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.
Monday, April 26, 2010
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!)
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