Have you figured out what you, and/or your children, and/or your pets are going to be on Oct 31st? (Luckily, we only need to dress up the kids, as DH hates grown-up costume parties with some serious passion.) Just curious - are there any similar costume festivities in Italy, Denmark, or France?
My son first decided he wanted to be a pumpkin for Halloween (but I figured he just might change his mind everyday). So I went off to the thrift store and just so happened to find the perfect pumpkin suit in a 4T (the exact size which my supertall 2.5 year old has been wearing for awhile now), plus a warm and cozy looking little ladybug outfit for our one year old daughter. I'm feeling like a winner.
I bring all of my loot home, feeling great about having the costumes figured out so far in advance, and all for only $5!! Then DH had to go and burst my bubble saying, "Oh hell no! My son is not wearing that thing!" Apparently, he was concerned about his masculinity. Um, he's not even 3 yet. Ok whatever. I suppose he is entitled to one fashion veto a year. But the trouble is, I want to keep DS looking little and cuddly for as long as I can. He's going to say he wants to be something more big boy and tough and violence-prone probably way too soon for me. And lord help me the day he finds out you can actually dress up as one of the characters from "Soy Glory."
We went back to the drawing board, and asked DS again what he wants to be for Halloween. (Actually he said "a pumpkin" like 4 more times, but DH pretended not to hear and I just smirked.)
"Um, I want to be a green frog and a super man." Where do they come up with this stuff? Pretty sure I won't be able to find that combination in a 4T at Tarjay or Wally World. And I can't sew. So I made another trip to the thrift store.
And guess what was on the rack right next to a size 4T (!!!) frog suit? A superman cape! Done and done, bitches. Like it was meant to be. I love me some thrifting like Tiger Woods loves Hooters waitresses.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
Dealing Compassionately with Bat Shit Crazy
Long story short, there is a woman who has stopped by my kid's preschool twice, unexpectedly, to ask the teacher for copies of any old school records of her son's, whom she claims attended the preschool about 5 years ago. Word on the street in our small town is that this woman suffers from some sort of mental illness. (I g00gled her and found out some disturbing shit, but I digress.) Turns out her son never officially attended the school, but he sat in on a class with her once.
Then parents at the school started gossiping. Now some members of the preschool's Board are wondering if filing a restraining order would help keep everyone safe.
I think they are right to be a little freaked out at a gut-level, but I feel that perhaps they are jumping the gun with all the restraining order talk. The fact is, she may be bat shit crazy, but she has technically done nothing wrong: she showed up 2 times so far, both were times when the Board was meeting and the public was invited. Not during class times when kids were present. Not at times when members of the public were uninvited.
My personal feeling is that sometimes, when it comes to the mentally ill (i.e. people like this who blog about the CIA coming after them at the doctor's office, and who also have lawsuits pending against the city, the police dept, the fire dept, her son's foster family, etc) restraining orders don't necessarily work like magic at keeping them away. I understand the knee-jerk, mama bear reaction is to come at her with proverbial guns blazing. But I wonder if that would be counterproductive, and would just inflame the situation.
I just feel bad for her, and for people like her. If the truly insane don't know they are insane, then what an incredibly horrible existence. To actually believe g-men are coming for you, and that your kid was taken away for no good reason, and that no one believes you?? Holy hell that would be so unimaginably awful. Thank the lawd for mental health... even if I don't always have as firm a grip on it as I would like.
Part of me thinks we should re-think our current social policy of letting the mentally ill roam around unmedicated, too often creating real problems and harrassing people. My mom always talks about the old state homes they used to have - full of awful abuses too, no doubt. But the alternative need not be a scene from "Shock Corridor." I realize there were coercive mis-institutionalizations. Surely we can do better.
Then parents at the school started gossiping. Now some members of the preschool's Board are wondering if filing a restraining order would help keep everyone safe.
I think they are right to be a little freaked out at a gut-level, but I feel that perhaps they are jumping the gun with all the restraining order talk. The fact is, she may be bat shit crazy, but she has technically done nothing wrong: she showed up 2 times so far, both were times when the Board was meeting and the public was invited. Not during class times when kids were present. Not at times when members of the public were uninvited.
My personal feeling is that sometimes, when it comes to the mentally ill (i.e. people like this who blog about the CIA coming after them at the doctor's office, and who also have lawsuits pending against the city, the police dept, the fire dept, her son's foster family, etc) restraining orders don't necessarily work like magic at keeping them away. I understand the knee-jerk, mama bear reaction is to come at her with proverbial guns blazing. But I wonder if that would be counterproductive, and would just inflame the situation.
I just feel bad for her, and for people like her. If the truly insane don't know they are insane, then what an incredibly horrible existence. To actually believe g-men are coming for you, and that your kid was taken away for no good reason, and that no one believes you?? Holy hell that would be so unimaginably awful. Thank the lawd for mental health... even if I don't always have as firm a grip on it as I would like.
Part of me thinks we should re-think our current social policy of letting the mentally ill roam around unmedicated, too often creating real problems and harrassing people. My mom always talks about the old state homes they used to have - full of awful abuses too, no doubt. But the alternative need not be a scene from "Shock Corridor." I realize there were coercive mis-institutionalizations. Surely we can do better.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Maternal Failings... again
At 9am today, I took my almost-3-year old son to a toddler gymnastics class that he has been to many, many times and usually loves. But today he decided he didn't want to participate. At all. Both of the teachers kept trying to persuade him to join the other kids as they jumped, laughed and played. And honestly, I was feeling really angry that he wouldn't join in. And also embarrassed that all of these others kids his same age were able to be part of the fun class, and have a great time together, while my son sidelined himself and threw a tantrum about wanting to sit with me in the place where the grown-ups watch so he could play with the baby toys. I ended up taking him home early and gave him the silent treatment all the way home because I knew if I spoke I'd say something ugly.
My reaction really surprised me. I guess we have entered the Horrible 3's a few weeks early.
I hate the feeling that my kid has this shitty tendency to misbehave loudly, publicly, and to a seemingly greater degree than his peers. I feel like none of the many techniques we've tried have worked. It seems the only solution is to keep him home because that way, at least we're not feeling so humiliated about it (she typed as both of her children wailed and pulled at her feet....)
My reaction really surprised me. I guess we have entered the Horrible 3's a few weeks early.
I hate the feeling that my kid has this shitty tendency to misbehave loudly, publicly, and to a seemingly greater degree than his peers. I feel like none of the many techniques we've tried have worked. It seems the only solution is to keep him home because that way, at least we're not feeling so humiliated about it (she typed as both of her children wailed and pulled at her feet....)
Friday, September 17, 2010
Cheap, Battery-Powered Crap!
DS (who will turn 3 in late Oct) recently saw that popular animated movie trilogy that rhymes with "Soy Glory," and it is like toddler crack to the child. Which on the one hand is nice because if I need him to just sit for awhile while I take care of something uber important like food or changing an exploded shit-filled diaper, I can use it as a babysitter. But as it turns out, I created a monster, with several downsides...
First, it has caused some behavioral issues: "Soy Glory" taught him how to say "SHUT UP!" Which he says all the time and has become a Real Issue around here. Ok, so truthfully, he probably heard us saying it, too. But in the great American tradition, I'd rather blame The Media for all of my parenting failures.
Then came the introduction of the Cheap, Battery-Powered Crap featuring all of this movie trilogy's cast of licensed characters that started finding its way into our home. People found out DS liked the movies, so they keep giving him more of everything emblazoned with it. It's on helmets, and sippy cups, and Pull-ups, and potty seats, and butt wipes, and more Cheap Plastic Battery Powered Shizz! And it is even at the friggin' supermarket! DH came home from getting groceries with this Cheap Talking Stuffed "Fuzz Brightbeer" toy in tow, that cost about 1000 times more than it cost to make in China (so like $6). DS played with it so much the very first day that the batteries ran out. Oh holy hell. Not good. Not good at all people. Let's just say DS was pissed to the highest level of pisstivity that his beloved Fuzz had suddenly started "ignoring" him.
Time to change the batteries then. But wait, unlike other toys, this one was apparently designed to be thrown away after only a few weeks of play? There was no velcro opening to access the battery panel. So I had to pull out the cheap stitching and remove Fuzz's furry white innards to get at the battery pack, which was encased inside a fabric pocket that was sewn shut. Then I had to cut that mofo open, and find a tiny ass screwdriver to finally open it up. Then I see that instead of using the more popular toy battery sizes like AA or AAA that we coincidentally have loads of both in bulk and in rechargeable form, it requires 3 of those 1.5 volt round silver batteries.... The ones that mama can't find anywhere in Podunkville... except of course at the big box store that is FULL OF LICENSED CHARACTER SHIZZ FROM THE SAME MOVIE!! And that we can't take DS into because the temptation is just too great, and because I don't want to have to leave a cart full of stuff I didn't even need so I can carry a tantruming toddler back to the car to go home early. Thank gawd... without being reminded, DH saved the day by bringing some of the requisite batteries home one day. (He correctly sensed that the need was acute.) Luckily I had some no-sew Res-Q Tape on hand to put a freshly-batteried Fuzz back together again. The smile returned to my child's face as he hugged his cheap little friend tightly, and then scampered off into the sunset to play.
A friend of a now 7-year old girl was recently lamenting the fact that for years all of this Princess shizz kept somehow seeping into their house under the front door. Now I totally get what she was talking about. IT'S EVERYWHERE!! All of this marketing of cheap plastic crap, of fast food, etc to little kids using all of these licensed characters really is unsavory. Yet, short of keeping the kid at home all day with no TV - or running off into the woods - there is just no avoiding it. Or maybe there is avoiding it, but I am too lazy to do all of the rearranging of our lives that would make it possible. Like no TV.
First, it has caused some behavioral issues: "Soy Glory" taught him how to say "SHUT UP!" Which he says all the time and has become a Real Issue around here. Ok, so truthfully, he probably heard us saying it, too. But in the great American tradition, I'd rather blame The Media for all of my parenting failures.
Then came the introduction of the Cheap, Battery-Powered Crap featuring all of this movie trilogy's cast of licensed characters that started finding its way into our home. People found out DS liked the movies, so they keep giving him more of everything emblazoned with it. It's on helmets, and sippy cups, and Pull-ups, and potty seats, and butt wipes, and more Cheap Plastic Battery Powered Shizz! And it is even at the friggin' supermarket! DH came home from getting groceries with this Cheap Talking Stuffed "Fuzz Brightbeer" toy in tow, that cost about 1000 times more than it cost to make in China (so like $6). DS played with it so much the very first day that the batteries ran out. Oh holy hell. Not good. Not good at all people. Let's just say DS was pissed to the highest level of pisstivity that his beloved Fuzz had suddenly started "ignoring" him.
Time to change the batteries then. But wait, unlike other toys, this one was apparently designed to be thrown away after only a few weeks of play? There was no velcro opening to access the battery panel. So I had to pull out the cheap stitching and remove Fuzz's furry white innards to get at the battery pack, which was encased inside a fabric pocket that was sewn shut. Then I had to cut that mofo open, and find a tiny ass screwdriver to finally open it up. Then I see that instead of using the more popular toy battery sizes like AA or AAA that we coincidentally have loads of both in bulk and in rechargeable form, it requires 3 of those 1.5 volt round silver batteries.... The ones that mama can't find anywhere in Podunkville... except of course at the big box store that is FULL OF LICENSED CHARACTER SHIZZ FROM THE SAME MOVIE!! And that we can't take DS into because the temptation is just too great, and because I don't want to have to leave a cart full of stuff I didn't even need so I can carry a tantruming toddler back to the car to go home early. Thank gawd... without being reminded, DH saved the day by bringing some of the requisite batteries home one day. (He correctly sensed that the need was acute.) Luckily I had some no-sew Res-Q Tape on hand to put a freshly-batteried Fuzz back together again. The smile returned to my child's face as he hugged his cheap little friend tightly, and then scampered off into the sunset to play.
A friend of a now 7-year old girl was recently lamenting the fact that for years all of this Princess shizz kept somehow seeping into their house under the front door. Now I totally get what she was talking about. IT'S EVERYWHERE!! All of this marketing of cheap plastic crap, of fast food, etc to little kids using all of these licensed characters really is unsavory. Yet, short of keeping the kid at home all day with no TV - or running off into the woods - there is just no avoiding it. Or maybe there is avoiding it, but I am too lazy to do all of the rearranging of our lives that would make it possible. Like no TV.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
I Must Have Friendship Vaginosis
It is one of those rotten days for me, and for no good reason at all. I am really feeling like I am never going to have any real friends here. (For those who haven't heard me go on about this here before, I live in a place I call Podunkville, where everyone except for me & DH falls into one of 2 camps: 1) the uber-Christian, Fox News lovers who definitely wouldn't laugh at any of our jokes, and 2) the cool liberals who are extremely outdoorsy & don't really want to spend time with anyone who is not.)
Luckily, I have good friends elsewhere, which is something I should be grateful for. If I do ever find a real local friend, I will probably totally suffocate her because I will be so hyper-excited to be able to spend time locally with Someone Who Gets It for a fucking change. I just wish my dream of having a few close friends here wasn't something I perseverated on so much! I'm annoying to myself. Maybe the people with same-aged kids who are moving here next year will fit the bill. Maybe DS will meet someone with cool 'rents in his preschool class. I probably shouldn't get my hopes up though. The last time I got my hopes up it sucked. Remember Food Court Mama who seemed interested at first but then never called or emailed me back? Must be my vaginosis. I guess I shouldn't have worn a skirt that day.
I need to quit with the negative self-talk. I actually do have some friends, I think. Or I used to. In fact, a sweet older lady who helped us move here 2 years ago was saying this weekend how impressed she is that we have made so many connections so quickly. Fo' rizzle? So I guess we seem popular to people who don't know us very well, which is nuts. I'm not completely lonely, I suppose. Sure, there's Stitch, my one local friend who I can usually be my authentic self around. However, to be perfectly honest Stitch took a step back from me this summer, and I think the reason has to do with some bad advice she asked me for, which I gave despite my hesitations and now I regret it, and then she didn't follow it, and now I think she thinks I want to say I told her so but I truly don't, and now that she knows I was right I think she feels like she can't talk to me about her problems now... I need to respect boundaries more and refrain from giving advice - just listen! People are going to do what they want to do so JUST LISTEN. Like I should tattoo that on my forehead.
This is another one of those areas in life where I don't want to become my mother. My mother had no friends. Even her sister can't stand spending holidays with her. She married my dad, who was the prom king in college, and turned him into a man with no social life. So that's why I'm so worried about it. But really, if I can't fit in with a bunch of people who have zero in common with me ideologically, culturally, aesthetically, etc, it doesn't mean I'm becoming my mother. It means I live in a place where it is simply more challenging. Right? Right?
Anyway, did I tell you I'm joining a new book club? This one has a slightly older membership than me - women in their early 40s who apparently wondered if I was "too young" when they thought about inviting me last year. One of the members told me she felt bad that I was in the stupid people's book club that chose books like "Twilight" and "Gone with the Wind," and had to convince the other members that I'm not vapid even though I'm 33. (My vapidity has nothing to do with my age, I assure you). Don't you love women's group politics? Good times! So, yeah, given the way I apparently got my invitation over the period of like a year, I am keeping the expectations low. Lower than a snail's tail low.
In other news, now that glorious Fall is here I am feeling the need to watch some scary movies and drink hot cocoa. Watched "The Unborn" and " The Fourth Kind" on DVD recently. Both are scary and hella schlocky. But neither was as over the top as "Drag Me To Hell." Nobody liked that one but me and some nerdy dude who still works at Blockbuster and is a total Sam Raimi fanatic like me.
Luckily, I have good friends elsewhere, which is something I should be grateful for. If I do ever find a real local friend, I will probably totally suffocate her because I will be so hyper-excited to be able to spend time locally with Someone Who Gets It for a fucking change. I just wish my dream of having a few close friends here wasn't something I perseverated on so much! I'm annoying to myself. Maybe the people with same-aged kids who are moving here next year will fit the bill. Maybe DS will meet someone with cool 'rents in his preschool class. I probably shouldn't get my hopes up though. The last time I got my hopes up it sucked. Remember Food Court Mama who seemed interested at first but then never called or emailed me back? Must be my vaginosis. I guess I shouldn't have worn a skirt that day.
I need to quit with the negative self-talk. I actually do have some friends, I think. Or I used to. In fact, a sweet older lady who helped us move here 2 years ago was saying this weekend how impressed she is that we have made so many connections so quickly. Fo' rizzle? So I guess we seem popular to people who don't know us very well, which is nuts. I'm not completely lonely, I suppose. Sure, there's Stitch, my one local friend who I can usually be my authentic self around. However, to be perfectly honest Stitch took a step back from me this summer, and I think the reason has to do with some bad advice she asked me for, which I gave despite my hesitations and now I regret it, and then she didn't follow it, and now I think she thinks I want to say I told her so but I truly don't, and now that she knows I was right I think she feels like she can't talk to me about her problems now... I need to respect boundaries more and refrain from giving advice - just listen! People are going to do what they want to do so JUST LISTEN. Like I should tattoo that on my forehead.
This is another one of those areas in life where I don't want to become my mother. My mother had no friends. Even her sister can't stand spending holidays with her. She married my dad, who was the prom king in college, and turned him into a man with no social life. So that's why I'm so worried about it. But really, if I can't fit in with a bunch of people who have zero in common with me ideologically, culturally, aesthetically, etc, it doesn't mean I'm becoming my mother. It means I live in a place where it is simply more challenging. Right? Right?
Anyway, did I tell you I'm joining a new book club? This one has a slightly older membership than me - women in their early 40s who apparently wondered if I was "too young" when they thought about inviting me last year. One of the members told me she felt bad that I was in the stupid people's book club that chose books like "Twilight" and "Gone with the Wind," and had to convince the other members that I'm not vapid even though I'm 33. (My vapidity has nothing to do with my age, I assure you). Don't you love women's group politics? Good times! So, yeah, given the way I apparently got my invitation over the period of like a year, I am keeping the expectations low. Lower than a snail's tail low.
In other news, now that glorious Fall is here I am feeling the need to watch some scary movies and drink hot cocoa. Watched "The Unborn" and " The Fourth Kind" on DVD recently. Both are scary and hella schlocky. But neither was as over the top as "Drag Me To Hell." Nobody liked that one but me and some nerdy dude who still works at Blockbuster and is a total Sam Raimi fanatic like me.
Friday, September 3, 2010
School as Scapegoat
So I'm going to share a story with you all that I started to tell (rather poorly) in the comments on @Cloud's awesome blog. It's about Ms. R, the friend of a friend here in Podunkville who is someone with an education and resources, who should probably know better...
When I first heard about Mrs. R, she was in the local paper for her newsworthy 'badgering' of the School Board, as she was trying to make a point at their meeting, by applying to them the same techniques used in the school district's discipline policy. (Basically, she put the Superintendent in a time out-equivalent because he forgot some statistic during his remarks, and she tried to draw an analogy between him, and how she felt her son was being unfairly treated in K for "simply not knowing things.") So I thought she was a bit of a badass, and that it is pretty cool to have someone like her disturbing shit in our conservative little hamlet.
Then DH got to know Mrs. R's husband, Mr. J. In the course of getting to know him, Mr. J eventually told DH that their son, N, was suddenly going to be homeschooled after one semester of K, in which they decided "the school district was out to get him, and hates our son." DH came home and told me all of this and I was thinking, "Hmm, something about this story doesn't add up. But ok, whatever."
Fast forward to several months later, when we start to make friends with a couple, The A's, who has kids who attend the school little N used to attend. One day they bring up Mrs. R, and the other side of the story finally comes out. Apparently, N was repeatedly verbally abusive to other children in his class, and was having out-of-control rage fits, by all accounts. To the point that everyone in class was disrupted by him, and some other kids started getting afraid to go to school. I'm not talking about normal kid tantrums, I'm talking about behavior that just seemed totally out of proportion & abnormal. As in it would be clear to the outside observer that N could benefit from an evaluation to determine what is going on with him. The A's felt like they had known a boy with this same issue before, and actually called up their old friend who was the father of the similar boy to see how they should broach the topic with Mrs. R and Mr. J., out of concern for the family. Incidentally, the Superintendent of that other boy's school district actually took a trip to a school in Portland that addresses how to teach kids with these issues so he could incorporate the curriculum into the boy's education plan - talk about an awesome public school leader.
Mrs. A mentioned the friend's son's story to Mrs. R and was met with total denial. Mrs. R first blamed the school district's discipline policy for "shaming her son." Then she blamed the son of another friend for turning the children against her son. Then she said that public school is just not made for boys like hers, who are "intelligent and just super energetic." So now they're homeschooling. Mrs. R doesn't want to be friends with Mrs. A anymore. Mrs. A hopes she'll change her mind and realize that her suggestion was not intended as any sort of judgment about Mrs. R's parenting. Unfortuntely, the writing on the wall seems to be that there is something off about N, and Mrs. R is too in denial to get it checked out, even though they have the means.
Why am I telling this story about people I barely know? Because I think, so often in life, the truth is somewhere in between. This is a great example of that reality. On the one hand, I'm sure the school could have handled it better, but understandably, they are not made to handle little boys with serious rage issues when they have 18 other kids to educate. I'm not saying give up on kids like that - they failed to reach the parents on the benefits of their recommendation for an evaluation. And as for the parents, sometimes the conventional wisdom is right. If the data points that the subjective lens of the school structure is showing you indicate something might be really wrong with a kid, shouldn't we put aside our own parental insecurities and get answers? It is too easy to think "oh my poor baby" and make the school the problem, instead of saying "maybe we both have shit going on that played a role in this problem and maybe we can work cooperatively to solve it." Honestly, sometimes school is the problem. But sometimes parents try to make life way too much like Burger King, have it your way. I can't help but feel N is going to miss opportunities long term by not being around other kids. And N's former classmates - what might they be thinking about his absence after he behaved that way? Maybe that bad behavior does get punished? Or that we get rid of people who can't fit in?
Am I taking crazy pills by thinking about it this way?
When I first heard about Mrs. R, she was in the local paper for her newsworthy 'badgering' of the School Board, as she was trying to make a point at their meeting, by applying to them the same techniques used in the school district's discipline policy. (Basically, she put the Superintendent in a time out-equivalent because he forgot some statistic during his remarks, and she tried to draw an analogy between him, and how she felt her son was being unfairly treated in K for "simply not knowing things.") So I thought she was a bit of a badass, and that it is pretty cool to have someone like her disturbing shit in our conservative little hamlet.
Then DH got to know Mrs. R's husband, Mr. J. In the course of getting to know him, Mr. J eventually told DH that their son, N, was suddenly going to be homeschooled after one semester of K, in which they decided "the school district was out to get him, and hates our son." DH came home and told me all of this and I was thinking, "Hmm, something about this story doesn't add up. But ok, whatever."
Fast forward to several months later, when we start to make friends with a couple, The A's, who has kids who attend the school little N used to attend. One day they bring up Mrs. R, and the other side of the story finally comes out. Apparently, N was repeatedly verbally abusive to other children in his class, and was having out-of-control rage fits, by all accounts. To the point that everyone in class was disrupted by him, and some other kids started getting afraid to go to school. I'm not talking about normal kid tantrums, I'm talking about behavior that just seemed totally out of proportion & abnormal. As in it would be clear to the outside observer that N could benefit from an evaluation to determine what is going on with him. The A's felt like they had known a boy with this same issue before, and actually called up their old friend who was the father of the similar boy to see how they should broach the topic with Mrs. R and Mr. J., out of concern for the family. Incidentally, the Superintendent of that other boy's school district actually took a trip to a school in Portland that addresses how to teach kids with these issues so he could incorporate the curriculum into the boy's education plan - talk about an awesome public school leader.
Mrs. A mentioned the friend's son's story to Mrs. R and was met with total denial. Mrs. R first blamed the school district's discipline policy for "shaming her son." Then she blamed the son of another friend for turning the children against her son. Then she said that public school is just not made for boys like hers, who are "intelligent and just super energetic." So now they're homeschooling. Mrs. R doesn't want to be friends with Mrs. A anymore. Mrs. A hopes she'll change her mind and realize that her suggestion was not intended as any sort of judgment about Mrs. R's parenting. Unfortuntely, the writing on the wall seems to be that there is something off about N, and Mrs. R is too in denial to get it checked out, even though they have the means.
Why am I telling this story about people I barely know? Because I think, so often in life, the truth is somewhere in between. This is a great example of that reality. On the one hand, I'm sure the school could have handled it better, but understandably, they are not made to handle little boys with serious rage issues when they have 18 other kids to educate. I'm not saying give up on kids like that - they failed to reach the parents on the benefits of their recommendation for an evaluation. And as for the parents, sometimes the conventional wisdom is right. If the data points that the subjective lens of the school structure is showing you indicate something might be really wrong with a kid, shouldn't we put aside our own parental insecurities and get answers? It is too easy to think "oh my poor baby" and make the school the problem, instead of saying "maybe we both have shit going on that played a role in this problem and maybe we can work cooperatively to solve it." Honestly, sometimes school is the problem. But sometimes parents try to make life way too much like Burger King, have it your way. I can't help but feel N is going to miss opportunities long term by not being around other kids. And N's former classmates - what might they be thinking about his absence after he behaved that way? Maybe that bad behavior does get punished? Or that we get rid of people who can't fit in?
Am I taking crazy pills by thinking about it this way?
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
"The Toys Are Going Back To The Store!!"
I hate when life and Actual Work get in the way of blogging. Sorry for the recent absence here & at other bloggy friends' places. I'm brain dead today. I was up more times last night than I can count - I had a nagging cough that no medicine could address, plus both kids woke me up multiple times... and DH eventually told DS to "SHUT UP!!!" (And he honestly wonders where DS learns those kinds of phrases! "I learned it from you, dad! I learned it by watching you!!" Remember those lame anti-drug ads of the 80s anyone?) But I have to say, this is where the work we've been doing in marriage counseling has started to pay off. We didn't fight at 4am. We mentioned it calmly this morning and agreed to discuss it later and come up with a plan. I hardly recognized us! We actually sounded functional. I need DH to stop yelling "The Toys Are Going Back To The Store!!" whenever DS misbehaves. He needs me to stop letting DH be the bad guy all the time. We'll get there.
So all I've got are some random thoughts I feel the need to share.
The last 3 times I've heard an interesting, catchy tune on the radio lately that's made me sit up and take notice, and jot down the lyrics so I could google to find out what band it is - it has turned out to be a song by The Killers. ("Smile Like You Mean It," "Read My Mind," & "When You Were Young.) Yeah, I know they've been out for awhile. It's that rock I've been living under. I should probably just go ahead and download all of their albums. You know, this is making me feel old, not knowing what the kids are listening to anymore.
I just found out that "Weeds" is not over yet! Last year I swear I heard a rumor that it was their final season, now they're baaackk. I don't get Showtime though, so we'll probably Netflix it next summer. I have a friend who thinks I look exactly like Mary-Louise Parker (only about 60 lbs heavier and with ginormous boobies.) I think she's wrong. I've also been told I look exactly like Mariah Carey - and those ladies don't look alike at all.
DS is now 34 months and is finally daytime potty trained - um, that is, only when we keep him completely naked on the bottom. As in, he doesn't need any reminders (any parental reminders just piss him off) - he puts his skinny little butt right on the big potty whenever nature calls, and even remembers to flush. BUT the minute we put cloth underwear or a pullup on him, he treats it like a diaper. We hope someday soon it will click in his brain that he can pull pants down, but for the last month we have had a half naked toddler running around and it has really eased the load (pun intended.. gross right).
Only one episode of True Blood left! What the fuck am I going to do with myself? ;)
I really really hate working out, but I got pudgy enough that I looked in the mirror and stepped on the scale and was like "I need to get my lard ass to the gym!" I really don't hate my body, believe it or not, I have lovely curves (or so DH lies to me) it is just that my thighs were rubbing together and that needed to stop. There is this crazy ass gym around here that does really odd but cool exercises where you basically lift and pull heavy shit using this proper form the owners teach you. The workouts are only 25 minutes but you either want to pass out or puke after each one. Good times. After 5 sessions, my thighs stopped rubbing together and I'm getting those "have you lost weight?" comments that can sound totally backhanded if not said with the right tone.
DD turns 11 months at the end of this week, and I am sad thinking of how her infancy went by in a heartbeat. I'm also thinking some odd negative/regretful thoughts about choices we've had to make to survive this last almost-year. How I don't have the energy to dress her as cute as I did her brother at her age; how her room is still not decorated!! How the dream doesn't always match the reality. But it's ok. The things that truly mattered are taken care of.
What have you got?
So all I've got are some random thoughts I feel the need to share.
The last 3 times I've heard an interesting, catchy tune on the radio lately that's made me sit up and take notice, and jot down the lyrics so I could google to find out what band it is - it has turned out to be a song by The Killers. ("Smile Like You Mean It," "Read My Mind," & "When You Were Young.) Yeah, I know they've been out for awhile. It's that rock I've been living under. I should probably just go ahead and download all of their albums. You know, this is making me feel old, not knowing what the kids are listening to anymore.
I just found out that "Weeds" is not over yet! Last year I swear I heard a rumor that it was their final season, now they're baaackk. I don't get Showtime though, so we'll probably Netflix it next summer. I have a friend who thinks I look exactly like Mary-Louise Parker (only about 60 lbs heavier and with ginormous boobies.) I think she's wrong. I've also been told I look exactly like Mariah Carey - and those ladies don't look alike at all.
DS is now 34 months and is finally daytime potty trained - um, that is, only when we keep him completely naked on the bottom. As in, he doesn't need any reminders (any parental reminders just piss him off) - he puts his skinny little butt right on the big potty whenever nature calls, and even remembers to flush. BUT the minute we put cloth underwear or a pullup on him, he treats it like a diaper. We hope someday soon it will click in his brain that he can pull pants down, but for the last month we have had a half naked toddler running around and it has really eased the load (pun intended.. gross right).
Only one episode of True Blood left! What the fuck am I going to do with myself? ;)
I really really hate working out, but I got pudgy enough that I looked in the mirror and stepped on the scale and was like "I need to get my lard ass to the gym!" I really don't hate my body, believe it or not, I have lovely curves (or so DH lies to me) it is just that my thighs were rubbing together and that needed to stop. There is this crazy ass gym around here that does really odd but cool exercises where you basically lift and pull heavy shit using this proper form the owners teach you. The workouts are only 25 minutes but you either want to pass out or puke after each one. Good times. After 5 sessions, my thighs stopped rubbing together and I'm getting those "have you lost weight?" comments that can sound totally backhanded if not said with the right tone.
DD turns 11 months at the end of this week, and I am sad thinking of how her infancy went by in a heartbeat. I'm also thinking some odd negative/regretful thoughts about choices we've had to make to survive this last almost-year. How I don't have the energy to dress her as cute as I did her brother at her age; how her room is still not decorated!! How the dream doesn't always match the reality. But it's ok. The things that truly mattered are taken care of.
What have you got?
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Houseguests Are Like Fish
A future colleague of my DH's, and his wife, and two young children are currently staying at our place while they house hunt. It is pure, unadulterated mayhem around here. Their 3.5 year old son and our 2.5 year old DS have been fighting over literally the same race car for the past 48 hours. Both of our 10 month olds are teething and have heads full of snot, and no one is getting any sleep. And it is starting to feel too warm in here, as I look at the thermostat reading 77 degrees but set on 70... I know this will require a service call because we had the same problem last summer. And I have too much work shit scheduled for when they finally leave so I can't be at home to meet a repairman. Even a hot one who looks like Eric Bana. Because in Podunkville, land of no hustle, people take their sweet time with things and are slow talkers and slow movers in general. But enough bitching from me about houseguests - they are truly lovely people, it is just that all of the kids are getting in the way of anyone enjoying a relaxing time with people we are hoping to eventually become good friends with.
I need a drink - just something cold. Though if someone handed one to me I wouldn't turn down a Hendricks' gin & tonic with lime.
What are you drinking? Who is crashing your place? Who are you Kato Kaelin-ing on this summer?
I need a drink - just something cold. Though if someone handed one to me I wouldn't turn down a Hendricks' gin & tonic with lime.
What are you drinking? Who is crashing your place? Who are you Kato Kaelin-ing on this summer?
Monday, August 16, 2010
More like Aug 16th
So I am 8 days behind on blogging... what can I say, it was a great trip. And my laundry still isn't done. Best part: tie between the following - I slept like the dead, AND I was randomly upgraded to business class on the return trip, and it seriously felt like I had just won the lottery. (I'm lame like that & get excited over little luxuries.) Drank a ton. Ate amazeballs Indian food on Brick Lane, and also found this kebab place that I swear is putting opiates into its food! Had a great visit with my soon-to-be-involuntarily divorced BFF, with the no good very bad cheating gambling addict ex who she is still in love with more than a little bit. I think she is going to be just fine. She has made some very sweet friends - all non-UK foreigners who have totally been looking out for her.
We rode the trains to various UK locales including my new fave, Bath. Johnny Depp has a place there - duh of course he does, because there is something very unique about the town that I can't quite put my finger on. I also got to see that week's ep of "Mad Men." Unlike my other TV addiction, "True Blood," it is possible for folks in the UK to download episodes of the current season. Speaking of "Mad Men," I watched last night's ep with DS, who started repeating a phrase angrily-uttered by Peggy Olsen: "Your problem is not my problem!" Which is kind of funny to hear coming out of the little dude's mouth. Also a good reminder that perhaps young folks should not be watching this kind of programming with their moms.
I need to catch up on my blog reading now, so comments will be coming your way soon. Thanks for stopping by. More substantive posts soon once I deal with the fucking laundry etc.
We rode the trains to various UK locales including my new fave, Bath. Johnny Depp has a place there - duh of course he does, because there is something very unique about the town that I can't quite put my finger on. I also got to see that week's ep of "Mad Men." Unlike my other TV addiction, "True Blood," it is possible for folks in the UK to download episodes of the current season. Speaking of "Mad Men," I watched last night's ep with DS, who started repeating a phrase angrily-uttered by Peggy Olsen: "Your problem is not my problem!" Which is kind of funny to hear coming out of the little dude's mouth. Also a good reminder that perhaps young folks should not be watching this kind of programming with their moms.
I need to catch up on my blog reading now, so comments will be coming your way soon. Thanks for stopping by. More substantive posts soon once I deal with the fucking laundry etc.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Leaving On a Jet Plane
Tomorrow I leave for a blissful week in the UK, where I'm going to visit my newly-divorced BFF who recently moved there for a fresh start. This is my BFF since middle school who is ridiculously beautiful, and who will probably be married 3 or 4 times in her life and never have any children. But she is a total joy, and the closest thing I have to a sister. I actually hope she moves back to the states soon though. I think her living there aimlessly in the UK - jobless & childless, I might add... wait, that sounds heavenly - is not a tenable proposition for the long-term. She is already getting a rather generous pre-alimony payment but it is not enough for her to keep up with the exorbitant cost of urban living. And having nothing to do and nowhere to be is simply not good for her, because all she does with her time is think about her ex and how he totally rejected her. She seems stuck.
There is a part of me that wants to say to her: Um, how are you going to pay for your retirement? How are you going to psychologically move on from this? Because sitting in a flat you can't afford while claiming you also can't afford therapy makes no fucking sense really. What are your priorities? But I have been working very hard to keep my mouth shut and just LISTEN without judgment. She has a tendency to rebel against anyone who sounds remotely parental. She will figure it out for herself eventually. She always does. She is just one of those people who always lands on her feet, but often dangles very close off the edge. I swear her life has been a total roller coaster. She's poor. She's comfortable. She's poor. She's dirt poor! She's comfortable. She's rich! She's poor... not to mention her love life, which is, well, enviable to most men and probably to the Samantha character from SATC. (BTW the 2nd movie sucked out loud, except for the part about Lawrence of my Labia. But seriously, don't see it.) She's the friend I would call if I ever thought I had VD or needed an abortion. She doesn't even know the number of partners she's had in her life - I recall it was 22 at age 21 and she joked that she'd be one of those people with more partners than years on the planet. Meanwhile, I'm still on one hand. And still married. And with children - things she finds bizarrely intriguing now. Talk about vicarious living!
Drama follows her, and she definitely creates it. Oddly enough, I almost cancelled the trip because as of last week she thought she had bedbugs... and I can't afford a hotel and neither can she. Turns out she has a bad dust mite allergy that has given her eczema. Just glad bedbugs will not be following me home in my suitcase. Ick. Now I'm itching.
Anyway, this means ol' Hushie pie won't be back here until about Aug 8th or so... until then, hugs and kisses to you all. Thanks for stopping by. I'm going to need to watch next Sunday's episodes of "True Blood" and "Mad Men" though before I post, heck, before I unpack my suitcase and let those little bed buggies infest my house, right along with the mice!
Anyone else feeling me on the drama queen friend who you love & who is actually a great friend? Or on the mice or bedbugs? Or crabs? (just kidding)...
There is a part of me that wants to say to her: Um, how are you going to pay for your retirement? How are you going to psychologically move on from this? Because sitting in a flat you can't afford while claiming you also can't afford therapy makes no fucking sense really. What are your priorities? But I have been working very hard to keep my mouth shut and just LISTEN without judgment. She has a tendency to rebel against anyone who sounds remotely parental. She will figure it out for herself eventually. She always does. She is just one of those people who always lands on her feet, but often dangles very close off the edge. I swear her life has been a total roller coaster. She's poor. She's comfortable. She's poor. She's dirt poor! She's comfortable. She's rich! She's poor... not to mention her love life, which is, well, enviable to most men and probably to the Samantha character from SATC. (BTW the 2nd movie sucked out loud, except for the part about Lawrence of my Labia. But seriously, don't see it.) She's the friend I would call if I ever thought I had VD or needed an abortion. She doesn't even know the number of partners she's had in her life - I recall it was 22 at age 21 and she joked that she'd be one of those people with more partners than years on the planet. Meanwhile, I'm still on one hand. And still married. And with children - things she finds bizarrely intriguing now. Talk about vicarious living!
Drama follows her, and she definitely creates it. Oddly enough, I almost cancelled the trip because as of last week she thought she had bedbugs... and I can't afford a hotel and neither can she. Turns out she has a bad dust mite allergy that has given her eczema. Just glad bedbugs will not be following me home in my suitcase. Ick. Now I'm itching.
Anyway, this means ol' Hushie pie won't be back here until about Aug 8th or so... until then, hugs and kisses to you all. Thanks for stopping by. I'm going to need to watch next Sunday's episodes of "True Blood" and "Mad Men" though before I post, heck, before I unpack my suitcase and let those little bed buggies infest my house, right along with the mice!
Anyone else feeling me on the drama queen friend who you love & who is actually a great friend? Or on the mice or bedbugs? Or crabs? (just kidding)...
Friday, July 23, 2010
Do "Bad Seeds" Really Exist?
A recent program on NPR about parenting really made me stop and think. It made me question some of my prior assumptions that "there are no bad kids" (read: there are only bad parents/bad adults in their lives who fuck them up). It was the July 15, 2010 edition of Neal Conan's excellent "Talk of the Nation" program, with guests Dr. Richard Friedman, and NurtureShock author Po Bronson, called: "Sometimes, Good Parents Produce Bad Kids." Read the transcript or listen to it here.
It starts off like this: "In a recent article in the New York Times, psychiatrist Richard Friedman pointed out that mental health professionals have long been trained to see children as products of their environment, intrinsically good until influenced otherwise, and he disagrees. While there are all too many bad parents around, he argues, chronic bad behavior by a child does not necessarily mean bad parenting is responsible. Some kids are just bad seeds."
Wow.
Of course there's that old yarn from both the real Boys & Girls Town and its film version - "As the twig is bent, so grows the tree." There's also, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Probably there some other arborial metaphors for child development in other languages, too. But perhaps these old adages have it wrong?
What say you, parents?
It starts off like this: "In a recent article in the New York Times, psychiatrist Richard Friedman pointed out that mental health professionals have long been trained to see children as products of their environment, intrinsically good until influenced otherwise, and he disagrees. While there are all too many bad parents around, he argues, chronic bad behavior by a child does not necessarily mean bad parenting is responsible. Some kids are just bad seeds."
Wow.
Of course there's that old yarn from both the real Boys & Girls Town and its film version - "As the twig is bent, so grows the tree." There's also, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Probably there some other arborial metaphors for child development in other languages, too. But perhaps these old adages have it wrong?
What say you, parents?
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Holy Fucking Shit!
My 9-month-old DD slept all the way through the night last night! As in a real deal Holyfield 12+ hours of precious sleep from 7:30pm until 8:15am. But did her mama also sleep through the night? Hell no! Because apparently I am so used to the shitty routine of her waking my ass up between 2 and 4 am that I actually woke myself up imagining I had heard her cries on the monitor. When I went to check she was sound asleep on her tummy with her head in the corner of her crib. Yes, it was my mind playing tricks on me. Fuck!
Now I'm obsessed with replicating last night's conditions. She was wearing jeans and a blue polo shirt to bed (no time for jammies - when I saw her rub her eyes and yawn I just put her to bed as is). Check. Last night was the first night I had put her in a size 4 disposable diaper. Check. I put a half-full bottle of formula in the crib with her and 2 blankets. Check. Check. The fan was on a medium setting. Check. I put her down drowsy but awake at 7:31pm and let her cry, watching the clock for a looooong 6 minutes, until she fell asleep = tension releaser. Check. We shall see what transpires tonight, bitches...
I was fully awake and out of bed by 4:30 am after about an hour of unsuccessfully trying to go back to sleep. So I decided to just get up and get shit done until one of my kids woke up. Turns out it was DS at 7:15. But I got a lot done in almost 3 uninterrupted hours there: Uploaded & shared vacation photos from almost a month ago. Sprayed weeds. Wrote an encouraging note to Skeletor in anorexia rehab. Showered. I like that feeling of accomplishment so early on a Saturday before the heat of the day sets in, so much so that I might make the extreme early wake up a habit.... or not!
Now I'm obsessed with replicating last night's conditions. She was wearing jeans and a blue polo shirt to bed (no time for jammies - when I saw her rub her eyes and yawn I just put her to bed as is). Check. Last night was the first night I had put her in a size 4 disposable diaper. Check. I put a half-full bottle of formula in the crib with her and 2 blankets. Check. Check. The fan was on a medium setting. Check. I put her down drowsy but awake at 7:31pm and let her cry, watching the clock for a looooong 6 minutes, until she fell asleep = tension releaser. Check. We shall see what transpires tonight, bitches...
I was fully awake and out of bed by 4:30 am after about an hour of unsuccessfully trying to go back to sleep. So I decided to just get up and get shit done until one of my kids woke up. Turns out it was DS at 7:15. But I got a lot done in almost 3 uninterrupted hours there: Uploaded & shared vacation photos from almost a month ago. Sprayed weeds. Wrote an encouraging note to Skeletor in anorexia rehab. Showered. I like that feeling of accomplishment so early on a Saturday before the heat of the day sets in, so much so that I might make the extreme early wake up a habit.... or not!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Friend Ain't Getting Any
Mrs. P, one of my two IRL BFF's, and I had a long phone conversation today, covering a lot of territory, mainly marriage and kids. I told her about my recent marital trubs, dramatic hotel stay, and how therapy was certainly helping. And then she went and dropped what I felt was a total bomb - that she hasn't had sex with her DH for almost a year!
Wait, what???!!!
I now realize we often have no idea what is going on in other people's marriages. Hell, I'm sure mine looks great from the outside... little do they know.
Mrs. P is mama to an adorable 21-mos-old, who she Attachment Parents (her term) to an extreme. As in she and her DH have not been on a date since before the kid was born. Like, whoa. As in full-boat AP: co-sleeping, BF'ing, cloth diapering, no babysitters ever - all the hard core shit. I'm a bit of an APer-light, but I think I'd jump out of a window if I never had any time away from my kids.
My sense is that Mrs. P has trouble finding balance. She tends to go to extremes with things. And her DH is kind of a pushover - he just does whatever she says, and doesn't feel confident enough to ever initiate sex, or plan a date, or do anything. It would be nice if he knew how to balance her out. I think she has contributed to it by not acting like intimacy is any sort of priority for her.
Your thoughts?
Wait, what???!!!
I now realize we often have no idea what is going on in other people's marriages. Hell, I'm sure mine looks great from the outside... little do they know.
Mrs. P is mama to an adorable 21-mos-old, who she Attachment Parents (her term) to an extreme. As in she and her DH have not been on a date since before the kid was born. Like, whoa. As in full-boat AP: co-sleeping, BF'ing, cloth diapering, no babysitters ever - all the hard core shit. I'm a bit of an APer-light, but I think I'd jump out of a window if I never had any time away from my kids.
My sense is that Mrs. P has trouble finding balance. She tends to go to extremes with things. And her DH is kind of a pushover - he just does whatever she says, and doesn't feel confident enough to ever initiate sex, or plan a date, or do anything. It would be nice if he knew how to balance her out. I think she has contributed to it by not acting like intimacy is any sort of priority for her.
Your thoughts?
Friday, July 9, 2010
It's Been a Bad Day (please don't take a picture)
Last night was date night, and it was supposed to be fun. Instead it sucked, and turned into a big fight at 4:30 am this morning with both kids suddenly in bed with us.
Which had the effect of making me realize that some Very Important Something just might be missing between DH and me.
I know I have been bitching a lot... you all out there on the internets are probably sick of it. But I told myself I would always keep it real on my blog, because I am unable to in my real life. So please bear with me.
This morning was the first time I have ever really wanted to leave my marriage in a real, granular way. I actually started to plan it in my head, and that scared me. Why? Because for the first time I felt truly hopeless about DH's ability to make the changes we've recently discovered in therapy that he needs to be making. In his behavior, I saw visions of his fucked up parents. Let me be clear: I'm NOT talking abuse, nor any of the Four A's that for me would be an automatic "adios" to my marriage.
To be more specific, DH made me feel like the worst mother in the world - and I might add, like I am operating as a single parent here- for no good reason. He basically said I was "coddling" the kids by letting them be in our bed (after they had spent the entire night up until 4:30am in their own beds), and "coddling" them by not letting DD cry it out in her crib (CIO doesn't work at that hour when she is already standing up in the crib), and "coddling" DS because at 2.75 years of age I let him drink from a bottle and because he won't sit still and cooperate for a diaper change. (the only way to rid DS of bottles is to rid DD of them and she is only 9 mos old.) Why am I putting my excuses/responses in parentheses anyway? I know what the fuck I am doing - it is called SURVIVING!
I love how DH only has actual parenting opinions in the middle of a fight at 4:30am. I also love how DH arrogantly assumes he knows better than I do despite never having read a single fucking book about raising a child nor even looking at a single fucking parenting blog.
So there's that, plus the date night from hell where I realized, if I were just meeting this guy for the first time tonight and he acted like this, I'd never see him again. He just had the personality of a grapefruit last night. This was the same guy who last week got an email from the place we went to and forwarded it to me and said "let's get a sitter and go to this" - so I set everything up and at 5 o'clock yesterday he had forgotten all about it and said "do we have to go?" I said no, we could do something else, and by the time he got home he changed his mind and wanted to go. Then he had nothing to say the entire time. I kept trying to talk about something, anything, light things like what's going on in the world, and he was just not there. And I realized I no longer have the patience for him. I needed to be able to look forward to a good night out and have it happen. And there was no good reason it shouldn't have.
Reading back over this it all seems trite - but I can no longer deny it - for me, the connection is just no longer there. The intellectual spark, the fascination about the world, SOMETHING, fuck even LeBron James's announcement I would have been happy to talk about, but instead he was a total dud. And for the life of me, I cannot deal with it. Then he is a total unhelpful dick this morning? I may be at the end of my rope. I am seriously contemplating checking into a hotel this weekend.
I need a sign.
Which had the effect of making me realize that some Very Important Something just might be missing between DH and me.
I know I have been bitching a lot... you all out there on the internets are probably sick of it. But I told myself I would always keep it real on my blog, because I am unable to in my real life. So please bear with me.
This morning was the first time I have ever really wanted to leave my marriage in a real, granular way. I actually started to plan it in my head, and that scared me. Why? Because for the first time I felt truly hopeless about DH's ability to make the changes we've recently discovered in therapy that he needs to be making. In his behavior, I saw visions of his fucked up parents. Let me be clear: I'm NOT talking abuse, nor any of the Four A's that for me would be an automatic "adios" to my marriage.
To be more specific, DH made me feel like the worst mother in the world - and I might add, like I am operating as a single parent here- for no good reason. He basically said I was "coddling" the kids by letting them be in our bed (after they had spent the entire night up until 4:30am in their own beds), and "coddling" them by not letting DD cry it out in her crib (CIO doesn't work at that hour when she is already standing up in the crib), and "coddling" DS because at 2.75 years of age I let him drink from a bottle and because he won't sit still and cooperate for a diaper change. (the only way to rid DS of bottles is to rid DD of them and she is only 9 mos old.) Why am I putting my excuses/responses in parentheses anyway? I know what the fuck I am doing - it is called SURVIVING!
I love how DH only has actual parenting opinions in the middle of a fight at 4:30am. I also love how DH arrogantly assumes he knows better than I do despite never having read a single fucking book about raising a child nor even looking at a single fucking parenting blog.
So there's that, plus the date night from hell where I realized, if I were just meeting this guy for the first time tonight and he acted like this, I'd never see him again. He just had the personality of a grapefruit last night. This was the same guy who last week got an email from the place we went to and forwarded it to me and said "let's get a sitter and go to this" - so I set everything up and at 5 o'clock yesterday he had forgotten all about it and said "do we have to go?" I said no, we could do something else, and by the time he got home he changed his mind and wanted to go. Then he had nothing to say the entire time. I kept trying to talk about something, anything, light things like what's going on in the world, and he was just not there. And I realized I no longer have the patience for him. I needed to be able to look forward to a good night out and have it happen. And there was no good reason it shouldn't have.
Reading back over this it all seems trite - but I can no longer deny it - for me, the connection is just no longer there. The intellectual spark, the fascination about the world, SOMETHING, fuck even LeBron James's announcement I would have been happy to talk about, but instead he was a total dud. And for the life of me, I cannot deal with it. Then he is a total unhelpful dick this morning? I may be at the end of my rope. I am seriously contemplating checking into a hotel this weekend.
I need a sign.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
The Second and Final Child
DD just turned 9 months old, and I can't even believe how fast the time has gone. She recently started walking (oh holy hell....) at 8.5 months. My mother tells me after a cursory check at her diligent entries in my baby book circa 1977, I also happened to walk at the exact same age. (DS was also an early walker, though at 9.5 mos he was a full month behind his sis. I suspect a strong genetic component to early walking). Yesterday was the first time we "lost" DD in the house and seriously didn't know where she was for a very scary 5 minutes. Turned out she had crawled all the way upstairs and was playing with a tent & tunnel toy she recently discovered. Another favorite activity of hers is splashing around in the dog's water bowl, so we've had to find a new location for it, much to our dear pooch's chagrin. She is so squirmy, and just wants to move!! She recently went swimming for the first time and totally loved it. She would start kicking her legs at just the right time, and enjoyed standing on the pool stairs. And of course watching her big brother jump off the diving board.
What I also can't believe is how vastly different her first 9 months have been compared to her older brother's first 9 months. He was born in the big city, where I went back after my 19-week maternity leave, to working a high pressure job, while he spent 4 months in a great center-based daycare. Then we moved to Podunkville (land of no good daycare, and no office job for me) when he was the exact age that DD is now. And that was 2 years ago this weekend. Wow - how time flies. My grandma always said time flies much faster the older we get, and I am discovering that to be true.
After way too much ruminating, DH and I have decided that DD is going to be our last baby. We once had aspirations of having as many as 4 kids. Pass me my crazy pills, I know! After actually having 2 we now see what a naive little dream that was. At the rate we're going, we wouldn't have even been able to remember the 4th kid's name, let alone when little what's its name took his first steps! Anyway, our decision to be done at 2 healthy kids has turned out to be oddly freeing. I feel like I now have extra encouragement to savor the sweet little moments everyday. Smelling the proverbial roses. And even to buy small things that are just hers alone, like a silly pink bib with polka dots, even though I know I'll never have another baby to wear it. And I'm also feeling the need to tone up my body and buy properly-fitting bras. (I'm a size 39 DD and a half...) And visit my newly-single BFF in London this summer. Because if you think about it, we're saving at least $225,136* over the next 18+ years by not having any more kids. (*figure pulled from my ass).
I confess it has been much harder to remember even the basic things about DD's babyhood. I think it is because I already have one set of memories of having witnessed the miracle of a tiny newborn turning into a walking, talking, egg-smashing, defiant, clever, spontaneous hug-giving & kiss-planting toddler who is newly-obsessed with "Toy Story," not sharing, and berating other kids who even dare look at his baby sister. And having a firstborn who is just such a vibrant, overwhelming personality in our house has honestly made it harder to carve out unique time and memories only of DD. I used to think parents who talked so much about their firstborn must secretly love them more, but now I realize that's not necessarily true. First anythings are just inherently more memorable (primacy effect?). Everything and everyone who follows will at some level be compared to how the first was. It is a struggle to give DD equal time -- no wait, forget equal time, how about just sufficient time? I feel like I need to read and talk just to her a lot more than I have been doing.
Any advice from those of you who have 2 or more little ones?
What I also can't believe is how vastly different her first 9 months have been compared to her older brother's first 9 months. He was born in the big city, where I went back after my 19-week maternity leave, to working a high pressure job, while he spent 4 months in a great center-based daycare. Then we moved to Podunkville (land of no good daycare, and no office job for me) when he was the exact age that DD is now. And that was 2 years ago this weekend. Wow - how time flies. My grandma always said time flies much faster the older we get, and I am discovering that to be true.
After way too much ruminating, DH and I have decided that DD is going to be our last baby. We once had aspirations of having as many as 4 kids. Pass me my crazy pills, I know! After actually having 2 we now see what a naive little dream that was. At the rate we're going, we wouldn't have even been able to remember the 4th kid's name, let alone when little what's its name took his first steps! Anyway, our decision to be done at 2 healthy kids has turned out to be oddly freeing. I feel like I now have extra encouragement to savor the sweet little moments everyday. Smelling the proverbial roses. And even to buy small things that are just hers alone, like a silly pink bib with polka dots, even though I know I'll never have another baby to wear it. And I'm also feeling the need to tone up my body and buy properly-fitting bras. (I'm a size 39 DD and a half...) And visit my newly-single BFF in London this summer. Because if you think about it, we're saving at least $225,136* over the next 18+ years by not having any more kids. (*figure pulled from my ass).
I confess it has been much harder to remember even the basic things about DD's babyhood. I think it is because I already have one set of memories of having witnessed the miracle of a tiny newborn turning into a walking, talking, egg-smashing, defiant, clever, spontaneous hug-giving & kiss-planting toddler who is newly-obsessed with "Toy Story," not sharing, and berating other kids who even dare look at his baby sister. And having a firstborn who is just such a vibrant, overwhelming personality in our house has honestly made it harder to carve out unique time and memories only of DD. I used to think parents who talked so much about their firstborn must secretly love them more, but now I realize that's not necessarily true. First anythings are just inherently more memorable (primacy effect?). Everything and everyone who follows will at some level be compared to how the first was. It is a struggle to give DD equal time -- no wait, forget equal time, how about just sufficient time? I feel like I need to read and talk just to her a lot more than I have been doing.
Any advice from those of you who have 2 or more little ones?
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
"The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks" Book Discussion
So I had planned for several weeks to write a really nice review of this book, because as pretty much every reviewer on the internets will tell you, it is a fantastic, unique work of considerable significance. Life has gotten in the way of blogging (again). Long story short: my marriage is good (shocking!), kids are healthy, though our 2.75 year-old DS seems to be stuttering lately (as he says defiant, funny things like "Don't tell me what to do!") and DH and I are mildly concerned about it (but not yet concerned enough to get him evaluated), our almost 9-month old DD just started walking and none of us were at all prepared for the wonderful havoc of a fully mobile baby. And things haven't quite gotten back on track for me work-wise ever since our babysitter quit last month to get married at age 20, and her replacement who we have fallen in love with just told me today that she has another job offer and is confused about what she wants to do... Argh! How does anyone actually work in Podunkville when there is no reliable childcare!!?? But enough whining from me... let's talk about what we all came here for... The true story of the HeLa cells and all of the crazybad fucked up shit that Mrs. Lacks' family has had to go through for years.
No worries if you haven't read it/read all of it. Here's my take on it. Everyone should read it. And if you can't read it, wait until Alan Ball produces an HBO special about it in a few years. But please do learn Henrietta Lacks' story.
There are a few things in this book that are going to stay with me for a long time. Namely, Elsie Lacks' horrible story. I think the author buried the lead/lede with Elsie's story, telling it towards the end of the book, concerning what happened to Henrietta Lacks' eldest child who had mental disabilities, and was institutionalized, tortured, and experimented on in an asylum in Maryland in the 1950s. I'm getting choked up typing this. I actually had a nightmare about the Night Doctors, and am convinced that 'urban legend' sprang from a place of truth.
The other thing that will stay with me is the book's epilogue. It boggles my mind the total helplessness of people who have had & in the future will continue to have parts of their bodies used by others for profit, probably unbeknownst to them. Who's to say some of your tissues aren't being used right now in ways you wouldn't approve of? And yet the law provides you no remedy. There is no guarantee that there will not be future families left in the same sad situation as the Lacks family.
What about this book resonated with you? If you didn't like it, feel free to say why - I won't hate on you.
No worries if you haven't read it/read all of it. Here's my take on it. Everyone should read it. And if you can't read it, wait until Alan Ball produces an HBO special about it in a few years. But please do learn Henrietta Lacks' story.
There are a few things in this book that are going to stay with me for a long time. Namely, Elsie Lacks' horrible story. I think the author buried the lead/lede with Elsie's story, telling it towards the end of the book, concerning what happened to Henrietta Lacks' eldest child who had mental disabilities, and was institutionalized, tortured, and experimented on in an asylum in Maryland in the 1950s. I'm getting choked up typing this. I actually had a nightmare about the Night Doctors, and am convinced that 'urban legend' sprang from a place of truth.
The other thing that will stay with me is the book's epilogue. It boggles my mind the total helplessness of people who have had & in the future will continue to have parts of their bodies used by others for profit, probably unbeknownst to them. Who's to say some of your tissues aren't being used right now in ways you wouldn't approve of? And yet the law provides you no remedy. There is no guarantee that there will not be future families left in the same sad situation as the Lacks family.
What about this book resonated with you? If you didn't like it, feel free to say why - I won't hate on you.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Updates
1. The first episode of True Blood Season 3 rocked my world!!! Especially Sheriff Eric Northman's first scene.... yum.... and Pam was so hilarious.
2. Skeletor and Bill Clinton are getting divorced. She is in in-patient rehab halfway across the country, and he plans to drop the bomb on her when she gets back. Now that's the ultimate dick move, particularly the part about letting everyone else in town know before he tells her.
3. Remember our friend who is the father of 3, whose alcoholic wife is divorcing him, and I spoke with the girls' Guardian ad Litem on his behalf? The Judge has awarded him primary residential custody and has ordered his ex-wife to pay child support and attend a substance abuse evaluation. I'm so happy!!
2. Skeletor and Bill Clinton are getting divorced. She is in in-patient rehab halfway across the country, and he plans to drop the bomb on her when she gets back. Now that's the ultimate dick move, particularly the part about letting everyone else in town know before he tells her.
3. Remember our friend who is the father of 3, whose alcoholic wife is divorcing him, and I spoke with the girls' Guardian ad Litem on his behalf? The Judge has awarded him primary residential custody and has ordered his ex-wife to pay child support and attend a substance abuse evaluation. I'm so happy!!
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Meetings
Sorry for the disappearing act. We were out of town. For work and play. With the kids. It kind of sucked logistically, but at the same time it was so nice to escape Podunkville, eat good food, and meet up with some cool mofos. Part of the suckiness was a huge fight we had in front of the kids - just like a bunch of assholes. Then we neglected to make up in front of them, which my reading of "Nurture Shock" (in time for the upcoming book discussion of it on Ask Moxie) tells me is what can really screw kids up. So that royally sucked.
A strange thing happened on our last day in the big city. I met someone. A man. A married man with kids. A man who, if it had been a mere 9 years ago and had he also been single, I strongly suspect I would have had a relationship with. And it freaked my shit right the fuck out. Nothing happened. Rest assured, Hush ain't no cheater, so everyone calm down! Nothing was even said. It was all just crazywild VIBE stuff. My DH and his wife were there the whole time. I probably shouldn't say anything more. I am going to avoid this person like the plague, and I doubt our paths will ever cross again... I know other women in relationships have experienced one-off things like this, and I believe the best policy is open communication with my husband about the attraction, coupled with total avoidance. Thank the lawd for therapy!
Relatedly, DH seems to have gotten scared about counseling in the last 2 weeks, and has been slowly retreating from it. I think he is afraid of finally opening the can of worms he needs to open. Childhood pain stuff. However, he claims he is trying to schedule his next appointment. I say "no TRY, just DO." (In my best Yoda voice). The counselor doesn't want to see me alone again, nor us both together again, until he has had the chance to meet 1-on-1 with DH. To further annoy/confound me, DH is also not reading either of the books the counselor recommended: "Getting the Love You Want" by Harville Hendrix, and John Gottman et.al's "The 7 Principles for Making Marriage Work." Both of which we own, and I have already read several times like a self-help dweeb that I am. So I am hoping DH comes around. I think he will.
But all is not so bad because... drumroll please... the TRUE BLOOD season 3 premiere is this Sunday on HBO (6pm my time, yipee!). Is it kind of sad that I am looking so forward to a freaking TV show? Like the people on it are long lost friends? Nah. ;)
A strange thing happened on our last day in the big city. I met someone. A man. A married man with kids. A man who, if it had been a mere 9 years ago and had he also been single, I strongly suspect I would have had a relationship with. And it freaked my shit right the fuck out. Nothing happened. Rest assured, Hush ain't no cheater, so everyone calm down! Nothing was even said. It was all just crazywild VIBE stuff. My DH and his wife were there the whole time. I probably shouldn't say anything more. I am going to avoid this person like the plague, and I doubt our paths will ever cross again... I know other women in relationships have experienced one-off things like this, and I believe the best policy is open communication with my husband about the attraction, coupled with total avoidance. Thank the lawd for therapy!
Relatedly, DH seems to have gotten scared about counseling in the last 2 weeks, and has been slowly retreating from it. I think he is afraid of finally opening the can of worms he needs to open. Childhood pain stuff. However, he claims he is trying to schedule his next appointment. I say "no TRY, just DO." (In my best Yoda voice). The counselor doesn't want to see me alone again, nor us both together again, until he has had the chance to meet 1-on-1 with DH. To further annoy/confound me, DH is also not reading either of the books the counselor recommended: "Getting the Love You Want" by Harville Hendrix, and John Gottman et.al's "The 7 Principles for Making Marriage Work." Both of which we own, and I have already read several times like a self-help dweeb that I am. So I am hoping DH comes around. I think he will.
But all is not so bad because... drumroll please... the TRUE BLOOD season 3 premiere is this Sunday on HBO (6pm my time, yipee!). Is it kind of sad that I am looking so forward to a freaking TV show? Like the people on it are long lost friends? Nah. ;)
Thursday, May 20, 2010
July 1st - "Henrietta Lacks" Book Discussion Here!
Be there or be square. July 1st. Our book is "The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks" by Rebecca Skloot. It's a compelling one. So much so that Oprah and "True Blood" creator Alan Ball are doing an HBO film project based on it. Hooray!
Monday, May 17, 2010
Our First Counseling Session
The long-awaited marriage counseling appointment finally came & went. And wow. We really put it off for far too long.
Our therapist, Dr. R, surprised and impressed me on many levels - I guess I wasn't expecting much from a professional working here in Podunkville. His tone was a great fit for us. When I read on his CV that he also does "Pastoral Counseling," I asked him if he would have any problem working with an atheist like me, and he said no problem at all. He mentioned that he is a mentee of Dr. John Gottman's, whose work I really believe in- and that sealed the deal for me.
What can I say about the hour-long session? DH and I both cried multiple times. My DH has an issue with me that he finally figured out is not really about me, but is about deep-seated family-of-origin pain. Basically, his anger that I am not a better housekeeper has nothing to do with the dirty dishes in the sink, which is what I knew deep down all along. That was validating for me (and for the record, our house is quite clean thank you very fucking much). I didn't say much this time. I had trouble finding the right words for what I was feeling. And I wanted DH to keep talking. I knew I needed to think about these things a lot more. Afterwards, we went for a walk in the park and I suddenly got really angry with DH as I started really thinking about all of the stuff I have been putting under the rug. I need to learn to express my anger in a healthier way. My issue (I think) is that I am good at making things seem like everything is ok when actually DH's moods are killing me inside - just like my dad handles my effed up, emotionally-abusive mom!
I just love dysfunctional family legacies, don't you?
We will definitely be coming back to see Dr. R, and hopefully in time we can come up with some strategies so we don't scar our poor babies for life, end up in divorce court, or worse yet, end up remarrying the exact same effed up pattern-having spouse. Hooray!
Our therapist, Dr. R, surprised and impressed me on many levels - I guess I wasn't expecting much from a professional working here in Podunkville. His tone was a great fit for us. When I read on his CV that he also does "Pastoral Counseling," I asked him if he would have any problem working with an atheist like me, and he said no problem at all. He mentioned that he is a mentee of Dr. John Gottman's, whose work I really believe in- and that sealed the deal for me.
What can I say about the hour-long session? DH and I both cried multiple times. My DH has an issue with me that he finally figured out is not really about me, but is about deep-seated family-of-origin pain. Basically, his anger that I am not a better housekeeper has nothing to do with the dirty dishes in the sink, which is what I knew deep down all along. That was validating for me (and for the record, our house is quite clean thank you very fucking much). I didn't say much this time. I had trouble finding the right words for what I was feeling. And I wanted DH to keep talking. I knew I needed to think about these things a lot more. Afterwards, we went for a walk in the park and I suddenly got really angry with DH as I started really thinking about all of the stuff I have been putting under the rug. I need to learn to express my anger in a healthier way. My issue (I think) is that I am good at making things seem like everything is ok when actually DH's moods are killing me inside - just like my dad handles my effed up, emotionally-abusive mom!
I just love dysfunctional family legacies, don't you?
We will definitely be coming back to see Dr. R, and hopefully in time we can come up with some strategies so we don't scar our poor babies for life, end up in divorce court, or worse yet, end up remarrying the exact same effed up pattern-having spouse. Hooray!
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