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Archive for the 'home time' Tag

Seasons come, seasons go

November 3rd, 2009, 5:33 pm by Michelle Reese

As a working mom, I’ve come full circle.

When my son was born, I returned to work six weeks later, full time. Eight months later, I left to freelance.

I became a part-time, working-at-home mom. I about pulled my hair out. I’ve never felt so stressed in my life.

Before that year was over, I returned to work - one day in the office and one day at home. My son was in preschool. My daughter was in my belly.

And so the cycle went after my daughter’s birth: I worked in the office a few days. I worked from home a few days. I eventually returned to full-time employment.

And now, in a few months, the cycle will start again.

As many of you have read here, the Tribune will close its doors Dec. 31.

Many people have asked about my plans: I don’t know. But seasons come and go, and apparently this season in my life is coming to a close.

I would like to devote more time to my son’s school, which doesn’t have classroom aides this year. I would like to write a children’s book.

I plan to blog - I’ll let you know when I can where that blog will be found - because I am a writer. It’s who I am. It’s what I do. And I love it - whether or not anyone is reading.

But for the next two months, I’ll continue to share my mommyhood with you. And I hope you find a little smile in reading it each day.

Crafty mom bug bites

September 30th, 2009, 2:30 pm by Michelle Reese

pumpkinsI had to pass these along. I found a few craft ideas on other mom blogs that may be tried in the Reese household during fall break. One idea I saw is creating butterfly or fairy wings. The other idea shows how to make cute-cute-cute toadstools. When we get ours done, I’ll  post photos.

Another blog I just found shows ideas with pumpkins - fake ones that is. I LOVE fall. That’s why my husband and I chose November for our wedding. That’s why each fall I try to run away with the kids to the Arizona mountains or to Indiana to see my grandparents. That’s why I will probably be making these adorable pumpkin topiaries sometime in the next month. Now, when will I have time to fit my scrapbooking in?

Parenting lessons from my pug

August 25th, 2009, 9:31 am by Michelle Reese
Jasmine the Pug

Jasmine the Pug

Sometimes my trials as a mom come from my dog, not my kids.
Last night was a brilliant example.
My husband and I crashed into bed late and I stuck my hand under my pillow, only to find a bone.
I gave it back to my nearly 9-year-old pug. She jumped off the bed and onto our laminate/wood floors.
Clickity, clickity, clickity…
We heard her nails hit the floor as she went to the loft to find a place to hide it again.
Clickity, clickity, clickity…
She left the loft and went to my son’s room.
Clickity, clickity, clickity…
She left the room and came back to our bedroom, then to the bathroom.
Clickity, clickity, clickity…
Nope, no good places there. She went back to the loft.
This went on for a good 10 minutes. My husband rolled over at one point and said, “Thanks. You couldn’t have just thrown it away?”
Me? I was laughing hysterically. I had tears running down my eyes. I could not control my snickers.
Clickity, clickity, clickity…
She went back to the bathroom. There, we heard her scratching at the TILE floor trying to “bury” it.
Finally, she jumped back in bed.
For two minutes.
Then she must have thought better of her “hiding” spot and got the bone.
Clickity, clickity, clickity…
It started again.
I was rolling by the end. So much for getting to sleep at a decent time.
Lesson learned? When it’s bedtime, don’t give the kid a toy.

What I want: Playtime and a carefree childhood for my kids

August 11th, 2009, 3:29 pm by Michelle Reese

My kids on a carefree day. ”I want to be a kid forever.”
“I want to be a grownup forever.”
Coming home from church on Sunday, something spurred these comments from my kids (I don’t remeber what!).
The first is from my 7-year-old son. He loves to play Legos, watch movies and challenge any friend to a Wii game.
The second came from my 4-year-old daughter. She loves to play dress up, says she’s going to be a “princess” when she grows up, and asks - no demands - lipstick and nail polish.
I laughed when I heard their comments, but I admit, they were not unexpected.
My son is a free thinker. He is very happy-go-lucky and go-with-the flow. I told his new teacher just as much in a letter, to be honest as somewhat of a warning.
My daughter, on the other hand, has to have everything in order. Her dress up clothes are in specific bins under her bed. She precisely picks out her outfit in the evening - then changes her mind in the morning.
Her friends are her whole world.
I hope I can scrapbook these comments and a bit about them sometime in the future - if only so they can look back and see what they thought life would be like for them.
I hope they both take on a bit of each other’s thinking: that my son would find there is value in hard work and hard play and that my daughter will find sometimes it’s fun to play a princess, even as a grown up.
I don’t schedule playtime. I try to let it happen. Sometimes that means - in our busy lives - that I pick up more of the load at home. They still have chores to do and we are active - with gymnastics right now and soccer coming in the fall - but I relish the moments when we come home at the end of the day, complete homework and just “be” before reading books and going to bed.
I’m looking forward to the cool evenings when all the neighborhood kids come out and join at the playground.
Lately, I’ve found myself trying to do whatever I can do to help them hold onto their childhood and make it as carefree as possible.

 

Dreaded weekend activity: Matching socks

April 28th, 2009, 9:37 am by Michelle Reese

Ok, I admit it. I hate, hate, HATE doing laundry. It’s not the putting it into the washer and dryer that I dislike. It’s the folding, putting away and organizing of piles for the various family members. In complete frustration I started putting socks - those I could not match up right away - into their own laundry basket and I put it in the corner of my bathroom.
Needless to say, after a couple of weeks, the basket was full. And family members were wearing mismatched socks to school/work/family functions/Easter parties.
On Sunday, I dragged my kids from their book reading/video games and announced a new GAME! We would match socks and whoever won, well, got a drawer full of matched socks.
We almost did it. In the end, I still have about 20 single socks without mates.
Anyone need some dust rags?

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