The dreaded laundry beast

Oh enormous pile of laundry, how you mock me. I walk by and you stare, unblinking, your eyes a torment. No matter how I try, your size only grows, larger and larger with each passing day. You swallow up tiny socks in your gaping maw, never to be seen again (especially 5 minutes before school when said socks are so desperately needed). You tilt and tumble, spilling your contents in my path, as if to remind me further of your dreaded presence. You tempt unruly children with your softness, calling to them to jump on you, risking the threatened time-out of doom.

But what is this I hear? A champion? A knight worthy of this foe? The laundry pile doth tremble in fear at the sight of her!

Yes, it is true. I have come! I attack the pile with reckless abandon, sorting, folding, stacking. And then..... putting away! By some great miracle, or perhaps a trick of sorcery, socks are found! Shirts are shaken and sleeves turned right! Pants are folded neatly and put in their place. The mocking smile of the pile is stilled, crushed and broken. Piece by piece, the dreaded pile is no more. The champion hath defeated the dreaded beast!

Until tomorrow...

Caffeine: A love/hate relationship

I have a love/hate relationship with caffeine. I love a lot of things that are caffeinated, but I hate being addicted to the point that if I don't drink caffeine, I get the dreaded headache.

I used to be able to take it or leave it. I never got into the morning coffee habit, so for the most part I could have a coffee or tea or soda some of the time, and not worry about having some daily. I wasn't really addicted.

I'd love to blame having children for my current caffeine dependence, and in some ways that is true. I can't count how many mornings I've stumbled into the kitchen after a long night with a fussy baby, the only thought on my mind being, "I'm not going to survive this day without something caffeinated!" A cup of tea, a mocha from a coffee shop, a diet coke... What was once a non-regular occurance somehow became an every day thing.

The worst is the diet coke. There can't be anything about soda of any kind that is good for you, diet or not. I got in the habit of drinking diet back in high school, partly because of some notion that I needed to watch my weight (which at the time, I did not) and partly because my younger brother is diabetic, so it's usually what we had in the house. My husband has been a terrrible diet coke addict for years and eventually it rubbed off on me. I found myself reaching for a diet coke at least once, often two or three times, a day.

The hubster is taking a break from diet coke right now, so we don't have any in the house. I've been drinking tea, which I actually love, but I still had two or three days of wicked headaches. And frankly, that pisses me off. I don't like that I *have* to consume certain things to avoid putting my body through withdrawl.

But am I ready to give up caffeinated beverages entirely? Can I say no to a giant glass of icy cold diet coke the next time we're out to dinner? Do I want to give up my mochas, or switch to decaf (which still has some caffeine anyway)? Not really....

So I'm stuck with either maintaining my habit enough to not go through withdrawl so I can enjoy a diet coke or a coffee once in a while, or giving up anything caffeinated entirely. What's a busy mom to do?

Pass me my tea.

Play ball!

Baseball season is upon us once again! And this year I have not one, but two little sluggers out there in the field. Sadly, the weather doesn't seem to want to cooperate as much as we'd like, but at least we haven't been rained on (yet!).

This year I'm struck by the differences in my boys. David (6) is a straight line. He's easy to motivate, easy to coach. He wants to do well, he listens to Daddy and his coaches. He loves to play and it's simply a pleasure to watch him grow and get better.

Grayson (almost about 4), well, he's another animal entirely. Not that this is news to me; their polar opposite personalities have been obvious since birth. He is chaos in a little person. He isn't unruly or running around like a crazy child or misbehaving out there. He simply does things Grayson style. You want him to walk out on the field and get his mit? Sure, but he'll take a winding, roundabout route to get there. You want him to put on his helmet and get ready to bat? Sure, but he'll put it on backwards first or try to stick his bat in the fence.

Some of it is just age. David is older, and that makes quite a bit of difference. He wasn't nearly as focused at Grayson's age. But some of it is the mystery that is Grayson. He's just his own little person and he absolutely fascinates me.

It is a good reminder that no two children are alike, and the way we approach them needs to be different. There are certain ways to motivate David, to keep him on the right track. Those things don't work as well for Grayson. And I admit, finding what works for him isn't as simple.