Month: October 2011

I’m pretty sure the happenings this week only happen to us, so I have titled this blog “Only the Doyle’s.” I’m going to back up 3 weeks ago. The big vans brakes began to squeak just ever so slightly so I told Scott.  In typical Scott fashion, not overly worried about such a minor thing he responds with a “yea,   we need to fix those.” One week goes by and the squeak is getting louder and louder so I remind him again, “my breaks are squeaking.” Again in typical Scott fashion he hears my complaint but doesn’t listen to my complaint and gets in no hurry to have them changed. Two weeks have now passed since initial “Squeaking” began and we happen to be on Mason road when I remind him yet again that I sound like nails on a chalk board each time I apply my breaks.  Now most of you have seen the Big Bertha (code name for Big White Utility Van) neither me nor the “cool” teenagers riding in that thing each day want anymore attention drawn to it that necessary. So we stop in at O’Reilly auto parts to purchase brake pads at which time my financial consultant husband proceeds to tell me HE will and can change the brake pads himself and I will be all good. GREAT, pads purchased squeaky noise on it’s way out the door… Oh not so soon,  Scott the mechanic is way to busy each subsequent day to change them and now I am grinding my way to a stop and the kids are on the floor board embarrassed that people are staring at us as a I smile and truck along explaining to them,  dad is sooooo busy and who cares what others think, we are so grateful to have a vehicle, you know the kids in Africa walk everywhere they need to go and we are so blessed to even be able to drive to McDonalds that who cares if the cashier has to remove his head set due to the ear piercing noise? Another week goes by and it dawns on me that maybe Scott is thinking if you buy the pads, place them strategically in between the seats on the floor of the van they will eventually figure out their purpose and take their rightful place, on my brakes!!!!   The sound is now very similar to the that of an airplane landing and it isn’t isolated to just me stopping this thing is even grinding when I’m not applying the brakes. Christian says to me, Mom, when all the workers in town who drive matching vans to yours start staring at you, you know your car is jacked up!” I gently remind Scott AGAIN! I also remind him that he is leaving this week for work out of town and I need to be able to actually stop the van once I get it going… And now the rest of the story:
9 PM Wednesday night, 3 weeks after squeaky noise appears, Scott aka mechanic makes an attempt to change brake pads.  Mom, aka doer of everything that makes sense, feeds kids, bathes kids, begs kids to finish homework, and convinces kids that staying up all night is NOT a good idea.
10 PM Mechanic Scott is working diligently on brakes with 4 helpers, yes 4 helpers, 2 of which need to be in bed but are holding flashlights for him to be able to see brakes in the dark. It only makes sense that one would wait until night to do this, right ?
11 PM brakes complete, and Scott decides to take van for test drive with new brakes.
11:05 PM Scott returns only to announce to those of us still awake the he changed the brake pads in the front, not the ones in the back that were actually squeaking!!!! Mom, Me, Wife, Mother, Doer of all things that make sense, driver of the van in question proceeds to ask the logical question here, “you changed the wrong brake pads? Did it not occur to you to ask the driver of the van where the squeaking was coming from?”   Mechanic Scott then proceeds to ask the 19 year old helper to Google bleeding the brake line…. Now you are possibly beginning to laugh at this and I want to make sure you have a clear visual of this event.  I am sitting in my chair rocking the baby, did I mention my head is spinning at this point somewhat similar to that of the exorcist ? Christian is “Googling” how to bleed a line, and Scott is standing in kitchen sweating profusely from the realization that he has no clue how to fix my car and he has to leave the house for his flight in 5 hours.  He then proceeds to inform me that the breaks work you just have to press them all the way to the floor because there is no pressure in them… Sounds like a problem to me!! Before my head, that is spinning comes flying completely off my body,  I decide it is best to call it a night and hope it’s all a bad dream in the morning.  Boy was I WRONG the worst was yet to come.
5 AM Mechanic Scott, In trouble Scott, Leaving for Vegas Scott wakes me to tell me that he has called a friend of ours that lives around the corner and he has agreed to let us borrow his extra vehicle which happens to be a mini van.  I gently remind him of how many people I have to tow around for the next 3 days because apparently he has lost count and we won’t fit in this mini van.  I then proceed to ask how we are going to actually get the mini van since he is leaving and it’s just me and Christian and a broke down big van.   I am then told that Christian is going to run over there and pick it up.  Did I mention I have an appointment at 8 AM and he is telling me that the 19 year old who sleeps until noon is going to get out of bed at 7 AM and run to our friends house to pick up the van… When I say run, he was meaning physically, literally, on good ole Pete and Joe run to our friends house several streets over to borrow the van.  I was in utter shock at this moment at his idea but had no choice in the matter .  I also needed a crash course at 5 am on how to install the base of the babies cars seat, so outside we go… Still dark by the way.  Scott leaves assuring me he will have a legit mechanic to the house asap to correct his mistakes.
7 AM roles around and lucky for Christian when I told our friend he was literally about to “run” over there he offers to come pick him up.  So all is good right? Well not so fast my friend, Scott showed me how to install the car seat with these hook straps, the mini van doesn’t have them so I am doing it the traditional way with the seat belt which takes more than two hands.  Please take a moment to visualize, I have a foot on the seat long strap of the seat belt holding it taut,   each hand is holding a side to the seat belt and the my left knee is in the base to hold it down. I am now sweating my behind off and my hair is frizzing by the second.  I finally get the base strapped in, run and grab the stroller out of Big van and open the back of mini van only to realize my buddy has “pimped” this ride to the max. There is a base (the radio kind)  in the back so no matter how hard I tried the stroller will NOT fit, I bring it around to the passenger side only to realize that if I just sit the stroller in the seat it will probably fall forward and shatter the tv in the head rest (there are 4 of these.)  I figure out how to hang the stroller off the seat to protect it from flying and I finally load the baby, but his seat isn’t clicking into place??? I have to move the driver seat up so it will sit properly in it’s base.  I  am finally in the driver seat,  my knees are hitting the dash board and I look like one of those little old ladies that has their chest securely against the steering wheel.  As I drive to my first destination all I can think about is how I want to ring my mechanics neck!!! Did it end there, of course not  We found a mechanic to bring the van to, they say they can have it ready in 1 hour.  Needless to say I brought it at 4:30,  driving it 20 miles an hour down Cinco Ranch Blvd. cars passing and cursing me.
6 PM they call to inform me that the $250 dollars I thought I was about to spend has now increased to $850 dollars. I refused to let them do anything without a second opinion from my personal mechanic.  He informs me that what they are saying is going to cost all that money is “NO BIG DEAL, and HE can fix that” OH GOOD LORD, not again.  I refuse the service and 4 hours later big Bertha was ready to come home.   As I drive away I think, “wow the silence is bliss” but don’t get too excited for me, that was short lived. Not only are they squeaking they are also smelling so we are now overstimulating 2 of our senses everytime we ride in Big Bertha, but never fear the mechanic flies home today and I am certain he will have a solution!!! LOL  Lastly,  if you hear me squeaking to a stop just pretend you don’t  just as I pretend I’m driving my old Mercedes!!! Only the Doyle’s!!!

NO…

I said a few weeks ago that I was going to share “Engine Light” moments as I experience them with my kids.  I wondered when the next Ah ha moment would come for me and just when I thought I was doing a good job, there it was, shining bright in my face.  Let me explain… As most of you know I am experiencing Jr. High for the first time with a daughter.  This is uncharted territory for me and drastically different from Jr. High with boys! Did I emphasize drastically? Our first born girl can be so emotional, so unsure, so critical of herself, such a pleaser and a rule follower. She is a perfectionist and has a heart so full of love for everyone.  If she disappoints you or upsets you, it just breaks her heart. She is funny and spontaneous, laughs at herself often and loves more than anything her friends and family. She can write with such description, just like as if she were standing there telling you a story, and when she tells you a story you better sit and stay a while because she will include every detail there is. On the other hand she would prefer to never multiply another set of numbers in her life.  She has never really been one to get upset if she and her friends didn’t agree, she often would blow it off and wait until the dust settled.  I have often marveled at how unaffected she was by “girl drama.”  I should have known that would change as she matured and as her and her friends hit puberty and their emotions took control of their minds.  Jr. High started and she was friends with several different groups of girls, something I encouraged fully.  The speech I would give is, be nice to everyone, don’t talk about anyone, if there are people who aren’t nice, be friendly to them but you don’t have to be their best friend. As this year has progressed, she has experienced changes in friends.  Girls she thought were her “real” friends have changed their minds and are spending more time with others.  People she thought would welcome her at the lunch table have had days when they just didn’t have enough room. There have been days when “friends” wouldn’t allow her to sit on the bus with them.  Is she devastated, no, she is strong beyond belief! I would have crumbled at that age.  She moves on and spends time with other girls that are nicer.  BUT, she does come home and tell me all about every incident that happens. I try to listen but I am finding myself reacting more.  I begin to give advice and tell her what to say and how to handle it only to realize that she isn’t mature enough to speak those words and these girls aren’t mature enough to change the way they are behaving. We have all been there! Here is where my engine light blinded me yesterday. As she shared with me more of what had happened with this group of girls, I immediately began to react. It is only natural for me especially when I feel she is being hurt and when my heart hurts for her.  Once again I am advising and just so unbelievably frustrated with the whole situation.  I don’t understand why she cares, I can’t imagine that the same little girls who begged for a ride from me the week before are being so cruel and I don’t understand why she can’t just ignore all of it…I suddenly realize, she isn’t me. She truly hates the thought of someone being mad at her, she especially hates the thought of me being mad at her and my reacting is looking just like that mad at HER.  I stopped listening, which is honestly all she needed. She needed to vent, she didn’t need a lecture she didn’t need my opinion, or my ridiculous reaction.  The words that slapped me right in the face where these….”if something bad happens mom, I’m not going to tell you anymore because you are just going to get mad!” OUCH, something bad happening to my beautiful daughter? Not telling me about it, because you don’t want my reaction? Double OUCH!!! Then it hit me, my Engine Light was flashing red and warning me with the words of an 11 year old girl, I need to Listen not React… She will be faced with so many more dramatic days, plenty of people who like her and dislike her, friends and eventually boys who will break her heart and the last thing I want to happen is for her to not trust coming to me.  So with that said, and with knowing how quickly I want to advise her, I need to support her, love her, pray for her and most importantly LISTEN to her.  Oddly enough she will probably work through it herself and that process will be even better knowing I am supporting her, and here for her at all times no matter what.  Is it hard, YES!! I would like to take any and all drama out of her life and all of my kids lives but unfortunately it’s a part of life and a part of growing, maturing and becoming the person God intends them to be. She is blessed with such a variety of friends and that’s the ones we need to stay focused on! As my dad used to tell me all of the time, “this too shall pass.” So this afternoon when she comes in I will have the duct tape ready to go and I will use it on myself if I begin to revert back to reactor and not listener.  Do you do the same thing ? If you have any suggestions, I would love to hear them! Leave a comment if you have any advice, I am ALWAYS open!

There are days that I am certain I can conquer the world and others that I am certain the world is going to swallow me up while laughing a creepy little horror movie laugh with a baby crying in the background for added effect. O.K. so that was a bit extreme, but maybe it’s the cool air with Halloween drawing near that has me thinking so “Spooky.”  At the beginning of the school year when the extracurricular schedules kicked in full throttle we realized that Tuesdays were the only days all week, including Sundays that we had NO practices, NO dance, NO appointments, NOTHING!!! Scott and I decided that due to our complete lack of time every other day of the week we needed to savor our Tuesdays and really try to use these as family down time.  I decided that on Tuesdays I would cook a big meal, we would eat as a family and just relax for one night during the week.   All has gone pretty smoothly until about 2PM today…. All I wanted was roux, the weekly menu said Gumbo, the cool air says gumbo so Gumbo it is.  We had just left the doctor where Hamilton received his first round of shots then lunch with Grandparents.  All I had to do was run in grab the ingredients, head home and get dinner on the stove.  But no, why would I have thought buying ingredients for gumbo would be so easy?? OH I don’t know maybe because this is Katy and 75% of the people here are from some part of Louisiana why in the world would the local Wal-Mart decide that roux should be pulled from the shelves????  Yes, you read that right… No roux. If you have no clue what this is, it is the base for the entire gumbo, without it you don’t have gumbo.  No worries, it’s Tuesday, and today is do nothing day so Scott can grab it on his way home.  Back at home, still stewing over the fact that I made a trip to Wal-Mart only to leave there still $50 poorer and without what I need, Hamilton starts to fuss.  One of the kids starts talking about how they had a bad day at school with friends, Harrison comes to me not feeling well, John Scott calls and says the coach wants him to stay for the 8th grade games and Scott calls with an unexpected evening appointment.  Did I mention it was “Parents Time to Learn” at the elementary school???? Immediately the world began to swallow me, I felt completely useless and I couldn’t seem to get it all together, to make it all happen.  My frustration level elevated and quickly I wanted to reenter Jr High and tell all those mean girls what they can do with themselves, I wanted the Motrin to take the pain away from both of my babies that weren’t feeling well, I wanted to call the 8th grade coach and ask him why he chose my son TONIGHT, and I wanted to call Scott’s clients and tell them that I was pretty sure they could have picked another night to steal my husband!!! Yep, Losing it!!! I grabbed my fussing 8 week old held him close, closed my eyes and took about a 30 minute cat nap…After waking, I called a great friend, told her I just didn’t think I could make it to the Parent thing tonight and asked for another idea for dinner.  Immediately I realized I can’t do it all, and I needed to tame my coo coo crazy expectations of myself.  I happened to have all of the ingredients for the same dinner my friend was cooking so dinner was done, The Motrin had both baby boys more settled, and I emailed the teachers and told them I couldn’t be there to please let me know if there is something I needed to know.  Frustrated to Tamed = MUCH happier Momma !!! What’s my point you might ask besides venting? Sometimes when the world is starting to swallow you up, and your responsibilities seem too much, find something to help diffuse you.  A nap, a call to a friend, a walk, anything that will help you re prioritize your responsibilities and expectations of yourself.
The evening worked out just fine,  we still had our down time and we held true to our Tame Tuesdays!!!