It’s not the end of May unless we skid across the finish line battered, bruised, scraped up, sick as dogs, hopped up on antibiotics, chewed up, spit out, worn out and with a few embers glowing and smoking from our asses.
This May has been no different.
Oh, what a month this has been. QUITE a month, if I do say so myself. Granted, it would be busy without all the other, um, stuff that’s been going on, but truly, we have been running with flames flying out of our asses since the beginning of the month. And while I’m glad that it’s coming to a close, a part of me knows that this is the end of a chapter as well.
So, what have we been up to? Let’s see, 4 participation days in school, 4 field trips (2 missed because of illness), 2 bike days, 4 soccer games, 4 school meetings, grade 1 registration, a garage sale, gardening, 3 days of birthday celebration, the best birthday party ever, attendance at another birthday party, 1 random fever, 14 days of illness, another fever, strep, a round of antibiotics, house guests, house guests who end up in the hospital for 3 days, 2 epic photo books and now a kindergarten graduation on the horizon.
So, let’s break it down. School is almost done and in a way, thank GOD for that. It’s the biggest source of craziness right now with last minute field trips, celebrations and preparations. But at the same time… SNIFF! School is almost done! This is Mouse’s last year at this school before she moves onto big, public grade 1 in August. We LOVE our preschool and kindergarten and all of us have friends associated with it. It’s a bit sad when summer comes and we know we won’t see our friends daily. And it’s a place of change for me too. I’ll be moving from being “just a parent” and serving on the board, which has been a big thing for me, to being a parent and a TEACHER. For which I’m not prepared at all. I’ve also been making photo books for both girls’ teachers, a job I offer to do every year and lament every year because they are a pain in the butt. But, I know they will be worth the effort. I felt the same way last year – with photo books, school ending and the like.
The sickness. Oh, the sickness. Mouse started getting sick 2 weeks ago with a cold, which then turned into something else. Then Baboo had some weird random fever that lasted a day. Then I got sick with strep and now Mouse is even sicker and we’re both on antibiotics. Last year at this time Mouse was very sick with a stomach bug and just barely made it to school on the last day. She’s already missed 5 days of school just this month!
Hubster’s folks arrived to help us celebrate Mouse’s 6th birthday last Thursday. They arrived to a somewhat sick Mouse, me on the verge of losing my voice and getting strep, bike day and birthday celebrations at school for Mouse. Then I got strep and they had to take over our spot for the community garage sale, watch Mouse’s last soccer game (best birthday ever – she got a trophy!), and then I sucked it up and took the girls to another birthday party. We went for dinner for Mouse which we think lead to Hubster’s Dad ending up in the hospital for the last 3 days with a very serious case of gastroenteritis… but more on that later.
Sunday, after a few doses of antibiotics, I was supposedly no longer contagious and could move on to the big honkin’ birthday party for Mouse. It was fun… and over the top as I’m wont to do because geez, they only get 1 birthday a year – let’s make it MEMORABLE! I made the cake, planned the “great rescue of Queen Rainbow Flower’s treasure” and generally entertained 12 little girls for 2 hours with the help of Hubster's parents and the parents who stayed, croaking like a frog the whole time. However, it was very cool and Mouse loved every minute.
Monday Hubster rushed his Dad to the emergency room and after a few days of worry and not really knowing anything definitive – with discussions of exploratory surgery and the like, he finally seems to be improving.
Yesterday Mouse woke up in tears and it took me 1.5 hours to figure out that she was actually feverish and I suspected strep. Turns out it’s not strep but some secondary infection due to being sick so long and now she’s sporting 103 fever and gagging on antibiotics/Tylenol every few hours. Her kindergarten graduation is Friday and I’m just praying she’s well enough to go, though I may just drag her there anyway. Today she’s missing out on a cool train ride field trip and we’re all just bummed about it.
A part of me feels responsible for all of this. Hubster said that I’m not “happy” unless I’m moving through the end of the school year at a frantic pace. Well, I wouldn’t say that I was “happy” about it. Even without the extras that have happened, May would be a crazy month. There wasn’t a whole lot I could say “no” to. It is what it is and unfortunately, none of us here respond well to be dragged around at 150 mph. Our tempers, patience, energy and immunity are all a bit worse for wear.
My motto the whole month has been “just make it to May 29”. A friend recently asked me what was happening on May 29 and I looked at her emphatically and said “Nothing, absolutely NOTHING. And that’s the point.”
I know that next year, I’m going to have to find a way to be better prepared for May, because as much as I’d like to say that it won’t be as bad, and as much as Hubster would like to just skip the whole month altogether, it’s just going to be a crazy time. My only hopes for the here and now are that: father is law is well soon, the weather is good for the pool opening this weekend and the kids will be happy with my intention to have absolutely nothing planned for next week. I know it won’t last beyond that, but I sure hope we can at least get a week to catch our collective breath.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Sears Really Does Care
So, I did realize that I had something somewhat worth noting to write about.
Just after I posted my complaint about my dying washer, I received an email from a Sears Care rep apologizing for my crappy service and asking me to contact them to discuss any options for helping to make this right. Initially, I figured it was a scam and ignored it. Then I got another email, and decided to search on the internet to see if it was real. I couldn’t find anything, so I emailed back and said “Listen, I’m not sure you’re a real person and I’m not giving you my personal information, so give me a number to call you.”
Very promptly, as in less than a day later, I get an email seemingly from a real person with a real phone number. I pondered on this again for a few days and decide to call. Strangely enough, I get a real person right away and it really is the Sears Service department.
They apologized for the crummy service and offered to refund some of my money and offered me a discount on a new machine.
Now, the old machine is still working and we’ve decided that until it dies we will just live with it. I hesitate to say that it hasn’t gotten any worse, but it’s still running and that’s ok with us.
They were quick, pleasant and I received my refund prompty and did try to work things out. I appreciate that kind of effort.
So, thank you Sears Cares.
Just after I posted my complaint about my dying washer, I received an email from a Sears Care rep apologizing for my crappy service and asking me to contact them to discuss any options for helping to make this right. Initially, I figured it was a scam and ignored it. Then I got another email, and decided to search on the internet to see if it was real. I couldn’t find anything, so I emailed back and said “Listen, I’m not sure you’re a real person and I’m not giving you my personal information, so give me a number to call you.”
Very promptly, as in less than a day later, I get an email seemingly from a real person with a real phone number. I pondered on this again for a few days and decide to call. Strangely enough, I get a real person right away and it really is the Sears Service department.
They apologized for the crummy service and offered to refund some of my money and offered me a discount on a new machine.
Now, the old machine is still working and we’ve decided that until it dies we will just live with it. I hesitate to say that it hasn’t gotten any worse, but it’s still running and that’s ok with us.
They were quick, pleasant and I received my refund prompty and did try to work things out. I appreciate that kind of effort.
So, thank you Sears Cares.
Monday, April 26, 2010
More Funnies From the Kids
As I seem incapable of finding time to write anything useful these days, allow me to further record funny things said by my children:
Driving in the car to school:
Mouse: Mom, I’m going to be in Grade 1 after I’m done in Kindergarten, right?
Me: Yup. In August, you’ll start at your new school in Grade 1.
Baboo: I’m going to Grade 1 too!
Mouse: No, Baboo, you’re going to be in Polliwogs with Mommy next year.
Baboo: Mom! You hear that!? I’m going to be a Probly-wog!
At the dinner table last night:
Hubster and I are talking about something relatively mundane when Baboo interrupts and states, rather loudly:
Baboo: Cowboys wear BOOTS!
Mouse: Yup.
Baboo: BIG boots.
Mouse: And cowgirls wear high heels.
Driving in the car to school:
Mouse: Mom, I’m going to be in Grade 1 after I’m done in Kindergarten, right?
Me: Yup. In August, you’ll start at your new school in Grade 1.
Baboo: I’m going to Grade 1 too!
Mouse: No, Baboo, you’re going to be in Polliwogs with Mommy next year.
Baboo: Mom! You hear that!? I’m going to be a Probly-wog!
At the dinner table last night:
Hubster and I are talking about something relatively mundane when Baboo interrupts and states, rather loudly:
Baboo: Cowboys wear BOOTS!
Mouse: Yup.
Baboo: BIG boots.
Mouse: And cowgirls wear high heels.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Another Day, Another Tantrum
I’m frazzled. I’m worn out. I’m cranky. I’m getting near the end of my rope.
Hubster’s been working late for the last few weeks, I’m up to my eyeballs in school commitments, I’m trying to get the garden/yard pulled together as much as I can with a borked shoulder (I did something to it last week that makes pushing, lifting and breathing painful), running errands and dealing with some long, long days with the girls. And I want to get started on planning for my teaching job in the fall, but frankly I have no time or energy to squeeze it in.
The topper to this craziness is that every single day this week someone has had a tantrum. Not little tantrums, but full blow out, kicking and screaming, clawing and crying tantrums. Every. Single. Day.
Yesterday, despite being warned of severe time limits, Mouse decided to make a picture for a friend before school. When her ride arrived, running a bit late, I had to drag her kicking and screaming, pry her hands off the door jamb to get her in the car. The whole neighborhood got an earful at 8:30 am.
Today, her tantrum was multifaceted. It was about piano and stickers and hair and the fact that I am a horrible, awful mother who has absolutely NOTHING better to do other than be MEAN to her. She’s almost 6. I can’t *wait* until she’s in her teens. Save me.
And if Mouse hasn’t been waxing poetic in tantrum form, Baboo has been sure to fill in the gaps. Getting dressed, crackers, milk, sand… if you can think of it, we’ve had a tantrum about it.
Good times here.
I just wish I rebounded as quickly as they seem to. Generally, after they’ve got it out of their systems and I’ve tried NOT to explode or put them on the street with a sign that says “Free to a Good Home”, they’re fine. They’re looking to be forgiven and move on as though some tantrum switch has been flicked. It’s harder for me not to seethe for a while and feel more than wrung out for hours afterward. I do hug them, let them know I still love them even if we’re mad at each other, but sometimes it’s through gritted teeth. Granted, right now, I’m definitely not handling these outbursts as well as I could and I’m hard on myself for it. I’m yelling back and throwing up my hands and saying “I don’t care” as I walk away too much. All very tantrum- like. Showing up one tantrum for another. Very mature, I know. I know it’s not the best way to handle these power struggles but I’m to just feeling too fried to be proactive. And that must stop.
I’m hoping that things cool off, though I feel like I’ve been saying that for months now. For now though, I’d settle for a nap. A nice long, QUIET, kid free nap.
Hubster’s been working late for the last few weeks, I’m up to my eyeballs in school commitments, I’m trying to get the garden/yard pulled together as much as I can with a borked shoulder (I did something to it last week that makes pushing, lifting and breathing painful), running errands and dealing with some long, long days with the girls. And I want to get started on planning for my teaching job in the fall, but frankly I have no time or energy to squeeze it in.
The topper to this craziness is that every single day this week someone has had a tantrum. Not little tantrums, but full blow out, kicking and screaming, clawing and crying tantrums. Every. Single. Day.
Yesterday, despite being warned of severe time limits, Mouse decided to make a picture for a friend before school. When her ride arrived, running a bit late, I had to drag her kicking and screaming, pry her hands off the door jamb to get her in the car. The whole neighborhood got an earful at 8:30 am.
Today, her tantrum was multifaceted. It was about piano and stickers and hair and the fact that I am a horrible, awful mother who has absolutely NOTHING better to do other than be MEAN to her. She’s almost 6. I can’t *wait* until she’s in her teens. Save me.
And if Mouse hasn’t been waxing poetic in tantrum form, Baboo has been sure to fill in the gaps. Getting dressed, crackers, milk, sand… if you can think of it, we’ve had a tantrum about it.
Good times here.
I just wish I rebounded as quickly as they seem to. Generally, after they’ve got it out of their systems and I’ve tried NOT to explode or put them on the street with a sign that says “Free to a Good Home”, they’re fine. They’re looking to be forgiven and move on as though some tantrum switch has been flicked. It’s harder for me not to seethe for a while and feel more than wrung out for hours afterward. I do hug them, let them know I still love them even if we’re mad at each other, but sometimes it’s through gritted teeth. Granted, right now, I’m definitely not handling these outbursts as well as I could and I’m hard on myself for it. I’m yelling back and throwing up my hands and saying “I don’t care” as I walk away too much. All very tantrum- like. Showing up one tantrum for another. Very mature, I know. I know it’s not the best way to handle these power struggles but I’m to just feeling too fried to be proactive. And that must stop.
I’m hoping that things cool off, though I feel like I’ve been saying that for months now. For now though, I’d settle for a nap. A nice long, QUIET, kid free nap.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Big News
So that big news I was cranking about last night? The news that made me overreact to Baboo pooping in the pool, (though really, that was gross)?
Well, I heard last night about 10.
I've got a job. Yup. Me. ME!
I’m going to be a preschool teacher at my daughters’ cooperative school. I decided, after a lot of thought and encouragement from friends to apply back at the end of February. A good friend helped me edit and reedit my resume and kicked me in the pants several times to knock the copious amounts of negative self talk out of my head. Hubster also kicked me in the pants several times, but maybe that was just for fun. (kidding). He was so incredibly supportive and is always my biggest champion. I was happy with my submission but figured it would stop there.
I was the first person to get called for an interview and the first interviewee. I left feeling like a total moron and figured it would get left there.
Insert a month of waiting, and last night I finally got a call. Just as I was getting ready to shut everything down and just go to bed already, the call came in. And my heart is still pounding.
I love our school, love our teachers, love our philosophy, and love our members. They embrace whole families and this will give me an opportunity to work and sacrifice very little of the time I need to be with my family. Its’ 2 mornings a week and I certainly won’t be getting rich, but it’s a little something and who couldn’t use that right now? This is a place where I feel like I belong and when this job opportunity opened up, I felt like this is where I’m supposed to go. Apparently, the universe agrees.
I’ve got a whole lot to learn and some big shoes to fill, but I’m clearing out my mind and getting ready to absorb as much information as I can. Guess I’d better get to work. And by that, immediately, anyway, I’d better go and unload the dishwasher, get the girls up and tidy up as I have a Pilates class this morning. Haha.
Well, I heard last night about 10.
I've got a job. Yup. Me. ME!
I’m going to be a preschool teacher at my daughters’ cooperative school. I decided, after a lot of thought and encouragement from friends to apply back at the end of February. A good friend helped me edit and reedit my resume and kicked me in the pants several times to knock the copious amounts of negative self talk out of my head. Hubster also kicked me in the pants several times, but maybe that was just for fun. (kidding). He was so incredibly supportive and is always my biggest champion. I was happy with my submission but figured it would stop there.
I was the first person to get called for an interview and the first interviewee. I left feeling like a total moron and figured it would get left there.
Insert a month of waiting, and last night I finally got a call. Just as I was getting ready to shut everything down and just go to bed already, the call came in. And my heart is still pounding.
I love our school, love our teachers, love our philosophy, and love our members. They embrace whole families and this will give me an opportunity to work and sacrifice very little of the time I need to be with my family. Its’ 2 mornings a week and I certainly won’t be getting rich, but it’s a little something and who couldn’t use that right now? This is a place where I feel like I belong and when this job opportunity opened up, I felt like this is where I’m supposed to go. Apparently, the universe agrees.
I’ve got a whole lot to learn and some big shoes to fill, but I’m clearing out my mind and getting ready to absorb as much information as I can. Guess I’d better get to work. And by that, immediately, anyway, I’d better go and unload the dishwasher, get the girls up and tidy up as I have a Pilates class this morning. Haha.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Dear Local YMCA
Oh my. To say that I’m mad doesn’t quite cut it, though I think that it’s mostly the fact that I didn’t sleep well last night, Hubster is working late, Baboo has eaten almost nothing all day again which frustrated me beyond reason, Mouse has been clinging and whining all day and am waiting for some news tonight that’s kind of stressing me out. I did not need this today. And so, yes, I was more than likely less, though marginally so, understanding than I would be on any other day.
To say that I’m embarrassed is also not quite right. Mortified is probably more appropriate.
My kid is the one who pooped in the pool requiring the evacuation of 30-odd people, who raced to the showers in horror after realizing they had been swimming in poop. My child’s poop. I was the mother with the beet red face, dragging her child across the deck, kicking and screaming, snot streaming down her face, praying that the ground would open up and swallow us whole.
Just a few minutes after the girls' swim class started (and the girls take the class with a neighbor friend as well, so yeah, nice) Mouse said “Hey! What’s that brown stuff in the pool?”, and I watched the instructor figure out that it was indeed poop, call the lifeguard to clear the pool. As the girls climbed out of the pool, I realized with a sinking feeling that it was likely Baboo. Sure enough, there it was.
I ran immediately to her and said “Did you poop in the pool?!” which she denied completely despite me pointing it out in her bathing suit.
Baboo has been potty trained for a year now. I can’t even remember the last time we had a poop accident. I thought about swim diapers when the girls started this round of swim lessons, but figured that she’d be ok as she so rarely has accidents. Normally, I wouldn’t care overly much, but when a number of other people are affected drastically and I witness the dirty looks (warranted, I agree) we got as we left the Y, this time I do care. I don’t expect my children to be perfect, but I also don’t want them to think that this is ok. We’ve got a long summer pool season ahead of us and I’d like to nip this in the bud now.
And I feel negligent for not insisting that she wear a diaper for a while longer as she is only 3, regardless of the fact that I thought she'd be fine. I feel like I look like the ‘bad’ or indulgent or careless parent for not putting my little one in a diaper. I feel like I wasn’t following the “rules”, though I know that any child could have an accident at any age. Really, almost any kid “should “ wear a diaper. Maybe she was tired, maybe I wasn’t watching closely enough to catch her before it was too late, but regardless, it’s done and now I have to just feel like, ha, crap for a while and then get over it.
Let me tell ya, bedtime can’t come soon enough tonight.
*edited to add: I did calm down and yes, crap happens. Baboo and I talked last night about how this is not a good thing to do and why. Calmly, without my face flaming. And this morning, I'm done beating myself up over this. I was more upset with myself than I was with Baboo. Swim diapers are definitely on the grocery list though.
To say that I’m embarrassed is also not quite right. Mortified is probably more appropriate.
My kid is the one who pooped in the pool requiring the evacuation of 30-odd people, who raced to the showers in horror after realizing they had been swimming in poop. My child’s poop. I was the mother with the beet red face, dragging her child across the deck, kicking and screaming, snot streaming down her face, praying that the ground would open up and swallow us whole.
Just a few minutes after the girls' swim class started (and the girls take the class with a neighbor friend as well, so yeah, nice) Mouse said “Hey! What’s that brown stuff in the pool?”, and I watched the instructor figure out that it was indeed poop, call the lifeguard to clear the pool. As the girls climbed out of the pool, I realized with a sinking feeling that it was likely Baboo. Sure enough, there it was.
I ran immediately to her and said “Did you poop in the pool?!” which she denied completely despite me pointing it out in her bathing suit.
Baboo has been potty trained for a year now. I can’t even remember the last time we had a poop accident. I thought about swim diapers when the girls started this round of swim lessons, but figured that she’d be ok as she so rarely has accidents. Normally, I wouldn’t care overly much, but when a number of other people are affected drastically and I witness the dirty looks (warranted, I agree) we got as we left the Y, this time I do care. I don’t expect my children to be perfect, but I also don’t want them to think that this is ok. We’ve got a long summer pool season ahead of us and I’d like to nip this in the bud now.
And I feel negligent for not insisting that she wear a diaper for a while longer as she is only 3, regardless of the fact that I thought she'd be fine. I feel like I look like the ‘bad’ or indulgent or careless parent for not putting my little one in a diaper. I feel like I wasn’t following the “rules”, though I know that any child could have an accident at any age. Really, almost any kid “should “ wear a diaper. Maybe she was tired, maybe I wasn’t watching closely enough to catch her before it was too late, but regardless, it’s done and now I have to just feel like, ha, crap for a while and then get over it.
Let me tell ya, bedtime can’t come soon enough tonight.
*edited to add: I did calm down and yes, crap happens. Baboo and I talked last night about how this is not a good thing to do and why. Calmly, without my face flaming. And this morning, I'm done beating myself up over this. I was more upset with myself than I was with Baboo. Swim diapers are definitely on the grocery list though.
Friday, April 2, 2010
You Know You're Old When...
It’s 80 F, 6:30 pm, the girls are swinging in the backyard after dinner…
Mouse: Mom, I’m 5 and how much again?
Me: 5 and ¾.
Mouse: Oh yeah! And pretty soon I’ll be 6. Will I celebrate my birthday at school when I’m in first grade?
Me: I don’t know.
Mouse: That’s cos you don’t REMEMBER because it was so LONG ago! How old are you again and when did you go to first grade.?
Me: Uh, I’m 35 and it’s been almost 30 years since I was in first grade. Things have changed a lot since I was in first grade.
Mouse: Yeah! That’s a very, very, very long time ago. There aren’t any dinosaurs around any more now.
Me: I think it’s time to go in and get ready for a bath now… (good grief!)
Mouse: Mom, I’m 5 and how much again?
Me: 5 and ¾.
Mouse: Oh yeah! And pretty soon I’ll be 6. Will I celebrate my birthday at school when I’m in first grade?
Me: I don’t know.
Mouse: That’s cos you don’t REMEMBER because it was so LONG ago! How old are you again and when did you go to first grade.?
Me: Uh, I’m 35 and it’s been almost 30 years since I was in first grade. Things have changed a lot since I was in first grade.
Mouse: Yeah! That’s a very, very, very long time ago. There aren’t any dinosaurs around any more now.
Me: I think it’s time to go in and get ready for a bath now… (good grief!)
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Paps and Shells
So, here we are on day 2 of spring break. We’ve just spent a lovely spring morning with some friends at the local zoo. The week isn’t turning out to be as quiet as I’d hoped, but life is certainly moving at a slower pace. It’s nice not to be rushing out the door every morning and fighting over clothes, hair, food, chores before 8 am.
Yesterday, the girls and I spent most of the morning in our pajamas before donning our rain boots to slog around in our very soggy and muddy yard – playing in the cool sunshine and puddles, hanging last years’ plastic Easter eggs on our apple tree in the front yard and dreaming of getting the garden in in a few weeks.
Yesterday afternoon, Baboo and I had appointments for our annual checkups. I couldn’t really find anyone to watch Mouse during this time that wouldn’t be kind of a pain to organize, so I brought her with us. Both Baboo and I were weighed, measured and asked to don paper gowns. Mine did not have cute little teddy bears on it and kept gaping at the bust. Classy.
Baboo went first, getting the full scope of a 3 year well visit including a much worried about shot. It’s hard to feel like I have any shred of dignity discussing my daughter while wearing a gaping paper gown.
Then it was my turn. I hoped that the girls would be “busy” with their lollipops, Dora bandaids and coloring books so I could discuss more grown up health issues – though surprisingly, regardless of your age, you still have to talk about poop and pee.
So then it was time for the PAP. We tried not to make a big deal out of it and had the girls move up towards my head so as not to be in right in line of sight of all that business down there. It’s not that we’re overly modest in our family or have not discussed bodies and functions and names, but really that’s a lot of reality for a 5 and 3 year old. A pelvic exam and PAP are never comfortable, and at one point I did say “ouch” which worried Mouse a lot. When she saw the speculum and the doctor basically buried to her elbow, her eyes grew to the size of saucers as she figured out what was going on and unconsciously and protectively she lowered her hands. I assured her when I was done, that I was fine, and that it’s a part of staying healthy and that one day, when she was GROWN up she’d need to have this done too. She asked how old I was and said she’d wait until she was 35 before starting any of that. I laughed out loud. I wish that were true!
I got my script for a mammogram, a tetanus shot, orders to lose a bit of weight, take vitamin D and fish oil and was sent on my merry way. As I was taking off my gown and gathering my clothes, Baboo reached over to pass me my bra saying loudly, “Mommy, don’t forget to put your shells back on”.
Yesterday, the girls and I spent most of the morning in our pajamas before donning our rain boots to slog around in our very soggy and muddy yard – playing in the cool sunshine and puddles, hanging last years’ plastic Easter eggs on our apple tree in the front yard and dreaming of getting the garden in in a few weeks.
Yesterday afternoon, Baboo and I had appointments for our annual checkups. I couldn’t really find anyone to watch Mouse during this time that wouldn’t be kind of a pain to organize, so I brought her with us. Both Baboo and I were weighed, measured and asked to don paper gowns. Mine did not have cute little teddy bears on it and kept gaping at the bust. Classy.
Baboo went first, getting the full scope of a 3 year well visit including a much worried about shot. It’s hard to feel like I have any shred of dignity discussing my daughter while wearing a gaping paper gown.
Then it was my turn. I hoped that the girls would be “busy” with their lollipops, Dora bandaids and coloring books so I could discuss more grown up health issues – though surprisingly, regardless of your age, you still have to talk about poop and pee.
So then it was time for the PAP. We tried not to make a big deal out of it and had the girls move up towards my head so as not to be in right in line of sight of all that business down there. It’s not that we’re overly modest in our family or have not discussed bodies and functions and names, but really that’s a lot of reality for a 5 and 3 year old. A pelvic exam and PAP are never comfortable, and at one point I did say “ouch” which worried Mouse a lot. When she saw the speculum and the doctor basically buried to her elbow, her eyes grew to the size of saucers as she figured out what was going on and unconsciously and protectively she lowered her hands. I assured her when I was done, that I was fine, and that it’s a part of staying healthy and that one day, when she was GROWN up she’d need to have this done too. She asked how old I was and said she’d wait until she was 35 before starting any of that. I laughed out loud. I wish that were true!
I got my script for a mammogram, a tetanus shot, orders to lose a bit of weight, take vitamin D and fish oil and was sent on my merry way. As I was taking off my gown and gathering my clothes, Baboo reached over to pass me my bra saying loudly, “Mommy, don’t forget to put your shells back on”.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tis The Season
It’s that time of year; temperatures are rising, birds are singing, plants are starting to grow and I start checking out my summer clothes. And so, while the world comes alive with all sorts of springy loveliness, I’m sulky and whiney.
Every year, I quickly realize that the clothes I so carefully put away last fall are in worse shape than I remember. The pants/capris are faded and I notice stains that I didn’t see last year. The shirts are sweat and sunscreen stained (does that ever come out? Seriously. Gross.) and more than a little grubby around the edges. And maybe more than a few years old.
The other day, I was getting dressed to teach a Pilates class, looked in the mirror and thought “Yikes. This is looking a little rough!” The knees of my pants were very faded, a little saggy around the butt and the shirts were pilling and droopy. I realized that I’d been wearing the same pants for um, 6 years and shirts for just over 2 and they were very sad.
And so, it begins. The spring hunt for clothes; a vicious battle involving a short, curvy, (hourglass some say) somewhat heavy than before nearing middle age woman and a fashion industry that assumes all petites are 85 with very, very long torsos, thick waists, no hips and even shorter legs than I have now. Though, good luck finding a well stocked petite section at any store. The stock and choice in the stores is diminishing and it’s hard not to feel abandoned, as though being petite is not important enough to warrant floor space.
The shirts are too long, and those are supposed to be the “petites”. Most of the pants gape at the waist while make my thighs look like a sausage in a casing. Oh, and then there’s the flood factor of the pants not quite reaching the top of my shoes. But if they’re not too short, they’re dragging on the ground.
And who designed the lighting and mirrors in those change rooms? Some kind of twisted circus hell bent on making grown women cry at the sight of all those fleshy dimples on their ass? I think so.
I’m not asking for much. Decent clothes that are not too hard on my budget. I’m not overly trendy or fashionable, but I don’t want to go out looking like a schlep either. Yeah, I could go to a tailor, but well, who has time or money for that? And oh yes, I love the higher end stores; Ann Taylor Loft makes me swoon, but well, I’m a stay at home Mom who is hard on her clothes, especially in the summer, so I have a reallllly hard time justifying $25 for a t-shirt. It’ll stain and fade just as fast as a $10 one.
However, since I can’t really walk around naked this spring and summer, (there’s not enough in the therapy budget for that!) I will continue to scope out the stores, ever hopeful that I’ll find a winning rack of pants that fit and shirts that don’t hit my knees and be able to put together an outfit or 2 that won’t make me feel like blue hair rinse and orthopedic sandals are requuired to make it complete.
Wish me luck.
Every year, I quickly realize that the clothes I so carefully put away last fall are in worse shape than I remember. The pants/capris are faded and I notice stains that I didn’t see last year. The shirts are sweat and sunscreen stained (does that ever come out? Seriously. Gross.) and more than a little grubby around the edges. And maybe more than a few years old.
The other day, I was getting dressed to teach a Pilates class, looked in the mirror and thought “Yikes. This is looking a little rough!” The knees of my pants were very faded, a little saggy around the butt and the shirts were pilling and droopy. I realized that I’d been wearing the same pants for um, 6 years and shirts for just over 2 and they were very sad.
And so, it begins. The spring hunt for clothes; a vicious battle involving a short, curvy, (hourglass some say) somewhat heavy than before nearing middle age woman and a fashion industry that assumes all petites are 85 with very, very long torsos, thick waists, no hips and even shorter legs than I have now. Though, good luck finding a well stocked petite section at any store. The stock and choice in the stores is diminishing and it’s hard not to feel abandoned, as though being petite is not important enough to warrant floor space.
The shirts are too long, and those are supposed to be the “petites”. Most of the pants gape at the waist while make my thighs look like a sausage in a casing. Oh, and then there’s the flood factor of the pants not quite reaching the top of my shoes. But if they’re not too short, they’re dragging on the ground.
And who designed the lighting and mirrors in those change rooms? Some kind of twisted circus hell bent on making grown women cry at the sight of all those fleshy dimples on their ass? I think so.
I’m not asking for much. Decent clothes that are not too hard on my budget. I’m not overly trendy or fashionable, but I don’t want to go out looking like a schlep either. Yeah, I could go to a tailor, but well, who has time or money for that? And oh yes, I love the higher end stores; Ann Taylor Loft makes me swoon, but well, I’m a stay at home Mom who is hard on her clothes, especially in the summer, so I have a reallllly hard time justifying $25 for a t-shirt. It’ll stain and fade just as fast as a $10 one.
However, since I can’t really walk around naked this spring and summer, (there’s not enough in the therapy budget for that!) I will continue to scope out the stores, ever hopeful that I’ll find a winning rack of pants that fit and shirts that don’t hit my knees and be able to put together an outfit or 2 that won’t make me feel like blue hair rinse and orthopedic sandals are requuired to make it complete.
Wish me luck.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Another Run By Posting
Oh, poor neglected blog. You are so at the bottom of my priority list right now. Or, at least if there was a list, you’d be at the bottom. Right now I’m just flapping around rushing frantically from one desperately neglected item to the next. Ahead of you has been: 2 huge school functions, a 3 yr old birthday party, house guests, cleaning, grocery shopping, school, doctor appointments, swimming lessons… yada-yada-yada. You get the idea.
However, that’s not to say that some great and weird things haven’t been happening and if I could blog via telepathy, they’d ALLLLL be documented. But they’re not. And because I’m seriously lacking in the sleep department, my memory is the size of a dried up pea.
So, Baboo turned 3 recently and she shares her birthday with my best friend’s (Becprints) daughter H. I know, what are the chances of that? I said it outloud when I was pregnant with Baboo as in “Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if this baby was born on H’s birthday “ And it happened. True story. Anyway, we had a rockin’ kitty cat bash this year as it was the “year of the cat” at our house. The kids came, devoured cat shaped sandwiches and jell-o jigglers, cat cupcakes, ran around with cat masks on meowing, smashed “cat chow” (rainbow Cheerios) into the carpet and had an awesome time. Hubster’s parents and his cousin (who I secretly refer to as the sister I ALWAYS wanted) drove down to share the weekend with us and we all enjoyed the company and extra help.
And all that said, I can’t believe my “baby” is 3 and proudly telling me “Mama! You don’t need to come into the baf-woom wif me because I’m FWEE and ALL GROWED UP now!”. Ok, then.
In other awesome news, after much angst and nashing of teeth, Mouse was invited to attend an awesome elementary school in our district. I’m BEYOND excited about it. We got the letter on Saturday – after I gave up hope of it coming, and I literally was dancing around the kitchen. Mouse looked at me with some kind of shocked horror because this really wasn’t what she pictured for grade 1.
And then it hit me that she’ll be going into grade 1. In a few months. Good grief. But at least she’ll be at an awesome school and Baboo is automatically grandfathered in and so I don’t have to freak out about the next level until Mouse reaches grade 5.
In my last post I posted about the washer and it’s possible imminent death. So far it’s still running and we’ll continue to just let it do it’s thing for as long as we can keep it going. It really seems to be ok now, but we’ll assume that that may not last. Sears Cares apparently has sent me an email to try to “increase my satisfaction with their service” but I’m in the process of checking to see if it’s a scam or not.
And despite things being increasingly hectic, (what happened to a slow January/February? Seriously? It’s been CRAZY around here lately) spring break is around the corner and we have NO plans other than sitting around in our pajamas and doing basically nothing. Ok, that’s not really true. We have a few small appointments and we’ll squeeze in some fun but we will not be running around at breakneck speed until we all want to just hurt someone. At least I hope not.
However, that’s not to say that some great and weird things haven’t been happening and if I could blog via telepathy, they’d ALLLLL be documented. But they’re not. And because I’m seriously lacking in the sleep department, my memory is the size of a dried up pea.
So, Baboo turned 3 recently and she shares her birthday with my best friend’s (Becprints) daughter H. I know, what are the chances of that? I said it outloud when I was pregnant with Baboo as in “Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if this baby was born on H’s birthday “ And it happened. True story. Anyway, we had a rockin’ kitty cat bash this year as it was the “year of the cat” at our house. The kids came, devoured cat shaped sandwiches and jell-o jigglers, cat cupcakes, ran around with cat masks on meowing, smashed “cat chow” (rainbow Cheerios) into the carpet and had an awesome time. Hubster’s parents and his cousin (who I secretly refer to as the sister I ALWAYS wanted) drove down to share the weekend with us and we all enjoyed the company and extra help.
And all that said, I can’t believe my “baby” is 3 and proudly telling me “Mama! You don’t need to come into the baf-woom wif me because I’m FWEE and ALL GROWED UP now!”. Ok, then.
In other awesome news, after much angst and nashing of teeth, Mouse was invited to attend an awesome elementary school in our district. I’m BEYOND excited about it. We got the letter on Saturday – after I gave up hope of it coming, and I literally was dancing around the kitchen. Mouse looked at me with some kind of shocked horror because this really wasn’t what she pictured for grade 1.
And then it hit me that she’ll be going into grade 1. In a few months. Good grief. But at least she’ll be at an awesome school and Baboo is automatically grandfathered in and so I don’t have to freak out about the next level until Mouse reaches grade 5.
In my last post I posted about the washer and it’s possible imminent death. So far it’s still running and we’ll continue to just let it do it’s thing for as long as we can keep it going. It really seems to be ok now, but we’ll assume that that may not last. Sears Cares apparently has sent me an email to try to “increase my satisfaction with their service” but I’m in the process of checking to see if it’s a scam or not.
And despite things being increasingly hectic, (what happened to a slow January/February? Seriously? It’s been CRAZY around here lately) spring break is around the corner and we have NO plans other than sitting around in our pajamas and doing basically nothing. Ok, that’s not really true. We have a few small appointments and we’ll squeeze in some fun but we will not be running around at breakneck speed until we all want to just hurt someone. At least I hope not.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Appliance Purgatory
Today, Sears visited us again, for a whopping $130, excuse me $129 but who’s freaking counting to tell us that our washing machine is dying. Oh and when they were here in January, the visit only cost $109, so they've jacked the price $20. Thanks Sears! Grrr. We “could” replace the parts, but it would almost as much as a new washer. And Mr. Blue Crew “I’ve been doing this since Moses” did nothing other than say if we didn’t have a family of four with two of us being young children who generate mountains of laundry, our appliance choice (front loader, not enormous sized) would have been appropriate, but he’s surprised it’s lasted this long.
Funny, the damned sales people didn’t tell us that when we bought it. Hmph.
Now, it’s not like this is a new machine, it’s about 5 years old and it’s been a workhorse. Lots of clothes, diapers, bedding, towels have found their cleanliness in its’ sudsy tub. It’s done well, but really, only 5 years? And that’s GOOD? What the heck?
And $129 bucks to tell me it’s dying. Really, that’s all he did other than turn on the rinse cycle for 3 minutes. RIP. OFF.
If it seems like I’m a bit overly sensitive, that’s because I am. It seems like we’ve had a lot of appliance angst lately, like our recent oven issue, and the lest we forget the microwave. But that’s not all, oh no! We had to replace our electric kettle recently because our old one didn’t turn off one night, and while thankfully it didn’t burn down the house, it boiled dry and then nearly melted. Yeah, scary. We replaced it with a stainless steel one that sounds like a freaking jet engine when it’s on. I was on the phone one day with my Mum and turned the kettle on, and she asked a train was going by. True story. Nice.
And we also recently bought a new toaster oven and coffee maker. Both Black and Decker and mounted under the counter. In the past these have been our favorites and expected no less this time. Well, they’re just over a year old and the toaster oven only cooks at one end and hope you like it SUPER toasty – as in burnt. B&D also took out a few of my favorite features from previous models – like the pull out crumb tray (they’ve got a drop down pan and guess where the crumbs go? Allll over the counter. Argh!) and the little hook thing on the door to pull out the rack so you don’t burn your hand getting your toast out. Why? Why did they remove these useful gadgets?
The coffee maker has leaked from day one, takes a while and the little rubber thing that allows the pause feature to work is already broken off the basket. Sucky. And it’s a pain to clean.
To say the least, I’m not thrilled to be budgeting to buy a new washer sometime in the next year … IF I’m lucky, apparently, it’ll probably be sooner than that. I’m told to just let it run until either the whole thing breaks or the noise gets to be so bad I can’t stand it. Apparently, they just dont' make them as good as they used to. And it's really, really true. However, I guess that's how they keep making $129/house call.
Funny, the damned sales people didn’t tell us that when we bought it. Hmph.
Now, it’s not like this is a new machine, it’s about 5 years old and it’s been a workhorse. Lots of clothes, diapers, bedding, towels have found their cleanliness in its’ sudsy tub. It’s done well, but really, only 5 years? And that’s GOOD? What the heck?
And $129 bucks to tell me it’s dying. Really, that’s all he did other than turn on the rinse cycle for 3 minutes. RIP. OFF.
If it seems like I’m a bit overly sensitive, that’s because I am. It seems like we’ve had a lot of appliance angst lately, like our recent oven issue, and the lest we forget the microwave. But that’s not all, oh no! We had to replace our electric kettle recently because our old one didn’t turn off one night, and while thankfully it didn’t burn down the house, it boiled dry and then nearly melted. Yeah, scary. We replaced it with a stainless steel one that sounds like a freaking jet engine when it’s on. I was on the phone one day with my Mum and turned the kettle on, and she asked a train was going by. True story. Nice.
And we also recently bought a new toaster oven and coffee maker. Both Black and Decker and mounted under the counter. In the past these have been our favorites and expected no less this time. Well, they’re just over a year old and the toaster oven only cooks at one end and hope you like it SUPER toasty – as in burnt. B&D also took out a few of my favorite features from previous models – like the pull out crumb tray (they’ve got a drop down pan and guess where the crumbs go? Allll over the counter. Argh!) and the little hook thing on the door to pull out the rack so you don’t burn your hand getting your toast out. Why? Why did they remove these useful gadgets?
The coffee maker has leaked from day one, takes a while and the little rubber thing that allows the pause feature to work is already broken off the basket. Sucky. And it’s a pain to clean.
To say the least, I’m not thrilled to be budgeting to buy a new washer sometime in the next year … IF I’m lucky, apparently, it’ll probably be sooner than that. I’m told to just let it run until either the whole thing breaks or the noise gets to be so bad I can’t stand it. Apparently, they just dont' make them as good as they used to. And it's really, really true. However, I guess that's how they keep making $129/house call.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Just Take the Alligator
I tell ya, this kid is totally cracking me up these days, and while YOU may be sick of the Baboo anectodes, I’m writing them down so I don’t forget them. (and it’s my blog, so nah,nah,nah,nah,nahhhh)
Yesterday, while waiting for the tire to be fixed on the car, we, Hubster, the girls and I were wandering around a local enormous sporting goods store, looking for soccer gear for Mouse. As Mouse was trying on some cleats (and she looks so freaking adorable in her shorts and cleats) Baboo kept trying to get Hubster’s attention.
Baboo: Daddy! DADDY! Look!
Hubster: (looking through mountains of boxes of cleats trying to find some small enough for Mouse, distractedly)… Yes, Baboo.
Baboo: DADDY! LOOK AT THE ALLIGATOR!
Hubster: (still distractedly) Um, I don’t think there are any alligators here.
Baboo: YES THERE IS! RIGHT THERE! (pointing dramatically and vaguely)
Hubster: (finally paying attention, looking around) Well, I don’t see any alligators, Baboo. Do you see a picture somewhere of an alligator?
Baboo: (sighing dramatically) DA-DDY. It’s RIGHT there? See? You go up? Can we go and ride on the alligator?
Hubster: (blinking in shock and confusion – then the light goes on): OOOOH! You mean the ESCALATOR!
Baboo: That’s what I said! The alligator. The big stairs! Can we ride on them?
Hubster: (trying not to laugh) Once we’re done with the shoes, we’ll go over there.
Baboo: (jumping up and down like she’s won the lottery) YAY! I can finally ride on an ALLIGATOR!!
Yesterday, while waiting for the tire to be fixed on the car, we, Hubster, the girls and I were wandering around a local enormous sporting goods store, looking for soccer gear for Mouse. As Mouse was trying on some cleats (and she looks so freaking adorable in her shorts and cleats) Baboo kept trying to get Hubster’s attention.
Baboo: Daddy! DADDY! Look!
Hubster: (looking through mountains of boxes of cleats trying to find some small enough for Mouse, distractedly)… Yes, Baboo.
Baboo: DADDY! LOOK AT THE ALLIGATOR!
Hubster: (still distractedly) Um, I don’t think there are any alligators here.
Baboo: YES THERE IS! RIGHT THERE! (pointing dramatically and vaguely)
Hubster: (finally paying attention, looking around) Well, I don’t see any alligators, Baboo. Do you see a picture somewhere of an alligator?
Baboo: (sighing dramatically) DA-DDY. It’s RIGHT there? See? You go up? Can we go and ride on the alligator?
Hubster: (blinking in shock and confusion – then the light goes on): OOOOH! You mean the ESCALATOR!
Baboo: That’s what I said! The alligator. The big stairs! Can we ride on them?
Hubster: (trying not to laugh) Once we’re done with the shoes, we’ll go over there.
Baboo: (jumping up and down like she’s won the lottery) YAY! I can finally ride on an ALLIGATOR!!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
18.
Today, you would have turned 18. I can’t even fathom you at that age.
Tall? Likely. Elegant? Maybe. Same smart witty personality? God, I hope so.
I can’t imagine talking about university, dating and career paths, but that’s likely what we’d be doing. In my mind, you grow up beautifully, with few bumps in the road, happy and successful. In my heart, you’re always 11, a little girl on the verge of growing up, with the soul of a saint and huge brown eyes filled with wisdom beyond your years.
Regardless of the past or future, you’re missed. And still loved so very much.
Happy 18th birthday, M.
A Birthday.
Turning a Blind Eye.
Tall? Likely. Elegant? Maybe. Same smart witty personality? God, I hope so.
I can’t imagine talking about university, dating and career paths, but that’s likely what we’d be doing. In my mind, you grow up beautifully, with few bumps in the road, happy and successful. In my heart, you’re always 11, a little girl on the verge of growing up, with the soul of a saint and huge brown eyes filled with wisdom beyond your years.
Regardless of the past or future, you’re missed. And still loved so very much.
Happy 18th birthday, M.
A Birthday.
Turning a Blind Eye.
Friday, February 26, 2010
TGIF...(Today we Got an Idiotic Flat)
Oh, it’s been a long couple of days. Mouse is better, thankfully, and even more thankfully, no one else got sick. Hor-ray.
We’re all still a little worn out though, frazzled around the edges, droopy and ready for a rest. Today is Friday and we’ve all been looking forward to the weekend. Mouse had piano a lesson right after school (it went pretty well despite practicing only twice this week) and though we did think about going to the library, we all elected to just go home and chill out. I was looking forward to a sitting and reading my book and having a nice hot cup of coffee when, BAM! We rounded a corner, hit one of those massive winter potholes and totally blew a tire. *insert expletive here*.
FORTUNATELY, we have AAA because I’m all girly ‘n stuff and though I probably could change the tire, I didn’t want to. The whole service experience rocked and we were outta the parking lot we were waiting in in there in less than half an hour. Worth every penny!
As we were waiting for the service guy to come, I unbuckled the girls and they climbed into the front seat and we goofed around and ate crackers and looked at library books. At one point, Baboo was trying to wink. She kept trying to close just one eye, but just couldn’t get it figured out. Mouse said “Baboo! You need to close just ONE eye. Why can’t you do that?” and Baboo replied, emphatically “I don’t KNOW! I think it’s out of batteries!”
It was the right note to keep the day light hearted, and we laughed about as we drove home on our banana yellow spare tire.
We’re all still a little worn out though, frazzled around the edges, droopy and ready for a rest. Today is Friday and we’ve all been looking forward to the weekend. Mouse had piano a lesson right after school (it went pretty well despite practicing only twice this week) and though we did think about going to the library, we all elected to just go home and chill out. I was looking forward to a sitting and reading my book and having a nice hot cup of coffee when, BAM! We rounded a corner, hit one of those massive winter potholes and totally blew a tire. *insert expletive here*.
FORTUNATELY, we have AAA because I’m all girly ‘n stuff and though I probably could change the tire, I didn’t want to. The whole service experience rocked and we were outta the parking lot we were waiting in in there in less than half an hour. Worth every penny!
As we were waiting for the service guy to come, I unbuckled the girls and they climbed into the front seat and we goofed around and ate crackers and looked at library books. At one point, Baboo was trying to wink. She kept trying to close just one eye, but just couldn’t get it figured out. Mouse said “Baboo! You need to close just ONE eye. Why can’t you do that?” and Baboo replied, emphatically “I don’t KNOW! I think it’s out of batteries!”
It was the right note to keep the day light hearted, and we laughed about as we drove home on our banana yellow spare tire.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Pedaling in Flippers
Ever get the feeling that you’re pedaling in flippers? Well, maybe that’s because you are.
It’s been that kind of day here. Mouse had stomach bug last night and so it was a long night as I was up with her every hour until this morning. I guess that 2 other girls from her class were also sick last night. And of course, I was in Mouse’s class yesterday as a participating parent.
Things settled down for Mouse by this morning, but she was definitely wrung out for the rest of the day as were the rest of us who got little sleep. So we all spent most of the day lounging around and taking it easy. So far, I’m doing ok other than feeling a bit queasy, but that could just be from lack of sleep.
Baboo is fine, and I wonder if she’s more resistant to the stomach bugs as she got the rota virus vaccine. Regardless, she slept just fine last night and as much fun as it was to have a popsicle at breakfast and watch hours of tv like poor Mouse, she eventually got bored.
I had an errand to run, so I took her out to the grocery store while Hubster and Mouse rested. That killed about an hour. When we got back she was antsy and the rest of us were fried. She generally plays well by herself and today she was a trooper. While the 3 of us barely stayed awake on the couch, she played and chatted by herself for quite a long time. When she came around the corner into the kitchen riding her tricycle in swim flippers, I just had to summon the energy to get off my butt and find the camera.
It’s been that kind of day here. Mouse had stomach bug last night and so it was a long night as I was up with her every hour until this morning. I guess that 2 other girls from her class were also sick last night. And of course, I was in Mouse’s class yesterday as a participating parent.
Things settled down for Mouse by this morning, but she was definitely wrung out for the rest of the day as were the rest of us who got little sleep. So we all spent most of the day lounging around and taking it easy. So far, I’m doing ok other than feeling a bit queasy, but that could just be from lack of sleep.
Baboo is fine, and I wonder if she’s more resistant to the stomach bugs as she got the rota virus vaccine. Regardless, she slept just fine last night and as much fun as it was to have a popsicle at breakfast and watch hours of tv like poor Mouse, she eventually got bored.
I had an errand to run, so I took her out to the grocery store while Hubster and Mouse rested. That killed about an hour. When we got back she was antsy and the rest of us were fried. She generally plays well by herself and today she was a trooper. While the 3 of us barely stayed awake on the couch, she played and chatted by herself for quite a long time. When she came around the corner into the kitchen riding her tricycle in swim flippers, I just had to summon the energy to get off my butt and find the camera.
Today felt exactly like we were all pedaling in flippers.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Piano Torture
(*Warning! Vent ahead!)
Mouse has been taking piano lessons once a week with a wonderful teacher since September. Initially she started out fine. Willing to learn, bursting with confidence, loving every class and being excited to practice. She was learning quickly and I knew she would.
However, since around Christmas time, things have changed. Yes, the music has gotten a bit harder, but not extremely so. Mouse now second guesses every single note, even the ones she KNOWS. She plays the “dumb girl” (which I hate saying – but it’s true). She’s tilts her head to the side, raises her shoulders and says with her best Valley Girl voice “Oh. Um, I um, think that um, that it’s, um… an um… D??” She wants me to say “yes, that’s right” to every single note she plays. However, she WILL NOT allow me to use my finger to help her follow the music on the page. She screams at me in that 5-going-on-13 voice that she can do it herself! Practice has become a form of torture for both of us. I end up beyond frustrated and nearly furious. She ends up miserable. It’s not a good place to be.
We talked over Christmas break and I asked her if she really LIKED piano lessons or if she was just taking lessons because she thought that’s what I wanted her to do and she adamantly said she loved them. When I suggested that we take a break from classes and start them again next year when she was a bit older, I was met with an enormous tantrum and a storm of tears. I explained that learning to read music and play the piano wasn’t something she could just go to class once a week and learn. She needed to practice in between lessons, daily in fact, even if just a little bit. I try to get her to practice for just 5 minutes a day and we both end up nearly in tears.
We’ve tried practicing at different times of the day, but to be honest, we both dread the 5-15 minutes and I think we avoid it, even unintentionally at times and so some weeks she only practices once or twice. But it embarrasses me when we go to her lessons and she’s barely practiced. I feel like a bad Mom for not encouraging her better. But Mouse doesn’t care and generally does fine at her lesson.
She’s 5, almost 6 and I know she’s young. But she’s smart. And I’m torn. I hate seeing a self-depreciating behavior in her already. When I see her doing the “dumb girl” act it’s all I can do not to yell “You are SMART and you can DO this!”, but I know that won’t help to build her confidence.
I see myself in her right now and it makes me sad and mad. I want her to feel confident enough to take a risk and learn something new, to practice and try at ANYTHING even if she doesn’t get it perfect. I want her to be more than I was; to be brave enough to ALLOW herself to have more opportunities and take chances. I don’t want her to miss out because she’s too self conscious to try, too embarrassed to make mistakes, like I was and to a much lesser degree still am.
It’s very important to me that the girls learn how to read music. I don’t care what instrument they play, but I think learning to read music is a very important skill. I’m worried that I’m trying to start her too early and am squashing any genuine desire she might have to do this. We chose piano because we had one and we could find a teacher that she really liked, and well, she seemed interested in learning.
I’ve spoken with her teacher quite a bit about this and she feels like Mouse is doing well and to not be worried. She can tell that she’s bright and is catching on, and that Mouse adores her. Mrs. H is awesome apparently.
But I hate feeling mean and walking away from her practices feeling like I need a drink because I’m so worked up. I hate feeling like I’m just making matters worse. I hate that she looks so sad when we’re done because it’s like she’s failed to “please me”. I want her to have fun and to enjoy learning but I know it’s not something I can force.
I guess I need to think some more about this and decide what to do. Sigh.
Mouse has been taking piano lessons once a week with a wonderful teacher since September. Initially she started out fine. Willing to learn, bursting with confidence, loving every class and being excited to practice. She was learning quickly and I knew she would.
However, since around Christmas time, things have changed. Yes, the music has gotten a bit harder, but not extremely so. Mouse now second guesses every single note, even the ones she KNOWS. She plays the “dumb girl” (which I hate saying – but it’s true). She’s tilts her head to the side, raises her shoulders and says with her best Valley Girl voice “Oh. Um, I um, think that um, that it’s, um… an um… D??” She wants me to say “yes, that’s right” to every single note she plays. However, she WILL NOT allow me to use my finger to help her follow the music on the page. She screams at me in that 5-going-on-13 voice that she can do it herself! Practice has become a form of torture for both of us. I end up beyond frustrated and nearly furious. She ends up miserable. It’s not a good place to be.
We talked over Christmas break and I asked her if she really LIKED piano lessons or if she was just taking lessons because she thought that’s what I wanted her to do and she adamantly said she loved them. When I suggested that we take a break from classes and start them again next year when she was a bit older, I was met with an enormous tantrum and a storm of tears. I explained that learning to read music and play the piano wasn’t something she could just go to class once a week and learn. She needed to practice in between lessons, daily in fact, even if just a little bit. I try to get her to practice for just 5 minutes a day and we both end up nearly in tears.
We’ve tried practicing at different times of the day, but to be honest, we both dread the 5-15 minutes and I think we avoid it, even unintentionally at times and so some weeks she only practices once or twice. But it embarrasses me when we go to her lessons and she’s barely practiced. I feel like a bad Mom for not encouraging her better. But Mouse doesn’t care and generally does fine at her lesson.
She’s 5, almost 6 and I know she’s young. But she’s smart. And I’m torn. I hate seeing a self-depreciating behavior in her already. When I see her doing the “dumb girl” act it’s all I can do not to yell “You are SMART and you can DO this!”, but I know that won’t help to build her confidence.
I see myself in her right now and it makes me sad and mad. I want her to feel confident enough to take a risk and learn something new, to practice and try at ANYTHING even if she doesn’t get it perfect. I want her to be more than I was; to be brave enough to ALLOW herself to have more opportunities and take chances. I don’t want her to miss out because she’s too self conscious to try, too embarrassed to make mistakes, like I was and to a much lesser degree still am.
It’s very important to me that the girls learn how to read music. I don’t care what instrument they play, but I think learning to read music is a very important skill. I’m worried that I’m trying to start her too early and am squashing any genuine desire she might have to do this. We chose piano because we had one and we could find a teacher that she really liked, and well, she seemed interested in learning.
I’ve spoken with her teacher quite a bit about this and she feels like Mouse is doing well and to not be worried. She can tell that she’s bright and is catching on, and that Mouse adores her. Mrs. H is awesome apparently.
But I hate feeling mean and walking away from her practices feeling like I need a drink because I’m so worked up. I hate feeling like I’m just making matters worse. I hate that she looks so sad when we’re done because it’s like she’s failed to “please me”. I want her to have fun and to enjoy learning but I know it’s not something I can force.
I guess I need to think some more about this and decide what to do. Sigh.
Friday, February 12, 2010
From the Mouth of Baboo...
I’m swamped and treading water like crazy trying to keep up with life these days. Too busy livin’ and runnin’ to write. Sorry. However, while Mouse has been going through some weird 5.5 year old tantrum transitions (good grief), Baboo who will be 3next month is cracking me up with the things she’s saying.
Baboo is fascinated with trying to write her letters right now. She recognizes them all, which surprises me as she learned them without me really doing anything. And I remember at this age, Mouse being driven to figure out the mechanics of writing as well, so we’re going with it. The other day, Baboo brought out a little notepad and some crayons and said it was time to work on her “letter-bet”.
This morning as I was brushing Baboo’s hair, she looked down at her hands and noticed some silver craft sparkles on them.
Baboo: Mom! Look at my hands. Theres’ some SPARKLES on dem!
Me: Wow. Look at that. Pretty!
Baboo: I don’t want to wash my hands. They’re soooo “blinky”.
Today, after school, piano, traffic, Valentine’s day parties, elementary school shopping, Literacy night planning, Pilates classes, yada-yada, the girls and I were feeling kind of run down and decided to have an afternoon on the couch. Mouse was very cuddly and seems to need that kind of thing right now, and Baboo wasn’t going to be left out, so we just cuddled and watched some tv and read a mountain of books. It was very nice. After a while, the wigglies moved in and the girls started to get silly. They started smooshing my face around (and I remember doing the same to my mother) with their hands to make me make silly faces. At one point, I took my glasses off so they wouldn’t get broken and was holding them in my hands. Baboo, tried to grab them and yelled, “HEY! It’s MY TURN with the glasses! I want to look weird too!” I’m still not sure how to take that.
To my in Eastcoastville… stay warm! Doubley yikes on all the snow you guys have gotten!
Baboo is fascinated with trying to write her letters right now. She recognizes them all, which surprises me as she learned them without me really doing anything. And I remember at this age, Mouse being driven to figure out the mechanics of writing as well, so we’re going with it. The other day, Baboo brought out a little notepad and some crayons and said it was time to work on her “letter-bet”.
This morning as I was brushing Baboo’s hair, she looked down at her hands and noticed some silver craft sparkles on them.
Baboo: Mom! Look at my hands. Theres’ some SPARKLES on dem!
Me: Wow. Look at that. Pretty!
Baboo: I don’t want to wash my hands. They’re soooo “blinky”.
Today, after school, piano, traffic, Valentine’s day parties, elementary school shopping, Literacy night planning, Pilates classes, yada-yada, the girls and I were feeling kind of run down and decided to have an afternoon on the couch. Mouse was very cuddly and seems to need that kind of thing right now, and Baboo wasn’t going to be left out, so we just cuddled and watched some tv and read a mountain of books. It was very nice. After a while, the wigglies moved in and the girls started to get silly. They started smooshing my face around (and I remember doing the same to my mother) with their hands to make me make silly faces. At one point, I took my glasses off so they wouldn’t get broken and was holding them in my hands. Baboo, tried to grab them and yelled, “HEY! It’s MY TURN with the glasses! I want to look weird too!” I’m still not sure how to take that.
To my in Eastcoastville… stay warm! Doubley yikes on all the snow you guys have gotten!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
What the Flagnar!?
Ever see the kids movie Monsters vs Aliens? I haven’t been able to watch the WHOLE thing, but there’s a line in there that I’ve adopted. The little cockroach guy says it. It’s “What the flagnar”. Say it. Go ahead. Out loud, REAL loud. It’s even more satisfying than an expletive. And safer for children’s ears.
This has been the statement repeated often the past few weeks. Life has suddenly gotten messy and complicated and just plain weird. I’ve often been muttering “What the flagnar!?”.
So what’s borked in our life these days?
Well, first we noticed that we had a leak under the sink. We were alarmed, but dealt with it thankfully because a good friend’s husband is an amazing handy-man.
Then, both kids got sick. I took Baboo to a walk in clinic last Saturday and learned she had bronchitis. Ever try to fill a prescription on a Saturday night? Good luck.
Then on Friday, after school, when no appointments are available anywhere, we make another trip to the walk in clinic with Mouse who has spent 3 hours screaming and writhing on the floor in pain. I suspect an ear infection, and give Tylenol, lots of hugs and a heating pad for the ear, but have to wait for the Sears guy to come and fix the oven (more on that later). As the kids are waiting in the car in the garage, I’m shoving the Sears guy out the door with a gritted teeth smile (just GO already!) and grateful that for 2 minutes I can’t hear Mouse screaming because she is in the car, in the garage and the doors are closed. I throw some Advil at Mouse and start driving to the clinic. Thankfully, it’s not busy and we’re seen within 20 minutes. When we walked in, Mouse was still crying and hurting, a pain I know well as I had chronic ear infections as a kid, so I’m sympathetic, but well, ready to have it over with. By the time the nurse practioner got to us, a mere 25 minutes post Advil dose, Mouse was smiling and laughing and saying “Oh, my ear doesn’t really hurt any more”. What the flagnar!? Apparently, I learned that Ibuprofen is like Tylenol with codeine for kids and pain. I file this away and feel a bit guilty that I didn’t give it to her sooner, but glad I did eventually give it to her. Good Mom/Bad Mom. Of course, now she’s on antibiotics twice a day for 10 days. Did I mention that she doesn’t take medicine well and throws up almost every time she has to take it? No. Well, now you know. We’re on day 2. 8 more to go. Sigh.
So, the oven. I guess it felt jealous of the microwave and wanted to get some attention too. On Thursday, it was raining and nasty and we decided it would be a good day to make a mess in the kitchen, also known as bake cookies. We mixed ‘em all up, flour everywhere and popped 3 pans into the oven. After 4 minutes I rotated the pans and noticed that they didn’t seem to be very far along. Repeat again in 3 minutes. Wait another 20 mins when they should actually be TOAST, and realize that the oven is no longer hot at all and won’t light. Mutter expletives and get out oven manual, search on Google for 5 minutes and figure out that the ignitor was likely gone. Great.
I scheduled an appointment with Sears on Friday between the hours of 1-5 (way to screw a whole afternoon) to the tune of $100 for them to come and LOOK at it and say “yup, it’s broken” while baking ½ baked cookies 4 at a time in the toaster oven. Fun. Apparently it was the ignitor and the repair man, while nice, seemed to take forever, but maybe it was Mouse wailing in the background that was making me crazy. And the cost to have it all fixed? Cheaper than a new stove, but only just barely.
And last week, the woman that Hubster carpools with gave her notice to end the rides. And really, it was a bit of a blessing and not a surprise as it really wasn’t working any more. She was often very late, making Hubster late etc so we knew it was coming. We were planning to buy a second car later this year and hoped to make the carpool last until spring when Hubster could ride his scooter to work, but apparently the universe had other plans. Like to get us to spend money FASTER. Argh. Flagnar!
We tried to find an alternative, however, there aren’t many carpool or public transpo options where we live, so we’ve been scrambling this week to find a second vehicle. Which has meant some frenzied searching, frazzled nerves and a few loud “discussions”. There have been a few “we think we’ve found one”s, that have not worked out, which is very frustrating and it’s hard feeling like everyone (private sellers, dealerships etc) is lying to you. But we really do think we’ve found one that will work out. A yellow, yup, yellow VW Beetle. Ha! But the deal isn’t done yet, so we’re kind of holding our breath. The only good thing is that this was on my list of “goals” for this year, so I’ll get one off the list sooner than I anticipated.
My calendar looks like someone threw up in marker on it this month. It’s chaos. I’m trying to find time to exercise and get organized/plan but can’t seem to get it in there. We’ve got appointments and classes and field trips and meetings up the whazoo this month. It’s kind of mind boggling to be honest. Next month we start the “find the right school for Mouse next year” madness and I’m so not looking forward to that.
My desk is a mess. The playrooms are a mess. In fact the whole house is a mess and yet, I sit here typing instead of doing something about it in my pajamas.
However, we’ve managed to get through the week and believe it or not January is almost done and so far, February on the calendar is significantly less colorful. It feels as though the pace of this year had been set to “warp speed”.
And all that said, I’m hungry and need more coffee, so I guess I’ll get this day fired up and start there.
This has been the statement repeated often the past few weeks. Life has suddenly gotten messy and complicated and just plain weird. I’ve often been muttering “What the flagnar!?”.
So what’s borked in our life these days?
Well, first we noticed that we had a leak under the sink. We were alarmed, but dealt with it thankfully because a good friend’s husband is an amazing handy-man.
Then, both kids got sick. I took Baboo to a walk in clinic last Saturday and learned she had bronchitis. Ever try to fill a prescription on a Saturday night? Good luck.
Then on Friday, after school, when no appointments are available anywhere, we make another trip to the walk in clinic with Mouse who has spent 3 hours screaming and writhing on the floor in pain. I suspect an ear infection, and give Tylenol, lots of hugs and a heating pad for the ear, but have to wait for the Sears guy to come and fix the oven (more on that later). As the kids are waiting in the car in the garage, I’m shoving the Sears guy out the door with a gritted teeth smile (just GO already!) and grateful that for 2 minutes I can’t hear Mouse screaming because she is in the car, in the garage and the doors are closed. I throw some Advil at Mouse and start driving to the clinic. Thankfully, it’s not busy and we’re seen within 20 minutes. When we walked in, Mouse was still crying and hurting, a pain I know well as I had chronic ear infections as a kid, so I’m sympathetic, but well, ready to have it over with. By the time the nurse practioner got to us, a mere 25 minutes post Advil dose, Mouse was smiling and laughing and saying “Oh, my ear doesn’t really hurt any more”. What the flagnar!? Apparently, I learned that Ibuprofen is like Tylenol with codeine for kids and pain. I file this away and feel a bit guilty that I didn’t give it to her sooner, but glad I did eventually give it to her. Good Mom/Bad Mom. Of course, now she’s on antibiotics twice a day for 10 days. Did I mention that she doesn’t take medicine well and throws up almost every time she has to take it? No. Well, now you know. We’re on day 2. 8 more to go. Sigh.
So, the oven. I guess it felt jealous of the microwave and wanted to get some attention too. On Thursday, it was raining and nasty and we decided it would be a good day to make a mess in the kitchen, also known as bake cookies. We mixed ‘em all up, flour everywhere and popped 3 pans into the oven. After 4 minutes I rotated the pans and noticed that they didn’t seem to be very far along. Repeat again in 3 minutes. Wait another 20 mins when they should actually be TOAST, and realize that the oven is no longer hot at all and won’t light. Mutter expletives and get out oven manual, search on Google for 5 minutes and figure out that the ignitor was likely gone. Great.
I scheduled an appointment with Sears on Friday between the hours of 1-5 (way to screw a whole afternoon) to the tune of $100 for them to come and LOOK at it and say “yup, it’s broken” while baking ½ baked cookies 4 at a time in the toaster oven. Fun. Apparently it was the ignitor and the repair man, while nice, seemed to take forever, but maybe it was Mouse wailing in the background that was making me crazy. And the cost to have it all fixed? Cheaper than a new stove, but only just barely.
And last week, the woman that Hubster carpools with gave her notice to end the rides. And really, it was a bit of a blessing and not a surprise as it really wasn’t working any more. She was often very late, making Hubster late etc so we knew it was coming. We were planning to buy a second car later this year and hoped to make the carpool last until spring when Hubster could ride his scooter to work, but apparently the universe had other plans. Like to get us to spend money FASTER. Argh. Flagnar!
We tried to find an alternative, however, there aren’t many carpool or public transpo options where we live, so we’ve been scrambling this week to find a second vehicle. Which has meant some frenzied searching, frazzled nerves and a few loud “discussions”. There have been a few “we think we’ve found one”s, that have not worked out, which is very frustrating and it’s hard feeling like everyone (private sellers, dealerships etc) is lying to you. But we really do think we’ve found one that will work out. A yellow, yup, yellow VW Beetle. Ha! But the deal isn’t done yet, so we’re kind of holding our breath. The only good thing is that this was on my list of “goals” for this year, so I’ll get one off the list sooner than I anticipated.
My calendar looks like someone threw up in marker on it this month. It’s chaos. I’m trying to find time to exercise and get organized/plan but can’t seem to get it in there. We’ve got appointments and classes and field trips and meetings up the whazoo this month. It’s kind of mind boggling to be honest. Next month we start the “find the right school for Mouse next year” madness and I’m so not looking forward to that.
My desk is a mess. The playrooms are a mess. In fact the whole house is a mess and yet, I sit here typing instead of doing something about it in my pajamas.
However, we’ve managed to get through the week and believe it or not January is almost done and so far, February on the calendar is significantly less colorful. It feels as though the pace of this year had been set to “warp speed”.
And all that said, I’m hungry and need more coffee, so I guess I’ll get this day fired up and start there.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Let's Buy a Box
Let me preface this post by saying I am not being paid to talk about this company. Heck, I don’t even know if I’m allowed to do this, but I’ll start it anyway and if I’m not supposed, I know someone will let me know.
My days have been filled to the brim with all sorts of funny, bloggable moments, but frankly, they’re so full and I’m too busy basking in them and well, trying to keep up with the rest of life to find time to blog. Sorry.
I could tell you about Baboo telling me yesterday, that she doesn’t think that the fish cracker riding a bicycle on the side of the Pepperidge Farm Goldfish box was real. Her reasoning, correctly if I might add, is that fish can’t ride bikes because they don’t have legs. And therefore can’t wear pants. Emphasis on the “pants”. I guess pants are a must to ride a bike.
I could tell you about my fearless girls at the BIG sledding hill this year, rocketing down mogels on their little princess sleds like pros. And Baboo whining for an hour because she *IS* BIG and CAN go down by herself. She’s all of 2 for pete’s sake.
Or I could tell you about us getting locked out of our house on said sledding day and having to break into the house by breaking a door jam.
I should be trying to blog about my weight loss efforts, but I really can’t seem to get the time to put together a coherent post about it. Or I should be delivering the New Year’s resolutions I promised a few weeks ago.
I could bore you to tears with the many examples of my cotton-headed-ninny-ness of late. The many times I’ve forgotten things, lost things… like my mind, or gone to the wrong place.
But I won’t right now. I will find time to do those other things later. However, I am able to find time right now to ask you to help me. I found THIS company last year. I think it was a CNN article that directed me to their website. I love that this company gives a family (of up to 10!) the tools needed to be safe, to cook, have clean water, a dry place to sleep and tools to start rebuilding their lives, all contained in a sturdy multi-purpose box. I love that there are toys for the kids. I love that they give families some dignity; a temporary home when they have nothing. I was so inspired by Shelter Box, that I seriously considered becoming an advocate for them. Really seriously.
When the news broke of the devastation in Haiti, I couldn’t help but be shocked. It’s horrible and beyond sad. My heart is breaking for everyone affected by this, and the outreach of this is huge. It’s natural to want to help, and we sure do. My first thought was of Shelter Box. I logged onto the website, which was very slow, I hope from people logging on to donate. Eventually, things came up and I was able to make a donation towards a box. A full box costs $1000. I would love to buy a box, but it’s not really realistic.
At dinner tonight, Hubster and I were talking and he said he spent a long time on the Shelter Box site, watching the videos and becoming inspired by the good things they do. How SMART the system is. I mentioned that it seemed like $100 didn’t seem like enough.
And so, I thought of posting to see if you’d help us buy a box. If a few people pitched in we’d be able to buy one. I don’t know for sure that it would go to Haiti, but I do know that there are thousands of people around the world who would sure benefit from a leg up.
There are a bunch of fabulous charities doing much needed work. They’re all good, and all needed. This is a good one too and if you haven’t done anything yet, we’d love it if you helped us with this one.
Log onto the Shelter Box site (this is the link to the US one, but they have depots in other countries) and make donation. Let’s see if together we can buy a box and help a family out.
If you donate, leave me a comment and tell me how much you donated so I can tally it up.
My days have been filled to the brim with all sorts of funny, bloggable moments, but frankly, they’re so full and I’m too busy basking in them and well, trying to keep up with the rest of life to find time to blog. Sorry.
I could tell you about Baboo telling me yesterday, that she doesn’t think that the fish cracker riding a bicycle on the side of the Pepperidge Farm Goldfish box was real. Her reasoning, correctly if I might add, is that fish can’t ride bikes because they don’t have legs. And therefore can’t wear pants. Emphasis on the “pants”. I guess pants are a must to ride a bike.
I could tell you about my fearless girls at the BIG sledding hill this year, rocketing down mogels on their little princess sleds like pros. And Baboo whining for an hour because she *IS* BIG and CAN go down by herself. She’s all of 2 for pete’s sake.
Or I could tell you about us getting locked out of our house on said sledding day and having to break into the house by breaking a door jam.
I should be trying to blog about my weight loss efforts, but I really can’t seem to get the time to put together a coherent post about it. Or I should be delivering the New Year’s resolutions I promised a few weeks ago.
I could bore you to tears with the many examples of my cotton-headed-ninny-ness of late. The many times I’ve forgotten things, lost things… like my mind, or gone to the wrong place.
But I won’t right now. I will find time to do those other things later. However, I am able to find time right now to ask you to help me. I found THIS company last year. I think it was a CNN article that directed me to their website. I love that this company gives a family (of up to 10!) the tools needed to be safe, to cook, have clean water, a dry place to sleep and tools to start rebuilding their lives, all contained in a sturdy multi-purpose box. I love that there are toys for the kids. I love that they give families some dignity; a temporary home when they have nothing. I was so inspired by Shelter Box, that I seriously considered becoming an advocate for them. Really seriously.
When the news broke of the devastation in Haiti, I couldn’t help but be shocked. It’s horrible and beyond sad. My heart is breaking for everyone affected by this, and the outreach of this is huge. It’s natural to want to help, and we sure do. My first thought was of Shelter Box. I logged onto the website, which was very slow, I hope from people logging on to donate. Eventually, things came up and I was able to make a donation towards a box. A full box costs $1000. I would love to buy a box, but it’s not really realistic.
At dinner tonight, Hubster and I were talking and he said he spent a long time on the Shelter Box site, watching the videos and becoming inspired by the good things they do. How SMART the system is. I mentioned that it seemed like $100 didn’t seem like enough.
And so, I thought of posting to see if you’d help us buy a box. If a few people pitched in we’d be able to buy one. I don’t know for sure that it would go to Haiti, but I do know that there are thousands of people around the world who would sure benefit from a leg up.
There are a bunch of fabulous charities doing much needed work. They’re all good, and all needed. This is a good one too and if you haven’t done anything yet, we’d love it if you helped us with this one.
Log onto the Shelter Box site (this is the link to the US one, but they have depots in other countries) and make donation. Let’s see if together we can buy a box and help a family out.
If you donate, leave me a comment and tell me how much you donated so I can tally it up.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
100, um, 50... ok 35 Things About Me
In lieu of a real post about anything important (AGAIN... I KNOW!), I will distract you with a few useless factoids about myself. I think this makes this the lamest post ever.
1.I love coffee. Black, unsweetened coffee. I’m not picky, and I’m not fancy.
Heck, I’ll even drink it cold.
2.While, I’m not picky about my coffee, I don’t like Starbucks. Ick.
3.Chocolate is my middle name. Or maybe my whole name is just coated in chocolate. (mmm)
4.I’m allergic to red and blue dye. It killed me to open the Twizzlers this Halloween and just SMELL them. Curse that throat swelling.
5.I have an irrational fear of fish. Live ones. They wig me out. I used to have nightmares about them as a kid.
6.I’m Canadian.
7.I have another irrational fear of being rear-ended when slowing down or stopping. (it happened once 2 years ago and I’m still not over it).
8.I like my teeth and my eyes and hate my ass.
9.As much as I’ve tried them, even coated in bacon, I just don’t like Brussel sprouts. Or liver for that matter.
10.I also don’t like sushi or seafood, other than just plain fish.
11.I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
12.When I was 15 I was asked what I was good at, what my “natural gift” was and I couldn’t answer the question. I still can’t.
13.I love to cook but hardly ever follow a recipe.
14.I’m not such a great baker because of #13.
15.I make a roast chicken that would knock your socks off, even if you weren’t wearing any.
16.I’m a better planner than a doer.
17.I wrote an entry in my journal after my first day of high school in grade 9 when I was 14 talking about how cute the spikey haired blonde boy was behind me in geography class. That boy became Hubster 6 years later.
18.Cilantro is my favourite herb. I think I could eat a whole bunch of it alone.
19.I don’t like driving at night. I especially don’t like driving at night in the rain.
20.I absorb a lot of useless information.
21.Unfinished pottery gives me the willies.
22.So do black boards and chalk. (shiver. Ick)
23.I secretly wish I could sing or play violin.
24.Right now, my vacation fantasy is checking into a hotel alone with comfy pjs, good munchies and a stack of books, unplugging the phone and sleeping, reading for about 3 days. Oh, and maybe a facial or massage. Or both thrown in for fun.
25.Once upon a time I was going to be an anthropologist AND be the curator of my own museum (except I suck remembering historical dates). Then I was going to be a pediatrician. And then an obstetrician. And then a midwife. I am none of these things.
26.I sometimes wish I could live like Laura Ingalls.
27.My most favourite movie is Princess Bride.
28.I love to read. Some of my favourite books are Girl of the Limberlost (oh, yeah, I want to be her too sometimes), The Clan of the Cave Bear series and the Outlander Series.
29.One of my best friends is someone I’ve known since I was 11.
30.I love any food that is “pot pied”.
31.I also love Applebee’s Spinach Artichoke dip. (now I want some). It’s like crack for me.
32.I do not own a sweatshirt.
33.I lived in New Zealand for a year. It was a turning point in my life.
34.I suffered from mild eating disorders as a teenager.
35.I love to watch Biggest Loser, House, Fringe and What Not To Wear.
1.I love coffee. Black, unsweetened coffee. I’m not picky, and I’m not fancy.
Heck, I’ll even drink it cold.
2.While, I’m not picky about my coffee, I don’t like Starbucks. Ick.
3.Chocolate is my middle name. Or maybe my whole name is just coated in chocolate. (mmm)
4.I’m allergic to red and blue dye. It killed me to open the Twizzlers this Halloween and just SMELL them. Curse that throat swelling.
5.I have an irrational fear of fish. Live ones. They wig me out. I used to have nightmares about them as a kid.
6.I’m Canadian.
7.I have another irrational fear of being rear-ended when slowing down or stopping. (it happened once 2 years ago and I’m still not over it).
8.I like my teeth and my eyes and hate my ass.
9.As much as I’ve tried them, even coated in bacon, I just don’t like Brussel sprouts. Or liver for that matter.
10.I also don’t like sushi or seafood, other than just plain fish.
11.I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
12.When I was 15 I was asked what I was good at, what my “natural gift” was and I couldn’t answer the question. I still can’t.
13.I love to cook but hardly ever follow a recipe.
14.I’m not such a great baker because of #13.
15.I make a roast chicken that would knock your socks off, even if you weren’t wearing any.
16.I’m a better planner than a doer.
17.I wrote an entry in my journal after my first day of high school in grade 9 when I was 14 talking about how cute the spikey haired blonde boy was behind me in geography class. That boy became Hubster 6 years later.
18.Cilantro is my favourite herb. I think I could eat a whole bunch of it alone.
19.I don’t like driving at night. I especially don’t like driving at night in the rain.
20.I absorb a lot of useless information.
21.Unfinished pottery gives me the willies.
22.So do black boards and chalk. (shiver. Ick)
23.I secretly wish I could sing or play violin.
24.Right now, my vacation fantasy is checking into a hotel alone with comfy pjs, good munchies and a stack of books, unplugging the phone and sleeping, reading for about 3 days. Oh, and maybe a facial or massage. Or both thrown in for fun.
25.Once upon a time I was going to be an anthropologist AND be the curator of my own museum (except I suck remembering historical dates). Then I was going to be a pediatrician. And then an obstetrician. And then a midwife. I am none of these things.
26.I sometimes wish I could live like Laura Ingalls.
27.My most favourite movie is Princess Bride.
28.I love to read. Some of my favourite books are Girl of the Limberlost (oh, yeah, I want to be her too sometimes), The Clan of the Cave Bear series and the Outlander Series.
29.One of my best friends is someone I’ve known since I was 11.
30.I love any food that is “pot pied”.
31.I also love Applebee’s Spinach Artichoke dip. (now I want some). It’s like crack for me.
32.I do not own a sweatshirt.
33.I lived in New Zealand for a year. It was a turning point in my life.
34.I suffered from mild eating disorders as a teenager.
35.I love to watch Biggest Loser, House, Fringe and What Not To Wear.
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