Working 5-9, babysitting demon boy, and selling this house...

Bet you can guess from the title that this is going to be a long one. I've been storing up, waiting to see how this whole messed up caos that is my life is going to play out. Still not sure, but here are some updates....

1)Workin' five to nine, what a way to make a living... I've waited to post about my new job until my first paycheck arrived. Marvelous how that little slip of paper will change your perspective on matters. I love it. I hate it. I love it because:
a) I have really great students (one signed off with "I never understood that before, but now I do"
b) I have a chance to use my brain daily
c) They pay me
I hate it because:
a) I have students who are completely unmotivated (last week I got called a "dumb b****)
b) I have to use my brain daily
c) They pay me $10.00 an hour. And that five to nine time is precious time. We have completely had to change our evening home life. Managing to have family dinner, as we have always had it, is EXTREMELY difficult. I don't get to interact with K and Abby at all. Just a few minutes in the car on the way home from school and we wolf down a meal, two hours later they come and silently give me a peck on the cheek as I drone on about, synonyms, and antynyms and context clues for persuasive writing...

2) Wouldn't you suppose that a baby--any baby--no matter how spoiled would learn to adjust in two months time? I've been babysitting this child for two months and I have had him on a religious schedule of play, eat, nap, play eat nap from day one. Only this is the way it works scream, eat, nap, scream, eat, nap. We are treated to a good three hours uninterupted, rageful screaming each day. I'm starting to lose it. I hear this child's screams in my dreams--er, nightmares. When the ladies from the church call:
Me-hello?
Mrs. Sweet Old Lady-Hello? Jessica? Honey, is that you? My word!! What is wrong with Randy?
Me-No, that's not Randy you hear. That is the little boy I keep.
Mrs. Sweet Old Lady-Oh, I'm so sorry, he must be hungry?
Me-Nope.
Mrs. Sweet Old Lady-Is he sick?
Me-No. He just screams.
Mrs. Sweet Old Lady- He screams like that? All day?
Me-Yes, ma'm. Pretty much.
Mrs. Sweet Old Lady-Well Sugar, I don't know how you do it. I'll say a prayer for you.....

Please do. I have had that same conversation at least three times this week. I feel terrible. I want to tell the mom (even though she has made him in to the monster he is) I just can't keep him anymore, but I hate, hate, hate to go back on a commitment. I especially hate to leave a fellow mom in the lurch. I don't even know if a daycare would take him. Unless he is being held and entertained around the clock, he screams. Should I,
a) invest in ear plugs?
b) tell the mom that I just have too much on my plate?
c) tell her the truth; that he is a high needs infant whose needs are not being met in our home?

3)We are selling our house. We are finishing our house. We are selling and finishing our house. We are doing our own little segment of, "Flip This House." Man, do I wish for my good friend Cari, now!! The way the market has boomed following the storm and the building of two new plants in the area, property values are up, up, up! We have decided to try to sell now while the market is good for a tidy profit. One of the deacons owns a vacant four bedroom house, which he has offered to rent to us for the almost shameful amount of $300 a month. I kinda feels as though we are stealing from the man, but in the two years we have lived here, he has not had any renters (he is very particular, ya know) and so I guess that it is $300 more dollars than what he is making now.

Reading Up

O.K., I'm gonna stop with this 'up' business, I promise. But I just couldn't resist one more...and it fits! I've been reading up on attachment. So far: Building the Bonds of Attachment, Awakening Love in Deeply Troubled Children; Handbook of Attachment Interventions; and Attachment, Trauma, and Healing.
Do I think Marina is "deeply troubled?" No. Do I think she has some attachment issues? Yes. A current example:
This week we have major break through! Marina is coming to me in the morning for snuggle time. On her own...not being asked...just curling up beside me and letting me love on her first thing of the day. And it is not her manipulative type of affection either. The kind she does to get something (which she learned long ago does not work with us...but can be used on occasion with Nana, Papa, Grandma and Grandpa, or any other unsuspecting adult who is oh so easily taken in by her big blue eyes and button nose) or because she saw one of her siblings getting a hug, but honest "I love you and I'm glad that you love me" kind of affection. She is also asking me for help. With words. "Mommy, I need help with door." "Mommy please help...this." She isn't grunting. She isn't pointing. She isn't trying over and over until she reaches meltdown stage. She is admitting that she can't handle life on her own. (Do you have a lesson in there for me, Lord?) It may not sound like a big thing to you. After all, don't kid's ask help from their mom's and dad's? I've never had to teach my other kids to ask for my assistance. I've never had to wait for them to figure out that Mommy could be counted on to lend a hand. Usually, it's the opposite, "You can do it. You don't need me any more. Just try...there you go. You did it all by yourself!" But trust me when I say that Marina asking me for help, IS MONUMENTAL! In exchange for progress, there has been a marked increase in defiance. Taking and hiding. Repeating words (which she knows drives......me.........absolutely.......crazy). And there is that thing that she started of holding her hiney when she walks....????
As always, with Marina, it is two steps forward and one step back. And that old country song isn't true,

Two steps forward, one step back
Nobody gets too far like that...

The going may be slow, but we've come a long, long way baby girl.

**Amended-I just realized that I misquoted the lyrics. It is, "One step forward, two steps back." Makes for a more sensible song, but ruins my little pies de resistance, don't you think? Oh well, I don't feel like coming up with a different ending right now, so we'll all just pretend those are the right words...

Standing Up

Look at my little man standing up. He just started pulling up this week. He is so proud of himself. He stands up and just smiles and giggles at the rest of the family. We all play our part very well. The kids cheer, congratulate and encourage. I go in to a string of over-the-top motherese, "Hims such a cutie wootie, swetie weetie, sugar dumplin, puddin' pop!" and start snapping pictures.

Movin' On Up

"Movin' on u-up,

to the sky,

to that delux apartment

in the sky-i-i..."

Looky what the master just drove home from Enterprise. Nice, huh? Somewhat classier than my 15-passenger bus to say the least. So will I grow discontent with my former equipage? Doubtful. As nice as it is to drive, it is still a very tight squeeze with five kids and three car seats. But I will enjoy a little respite from always feeling like a traveling side show.

Silver lining update: Mojo's insurance will pay to have a new motor dropped in our van. We figured as much, but are heaving great sighs of relief now that the adjuster has come and made it official. We had ALOT of miles on that old motor, and just the other day I was commenting to the master as I sent out monthly bills, that I didn't think the motor would out last the payments. So, though it is something of a inconvenience and I would not want to relive Friday's Nightmare on the On-Ramp for ANYTHING, we ARE getting a NEW motor and no one was injured,

"So we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose."

Intro from "The Jeffersons" and postscript from The Word. There is something really twisted about that....

Be careful what you comment

So, Friday we were going to take a little overnight trip to Longview and see the master's new nephew be born. He wanted me to go get an oil change for the van before we hit the road. I was reluctant. I have to be HIGHLY motivated to take all five children ANYWHERE by myself. And besides, car maintenance, in my opinion, falls squarely under the heading of "MAN RESPONSIBILITY."
"Look, you won't even have to get them out of the car, you just pull right in, they change your oil, and you pull out. It will take all of 10 minutes and will give us a big head start."
"Yes, Master" At least, that's how I remember responding...
After I picked up the kids from the bus stop I dutifully drove over to the Mojo's Oil and Lube (names have been changed to protect the NOT-SO-INNOCENT.) The two barely post pubescent boys, got under the hood, took my money, gave me a receipt, slapped the side of the van and shouted, "You're good to go, ma'm." Well, the master was right after all, this oil change business isn't so difficult to manage...
Now, earlier in the week I had commented on Kim's blog that in a large family, every little crisis becomes a big crisis, simply because of the sheer number of people involved. Unfortunately, I was about to encounter the perfect example of this not many days hence...
I hadn't gone two miles when I noticed that the van wasn't driving right. I checked my gauges--gas fine, temperature fine, battery fine, oil pressure...oil pressure...mmm...something must be wrong with my gauge...there is NO oil pressure. And then my engine seized up. I didn't even have time to get it off on the shoulder. Not that there was much of a shoulder on the ON-RAMP TO THE HIGHWAY. So it is rush hour on the on-ramp and I'm a huge sitting duck in the middle of it with my five babies in the back seat. Folks barreling up on my backside are looking to merge with traffic not the GMC Savanna dead ahead. A few idiots are honking their horns. AS IF I AM STOPPED THERE FOR MY OWN AMUSEMENT?! What is wrong with people?
We sit there for about 20 minutes (read: an eternity). My drama queen has begun to sob, "What will become of us?" It is tea time for Randy and he is screaming bloody murder...but no way am I going to unbuckle him and remove the only shred of protection for his tiny fragile skeleton. Marina is making her guttural noise and sucking her lips back to her tonsils. Ian is coming up with a game plan that would have made the master proud, "What we need to do is unbuckle and walk--or we could roll--down this hill. C'mon mom, we could make it. Well, you could carry Randy--oh, look there is a bird--and I see a werewolf--no that is a dog...." K is reading a book. I'm watching the rear view mirror so I will have a mental image of the person who starts the 15 car pile-up that I know is coming any second. I see a police officer. I flag him down. Did you ever wonder what happened to the Marlboro Man? He is working as a cop in southeast Texas. (Now the master DOES read my blog, but I can say this any way, because after it was all over, even he remarked, "That guy didn't look like your typical cop did he?" "Um, no, no, he certainly didn't." "Kinda buff--like he works out" "Uh, yeah, you could say that..." "I doubt many guys want' to take him on.." "Mmmm, well, maybe not very many GUYS....") But even if he'd had the face of Ian's werewolf, he would have seemed beautiful to me at that moment. "What seems to be the trouble, ma'm?" "I don't know officer, I just got my oil changed and my van just stopped." He checks my oil. "Well, m'am there's no oil in there." THEY DRAINED MY OIL AND DIDN'T PUT ANY OIL BACK IN MY VAN!!!! My engine is toast. Burnt toast.
He gets the police tow truck there, but we can't get off the highway, because we won't all fit in the cab of the tow truck. We wait for the master to arrive. GRRRR! On some level, I know it is not his fault; but I am tired, I am coming off of a major adrenaline rush, and I NEVER WANTED TO HAVE THE OIL CHANGED IN THE FIRST PLACE. Let's just say that directly following his arrival, Officer Hottie thought he was going to have to break up a domestic dispute. We finally get towed back to Mojo's. We have to wait there for an hour because no one has a vehicle large enough to tote all of us. Now we are without transportation because no rental places will rent you a 15 passenger van if--get this--YOU ARE GOING TO CARRY CHILDREN IN IT. Why ELSE would any one drive a vehicle the length of a city block?
See--car breaks down on the highway and needs a new engine--it's a crisis, yes. But enormous van breaks down on the highway and needs a new engine and you have no other option but to stay holed up in your house until engine is replaced because no other vehicle will carry your family--BIG crisis. So, be careful what you comment.
Stay tuned for, "Silver Lining on the Oiless Van Mishap," which I pray will be airing very soon.

New Scam

Let me warn you about the newest scam...or at least the most recent one to jump up and bite MY butt. You order some cute things from Lillian Vernon for your daughters' bedroom for Christmas and when it is time to check out, they ask you if you want to become a member of their travel NEWSLETTER. It means $10.00 off your purchase. There is some fine print about "by checking this box, you are allowing us to share your information" yada, yada, yada. Of course, you never dream that they are talking about your DEBIT CARD information and not your E-MAIL address. You just delete the travel newsletter that pops up in your inbox every two weeks without opening it and go on with your life. Long story short, some stupid "Reservation Rewards Program" scam has been taking $10.00 out of my account every month since December, and I just figured it out. GRRRR! O.K. I know that is only three months, but have I mentioned I'm a penny pincher? I could buy a whole sack of clothes at Goodwill for $30.00 bucks. Buy groceries for a week. Put gas in my van for....wait a second, bad example...
Any way--just say, "NO!" to $10.00 off your next purchase.

Art Day

Here are some pictures from Saturday's expedition to the local art museum for family art day. They have them once a quarter and the kids really enjoy it.
And it's FREE! You can't beat that with a stick. They made hats, marbled paper, personalized puzzles and fabric collages.