I’ve been slacking

On this blog. On writing letters to my grandparents. On sending emails to friends.

Please understand, I’ve been up to my ears in being a stay at home mom. It has been my own personal Hell.

Now, I know most of you are thinking, “Dear God, what the heck is wrong with her?” Let me put it this way: neither my son nor I have the personalities to be stay-at-home-with-each-other kind of family members. O is the greatest joy of my life. But sometimes I want to lock myself in the closet and not come out until his father gets home and puts him to bed. O is social. And energetic. Curious. A pain in the ass. He is helpful and wants to interact and jumps at any chance to be with you and do things with you. Unfortunately, his eagerness to close the dishwasher and turn it on does not bode well when I haven’t finished loading it and he starts it running while I’m in the middle of scraping oatmeal off of a bowl.

I’ve tried giving him tasks. I’ve even dragged his toys into the kitchen so I can get my stuff done while he plays. No go. So I end up engaged with him all day and trying to get all of my cooking/cleaning done while he naps. Thank God he naps. Its the only hour and a half I have a moment to myself. I just want a moment to myself. That’s all. To make dinner without little hands trying to grab the onionĀ  off the chopping board. Without O screaming “Look, Mama!” and me dreading to see what mess he’s made… I’m not cut out for this.

Don’t get me wrong, I think stay at home parents are great. The child has a primary caregiver around all the time. I just don’t know if I should be O’s primary caregiver. It’s like adult me has my baby brother trying to play with her all day long.

I thank the dear sweet Virgin Mary that O is orienting at Kindergarten this week. I can start dropping him off and leaving him there next Monday.


There will be no photos

Getting used to life here in Germany has been interesting. Actually, some things I find I like better around here. Others, not so much. On top of everything, I’m having to learn how to be much more frugal and stretch a dollar like every other good German Hausfrau (housewife). Shoot me in the face…

Buying things from the generic brand wasn’t so hard. At first, I didn’t know which ones were the name brand items anyway. And once I found I like the cheaper brand of certain things, I didn’t see much point in switching. Exception: Pasta. Not all brands are equal. Fortunately, I’ve found Barilla on sale twice for under a Euro per box. So I’ve stocked up on the good stuff. I also make some things from scratch and go without those luxuries I loved so much back home. (I painted my own toenails for the first time in like 4 years)

HOWEVER. There is one thing I will NEVER, NEVER, NEVER do again to save a buck: At-home haircut.

We took O to a cheap-ey salon about 2 months ago. The woman was not nice and scared him. So he cried and squirmed and she made some comment like “I can’t work like this”. Basically, she didn’t like kids and didn’t want to cut his hair and O knew it and freaked. He has never cried like that before getting his hair cut. I told Husband that we should find a place better suited to kids next time. He and his mother both said, “Oh, nobody brings their kids to a hair dresser, they just do it themselves.” Given the raggedy-looking state of some kids I’ve seen, that may very well be true. So A basically said, “Oh let’s save the $ and you just do it yourself.” Please note, he did not volunteer to help in any fashion, much less, cut it himself. No, that responsibility is on me…. Now, I have trimmed my brother’s hair before. It didn’t look great, but it held him over til he could get to a professional. A little gel and some styling and it covered mistakes. So, I could try it, right?

I prepped everything. I put the chair in the center of the living room in front of the TV. I had cartoons on for entertainment. The comb was sitting in a cup of water and I had my good hair trimming scissors out. I gave O a popsicle and put him in the chair. He was good at first. He tilted his head when I asked and didn’t wiggle too much. I, on the other hand, still managed to screw it up in every way imaginable. The hair but his ears was cut too high up and I couldn’t get it to blend smoothly, and round it off. The layering looks like I gave the scissors to a mentally handicapped + visually impaired person for that part. I was beginning to think, I should have really brought him to a professional, when it happened.

A chunk of hair fell from where I had just cut his bangs. Right onto his half-melted popsicle. I tried to stop him, but it was too late. While I was trying to get the scissors off of my fingers he put the ice cream, hair and all, in his mouth. I’m screaming at A to get me a wet rag. I’m telling O to spit it out. O is frantically wiping at his mouth with his other hand that has hair on it already. I watch in horror as he starts gagging, yelling at A to now find O’s juice.

Never again folks. I don’t care if I have to fast for a week and take the money out of the food budget. Never again am I doing the at home haircut for O.