(Note: There are probably random spoilers in here. Not that it should matter, honestly. I don't often find learning plot points about most things ruins them. Good stories are made in the way they are told, not usually in what they are about. But fair warning here just the same because who knows what I might say?)
I watch a lot of "TV." But what I'm calling "TV" my kids would call "Movies." They call everything on a screen a Movie. Except for things they watch on particular YouTube Channels, but even odd things here and there on YouTube they call Movies. (If you have half an hour the clip in that link is very funny.) I'm starting to wonder if we need new terms in general. Maybe "Features" for what I think of as movies, and "Serial Dramas/Comedies" for what I think of as television.
I want to say the main difference between movies and television has to do with telling a single, contained story, versus drawing one out in parts, possibly over years. But there are still exceptions there, because, you know, Star Wars. And I remember seeing the
movie Shoah over the course of two nights when it came out, because
its total running length on screen was over nine hours, and there are entire
British television series that can be viewed in less time. There are movies that are essentially parts of a series, such as the Up documentaries (the first one of those I saw in a theater was 28 Up as a child and I look forward to the next installment every seven years). Star Trek straddles both worlds but tells its best stories on TV in my opinion. TV allows characters and ideas to develop in ways movies don't have patience for.
My own space apart from the babble of the internet
Showing posts with label Netflix. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Netflix. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Friday Night Movie Night 2 (with moral dilemma bonus feature) (Babble)
Ah, Movie Night. Both times Ian was deployed in Iraq I found it very
helpful to set frequent small events to look forward to. There were
too many days (weeks, months….) to try counting down to when “daddy was coming home”
without it getting depressing, so I always tried to have something
imminent to draw the kids’ focus toward something good.
The most successful of these was the implementation of Friday Night Movie Night.
Friday Night Movie Night is now an entrenched ritual, and one that it has been nice to add Ian to now that he’s back. We got a special popcorn popper just for movie night, and Aden is queen of the popcorn (although she doesn’t feel comfortable doing the last step of flipping the popper over to release the bowl it comes with). We pull the convertible love seat out into bed-mode and pile on among pillows and blankets. Five of us don’t really fit all that comfortably, but we make do. (A new arrangement will have to be figured out when Quinn is no longer a pint-sized little sweetie who can sit directly in front of me without blocking my view.) Sometimes it’s inconvenient and a bit of a hassle, but I love Friday Night Movie Night.
The biggest blow to this weekly event was the closing of our local video store. Many a Friday afternoon was spent at Bucky’s Supervideo wandering the aisles and trying to come to a family consensus on what to rent. But sadly, Bucky’s closed it’s doors a few months ago, and the DVD selection at our local library is… let’s say ‘unpredictable.’ The library is also closed on Fridays, so we actually have to plan ahead. Or choose from whatever odd things are available on Netflix Instant View or already on our own shelves.
In any case, I thought I’d throw out some of our lessons learned thus far, offer ideas and suggestions for movies to those with small kids, and hope for more recommendations from anyone out there who are in the mood to just name good movies.
It’s hard finding things that all five of us want to watch, and if we get started late sometimes we need to keep movie night short. To customize the length of movie night we often turn to things with lots of small episodes. Our favorites are Shaun the Sheep, Spongebob Squarepants, and Pingu. Shaun the Sheep is a spin off of the Wallace and Gromit claymation movies. They are fun for adults and they keep Quinn laughing too. Pingu is odd and sweet, and Spongebob is just funny.
By comparison, we recently watched a collection of old Felix the Cat cartoons, and man they were weird. They contained some uncomfortable portrayals of race that we had to explain, and even though the kids enjoyed them simply because they were cartoons, Ian and I found them to be really pitiful in every respect. Which is funny, because I remember liking them as a kid myself, but they don’t hold up well. They were amusing but only because they were kind of unintentionally surreal. Anyway, it’s nice to have lots of little episodes in a row because you can find a good stopping point instead of interrupting a larger story if people are too tired to stay up.
Silent movies are fun. My kids really enjoyed Modern Times and still talk about it. I like that my kids know who Charlie Chaplain is, and that they are not put off by things in black and white or without speech. They are fans of Harold Lloyd, too. Since nearly everything had to be expressed without words, the gestures, etc., are exaggerated enough for even little kids to follow. My kids also like the Marx Brothers, but only Aden is old enough to get the fast verbal jokes. Everyone loves Harpo. It’s fun to point out to the kids how many of the gags they enjoy in the Animaniacs and other shows were lifted straight from old movies and now they are in on the references.
Pixar movies seem to be a little too intense for my kids for some reason, which is a shame because I wouldn’t mind watching Up again, or Toy Story 2. If there is one scene in a film that gets them too nervous they nix the whole movie. (Maybe when they are older.)
We try to introduce the kids to things we liked growing up. We did some old episodes of The Muppet Show and Rocky and Bullwinkle and those went over well.
We’ve seen every available Miyazaki animated film, (why those aren’t freakier to them than Pixar movies I don’t know) but Ian hasn’t seen most of them, so they are due for a rerun. The kids like My Neighbor Totoro best, probably. Ponyo is maybe the weirdest film I’ve ever seen, but if you give up on the idea that it needs to make any sense it’s enjoyable.
Actually, that reminds me of something I meant to write about a full year ago and never got around to. I had a weird moral dilemma and would be curious about other people’s opinions. One of the movies we watched while Ian was away that the kids liked best was Kiki’s Delivery Service. It’s another Miyazaki film, and therefore it was originally in Japanese and the English version is dubbed. My kids loved that movie, particularly Aden, who adored the music and memorized all the dialogue. We got it in the mail through Netflix and hung onto it for weeks. After a month of endless viewings we happened across a copy of the movie on sale at Target. I thought, “Great! We will own it and I can finally send the other copy back to Netflix!”
Unfortunately, the new copy of Kiki’s Delivery Service had been dubbed differently from the one we were used to. Some of the lines had been changed, and something about the music was different. (I’m not sure of the details because I, personally, don’t care. But Aden can run a list off for you.) The kids hated it. Actually, I think just Aden hated it, and by extension the other kids decided they hated it too.
So I thought about it, and wondered if it would be wrong to mail our new copy back to Netflix and keep the old one. There was a small sticker with a bar code on it around the hole in the center of the DVD on the Netflix copy, and it would be easy enough to pull that off and move it over to the other DVD. I figured how bad could it be? They get a newer cleaner copy, we get to keep the one that makes the kids happy, it was win win. But Aden saw me messing with the little sticker on the DVD and asked me what I was doing. I explained what I’d been thinking, and then she said, “Isn’t that stealing?” So I stopped and said that maybe it was. What lesson was I teaching Aden?
I pondered it for several days. If switching the DVDs was potentially positive all around, was it wrong? I decided to call Netflix. I got a nice woman in customer service whose first reaction was that I try the switch and see if I get away with it. I told her I didn’t want to “get away with it,” that’s why I was calling. If I had permission, it wasn’t wrong. I wanted to be above board. She thought about it a little longer, and said most people when they wanted to keep something just pretend they lost it and paid the small fine. I told her I didn’t want to pretend anything, that my daughter was watching, and I wanted to be honest. She thought about it a little more. She was a fan of the film and knew about the differences between the two versions. She said the only potential problem for Netflix was that all the copies they owned were of the first version, and someone else trying to rent it again might be confused to get a different version in the mail. It was an interesting conversation, and in the end she decided it probably wasn’t right of her as a representative of the company to suggest I do anything other than send back the copy they originally sent me. Which is what I did.
Aden still refuses to watch the newer version, even though I have a hard time believing a year later she remembers every nuance of what is different, but she might. I may insist on it anyway some Friday night and tell her to get over it already.
But what does anyone else think? It’s not a quandary for the ages by any means, but it was an interesting little ethical puzzle to me for a little while. Ethics are important to me. I want my children to be compassionate, critically thinking, ethical people, and those are qualities best led by example. So I’m comfortable with how that got resolved, even though I’m sure many people would have made a different choice and not seen it as a big deal. But to me if the end result is that Aden can say to herself, “Mommy doesn’t steal” then it was worth it.
Okay! It’s almost Friday! Movie suggestions! I need ’em!
The most successful of these was the implementation of Friday Night Movie Night.
Friday Night Movie Night is now an entrenched ritual, and one that it has been nice to add Ian to now that he’s back. We got a special popcorn popper just for movie night, and Aden is queen of the popcorn (although she doesn’t feel comfortable doing the last step of flipping the popper over to release the bowl it comes with). We pull the convertible love seat out into bed-mode and pile on among pillows and blankets. Five of us don’t really fit all that comfortably, but we make do. (A new arrangement will have to be figured out when Quinn is no longer a pint-sized little sweetie who can sit directly in front of me without blocking my view.) Sometimes it’s inconvenient and a bit of a hassle, but I love Friday Night Movie Night.
The biggest blow to this weekly event was the closing of our local video store. Many a Friday afternoon was spent at Bucky’s Supervideo wandering the aisles and trying to come to a family consensus on what to rent. But sadly, Bucky’s closed it’s doors a few months ago, and the DVD selection at our local library is… let’s say ‘unpredictable.’ The library is also closed on Fridays, so we actually have to plan ahead. Or choose from whatever odd things are available on Netflix Instant View or already on our own shelves.
In any case, I thought I’d throw out some of our lessons learned thus far, offer ideas and suggestions for movies to those with small kids, and hope for more recommendations from anyone out there who are in the mood to just name good movies.
It’s hard finding things that all five of us want to watch, and if we get started late sometimes we need to keep movie night short. To customize the length of movie night we often turn to things with lots of small episodes. Our favorites are Shaun the Sheep, Spongebob Squarepants, and Pingu. Shaun the Sheep is a spin off of the Wallace and Gromit claymation movies. They are fun for adults and they keep Quinn laughing too. Pingu is odd and sweet, and Spongebob is just funny.
By comparison, we recently watched a collection of old Felix the Cat cartoons, and man they were weird. They contained some uncomfortable portrayals of race that we had to explain, and even though the kids enjoyed them simply because they were cartoons, Ian and I found them to be really pitiful in every respect. Which is funny, because I remember liking them as a kid myself, but they don’t hold up well. They were amusing but only because they were kind of unintentionally surreal. Anyway, it’s nice to have lots of little episodes in a row because you can find a good stopping point instead of interrupting a larger story if people are too tired to stay up.
Silent movies are fun. My kids really enjoyed Modern Times and still talk about it. I like that my kids know who Charlie Chaplain is, and that they are not put off by things in black and white or without speech. They are fans of Harold Lloyd, too. Since nearly everything had to be expressed without words, the gestures, etc., are exaggerated enough for even little kids to follow. My kids also like the Marx Brothers, but only Aden is old enough to get the fast verbal jokes. Everyone loves Harpo. It’s fun to point out to the kids how many of the gags they enjoy in the Animaniacs and other shows were lifted straight from old movies and now they are in on the references.
Pixar movies seem to be a little too intense for my kids for some reason, which is a shame because I wouldn’t mind watching Up again, or Toy Story 2. If there is one scene in a film that gets them too nervous they nix the whole movie. (Maybe when they are older.)
We try to introduce the kids to things we liked growing up. We did some old episodes of The Muppet Show and Rocky and Bullwinkle and those went over well.
We’ve seen every available Miyazaki animated film, (why those aren’t freakier to them than Pixar movies I don’t know) but Ian hasn’t seen most of them, so they are due for a rerun. The kids like My Neighbor Totoro best, probably. Ponyo is maybe the weirdest film I’ve ever seen, but if you give up on the idea that it needs to make any sense it’s enjoyable.
Actually, that reminds me of something I meant to write about a full year ago and never got around to. I had a weird moral dilemma and would be curious about other people’s opinions. One of the movies we watched while Ian was away that the kids liked best was Kiki’s Delivery Service. It’s another Miyazaki film, and therefore it was originally in Japanese and the English version is dubbed. My kids loved that movie, particularly Aden, who adored the music and memorized all the dialogue. We got it in the mail through Netflix and hung onto it for weeks. After a month of endless viewings we happened across a copy of the movie on sale at Target. I thought, “Great! We will own it and I can finally send the other copy back to Netflix!”
Unfortunately, the new copy of Kiki’s Delivery Service had been dubbed differently from the one we were used to. Some of the lines had been changed, and something about the music was different. (I’m not sure of the details because I, personally, don’t care. But Aden can run a list off for you.) The kids hated it. Actually, I think just Aden hated it, and by extension the other kids decided they hated it too.
So I thought about it, and wondered if it would be wrong to mail our new copy back to Netflix and keep the old one. There was a small sticker with a bar code on it around the hole in the center of the DVD on the Netflix copy, and it would be easy enough to pull that off and move it over to the other DVD. I figured how bad could it be? They get a newer cleaner copy, we get to keep the one that makes the kids happy, it was win win. But Aden saw me messing with the little sticker on the DVD and asked me what I was doing. I explained what I’d been thinking, and then she said, “Isn’t that stealing?” So I stopped and said that maybe it was. What lesson was I teaching Aden?
I pondered it for several days. If switching the DVDs was potentially positive all around, was it wrong? I decided to call Netflix. I got a nice woman in customer service whose first reaction was that I try the switch and see if I get away with it. I told her I didn’t want to “get away with it,” that’s why I was calling. If I had permission, it wasn’t wrong. I wanted to be above board. She thought about it a little longer, and said most people when they wanted to keep something just pretend they lost it and paid the small fine. I told her I didn’t want to pretend anything, that my daughter was watching, and I wanted to be honest. She thought about it a little more. She was a fan of the film and knew about the differences between the two versions. She said the only potential problem for Netflix was that all the copies they owned were of the first version, and someone else trying to rent it again might be confused to get a different version in the mail. It was an interesting conversation, and in the end she decided it probably wasn’t right of her as a representative of the company to suggest I do anything other than send back the copy they originally sent me. Which is what I did.
Aden still refuses to watch the newer version, even though I have a hard time believing a year later she remembers every nuance of what is different, but she might. I may insist on it anyway some Friday night and tell her to get over it already.
But what does anyone else think? It’s not a quandary for the ages by any means, but it was an interesting little ethical puzzle to me for a little while. Ethics are important to me. I want my children to be compassionate, critically thinking, ethical people, and those are qualities best led by example. So I’m comfortable with how that got resolved, even though I’m sure many people would have made a different choice and not seen it as a big deal. But to me if the end result is that Aden can say to herself, “Mommy doesn’t steal” then it was worth it.
Okay! It’s almost Friday! Movie suggestions! I need ’em!
Monday, October 12, 2009
The Bright Side (Babble)
During Ian’s last deployment I dealt with the Army calling me.
Well-meaning people would check in from inaccessible places like Ohio
and Texas and who knows where, and ask me questions that made me cry. I
remember once when I was about eight months pregnant a gentle sounding
soldier in Columbus asked how he could help, and I told him unless he
could carry the laundry up the stairs for me, he couldn’t. I was
hormonal and stressed and tired, and I hated these calls. I finally
wrote to the Army and told them not to contact me unless it was about
something I needed to know.
The worst was someone doing a survey for the military. He asked a long string of somewhat personal multiple choice questions about how we were coping with Ian’s deployment. About halfway through I burst into tears. I missed Ian so badly and I was so tired, and each new question forced me to examine in detail just how hard things were without him. It was awful. I kept choking out answers and the guy never paused or asked if I needed a break or if I should even continue.
The only time he deviated from his script was after he asked me, “In what ways has your spouse’s deployment been beneficial to you and your family?” and I answered, “None.”
“None?”
“No, none.”
“You can’t think of anything that’s been good about it?” He sounded somewhere between astonished and annoyed.
What did he want me to say? I was pregnant and caring for two small children alone. I was scared all the time. I was tired and overwhelmed. Mona and Aden were growing and changing and Ian was missing it. There was nothing good about any of it. The guy eventually sighed and plowed ahead with his questions. I don't know why I didn't hang up, except that the Army had given me the runaround on so many things from healthcare to ID cards that if complaining helped fix something I felt I should do it.
But this time I feel more grounded. And this time my kids are old enough to be swayed by my perspective on what's happening. So even though I would still answer, "None" on that insensitive survey, here is everything I can find on the bright side of this deployment:
The only possible upside I could have mentioned last time was the steady income. That was nice, but not nice enough to matter, so I dismissed it. We don't live extravagantly. We have gotten by for years on Ian's weekend Reserve income and my teaching and repair work. When we enrolled Aden in Head Start the person processing our paperwork pointed out we were eligible for food stamps. We never made much but we never spent much. We found our kids highly entertaining and watching them was free. (Before them we had bunnies--also cheap entertainment.) We used the money he made last time to open the violin store. A portion of the money this time is slated for some necessary work on the house before Ian returns. I'd still rather have Ian home, but I won't pretend that steady income isn't welcome. I'm grateful, especially in these troubled economic times, that money isn't among my worries.
I am not pregnant. It cannot be emphasized enough how much easier it is to deal with a deployment while not pregnant.
My kids are far more self-sufficient than last time. Having to do everything for everyone all the time was exhausting. I remember once on our way out the door trying to figure out why it took us an hour to get out of the house in the winter, and then it hit me that if I even just dressed and re-dressed myself four times in a row, it would take a long time, especially with boots and coats on top of everything, i also never got through dressing everyone without one of the kids needing to have a diaper changed. Quinn needs some help putting on his pants, but other than that they all dress themselves now. It's great.
They can all use the bathroom. I didn't mind diapers, but now that they are over, there is nothing I miss about them. Mona was nearly four by the time she was potty trained. I looked at Ian when he got back from Iraq in 2007 and said, "You thought the war was rough? You have two weeks to potty train Mona before school starts." Quinn, on the other hand, potty trained himself months ago. Not long after he turned two he got tired of diapers and that was that. He's even dry at night. I'm not boasting because I can take no credit for it, but it's a relief not to be up and down on the floor all the time with diapers and wipes and ointment. I don't miss the diaper bag.
I know who I can turn to. The last deployment taught me who I could count on and who would rather be left alone. That's useful. I don't want to be a burden to anyone, and I know which people really meant it when they said, "If there is anything you need..."
I am completely in charge of the Netflix queue. Not that this is a point of contention in our house, but Ian can never think of anything he wants to put on it, yet he wants to watch what I get with me. Rightly or wrongly this influences what I choose, and now it doesn't matter. I can go through all five seasons of Angel and not feel any guilt whatsoever.
I'm getting to know more of the other parents and friends in our kids' lives. Since Ian was always the one picking the girls up and dropping them off at school, he was the one who saw everybody. People have been introducing themselves to me on the playground so I'm finally able to put faces to names.
The house is neat. The house gets away from Ian when he's here, but when it's just me in charge the house stays tidy. I think part of that is when there is another responsible adult in the house, each of us thinks/hopes/wishes the other will pick things up. Now when I pass an item on the stairs I go ahead and put it away because I'm the only one who will.
I can sleep with the covers in a big messy wad.
I feel more informed about our finances. When Ian's home he pays all the bills, but now I'm writing the checks and sending out the envelopes and it's good to have a more exact sense of what we pay for water and electricity and the phones. Makes me feel more like a grownup.
Visitors. I love my brothers, but it's unusual to see them more than once or twice a year. Arno is coming to see me after a conference in Chicago in late October, and Barrett promised to come out and help at some point, too. Mom and dad were working on dates to visit as well. I've got things pretty well under control so far, so I don't know how much "help" I need, but don't tell them that. I love having them here, and if Ian's deployment draws them in this direction, I'll take it.
The shoveling service. My friend, Gabby, wants to help me from afar, so she hired a lawn and shoveling service last time and asked me if she could please please please do anything this time. Who am I to refuse? She's hoping for enough blizzards this winter for her to get her money's worth.
Our kitchen table really only seats four well. When we all try to eat together, either Ian or I get squished or one of us just stands by to eat.
Health insurance. Ian and I went without coverage for a long time because none of our employers offered it, and the available options were way more expensive than we could afford. We even paid for Aden's birth out of pocket, when it came time to have Mona Ian didn't know how we could handle it. We signed up for Badgercare, which is state run health coverage program here in Wisconsin, and it was great, but it didn't cover Ian. Since Ian's first deployment we were all covered by Tricare, the military health insurance. It's convoluted and sometimes very frustrating, but it's there, and I'm very glad we have it.
Extra drawer space. Ian gave me permission to purge old shirts and socks, etc. from his dresser. Whatever's left I will soon box up and store in the basement until he gets back. For a while my own shirts will have elbow room.
Email. I think often about my grandma during World War II, living here in Milwaukee, caring for my mom and giving birth to my uncle without grandpa around. She didn't hear from her husband very often when he was at war. I get quick little notes on my computer frequently. I can keep Ian up to date on funny things the kids say and do and ask him questions if I need to. Deployment without email would be far lonelier than I care to contemplate.
No terse dicussions about the Scooba. We have a Roomba (vacuuming robot) that we got for Christmas a couple of years back that is very handy. So Ian decided we should invest in the mopping version as well. It drives me crazy. It takes longer, is more work, and does and inferior job compared to what I do myself. He's a happy guy with a gadget, though, so he defends it and buys it new batteries. For the time being, at least, I have unplugged it and banished the Schooba to a lonely corner of the laundry room.
If Quinn wants to snuggle at night there is room in the bed. Usually if there is a night he needs cuddling to sleep better, either Ian or I have to flee the bed and sleep somewhere else.
The kids are all mine all the time. Not that I ever resent sharing, and not that there aren't moments they drive me up the wall, but I love seeing them so much. They are lovely, fascinating people, and my life is filled with hugs an nuzzles and smiles. I'm a very lucky person and I know it.
Looking it over, it's a good list. Now ask me how much of it I would trade to have Ian home.
The worst was someone doing a survey for the military. He asked a long string of somewhat personal multiple choice questions about how we were coping with Ian’s deployment. About halfway through I burst into tears. I missed Ian so badly and I was so tired, and each new question forced me to examine in detail just how hard things were without him. It was awful. I kept choking out answers and the guy never paused or asked if I needed a break or if I should even continue.
The only time he deviated from his script was after he asked me, “In what ways has your spouse’s deployment been beneficial to you and your family?” and I answered, “None.”
“None?”
“No, none.”
“You can’t think of anything that’s been good about it?” He sounded somewhere between astonished and annoyed.
What did he want me to say? I was pregnant and caring for two small children alone. I was scared all the time. I was tired and overwhelmed. Mona and Aden were growing and changing and Ian was missing it. There was nothing good about any of it. The guy eventually sighed and plowed ahead with his questions. I don't know why I didn't hang up, except that the Army had given me the runaround on so many things from healthcare to ID cards that if complaining helped fix something I felt I should do it.
But this time I feel more grounded. And this time my kids are old enough to be swayed by my perspective on what's happening. So even though I would still answer, "None" on that insensitive survey, here is everything I can find on the bright side of this deployment:
The only possible upside I could have mentioned last time was the steady income. That was nice, but not nice enough to matter, so I dismissed it. We don't live extravagantly. We have gotten by for years on Ian's weekend Reserve income and my teaching and repair work. When we enrolled Aden in Head Start the person processing our paperwork pointed out we were eligible for food stamps. We never made much but we never spent much. We found our kids highly entertaining and watching them was free. (Before them we had bunnies--also cheap entertainment.) We used the money he made last time to open the violin store. A portion of the money this time is slated for some necessary work on the house before Ian returns. I'd still rather have Ian home, but I won't pretend that steady income isn't welcome. I'm grateful, especially in these troubled economic times, that money isn't among my worries.
I am not pregnant. It cannot be emphasized enough how much easier it is to deal with a deployment while not pregnant.
My kids are far more self-sufficient than last time. Having to do everything for everyone all the time was exhausting. I remember once on our way out the door trying to figure out why it took us an hour to get out of the house in the winter, and then it hit me that if I even just dressed and re-dressed myself four times in a row, it would take a long time, especially with boots and coats on top of everything, i also never got through dressing everyone without one of the kids needing to have a diaper changed. Quinn needs some help putting on his pants, but other than that they all dress themselves now. It's great.
They can all use the bathroom. I didn't mind diapers, but now that they are over, there is nothing I miss about them. Mona was nearly four by the time she was potty trained. I looked at Ian when he got back from Iraq in 2007 and said, "You thought the war was rough? You have two weeks to potty train Mona before school starts." Quinn, on the other hand, potty trained himself months ago. Not long after he turned two he got tired of diapers and that was that. He's even dry at night. I'm not boasting because I can take no credit for it, but it's a relief not to be up and down on the floor all the time with diapers and wipes and ointment. I don't miss the diaper bag.
I know who I can turn to. The last deployment taught me who I could count on and who would rather be left alone. That's useful. I don't want to be a burden to anyone, and I know which people really meant it when they said, "If there is anything you need..."
I am completely in charge of the Netflix queue. Not that this is a point of contention in our house, but Ian can never think of anything he wants to put on it, yet he wants to watch what I get with me. Rightly or wrongly this influences what I choose, and now it doesn't matter. I can go through all five seasons of Angel and not feel any guilt whatsoever.
I'm getting to know more of the other parents and friends in our kids' lives. Since Ian was always the one picking the girls up and dropping them off at school, he was the one who saw everybody. People have been introducing themselves to me on the playground so I'm finally able to put faces to names.
The house is neat. The house gets away from Ian when he's here, but when it's just me in charge the house stays tidy. I think part of that is when there is another responsible adult in the house, each of us thinks/hopes/wishes the other will pick things up. Now when I pass an item on the stairs I go ahead and put it away because I'm the only one who will.
I can sleep with the covers in a big messy wad.
I feel more informed about our finances. When Ian's home he pays all the bills, but now I'm writing the checks and sending out the envelopes and it's good to have a more exact sense of what we pay for water and electricity and the phones. Makes me feel more like a grownup.
Visitors. I love my brothers, but it's unusual to see them more than once or twice a year. Arno is coming to see me after a conference in Chicago in late October, and Barrett promised to come out and help at some point, too. Mom and dad were working on dates to visit as well. I've got things pretty well under control so far, so I don't know how much "help" I need, but don't tell them that. I love having them here, and if Ian's deployment draws them in this direction, I'll take it.
The shoveling service. My friend, Gabby, wants to help me from afar, so she hired a lawn and shoveling service last time and asked me if she could please please please do anything this time. Who am I to refuse? She's hoping for enough blizzards this winter for her to get her money's worth.
Our kitchen table really only seats four well. When we all try to eat together, either Ian or I get squished or one of us just stands by to eat.
Health insurance. Ian and I went without coverage for a long time because none of our employers offered it, and the available options were way more expensive than we could afford. We even paid for Aden's birth out of pocket, when it came time to have Mona Ian didn't know how we could handle it. We signed up for Badgercare, which is state run health coverage program here in Wisconsin, and it was great, but it didn't cover Ian. Since Ian's first deployment we were all covered by Tricare, the military health insurance. It's convoluted and sometimes very frustrating, but it's there, and I'm very glad we have it.
Extra drawer space. Ian gave me permission to purge old shirts and socks, etc. from his dresser. Whatever's left I will soon box up and store in the basement until he gets back. For a while my own shirts will have elbow room.
Email. I think often about my grandma during World War II, living here in Milwaukee, caring for my mom and giving birth to my uncle without grandpa around. She didn't hear from her husband very often when he was at war. I get quick little notes on my computer frequently. I can keep Ian up to date on funny things the kids say and do and ask him questions if I need to. Deployment without email would be far lonelier than I care to contemplate.
No terse dicussions about the Scooba. We have a Roomba (vacuuming robot) that we got for Christmas a couple of years back that is very handy. So Ian decided we should invest in the mopping version as well. It drives me crazy. It takes longer, is more work, and does and inferior job compared to what I do myself. He's a happy guy with a gadget, though, so he defends it and buys it new batteries. For the time being, at least, I have unplugged it and banished the Schooba to a lonely corner of the laundry room.
If Quinn wants to snuggle at night there is room in the bed. Usually if there is a night he needs cuddling to sleep better, either Ian or I have to flee the bed and sleep somewhere else.
The kids are all mine all the time. Not that I ever resent sharing, and not that there aren't moments they drive me up the wall, but I love seeing them so much. They are lovely, fascinating people, and my life is filled with hugs an nuzzles and smiles. I'm a very lucky person and I know it.
Looking it over, it's a good list. Now ask me how much of it I would trade to have Ian home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)