Category Archives: do-it-yourself

My Baby Had a Birthday

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

Poor, poor Kid E.  By the time he does anything we are so “been there, done that” that we just roll our eyes and sigh as we go through the motions.  This weekend was his fourth birthday.  We had a family party and invited his aunts, uncles and cousins.  Technically, I feel that most three-year-olds are too young to have any real friends.  I do not count the few kids who don’t bite them or hit them or steal the toys they are playing with to be “friends.”  I guess I could have invited some of his little preschool classmates, but he doesn’t even know their names.  He just calls them by the color of their shirts when he recounts the events of the day.

Quick aside… I actually thought that my kid was really racist when he first started doing this.  He would tell a story about “the black boy” or “the yellow girl” and I would be like, “What did you call them?”  But he would point at them and I would see that the boy was actually wearing a black t-shirt and the girl was in a pretty dress with yellow flowers all over it.  Whew.  I thought I really screwed up for a minute.  Nothing like thinking that your kid might be a sociopath.  Imaginary crisis averted!

So my sisters and their husbands (minus the one who needs to be in his man cave for the entirety of all Tennessee football games, bar none… we missed you/ are offended by that, B!) and their many, many children came over on Saturday afternoon to help us celebrate the four years that my youngest son has spent as a member of our crazy family.  We hung out, the older boys wrestled to the point that the house shook, ate some yummy food and we just generally caught up by spending time with one another.  But it is not a real family party until somebody cries.  Here’s how this one met the mark…

Sister B has not one, but two children who have peanut allergies.  One of them is severe – it can mean life or death to this child.  She has a prescription for an EpiPen and she leaves one in the school clinic (the “nurse’s office” for you old-schoolers) for an emergency situation that we all hope never occurs.  Our family is familiar with the fact that her kids can not be around nuts, and we plan accordingly when having a party.  It has taken some pre-planning, some reminding and a slight learning curve (Who would have thought that pretzels could be a no-no?  Snyders also makes peanut butter pretzels, so the disclaimer “processed on equipment that processes peanuts and tree nuts” is on their regular pretzels package.  If you have a nut allergy it is best to just say no.)  And even with several children in our group who will eat nothing but peanut butter sandwiches for two of the three main meals of the day (we have tried everything you can think of, and we continue to try periodically…) it can get dangerous.  And the discussions can get heated.  Here’s where this particular one went…

Sister B’s oldest son has the severe nut allergy.  He is in fourth grade in public school and according to their parents, so do many other children in the class.  So the teacher made the decision to ask that no one send in peanut-based foods in their lunches, snacks or treats.  Apparently this did not go over well and the passive-aggressive emails started circulating.  Sister B was up in arms about it.

We were trying to discuss with Sister B how you have to beware the slippery slope of telling people in the general public what they can and can not eat.  Although how can you weigh any argument (even convenience, cost or the fact that many elementary-age kids are particularly picky eaters) against “but my kid can die if he comes into contact with nuts?”  Even the notion that a great number of food intolerances are exaggerated into allergies (the CDC estimates that less than 4% of American children and 2% of American adults have true allergies, while the FAAN – The Food Allergy & Anaphylaxis Network – says the true numbers may be less than 1%) was conceded by Sister B when she found the data online.  Yet she kept going back to the fact that her son actually is severely allergic (with a doctor’s confirmation) to nuts and could have an anaphylactic reaction if exposed.

Then Kid C shared her story about a classmate I will call “Brian.”  Brian had an allergy to dairy and every time a child celebrated his or her birthday at school with treats for the class, Brian had to go to the clinic and get a special dairy-free cupcake that his mom had provided for him.  Kid C meant for the story to show that Brian was easily able to participate in the celebrations despite his allergy, but it just made Sister B even more sad about the whole situation.

“Poor Brian.  He has to go to the nurse’s office and eat his cupcake.”

“No,” Kid C clarified, “He just picked it up at the clinic, but he ate with us in the classroom.”

“Did the other kids in the class make fun of him for it?” we asked (gambling that the answer would be negative, so as to reassure our sister).

“No, it was just what he always did.” she answered.

“Oh, they might as well make him wear a t-shirt that says ‘I’m Different!’ said Sister B through her silent tears.

And that’s how you throw a great family party.

Happy Birthday Kid E!  I hope you liked your train cake.  I made it with love.  And gluten, but no nuts.

I wish my cousins didn’t have food allergies.  And I wish for a Nerf dart gun.

For more information on food allergies go to http://www.foodallergy.org.

Wish me luck for tomorrow…

Have You Heard About the Lonesome Loser?

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

Today was officially the first day of preschool for Kid E.  I have to say that it was kind of a letdown.  We didn’t make a big deal out of it last night.  We didn’t pick out a special first day of school outfit.  I almost forgot to take him in on time (and no, it was not because I was playing video games… smart asses) and I didn’t even stop to take his picture out front.  I already did that stuff three weeks ago when he went to camp.  He gave me a high-five then went into the room without so much as a glance in my direction.  So I just paid his tuition and went outside to my car.  It was then that I realized that I had my freedom back, at least for three and a half hours each Monday, Wednesday and Friday.  I got kind of tingly thinking about what I was going to do today.

As I was climbing into the driver’s seat I heard music pumping from the speakers outside of the pizzeria next door.

Sit down, take a look at yourself
Don’t you want to be somebody
Someday somebody’s gonna see inside
You have to face up, you can’t run and hide

Damn you, Little River Band.

I really do not like it when the universe smacks me on the head and demands that I pay attention.  But there was my message, coming at me on the voices of Australian rockers.  And I have learned that you either pay attention to these messages, or you’d better get ready for a fight that you will probably never, ever win.

So today I will make a plan.  Today I will set goals.  I will write them on paper and I will post them where I will see them every day.  And I will be productive and proud.

So actually I thank you, Little River Band.  And I think that’s Australian for “light a fire under your butt.”

For my easy-going friends

... and for my Type A peeps - Holla!

Wish me luck for tomorrow…

Keeping Up With the Kids – Feathered Hair

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

Hair plays a prominent role in my life.  I am constantly concerned with the concealment of the grey in my own hair, whether I should grow it long as Sheepdog would like or cut it all off for the sake of convenience (oh, how he hates that!), the removal of unwanted hair, whether or not Sheepdog is losing his, and unclogging drains that are filled with the long hair of the four females in this house.

In my short time as a blogger I have written about Kid E’s mohawk, Kid A’s hair looking like mine did in high school, boys’ lettuce hair, and my big Jersey girl hair in general.  It is not like I have a shallow obsession with hair – mine is usually pulled back in a boring ponytail every day – but stuff about hair just seems to come up.

So when Kid A was on Facebook the other day and she made the comment that one of her friends (the one who wants to be Kid F) got her hair feathered I thought, “Well, that’s an interesting choice.  But I guess even the 70’s styles are an improvement over the leggings and tunics and neon crap from the 80’s.  I mean, Madonna made cool videos and all but her hair was over-processed and frosted and ugly.  Charlie’s Angels were way more fashionable.”

As Kid A tells it, I then made a wind-blown whooshing/ flipping movement with my hands on both sides of my head and asked to see her picture.  I wanted to see what an updated feathered hairdo looked like.  Um, it was nothing like I thought.  Less Farrah Fawcett and Scott Baio; more Ke$ha and Steven Tyler.  Much, much more.

Feathered hair, then (belt buckles optional)

... and now (face glitter and talent optional)

Feathered hair now refers to putting actual feather extensions onto your own hair as a type of accessory.  Feathers can be straightened, curled, washed and blown dry.  You can go to a salon and have it done or you can DIY with glue or micro beads and clamps.

I also found out that what type of feather you use makes a big difference.  The best ones come from roosters, but salons are having a hard time keeping them in stock and many activists liken wearing these feathers to having an abortion or wearing real fur.  So, unless you wish to have someone potentially give you a red paint shower as you walk down the street, you should probably stick to the synthetic ones.

I think I’ll just stick to trying to stay one step ahead of my grey hair.  That’s enough to keep me busy for now.

Wish me luck for tomorrow…

Tales from the Trip – Part One

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

First things first… I realize that I forgot to make a Harry Potter reference in Friday’s post.  I will make up for that by doing two today.  My only excuse is that I have a horrible short-term memory.  Seriously, you could tell me something today and I might forget by tonight (unless it is good gossip).  I can re-watch movies and re-read books and I get excited about the endings because I have forgotten what they are.  I am just special that way. 

So I was all mixed up about what day it was from being on vacation and the trip back and I almost posted yesterday.  Then I remembered that there is no post on Sundays.  BAM!

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I survived packing day on Friday.  More importantly, everyone else survived the Master Packer and all the craziness that surrounds me.  My mother-in-law lovingly said I was actually more of a “Mother Packer,” which I thought was kind of sweet.  Either way… I got everything washed, gathered, packed and loaded just as a mega-storm bore down upon the eastern seaboard.

Rewind three hours.  Kid E decided to have a meltdown over nothing/ everything and no one but his Mommy could soothe him.  Unfortunately, my attention needed to be elsewhere.  So the background soundtrack for the Pack was a whiny and crying Kid E as a very sweet and helpful (although sadly ineffective) Kid B held him and tried to calm him down.  This as a news alert flashed across the television screen for a tornado warning in Atlantic County, which we get all the time in Georgia but they rarely see at the beach.  Next thing I realize, Kid D was crying inconsolably.  I went to him to see how I could shut him up calm him down and he explained through heaving chest and jagged sobs that “(he didn’t) want to die in a tornado.”   Me neither, pal.  So you gotta buck up and let mommy do her job.  I can barely do it with one kid’s screams echoing through the house, let alone two.  So, I refocus Kid D with a video game, reassure him that we will go down to the lower level of the house if a tornado does indeed come through and I plow ahead.

I had to load the truck in stages.  First, earlier in the day I attached the cargo roof bag and put all of the beach gear inside.  This had been done prior to the trip up by Sheepdog (who is at least five or even six inches taller than me – P.S. I think I am shrinking) and I had a hard time reaching the roof to put stuff in.  Sheepdog also had a helper (Kid A) and I was in the house taking care of the other kids.  I had no assistants (the girls were driving back from Hershey Park with my mom and dad), it was raining, and the boys yelled off of the deck that they “needed me for an emergency” about 14 times in a half-hour period.  But I got it done.  Check.

Then we had to load the way back of the truck with all of our stuff.  This took most of the day as I had to wash some stuff, direct the girls to pack their things, presume that Kid C would forget most of hers and compensate for that, pack all of the boys’ stuff and my own as well, plus all of the extras.  The storm started up again around dinnertime, so my dad suggested that I back the truck into the garage instead of loading it outside in a rainstorm.  I had to leave it sticking out about two feet so I would have room to attach the bike rack.  The rain kept coming and my dad started pacing in front of the truck because the crazy rain was coming down sideways (of course it was!) and all of his tools were getting wet.  He kept assuring me that it was “not a problem,” yet he was standing in front of the shelves trying to block the weather the entire time.  Then he hung up a towel.  And we still have Kid E throwing a tantrum-to-end-all-tantrums from above.  Awesome, right?  But I got it done.  And loaded.  And we didn’t have to leave anything behind (well, I almost had to leave Kid A’s guitar there – yes, she brought her guitar – but I was able to shift things around and make it all fit.  Check.

Those bikes did not stand a chance against my mad mexican wrestling skills

Finally I was putting the bike rack onto the trailer hitch.  But I couldn’t find the stupid effing cotter pin (it wasn’t actually an “effing” cotter pin until it started hiding from me, so once I found it in the glove box – smart planning on my part, right?  that’s how I compensate for the whole short-term memory loss thing –  the cotter pin and I became friends again).  I made my dad go upstairs because he was just stressing me out.  I wrestled (literally – at one point I was straddled on the bumper doing some Lucha libre moves in order to get the three bikes onto the rack).  But I got them on, strapped them in, and this job was done.  Check.

I was a sweaty mess.  My dad directed me as I backed the truck up so that he could shut the garage door for the night.  It fit by mere millimeters.  Good thing because I didn’t really want to leave the roof bag and the bikes out in a tornado and I don’t know if I could have watched while my dad nailed a tarp to the garage opening.  And trust me, this was surely his next step.

So I went in to diffuse Kid E’s meltdown (yes, he was still actively having one – he is quite tenacious), shower and go to bed.  I set the alarm for 3 a.m. and crashed.  Hard.

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I will continue with part two of this story in tomorrow’s post.  And, yes, I realize that I only included one Harry Potter reference today.  I got to writing and I forgot about it.  And I wasn’t about to rework the whole story.  Lesson of the Day:  If you drink too much in college you will forget stuff when you are old.

Dear Mom and Dad,

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

Sheepdog and I can’t thank you enough for letting us stay at your house while you are in Mexico.  We are having the best vacation family trip with the kids and we are so grateful to have such a fabulous place to stay while we are doing so many fun things in New Jersey.

We have been bringing taking great care of the house while you were gone too.  Sheepdog bought a new ceiling fan for the green guest room and he installed it the other day.  We are bringing in the mail every day and checking in with the builders on the front porch and landscaping projects as they progress.  It’s all good.

Please save us, Nanny Fabulous!

Except for your plants.  Despite my best efforts, they are not thriving.  I have managed to kill a few, and many of the rest go to the brink of death and then come back to life on a daily basis.  I have watered them every day like you said, plus I have been talking to them and visiting with them (mostly at the Point during cocktail hour), but I think they just miss you.  So come home soon.

Much Love,

Daughter A

“Sweet Pea” Weighs In on Home Repair

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

Through the miracle of technology, today’s post is being published in absentia. I am currently on the road (about 5 hours into a 14 hour trip) with Kids A-E, as we are heading to the beach for a few weeks. Sheepdog has graciously agreed to fill in for me, and while he may not be as quick-witted, he certainly is a lot less dimwitted. I am very grateful for his contribution and I certainly second the message that you can do a lot more than you think. Especially when you learn to delegate. Ta-da!

Also, I believe that doing your own work and home repairs will contribute to the de-pussification of Americans, which really needs to happen soon. Nobody does their own stuff anymore. Did you know that they had to add a fight class to basic training in our military because so many new recruits had never been punched in the nose up until that point in their lives? We need to toughen up, people! So start by fixing your own lawn mower. And there’s nothing wrong with a well-deserved punch in the nose.

P.S. Do not think about breaking into my house while I am on vacation. Sheepdog is home with all of the guns and he is always looking for an excuse to shoot someone. Plus, I think that absolutely everything we own is in this car with us right now. Seriously, these kids sure “need” a ton of stuff.

-Stacy

The people who came up with the whole Idiot Series really tapped into a huge market, didn't they?

HOME REPAIR: DON’T BE AFRAID TO FAIL by honorary guest writer, Sheepdog

In one of the recent posts, Stacy mentioned that I replaced our ailing dishwasher. Don’t be impressed – anyone can replace a dishwasher. Installing a dishwasher is a small job. There are only three connections: electricity, water and the drain. Stacy could have easily done it given a bit of notice and more time. I challenge and encourage everyone to try to do that next home – or auto – repair project on your own. You will probably learn lots and enjoy it more than you think.

I replaced the dishwasher because I hate waste and inefficiency and paying someone to do something I can do myself seems wasteful. Also, I wanted to make sure it was done right. I have had to redo several jobs I paid people to do incorrectly and/or inefficiently. Whenever I am looking at a project, the first thing I do is make sure I am not biting off more than I can chew. You can go online and quickly learn whether the job is beyond your ability. I analyze whether the task requires a technician or a craftsman. I can replace a dishwasher but finished carpentry requires a craftsman, an artist, and I don’t currently have the skills to do it correctly, or the time right now to learn them. But don’t underestimate yourself. Kid A recently helped me refinish our wooden front door and it turned out really nice – and I am proud every time I look at it. Err on the side of trying to do it yourself. Don’t be afraid to fail. Worst case scenario, you hire the person you were going to hire anyway.

I am lucky. I learned to fix things at an early age. I grew up in West Virginia. To say rural would be redundant. Things were pretty spread out. I spent lots of time on bikes, mini-bikes and motorcycles. These were fun but also important to get to the ball field or friends’ houses. We didn’t have lots of money and I was hard on equipment, so I had to learn to fix things or be stuck at home. I was also lucky to have a dad that encouraged me (sometimes forced would be more accurate) to help him work on his trucks and around the house. Some of my best childhood memories are of listening to Mountaineer football games on the radio with my dad while we changed the oil, did a grease job or a break job on one of his work trucks. These experiences gave me confidence to do other projects later.

Even if you didn’t grow up wrenching, it’s never too late to learn. When looking at a new project, I usually start on the internet. But it is tough to beat getting help from someone with experience, so ask your mom or dad or a friend for advice or to help. Head down to the local VFW, buy some guys some beers and then turn the discussion to your project. You will be amazed at how many guys would love to help. Just be prepared to be referred to as “Nancy,” “Sally,” or “Sweet Pea” all day. This is part of the fun and a little humble pie is good for all of us. If none of these are available or the options make you uncomfortable, the next time you hire someone, stay while they do the project. Watch and ask questions. Remember, you are paying them.

Once you have decided you are going to do a project and have some information, I suggest applying the following principles to all projects:

  1. Read the directions carefully – This is a habit I developed in engineering school and it applies to home projects too. I usually read directions at least three times: the first time to get acquainted with the subject matter, the second time I highlight and the third I take notes. I almost always supplement the directions with internet research.
  2. Prepare – Think the project through. I assemble all the tools and material I think I will need before I start. This should include things like buckets and towels if you are working on something with water (I always spill some water). Trust me, take the time to learn where all the shut off valves are located before you break the water line.
  3. Plan to fail – Plan enough time to complete the project without having to rush. Anticipate setbacks. Almost every project will have some kind of unanticipated obstacle. A good rule of thumb is that the project may cost double what you expect and take three times as long. This is true whether you are doing it yourself or paying someone.
  4. Relax, take your time and enjoy the process – If you are rushing you increase the likelihood that you will make mistakes and that you will not enjoy yourself. I used to rush through every project. It is a good way to mess up. I remember the time a friend and I replaced the clutch in my mid-80’s S-10 Chevy Blazer. We put the pressure plate in backwards. We figured this out at 10 p.m. and I needed the truck the next day. The four-hour job became a nine-hour job (we stopped to curse… a lot). We were more meticulous the second time. Take your time and the project will go faster – slow down to speed up.
  5. Retreat and call reinforcements if necessary – Ask for help if you get in over you head. No need to trash the equipment or your house. You can still hold your head high. You gave it a shot and you will definitely learn something when help arrives.
  6. Check your work – I test everything before buttoning it up. When I replaced the dishwasher, I left all of the trim off and ran a cycle to make sure nothing leaked before closing it all up. You will usually see problems right away if you made mistakes.

Don’t be afraid to fail. In my experience, too many people (me included) too often let fear keep them from doing things that would be enriching and enjoyable. WIth a little preparation you will be amazed at what you can do. Plus, experience is the best teacher. The more projects you do, the more you will learn and future projects will be easier and less intimidating. What you learn replacing the dishwasher will help you when the garbage disposal dies. You will enjoy the sense of accomplishment in a job well done. I almost always appreciate home improvements more when I do them myself than when I pay someone. The confidence you gain will carry over to other aspects of your life. These projects will help you to continue to learn and grow. So give it a shot and enjoy!