What a random day I've had.
When I got up this morning I was overwhelmingly sad about all the conflict I've been having with Brendan lately. Is five the new two? I have spoken with some of the other moms of kids in his class and they all seem to be dealing with similar issues.
I went online and did some reading and came up with some new ideas for how to handle some of the stuff we're dealing with. I decided that I am not going to turn this food thing into a huge battle. I love the ideas that Jen and Just Me suggested. We've actually been saving his dinner and telling him he can have that, but he whines and cries and many a night, I forget to save it and throw it out, but at least we're getting better at it.
Anyway, I was just starting to think I could get a handle on this stuff when I got a call from Brendan's school saying he was sick and I should come get him. When I got there, he was sobbing because his stomach hurt and he could barely walk. I had to ask another parent to carry Beckett back out to the car while I carried Brendan. All I could think was appendicitis.
I went to the pediatrician's office which is two minutes away, but they were at lunch and I had to wait 30 min. for their return. By the time the pediatrician got there, he didn't hurt anymore. After examining him, she guessed either a colon spasm, but felt like he didn't have the right combination of symptoms or issues; or kidney stones, but again, not the right list of other complaints.
We spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch reading books and watching TV and playing Matchbox cars and Bionicles. It was the most pleasant afternoon we've had in a few weeks because I wasn't trying to juggle kids, chores, work, cooking dinner, etc. I opted for a very easy dinner of steak, baked potatoes, and oven roasted veggies and encouraged the boys to play with their cars in the kitchen while I cooked.
I had loaded the dishwasher with the day's accumulation of dishes plus the leftover pans from last night's baking adventures and started running it only to look over and see a couple of sippy cups that needed washing. So, I opened the door to the dishwasher which is supposed to stop running when the door is opened. Only that didn't happen. It kept running and I got quite a good splashing. Of course, because it was spraying, I couldn't get the drawer to slide back in and get the door closed. It took me several seconds to think to turn it off. By then, I was soaked from the knees down and quite damp every where else and the floor was covered in water. Fortunately, at that point the boys were playing elsewhere.
Any other day, I would have freaked out and been really pissed off. But today.... Today, it just made me laugh. Maybe because I was so relieved Brendan wasn't seriously ill. Maybe because I was actively trying to be patient and not let anything bother me. Maybe because I kept imagining what it must have looked like from another perspective.
Who knows? I guess it doesn't really matter. I've lived to fight another day as they say. Or preferably, not fight, but enjoy the day and those around me.
I can't help but wonder if the last few weeks have seemed so god-awful because I stopped taking the antidepressant I was on for ppd. I don't want to be someone who can't function without a pill. I don't think it's wrong if that's what you need. It just makes me sad to think of having to live that way. I want to be able to manage on my own, to learn how to control my own emotions without being numbed to them.
Whatever the case may be, it felt nice to manage today. To turn it around and feel like I could make a change.Hold
Friday, May 9, 2008
Cooking by the Book
Calling Chef Mom. Please report to the advice podium to dole out some good advice to frustrated moms in need of healthy meals children will eat.
I've had it with cooking dinner several times a week only to be told that what I've prepared is yucky.
If it doesn't come from a guy in a clown suit or a crown, isn't neon orange and cheesy, doesn't taste like cinnamon and powdered sugar, or isn't Siamese Basil's cashew chicken, my eldest child thinks it's gross.
Dinner time is a battle every night. Admittedly, by the time I get through the two hours it takes me to construct a meal while managing a crying toddler and stopping every five minutes to find a toy, change the tv channel, open something, let the dog in or out, or put out some fire (metaphorical or literal), I've had it. I want to eat my food, get everyone bathed and in bed, and zone out.
I try to cook healthy foods I like but I realize that I'm the only one who likes them. Granted, Brendan hates all foods and this drives me crazy. It makes me mad. He used to love everything and then one day, he just became this defiant child who refuses to eat anything. And I didn't help it because I thought he couldn't go hungry so instead of saying, "tough luck, eat this or do without," I would let him have a banana or make something I thought he'd eat.
Now, I'm trying to fix the problem and we're fighting like cats and dogs every night, screaming at each other and I can't take it anymore. I literally sat at the kitchen table and cried last night after telling my whole family I was going on strike because they didn't appreciate my hard work to cook nice meals. It's insulting to have your child tell you the food you've made is yucky. And I guess I had just heard that one too many times last night.
I feel like an idiot for letting him get the best of me that way. Of course, on the one hand, he hurt my feelings and he should see that his actions have consequences. That words can hurt people. I just hate that he learned on me. I don't want him to know he can push my buttons like that.
So, what I'm trying to ask for is a little advice, recipes, meal suggestions, ideas for getting your kid to try new foods or things they think they don't like. I can't trick him, nor do I want to. So, none of this, hide the zucchini in the spaghetti sauce (he wouldn't eat it anyway because he's the only kid in America who doesn't like spaghetti). I want real ideas.
And, by the way, how do you eat healthy meals if your children flat out refuse to eat them when you prepare them. It's a waste of time, energy, and money. Do you break down and fix kid-friendly meals or do you let the kids go hungry or fix other things? I ask this, expecting to hear "the kids should eat whatever you make" but do kids really want poached salmon, brown rice, baked sweet potato, and a salad with ginger dressing? Will most kids eat that?
My friend L. prepares two meals most nights. Either she fixes something the kids will eat and she and her husband snack or have a separate meal or the kids snack and she prepares a meal she and her husband will eat. Which is kind of what I was doing, but decided was a bad idea. Now, I'm wondering if it is such a terrible thing to do.
Alright... Let me have your best ideas!
And thanks in advance!
I've had it with cooking dinner several times a week only to be told that what I've prepared is yucky.
If it doesn't come from a guy in a clown suit or a crown, isn't neon orange and cheesy, doesn't taste like cinnamon and powdered sugar, or isn't Siamese Basil's cashew chicken, my eldest child thinks it's gross.
Dinner time is a battle every night. Admittedly, by the time I get through the two hours it takes me to construct a meal while managing a crying toddler and stopping every five minutes to find a toy, change the tv channel, open something, let the dog in or out, or put out some fire (metaphorical or literal), I've had it. I want to eat my food, get everyone bathed and in bed, and zone out.
I try to cook healthy foods I like but I realize that I'm the only one who likes them. Granted, Brendan hates all foods and this drives me crazy. It makes me mad. He used to love everything and then one day, he just became this defiant child who refuses to eat anything. And I didn't help it because I thought he couldn't go hungry so instead of saying, "tough luck, eat this or do without," I would let him have a banana or make something I thought he'd eat.
Now, I'm trying to fix the problem and we're fighting like cats and dogs every night, screaming at each other and I can't take it anymore. I literally sat at the kitchen table and cried last night after telling my whole family I was going on strike because they didn't appreciate my hard work to cook nice meals. It's insulting to have your child tell you the food you've made is yucky. And I guess I had just heard that one too many times last night.
I feel like an idiot for letting him get the best of me that way. Of course, on the one hand, he hurt my feelings and he should see that his actions have consequences. That words can hurt people. I just hate that he learned on me. I don't want him to know he can push my buttons like that.
So, what I'm trying to ask for is a little advice, recipes, meal suggestions, ideas for getting your kid to try new foods or things they think they don't like. I can't trick him, nor do I want to. So, none of this, hide the zucchini in the spaghetti sauce (he wouldn't eat it anyway because he's the only kid in America who doesn't like spaghetti). I want real ideas.
And, by the way, how do you eat healthy meals if your children flat out refuse to eat them when you prepare them. It's a waste of time, energy, and money. Do you break down and fix kid-friendly meals or do you let the kids go hungry or fix other things? I ask this, expecting to hear "the kids should eat whatever you make" but do kids really want poached salmon, brown rice, baked sweet potato, and a salad with ginger dressing? Will most kids eat that?
My friend L. prepares two meals most nights. Either she fixes something the kids will eat and she and her husband snack or have a separate meal or the kids snack and she prepares a meal she and her husband will eat. Which is kind of what I was doing, but decided was a bad idea. Now, I'm wondering if it is such a terrible thing to do.
Alright... Let me have your best ideas!
And thanks in advance!
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Sweet Jane
Finally, I get to write about Saturday night!
First, I just want to say, that if you are in Atlanta, you have to go to one of the remaining 4 nights of 500 Songs for Kids at Smith's Olde Bar. If you have an extra $100 go to Saturday's show. It will be jam-packed with terrific performers, including Gnarls Barkley's own Cee-Lo singing the final song of the night.
I'm going to get this right finally... This year's songs are the... wait for it... 500 Greatest Sing-a-long Songs.
Scott performed song #380, The Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane. What a great song and a perfect fit for Scott! He was very true and I thought he was fantastic. The crowd seemed to agree.
My other favorites of the night included:
Why the Fly covering Hansen's Mmm Bop
Heather Luttrell's cover of Georgia on My Mind (this woman has an amazing voice!)
Grace Buford singing Over the Rainbow
Charlotte, NC band The Sammies doing AC/DC's Thunderstruck (kicked major ass!)
Xylah throwing down by mixing a little Pinball Wizard into her performance of Jefferson Airplane's White Rabbit
Love Rush's faithful cover of Better than Ezra's Good
The Julia Dream's cover of The Flaming Lips' She Don't Use Jelly
and
Audrey Spillman's sensual rendition of Aretha Franklin's Natural Woman.
Those are just my favorites. Everyone worked really hard to put on a great show and these are just a few of the ones that really stood out. All of these musicians gave their time and talent to a very worthy cause and for that they should all be applauded.
Go see live music, people! Wherever you are. These musicians work hard at something they love. Let them know you appreciate them!
First, I just want to say, that if you are in Atlanta, you have to go to one of the remaining 4 nights of 500 Songs for Kids at Smith's Olde Bar. If you have an extra $100 go to Saturday's show. It will be jam-packed with terrific performers, including Gnarls Barkley's own Cee-Lo singing the final song of the night.
I'm going to get this right finally... This year's songs are the... wait for it... 500 Greatest Sing-a-long Songs.
Scott performed song #380, The Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane. What a great song and a perfect fit for Scott! He was very true and I thought he was fantastic. The crowd seemed to agree.
My other favorites of the night included:
Why the Fly covering Hansen's Mmm Bop
Heather Luttrell's cover of Georgia on My Mind (this woman has an amazing voice!)
Grace Buford singing Over the Rainbow
Charlotte, NC band The Sammies doing AC/DC's Thunderstruck (kicked major ass!)
Xylah throwing down by mixing a little Pinball Wizard into her performance of Jefferson Airplane's White Rabbit
Love Rush's faithful cover of Better than Ezra's Good
The Julia Dream's cover of The Flaming Lips' She Don't Use Jelly
and
Audrey Spillman's sensual rendition of Aretha Franklin's Natural Woman.
Those are just my favorites. Everyone worked really hard to put on a great show and these are just a few of the ones that really stood out. All of these musicians gave their time and talent to a very worthy cause and for that they should all be applauded.
Go see live music, people! Wherever you are. These musicians work hard at something they love. Let them know you appreciate them!
Friday, May 2, 2008
Semi-Charmed Kind of Wife
I have been remiss in not posting this earlier. Semi-Charmed Wife has had a wonderful theme week going on over at her blog on the issue of self-esteem.
With guest posters, including moi, she has looked at the subject from several interesting angles. I think my favorite has to be Leah's which I think forces us to really get at the root of whether or not we actually care whether a specific person likes us or not.
So, if you're not a regular at her site, you'll have a week's worth of wonderful, inspired reading to catch up on. If you struggle with your own self-esteem or love someone who does, I highly suggest you check it out.
With guest posters, including moi, she has looked at the subject from several interesting angles. I think my favorite has to be Leah's which I think forces us to really get at the root of whether or not we actually care whether a specific person likes us or not.
So, if you're not a regular at her site, you'll have a week's worth of wonderful, inspired reading to catch up on. If you struggle with your own self-esteem or love someone who does, I highly suggest you check it out.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
500 Songs for Kids
I'm just a little excited about this.
Okay! I am thrilled about this!
Scott was selected to perform as part of 500 Songs for Kids, a 10-day music marathon to raise money for the Songs for Kids Foundation.
It's really a cool honor to be selected to perform during this event and I'm very happy for my honey.
I know music has brought so much joy into my life and provided so much comfort to me at times when I've needed it that it makes me really happy and grateful to think of Scott's being a part of such a unique way to help kids.
So, if you're in the ATL on Saturday, May 3, you can check Scott and many other Songs for Kids performers out at Smith's Olde Bar.
You can check Scott's My Space page for the time later today.
Okay! I am thrilled about this!
Scott was selected to perform as part of 500 Songs for Kids, a 10-day music marathon to raise money for the Songs for Kids Foundation.
It's really a cool honor to be selected to perform during this event and I'm very happy for my honey.
I know music has brought so much joy into my life and provided so much comfort to me at times when I've needed it that it makes me really happy and grateful to think of Scott's being a part of such a unique way to help kids.
So, if you're in the ATL on Saturday, May 3, you can check Scott and many other Songs for Kids performers out at Smith's Olde Bar.
You can check Scott's My Space page for the time later today.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The Scientist
What did you dream of being when you were a child? Did you give up that dream or is it still in your heart and head somewhere? If so, are you pursuing it in some way?
I'm thinking about all of this, because, as you probably have figured out by now, I'm still trying to figure out how to make my dreams happen. Some I have achieved, but thankfully, I still have others that I'm working on.
And now, my son is old enough to start telling me about some of his dreams. It's wonderful to get a peek inside that head and hear what he thinks about, to see some of the places his imagination carries him....
Brendan has been saying recently that he wants to be a scientist. And a vegetarian. Sometimes he gets confused. He told me last week that scientists don't eat meat. We fixed that one pretty quickly. Still, he wants to be a non-carnivorous scientist. I'm good with that.
On Sunday, as we were driving home from his soccer game, he told me he wants to have his own TV network that broadcasts all his favorite shows. It will also broadcast The Brendan Show. As he described it, it sounds a lot like Late Night with Conan O'Brien, my favorite late-night chat show. He said that he would be on the show and he'd have his friends on and they'd do funny tricks and they'd talk to other people about what they did and what they like. He's never watched a show like that at home, although I guess he could have seen something similar at his grandmother's. I'm not entirely sure where he came up with the idea.
Later that night as I was tucking him in, he told me that he would also like to have his own laboratory so that he could conduct experiments and make potions and he wants to be a TV actor. He'd also like to have all his toys talk so they can be his friends. And he wants a goldfish.
Big dreams.
I support them all. Except for the talking toys.
It's noisy enough in this house.
I'm thinking about all of this, because, as you probably have figured out by now, I'm still trying to figure out how to make my dreams happen. Some I have achieved, but thankfully, I still have others that I'm working on.
And now, my son is old enough to start telling me about some of his dreams. It's wonderful to get a peek inside that head and hear what he thinks about, to see some of the places his imagination carries him....
Brendan has been saying recently that he wants to be a scientist. And a vegetarian. Sometimes he gets confused. He told me last week that scientists don't eat meat. We fixed that one pretty quickly. Still, he wants to be a non-carnivorous scientist. I'm good with that.
On Sunday, as we were driving home from his soccer game, he told me he wants to have his own TV network that broadcasts all his favorite shows. It will also broadcast The Brendan Show. As he described it, it sounds a lot like Late Night with Conan O'Brien, my favorite late-night chat show. He said that he would be on the show and he'd have his friends on and they'd do funny tricks and they'd talk to other people about what they did and what they like. He's never watched a show like that at home, although I guess he could have seen something similar at his grandmother's. I'm not entirely sure where he came up with the idea.
Later that night as I was tucking him in, he told me that he would also like to have his own laboratory so that he could conduct experiments and make potions and he wants to be a TV actor. He'd also like to have all his toys talk so they can be his friends. And he wants a goldfish.
Big dreams.
I support them all. Except for the talking toys.
It's noisy enough in this house.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Girls and Boys
When I was pregnant with Beckett, I stumbled upon a message board/support group for women who were disappointed in the gender of their child/children. I generally thought their reasons were vapid and selfish and I rather casually judged them. Some of them were extremely angry that they had had a child of a sex other than the one they desired. Most had tried more than twice for a specific gender, usually female. However, there were a few posters who were really pissed off and disappointed to have even one son.
At the time, I didn't get it. At all. And I still don't get the anger or bitterness that a lot of the women expressed.
But now that the reality has completely set in that I am never going to have a daughter, I understand some of the sadness and disappointment. That said, I do not blame my sons or my husband or anyone else and I absolutely adore my sons. They are amazing and loving in ways that a girl never could be. Boys are just special in that way.
Still... there are things, experiences, knowledge, history that I could only share with a daughter. My daughter. Not a daughter-in-law. Not a niece. Not a friend's daughter.
And lately, it feels like the Universe is rubbing it in. And I just need to get it out.
I know that I've talked about this before, specifically about all the beautiful names I'll never use... Catherine/Cate/Cat, Tess, Anna Claire, Sloan(e), Emerson, Annalise, Elizabeth, Kyra.
Lately, I've been focused on the heart of the issue and that's how it has been presenting itself to me, too.
Everywhere I look friends and family are having daughters. Every movie or tv show I watch seems to have mothers and daughters having lovely encounters. Last weekend I watched a ton of movies while Scott's mom had the boys. One of them was an awful thing with Diane Keaton, Lauren Graham, Mandy Moore, and another woman. The three young women were Diane Keaton's daughters. The movie opened with the three of them at a spa, sharing and joking with one another. Of course, the mother was a real bitch, but with good intentions, I guess. However, that opening scene broke my heart.
I'm never going to have that. Not with my mom. Not with my daughter. And it sucks.
And that's just one thing on the lengthy list of experiences you can share with a daughter that you'll never get with a son. Now, that said, I know there's a ton of fun stuff I'll do with my sons. But I know that it's rare for a mother and son to have the same kind of emotionally intimacy that mothers and daughters can have. I've seen it. My best friend and her mom are exceedingly close. And while her brother and her mom love each other deeply, I don't think they connect in the same way.
And while Scott and his mom were very close at one time, they no longer share the same sort of relationship they once did when he told her everything that was going on in his life and she talked to him about who she was dating or asked for his opinion on things going on in her life. That more or less ended when we got married, although I'd be happy for him to talk to his mom more often. It's just that he doesn't need her in the same ways he once did. And that's normal.
But I think girls always need their moms in a way sons never will. And that's what breaks my heart.
And like I said.... That old fucking Universe just keeps rubbing it in. That stupid movie. Two friends/relatives having daughters in the last week. My favorite cousin's daughter going to her first prom. I know her mom helped pick her dress...it had her style all over it and her daughter is beautiful – the spitting image of her mom at that age.
Then there was the well-meaning friend I haven't seen since college who told me that she couldn't wait to meet my sons and that God really knew what he was doing when he gave you sons!"
I know Josie meant that as a compliment...I'm a guy's girl, love sports, not too prissy. Still, what I heard was, You are not good enough to raise a daughter and you'd only fuck her up the way your mom screwed you up.
Even as I type this, I hear how whiny and pathetic I sound. I know I should just shut the fuck up and be happy with what I've got. And I am happy with my sons. I wouldn't trade them in a million years. They're both so cute and handsome and funny. Each so full of their own unique personalities.
I can't help feeling like I got invited to the birthday party and all the other kids got cake AND ice cream, but all I got was a double helping of cake. And it's cake that moves around too much and is loud and won't sit still and stay on my plate.
But ya know what? At least I got invited to the party. I know that to anyone who wants kids and doesn't have them yet, I sound like a horribly selfish bitch.
And I'm sorry.
It's stupid, I know. But, it's what I'm feeling right now – a need to live out the mother/daughter relationship I've never had but see all around me. The sadness I feel that despite the fact that I went to a women's college and loved every single minute of it I don't have a legacy child to follow in my footsteps.
I'm just trying to shake it. Move on. Embrace the sports-themed bathroom the boys now share and forget about the rose and cream toile of my dreams.
At the time, I didn't get it. At all. And I still don't get the anger or bitterness that a lot of the women expressed.
But now that the reality has completely set in that I am never going to have a daughter, I understand some of the sadness and disappointment. That said, I do not blame my sons or my husband or anyone else and I absolutely adore my sons. They are amazing and loving in ways that a girl never could be. Boys are just special in that way.
Still... there are things, experiences, knowledge, history that I could only share with a daughter. My daughter. Not a daughter-in-law. Not a niece. Not a friend's daughter.
And lately, it feels like the Universe is rubbing it in. And I just need to get it out.
I know that I've talked about this before, specifically about all the beautiful names I'll never use... Catherine/Cate/Cat, Tess, Anna Claire, Sloan(e), Emerson, Annalise, Elizabeth, Kyra.
Lately, I've been focused on the heart of the issue and that's how it has been presenting itself to me, too.
Everywhere I look friends and family are having daughters. Every movie or tv show I watch seems to have mothers and daughters having lovely encounters. Last weekend I watched a ton of movies while Scott's mom had the boys. One of them was an awful thing with Diane Keaton, Lauren Graham, Mandy Moore, and another woman. The three young women were Diane Keaton's daughters. The movie opened with the three of them at a spa, sharing and joking with one another. Of course, the mother was a real bitch, but with good intentions, I guess. However, that opening scene broke my heart.
I'm never going to have that. Not with my mom. Not with my daughter. And it sucks.
And that's just one thing on the lengthy list of experiences you can share with a daughter that you'll never get with a son. Now, that said, I know there's a ton of fun stuff I'll do with my sons. But I know that it's rare for a mother and son to have the same kind of emotionally intimacy that mothers and daughters can have. I've seen it. My best friend and her mom are exceedingly close. And while her brother and her mom love each other deeply, I don't think they connect in the same way.
And while Scott and his mom were very close at one time, they no longer share the same sort of relationship they once did when he told her everything that was going on in his life and she talked to him about who she was dating or asked for his opinion on things going on in her life. That more or less ended when we got married, although I'd be happy for him to talk to his mom more often. It's just that he doesn't need her in the same ways he once did. And that's normal.
But I think girls always need their moms in a way sons never will. And that's what breaks my heart.
And like I said.... That old fucking Universe just keeps rubbing it in. That stupid movie. Two friends/relatives having daughters in the last week. My favorite cousin's daughter going to her first prom. I know her mom helped pick her dress...it had her style all over it and her daughter is beautiful – the spitting image of her mom at that age.
Then there was the well-meaning friend I haven't seen since college who told me that she couldn't wait to meet my sons and that God really knew what he was doing when he gave you sons!"
I know Josie meant that as a compliment...I'm a guy's girl, love sports, not too prissy. Still, what I heard was, You are not good enough to raise a daughter and you'd only fuck her up the way your mom screwed you up.
Even as I type this, I hear how whiny and pathetic I sound. I know I should just shut the fuck up and be happy with what I've got. And I am happy with my sons. I wouldn't trade them in a million years. They're both so cute and handsome and funny. Each so full of their own unique personalities.
I can't help feeling like I got invited to the birthday party and all the other kids got cake AND ice cream, but all I got was a double helping of cake. And it's cake that moves around too much and is loud and won't sit still and stay on my plate.
But ya know what? At least I got invited to the party. I know that to anyone who wants kids and doesn't have them yet, I sound like a horribly selfish bitch.
And I'm sorry.
It's stupid, I know. But, it's what I'm feeling right now – a need to live out the mother/daughter relationship I've never had but see all around me. The sadness I feel that despite the fact that I went to a women's college and loved every single minute of it I don't have a legacy child to follow in my footsteps.
I'm just trying to shake it. Move on. Embrace the sports-themed bathroom the boys now share and forget about the rose and cream toile of my dreams.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Life is Like a Musical
It has occurred to me many times over the last week that I haven't posted, but until this moment I haven't had a chance to write when my mind was actually somewhat uncluttered.
As is typical of our household, life has been a whirlwind of late. Brendan was on spring break last week and we stayed busy indoors for most of the week thanks to the pollen. Both boys had asthmatic episodes and required albuterol at various times.
We did manage to make it out to the Fernbank Natural History Museum. It was, in a word, AWESOME! You know...if you're a little geeky and love dinosaurs and 9 ft. tall giant sloths that have been extinct for several tens of thousands of years. Brendan and I had a ball. I bought a family membership and I am so glad I did. I can't wait to go back with him. I loved the Argentinosaurus (Hello, World's Biggest Dinosaur discovered by scientists from Atlanta's own museum!), while Brendan was a fan of Gigantasaurus, who looked a lot like a T-Rex.
Friday night I went with my friend Barrett to see the world premiere of big, the new ballet staged by the Atlanta Ballet and Big Boi, aka, Antwan Patton. I feel very honored to have been invited. Barrett has season tickets to the ballet and her seats are excellent – sixth row, just left of the orchestra pit. I can't say that I know anything about dance. I enjoy watching it, but I've never, ever, not once, been moved or emotionally touched by a dance performance until now. I found myself crying twice during this ballet. The first act was beautiful, lyrical, stirring, awe-inspiring. The principal dancer, Tara Lee, moved like the most graceful creature I've ever seen. She didn't seem human in her grace. I found the second act less moving and harder to follow. What I found the most moving of all perhaps was the bringing together of different ages, classes, and races for this performance. Hopefully, it will open the world of ballet to a larger audience and make it more accessible to those of us who feel like we know nothing about dance. At the same time, I think it's neat to bring modern music to the ears of those who might otherwise not be exposed to it or condemn it all as garbage, like the nearly 90-year old lady who sat in front of us. I didn't see a single person get up and leave mid-performance and I feared I might.
Big Boi's band was amazing, by the way.
On Saturday night, we drove up to Athens to hear our friend Mark's band. They were really good, although I wish we had gotten to hear more from their new singer. She has a really nice voice, but was definitely under utilized.
After all that fun and excitement and between the pollen and sitting outside in the cold on Saturday night, I have ended up with another sinus infection. I look like death warmed over, to the point that Brendan told me on Monday that he doesn't like me anymore because he doesn't like the way I look. I wasn't entirely sure how to react to that and chose to ignore it. Although I quite agree with him. I don't really like the way I look right now either. Or feel for that matter.
Here's to being well, focused, and happy. I wish that for all of you who may read this as well as for myself and my family.
As is typical of our household, life has been a whirlwind of late. Brendan was on spring break last week and we stayed busy indoors for most of the week thanks to the pollen. Both boys had asthmatic episodes and required albuterol at various times.
We did manage to make it out to the Fernbank Natural History Museum. It was, in a word, AWESOME! You know...if you're a little geeky and love dinosaurs and 9 ft. tall giant sloths that have been extinct for several tens of thousands of years. Brendan and I had a ball. I bought a family membership and I am so glad I did. I can't wait to go back with him. I loved the Argentinosaurus (Hello, World's Biggest Dinosaur discovered by scientists from Atlanta's own museum!), while Brendan was a fan of Gigantasaurus, who looked a lot like a T-Rex.
Friday night I went with my friend Barrett to see the world premiere of big, the new ballet staged by the Atlanta Ballet and Big Boi, aka, Antwan Patton. I feel very honored to have been invited. Barrett has season tickets to the ballet and her seats are excellent – sixth row, just left of the orchestra pit. I can't say that I know anything about dance. I enjoy watching it, but I've never, ever, not once, been moved or emotionally touched by a dance performance until now. I found myself crying twice during this ballet. The first act was beautiful, lyrical, stirring, awe-inspiring. The principal dancer, Tara Lee, moved like the most graceful creature I've ever seen. She didn't seem human in her grace. I found the second act less moving and harder to follow. What I found the most moving of all perhaps was the bringing together of different ages, classes, and races for this performance. Hopefully, it will open the world of ballet to a larger audience and make it more accessible to those of us who feel like we know nothing about dance. At the same time, I think it's neat to bring modern music to the ears of those who might otherwise not be exposed to it or condemn it all as garbage, like the nearly 90-year old lady who sat in front of us. I didn't see a single person get up and leave mid-performance and I feared I might.
Big Boi's band was amazing, by the way.
On Saturday night, we drove up to Athens to hear our friend Mark's band. They were really good, although I wish we had gotten to hear more from their new singer. She has a really nice voice, but was definitely under utilized.
After all that fun and excitement and between the pollen and sitting outside in the cold on Saturday night, I have ended up with another sinus infection. I look like death warmed over, to the point that Brendan told me on Monday that he doesn't like me anymore because he doesn't like the way I look. I wasn't entirely sure how to react to that and chose to ignore it. Although I quite agree with him. I don't really like the way I look right now either. Or feel for that matter.
Here's to being well, focused, and happy. I wish that for all of you who may read this as well as for myself and my family.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Anniversary Song
Last night Scott and I celebrated our eighth anniversary. Eight years isn't a new marriage, but when I think about the kind of enduring love I dream of, it seems so young and fresh.
So much has changed in such a brief time. As I mentioned earlier, and as so many of you know, it's so easy to misplace your feelings for one another, to lose your passion for your (soul)mate once you have children. Shoot, even without kids. I'm sure we've all sadly watched couples we thought were made for one another drift apart over time regardless of whether or not they had kids. Kids just become one more means of hiding out and not really communicating with your partner, whether you intend for that to happen or not.
Anyway, it was really wonderful to spend a perfect, romantic evening with my husband. For the two of us to slow down, to do nothing of consequence, but something profound. To just be together, enjoying one another, and remembering how and why and when and where we fell in love.
Scott completely took charge of the evening. At some point yesterday I suggested that we do what we'd done on our honeymoon. For our honeymoon, we booked tickets to London and two nights lodging. We planned to be in England and Ireland for two weeks. We played everything by ear and at times, it was a little stressful, like when we arrived in Dublin on a Friday afternoon and couldn't find a hotel room. Our delightfully charming cabbie got on his cell phone and found us a room at a friend's B & B for one night only and recommended a lovely little Italian restaurant.
So, we sort of played it by ear, although Scott had a general plan in mind. As it turned out, it was almost exactly what I had been envisioning. Almost right down to the neighborhood. I was only off by about three miles.
When he came home, we had a drink before we left and then drove around for a while just listening to a podcast of This American Life from Valentine's Day about love and relationships when they're no longer new. It was really beautiful. We took the long way to get where we were going.
So, we took the long way to drive from our house to Decatur. We drove past my alma mater and admired how beautiful the campus looks in the spring, then we drove over to Oakhurst, which is a little neighborhood in Decatur where there are lots of beautiful old Victorian style homes and cute shops and restaurants. We ate at a little Mexican place and it was delicious. We haven't been out for Mexican in a really, really long time and it's one of my favorites.
Then, we walked across the street to Kavarna. It's a coffee and wine bar that Scott's going to be playing in July. We had cappuccino and split some baklava. Then we drove around and finished listening to the podcast and drove to places we used to go to when we were dating and before we even knew each other. It was really nice.
Then we came home at 11 p.m. to two boys awake, the baby crying. Both wheezing from all the pollen. But it was a good night and I felt very loved and in love.
Perfect.
So much has changed in such a brief time. As I mentioned earlier, and as so many of you know, it's so easy to misplace your feelings for one another, to lose your passion for your (soul)mate once you have children. Shoot, even without kids. I'm sure we've all sadly watched couples we thought were made for one another drift apart over time regardless of whether or not they had kids. Kids just become one more means of hiding out and not really communicating with your partner, whether you intend for that to happen or not.
Anyway, it was really wonderful to spend a perfect, romantic evening with my husband. For the two of us to slow down, to do nothing of consequence, but something profound. To just be together, enjoying one another, and remembering how and why and when and where we fell in love.
Scott completely took charge of the evening. At some point yesterday I suggested that we do what we'd done on our honeymoon. For our honeymoon, we booked tickets to London and two nights lodging. We planned to be in England and Ireland for two weeks. We played everything by ear and at times, it was a little stressful, like when we arrived in Dublin on a Friday afternoon and couldn't find a hotel room. Our delightfully charming cabbie got on his cell phone and found us a room at a friend's B & B for one night only and recommended a lovely little Italian restaurant.
So, we sort of played it by ear, although Scott had a general plan in mind. As it turned out, it was almost exactly what I had been envisioning. Almost right down to the neighborhood. I was only off by about three miles.
When he came home, we had a drink before we left and then drove around for a while just listening to a podcast of This American Life from Valentine's Day about love and relationships when they're no longer new. It was really beautiful. We took the long way to get where we were going.
So, we took the long way to drive from our house to Decatur. We drove past my alma mater and admired how beautiful the campus looks in the spring, then we drove over to Oakhurst, which is a little neighborhood in Decatur where there are lots of beautiful old Victorian style homes and cute shops and restaurants. We ate at a little Mexican place and it was delicious. We haven't been out for Mexican in a really, really long time and it's one of my favorites.
Then, we walked across the street to Kavarna. It's a coffee and wine bar that Scott's going to be playing in July. We had cappuccino and split some baklava. Then we drove around and finished listening to the podcast and drove to places we used to go to when we were dating and before we even knew each other. It was really nice.
Then we came home at 11 p.m. to two boys awake, the baby crying. Both wheezing from all the pollen. But it was a good night and I felt very loved and in love.
Perfect.
In an Octopus's Garden
There's a reason I'm up at 4:00 a.m. Again. Blogging.
But, I don't want to think about asthma and inhalers and nebulizers, Albuterol and Pulmicort, or Paul McCartney as we like to call it around here.
I have vegetable gardens on my mind.
I know nothing about gardening really. But, I want to have a little vegetable garden this year. Drought be damned.
Do any of you know anything about gardening? How much sun is necessary (we have a very shady yard)? Is it too late to plant?
I'd love to hear any advice any of you pro gardeners have to offer.
Thanks.
But, I don't want to think about asthma and inhalers and nebulizers, Albuterol and Pulmicort, or Paul McCartney as we like to call it around here.
I have vegetable gardens on my mind.
I know nothing about gardening really. But, I want to have a little vegetable garden this year. Drought be damned.
Do any of you know anything about gardening? How much sun is necessary (we have a very shady yard)? Is it too late to plant?
I'd love to hear any advice any of you pro gardeners have to offer.
Thanks.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Night People
In the immortal words of Muttley, Rattzle-frattzle-fuzzle....!!
Today was another of those days that leaves me feeling like I accomplished little and was pulled and tugged in ten different directions all at the same time.
Brendan's on spring break and we had some fun just playing this morning. But over the last few days I feel I've spent an inordinate amount of time scolding and correcting him, yelling in frustration. Beckett has also pushed all my buttons. He's a climber and suddenly every moment he's awake is spent telling him no and getting him out of trouble. He bursts into tears every time I correct him and I feel like a heel.
Of course, it's 4:35 a.m. and I've been awake since 2:00 a.m. when Brendan came into our room for the 1000th night in a row it seems. I love my child, but it is so annoying to be woken every night by someone getting in your bed. In all honesty, many nights I don't even wake up, so he thinks it's okay. When he does wake me, it's annoying. He whines, sniffles, complains about some pain or thing that's keeping him awake...any excuse to be in our bed.
Beckett's teething, so he's waking up as well right now. They were both awake at the same time. Brendan's actually having allergy problems and I've had to give him his inhaler twice and change his sheets because he coughed so hard he threw up.
Everyone's finally back in bed and asleep, except me.
I guess I should use the time to figure out how Scott and I can celebrate our anniversary tonight.
I've been depressed all day because I used to have the time, freedom, and energy to focus on my husband, to celebrate our love and spend time thinking of ways to show him that I loved him.
Oh! The Joys!
Today was another of those days that leaves me feeling like I accomplished little and was pulled and tugged in ten different directions all at the same time.
Brendan's on spring break and we had some fun just playing this morning. But over the last few days I feel I've spent an inordinate amount of time scolding and correcting him, yelling in frustration. Beckett has also pushed all my buttons. He's a climber and suddenly every moment he's awake is spent telling him no and getting him out of trouble. He bursts into tears every time I correct him and I feel like a heel.
Of course, it's 4:35 a.m. and I've been awake since 2:00 a.m. when Brendan came into our room for the 1000th night in a row it seems. I love my child, but it is so annoying to be woken every night by someone getting in your bed. In all honesty, many nights I don't even wake up, so he thinks it's okay. When he does wake me, it's annoying. He whines, sniffles, complains about some pain or thing that's keeping him awake...any excuse to be in our bed.
Beckett's teething, so he's waking up as well right now. They were both awake at the same time. Brendan's actually having allergy problems and I've had to give him his inhaler twice and change his sheets because he coughed so hard he threw up.
Everyone's finally back in bed and asleep, except me.
I guess I should use the time to figure out how Scott and I can celebrate our anniversary tonight.
I've been depressed all day because I used to have the time, freedom, and energy to focus on my husband, to celebrate our love and spend time thinking of ways to show him that I loved him.
Oh! The Joys!
Friday, April 4, 2008
A Change is Gonna Come
Semi-Charmed Wife performed the following exercise and I was hooked immediately.
Scott always teases me about being born on The Day of Upward Mobility. What that means for me is that I always want to improve myself, make myself a better person.
Anyway, I've been thinking a lot lately about how I hold myself back. How I'm becoming the woman I want to be, but not as quickly as I'd like.
Perhaps this exercise will help me build some momentum. Below are my responses to the questions asked:
From How to Break Bad Habits_Written by Craig Ballantyne, CSCS, MS
Write down 3 excuses you are using to avoid making the changes you need to succeed:
1. I DON’T HAVE TIME. I’m so busy chasing the boys around, trying to find work, working, cleaning or cooking, blogging, etc. I always feel like I’m in a rush and I never take the time to get organized, write things down, make a plan, or set goals.
2. I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH. I simply don’t believe in my own abilities to achieve what I want to accomplish, whether it’s a staff writing job at a major magazine or having rock-hard abs.
3. I’M TOO TIRED. At the end of the day, I just want to spend time with Scott and relax. I’m mentally worn out by taking care of other people. In the morning, I have a hard time getting up and getting going because I always feel like I didn’t get enough sleep because often I didn’t.
How have these excuses affected your life? What have the excuses stopped you from achieving? Write down 3 very important things that you have missed out on because you’ve allowed yourself to make excuses._
1. I haven’t established myself as a writer to the point that I don’t have to look for work and I feel I haven’t written anything important.
2. I don’t like my body and feel unattractive because I haven’t/don’t work out consistently.
3. I don’t spend time just having fun with my kids because I’m so disorganized I always feel like I’m behind the gun on getting things done.
Now how do you feel when you fall victim to one of your self-sabotaging excuses?
Like an idiot. Like a really huge failure who doesn’t measure up to all the successful and accomplished women around her.
What benefits do you get from the excuse? Is it simply that you get to remain in your comfort zone? Or is it the fear of the unknown that is holding you back? Write down 3 ways you benefit from making excuses._
1. Part of it is comfort. Part of it is fear and just not knowing where to start. I feel overwhelmed. I don’t know how to be organized because I never have been, so it’s hard to force myself to change in that way. Even though I want to.
2. I don’t have to face the fact that maybe I’m just a fat girl who will always be squidgy in the middle and look like crap no matter how hard I try.
3. If I never get around to sending my queries to major magazines, I never have to hear them tell me I suck as a writer. So, I guess I get to avoid feeling like a total loser.
So now we both know why we’ve created our excuses - to avoid something. All we need to do now is find a way to overcome these bad habits. I want you to write down 3 behaviors you want to stop._
1. Putting off doing the hard work – getting organized, setting a plan, doing what I need to do.
2. Skipping work outs and simultaneously not believing in my ability to accomplish the goals of working out.
3. Eating junk.
Now write down why you end up doing it…were you bored, fearful,lazy, etc._
1. Lazy. Sometimes, I’m just plain lazy. I’d rather read or blog or do anything but the things I need to do.
2. I skip workouts because I have a lot on my plate and it’s easy to put other things ahead of myself. I fail to make myself, my health, and my happiness priorities.
3. I eat junk because it’s easy. It tastes good. It’s there. And I hate feeling deprived. My sweet tooth just gets the better of me sometimes.
Now give yourself the permission to change. Envision the rewards you will get when you make the change to your life and habits. Give yourself a powerful list of reasons for fixing the habit._
1. If I get and stay organized, I will ultimately have more time because I will stop wasting time looking for things, trying to remember things, and getting started on projects.
2. If I work out and get myself in shape, I will have more energy for my kids, and I will feel happy and confident about my appearance.
3. If I take charge of my life and pursue my dreams I can always live my life knowing I gave it my best shot and wasn’t afraid of taking a chance. That, if nothing else is a fine example to give my sons.
Working on bad habits everyday will give you an incredible boost in self-esteem and confidence. With each small successful improvement you’ll build confidence to take on the bigger, badder habits that are holding you back.
Scott always teases me about being born on The Day of Upward Mobility. What that means for me is that I always want to improve myself, make myself a better person.
Anyway, I've been thinking a lot lately about how I hold myself back. How I'm becoming the woman I want to be, but not as quickly as I'd like.
Perhaps this exercise will help me build some momentum. Below are my responses to the questions asked:
From How to Break Bad Habits_Written by Craig Ballantyne, CSCS, MS
Write down 3 excuses you are using to avoid making the changes you need to succeed:
1. I DON’T HAVE TIME. I’m so busy chasing the boys around, trying to find work, working, cleaning or cooking, blogging, etc. I always feel like I’m in a rush and I never take the time to get organized, write things down, make a plan, or set goals.
2. I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH. I simply don’t believe in my own abilities to achieve what I want to accomplish, whether it’s a staff writing job at a major magazine or having rock-hard abs.
3. I’M TOO TIRED. At the end of the day, I just want to spend time with Scott and relax. I’m mentally worn out by taking care of other people. In the morning, I have a hard time getting up and getting going because I always feel like I didn’t get enough sleep because often I didn’t.
How have these excuses affected your life? What have the excuses stopped you from achieving? Write down 3 very important things that you have missed out on because you’ve allowed yourself to make excuses._
1. I haven’t established myself as a writer to the point that I don’t have to look for work and I feel I haven’t written anything important.
2. I don’t like my body and feel unattractive because I haven’t/don’t work out consistently.
3. I don’t spend time just having fun with my kids because I’m so disorganized I always feel like I’m behind the gun on getting things done.
Now how do you feel when you fall victim to one of your self-sabotaging excuses?
Like an idiot. Like a really huge failure who doesn’t measure up to all the successful and accomplished women around her.
What benefits do you get from the excuse? Is it simply that you get to remain in your comfort zone? Or is it the fear of the unknown that is holding you back? Write down 3 ways you benefit from making excuses._
1. Part of it is comfort. Part of it is fear and just not knowing where to start. I feel overwhelmed. I don’t know how to be organized because I never have been, so it’s hard to force myself to change in that way. Even though I want to.
2. I don’t have to face the fact that maybe I’m just a fat girl who will always be squidgy in the middle and look like crap no matter how hard I try.
3. If I never get around to sending my queries to major magazines, I never have to hear them tell me I suck as a writer. So, I guess I get to avoid feeling like a total loser.
So now we both know why we’ve created our excuses - to avoid something. All we need to do now is find a way to overcome these bad habits. I want you to write down 3 behaviors you want to stop._
1. Putting off doing the hard work – getting organized, setting a plan, doing what I need to do.
2. Skipping work outs and simultaneously not believing in my ability to accomplish the goals of working out.
3. Eating junk.
Now write down why you end up doing it…were you bored, fearful,lazy, etc._
1. Lazy. Sometimes, I’m just plain lazy. I’d rather read or blog or do anything but the things I need to do.
2. I skip workouts because I have a lot on my plate and it’s easy to put other things ahead of myself. I fail to make myself, my health, and my happiness priorities.
3. I eat junk because it’s easy. It tastes good. It’s there. And I hate feeling deprived. My sweet tooth just gets the better of me sometimes.
Now give yourself the permission to change. Envision the rewards you will get when you make the change to your life and habits. Give yourself a powerful list of reasons for fixing the habit._
1. If I get and stay organized, I will ultimately have more time because I will stop wasting time looking for things, trying to remember things, and getting started on projects.
2. If I work out and get myself in shape, I will have more energy for my kids, and I will feel happy and confident about my appearance.
3. If I take charge of my life and pursue my dreams I can always live my life knowing I gave it my best shot and wasn’t afraid of taking a chance. That, if nothing else is a fine example to give my sons.
Working on bad habits everyday will give you an incredible boost in self-esteem and confidence. With each small successful improvement you’ll build confidence to take on the bigger, badder habits that are holding you back.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Sorry
I apologize for including you all in my anger.
I realize that the things I wrote in my previous e-mail were neither kind nor compassionate.
I am sure the couple who run that store are just doing the best they can to make a living and while I do not appreciate the lack of respect and kindness they exhibited toward me and my children, it doesn't make it right (nor is it particularly useful) to aim such ire and venom toward them.
I imagine that to them any incident that damages an item and reduces their profit is taking away from their livelihood. For whatever reasons, they do not seem to understand or appreciate the norms of etiquette and respect shop owners typically show their clientele.
My apologies. I hate being unkind and sadly I let my anger get the better of me.
I realize that the things I wrote in my previous e-mail were neither kind nor compassionate.
I am sure the couple who run that store are just doing the best they can to make a living and while I do not appreciate the lack of respect and kindness they exhibited toward me and my children, it doesn't make it right (nor is it particularly useful) to aim such ire and venom toward them.
I imagine that to them any incident that damages an item and reduces their profit is taking away from their livelihood. For whatever reasons, they do not seem to understand or appreciate the norms of etiquette and respect shop owners typically show their clientele.
My apologies. I hate being unkind and sadly I let my anger get the better of me.
Mean Mr. Mustard
This is an open letter to Bena Patel and his wife, owners of Bena's Hallmark in Tucker, Georgia:
Get over yourselves and treat your customers with respect.
Seriously.
You have pissed me off for the last time and maybe it makes me a horrible person, but I will do everything in my power to convince folks not to shop in your store because you and your wife are so very rude.
The first time you pulled your shit, I swore I'd never sit foot in your store again. Sadly, your store is really the only convenient gift shop and card shop in the town if I don't want to go out of my way or go to a store like Target.
When my son was two, we came into your store just before Christmas, hoping to find a cute Christmas ornament to mark the first Christmas when he knew what was going on. He got so excited at seeing all the ornaments and chose one...a $15 firetruck with Santa on top. He was delighted and so was I.
Until you came over and yelled at a two-year old little boy and told him not to touch anything. Not to touch any of the non-breakable ornaments.
Jackass!
I left, embarrassed and in tears with my child in tears, because you yelled at us in front of a store full of other shoppers. When my child was doing nothing that could have damaged your inventory in any way.
So...I held onto my anger for a while, but when necessity dictated that I needed to return to your store a year or two later hoping to find some charming little something for my mother-in-law, I decided to forgive you. You were having a bad day. Maybe some less attentive mom had just let her child run hogwild in the store and you got a bad impression of all parents and children.
My next visit went smoothly, although I honestly don't remember if I had my son with me or not.
Yesterday, my son, excited about his new Crocs wanted to get those little trinkets that go on them. Yours being the only store in our neighborhood that sells Crocs, I saw no other option for finding them, and since you're right next door to the grocery I needed to visit, I thought we'd just pop in and pick up what we needed and it would be a fun and pleasant excursion.
Nope. Sorry. Your wife ruined it.
She locked in on us the moment we strolled through the front door and locked in on us like we were common criminals dressed in jailbird stripes, ready to pilfer and plunder the entire fucking store.
She followed us up and down every aisle, never asking us if we needed help, but telling me instead not to let my 15-month old little boy to touch the fucking Webkins.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Don't let a child touch the fucking toys you have in there to sell to children? Did you ever stop to fucking think that I might buy one? In fact, as soon as I saw that you had Webkins, I thought I would buy one, but you eliminated that chance with your stingy, grubbing, overzealous desire to make sure a child doesn't break anything in your store.
I cannot believe your store is still open!
If I hadn't been excited for my son who so wanted to buy those stupid pins for his shoes, I would have been out of there.
I guarantee you this, I will never set foot in your store again and I will let everyone I know not to go in there either.
Jerks!
Sincerely,
Me
Get over yourselves and treat your customers with respect.
Seriously.
You have pissed me off for the last time and maybe it makes me a horrible person, but I will do everything in my power to convince folks not to shop in your store because you and your wife are so very rude.
The first time you pulled your shit, I swore I'd never sit foot in your store again. Sadly, your store is really the only convenient gift shop and card shop in the town if I don't want to go out of my way or go to a store like Target.
When my son was two, we came into your store just before Christmas, hoping to find a cute Christmas ornament to mark the first Christmas when he knew what was going on. He got so excited at seeing all the ornaments and chose one...a $15 firetruck with Santa on top. He was delighted and so was I.
Until you came over and yelled at a two-year old little boy and told him not to touch anything. Not to touch any of the non-breakable ornaments.
Jackass!
I left, embarrassed and in tears with my child in tears, because you yelled at us in front of a store full of other shoppers. When my child was doing nothing that could have damaged your inventory in any way.
So...I held onto my anger for a while, but when necessity dictated that I needed to return to your store a year or two later hoping to find some charming little something for my mother-in-law, I decided to forgive you. You were having a bad day. Maybe some less attentive mom had just let her child run hogwild in the store and you got a bad impression of all parents and children.
My next visit went smoothly, although I honestly don't remember if I had my son with me or not.
Yesterday, my son, excited about his new Crocs wanted to get those little trinkets that go on them. Yours being the only store in our neighborhood that sells Crocs, I saw no other option for finding them, and since you're right next door to the grocery I needed to visit, I thought we'd just pop in and pick up what we needed and it would be a fun and pleasant excursion.
Nope. Sorry. Your wife ruined it.
She locked in on us the moment we strolled through the front door and locked in on us like we were common criminals dressed in jailbird stripes, ready to pilfer and plunder the entire fucking store.
She followed us up and down every aisle, never asking us if we needed help, but telling me instead not to let my 15-month old little boy to touch the fucking Webkins.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Don't let a child touch the fucking toys you have in there to sell to children? Did you ever stop to fucking think that I might buy one? In fact, as soon as I saw that you had Webkins, I thought I would buy one, but you eliminated that chance with your stingy, grubbing, overzealous desire to make sure a child doesn't break anything in your store.
I cannot believe your store is still open!
If I hadn't been excited for my son who so wanted to buy those stupid pins for his shoes, I would have been out of there.
I guarantee you this, I will never set foot in your store again and I will let everyone I know not to go in there either.
Jerks!
Sincerely,
Me
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Little Acorns
I just have a boatload of randomness to throw at you today. Watch out! Here it comes!
So, first, I went to the weirdest playdate ever. Weird only because my friend left Beckett and I alone for almost an hour while she went into another room and nursed her baby. After she'd given him lunch. Then, she immediately put him down for a nap. She's nursed in front of me before and I, in front of her. I just found it a little weird. Especially when she picked the time for us to come over. I know the real point of it all was for us to hang out, but we ended up only spending about 30 or 40 min. talking while we ate lunch.
Next...
Beckett loves music and this makes me very happy. Right now he's dancing to Black Water by The Doobie Brothers. Earlier he was throwing down to some Justin Timberlake and Usher, though. It's not uncommon for him to go get his dad's harmonica and take it to him and stomp his feet and complain until Scott plays. When he wants Scott to play guitar, Beckett sits on the floor by the guitar or guitar case and slaps it while staring at his dad.
In other news, Brendan got his first pair of Crocs today. You should know I hate and am morally opposed to Crocs. I'm just not a fan of crap-tacular trends. Especially those involving really expensive plastic footwear that comes in obnoxious colors. I just cannot justify $30 for plastic shoes. In obnoxious colors. With holes in them. (Boy! Do I ever sound like a mom!) However, I snuck a shopping trip into Tuesday Morning today to look for barware for our new rec room bar and found them there. In his size. In grey. For $7.
Since the boy has been asking for them for months since all the other kids in Pre-K have them, I decided I woudl surprise him with them. Of course, it meant we had to go buy those little pins all the kids wear on them after school. Those cost more than the shoes, but I still spent less than a pair of Crocs usually costs.
Speaking of Brendan... When he walks into his classroom each morning, it reminds me of when Norm walks into Cheers. Does my son have a career as a barfly ahead of him? I don't know, but each morning when he walks into class, he is greeted with everyone cheerfully shouting, Brendan! Then several of the kids run to embrace him. And always, his friend Kush is leading the charge, followed closely by a little girl named Chloe. It's very cute. HIs teacher told me that he's the only one who gets that greeting and I really don't know what to make of it. But, it's very sweet.
Let's see...What else?
I guess there's not much else going on...I've booked some new shows for Scott. I'm doing a little work for a real estate client. Not finding enough time to work out and hating my body. But that's not news, just par for the course.
Alright. Time to cook a little dinner.
Hope everyone else is happy and healthy.
So, first, I went to the weirdest playdate ever. Weird only because my friend left Beckett and I alone for almost an hour while she went into another room and nursed her baby. After she'd given him lunch. Then, she immediately put him down for a nap. She's nursed in front of me before and I, in front of her. I just found it a little weird. Especially when she picked the time for us to come over. I know the real point of it all was for us to hang out, but we ended up only spending about 30 or 40 min. talking while we ate lunch.
Next...
Beckett loves music and this makes me very happy. Right now he's dancing to Black Water by The Doobie Brothers. Earlier he was throwing down to some Justin Timberlake and Usher, though. It's not uncommon for him to go get his dad's harmonica and take it to him and stomp his feet and complain until Scott plays. When he wants Scott to play guitar, Beckett sits on the floor by the guitar or guitar case and slaps it while staring at his dad.
In other news, Brendan got his first pair of Crocs today. You should know I hate and am morally opposed to Crocs. I'm just not a fan of crap-tacular trends. Especially those involving really expensive plastic footwear that comes in obnoxious colors. I just cannot justify $30 for plastic shoes. In obnoxious colors. With holes in them. (Boy! Do I ever sound like a mom!) However, I snuck a shopping trip into Tuesday Morning today to look for barware for our new rec room bar and found them there. In his size. In grey. For $7.
Since the boy has been asking for them for months since all the other kids in Pre-K have them, I decided I woudl surprise him with them. Of course, it meant we had to go buy those little pins all the kids wear on them after school. Those cost more than the shoes, but I still spent less than a pair of Crocs usually costs.
Speaking of Brendan... When he walks into his classroom each morning, it reminds me of when Norm walks into Cheers. Does my son have a career as a barfly ahead of him? I don't know, but each morning when he walks into class, he is greeted with everyone cheerfully shouting, Brendan! Then several of the kids run to embrace him. And always, his friend Kush is leading the charge, followed closely by a little girl named Chloe. It's very cute. HIs teacher told me that he's the only one who gets that greeting and I really don't know what to make of it. But, it's very sweet.
Let's see...What else?
I guess there's not much else going on...I've booked some new shows for Scott. I'm doing a little work for a real estate client. Not finding enough time to work out and hating my body. But that's not news, just par for the course.
Alright. Time to cook a little dinner.
Hope everyone else is happy and healthy.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Handle with Care: March Perfect Posts
I haven't participated in Suburban Turmoil / Petroville's Perfect Post Awards in awhile. This post from Wendy and Jason's Excellent Adventure really moved me.
First, I thought it was a beautiful and loving tribute to a woman who obviously played a very important role in Wendy's life, who had a tremendous amount of love for Wendy and her family, and who probably, in many ways, shaped the woman Wendy is today. I'm sure there are many people who take their earliest caregivers for granted and don't pause to consider the many ways they have been shaped and informed by these women (and men) who loved and cared for them day in and day out.
More than this though, I think Wendy offers a heartfelt example that illustrates how important the love and affection of other family members and caretakers can be to our children. I think that for the most part our children know that we love them and intuitively understand that it's our job to love them. But to have another adult who doesn't have to love them actually care about them, show them love and compassion and empathy, shapes them and informs them and helps them become better, more loving, more compassionate individuals.
I know that it's difficult for working parents to leave their young ones and to feel they are missing out on all the milestones and day-to-day changes and development. It's easy to grow jealous of our children's nannies or grandmothers or other caretakers and as a result to push them out of our lives and our children's lives. And I know that as I write this, I have not experienced this on the level that many of you working moms have. My experience with this is subtle...seeing my own children enjoy their grandmother who spoils and coddles and doesn't discipline them and who scolds me for disciplining them more than they seem to enjoy me at times.
But, I tell myself that they need that. They need her and her love for them in addition to the motherly love that only I can give them.
Wendy's post, I believe, perfectly captures and illustrates how important the kind of love a caretaker has for her wee charges can be...how powerful and everlasting an impression it makes; that chosen wisely, your child's sitter or care provider, can enhance the relationship you have with your child and leave a lasting aura of love and affection that surrounds them the rest of their life.
First, I thought it was a beautiful and loving tribute to a woman who obviously played a very important role in Wendy's life, who had a tremendous amount of love for Wendy and her family, and who probably, in many ways, shaped the woman Wendy is today. I'm sure there are many people who take their earliest caregivers for granted and don't pause to consider the many ways they have been shaped and informed by these women (and men) who loved and cared for them day in and day out.
More than this though, I think Wendy offers a heartfelt example that illustrates how important the love and affection of other family members and caretakers can be to our children. I think that for the most part our children know that we love them and intuitively understand that it's our job to love them. But to have another adult who doesn't have to love them actually care about them, show them love and compassion and empathy, shapes them and informs them and helps them become better, more loving, more compassionate individuals.
I know that it's difficult for working parents to leave their young ones and to feel they are missing out on all the milestones and day-to-day changes and development. It's easy to grow jealous of our children's nannies or grandmothers or other caretakers and as a result to push them out of our lives and our children's lives. And I know that as I write this, I have not experienced this on the level that many of you working moms have. My experience with this is subtle...seeing my own children enjoy their grandmother who spoils and coddles and doesn't discipline them and who scolds me for disciplining them more than they seem to enjoy me at times.
But, I tell myself that they need that. They need her and her love for them in addition to the motherly love that only I can give them.
Wendy's post, I believe, perfectly captures and illustrates how important the kind of love a caretaker has for her wee charges can be...how powerful and everlasting an impression it makes; that chosen wisely, your child's sitter or care provider, can enhance the relationship you have with your child and leave a lasting aura of love and affection that surrounds them the rest of their life.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Language
Each new word a child says brings such joy, excitement, and pride to the parents. Each crude or perfect sound with decipherable meaning opens wider the door through which you and your child communicate. It's beautiful.
Beckett has been saying a couple of the basics for a while now...Mama, Daddy, Budder (Brother), ball. Yesterday he added a new one...dog. And used it in a new way that was contextually appropriate.
In our hall bath, I have a metal canister to hold the extra toilet paper and Beckett loves to carry it around and take the lid off. So, he wanders in there, picks it up, looks at me and says, dog plain as day, and then proceeds to go find his stuffed dog and sit down and start playing.
Later, I was trying to get him into the kitchen to eat his lunch, but he refused to come, preferring instead to stand in our foyer, pointing into the living room, jabbering away. Finally, he looks at me, still pointing in the living room, and says dog. Looking to where he was pointing, I see our dog Cooper standing outside on the deck looking in the French doors, ready to come back inside.
I just love this phase of a child's development, when they learn so much and each day is so full of surprises...for the child and the parent. It's just delightful.
Beckett has been saying a couple of the basics for a while now...Mama, Daddy, Budder (Brother), ball. Yesterday he added a new one...dog. And used it in a new way that was contextually appropriate.
In our hall bath, I have a metal canister to hold the extra toilet paper and Beckett loves to carry it around and take the lid off. So, he wanders in there, picks it up, looks at me and says, dog plain as day, and then proceeds to go find his stuffed dog and sit down and start playing.
Later, I was trying to get him into the kitchen to eat his lunch, but he refused to come, preferring instead to stand in our foyer, pointing into the living room, jabbering away. Finally, he looks at me, still pointing in the living room, and says dog. Looking to where he was pointing, I see our dog Cooper standing outside on the deck looking in the French doors, ready to come back inside.
I just love this phase of a child's development, when they learn so much and each day is so full of surprises...for the child and the parent. It's just delightful.
Dark Was the Night
Tonight we participated in Earth Hour.
Starting at 8 p.m., we turned off all the lights and electronics in the house, lit candles, and hung out. Scott played guitar and sang a lot of his old songs that he doesn't play that often. Brendan went to bed with a battery-powered lantern that he had gotten for Christmas from an aunt and only came downstairs once after going to bed. He was very willing to go along with the flow and didn't complain or question what we were doing.
It was cool.
It was definitely a motivator to think about all the ways we can conserve energy and I was thinking it would be cool to do this at least once a week.
I only glanced out once or twice and couldn't really tell how many houses on our street were participating. I think at least one or two were. Hopefully more.
If nothing else it was a good opportunity to teach Brendan about being a good citizen of the Earth.
Starting at 8 p.m., we turned off all the lights and electronics in the house, lit candles, and hung out. Scott played guitar and sang a lot of his old songs that he doesn't play that often. Brendan went to bed with a battery-powered lantern that he had gotten for Christmas from an aunt and only came downstairs once after going to bed. He was very willing to go along with the flow and didn't complain or question what we were doing.
It was cool.
It was definitely a motivator to think about all the ways we can conserve energy and I was thinking it would be cool to do this at least once a week.
I only glanced out once or twice and couldn't really tell how many houses on our street were participating. I think at least one or two were. Hopefully more.
If nothing else it was a good opportunity to teach Brendan about being a good citizen of the Earth.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Human
Are you the perfect mom? Or dad?
I know. It's an utterly ridiculous concept. 'Cause guess what? No one is perfect. God even said so.
Yet parents today, especially mothers, face intense pressure to live up to ever-mounting standards that become increasingly impossible to achieve.
Of course, it depends on which camp you're in as to which set of standards you should follow. Maybe you're a follower of Dr. Sears and believe in Attachment Parenting. To you the ideal mom breastfeeds exclusively until the child self-weans even if he or she is five, co-sleeps, wears her child in a sling, and is never out of the child's sight.
Or maybe you're a Ferberite
or Baby Wisefollower and believe your baby should be on a schedule, sleeping in her own crib and through the night by the time she's three-months old.
Maybe your best friend has her toddler signed up for every class from Kindermusic to Gymboree, but you question how much an 18-month old can really absorb. Or maybe you don't have the $100 extra the classes cost because you gave up the job that would have allowed you to pay for the classes so you could be at home with your child on a full-time basis.
Oh! And there it is...the mother of all I'm a better parent than you arguments: Working Mom vs. Stay-at-Home Mom.
Are you getting it now?
You know it. I know it. None of us are perfect. We're all just doing the best we can to be the best parents we can be for our kids. Making the choices that we think are right. But our choices don't make us perfect and if we make a few mistakes here and there, that doesn't mean we're not good parents. It means we're human.
Choosing to be self-righteous about our personal choices when it comes to parenting doesn't make us perfect. Far from it, in fact. If we convey that attitude to our children we're simply doing them the injustice of teaching them to be judgmental rather than looking at their peers or others through the eyes of love and compassion.
As parents, I think we're all better off if we see other parents as we hope to be seen: as parents who love their children and want the best for them and who weigh every decision we make, hoping we're doing the right things to keep our kids healthy, reasonably happy, and to promote their overall well-being.
I've been torturing myself and my poor husband for weeks now trying to decide if we should enter our neighborhood school's lottery for the magnet Kindergarten class. If Brendan got into the class it would mean he has French lessons every day plus an intensified math and science curriculum. It would also mean that he is stuck with the same 20 or so kids until he goes to high school. Which I kind of think...sucks. But it's possible the academic advantages outweigh the social implications. But I don't know.
If he doesn't join (or get in – it is a lottery!) the magnet class, he can always be tested for the school's gifted class. And then, there's the possibility that academics just aren't his bag. Who knows? He's 5.
Yet, this decision has been weighing on me for weeks. As if the choice I make regarding his Kindergarten class will impact his academic and social status for the rest of his life.
I also have been feeling some (self-inflicted) pressure as I see the looks on all the faces of the parents who know without a doubt they want their wee ones in the magnet class. When I've said I'm uncertain as to whether or not I want Brendan in the class, they look at me as if I've sprouted an extra head. I imagine they think I'm not too bright and that I don't value academics. But as a natural-born geek who was always known as the smart kid I have to admit, I want more for my kid. I'd rather he be the popular kid. Or really to be both. But that's not always realistic.
It's only after spending many wasted hours reflecting on all of this that I decided that I don't care what the other moms think of me. I'm doing the best I can and if I decide that the social limitations of being in the magnet class are a deterrent to my child's overall development and that outweighs whatever academic advantage he would gain by having a little extra math and science, that's my decision to make in concert with my husband. And it doesn't make me – or you – a bad mom if we don't follow a particular crowd.
I know. It's an utterly ridiculous concept. 'Cause guess what? No one is perfect. God even said so.
Yet parents today, especially mothers, face intense pressure to live up to ever-mounting standards that become increasingly impossible to achieve.
Of course, it depends on which camp you're in as to which set of standards you should follow. Maybe you're a follower of Dr. Sears and believe in Attachment Parenting. To you the ideal mom breastfeeds exclusively until the child self-weans even if he or she is five, co-sleeps, wears her child in a sling, and is never out of the child's sight.
Or maybe you're a Ferberite
or Baby Wisefollower and believe your baby should be on a schedule, sleeping in her own crib and through the night by the time she's three-months old.Maybe your best friend has her toddler signed up for every class from Kindermusic to Gymboree, but you question how much an 18-month old can really absorb. Or maybe you don't have the $100 extra the classes cost because you gave up the job that would have allowed you to pay for the classes so you could be at home with your child on a full-time basis.
Oh! And there it is...the mother of all I'm a better parent than you arguments: Working Mom vs. Stay-at-Home Mom.
Are you getting it now?
You know it. I know it. None of us are perfect. We're all just doing the best we can to be the best parents we can be for our kids. Making the choices that we think are right. But our choices don't make us perfect and if we make a few mistakes here and there, that doesn't mean we're not good parents. It means we're human.
Choosing to be self-righteous about our personal choices when it comes to parenting doesn't make us perfect. Far from it, in fact. If we convey that attitude to our children we're simply doing them the injustice of teaching them to be judgmental rather than looking at their peers or others through the eyes of love and compassion.
As parents, I think we're all better off if we see other parents as we hope to be seen: as parents who love their children and want the best for them and who weigh every decision we make, hoping we're doing the right things to keep our kids healthy, reasonably happy, and to promote their overall well-being.
I've been torturing myself and my poor husband for weeks now trying to decide if we should enter our neighborhood school's lottery for the magnet Kindergarten class. If Brendan got into the class it would mean he has French lessons every day plus an intensified math and science curriculum. It would also mean that he is stuck with the same 20 or so kids until he goes to high school. Which I kind of think...sucks. But it's possible the academic advantages outweigh the social implications. But I don't know.
If he doesn't join (or get in – it is a lottery!) the magnet class, he can always be tested for the school's gifted class. And then, there's the possibility that academics just aren't his bag. Who knows? He's 5.
Yet, this decision has been weighing on me for weeks. As if the choice I make regarding his Kindergarten class will impact his academic and social status for the rest of his life.
I also have been feeling some (self-inflicted) pressure as I see the looks on all the faces of the parents who know without a doubt they want their wee ones in the magnet class. When I've said I'm uncertain as to whether or not I want Brendan in the class, they look at me as if I've sprouted an extra head. I imagine they think I'm not too bright and that I don't value academics. But as a natural-born geek who was always known as the smart kid I have to admit, I want more for my kid. I'd rather he be the popular kid. Or really to be both. But that's not always realistic.
It's only after spending many wasted hours reflecting on all of this that I decided that I don't care what the other moms think of me. I'm doing the best I can and if I decide that the social limitations of being in the magnet class are a deterrent to my child's overall development and that outweighs whatever academic advantage he would gain by having a little extra math and science, that's my decision to make in concert with my husband. And it doesn't make me – or you – a bad mom if we don't follow a particular crowd.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Tell Me When
Hey, Folks!
I wanted to remind you or let you know, as the case may be, that Scott will be playing this Thursday night, March 27, at 1Five0, 1000 Marietta Street, in Atlanta. That's near the intersection of Howell Mill Road.
Scott will be opening for The Lizardmen.
For those long-time Atlanta residents, you'll recognize the name Leslie Fram, formerly of The Morning X on 99.7. Leslie and her husband Lanny West are the owners of 1Five0.
The show is a benefit for Atlanta Pet Rescue, a no-kill shelter and costs $5. There will be free pizza, PBR, and popcorn.
Hope you'll all come out to support great local music and Atlanta's homeless pets.
See you there!
I wanted to remind you or let you know, as the case may be, that Scott will be playing this Thursday night, March 27, at 1Five0, 1000 Marietta Street, in Atlanta. That's near the intersection of Howell Mill Road.
Scott will be opening for The Lizardmen.
For those long-time Atlanta residents, you'll recognize the name Leslie Fram, formerly of The Morning X on 99.7. Leslie and her husband Lanny West are the owners of 1Five0.
The show is a benefit for Atlanta Pet Rescue, a no-kill shelter and costs $5. There will be free pizza, PBR, and popcorn.
Hope you'll all come out to support great local music and Atlanta's homeless pets.
See you there!
Happy
What a busy weekend we had around here!
On Friday, our friend J. and his son, E., who were passing through Atlanta on their way to visit an ailing grandparent, stopped by for a visit. They went with Beckett and me to my MOMS Club Easter egg hunt and we all had a great time.
After visiting with their family in another town that afternoon, J. and E., came back to spend the night with us. More friends came over and we ended up going out to buy curtains for our basement and installing them that night. Brendan and E. played amazingly well together, with baby brother Beckett tagging along as best he could, and had a wonderful time. We all ate pizza and laughed and talked and had a wonderfully relaxing night.
On Saturday morning, we had Brendan's soccer game at 9 a.m. and J. and E. came along with us to that. Brendan's team lost, but he played really well and had fun.
After the game, we all relaxed back at the ranch, had some lunch, then J. and E. headed up to J.'s in-laws house to meet his wife and daughter for the rest of Easter weekend. Scott, Brendan, Beckett, and I hung out at home, watching the Duke game (boo-hoo! I am very sad the team lost because they seem like a great group of kids.) and packing for our Easter trip to Montgomery. After the game we hit the road and got there in time for dinner. We were all so exhausted though, that within, 2 1/2 hours of getting there, we all fell asleep.
I was up at 5:30 on Sunday though, getting my Easter Bunny groove on, stuffing the baskets I bought last year at 70% off the markdown price (making the baskets that were originally $10 each, just $1.50 each!). By 6:30, I had stuffed both baskets, made a pot of coffee, put together a casserole for later in the day, and laid out both boys' Easter attire. And for once, we were all dressed and in the pew before Easter services began.
After church, we all headed over to Scott's brothers for a wonderful Easter dinner and egg hunt. The kids had fun. I enjoyed being with our family and just felt really close to both my sisters-in-law and all the kids. It was a really great day, I thought!
We were home by 8:30 p.m. with happy boys and leftovers for dinner. Brendan grew up it seemed and cheerfully offered to help Scott unpack the car. He ate well the whole weekend (a big concern for me is his poor appetite and picky palate).
He went to bed without a fuss and the weekend ended with all of us tired, but reasonably content.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Life Without a Cage
Beckett is at that age.
You know the one. The one where you turn your back for an instant and your newly toddling toddler has scaled the refrigerator and is standing atop it, hand in the cookie jar, and a huge grin on his face? Yeah...that's the one.
On Monday, when I was out shopping, I sat him on the counter as I fumbled in my wallet for my debit card. The salesperson told me I couldn't do that because if he fell, the store would be liable for his injuries. So, I put him on the floor beside me, his favorite stuffed doggy in hand. A moment later, I realized that he had toddled over to a shelf, picked up a teddy bear, and was running out the door of the store and into the parking lot! This, of course, came on the heels of the knife incident on Saturday, and mere moments, after I sat him on a bench outside the same store to answer my phone, and had him try to climb over the back of the bench.
Later i, I was talking to a friend at Brendan's soccer practice. She told me about her sister who has five sons. They're all grown now, or at least in high school, and thankfully, all still alive. But she said that when the second oldest of the boys was around 7, her sister went into his room to check on him and could not find him. She tore the house apart looking for him and finally found him on a shelf in the top of his closet, sound asleep.
Those of you who don't have sons are probably sitting there, mouths agape, wondering how that could happen.
Those of you who have sons are laughing knowingly.
Yesterday, after Beckett had unplugged the dock for Scott's iPhone and took off across the room, iPhone in one hand, toy microphone stand in the other, laughing gleefully, in frustrated jest, I declared, I need to put that child in a cage just to get anything done around here!
Brendan, who put me through the wringer himself at the same age, agreed. Then earnestly asked, Do we even have a cage?
Only the sibling of a 15-month old brother could agree that caging the beast is the best course of action.
You know the one. The one where you turn your back for an instant and your newly toddling toddler has scaled the refrigerator and is standing atop it, hand in the cookie jar, and a huge grin on his face? Yeah...that's the one.
On Monday, when I was out shopping, I sat him on the counter as I fumbled in my wallet for my debit card. The salesperson told me I couldn't do that because if he fell, the store would be liable for his injuries. So, I put him on the floor beside me, his favorite stuffed doggy in hand. A moment later, I realized that he had toddled over to a shelf, picked up a teddy bear, and was running out the door of the store and into the parking lot! This, of course, came on the heels of the knife incident on Saturday, and mere moments, after I sat him on a bench outside the same store to answer my phone, and had him try to climb over the back of the bench.
Later i, I was talking to a friend at Brendan's soccer practice. She told me about her sister who has five sons. They're all grown now, or at least in high school, and thankfully, all still alive. But she said that when the second oldest of the boys was around 7, her sister went into his room to check on him and could not find him. She tore the house apart looking for him and finally found him on a shelf in the top of his closet, sound asleep.
Those of you who don't have sons are probably sitting there, mouths agape, wondering how that could happen.
Those of you who have sons are laughing knowingly.
Yesterday, after Beckett had unplugged the dock for Scott's iPhone and took off across the room, iPhone in one hand, toy microphone stand in the other, laughing gleefully, in frustrated jest, I declared, I need to put that child in a cage just to get anything done around here!
Brendan, who put me through the wringer himself at the same age, agreed. Then earnestly asked, Do we even have a cage?
Only the sibling of a 15-month old brother could agree that caging the beast is the best course of action.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Walk Like an Egyptian
Sunday night I was cuddling with Brendan in his bed and we were watching a Blue's Clues video called Blue's Room World Traveller.
In the video, Blue and her brother Sprinkles travel to three different countries/continents/environments looking for magic keys. One of the places they visit is Egypt.
Brendan says, Mommy, I think Egypt looks cool. And I said, Yeah. So do I. Egypt is one of the places Mommy has always wanted to visit. Maybe I'll take you there some day.
There was a long pause as he thought about this. Then he said, I'll need my sandals. Trying not to laugh, because of course, he's right, I asked what else he would pack.
I'd need my sandals. And I would need water. And my sunglasses....And my moose.
His moose is a small, plush moose his step-grandmother brought back to him from a trip to Vancouver and lately he carries it everywhere.
I'm curious now to know what he'll plan to take on other trips. He also wants to go to Scotland, so next time I have the chance I think we'll plan for that trip, too.
.In the video, Blue and her brother Sprinkles travel to three different countries/continents/environments looking for magic keys. One of the places they visit is Egypt.
Brendan says, Mommy, I think Egypt looks cool. And I said, Yeah. So do I. Egypt is one of the places Mommy has always wanted to visit. Maybe I'll take you there some day.
There was a long pause as he thought about this. Then he said, I'll need my sandals. Trying not to laugh, because of course, he's right, I asked what else he would pack.
I'd need my sandals. And I would need water. And my sunglasses....And my moose.
His moose is a small, plush moose his step-grandmother brought back to him from a trip to Vancouver and lately he carries it everywhere.
I'm curious now to know what he'll plan to take on other trips. He also wants to go to Scotland, so next time I have the chance I think we'll plan for that trip, too.
Flow
I have a short list of things I want to accomplish this week and I can't seem to focus on it.
I spent a good portion...okay...ALL of yesterday running around doing errands. By the time I got showered and dressed and out the door with Beckett yesterday it was almost 11 a.m. We went to Big Lots looking for Easter eggs for Brendan's class egg hunt today; found storage baskets for our new basement playroom that we painted on Sunday; drove to another part of town and picked up some stuff I had ordered last week; shipped a package and faxed a form; ate lunch; came home and collected all our books and videos that were due at the library; picked up Brendan from school; went to the library; went to Target; came home. By then it was 4 p.m. The boys played while I cooked their dinner and wrapped a present.
We had a babysitter come at 6 p.m. I put both Beckett and Brendan in bed around 7 p.m. and then Scott and I went out to dinner with our friend Barrett to celebrate her birthday. We went to an amazing restaurant. It was definitely an adventure. We were home by 9:30.
Brendan awoke around 1 a.m. coughing and ended up in our bed. But then Scott wasn't able to sleep and we ended up talking until 3, I think. Then, Brendan woke up again around 5 a.m. coughing and I moved him back into his room, gave him his inhaler again, and tried to sleep in his room but he kept stealing the covers and complaining that his legs hurt. I tried massaging them, but then Beckett woke up. I got him settled back down and then it was almost 6 a.m. so I moved Brendan and myself to the living room, put on Cartoon Network and made a pot of coffee. I dozed off and on while reading all of YOUR blogs until it was time to dress Brendan for school. Needless to say, we were late.
I have an article due next Monday and I need to follow up with two other potential clients.
I also want to put our rec room/playroom back together now that the paint is dry because that is also where I have created an office space for myself and I'd like to work down there.
And did I mention that my ear still hurts? And I still can't hear? It's driving me nuts! I am so ready to pull a Van Gogh or something similar. I'm definitely calling the doctor today about both myself and Brendan. I was hoping to avoid this since I have spent about $300 in co-pays for myself and my children this month. Of course, I'm thankful that's all it was. I am extremely grateful that we have insurance. That said, we don't have the hospital bill yet. It's possible insurance didn't cover some portion of it.
Enough rambling. On with the show...
I spent a good portion...okay...ALL of yesterday running around doing errands. By the time I got showered and dressed and out the door with Beckett yesterday it was almost 11 a.m. We went to Big Lots looking for Easter eggs for Brendan's class egg hunt today; found storage baskets for our new basement playroom that we painted on Sunday; drove to another part of town and picked up some stuff I had ordered last week; shipped a package and faxed a form; ate lunch; came home and collected all our books and videos that were due at the library; picked up Brendan from school; went to the library; went to Target; came home. By then it was 4 p.m. The boys played while I cooked their dinner and wrapped a present.
We had a babysitter come at 6 p.m. I put both Beckett and Brendan in bed around 7 p.m. and then Scott and I went out to dinner with our friend Barrett to celebrate her birthday. We went to an amazing restaurant. It was definitely an adventure. We were home by 9:30.
Brendan awoke around 1 a.m. coughing and ended up in our bed. But then Scott wasn't able to sleep and we ended up talking until 3, I think. Then, Brendan woke up again around 5 a.m. coughing and I moved him back into his room, gave him his inhaler again, and tried to sleep in his room but he kept stealing the covers and complaining that his legs hurt. I tried massaging them, but then Beckett woke up. I got him settled back down and then it was almost 6 a.m. so I moved Brendan and myself to the living room, put on Cartoon Network and made a pot of coffee. I dozed off and on while reading all of YOUR blogs until it was time to dress Brendan for school. Needless to say, we were late.
I have an article due next Monday and I need to follow up with two other potential clients.
I also want to put our rec room/playroom back together now that the paint is dry because that is also where I have created an office space for myself and I'd like to work down there.
And did I mention that my ear still hurts? And I still can't hear? It's driving me nuts! I am so ready to pull a Van Gogh or something similar. I'm definitely calling the doctor today about both myself and Brendan. I was hoping to avoid this since I have spent about $300 in co-pays for myself and my children this month. Of course, I'm thankful that's all it was. I am extremely grateful that we have insurance. That said, we don't have the hospital bill yet. It's possible insurance didn't cover some portion of it.
Enough rambling. On with the show...
Monday, March 17, 2008
You Don't Have to Live Like a Refugee
If you have never checked out Blogger's monthly Blogs of Note, you should. There are always some beautiful gems among them.
This month I found one that is, perhaps, the most moving blog (it's actually a collection of material from other blogs that are all part of a real-world and virtual community) I've ever read.
Here's a link...Unseen Dharamsala. Check it out!
This month I found one that is, perhaps, the most moving blog (it's actually a collection of material from other blogs that are all part of a real-world and virtual community) I've ever read.
Here's a link...Unseen Dharamsala. Check it out!
Track 300
So, here we are...I'm writing and you're now reading, my 300th blog entry. Technically, if you count the blog posts I've written and deleted for fear of offending someone or all the brainy and thoughtful insight I've had while driving or taking a shower that has never made it from my mind to the keyboard to the screen, there are probably a few hundred more. But, let's focus on what has come to fruition here on this little blog.
I first attempted to start writing here in 2002, but couldn't commit to the daily routine of it. I got serious about it in 2005. From the fall of that year, it took me two years to write 200 blog entries. I did that sometime this past fall. Of course, it's one of the entries I deleted because, although I didn't intend for it to be offensive, apparently, I was inconsiderate and hurt a friend's feelings with it and felt like an idiot for not realizing the power of my words. So....anyway, since October, I've written 100 blog posts.
It's kind of hard to believe. I know there are folks who write 365 or more posts a year. And I truly admire them, their commitment, and their prolific gifts.
But that ain't me, Babe.
Oh, I wish it were. How I would love to have this time each day to thoughtfully consider what's going on in my world, both the parts close at hand, and the world at large. The problem is, I get too busy living to always take the time to record and share the actual experiences of living or to share my (unrequested) opinions on all this crazy world has to offer.
I've wondered if it's worth it to keep writing here when I don't post everyday. When I feel like I'm not really saying anything important or useful for others. But, it makes me happy. And when you can choose to something that makes yourself happy without causing any harm to anyone else, why not? It's a cliche, but it wouldn't be if it weren't true...Life really is too short not to let yourself be happy once in a while.
So, grab a cup of coffee and stay for a while. I'll be back with more crazy mommy stories, more funny kid stories, more proud wife and mama stories. And of course, more bitching and moaning because I know you all can't get enough of that. Ha!
I first attempted to start writing here in 2002, but couldn't commit to the daily routine of it. I got serious about it in 2005. From the fall of that year, it took me two years to write 200 blog entries. I did that sometime this past fall. Of course, it's one of the entries I deleted because, although I didn't intend for it to be offensive, apparently, I was inconsiderate and hurt a friend's feelings with it and felt like an idiot for not realizing the power of my words. So....anyway, since October, I've written 100 blog posts.
It's kind of hard to believe. I know there are folks who write 365 or more posts a year. And I truly admire them, their commitment, and their prolific gifts.
But that ain't me, Babe.
Oh, I wish it were. How I would love to have this time each day to thoughtfully consider what's going on in my world, both the parts close at hand, and the world at large. The problem is, I get too busy living to always take the time to record and share the actual experiences of living or to share my (unrequested) opinions on all this crazy world has to offer.
I've wondered if it's worth it to keep writing here when I don't post everyday. When I feel like I'm not really saying anything important or useful for others. But, it makes me happy. And when you can choose to something that makes yourself happy without causing any harm to anyone else, why not? It's a cliche, but it wouldn't be if it weren't true...Life really is too short not to let yourself be happy once in a while.
So, grab a cup of coffee and stay for a while. I'll be back with more crazy mommy stories, more funny kid stories, more proud wife and mama stories. And of course, more bitching and moaning because I know you all can't get enough of that. Ha!
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Par for the Course
I just thought I should add a quick update.
Beckett seems to be running at about 98%. He seems fine except for the runny nose. He's going about 90 miles a minute, into everything. Yesterday he scared the bejeezus out of us. Thankfully, Brendan is an exceptionally good brother and a tattletale who knows when to call in the big guns by declaring, It's an EMERGENCY!
So, what happened, you ask? Good Lord! Beckett figured out how to open the dishwasher by bouncing against the door until it falls open. So, he did this while I was upstairs, and took out a giant carving knife. And carried it from the kitchen to the living room, which involves coming down a step. A step he had fallen down earlier in the day.
When Brendan called me to come, I thought the emergency might be that Beckett was spilling juice, his new favorite activity. But something in the tone made me run downstairs. I'm feeling like a bad mom even though they were only alone a few minutes. It just never occurred to me that he'd open the dishwasher.
Brendan managed to be our hero in spite of still feeling sick. I had to pick him up early from school Friday because he was not feeling well. I'm really worried since he has been sick for two weeks now.
My ear infection is only marginally better. It doesn't hurt constantly, just some of the time. But I still can't hear and it feels like I have a carrot or a sock or rocks or something stuffed inside. Still, I didn't let the fact that I'm taking three medicines (my kitchen countertop looks like an old lady lives here!) stop me from going to a birthday party for three of my girlfriends. It was a very low-key cocktail party at one of the girls' homes, but it was the first time I'd been out around adults who weren't doctors and nurses in over a week. it was very nice. And the three glasses of Pinot Noir I drank gave me exactly the false sense of well-being I needed to make me forget my ear infection for a few minutes.
Today, Brendan is running a fever again, but seems to feel better after a does of Motrin.
Keep your fingers crossed for me that he gets better and the rest of us also continue to improve.
And keep your fingers crossed that Scott doesn't get sick. He has a show on March 27. Speaking of which, if you're in Atlanta, listen to Dave FM for a radio spot for that show....The Lizardmen with Special Guest, Scott Downes. It's a show at 1five0. I just thought it was pretty cool!
Beckett seems to be running at about 98%. He seems fine except for the runny nose. He's going about 90 miles a minute, into everything. Yesterday he scared the bejeezus out of us. Thankfully, Brendan is an exceptionally good brother and a tattletale who knows when to call in the big guns by declaring, It's an EMERGENCY!
So, what happened, you ask? Good Lord! Beckett figured out how to open the dishwasher by bouncing against the door until it falls open. So, he did this while I was upstairs, and took out a giant carving knife. And carried it from the kitchen to the living room, which involves coming down a step. A step he had fallen down earlier in the day.
When Brendan called me to come, I thought the emergency might be that Beckett was spilling juice, his new favorite activity. But something in the tone made me run downstairs. I'm feeling like a bad mom even though they were only alone a few minutes. It just never occurred to me that he'd open the dishwasher.
Brendan managed to be our hero in spite of still feeling sick. I had to pick him up early from school Friday because he was not feeling well. I'm really worried since he has been sick for two weeks now.
My ear infection is only marginally better. It doesn't hurt constantly, just some of the time. But I still can't hear and it feels like I have a carrot or a sock or rocks or something stuffed inside. Still, I didn't let the fact that I'm taking three medicines (my kitchen countertop looks like an old lady lives here!) stop me from going to a birthday party for three of my girlfriends. It was a very low-key cocktail party at one of the girls' homes, but it was the first time I'd been out around adults who weren't doctors and nurses in over a week. it was very nice. And the three glasses of Pinot Noir I drank gave me exactly the false sense of well-being I needed to make me forget my ear infection for a few minutes.
Today, Brendan is running a fever again, but seems to feel better after a does of Motrin.
Keep your fingers crossed for me that he gets better and the rest of us also continue to improve.
And keep your fingers crossed that Scott doesn't get sick. He has a show on March 27. Speaking of which, if you're in Atlanta, listen to Dave FM for a radio spot for that show....The Lizardmen with Special Guest, Scott Downes. It's a show at 1five0. I just thought it was pretty cool!
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Hurt
I just want to go on record as saying, Ear infections suck.
I have not had an ear infection since I was a small child. Until now. I finished my antibiotic two days ago, but last night woke up with excruciating pain in my left ear. Earlier in the night the congestion in my head made it feel like I couldn't hear.
This morning I called my doctor and told him what was going on. He called in three new prescriptions for me. A steroid to reduce the swelling in my eustachian tubes; a new decongestant that is more head-centric and less focused on the chest; and Hydrocodone for the pain. I took one pain pill at 3 p.m. and another at 7 p.m. and I'm still hurting.
I don't know how this is possible, but I am so thankful neither boy has had an ear infection yet.
I have not had an ear infection since I was a small child. Until now. I finished my antibiotic two days ago, but last night woke up with excruciating pain in my left ear. Earlier in the night the congestion in my head made it feel like I couldn't hear.
This morning I called my doctor and told him what was going on. He called in three new prescriptions for me. A steroid to reduce the swelling in my eustachian tubes; a new decongestant that is more head-centric and less focused on the chest; and Hydrocodone for the pain. I took one pain pill at 3 p.m. and another at 7 p.m. and I'm still hurting.
I don't know how this is possible, but I am so thankful neither boy has had an ear infection yet.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Thank You
I just wanted to write a post saying how grateful I am to have friends who are so eager and willing to step up when they're needed. From the dear friend who sat in the ER with me for six hours and ran every errand imaginable including picking up my car at the pediatrician's office and getting me lunch to the doll who brought me a lasagne this morning, I am truly blessed.
In addition to all the wonderful friends in my life, I am also blessed right now to have more work than I know what to do with (I'm not complaining!). I have two articles I'm ghostwriting, one of which I got because I called to interview someone for the first story. And there may be more. If only I knew something about income trusts....
I am beginning to see what is really possible when you start thinking positively and focusing your energy on gratitude instead of fear.
In addition to all the wonderful friends in my life, I am also blessed right now to have more work than I know what to do with (I'm not complaining!). I have two articles I'm ghostwriting, one of which I got because I called to interview someone for the first story. And there may be more. If only I knew something about income trusts....
I am beginning to see what is really possible when you start thinking positively and focusing your energy on gratitude instead of fear.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
On the Road Again
Slowly we emerge from the dark cave of despair.
Beckett came home from the hospital Saturday afternoon and continues to improve. I think he was happiest just to be able to roam freely about the house and play with his toys.
Brendan returned to school today. He was happy and his friend Kush gave him a big hug and said, "I am sorry you were absent, Brendan." It was somehow very formal and very sweet.
I picked up where my mother-in-law left off with cleaning my house. That wonderful woman did all of our laundry and organized my laundry room for me. She cooked a big meal Sunday night so that we'd have leftovers and she made me a bunch of her delicious chicken salad so I have lunch for several days.
I'm trying to organize an office space for myself in our basement and turn the rest of the area into a family room/playroom area. I need paint and a rug. To start with. Not sure what else we need. I don't feel like painting though. I need someone who likes painting so much they'd do it in someone else's house. I like it, but I'm too tired right now.
And now I'm rambling.
So, this is where we are. Better. Not 100%. But much, much better. Thank you all for the kind words and wishes.
Beckett came home from the hospital Saturday afternoon and continues to improve. I think he was happiest just to be able to roam freely about the house and play with his toys.
Brendan returned to school today. He was happy and his friend Kush gave him a big hug and said, "I am sorry you were absent, Brendan." It was somehow very formal and very sweet.
I picked up where my mother-in-law left off with cleaning my house. That wonderful woman did all of our laundry and organized my laundry room for me. She cooked a big meal Sunday night so that we'd have leftovers and she made me a bunch of her delicious chicken salad so I have lunch for several days.
I'm trying to organize an office space for myself in our basement and turn the rest of the area into a family room/playroom area. I need paint and a rug. To start with. Not sure what else we need. I don't feel like painting though. I need someone who likes painting so much they'd do it in someone else's house. I like it, but I'm too tired right now.
And now I'm rambling.
So, this is where we are. Better. Not 100%. But much, much better. Thank you all for the kind words and wishes.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Breathe
No profound insight or deep meaning today. Just a quick update.
Brendan has been sick since last Monday. Fever of 103, general malaise. Doctor said it was a virus, he'd be better in 48 hours. Ha! He's still sick.
I started coughing a day or two later. Beckett awoke yesterday at 4 a.m. with the croup. I took him in to the pediatrician who determined he wasn't oxygenating. His oxygen level was in the 80s, so she insisted he be transported by ambulance to the ER so he could be on oxygen. Brendan and I rode along. Spent 8 hours in the ER before he was admitted. He has to stay again tonight.
I was coughing like crazy last night and having sharp pains in my ribs and feel like I have a weight on my chest. Saw my doctor 30 minutes ago who told me I have a sinus infection, bronchitis and walking pneumonia. Oh, yeah. And an ear infection. Fun stuff.
So, now I'm going to the grocery, to pick up my three prescriptions, and head back to the hospital to relieve my mother-in-law.
Say some prayers for us that we all recover quickly.
Brendan has been sick since last Monday. Fever of 103, general malaise. Doctor said it was a virus, he'd be better in 48 hours. Ha! He's still sick.
I started coughing a day or two later. Beckett awoke yesterday at 4 a.m. with the croup. I took him in to the pediatrician who determined he wasn't oxygenating. His oxygen level was in the 80s, so she insisted he be transported by ambulance to the ER so he could be on oxygen. Brendan and I rode along. Spent 8 hours in the ER before he was admitted. He has to stay again tonight.
I was coughing like crazy last night and having sharp pains in my ribs and feel like I have a weight on my chest. Saw my doctor 30 minutes ago who told me I have a sinus infection, bronchitis and walking pneumonia. Oh, yeah. And an ear infection. Fun stuff.
So, now I'm going to the grocery, to pick up my three prescriptions, and head back to the hospital to relieve my mother-in-law.
Say some prayers for us that we all recover quickly.
Friday, February 29, 2008
You Don't Pull No Punches
My friend whose baby girl died of SIDS last year is expecting a new baby. She's actually due in just over three weeks.
Last night, our Bunco group hosted a shower for her. It was so much fun. It was a surprise and so cool to see the look on her face when she realized what was going on.
I was one of the co-hosts and was tasked with doing something with champagne. So, below is a recipe I found that turned out to be very tasty. I'll share it. I'm not generally a fan of super-sweet punches, but this one is a little different.
1 can Cherry-Pomegranate juice concentrate (original recipe calls for cranberry juice concentrate, but I substituted this)
1 can Pink Lemonade
1 can Limeade
2 bottles Champagne
1 bottle white wine (I used a Riesling)
1 liter club soda
1 lemon sliced
1 lime sliced
Blend all in a punch bowl and add fruit slices. You can also add frozen strawberries or raspberries.
I made a puree of fresh strawberries and fresh mango which I then froze in some butter molds shaped like dogwood blossoms and floated them on top of the punch. It was a very pretty and refreshing punch.
Last night, our Bunco group hosted a shower for her. It was so much fun. It was a surprise and so cool to see the look on her face when she realized what was going on.
I was one of the co-hosts and was tasked with doing something with champagne. So, below is a recipe I found that turned out to be very tasty. I'll share it. I'm not generally a fan of super-sweet punches, but this one is a little different.
1 can Cherry-Pomegranate juice concentrate (original recipe calls for cranberry juice concentrate, but I substituted this)
1 can Pink Lemonade
1 can Limeade
2 bottles Champagne
1 bottle white wine (I used a Riesling)
1 liter club soda
1 lemon sliced
1 lime sliced
Blend all in a punch bowl and add fruit slices. You can also add frozen strawberries or raspberries.
I made a puree of fresh strawberries and fresh mango which I then froze in some butter molds shaped like dogwood blossoms and floated them on top of the punch. It was a very pretty and refreshing punch.
Five for Fighting
I'm stealing this from Rennratt because I just thought it was pretty funny. It probably has something to do with being battered and bruised by my own five-year old who thinks I'm his personal jungle gym to climb on, jump on, tackle, kick, punch, or otherwise roughhouse with, all in the name of playing Transformers or Spider-Man.
19
I say, bring 'em on!
19
I say, bring 'em on!
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Further on Up the Road
Your Life Path Number is 22 |
 Your purpose in life is to use your power for good Of all the life paths, yours has the most innate power. Your power lies in your vision, and you must recruit others to help you in this vision. You are able to be a great idealist, but you still have the practicality to get things done. In love, you tend to be a big romantic - but you also tend to keep your distance. You have a lot of potential, and it's sometimes hard to live up to. Sometimes you just feel like slipping into obscurity and doing nothing. You tend to be prone to dramatic emotions, until you step back and look at things honestly. |
You Never Give Me Your Money
I know what you're thinking.
You're right. I'm a sell out.
I have an advertiser. We're in a trial relationship for the moment. We'll see how it goes. If s/he doesn't leave the cap off the toothpaste or squeeze it from the middle and I don't annoy her/him by stealing all the covers in the middle of the night, we may take it to the next level. So to speak.
The ad (to the left), is for a new web site called Doing Fine that is supposed to celebrate the positive things in life, to be a place where folks share stories of what is going right in their lives as opposed to just bitching about the negative (as some of us - namely me - are guilty of doing).
It seems like a fine idea. I can get behind that.
So, please take a moment to visit them and check it all out.
And have a happy day.
You're right. I'm a sell out.
I have an advertiser. We're in a trial relationship for the moment. We'll see how it goes. If s/he doesn't leave the cap off the toothpaste or squeeze it from the middle and I don't annoy her/him by stealing all the covers in the middle of the night, we may take it to the next level. So to speak.
The ad (to the left), is for a new web site called Doing Fine that is supposed to celebrate the positive things in life, to be a place where folks share stories of what is going right in their lives as opposed to just bitching about the negative (as some of us - namely me - are guilty of doing).
It seems like a fine idea. I can get behind that.
So, please take a moment to visit them and check it all out.
And have a happy day.
Stormy Weather
We just had a big storm blow through. I don't typically fear storms, but this one woke me up, and for some reason made me a bit nervous. It was all big, gusty winds, lightning and thunder. It was raining hard, but the wind was so fierce that you couldn't hear the rain over it.
But as I was sitting here, reading other blogs, suddenly I realized I could hear birds singing. And the patter of soft rain. Such a hopeful way to begin a day.
How lovely.
Nature does wonders for the soul.
But as I was sitting here, reading other blogs, suddenly I realized I could hear birds singing. And the patter of soft rain. Such a hopeful way to begin a day.
How lovely.
Nature does wonders for the soul.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Falling Slowly
Awards shows don't make me cry. Lots of things make me cry. But not superficial celebrities.
Last night, watching the Oscars, I cried.
The sheer joy and awe at performing his song at the Oscars that shone out of Glen Hansard's face moved me to tears. And the giddy yet shy smile on Marketa Irglova's face while she was playing piano and singing fairly shouted, Can you believe this?! We're really here. Doing this! Wow!, while at the same time it conveyed her obviously sweet and earnest disposition.
The song was amazing. So perfectly said and beautiful. So hopeful. So right. Sung so passionately. And played on that obviously much-loved guitar that Hansard plays. Oh! It just all made me so happy. It was just so right. My joy at their winning Best Song made me clap and do a little dance where I sat. I mean really! I can't imagine better people winning. It's such a redeeming moment for genuine artists, a group of like-minded friends could create a work of art, a movie, and put it out there and have it lead to genuine recognition for their efforts.
As a writer and as the wife of a talented and hard-working musician, the friend of many other working artists in various genres, it gave me great hope that real art created by real, thinking, feeling individuals (as opposed to song-writing hacks hired by studios and labels to throw some words and notes on a page and hand them to some hand-picked pop-tart and mashed together with ProTools and pitch correction software) is still being recognized at that level.
Yay for the little man and woman!
I also loved both of their speeches and I swear...Jon Stewart will now and forever have a special place in my heart for bringing Marketa Irglova back on stage to give her acceptance speech after being cut off by the producers. And I daresay, hers was one of the finest, most inspiring speeches I've ever heard given on an awards broadcast. In fact, I was so moved by it that I want to share it with you in case you did not see it yourself:
Irglova also wins double-Dawn points by using one of my all time favorite Irish expressions, fair play, which basically means congratulations.
And just because his speech was pretty special too, here's what Hansard had to say in his speech:
Of course, it's all just made better for me by the fact that Hansard is Irish, Once was shot in Dublin, and I'm a sucker for Irishmen.
Last night, watching the Oscars, I cried.
The sheer joy and awe at performing his song at the Oscars that shone out of Glen Hansard's face moved me to tears. And the giddy yet shy smile on Marketa Irglova's face while she was playing piano and singing fairly shouted, Can you believe this?! We're really here. Doing this! Wow!, while at the same time it conveyed her obviously sweet and earnest disposition.
The song was amazing. So perfectly said and beautiful. So hopeful. So right. Sung so passionately. And played on that obviously much-loved guitar that Hansard plays. Oh! It just all made me so happy. It was just so right. My joy at their winning Best Song made me clap and do a little dance where I sat. I mean really! I can't imagine better people winning. It's such a redeeming moment for genuine artists, a group of like-minded friends could create a work of art, a movie, and put it out there and have it lead to genuine recognition for their efforts.
As a writer and as the wife of a talented and hard-working musician, the friend of many other working artists in various genres, it gave me great hope that real art created by real, thinking, feeling individuals (as opposed to song-writing hacks hired by studios and labels to throw some words and notes on a page and hand them to some hand-picked pop-tart and mashed together with ProTools and pitch correction software) is still being recognized at that level.
Yay for the little man and woman!
I also loved both of their speeches and I swear...Jon Stewart will now and forever have a special place in my heart for bringing Marketa Irglova back on stage to give her acceptance speech after being cut off by the producers. And I daresay, hers was one of the finest, most inspiring speeches I've ever heard given on an awards broadcast. In fact, I was so moved by it that I want to share it with you in case you did not see it yourself:
Hi everyone. I just want to thank you so much. This is such a big deal, not only for us, but for all other independent musicians and artists that spend most of their time struggling, and this, the fact that we're standing here tonight, the fact that we're able to hold this, it's just to prove no matter how far out your dreams are, it's possible. And, you know, fair play to those who dare to dream and don't give up. And this song was written from a perspective of hope, and hope at the end of the day connects us all, no matter how different we are. And so thank you so much, who helped us along the way. Thank you
Irglova also wins double-Dawn points by using one of my all time favorite Irish expressions, fair play, which basically means congratulations.
And just because his speech was pretty special too, here's what Hansard had to say in his speech:
Thanks! This is amazing. What are we doing here? This is mad. We made this film two years ago. We shot on two Handicams. It took us three weeks to make. We made it for a hundred grand. We never thought we would come into a room like this and be in front of you people. It's been an amazing thing. Thanks for taking this film seriously, all of you. It means a lot to us. Thanks to the Academy, thanks to all the people who've helped us, they know who they are, we don't need to say them. This is amazing. Make art. Make art. Thanks.e>
Of course, it's all just made better for me by the fact that Hansard is Irish, Once was shot in Dublin, and I'm a sucker for Irishmen.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
I feel like I've just awoken or broken free of a fog that was shrouding everything I've done for the last 36 hours or so. After getting very little sleep on Valentine's night, I had another rough day and night of it all yesterday. Thankfully, school was out so I didn't have to rush to be anywhere and was able to sleep until 7:30 when Beckett was up for good. I also had the blood drive yesterday, which went well. When I was there from noon until 2 p.m. we had already collected 20 pints and that wasn't counting the five or so of us who were there at the same time. Not too shabby.
It was kind of a zoo with kids all over the waiting room. The Red Cross provided a cake as well as the normal Nutter Butters (my favorite thing about giving blood!) and Cheese Nips, and there were actually people who had just come to donate who ended up doing it in Claire's honor.
By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I've never reacted well to giving blood. I usually bruise severely, as in from the elbow to the shoulder. This time, I barely bruised at all, but it took over 30 minutes for them to drain me and they had to keep readjusting the needle. My arm hurts from the elbow to my fingertips, especially when I clinch my fingers for any reason. I was also exhausted. I felt as if I could just fall asleep standing up last night. So, naturally neither boy slept well although Scott helped me go to bed early. The boys or at least one of them was up at 1 a.m.; at 3:00 or so I had to get Beckett a bottle. Then, Brendan ended up in our bed and at 4:00 a.m. started whining because he was congested. I moved him to his bed and tried to sleep with him, but he woke up whining again at 5:30 and stayed up. I tried sleeping in the recliner in the living room, but he kept talking to me, so finally I left him there watching Banana Splits or whatever other nonsense is on at that time of the morning and went back to bed until 6:30 when Beckett started crying. I tried to ignore him, hoping he'd find his way back to sleep, but Brendan showed up at my bedside to tell me his brother was crying and that I needed to get him up. Finally, I caved in and cried while I was changing Beckett's diaper because I haven't felt this tired since Beckett was born and I had yelled at Brendan to leave me alone and I hate the way being exhausted changes my personality and makes me mean.
Thankfully, Beckett went down for a nap around 10 a.m. and while Brendan watched a video and played trains, I got an 1 1/2 nap while Scott ran interference for me. Then, later both boys took afternoon naps and I had a luxurious soak in a hot bath using all the delightful Aveda products Scott lavished me with for Valentine's Day.
I felt like a new woman. Now, both boys are asleep; Scott and I are watching the NBA Skills competition; I'm cozy in my new jammies; and hopefully tomorrow will be a new day.
It was kind of a zoo with kids all over the waiting room. The Red Cross provided a cake as well as the normal Nutter Butters (my favorite thing about giving blood!) and Cheese Nips, and there were actually people who had just come to donate who ended up doing it in Claire's honor.
By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I've never reacted well to giving blood. I usually bruise severely, as in from the elbow to the shoulder. This time, I barely bruised at all, but it took over 30 minutes for them to drain me and they had to keep readjusting the needle. My arm hurts from the elbow to my fingertips, especially when I clinch my fingers for any reason. I was also exhausted. I felt as if I could just fall asleep standing up last night. So, naturally neither boy slept well although Scott helped me go to bed early. The boys or at least one of them was up at 1 a.m.; at 3:00 or so I had to get Beckett a bottle. Then, Brendan ended up in our bed and at 4:00 a.m. started whining because he was congested. I moved him to his bed and tried to sleep with him, but he woke up whining again at 5:30 and stayed up. I tried sleeping in the recliner in the living room, but he kept talking to me, so finally I left him there watching Banana Splits or whatever other nonsense is on at that time of the morning and went back to bed until 6:30 when Beckett started crying. I tried to ignore him, hoping he'd find his way back to sleep, but Brendan showed up at my bedside to tell me his brother was crying and that I needed to get him up. Finally, I caved in and cried while I was changing Beckett's diaper because I haven't felt this tired since Beckett was born and I had yelled at Brendan to leave me alone and I hate the way being exhausted changes my personality and makes me mean.
Thankfully, Beckett went down for a nap around 10 a.m. and while Brendan watched a video and played trains, I got an 1 1/2 nap while Scott ran interference for me. Then, later both boys took afternoon naps and I had a luxurious soak in a hot bath using all the delightful Aveda products Scott lavished me with for Valentine's Day.
I felt like a new woman. Now, both boys are asleep; Scott and I are watching the NBA Skills competition; I'm cozy in my new jammies; and hopefully tomorrow will be a new day.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Blood and Chocolate
I feel like I could sleep for a week. Maybe two.
I didn't go to bed until after 1 a.m. Beckett was up from 3:00 until 4:00. Then, I remember being up from 4:45 or so until almost 6, but I don't remember why. Brendan? Beckett? Our dog who frequently needs to go out in the middle of the night?
Am I losing my mind?
Anyway, today was our blood drive in honor of our friend's baby. I was at the donation center for over two hours waiting, watching other donors' kids, and donating. My blood flows slowly for some reason (I wonder if this would keep me from bleeding out in the event of an emergency?), so it always takes me twice as long as anyone else to give a pint of juicy red goodness.
We got home and with both boys either napping or playing quietly I slept for 40 min. The only reason I awoke then was Beckett's crying to be rescued from his crib.
If I sat still for 3 minutes and closed my eyes, I'd be asleep. It's so tempting.
I have also been starving ever since donating. No appetite at all beforehand, but now I could eat a big chunk of red meat. And chocolate. Thankfully, we have a new Greek restaurant that delivers so we'll be having takeout Gyros for supper. And then there are the truffles Scott brought us for Valentine's Day. Yum. Not the healthiest, but oh so easy. And it should quell my hankering for red meat.
Hopefully both boys go down easily and we can relax and watch the episode of Lost we missed last night and go to sleep early. Oh to dream.
I didn't go to bed until after 1 a.m. Beckett was up from 3:00 until 4:00. Then, I remember being up from 4:45 or so until almost 6, but I don't remember why. Brendan? Beckett? Our dog who frequently needs to go out in the middle of the night?
Am I losing my mind?
Anyway, today was our blood drive in honor of our friend's baby. I was at the donation center for over two hours waiting, watching other donors' kids, and donating. My blood flows slowly for some reason (I wonder if this would keep me from bleeding out in the event of an emergency?), so it always takes me twice as long as anyone else to give a pint of juicy red goodness.
We got home and with both boys either napping or playing quietly I slept for 40 min. The only reason I awoke then was Beckett's crying to be rescued from his crib.
If I sat still for 3 minutes and closed my eyes, I'd be asleep. It's so tempting.
I have also been starving ever since donating. No appetite at all beforehand, but now I could eat a big chunk of red meat. And chocolate. Thankfully, we have a new Greek restaurant that delivers so we'll be having takeout Gyros for supper. And then there are the truffles Scott brought us for Valentine's Day. Yum. Not the healthiest, but oh so easy. And it should quell my hankering for red meat.
Hopefully both boys go down easily and we can relax and watch the episode of Lost we missed last night and go to sleep early. Oh to dream.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Boys
Wow.
My friend Suzanne just sent me this and it makes me feel bad. I love, love, love my boys. And by having sons, it has opened up an entire world to me that I wouldn't know had I only had daughters. But I've never quite been able to shed the sense of loss or failure that I feel over not having a girl. I never even realized I wanted a girl until I didn't have one. I feel guilty, of course, for saying these things. That somehow by admitting it, that it lessens the love I feel for my boys. I've always thought that God must feel I didn't deserve a girl, that somehow I'd just fuck her up the way my mom did to me. Stupid, huh?
Anyway, Suzanne sent me the article below. I'll try to find and post a link to the actual story later.
from the UK Telegraph
Boys 'lead to more post-natal depression'
By Rebecca Smith, Medical Editor
Last Updated: 5:58pm GMT 13/02/2008
Women who give birth to boys are more likely to suffer post-natal depression than those having daughters, a study has found.
Having a son is 'more likely to reduce quality of life'
Research carried out in France found three quarters of women who were diagnosed with severe post-natal depression had sons.
Even if the mother had not been diagnosed as depressed, having a son was significantly more likely to reduce their quality of life compared to mothers of girls, according to the research which was published in the Journal of Clinical Nursing.
A team of researchers led by Professor Claude de Tychey, from Université Nancy, France, studied 181 women from a community where there were no cultural pressures about the sex of children.
All the women were aged 19 to 40, with 52 per cent of the total giving birth to boys and 48 per cent giving birth to girls.
A third had signs of post natal depression when interviewed one to two months after the birth and nine per cent had severe symptoms.
Prof de Tychey said: “When we launched our research, our main aim was to study the effect that gender has on PND.
But the overwhelming finding of the study was the fact that gender appears to play a significant role in reduced quality of life as well as an increased chance of severe PND.”
They also found women who had given birth to a boy reported lower quality of life scores in 70 per cent of cases compared with women who had delivered a girl, regardless of whether they suffered from post-natal depression. In women who did not have depression, mothers of sons had lower quality of life scores in nine out of the 10 categories.
“These figures show very clearly that having a boy resulted in lower quality of life scores in all cases” says Professor de Tychey.
“We also discovered that being a first-time mother had no effect on quality of life scores.
Women had the same general scores regardless of whether the recent birth was their first or second baby.” The study also found that women who had a daughter as their first child were more likely to have a second baby than those who had a boy first.
Prof Tychey said: “Previous studies have shown that women who live in cultures where greater value is placed on sons are more likely to suffer from PND if they give birth to a girl.
“However, we believe that this study – carried out in a French community where women didn’t face cultural pressures over the sex of their baby – is the first to show that women who give birth to boys are more likely to suffer from severe PND and reduced quality of life. Further research is needed to find out why this happens.”
My friend Suzanne just sent me this and it makes me feel bad. I love, love, love my boys. And by having sons, it has opened up an entire world to me that I wouldn't know had I only had daughters. But I've never quite been able to shed the sense of loss or failure that I feel over not having a girl. I never even realized I wanted a girl until I didn't have one. I feel guilty, of course, for saying these things. That somehow by admitting it, that it lessens the love I feel for my boys. I've always thought that God must feel I didn't deserve a girl, that somehow I'd just fuck her up the way my mom did to me. Stupid, huh?
Anyway, Suzanne sent me the article below. I'll try to find and post a link to the actual story later.
from the UK Telegraph
Boys 'lead to more post-natal depression'
By Rebecca Smith, Medical Editor
Last Updated: 5:58pm GMT 13/02/2008
Women who give birth to boys are more likely to suffer post-natal depression than those having daughters, a study has found.
Having a son is 'more likely to reduce quality of life'
Research carried out in France found three quarters of women who were diagnosed with severe post-natal depression had sons.
Even if the mother had not been diagnosed as depressed, having a son was significantly more likely to reduce their quality of life compared to mothers of girls, according to the research which was published in the Journal of Clinical Nursing.
A team of researchers led by Professor Claude de Tychey, from Université Nancy, France, studied 181 women from a community where there were no cultural pressures about the sex of children.
All the women were aged 19 to 40, with 52 per cent of the total giving birth to boys and 48 per cent giving birth to girls.
A third had signs of post natal depression when interviewed one to two months after the birth and nine per cent had severe symptoms.
Prof de Tychey said: “When we launched our research, our main aim was to study the effect that gender has on PND.
But the overwhelming finding of the study was the fact that gender appears to play a significant role in reduced quality of life as well as an increased chance of severe PND.”
They also found women who had given birth to a boy reported lower quality of life scores in 70 per cent of cases compared with women who had delivered a girl, regardless of whether they suffered from post-natal depression. In women who did not have depression, mothers of sons had lower quality of life scores in nine out of the 10 categories.
“These figures show very clearly that having a boy resulted in lower quality of life scores in all cases” says Professor de Tychey.
“We also discovered that being a first-time mother had no effect on quality of life scores.
Women had the same general scores regardless of whether the recent birth was their first or second baby.” The study also found that women who had a daughter as their first child were more likely to have a second baby than those who had a boy first.
Prof Tychey said: “Previous studies have shown that women who live in cultures where greater value is placed on sons are more likely to suffer from PND if they give birth to a girl.
“However, we believe that this study – carried out in a French community where women didn’t face cultural pressures over the sex of their baby – is the first to show that women who give birth to boys are more likely to suffer from severe PND and reduced quality of life. Further research is needed to find out why this happens.”
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
I am Superman
Brendan has been coming up with so many cute and funny things lately that it has been hard to keep them all in mind when I want to share them.
First, he has a really funny thing he says and I've started saying it around here at home because I think it's really hilarious. Sometimes I'll ask him to help me out by taking something to his room or to hand something to his brother. If he already has his hands full, he'll say, I'm sorry, Mommy. I can't...I'm full of hands.
On Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday, he came home from pre-K and announced that it was King Martin's birthday, leaving me with an image of a smiling MLK wearing a crown and blowing a party horn. He learned a lot about MLK between his actual birthday and the day we honor him. His class saw two films about him and went to a special assembly. When school was out on MLK Day, I made French toast for breakfast. Realizing I had no powdered sugar to go on the French toast, I put green sugar sprinkles on it instead. Brendan was excited and I told him it was a special treat for MLK day. A few minutes later, Brendan is screaming for me. When I came back to the kitchen, he tells me, Mommy, Beckett's eating my Martin Luther King French toast! This time the image that came to mind was a piece of French toast with MLK's image on it, like the Mary toast.
His most recent act of interest has been to come up with his own superhero identity, complete with an archnemesis.
As we were driving a few days ago, he told me that he is really Glue Guy. His superpower is glue. He can shoot glue from his fingertips to stop bad guys and he can use his sticky fingertips to climb. He acquired his superpowers in class one day when he accidentally spilled some magic glue that he had found in a cabinet on himself while doing an art project. It turned him into Glue Guy.
His archenemy is Gorilla Guy. Less than 3 feet tall, Gorilla Guy, aka Beckett, stalks and chases Glue Guy, stealing his things and smearing the remnants of his favorite food – bananas! – all over Glue Guy's stuff.
I must say, I was duly impressed with my proto-geek's imagination. His love of all things super and his imagination just make me think there's a career awaiting him in the world of comics. And that would be just fine.
First, he has a really funny thing he says and I've started saying it around here at home because I think it's really hilarious. Sometimes I'll ask him to help me out by taking something to his room or to hand something to his brother. If he already has his hands full, he'll say, I'm sorry, Mommy. I can't...I'm full of hands.
On Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday, he came home from pre-K and announced that it was King Martin's birthday, leaving me with an image of a smiling MLK wearing a crown and blowing a party horn. He learned a lot about MLK between his actual birthday and the day we honor him. His class saw two films about him and went to a special assembly. When school was out on MLK Day, I made French toast for breakfast. Realizing I had no powdered sugar to go on the French toast, I put green sugar sprinkles on it instead. Brendan was excited and I told him it was a special treat for MLK day. A few minutes later, Brendan is screaming for me. When I came back to the kitchen, he tells me, Mommy, Beckett's eating my Martin Luther King French toast! This time the image that came to mind was a piece of French toast with MLK's image on it, like the Mary toast.
His most recent act of interest has been to come up with his own superhero identity, complete with an archnemesis.
As we were driving a few days ago, he told me that he is really Glue Guy. His superpower is glue. He can shoot glue from his fingertips to stop bad guys and he can use his sticky fingertips to climb. He acquired his superpowers in class one day when he accidentally spilled some magic glue that he had found in a cabinet on himself while doing an art project. It turned him into Glue Guy.
His archenemy is Gorilla Guy. Less than 3 feet tall, Gorilla Guy, aka Beckett, stalks and chases Glue Guy, stealing his things and smearing the remnants of his favorite food – bananas! – all over Glue Guy's stuff.
I must say, I was duly impressed with my proto-geek's imagination. His love of all things super and his imagination just make me think there's a career awaiting him in the world of comics. And that would be just fine.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Creep
After Meredith Emerson's murder and the revelation that a potential serial killer had been roaming throughout North Georgia the last few years, self-defense classes popped up throughout the Metro like mushrooms in March. I think there were a lot of one-off classes designed to just give the attendees a few basic ideas of what to do if they're attacked.
This past Sunday, I had the pleasure of attending a real martial arts-based self-defense class taught by a black belt in Tae Kwan Do. My friend Barrett has been attending the class for a few weeks now and asked me to go with her. I loved the class and am eager to go back. The instructor's focus seemed to be very much on empowering the women in the class and helping them to believe in their own abilities to defend themselves should they find themselves in a dangerous situation. I am eager to go back.
Especially since yesterday, I thought I might have cause to use my newly acquired, but limited knowledge of self-defense.
After picking Brendan up from school, I took the boys to Target to pick up some Valentine's goodies for Brendan's friends. While we were shopping, I noticed a strange-looking man staring at me as he walked toward us. He passed us, then I noticed him turn and begin following us. When I stopped to look at some shoes, he passed us and stopped within sight and kept glancing over at us.
I didn't want to freak out at that point and we kept shopping and I didn't notice him again until we were leaving. Suddenly, he came out of nowhere and began following us again. It was like he had been waiting around the exit for us.
So, he followed us out of the store and my first thought was landing a kick in the center of his chest. My next thought was finding someone to tell. As I was debating going back into the store, I saw two young men who had just parked next to my car coming toward the store. I stopped them and asked if they would mind waiting on the sidewalk until I loaded the boys in the car. As soon as he saw me talking to these two young man (who I think thought I was the crazy one), he turned and went in the opposite direction. I was so flustered that I left my shopping bag in the cart on the sidewalk and had to go back for it.
As I was leaving, I saw a security guard patrolling the parking lot and told him what had happened and he said he'd check it out.
Maybe I overreacted, but maybe not. It's just like when Barrett accidentally popped the instructor in the nose with her knee while he was demonstrating a technique. It was a little uncomfortable at the moment, but perhaps that pain saves her life one day. If my discomfort and embarrassment at seeming paranoid keeps Creepy McCreeperson from Target -stalking someone else, I've done something positive.
This past Sunday, I had the pleasure of attending a real martial arts-based self-defense class taught by a black belt in Tae Kwan Do. My friend Barrett has been attending the class for a few weeks now and asked me to go with her. I loved the class and am eager to go back. The instructor's focus seemed to be very much on empowering the women in the class and helping them to believe in their own abilities to defend themselves should they find themselves in a dangerous situation. I am eager to go back.
Especially since yesterday, I thought I might have cause to use my newly acquired, but limited knowledge of self-defense.
After picking Brendan up from school, I took the boys to Target to pick up some Valentine's goodies for Brendan's friends. While we were shopping, I noticed a strange-looking man staring at me as he walked toward us. He passed us, then I noticed him turn and begin following us. When I stopped to look at some shoes, he passed us and stopped within sight and kept glancing over at us.
I didn't want to freak out at that point and we kept shopping and I didn't notice him again until we were leaving. Suddenly, he came out of nowhere and began following us again. It was like he had been waiting around the exit for us.
So, he followed us out of the store and my first thought was landing a kick in the center of his chest. My next thought was finding someone to tell. As I was debating going back into the store, I saw two young men who had just parked next to my car coming toward the store. I stopped them and asked if they would mind waiting on the sidewalk until I loaded the boys in the car. As soon as he saw me talking to these two young man (who I think thought I was the crazy one), he turned and went in the opposite direction. I was so flustered that I left my shopping bag in the cart on the sidewalk and had to go back for it.
As I was leaving, I saw a security guard patrolling the parking lot and told him what had happened and he said he'd check it out.
Maybe I overreacted, but maybe not. It's just like when Barrett accidentally popped the instructor in the nose with her knee while he was demonstrating a technique. It was a little uncomfortable at the moment, but perhaps that pain saves her life one day. If my discomfort and embarrassment at seeming paranoid keeps Creepy McCreeperson from Target -stalking someone else, I've done something positive.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Faces & Names
I really want to like Brendan's pre-K teacher and not be critical of her. I definitely never criticize her in front of him and I encourage him to like her.
But I swear, she's driving me nuts.
Seven months into the school year and she is still calling him the wrong name. She calls him Brandon instead of Brendan. When she writes his name, she spells it B-R-E-N-D-O-N.
Usually, in the mornings, I'm rushing. This is my fault. But, most mornings, I don't get to take my shower and dress in anything nicer than sweats until after I get Brendan to school and Beckett down for a nap. The days when I do shower, dress nicely, and do my hair and face before going into the school, the teacher always makes a big deal over my appearance and tells me that I should always wear makeup. I get it. I know I look a lot better when I'm done up. Don't we all? But I think it's kind of rude to tell someone that and to tell them that as often as she has told me.
I asked her if I could bring cupcakes to the class for Brendan's birthday. His birthday was on Saturday and I asked if I could bring cupcakes on Monday or Tuesday. She said either day would be fine, just show up right after naptime. So, on Tuesday morning, I told her I'd be back with cupcakes that afternoon. But when I showed up she acted totally surprised and even asked me if I had told her I was coming! ARGH!
The thing is...she comes across as being very sweet and friendly. I just don't know how to respond to her. So, I just take it. But I feel like my son is getting shafted by being in her class and I don't have high hopes for the rest of his elementary school career if this is how we're starting off.
I wish I could volunteer in the class more to get a feel for how things are on a day-to-day basis, but with Beckett I just can't. What would I do with him?
Maybe I'm just overreacting. I don't know. I loved school, but I know that bad teachers or teachers who did not respond well to me always made me insecure and made me hate going to school. And I know not every teacher is going to like my kid. What's weird is that this teacher seems to love my kid. She always tells me how sweet he is and how good he is. He never gets into trouble.
I suppose it's just my high expectations that a teacher should be able to pronounce and spell a name that is not that unusual. She manages to pronounce and spell Kaif correctly. Is Brendan really that hard?
But I swear, she's driving me nuts.
Seven months into the school year and she is still calling him the wrong name. She calls him Brandon instead of Brendan. When she writes his name, she spells it B-R-E-N-D-O-N.
Usually, in the mornings, I'm rushing. This is my fault. But, most mornings, I don't get to take my shower and dress in anything nicer than sweats until after I get Brendan to school and Beckett down for a nap. The days when I do shower, dress nicely, and do my hair and face before going into the school, the teacher always makes a big deal over my appearance and tells me that I should always wear makeup. I get it. I know I look a lot better when I'm done up. Don't we all? But I think it's kind of rude to tell someone that and to tell them that as often as she has told me.
I asked her if I could bring cupcakes to the class for Brendan's birthday. His birthday was on Saturday and I asked if I could bring cupcakes on Monday or Tuesday. She said either day would be fine, just show up right after naptime. So, on Tuesday morning, I told her I'd be back with cupcakes that afternoon. But when I showed up she acted totally surprised and even asked me if I had told her I was coming! ARGH!
The thing is...she comes across as being very sweet and friendly. I just don't know how to respond to her. So, I just take it. But I feel like my son is getting shafted by being in her class and I don't have high hopes for the rest of his elementary school career if this is how we're starting off.
I wish I could volunteer in the class more to get a feel for how things are on a day-to-day basis, but with Beckett I just can't. What would I do with him?
Maybe I'm just overreacting. I don't know. I loved school, but I know that bad teachers or teachers who did not respond well to me always made me insecure and made me hate going to school. And I know not every teacher is going to like my kid. What's weird is that this teacher seems to love my kid. She always tells me how sweet he is and how good he is. He never gets into trouble.
I suppose it's just my high expectations that a teacher should be able to pronounce and spell a name that is not that unusual. She manages to pronounce and spell Kaif correctly. Is Brendan really that hard?
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