Caring for worms

26 May 2011 2 Comments

by Natalie in Crazy Things I'll Do Only For My Kids, What's a mom to do? Tags: , , ,

I have officially become grateful for something that I absolutely detest: worms.

I have pretty much hated worms my entire life. I don’t like that they slither out of the soil when it rains and sneak up onto my sidewalk. I don’t like that mischievous little boys toss them at undeserving little girls on the elementary school playground. I don’t like how I can’t figure them out. They don’t even have eyes!

I even hate the way it smells after it rains as the slimy things dry out in the sun. And no matter how much my boys beg, I refuse to take them fishing as bait.

Yet this spring my heart has been softened and I have started to change my mind about worms.  Without them, I wouldn’t be able to work in my garden. See, the juicy, wiggly guys keep my two crazy boys occupied while I weed, water and plant.

My children have become completely obsessed with digging for worms and I couldn’t be happier, as long as I don’t have to touch them. Normally if I spot one I’ll dangle it over the side of my shovel or rake, and then holler at one of the boys to come and get it.

They fight over who can grab it and then pick it up with their bare hands and rush it back to their bucket, bug cage or worm home they’ve created.

A couple of weeks ago my husband and I planted a bunch of tomatoes in our garden while the boys made worm soup. Disgusting? Yes. Creative? Maybe. Occupying? Definitely.

Is it horrible that I let worms babysit my boys while I work in the yard? I absolutely love gardening. I love raking, weeding and harvesting. Nothing calms me down or helps relieve my stress like pulling out some nasty weeds.

That is why I have become grateful for something I hate. Thank you, worms.

I’ll let my boys play with worms all they want if it gives them something fun to do while I work in the yard. I only have three rules: worms do not enter our home, they do not enter our mouths, and we wash our hands as soon as we are done playing with the slimy, nasty guys.

Laundry Day

19 May 2011 6 Comments

by Natalie in Failed Housewife Tags: , ,

About a year ago I had a “brilliant” plan to start doing all of my laundry in one day. I absolutely hate doing laundry and I absolutely hate Mondays. Why not put them together?

What the heck was I thinking?

I spend Monday mornings racing up and down the stairs changing batches. By evening I’m tired and I’m stressed out trying to get the mountain of clothes sitting on my bed sorted and folded. By bedtime I’m normally in way over my head and my husband has to help finish.

But I bring it on myself. I purposely fold the clean clothes on my bed so I am forced to finish before nightfall. Unless I want to sleep on the couch, I HAVE to get it done. I hate laundry. This is one of the only ways I can motivate myself to get it done.

Why do I loathe laundry? Because it is never-ending. Even if I wash all of the clothes in all of our baskets, unless I do the laundry naked, I still have dirty clothes.

Lately I have become completely obsessed with washing all of our clothes, except the ones we are wearing, in one day. I find serous satisfaction in seeing all of our hanging laundry baskets empty – even if it only lasts until bedtime when we change into our pajamas.

I’ve always been bad at doing the laundry. My mom taught me how to clean, she taught me how to cook, but somehow I managed to skip out on the laundry lessons.

My husband tried to help me our first year of marriage — especially when it came to sorting the batches — but I still was horrible at washing our clothes.  Sometimes I’d forget about a batch at our apartment complex’s laundry center, and we’d have to break into the center in order to have clean underwear for the next day.

I still stink at doing the wash, mostly because I refuse to invest time and energy into something I hate. But I have found some tricks that help me get through my dreaded Monday chore. Here’s what helps me.

First, we have four separate hanging laundry baskets, one for each of our major batches. I spend a couple of minutes each night sorting the clothes we have dirtied that day into each of the hanging baskets. That way I don’t have to sort clothes on Mondays. The baskets also keep them in nice out-of-the-way piles.

Second, when I am really crammed for time, I play what I call laundry “hide and go seek.” While my boys are hiding I “count” in my room. I count slowly, giving myself extra time to fold some clothes while they find the perfect hiding place. Then, while I am “finding” them, I bring a stack of clothes with me to put away. It’s an easy way for me to play with my kids, while doing one of my least favorite chores.

Finally, I try extra hard to get the clothes out of the dryer and folded as soon as they are done drying. Because as much as I hate doing the laundry, I hate ironing the laundry more. I still find myself ironing pants or skirts occasionally for Sunday, but no more.

In retrospect, my laundry-all-in-one-day plan has some major pros and some major cons. But I am such a creature of habit that I will probably keep up the Monday-laundry madness. At least I get it all done in one day. That way, unless we have an emergency, I can go on a six-day laundry strike.

Surviving Mother’s Day

12 May 2011 2 Comments

by Natalie in Dealing with Death, My Angel Baby Tags: , ,

I can’t tell you how many times I had to silently tell myself to smile and be grateful this past Mother’s Day. It has been a long month and a hard season of smiling through my tears.

I should naturally smile and be grateful for the two beautiful, charming boys I get the privilege of raising here on earth. They really are my whole world and I dedicate my entire life to them.

But Mother’s Day is hard now that I’m a mother to an angel. It’s painful to me that I completely failed at my most recent attempt at motherhood. It’s even more painful that since my child was stillborn, I can’t see him, hear him or hold him on a day that celebrates my relationship with him.

Instead I get to wear a pearl bracelet that has his name engraved on a silver heart at the end. I hang a heart-shaped locket filled with a tiny set of footprints and his birthstone around my neck. Then before it gets too dark I get to stop by the cemetery in the cold rain to leave a handful of tulips from my flowerbed on his headstone.

It’s just so hard to smile when I can’t be a mother to all of my children right now. I’ll admit it. I’m having a hard time with his death. Especially on days that celebrate motherhood.

Days where we have a Sunday school lesson on the shepherd who leaves his flock of 99 to tend for the one sheep who is lost. I feel like that shepherd. I love my flock — I wouldn’t trade my two- and four-year-olds for anything — but I still yearn to bring that one lost lamb back to my fold. Only no matter how much I search, my lamb isn’t coming back. Not right now.

I hate feeling down and gloomy. I hate feeling like I am ungrateful. I’ve got to figure out a way to focus on the positive impact Luca’s short life had. I’ve got to remember the tender mercies I’ve received since his death. The times I’ve felt him near. I have to stay focused on the future — the big day I get to hug him in heaven.

Nearly Killing Nemo

05 May 2011 3 Comments

by Natalie in What's a mom to do? Tags: , , , ,

We nearly lost Nemo yesterday. Our oversized goldfish was flopping around struggling for air in his gills at the bottom of his tank.

My four-year-old said he was flopping like the dead fish we catch at the pond. He was twitching while floating sideways – not a good sign. Although it sounds like I am being dramatic, it was an intense situation for a while.

Especially because I was sure I had killed him.

I cleaned out his tank on Tuesday and I probably didn’t do it as carefully as I should have. It had a bunch of algae on the sides so I scrubbed the glass extra hard then siphoned as much of it out as I could. Since it was really dirty, I measured an extra amount of algae-thwarting medicine and dumped it inside. You’re supposed to wait 24 hours before putting a filter cartridge back in so the chemicals can disperse through the water.

Well, not only did I wait to put the cartridge in, I waited to turn the filter back on altogether. Nemo’s tough so I didn’t think anything of it until I saw him swimming sideways in the corner.

I raced downstairs in a panic to find a filter cartridge so I could turn it back on. I thought Nemo was a goner but despite his body arching backwards, his gills were still slightly moving so I had to take a chance.

We’ve had Nemo for 2 years now. We got him and his 10-gallon tank for free on KSL.com after my son begged for a fish for months. Although I hate cleaning his tank and it’s hard for me to remember to feed him each night, I’ve gotten attached to the orange-gilled guy.

He’s getting really old for a goldfish – he’s going on 4-years now- and so I suspect he’ll die soon anyway, but I wasn’t ready for it happen today.

Maybe it’s the guilt of nearly killing him or the emotions of my son’s one-year-memorial carrying over, but I seemed a lot more stressed about Nemo’s near-death than my sons.

The oldest kept screaming, “Yes! We get to get a crab now!” The youngest didn’t really know what to do. He kind of sulked in the corner.

I know I have complained about our family pet, and I have probably secretly wanted him to die, but I wasn’t serious. I was terrified that he was going to go belly-up while the three of us stood there and watched.

Luckily for us, turning the filter on and dumping some extra food in the top of the tank seemed to miraculously heal Nemo. I am happy to say that he is once again swimming around happily.

What has this experience taught me? To never again be flippant when caring for another living thing – even if it is as small as a goldfish. Heaven help me if we ever get a dog.