Fighting the Good Fight

My brother and I a loooong time ago.

I don't know about you, but some of my fondest childhood memories involve some sort of torment and my older brother.  (Older brothers and torture do go hand-in-hand, don't they?)  Whether he was tormenting me or getting me 'back' for bothering him...those were some good times.  :-)

I feel like I learned a lot of life skills and what buttons to push (and not to push) on people from fighting with my brother.  I learned how to be completely mad at someone and still sit across from the at the dinner table each night without getting in trouble for being rude.  (Okay, maybe just MOST of the time!)  I learned how and when to get my revenge.  I learned how to be a good victim.  (Then, I learned that would only work so many times before I would shoot myself in the foot and get in more trouble than he would have gotten into before I tried to frame him!)

My brother and I weren't always very angry when we fought.  We were mostly just trying to irritate each other.  Or we were just bored and there was nothing good on television.  Since he's four years older than I am, our fights were rarely (if ever) physical.  The most I think we ever physically fought were the 'foot fights' we would have on our parents' couch.  Little did we know, the couch was the only real loser in that game.  Apparently, lying at each end of the couch and pushing toward each other's feet could have broken the frame of our couch. 

 That sort of actual understanding doesn't kick in until one has paid for a couch themselves.  I'm pretty sure that I would come unglued if I found my kids to be doing that to my couch!

This one time, my brother and my cousin were ignoring me or leaving me out of whatever they were doing.  I decided to have a 'tea party' instead.  I made some 'tea' alright.  I used water, Comet, some of my mom's favorite perfume, and whatever else I managed to find under the bathroom sink.  I mixed it up in my little teapot, poured it into the teacups, and invited my brother and cousin to my tea party. 

Don't worry, no brothers or cousins were harmed in the making of the story.  They pretended to take a sip and started rolling on the ground and crying and moaning that they had been poisoned.

*evil grin*

Hey, at least they were playing with me!

I remember these things when I see (and hear) my own kids argue.  There are days when I just can't take it and have to ask them to stop.  (Or at least take it somewhere else!)  But, they have to find their places in each other's lives and routines.  They are learning patience from one another far better than I could actually teach it to them.  They are learning to sit across from one another at the dinner table and be civil when they really want to be as far away from their sister as possible.  (Of course, if they are anything like me that just means they are planning to get their revenge another time...when Mom isn't watching.)  I deal with bad behavior as I see it, but I have come to terms with the fact that not every facet of their relationships with each other will actually involve me.  They have to earn each other's respect.  I feel if I force them to respect each other all the time they could start to resent one another for it.  Now, this doesn't mean that I don't pull one aside and speak with them when they are being irrational.  If 8YO is being especially impatient or grumpy with her sisters, I will pull her aside and try to explain her sisters' point of view.  (Meaning:  Your sisters are not just put on this earth to annoy you.  GET OVER IT!) 

I try not to intervene when it comes to the small stuff.  Life is too short to spend it fighting over hair brushes and what to watch on television.  I sort of make it a rule that, if they bring it to me, then I will solve it and BOTH of them will lose. That usually motivates them to work it out themselves, which in turn makes my life so much more pleasant.  

What can I say?  My black and white striped shirt is in the dirty clothes and I haven't seen my whistle in days.  Since I can't be their referee, then they are better off just working it out themselves.

I've just met too many adults in this world that never learned how to fight their own fights or self-soothe and they are not the easiest people to be around.  Most life skills are 'learn by doing' and seeing an adult try to work through these basic feelings and experiences is just ridiculous.  I want my girls to be better prepared for all the curve balls that life will throw their way. 

And I'm also really lazy.

*giggle*

Did you have a sibling to tease and torment growing up?  What are some of your best memories of arguments' past?

 

  

Knitting, Boredom, and Some Wicked Grass

I have come to realize that I don't talk about my knitting stuff here as much as I would like to.  So, allow me to bore you with a little bit of that!  :-)

I started trying to knit some Mystery Socks from a little Knit-A-Long on Ravelry...but that didn't work out so well!  I just don't think I'm ready for knitting socks with a lace pattern!  I was on my umpteenth attempt when I realized how unhappy the pattern was making me.  I quickly remembered some cheap, self-striping sock yarn I had on hand and decided I needed some simple, stockinette stitch socks that would make me happy. 

And oh, they really do make me happy!

See?  All I have to do is knit and each few rows bring me a new color to look at!  This is the first sock of the pair, but I'm not worried.  Now that I've conquered my fear of turning heels (at least, with this sort of pattern anyway!) I don't feel as much pressure when knitting socks and find it way more enjoyable instead!  These socks make me HAPPY and they feel sort of autumn-ish, you know?

(And yes, my leg really is that white.  I cannot blame the flash on my camera for that one!)

I think I really did begin the new school year with a bit of an illusion that I'd have so much more time to get things done, now that all three girls would be in school all day!  My bubble has officially been burst, I think. I rarely have the time to sit down and knit or read or do anything else I'd have imagined I would be able to make time for.  Between volunteering in my daughters' classes (which I  wouldn't give up for anything at this point!) and the normal upkeep of the house, there aren't as many hours in the day as I'd imagined there'd be.  Just like it usually goes, there are always so many more things I would like to get done that I actually do get done in a day.  Sure, I have more quiet time to myself than I've had in...well, probably all of my adult life, really!  I can start a project and finish it before I move onto something else.  No interruptions from bored, hungry kids and no one following behind me trying to make a mess of whatever I just cleaned.  When I'm actually home, it's pure bliss!

What I can't get over is when I hear (or read) of another mom who has her plate just as full as mine (or even moreso!) and that they are BORED.  Exactly what I this 'bored' that they speak of?  I just can't even begin to wrap my brain around how that happens!  Are they really so on top of things that they actually reach times in their regular days where they have NOTHING TO DO.  NOTHING?  How can that be???  Maybe it's just the procrastinator in me that rules too many of my decisions, but I do not get this.  At all.  I ALWAYS have something that I could or should be doing.  Always.  In addition, I have things that I would spend ALL DAY LONG doing if I could.  But I can't, so I don't.  I actually sort of look forward to the days where I just feel really icky, whether it's from a virus or just a headache that won't leave, because I can actually justify taking some time to take care of myself.  I can watch television, read, or knit. 

You know who gets bored?  Children who aren't old enough to see past their own immediate wants and needs and see nothing in front of them that they actually care to do.  They are bored.  Pregnant women on bedrest who can do almost nothing for themselves but stay in bed.  They are bored.  How can a full-grown woman who is in charge of a home and family EVER claim this?  Do they just not have enough hobbies?  Do they always need to be entertained by someone or something else?  I just don't get it.  Boredom is NOT in my vocabulary!  If I'm bored with something I have to do, I will bribe myself with something I want to do in order to finish it.  And there is always something I want to do, usually right at my fingertips.  I just have to find the time to do it!

In the midst of our usually hectic schedule, Aly (our female boxer) began to sneeze.  She started having these sneezing fits on Sunday that were just awful.  Nothing came out of her nose, not even blood, and she was perfectly fine when she wasn't sneezing.  But the episodes contintued on Monday, so I called the vet.  Living in a pretty rural area, foxtails are always a fear.  I was able to get her into the vet on Tuesday and they agreed that there had to be something up her nose.  She wouldn't stay still enough for the vet to actually get a good look, so they had to sedate her.  As it turns out, she had BLADES OF GRASS in her nose.  She had had an actual sneezing fit in the exam room while they were trying to get a good look up her snout and they saw how hard she was sneezing.  The vet said she would never have been able to get that grass out herself. 

Trying to coax her out of the vet's office was funny.  5YO was pushing her from behind while I gently tugged on the leash.  She took each step slowly and carefully and then just stopped walking altogether.  I had to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way to the car.  She weighs 53 pounds now, which I realize is actually on the petite size for an adult boxer.  As small as she is for a boxer, SHE'S NO EASY THING TO CARRY.

Aly now takes antibiotics twice a day in order to ensure that she doesn't get any sort of infection where they were digging around her in nasal passages.  She really is fine now, but I never knew how expensive a couple of blades of grass could be!  

Has this happened to anyone else?  What are the odds?  Do they make special dust masks for dogs to wear on the days their owners mow the lawn?

Could you just imagine if they did?