Monday, Monday

I know I'm doing a lousy job of keeping this blog up, but my job as mother/maid/cook/chauffeur/errandgirl/laundress/mediator/servant is really taking a toll on me these days. My daughter's quick power naps combined with her need to destroy all that she sees is making life quite difficult. I honestly think that a team of handlers would be more efficient on her.

To illustrate this point, let me tell you about my morning so far.

My daughter woke up at 5:45 a.m. ready to go.

Ready. To. Go.

No matter what we did, we couldn't get her back to sleep. My husband decided to go ahead and get ready for work, and I thought it might be helpful to bring her to bed with me. I was sure that the darkness and gentle rain outside would lull her back to sleep.

Ha.

We lay there for 20-30 seconds, then she begins to jump on the bed yelling, "a doggy says "woof, woof", over and over and over...

So, I turn on the tv and found Barney. (Not my favorite, but I needed something to distract her so that I could get ready.)

She watched it for a few minutes, until she discovered I was in the bathtub. Then, she starts throwing all her toys in there with me. Ever get hit in the head with a rubber duck? It hurts more than you would think.

I get out, dry off, and try to get dressed. Then, I discover my daughter playing with my bra that was hanging on a doorknob. She was actually using it to swing from side-to-side like Tarzan in the jungle.

So, these kinds of antics went on for a while until it was time to wake my son for school. She gladly helped with that as well.

In order to get breakfast, my son's snack for school, and coffee made (very important!), I had to buckle my daughter to her booster seat at the table. So, that meant that she screamed and cried the entire time she was there. Do you know what it's like to try and do your morning routine while someone's screaming? It can affect your focus tremendously.

Finally, we get out the door, my son gets to school, and we get back home.

And, yes, my daughter is back in bed. For the sake of my own sanity, she had to go. There was no choice.

For now, there's nothing but the sound of silence and smell of coffee.

Aaaahhhhh

Morning Surprise

I just can't go back in there right now.

I know I need to, but I have to take a break.

The smell is... is... indescribable. I think that Pelosi and Congress should seriously look into this as a potential alternative for breaking terrorists. No -wait -it's actually probably considered too cruel under the Constitution.

Sometime last night, my son threw up. No, he didn't throw up -he exploded! It's everywhere. All over the wall, through the mattress, down the side of the bed, and obviously on the floor.

I opened the door to his room this morning and the smell hit me -actually hit me in the face. I don't know how he slept in there.

I asked him when happened last night, and why didn't he come and get us. He had no idea what I was talking about. I told him that he threw up, and he denied it. Well... he denied it until I showed him the obvious evidence. He just looked totally confused! Apparently, he was coughing last night and threw up, all while fast asleep. He does that sometimes -gets a tickle in his throat and then ... well... it happens.

He said he felt fine now, so I sent him to school. He had no fever, and he even ate this morning. I think he just has a very sensitive gag reflex.

Alright, I'm going back in there. It has to be done. I sprayed Oust everywhere and lit a big Glade candle.

He needs to have a nice, fresh, clean room when he comes home.

I can do this.

Napping All Day

I don't know what happened today, but I fell asleep every time I sat down. Now I'm way behind -way, way behind on everything -even more than usual.

I'm going to say that the sleepiness was from the allergy medication I took last night that didn't quite get out of my system.

The truth is that it's probably payback for all the years I spent making fun of my mother for this very same thing.

I don't think she's made it through an entire movie in the last 20 years. She would wake up after the movie was over saying, "What happened? What happened? I missed it!"

Then would come the inevitable groan and, "I never get to see the whole movie.... I'm going to bed."

And she would. After napping all evening, she would get up and go to bed and sleep eight hours. We always wondered if she was part cat. And I would laugh at her for it.

And now it's come back to haunt me.

But get this -I'm not sleepy now. I'll probably be up until 4 a.m. annoyed at myself for catching naps all day today.

Or I can just take some more allergy medication now and hope for the best.

Yes, I think that's what I'll do.

Friday, Part II

Later, that same afternoon...

My son rushes into the house from playing outside with all the neighborhood kids and asks me, "what's the "f" word?"

Ok, so I'm thinking I'm going to pass out, because I'm so NOT prepared to answer this question. I look at my watch. My husband hasn't even left work yet. Great. I'm in this one alone.

Me: "Why do you ask?" I've found this to be an effective first question.

He launches into this huge story of some high school kid outside that actually said the phrase "the "f" word" -not THE actual word, so that is somewhat of a relief. I mean, I realize I can't protect him from this forever, but he's seven. I thought I had a couple more years.

Anyway, one of the kids told a parent, then the parent came out and there was apparently some big scene outside. (How do I miss everything?) The parent asked all the kids who said it, and they all shook their heads "no", and I guess someone mentioned the high schooler. Then there was this "mom showdown" outside with the high schooler's mom and the parent. My son came home after that.

(I realize my son makes up things (see earlier post on "pregnancy"), but this was the truth... I don't think he could make something up that was this elaborate.)

Then, he asked me again what the word was.

Him: "Do you know what it is?"

Me: "Uh...um...." (I'm so good at stalling. Just so very good.) "I have an idea, but I'm not sure."

Ok, here's my reasoning on that answer. If I said "yes", he'd ask over and over and over what it is. I was hoping he'd back off, if I appeared unsure.

Him: "Can you call Daddy? I bet he would know."

So much for hoping he'll back off.

So, I go into this whole -there are certain words that aren't nice to say and they make you appear not-so-smart if you say them. (I knew that would get him, because he's big on being "smart".)

Him: "Oh, it's a word like "hate" and "stupid".

Since, I don't like him to use words like that (at least in reference to people), I was willing to go along with this.

Me: "That's right. It's just not nice. You are going to hear that word and several others (probably ones I've never heard) in years to come. Try to ignore it. Oh, and don't go around asking people what the "f" word is. It's just not something people really want to talk about."

The good news is that after this conversation was over, he never brought it up again this weekend.

I will be the first to admit that I have absolutely no idea how to handle that problem, so if I totally screwed up and said the wrong thing, then I'm sure I'll have another chance (unfortunately) in the near future to possibly get it right. Until then, I'll just give this whole ordeal a little more thought.

How's the Pregnancy?

Friday was a fun day. Really. Fun.

First, I go to the bus stop to pick up my son and another mom pulls her golf cart beside mine.

Her: "So, I hear you're pregnant."

Me: Mouth open... nothing coming out.

(I look down at my stomach realizing I've gained a little weight, but... I don't think I'm at that point yet.)

Me: Finally catching my breath "Uh... no"

Her: "Oh, you're not?! I'm sorry. Your son told my son that you were going to have another baby."

(Big sigh)

Me: "No. I can assure you, I am not. I would be in a strait jacket right now if I even thought I might be."

Her: "Why would he say that?"

Me: "Because he made a comment the other day that I looked like I had a baby in my stomach, and he thought he was really funny. I reacted, which he thought was even more hillarious. So, I'm going to assume that he was trying to be funny again."

Her: "Oh. Well, you don't look pregnant."

Yeah...nice save there.

Me: "He also tells my husband that HE looks like he has a baby in his stomach, so just don't listen to him."

She just laughs.

My son gets off the bus. We both confront him. He laughs like he's the funniest person on earth. I just roll my eyes.

There will be no more children. I'm quite sure of that.

My Big Mess

I had my hair cut on Saturday.

I thought it looked pretty good (about as good as it's going to get). My son had a different view.

Him: "What happened to your hair?"

Me: "I got it cut. Do you like it?"

Him: "It looks like a big mess."

(silence)

Me: "Thanks."

And he's made a comment EVERY day since then.

For a little boy who talks constantly about how much he likes girls and how much he wants to get married ("Mommy, can't I marry two at the same time?!!), he really, REALLY needs to learn how to talk to women.

Otherwise, he's going to end up living with us for the rest of his life.

And that is SO not an option.

True Beauty

Thank goodness, I don't have to go anywhere today.

Lately, it's just been a chore to get out of this house. I've gained a few pounds, so trying to find something to wear (that doesn't include sweatpants or shorts) that doesn't cut off my circulation is a huge burden. I mean I don't think I'm large enough that the Discovery Channel will be wanting to do a documentary on me, but I'm headed into a bad area.

You know that area -where you are forced to buy new clothes because the old ones are too small. ...(sigh)... I hate that area. There's nothing worse than opening your closet and seeing clothes that no longer fit around all your fat. Yet, you hang onto them in hopes -HOPES -that one day, on a whim, you'll pull them off the hanger and -tada -they'll magically be a perfect fit. (Even better, though, if those clothes become too big. Being forced to buy new clothes because the old ones are too big is a euphoric experience.)

It's not just gaining a few pounds, though. I just feel "blah". Doesn't everyone go through that?

I'm hoping that getting my hair cut tomorrow is going to somehow transform me from frumpy to goddess. (Or just not-so-frumpy. I'll settle for any step in the right direction.)

It's on days like this, that I think about this girl that attended college with me -"C". (I obviously can't use her real name.)

Outwardly, "C" was quite an unattractive girl. She had frizzy hair, very crooked teeth, a scrawny body, and her skin was a deep day-glo orange from some sort of cheap self-tanner. But this girl possessed the most likeable personality that I've ever seen. She always had a smile on her face and something sweet to say to everyone. It was almost like she radiated positive energy everywhere she went. It was amazing just to watch her shine.

One of the first times I saw her, a boy leaned over to me and said, "Wow -that is one ugly girl." (Nice, huh? It's not as if teenage boys are known for their tact.)

About a month later, he joined her entourage as well.

She had such a charming way about her that, after time, you no longer saw anything but "beauty". She was the perfect example of "pretty is as pretty does".

Recently, I ran across her picture on Facebook. At first glance, I saw the out-of-control hair, crooked teeth, and skin still obviously being slathered with a poorly made self-tanner.

But it didn't take long for me to see what truly mattered- the kindness in her eyes and the smile on her face. Looking at her brought back the memories of a girl that had a real and true beauty.

Even more pronouced was the man with a huge smile on his face sitting next to her. I have no doubt that he feels very lucky to have her in his life.

Seeing "C" reminds me that real beauty exudes from your heart not from the mirror.

And I need quite a bit of reminding on days like this.

I Need a Vacation. Seriously.

Just another day of complete frustration. I need to get a new job ...something much easier... maybe work for the government again... :-)

First thing this morning, my daughter poured chocolate milk on my bed. Yes, poured it. On purpose. And, yes, that would include the comforter that I just had drycleaned.

Later, she threw an almost empty Snapple container on the floor immediately inside the front door. And, in case you didn't know -Snapple containers are made of glass.

That was fun.

There I was ... on my hands and knees picking up glass... with the front door wide open ...and the mail truck driving by. I'm sure I looked insane.

I'm probably going insane, so might as well look the part anyway.

Other fun things -hmmm... let's see... she poured pond water over her dress that she only had on for mere minutes. She ate part of an eraser. She tried to dig out the raw chicken packaging from the trash can, and... I don't know... eat that too, I guess.

Where am I during all this? I'm there. I'm right there. I'm always two steps behind (at least), but I'm there.

My son is still getting over his tonsilitis, so he didn't do too much today. Oh -except he told me that I can't cook, and he asked me if I had a baby in my belly because it looked like it was getting bigger.

This job just gets more rewarding every day.

I keep telling myself that, one day, my children will appreciate me. But, I wonder... is that really true or is that just part of being insane.

I guess only time will tell.

Go To Bed

I'm so tired.

My husband is still not home from work.

I'm just trying to survive until bedtime... only moments away.

If I don't get a vacation soon, I am honestly running away from home.

I'm serious.

This Morning

I'm exhausted today...just exhausted...

My daughter has been going non-stop. It's like someone put new batteries in her and set her on fullspeed.

Looking back, I know what I did wrong. I stopped to use the bathroom and that little "break" put me behind with her. While I'm in there, she's making a mess. I go out of the bathroom and clean up the mess. While I'm cleaning that mess, she makes another one. And so on and so on... It's just an endless cycle of fun.

Here's a sampling of my morning -She threw several large toys including a bridge from her brother's playset down the stairs, attempted to eat some hair gel (caught that one in time!), threw a plate of food onto the kitchen floor while I was on my hands and knees mopping up a previous mess she had made just minutes earlier, pooped everywhere but the potty, and jumped on top of me and yelled "fight!" while I briefly laid on the floor. I will have to talk with dad about that last development, because I have a feeling he is somehow involved.

Later, I gave her some play-doh while I was throwing clothes into the washer and dryer. Well, she ate a nice chunk of that. That diaper should be interesting.

I finally got her down for a nap. I hope she stays down until my son gets home from school. That would be nice... a longshot... but nice.

Say It Isn't So

My daughter is refusing to nap which is sad, because I could really use a moment to just breathe. She's been running around all morning as if she's on a mission to tear down the house. I even stopped to check if she got a hold of the coffee grounds from the trash again while I was checking the laundry, but I saw no evidence.

I keep hoping she'll slow down ...just slow down, so that I can -if even for just five minutes - feel the comfort of a couch cushion on my butt. (Yes, I'm even standing while writing this -stopping every sentence or so to whisk her away from trouble.)

I truly, truly hope that naptime isn't coming to an end.

That would be so tragic.

Dealing With Conflict

With this recent preschool situation, I've become even more aware of the fact that I really need to learn to deal with conflict.

I've never been good at it. I would love to be one of those people that feels comfortable speaking their mind.

I just can't.

I'm too afraid of hurting someone's feelings... or looking stupid.

I've always been in awe of those people that just don't care. You know those people that have this sense of ease and confidence in expressing themselves... even when they are completely wrong.

My husband is like this. Actually, his entire family is like this. You know those times when people at the airport tick you off or a server is really rude, and you just want to tell them off but don't? Well, they do it. They say what you're thinking, and they don't hold back. It's really quite amazing to watch. I have to say, though, at times it can be a little embarrassing. My husband has turned to me a few times and said, "Alright. You may want to walk away, because I'm getting ready to lay into this person, and you probably don't want to see it."

I usually take his advice and leave. Although, I will have to see that being nice to people, even when they don't deserve it, can be a good thing. There have been several times when my husband has been in awe of me being able to diffuse a bad situation by just using an even tone and a smile. It can be very hard to do, but I have had some experience. Not only do I seem genetically prone to avoid a fight if at all possible, but I did work for the government for five years dealing with some absolute idiots both outside and inside the agency.

There are times, though, when niceness can't or won't sink in, and I've to stand up for myself. When that time comes, it can get ugly. I once had a friend tell me that I was one of the nicest people she knew until I was backed into a corner and felt I had to fight my way out. Even though that person I laid into deserved it, she said that she actually felt some pity for him, because I apparently unleashed some inner demon that she (or I) never knew existed. I guess I shocked both of us.

So, that's the whole problem. I'm either annoyingly nice or scary mean. How do you learn to achieve that perfect balance of feeling that you've properly addressed a problem and stood up for your rights while reigning it in and keeping your cool?

I have absolutely no idea, but I would seriously love to learn that.

Goodbye Preschool

When I walked into the preschool yesterday morning with my daughter, I told the director (who stopped me once again to talk about my daughter) that I wasn't bringing her back after this week.


You could actually see the relief flood into her face.


Then, she goes on to tell me that she still has that hair (in a baggie) that my daughter pulled from someone's head (um...why does she STILL have that?), and that she's already had to talk to parents about bald spots on their child's heads (which I looked for on Thursday, but didn't see). And then she followed that up with -"Oh, but I'm not trying to make you feel bad."


Really? You're not? Because what exactly is the purpose of telling me all this AFTER I've already told you I'm taking my daughter out?! What do you expect me to say or do? Am I supposed to thank you for this information? No, it only makes me feel worse about a behavior that I can't control by a two-year-old that can barely put two words together in a sentence!


No, I didn't say all that. I would have liked to, but my ability to face confrontation is limited to my family. (Sorry family.) I just simply told her to talk to my husband, because I didn't want to deal with it anymore, and that I needed to go.


But, see the more I sat in the waiting room of my doctor's office yesterday, the more I thought about what she said, and how "ambushed" I feel every single time I walk into that building whether I'm taking my daughter to school or picking her up. The whole ordeal was just adding stress, and who needs that?

I had assured this woman over and over that I disciplined my daughter at home (when she did this), and told her exactly what I did. I showed her and the teachers what I did. I told them I talked with her doctor. I stayed in my daughter's class and helped out (this year and last year). I listened to everything they said to me this year and the last few of months she went to school last year, and attempted to follow every instruction and request.

So, my question is -What else am I supposed to do?!

The bottomline is that I'm doing the best that I can, but I walk away from these moments feeling like a failure as a parent. I don't want her to hurt anyone or cause them to be frightened, and I don't want anyone to think she's being deliberately malicious. All I wanted was for them to work with us (like they said they would) and maybe leave a note in her bag for me to see about her progress. If it's getting worse, then -yes, let me know! But, the teachers say it's already getting better. Does the director stop and tell me that? No. That I could listen to. Instead, it's just rehashing of incidents last year or of the first day of school or that creepy bag of hair she carries around. It's all just a little too much for me.

So, after my doctor's appointment (which was largely in part due to some problems I'm having from stress in my life -not just from the school, but a few other things), I decided to go back to the school and pick up my daughter... for good.


I know that taking her away from the situation, isn't going to "fix" her problem, but I don't feel comfortable keeping her there. After Christmas, we may look for a different school for her to attend... or not... we'll just see.

I know that she'll soon grow out of this stage. Maybe she just needs to be with me right now.


I already feel better knowing I'll be with her.

Tired

Today's been a long day, so -if you don't mind -I'm just going to take a bath and go to bed.

Yeah, I know it's just 7:30, but I'm exhausted. Getting bombarded with criticism and attitude all day is just as exhausting as running a marathon. (...like I've EVER run a marathon!)

Waiting For Tomorrow

It's nearly 9 p.m., and I've finally made it on here.

Not much to say except that I'm dreading tomorrow when my daughter's school receives her presence again. I'm going to try and stick around for a while just to corral her. I'm hoping I don't have to stay the whole time, but if I do, then I do. At least, I'd actually be helping then, instead of just sitting home and worrying about the situation.

So, yes, I've honestly spent most of today worrying about tomorrow. What a complete waste that was, yet I just couldn't help it.

Now, I just want to get tomorrow morning over with.

For me, this is not "Mommy's Morning Out". It's more of a "Mommy's Morning Out of Her Mind".

I have to stop worrying about everything.

Yes. That would be nice.

Today, So Far

My daughter's day at school was even worse than I had imagined. (Let me tell you -that's hard to do. Usually imagining the very worst possible scenario is something I have down to an art form.)

I want to pull her out before she can inflict any more torture. My husband wants to keep her in, so that she can learn. (For the record, my best friend agrees with my husband.)

Yes, I see their point. It's just really hard to get over that huge wad of hair that was shown to me that my daughter had pulled out of some girl's head. Words can't even express how bad that was. I can't even imagine what that little girl felt.

So now it looks like she'll stay (temporarily), but I will stay with her the entire time -ready to pull her out of the situation at the first sign of attack. Other than that, I have no idea what to do.

I had been very upset and crying when I realized it was time to get my son from the bus. I pulled myself together the best I could and waited for him at the stop.

As usual, I asked him about his day at school.

Me: "Who did you play with at recess?"

Him: "This kid."

o...k...

Me: "Which kid?"

Him: "I don't know. I was playing with this kid and running around, and his pants fell down."

Me: "What?"

Him: "His pants fell down to his ankles, and then he fell over them!"

Me: "That's awful!"

Him: "Yeah, I know. I laughed really hard."

Me: "You laughed at that kid?"

Him: "Sure! It was funny! He laughed, too!"

And then he started laughing again. Then, I started laughing.

If I ever get to meet that kid with the loose pants, I'm going to thank him for putting a smile on my face -even if it was just for a few moments.

Waiting for the Call

My daughter has been at school for almost two hours.

I haven't been called... yet... but I'm waiting for it.

Meanwhile, maybe I can actually clean out my son's closet or mop the floors.

Wow -I live one exciting life.

"Hope for the Best, But Prepare for the Worst." English Proverb

I took my daughter to her preschool orientation today, and we already have problems.

I left my daughter in her classroom with her teachers while I was being briefed with the rest of the parents on procedures. As soon as I walked out of that room, I spotted an office worker holding her.

She had pulled three or four children's hair (hard!), so they took her out for a "break". At one point, she had even pulled some hair out.

Great.

A few months ago, when my daughter started all this hair pulling and pinching, it was only when she was sick or on medication. Slowly, it became her actual behavior instead of her "off" behavior. I don't know what happened.

I ended up taking her out of school, because (1) maybe a change in environment would help(?), (2) there was no point of having her in school when I kept having to get her early -the most important reason -(3) I didn't want to see anyone get hurt.

So, now it's starting all over. I received another talk on how things are handled at home and 'have you talked to the doctor about it', 'think you could read some information about it', etc.

I am not dealing with this again. I didn't want her in school to begin with. I felt she needed out of this "terrible twos" before it should even be considered. My husband, on the other hand, feels it will help more for her to be around other children. Possibly... but I hate walking into the school and feeling like -"Oh, no... there's that woman with that mean child again. Why doesn't she do something about her behavior?"

I just want to cry. I dread this. I dread this entire situation. I'm giving it one month. That's it. If things are not improved (and, yes, we do our best to curb and discipline this behavior at home), then I'm taking her out for the rest of the year.

I keep telling myself that -technically, she doesn't have to go to school until kindergarten, so we have a few more years to work on this.

Unfortunately, I have no idea how what else to try.

My Morning with Ms. Destruction

Have you ever had one of those days where you've made plans, but just can't seem to get out the door? How about when your only daily accomplishment seems to be getting out of bed?

That's me... today.

No...that's me...most days.

I had "big" plans for today. Because my son is still not feeling the best, I was going to run by Blockbuster and pick up a "Phineas and Ferb" video for him. Then, I was going to Kmart to buy some Loreal Preference to hide some seriously grey roots. After that, the park... then, maybe Taco Bell and back home.

Know what I completed from that list?

We went to Taco Bell.

Sad? Yes. Surprising? No

Here's what happened:

I had my daughter all dressed this morning. She had on this new floral jumpsuit with matching hairbow. I, on the other hand, had just spilled coffee on myself and needed to change. So, I step into the closet for -at the most! - two minutes for a clean shirt.

I peeked into the bedroom where, just two minutes earlier, I had left my daughter on the bed watching Elmo.

She wasn't there.

No, she was by the side of the bed pouring out a small bottle of KY onto the floor and into her hands. Then, she put her hand in her mouth and drank some of it.

I freaked out and grabbed her. I took her downstairs, wiped her off, checked her mouth, gave her a drink, then called my friend at work.

Me: "My daughter just drank a little KY... what do I do?!"

*Laughter*

She checked online for me and said it should be fine. Then, she told me to call the company and ask them directly.

So, I go upstairs with a towel, my daughter, her milk, and the phone. My daughter threw the chocolate milk down the steps, where the lid leaked everywhere. (No luck with chocolate milk lately.) Now, I have to clean the mess in the bedroom and on the steps -all while trying to keep track of Little Ms. Destruction.

Several minutes later, I called the company. I was surprised to find that they have a nurse on staff constantly handling these kinds of calls.

Me: "I'm calling about my daughter. She just drank a little KY... what do I do?"

*Laughter*

Nurse: "It's water-based. She'll be fine."

Me: "Oh, good -thanks."

Nurse: "Would you like to be on our mailing list?"

Me: "Um... no thanks, I'll pass."

*More laughter*

So, by the time I get it all straightened out, it just wasn't worth the effort to go anywhere. I had not only lost time, but my motivation as well.

And, yes, I'm still in the shirt with the coffee stain.

Honestly, I don't even care about it anymore.

Back to School

My son went to school today.

I didn't want him to go. I thought it would be better for him to stay home and get some rest. Oh, no -he was determined to be there and not miss a thing.

I told him to tell the teacher if he doesn't feel well, and I will come and get him.

All I heard in return was, "Ok, ok... come on...I don't want to be late."

So off we went.

Hopefully, there will be no problems.