Author name: Sandra Tayler

There are some kinds of shopping I like. I like to shop Howard’s amazon wishlist, or mine, or the kids. I like knowing exactly what I want and getting it quickly. I like leisurely browsing with money to spend how I please. Sometimes I like grocery shopping, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I like clothes shopping, sometimes I don’t. But there is one kind of shopping that I have always hated without exception. (WARNING: What follows is a discussion of the practicalities of shopping for women’s underwear. If you are male, you may want to skip the rest of this post.) I hate shopping for bras. I hate it so much that I will wear them until I can see through bits that weren’t designed to be see-through. The added see-throughness does not make them more attractive and makes them much less useful. I have finally accepted the fact that I must again go bra shopping. Grr.

I mentioned all of the above to Howard along with the fact that I’d need several hours to go try on underwear at Walmart and the fact that I would almost certainly come home from this grumpy but not necessarily having made the purchases. I confess I did rant a little about current bra fashions being more like padded breastplates. (I’m not at all convinced that bra utility is at all improved by being made out of padded foam, I think it’s just a fashion thing.) Howard listened to my rant patiently then asked: “Why do you shop for bras at Walmart?” Well, because they’re cheap. I hate buying bras even more if I’m spending piles of money. If I spend money and don’t love it, then I wear it every day and mentally groan at how much I had to spend to find something that is only adequate. I mentioned this to Howard and he countered with “If you shop someplace nicer, it might be more enjoyable.” He further pointed out that $150 for a set of bras is not too much to spend on something I have to wear every day. He further ordered me to blog about all of this and ask for advice on good places to shop where the experience will be less likely to engrumpify me.

So here I am, following orders like a good girl. I don’t need lingerie, just plain old underwear that I can use everyday. It needs to be so comfortable that I don’t even notice it is there. Attractiveness is a bonus. So, where should I shop?

This evening I was sitting with Patches while he was eating a bedtime snack. I like to sit with him and have little conversations. It never ceases to amaze me what these conversations reveal about his understanding (or misunderstanding) of how the world works. Sometimes they aren’t so much conversations as monologues. Patches will sit there talking to himself, expressing each thought out loud as it is caused by the previous one. Tonight was a monologue night. He sat with his ice cream. He’d say something, then use the time when he was eating a spoonful to ponder on what he’d said and it’s implications on the world as a whole.

All this is very adorable and sweet, except for the fact that tonight’s topic for thought was exactly how it might be possible to put poop on a stick.

Today has been a day of trying to get back to normal around here. It was more or less successful. But because Mondays are early out days and also contain two gymnastics lessons, I always end Mondays feeling a little frazzled and tired of driving places in the car. Tuesdays are a little better, but it is usually Wednesday before I really feel settled into the week. I’m hoping to slow things down some in January by putting Gleek and Link into the same Art club rather than separate Gymnastics lessons. Conveniently this art club will sandwich right between Link’s pick up from School and Kiki’s pick up from School. So potentially Mondays will be much nicer in January. BUT even though Monday’s are always tiring, at least this Monday was tiring in the familiar way rather than in a new and different stressful way.

It has now been two weeks since Link’s first dose of ADD medication. The first couple of days were a little frightening with how focused he was. He has settled down quite a bit since then. He was off the medicine for a couple of days during our Thanksgiving holiday. He slept 12 hours straight both days that he was off. He also complained that I forgot to give him his medicine. He was complaining because he couldn’t think or talk the way he wanted to be able to do. So far the only real drawback I’ve seen to the medication is increased difficulty getting him to settle down to sleep. Last night I went to check on him about an hour after tucking him in and he was sitting up in bed carefully organizing his shelf. On one hand, he’s never been very good at organizing and there he was doing a marvelous job. On the other hand, he was supposed to be sleeping.

Link’s teacher is amazed at the difference she sees. He’s right on task and happy most of the days. This is a vivid contrast to how he used to be. I concur. I am continually amazed at the ways I don’t have to slow down or simplfy so that Link can process what is happening. So mostly medication has been a positive experience thus far. Obviously I intend to monitor things closely because he is still growing and changing. What works perfectly now may not work so well in a few months.

Now I’m eyeing Gleek and wondering if she has ADHD. It might explain why she is so frequently a handful. I’ve been mentally listing symptoms and I’ll bet she has 8 or 9 out of the hypothetical list of12. I’m not ready to begin pursuing diagnosis on her yet because I don’t know that a child as young as she is can be adequately diagnosed for ADD due to developmental immaturities. Also I’m concerned that I may just being seeing this because medication made life with Link so much easier and I’d like Gleek to be easier to deal with. The gripping hand is that I’m just not ready to introduce another large change into our lives before Christmas. When things settle after the holidays I’ll see where we’re at.

Note: The concept of relationships as accounts was given me by someone else. What I am doing here is just putting the metaphor into my own words in ways that help me analyze interactions that I have seen.

Relationships are like joint bank accounts. Both people can make deposits to the account causing it to grow and both cam make withdrawals from the account causing it to shrink. Anything that strengthens a relationship, like a remembered birthday, counts as a deposit. Anything that weakens a relationship, like hurtful words, counts as a withdrawal. New accounts aren’t very big and so they can’t stand very many withdrawals before they bankrupt. Long standing accounts can stand up to many more withdrawals. However even a long standing account can be overdrawn and bankrupted.

When one person makes a big withdrawal from the joint account, it can be very frightening/upsetting for the other person. Suddenly she is reminded that she does not have complete control of how this account grows or is spent. Sometimes that fear leads her to also make a withdrawal. After all he did it, why can’t she? Unfortunately this pattern quickly leads to an account that is overdrawn and bankrupt. This pattern is particularly evident in divorces as both people struggle to withdraw as much as they can from an account that is already overdrawn.

Another response to a large withdrawal is when the injured person demands a deposit to make up for the withdrawal. You see this when a woman demands flowers in recompense for a forgotten anniversary. Unfortunately, deposits that are produced in response to a demand, only carry half the value they would otherwise have. On the other hand, an unexpected deposit, like surprise flowers, can triple or quadruple in value.

Some relationships are structured so that one person makes far more withdrawals than deposits. Parent/child relationships are this way. Sometimes the child makes a deposit to the account, but it is usually the responsibility of the parent to keep the account solvent. The parent has to pull funds from somewhere else to keep the account going. Of course it also falls to the parent to teach their children how and when to make deposits to relationship accounts. Sometimes this means demanding deposits, such as an apology.

If a person is physically or mentally ill, then they make far more withdrawals than they do deposits. This is not by choice. It falls to the caretaker to value the deposits that the ill person manages to make according to the difficulty of making deposits at all. This is not easy.

Gifts can be significant deposits. Gifts make a large deposit at the moment of gifting, but they continue to make small deposits every time the recipient sees or touches the gift. Gifts can also be withdrawals if the gift serves as a reminder of misunderstanding or if the gift comes with strings attached. Gifts are more likely to be accepted as large deposits if they demonstrate significant sacrifice or effort. Jewelry is a favored gift because it is expensive, thus it represents a large sacrifice of money and the effort required to earn that money. A handmade gift represents a large sacrifice of time.

Sometimes one person believes she is making a deposit when the other person perceives it as a withdrawal. This is like the mother who expresses her love by making sure that the laundry and dishes are always done. But the child ends up feeling like housework is more important than he is. In order for a deposit to really build the account, it can’t be made in a currency that is foreign to the recipient.

The light hanging turned out to be much less painful than I’d anticipated. Much of it actually happened yesterday when Kiki came to me and asked when we were going to hang Christmas lights. I answered that I didn’t want to deal with it yet. Then she said “I’ll do it. You have a willing worker right here.” In that moment I realized that if lights outside are important to the kids, then the kids can be involved in making it happen. I handed Kiki the box of lights and she happily tested them and then strung them into our front shrubbery. By the time she was done she was saying how she didn’t think that the house needed lights at all. Instead we could just have pretty plants. I’m pretty sure that was the cold and tired talking, but I decided not to argue.

Today the Christmas tree came out of storage and was put up in the front room. I have not touched it at all. Kiki marshalled all the kids, they assembled the tree, put lights on, strung beads, and now the tree stands half decorated because they’re all tired of doing tree. I’m sure the rest of the ornaments will go on either tonight or tomorrow.

It is nice to realize that some of our Christmas traditions now have a momentum of their own. It is not up to me to make it all go. That is good, because I don’t think I had the motivation to pull it off today.

I think I am experiencing some residual jellyfishness. I am getting necessary things done, but my brain still rebels at the thought of planning or being in charge of anything beyond routine tasks. Fortunately Howard likes to cook and so he commanded the preparations for yesterday’s holiday feast. I just followed instructions and made pies.

My big goals for today were to ship out the corrections to the mailing errors, catch up on the laundry, and make sure that the house stays clean rather than reverting to disaster. So far so good. Tomorrow we’ll begin decorating for Christmas. We’ll start with the outside lights because a snow storm and cold snap are due next week. I can put up the tree in snowy weather, but even the smallest bit of snow prevents me from climbing ladders onto my roof. If it were just up to me, we wouldn’t put lights on the outside of our house. I love driving by rows of houses all lit up, but I hate having to be the one to hang the lights. I hate having to pay for the electric bill. But the kids love the lights. I remember loving the lights as a kid and I remember feeling like something was missing on the years that my parents failed to put up outside lights. I think it has been a couple of years since we hung lights outside, so this year I’m going to do it.

I just hate all those strands of lights where for no apparent reason half the strand goes dead. Those lights are not made for troubleshooting. I miss the lights I grew up with which had actual bulbs you could screw into sockets. If one light went dead you had one light out, not half a strand dead. Last year I finally accepted the inevitable and gave away a box full of half lit light strands. I am never going to take the time to figure out which bulb needs to be replaced. That means this year I’m likely to be short on light strands and I’ll have to run to the store to buy more. I can live with that. Maybe I’ll even contemplate buying lights with bulbs. So forecast for tomorrow: Ladders and lights with occasional bouts of grumpiness.

After the outside lights comes the tree. Our Christmas tree is huge. And it requires lights. I don’t think we’ll get the tree up tomorrow. We’ll see.

Fie on Howard and his psychological fu. He sent all the happy “My schlock book arrived” email my way. I simply cannot continue to feel discouraged over the mailing mistakes when the “hooray!” emails out number the mistakes by at least 10 to 1. I’ve gotten lots of commentary from overseas recipients saying that the pieces of cardboard DID protect the book as they were intended to do. Domestic recipients commented on the sturdy boxes. The boxes definitely are much more secure for domestic mailing than the padded envelopes we used last time. I do have one report of a box that was folded in half and shoved into a mailbox. The mailman in question must have used his knee or foot for that particular feat. I received kind words from someone who actually attended the release party thanking us for having a movie running for kids to watch. I’m glad that worked out so well, it was a last minute addition to the agenda. (For anyone throwing a party, if you have an animated movie running on a dry erase table with free food available, kids will be happy for a long time. They eat and draw on the table and watch the movie while the parents get to visit or game.) I even got an email from someone who hadn’t ordered a book at all, but just wanted to participate in the encouraging emails. That one made me laugh with delight.

Once again Schlock fans prove that they are kind and generous. We are so lucky to get to do this and to meet the fantastic people that Schlock has brought to us.

I am thankful that we are able to work from home creating Schlock Mercenary without having to work for anyone else.

I am thankful for all the wonderful volunteers who came to help with the book packing and got so much done in such a short period of time.

I am thankful for the volunteers who came to our house to help us move a ton of books, then stuck around to visit for an hour afterwards.

I am thankful for all the postal workers who have always been incredibly kind and helpful to me.

I am thankful to all the fans who buy books, tip Howard via paypal, or raid our Amazon wishlists. Without them we could not meet the needs of our family.

I am thankful for the house I live in.

I am thankful for nebulized albuterol without which we would have made a trip to the ER last night.

I am thankful for many other miracles of modern medicine which have preserved and improved the lives of me and mine.

I am thankful for the wonderful neighborhood that we enjoy and the neighbors who do so much to make it wonderful.

I am thankful for my family and Howard’s family who have always been so supportive of everything we choose to do.

I am thankful for my faith and my religion which give me strength in dark times and joy in bright times.

I am thankful for four healthy children.

I am thankful for Kiki who is growing so intelligent and responsible. She is a tremendous help with all the things that need doing around here.

I am thankful for Link who is always loving and willing to help someone else feel happy.

I am thankful for Gleek who does so much to enliven our days and make us laugh.

I am thankful for Patches who gives great big hugs.

I am thankful for Howard who works so hard to support us all and who makes me laugh every day.

The list is much longer than this, but food needs cooking.

On Saturday night when I came home from the book release party I noticed a funny smell in the kitchen. I couldn’t identify it or locate it and I was too tired to spend much effort trying, so I ignored it.

Sunday morning the smell was much worse. It was the smell of a dead animal and it was coming from behind my fridge. I shared the observation with Howard and he agreed with my assessment. Together we pulled the fridge forward to see if we could find a dead mouse back there. We were able to ascertain that the smell was coming from the fridge rather than the wall, but failed to find a corpse. I’d hypothesized that perhaps a mouse had drown in the fridge’s drip tray, but it was dry and empty. We had to get ready for church, so we sprinkled baking soda liberally in the drip tray and on the floor. Then we pushed the fridge back into place. We hoped that the baking soda would absorb the smell. We also lit a scented candle. Later that evening Howard used turpentine in a painting project. The turpentine masked the rotten meat smell completely.

Monday our house smelled strongly of turpentine all day.

Tuesday the turpentine smell had dissipated, but the dead animal smell continued to waft from behind and beneath our fridge. By evening I was sick of it and vowed that first thing the next morning I would push the fridge back out and go hunting again. The strength and persistence of the smell led me to believe that this couldn’t possibly be a mouse. I was envisioning a rat somehow climbing inside my fridge and dying. But we’ve never had wild rats here. Perhaps someone’s pet had gotten loose? I thought about all those news stories where corpses are found because the neighbors noticed a nasty smell. If I lived in the twilight zone I’d probably find a human hand mysteriously rotting behind my fridge. I even spent some time trying to picture how one of the kids might have removed a chicken breast from the freezer and dropped it behind the fridge. Stranger things have happened.

This morning I collected flashlight and screwdriver. Then I pulled the fridge forward, removed the metal plate from the back, and went hunting. I found it. It was a dead mouse. Apparently this mouse had decided that the fan chamber was a good place to hide, then the fan turned on. The fan blades killed it. So the corpse of the mouse sat there in the fan chamber while the fan made sure that the rotting smell had the widest possible dispersion. We unplugged the fridge and commenced cleaning out the corpse and attendant mess. We used lots of bleach because anyone who has watched CSI knows that bleach is the proper way to clean up after a corpse.

We now have an extremely clean fridge fan and drip tray. The whole kitchen smells like a swimming pool, but I’ll take that over a kitchen smelling like dead animal any day. I’m glad we were able to find the mouse and get rid of it. Thanksgiving dinner accompanied by that particular smell would not be very appetizing.

I’ve discovered a problem with our shipping system. Howard gets all the email saying how wonderful the book is and how it arrived in perfect shape. I get all the emails telling how the books got damaged or there were items missing. I can usually resolve the issues very quickly and the customers then sing our praises and are completely happy, but I’m still left with a gnawing feeling that our system needs yet another overhaul. Logically I know that mistakes are inevitable when shipping 1300 packages in 2 days, but that doesn’t make it any better for the one person in 100 whose order was filled incorrectly. Experience tells me that I’ll have about a month of stray order corrections. I really wish we could get it all done perfectly the first time. I tried really hard to get it all perfect.