I Almost Forgot: Ask And Ye Shall Receive!

I posted last week about feeling the need to purchase a dryer, but I wasn't quite committed yet, mostly for financial reasons, but also because of all the heavy metals and things that are in dryers that eventually end up in landfills and watersheds.

Well, I wasn't quite committed, but I was kinda hoping and praying to find one cheap. I browsed kijiji for one, but soon gave up the idea for two reasons. First, because the dryers within my price range are really old and I'm afraid they would consume too much energy. Second, because I realized I could never get the thing home, and most people want you to pick the item up. They don't deliver.

Well, great was my surprise - and joy! - when my sons' old teacher dropped by with a bag of clothes that her children had outgrown, and wouldn't I like a dryer because the one she has is just too small for her needs? All I had to do was say yes, because she knew someone who was moving to their new place next (this) week and they could bring it to me since they would have a truck to move with anyway? It was almost too good to be true, but it WASN'T too good to be true!

Today at around 10 AM I got a call to see if I was home, and here is a beautiful, clean dryer in my living room. (Not taking up as much place as I had feared either!)

It that isn't divine providence, I don't know what is! :o)

I'm quite excited to be the owner of my very own dryer for the first time in my life. I can't wait to use it, but I am not going to go overboard: I only really intend to use it for First Son's bedding, so that he can sleep without his dust and dust-mite allergies making him snore. The heat of the dryer kills those suckers dead.

I leave you with a picture:

The place where the dryer is used to be occupied by a rather large filing cabinet, so the space it occupies isn't making much of a change in the grand scheme of things. :o)

No Regrets (So this post won't be called "Why I Never Should Have Gotten Married.")

This morning, after about 17 months on the waiting list, I finally got to speak with a therapist from my local CLSC. I haven't much to report because 1) this was just our first meeting, so we basically just chatted and got to know each other, and 2) therapy is confidential anyway! :p So there!

It did get me thinking about some things, though, while I was driving to the appointment. What do I want to talk about? What do I need to talk about? What outcome am I hoping for? Not surprisingly, it all pretty much led back to my marriage.

I don't believe in talking about people behind their back, so I won't get into all the nasty stuff I have gone through. Instead, I will share a bit of wisdom I learned from my Bahai friend. At the same time, this can kind of make up for the fact that I didn't write my usual Sunday post yesterday. (Too busy with the kids, and that's not an excuse, that's a reason.)

One day over a picnic lunch in Confederation Park, my Bahai Friend and I were talking about marriage. He asked me what marriage was. By the time I met Friend, I had been married for seven years and had a daughter who was over a year and a half. I had already gone through some difficulty in my marriage. In fact, the first time I seriously thought about divorce was when my daughter was born. I was that disappointed in my husband as a father. All this to say, I thought I knew what marriage was and proceeded to give Friend a definition involving such big words as partnership and commitment.

Friend listened to what I had to say, then gave me his version, that is to say, the version of the Bahai Faith. Marriage is a law. I was a bit surprised by this. I had, of course, "heard of the go forth and multiply" bit in the Bible, but I never thought of marriage as an actual law. Being the open-minded person I was and am, I asked Friend to tell me about the Bahai view of marriage. Since friend in these circumstances was also Teacher to me, and a very good one at that, he complied.

One of the things that really struck me in what Friend told me was that for Bahais, if the parents of the bride and groom didn't agree to the marriage union, the marriage could not take place. Now, for most of us, we of course want our parents' blessing, but how many of us will actually refrain from getting married if we don't get it? I would guess most people would decide for themselves if they want to get married, despite parental objections. (I fell into this category myself.)

If you think about it, though, getting parental approval makes sense. Besides the fact that it literally lets you practice Honor thy father and thy mother, making sure that parents agree with their child's choice for a spouse also ensures harmony after the marriage. I think of it like a miracle potion for getting along with your in-laws. If I look back on my own experiences, life could have been so much more pleasant if my parents and my husband had gotten along. Unfortunately, they disliked him, and he disliked them (that's putting it mildly!) with a vengeance. This was not only an issue when we all got together, but was also a problem even when my family wasn't around, since my husband continued to badmouth them. For years and years, I tried to make him understand that when he put them down, he was also putting a part of me down. He never got it. Unfortunately, even though I was aware of it, being conscious of the fact still didn't help me protect my own self-esteem from Husband's continuous verbal put-downs.

I think the Bahai faith has a very intelligent view of marriage. Had I known about their way of thinking, and had I thought seriously about it before, I probably would never have gotten married to the man who became my Husband. Of course, the previous sentence uses the conditional; I also know that given the chance to do it over again, and knowing the outcome, I still would have married him. The reason is that we have three super-dee-duper kids, and I would not give them up for anything. So, no regrets. 

Now, a funny short story:

I have thought to myself in the past that had I met my Friend earlier in life, I never would have gotten married to Husband. I once told my sister this, but without filling her in as to WHY I felt this way. (i.e. I didn't tell her about the Bahai views on marriage and about how the parents had to agree to the marriage.) So, great was her surprise when we met him in the street one day and I introduced her to my Bahai Friend. I think she was expecting to see some twenty-year-old hunk. Instead, she met a man in his late fifties, balding and with a bit of a beer belly. Shorter than me, to boot. Great was her surprise!  She thought I meant that I wouldn't have married Husband because I would have married Friend instead! Obviously, I had some 'splainin' to do! lol So I set things straight and explained that Friend was Friend and Teacher to me, and nothing more. (And I told her to get her mind out of the gutter! :p  )

The End   (See? It was so short, it's practically just an anecdote!)

Busy Day... But we've had our little chat.

Amazingly, I slept until 9 am this morning, and I was the first one to wake. I went right to the kitchen to feed our kitty and just then First Son also came to have breakfast. We were both in a good, relaxed mood, and it was a blessing that it was just the two of us, so I made him breakfast and we sat down to eat together. First Son had Dino Eggs Oatmeal and I had a garlic naan with greek yoghurt on it.

I brought up, very gently, what happened yesterday. I told him that the lady had said that she didn't feel he respected her, and that she had had difficulty in getting him to listen and to behave. His response? "I didn't know she worked there." (In my head I'm thinking, "Wrong answer!")

I assumed that First Son was playing innocent, and that he was making this up, but it turns out that he really didn't realize she was working there. He thought she was just there to pick up her daughter. As to who First Son thought was in charge? He didn't realize that his regular caregiver wasn't there that day! Honestly? I can't understand it, but apparently he never noticed that it was this new lady who was taking roll and taking them to the gym to play.

Well, of course I asked him to pay more attention, and I told him that no matter who was taking care of him, or even just talking to him "from the sidelines," he should always pay attention and be respectful.

First Son has a bit of a stubborn streak, and he kept insisting that he didn't know that the lady worked there, but I insisted that it was irrelevant, and that his motto should be to love and respect everybody.

I think in the end we reached some sort of agreement. At any rate, we were able to agree and we had a very nice day afterwards. We all had a very nice day, as a matter of fact. I got a bit of one-on-one time with all three of the kids, which is quite an accomplishment. I am grateful to have pulled it off today.

Ouch! That hurts.

Today the lady who usually looks after First Son at school was absent, and a classmate's mom was substituting. They were in the gymnasium and they were climbing the wall bars and jumping down onto a mattress. They were supposed to go one at a time, but suddenly there were five kids up on the wall. The lady asked them to come down because it wasn't safe to go more than one at a time, and everyone obeyed except First Son. The lady had to repeat herself several times and when First Son finally came down, he said to the girl, "It's just your mom." 

This is wrong in so many ways, I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard it. First of all, First Son was disobedient when he wouldn't climb down from the wall bars. Secondly, he was disrespectful to both his classmate and to her mother, when he should have obeyed her, as she was the responsible adult looking after him. Last but not least, he basically said that it wasn't important to listen to the woman because she was just a mom, and that hurts me right down to the core. 

If life is a rollercoaster, I certainly plumetted down when I heard what First Son had said. Is this really what he feels and where did he get this idea? Does a mother not deserve respect? I feel about two inches tall right now. :o(

I know I have to speak to him about it, but right now I just sent him to his room because if I open my mouth now, I will either cry or whine. I have to be calm to talk to him, and right now I don't even know what I would say. I am also angry and if I talk to him in anger he will only be angry back and counterattack, whether it is relevant or not.

What a lovely way to start the weekend. :/

Eating Crow

I don't have a clothes dryer. I consider them a luxury and I have always taken a firm position on getting one for my family: No way, Jose!

Apart from the fact that they eat up electricity the same way a Hummer guzzles gas, (that is, uselessly!), I am Hungarian and in Hungary we never had dryers before. We would always hang our clothes to dry, usually on a really nifty hanger that pulleyed down from the ceiling in the bathroom. I don't know what these things are called but they are awesome.

Other people would hang them on plain foldable clothes drying racks and the luckiest people would hang them out on their balconies or back yards. No dryers in Hungary. Of course, this is my 7-year-old impression of Hungary because that is how old I was when I left. Nowadays driers are slowly making their way into the homes of people who can afford them. But I digress...

There is not really any room in my present apartment for a dryer, as even the washing machine is in the living room. This is a house that was converted into three apartments, so there isn't the usual laundry cabinet to hide the washer in. It's right there, in plain sight, in my living room. Hideous, to tell you the truth. In Hungary, the washing machines are also smaller than our behemoth North American models, and there is always room for them in the bathroom. But, again, I digress...

A few years ago, a friend of mine's washer broke and to replace it she bought a washer-dryer set. She wanted me to buy her old dryer so she could have the space for the new one. I refused, saying how I didn't need a dryer and didn't want the added electricity consumption, besides which I dried my clothes quite nicely on my drying racks and didn't feel the need to buy a machine. I probably mentioned that dryers are not good for the environment because of the energy they consume and because of the amount of metal, etc. that goes into them and eventually into our landfills. Long story short, I didn't want to buy her drier, but there was also the fact that I sometimes got the feeling she was trying to make money off me. I had bought a few things from her before, like lots of children's clothes. (To be fair, though, she also did give me a lot of hand-me-downs for free.) So I did not want her dryer.

She tried to convince me that a family with three children needed a dryer, and she gave me examples, like if a child is sick and vomiting a lot and you have to wash the sheets and need to dry them quickly before he vomits again and you need fresh sheets for the bed again. In my case, I had of course been in such situations, but had always managed without having to resort to running out and buying clean sheets. Or a dryer. This was pretty stressful to me because I didn't want to refute her arguments by making her feel incompetent. Perhaps she deemed a dryer a necessity, but I could manage very well without one. The situation got to be so bad, that in the end I ended the friendship. Not JUST over the dryer, over other things also, but the dryer was a thorn on my side among others.

Lately, though, I have come to be a little impatient about drying clothes on racks in the living room. I always feel better when the laundry is folded and put away in its place. The living room just seems more livable like that. Also, since I found out that Second Son is allergic to dust and dust mites (among numerous other things!) I have to wash his sheets once a week, and the allergist recommends washing them in hot water and then drying them in a machine. The heat kills the dust mites.

So lately I have been thinking about swallowing my pride and actually starting to look for a dryer. I'm not 100% committed, since I really can't afford to buy one, and I am afraid of my electricity bill skyrocketing, not to mention that I couldn't fit one into my car and I don't want to pay for shipping, but I am thinking about it more and more. The last little nudge in this direction came from Daughter, who was upset that I had washed her beach towel - the new one she had gotten from her grandparents! - because now it was rough from air-drying and she had liked it soft.

So I am starting to cave to the pressure. You might in the not-too-distant future see a rare sight: the high and mighty Airdry Snob eating crow.

Back To Reality (Homework Wars)

First Son is in grade two, and he hates homework. I don't want to generalize and say that it is because he is a boy, but he certainly is less accepting of it that Daughter, who gets it all done very independently, and who has always been good at getting it done, ever since grade one.

First Son doesn't think it's fair that he has to do homework while Second Son, who is in kindergarten, gets to play. So getting him to do his homework and lessons has become a nightly battle - The Homework Wars.

First Son has any number of excuses or ploys to get out of doing homework. He forgets his agenda at school, where he has written down what needs to be done. He forgets his binder at school, the one that has all the homework sheets and lessons in it. He can't find a pencil. He can't find an eraser. He can't concentrate because the neighbor is playing his music too loud. He can't concentrate because he can only think about playing, like Second Son gets to do.

I do try to be understanding at first. I mean, what can I do when he doesn't have his agenda in his bag on Monday night? But as the week goes on and the pressure rises, I start to lose my patience, to which anger is a very good defense mechanism. First Son's defense is a angry offense. 

When First Son gets angry, there is no way he can do homework. He gets so mad, and then when I tell him he didn't get the right answer to the word problem in math, he starts to cry. For my part, it is really frustrating, especially because I don't know if he is truly sad or angry, or if he is just playing me to get out of doing homework.

This morning I found two sheets of paper on the living room floor, one of them badly chewed by our pet bunny, who we don't keep caged. They are obviously sheets of homework paper, and I got very angry at First Son for not taking better care of his school things. How is he supposed to hand this in now?

Finding it strange that I have yet to receive a single note about First Son's homework assignments, I wrote his teacher an email. I mentioned that I was wondering why she hadn't sent any notes home, since First Son still has homework assignments from EASTER(!!!) unfinished in his desk in his room. He obviously doesn't hand his homework in on time, and he doesn't do his lessons either, since he is not well-practiced enough in his multiplications, which again causes a problem with the homework.

I also mentioned in my email that First Son has been playing the victim of late, saying how everyone at school is against him and how no one wants to play with him at recess.

I was very surprised when the teacher responded to my email within less than an hour to say that everything was fine at school. First Son is happy, well-adjusted, always smiling. (It is true that it has been some time since he brought home a written reprimand... a few weeks, I'd say.) It appears that First Son's only problem is sticking to the truth. He keeps telling me how bad things are at school, and he keeps telling the teacher that he is so tired at the end of the day that he can't do homework, so she has told him just to hand everything in whenever he can. I nearly fell out of my chair when I read that. My son is a little manipulator!

Needless to say, I replied to the teacher's email and set her straight. First Son is not tired at night. He can play, he can fight with his little brother and argue with me without even batting an eyelid. I am happy to hear that things are going well at school, but he has a little talking-to waiting for him tonight, about diligence and schoolwork, with a little lecture about honesty, while I'm at it.

Ooooooh! I am so frustrated! I had better find a way to calm down so I can talk to him without turning it into an argument. *sigh* The joys of parenting...

Yoga... aaah!

I finally got back to doing yoga today, after waaaaay too long. I think the last time I went was on my birthday, (Prana Shanti gives you a free yoga class on your birthday), but that was just one class. Before that, I don't think I've been since last fall.

Today I eased into it with a Kundalini And Meditation class. I freely admit that I mostly went for the meditation. I have taken this class before and I must say, there is nothing like meditating to a gong. Its vibrations fill up the spaces inside you and allow you to completely surrender to nothingness. It is such an amazing experience. There are no grocery lists being written in my head when I meditate to a gong, that's for sure! And to think that I almost didn't go!

A already canceled yoga with my sister yesterday, and this morning I was fairly certain that I would do the same today. I woke up with a throat ache that made it painful to swallow. I was tired, grumpy and very pessimistic. I was in an "I hate life and life hates me" sort of mood. To tell you the truth, I don't even know why I ended up going. I have no clue at all...

When I did show up for class, I was feeling very apprehensive. I was feeling heavy and sluggish and basically too fat to get off my butt and do anything. Well, for a person who was feeling apprehensive, pessimistic and grumpy, I was feeling energized, (relieved!) and determined by the end of class. I am now determined to go back, and to make a habit of yoga instead of slipping back down into inertia's clutches.

The lucky thing about this class was that it moved at a good pace. We moved from one exercise to the next at just the right rhythm.  More than once, I was just about to give up because my muscles couldn't take it any more, when the teacher moved us on to another exercise. It was perfect. I did feel some muscle pain, but managed to keep up.

It feels like a big accomplishment to have gone today. I went with my sister, and we have promised each other that we would go again. Also, I am determined to get back into regular practice, and that includes practicing at home. I am putting it in writing here to force myself not to back out. It's official.

Another possible benefit of having gone today is that I might repeat one of the meditations we did, Sat (truth) Nam (self), with First Son. It is a silent meditation. You inhale on the Sat (say it in your head) and exhale on the Nam. It is such a relaxing exercise, I think it might help him go to sleep at night. I'm glad I went to yoga, for First Son, and also for me as a nice time out from the endless worries of life.

So, what are you going to do for yourself today? :o)