Meme Whilst I Avoid Focusing on Sad World Events

Slow news day around here. Actually, that's not true. I could talk about the events unfolding in Japan, but it is too close and too ouchy for me. I used to live in rural Kyushu when I worked on the JET Programme. The people were so generous and lovely. Others have said everything I wanted to say much more eloquently than I could have.

Well, I should say Happy St. Pat's to my fellow partial or 100% Micks out there in the world. Good news is that DD finally seems to be feeling better: the unflavored, clear pediatric electrolyte fluid we put in her nighttime bottle (which is usually filled with plain water) seems to have helped her to feel better. DS has been watching the new "Star Trek" movie this morning - in Spanish with English subtitles, thanks to NK's excellent suggestion in my comments section awhile back, for getting kids to want to speak in a different language. DS has been speaking a lot more Spanish since we started doing that, so thanks again, NK! (She writes a very impressive home reno/style/design blog, and inspires awe in me by posting frequently and with cool pictures!)

One of the things I see bloggers do when they're having trouble coming up with a post topic and/or are avoiding world news is to do one of those memes (is that the right word?) - like the "ABC's of me" meme I've seen around lately.

Age: 34.

Bra size: 39.5 DD+. Yes, I'm afraid I have National Geographic boobs that are not a standard size. They look much better secured in a correctly-fitted, albeit Granny-style, uber-supportive bra. I'm proactive about getting new ones at least 3 times a year with the help of kind, department store salespeople.
Chore you hate: All of them! Especially folding and putting away laundry, and dusting.
Dogs: Three. I am a "crazy dog lady" who thinks of them as her quasi-children, but who happen to actually hear what I have to say. We even let our oldest dog sleep in our bed.
Etiquette Rule you always obey: Handwritten thank-you notes, promptly mailed.
Favorite color: Turquoise and Kelly Green. And occasionally Reddish Orange and Fuschia. I'm known locally for my colorful dressing.
Gold or silver: Silver.
Height: 5' 8".
Instruments that you can play: The skin flute...
Just one item you'd grab from burning house: Old family photos. I should really look into scanning them and backing them up electronically.
Kids: A 3-year-old son, and a 17-month old daughter. (And the dogs.)
Live: A small town in the rural, inland Pacific Northwest US
Movie last seen in theater: "The Adjustment Bureau" - great movie, loved John Slattery from 'Mad Men,' makes me want to read some Philip K. Dick. Although I wish the ending had been a little darker, and more European cinema instead of Hollywood-ish.

Novel you're reading: "The Lacuna" by Barbara Kingsolver, for book club - not far enough into it to have formed an impression yet.
Overnight hospital stays: One - unnecessary, but mandatory after the birth of my first child if I wanted my insurance to cover the bill. With my second child I went home by choice on the same day a few hours later.
Pet peeve: Using a handheld mobile phone to talk or text while driving - you people are crazy! "All Snake" claims adjusters who don't respond to emails and phone calls.
Quote from a movie: Anything from "My Blue Heaven" which DH and I quote pretty frequently and can relate to our own lives as big city people living in Podunkille, like "You could melt all of this stuff." - Vinny as Todd Wilkinson
Regret: Not sticking up for myself better when I was once accused of stealing someone's gym bag.
Simple pleasure: Clean bedsheets fresh out of the dryer (that someone else washed for me.)
Time you wake up: 7:15am if I'm lucky - that's life as a mother of 2 small children!
Underrated TV show: "Justified" on FX starring Timothy Olyphant. Extremely violent, but excellent.
Vegetables you dislike: Cauliflower.
What makes you run late: My son tantruming/refusing to keep his carseat buckled properly.
X-rays: I had one when I lost the very tip of one of my fingers under the hood of a car in 1991 - it was actually a painless experience, and unless I keep my fingernail too short, the injury is not at all visible today.
Yummy food you love: Chicago-style pizza, New York-style pizza, Korean BBQ, all Indian food, Sabra hummus from the grocery store... I could go on and on.
Zodiac sign: Scorpio (and the description fits me perfectly, unfortunately!)

You're all tagged if you want to be - to answer any or all of these for yourself - feel free to leave it in the comments

Sick Days

I always knew it was going to happen eventually, and finally it did: both of my children, DH and I have been disgustingly sick with some very strange, no good very bad virus for the past 48 hours... all of us have had some form of lower GI issues. I'll spare you the details, but let's just say someone in my family was very, very confused when he sat on the toilet to defecate and it came out sounding like urination.

DD seems to have the worst of it and is still not out of the woods yet. I just got back from a 9pm trip to the store to pick up some pediatric electrolytes and BRAT diet items (BRAT = bananas, rice, applesauce, toast for the uninitiated). My illness was over in a matter of hours but involved me sprawled out in the tub crying for mercy for the better part of the evening. DH hardly had anything at all - DS got over his bout quickly, and decided he doesn't like vomiting.

I'm so tired of scrubbing toilets, and doing laundry, and wiping the floors, and wondering if my house smells as bad as I think it does. I've missed work, and then our poor babysitter also contracted it, so I've been alone with the kids all day. Yelly Mama made a brief appearance, but DS quickly put me in my place with this direct quote: "Mama, be nice or Daddy won't want to marry you or kiss you." I know, I know, everyone thinks their kid is a little genius in some way shape or form - and we're all correct!

"PC Load Letter!!!???!!!"

Why can't we ever manage to find a basic, bare-bones inexpensive home printer that actually works? As in one that like actually prints documents and doesn't get an "out of paper" or "paper jam" message every 5 minutes? I don't need one that can fax or print photos. Scanner and basic printing capabilities will do.

Here's what I'd like to tell all the home printers I've purchased and hated before.

To our newest shitty printer purchase, the H-Pee AWFUL-ice-jet 4500, I say: Go eff yourself! Unfortunately, we have to live with your broke ass a little longer.

To its shitty predecessor, El Ep-Sun Style-less See-Ex 4450, I say: We had you for like a month because you were included for free with some other equipment we got. (The fact we paid nothing for you should have been our first clue.) Eff you very much!

To the O.G. printer we got back in like 2004, the H-Pee All in one 6210: Thank you for some shits and giggles. We got to talk to some guys in India about your issues on two occasions. Eff off!

Tomorrow I take 2 useless printers to the recycling place; the other I must keep until a better replacement can be found at a reasonable price point. Oy.

The good news is DH and I have date night tomorrow, and we get to see an actual movie in the theater. Maybe it will be at the same theater where I went into labor with DD 17+ months ago while watching "Zombieland." Good times!

Taxes Schmaxes

I hate tax season. Especially for this year. Our returns are taking forever in part because our files were a bit of a disaster. But I've learned a few little tips to keep us organized for next year, like the shockingly brilliant idea of actually filing papers in correctly labeled files. Like duh! Fingers crossed that all adult members of my family (ahem) will actually comply with ideas like these stemming from basic common sense.

We had 2 regular babysitters in 2010 for whom we are legally (and I also feel, ethically) obligated to file payroll taxes because they worked in our home, were over age 18, we paid them at least $1000 in any calendar quarter of the year and/or over $1700 that year. Simple enough parameters, so time to pay Uncle Sam, right? That way, should they ever need to make an unemployment claim, they'll get all the funds to which they're entitled, and it hopefully someday they'll have a little more money to put to use in retirement (that is of course assuming Social Security is still around when today's 20- and 30-somethings retire). So allow me to share our tale of two babysitters with two vastly different views on taxation. But before I do, can I just take a moment to say how much easier it would be if there were actually good daycare in Podunkville? Then at least we'd have no real tax issues to have to concern ourselves with.

Sitter One was a 20-year-old white chick born and raised in Podunkville. When I had her complete an I-9 Form when we hired her, she didn't list her social security number, as she did not know it. She worked for us for about 7 months, was sick a lot, and was late a lot, then once day she told us she was getting married at age 19 and needed to find a job with health insurance & benefits. Fair enough - so we agreed upon an end date 2 months hence. Two weeks later she informs us she needs to quit a little sooner, like on the following Monday. I then have to reschedule a bunch of meetings and work shit. Apparently, she's never heard of the professional courtesy of 2 weeks' notice. I actually wasn't too pissed about it; as I had become quite used to her flakiness.

After the Great Summer 2010 Sitter Hunt of Podunkville that lasted 2 frenetic weeks, enter Sitter Two who starting taking care of our kids in June. She is one of the best things that has ever happened to my family. We have given her raises, and all of the bonuses and perks we can reasonably afford (which isn't much...). She just makes everyone's life so much better. She happens to be a Mexican-American immigrant who may or may not be here legally - I honestly can't tell, nor will I be asking too many questions about her immigration status. We have fulfilled every legal requirement though, just like with Sitter One: she filled out a I-9 form, we examined the documents from the I-9 list, made a copy of her social security card, and we still keep them on file, along with the I-9 form we still have on file or Sitter One. Legally that's all we need to do. We need NOT do the work of the friggin Border Patrol or act like we live in Arizona.

In early January, Sitter Two double checks with me and asks me to please file taxes for her if I can - I said "Of course I will." Last month we put together the 2010 W-2's for both sitters. I had to text Sitter One to get her SS# - asking her to please call me with it. No response after 2 days, I ask again. She said "oh yeah sorry I forgot" and texted me back with it instead of calling me. Texting one's SS# = probably not the smartest move ever. Both W-2's went out in the mail by the January 31st mailing deadline, then we filed them with the SSA. (Sorry to bore you with these details, I promise I'm getting to the point soon.)

A few weeks later, Sitter One texts me "I wish you would of [sic] told me you were gonna make me pay taxes, cuz nobody i ever nannied for has, then i could of [sic] had time to prepare."

I was actually disappointed to get that text. I told DH, who in his no-nonsense way basically said, "She really isn't very bright, is she?" I had to resist every temptation to get into a texting war with this silly little womanchild. As if I enjoy paying taxes on someone who honestly wasn't that good, and as if we really have a choice? Aren't the only certainties in life death and taxes? But I digress. After pondering several different retorts and explanations, I simply texted back: "That's the law. Call me if you have any questions." Haven't heard anything back from her about it and I don't expect to. But bizarrely enough she did list DH as an employment reference and the prospective employer actually called... more proof that she isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Lucky for her, DH is way too nice of a guy to throw her under the bus even though she sucks in all of the areas one generally needs to be a decent employee. But around people we know really, really well DH is pretty candid. DH wishes he could tell this story to the Tea Partiers who think that "real Americans" like Sitter One are losing ground in this country to "all of the illegals who don't pay taxes." There you have it.

In other news, I realize the Oscars have come and gone, and I recall blogging about them last year... so that means my blogaversary has come and gone without even a mention. What can I say, I guess I'm still at it. Glad someone out there is still reading.

He's Over 3-Years-Old Now, and We Finally Finished His Room

Working on My Marriage

I haven't posted about my marriage in ages. Which naturally means things are going swimmingly because I have zero to bitch about at this time! I attribute this in large part to the fact that 1) neither of our kids is under the age of 12 months anymore, and 2) we have figured out how to communicate much, much more effectively.

I've beaten this one to death, but just want to reiterate that "Getting the Love You Want" by Harville Hendrix was a book both DH and I found very, very helpful and illuminating.

I also came across this very interesting little blog about working on marriage last week written by this earnest, adorable young married couple without kids (who BTW are VERY into Christianity though DH and I clearly are not, but no matter... whatever you believe, I suppose you just gotta be on the same page as your spouse with it, right?). They have these "Tuesday Night Questions" they ask each other that I think are absolutely ingenious:

1. How did you feel loved this past week?

2. What does your upcoming week look like?

3. How would you feel most loved & encouraged in the days ahead?

4. How would you feel best pursued in sex/intimacy this week?

Damn good questions, no?

These adorable young people get it. Harville Hendrix gets it. John Gottman and the myriad people he's co-authored relationship books with also get it.

I hope that someone out there on the internets, like me and DH, who is looking for answers to the problems in their relationships (problems that they know in their hearts to be solveable ones, NOT one of the 4 A's: addiction, abuse, adultery, abandonment) can get their hands on information like this. It literally saved my marriage. All those hard times not so long ago seem like distant memories. Believe it when people say there is an end to Survival Mode with a new baby.

Anyway, I'm off to a little date night with DH now. Wishing you and yours lots of romance, or even just a good lay this Valentine's Day weekend...

"Partisanship is the new Racism" ??

As quoted in the February 4, 2011 issue of "The Week" Magazine:

"Partisanship is the new racism. We love to criticize it, and we love to claim we've transcended it. We recognize it in our enemies but not in ourselves. When partisanship is seen as a form of social identity -- I'm a Democrat because people like me are Democrats, or I'm a Republican because people like me are Republicans -- we can understand why so many blue-collar Kansans are Republicans and why so many Silicon Valley billionaires are Democrats, even though each group's rational interests might be better served by the other party. Any liberal who supported George W. Bush's adventure in Iraq would have been ostracized by his friends. A conservative who feels Barack Obama is a cool president will be made to feel like a traitor at church."

-- Shankar Vendantam in Slate.com (read the full piece here.)

Two and a half years ago, we moved from a Big Blue City in a Red State, to a Small Red Town in a Blue State. DH and I bizarrely, and without much discussion, agree on nearly everything when it comes to politics. So much so, that we never really ever need to actually talk about it. We just send each other quotes and articles like the above, and nothing needs to be said because we are so much on the same page.

Sometimes I even forget that there really are people out here in Podunkville and elsewhere in the world who have Strong Opinions on Such Matters. And even an unfortunate few who need everyone else to agree with them... or else! I'd really like to think I'm not one of those people. I have friends of all political and apolitical stripes. My mom is a Democrat and my dad is a an ex-GOP-er, now Tea Partier, so I think, in a way, being raised without a single, dominant political viewpoint in my family-of-origin has made me relatively flexible in my political thinking.

I don't think any party has a monopoly on good ideas, and I tend not to be very One True Way about much anything. Except for Etiquette, that is. You wouldn't know it by all of the swearing I do, but I was raised with a few pretty hard-core rules of manners that to this day I find myself really believing in. Hand-written thank-you notes. Respect for elders: It's always Mr. or Ms. So-and-so. Ma'am and Sir. May I, Please, Excuse Me, and Thank you. Generally, it isn't proper to discuss sex, politics, or religion... (unless you have felt someone out thoroughly and know them very well... and/or perhaps live somewhere like DC or work in politics where it is a cultural norm).

One of the reasons I knew I had to leave El Shitty Book Club o' 23 Podunk Princesses was the time when the organizer affectionately quoted one of the other members who was missing that night, as having said about some other woman they knew: "Then M said 'She seems nice, but I'm really afraid she's a Democrat!!'" Everyone laughed. And no one except me even blinked an eye. And I wondered if I would pass this person's simple enough litmus test. I don't fit neatly into any of the usual categories. But then I thought about her overall demonstrated level of comprehension of some of the current political issues today, and realized that there were certain words I probably shouldn't use because she might not fully grasp their meaning, and I thought to myself, eh, fuck it. It isn't my job. I live in a small town now, just stay below the fray. Glad I took my own advice on that one.

Anyway, back to the quote at hand - when I first read it, part of me thought, um, actually isn't Racism still the same old Racism? We're just a lot more coded and careful about expressing it these days, but it's obviously still there. One of the comments to the original article suggested that Vendantam's analogy should have been to bigotry instead of racism, and I tend to agree.

Your thoughts?

In Which I Hope I Don't Offend Real Allergy Sufferers

What is wrong with my internal WTF? reaction to the following situation:

Ms. A, mom of a sweet 3-year-old kid who has just joined DS's one-morning-a-week co-op preschool class, shows up yesterday and suddenly says "My kid can't have any dairy" after the person whose turn it was to bring the snack for everyone put a piece of cheddar cheese on every kid's plate, then Ms. A's little guy sees it, wants it, and throws a major tantrum that results in Ms. A having to remove him from the preschool building. Once the little guy calms down, Ms. A bring him back and gives him his own snack of prunes and a banana, sitting him in a different room with her apart from all of the other children, who are eating snack together at one large table with their teacher.

Suddenly, a couple of the other parents are asking me, hey, what is going on!? Because I'm the person with the dubious distinction of being 'parent coordinator,' unfortunately. Aw, shit. And because not having all of the kids eat together with their teacher is apparently a big deal for some parents because they are worried that their kid will demand his/her own special snack, and to be able to eat with mom by herself.... actually that sounds like some potential shenanigan my son would try.

So I ask Ms. A, quietly, what her little boy's dietary restrictions are, and can I please let other parents know so when it is their turn to bring snack we won't have this happen again? (The school is already nut and gluten free, FYI). She says "Well, I don't want to force other parents to have to not bring certain foods." (Thinking to myself, ok so she wants the exact opposite of whatever she just said) I said "I hear you, and BTW we have a policy of being completely nut and gluten free already, so what specifically do we also need to avoid?" And she replied, "Last night my husband and I decided to eliminate all cow proteins from our sons' diets. No more cheese, no more dairy, no more non-organic beef because it is causing our sons' constipation. So we're trying a total elimination diet for 2 weeks to see if the constipation improves." (She said as her son gobbled down 4 prunes in 30 seconds... so perhaps hers isn't much of a scientific approach if her goal is to determine whether or not 'cow proteins' are in fact the cause of constipation, I thought to myself, snarkily.)

Suddenly the president of the co-op is chiming in over my shoulder, "Have you had your son tested for allergies?" I didn't know she was standing there. And at least two other parents are listening in. Ms. A said "No, but I've just been thinking lately about how bad anything from a cow is for you, and how humans were really never intended to eat cows and cow proteins, and how one time we went to this camp for the summer and the food was all vegetarian and no one in our family was constipated, and how when I serve only pure organic beef at home everyone is fine..." Then the kids finished their snack and I got pulled away from the conversation to attend to them, while the president continued to speak with Ms. A for a bit, and a few others continued to listen in.

And I realized my immediate reaction was to be pretty judgmental of Ms. A's entire line of reasoning. And I feel a bit bad about it, but not really. Look, for the record, I respect vegetarianism, veganism, pretty much any and all entrenched cultural & religious reasons for restricted diets, and obviously I fully support institutional restrictions of any foods that cause us and/or our children anything from mild oral discomfort to very serious, life-threatening illnesses. But... between you, me, and the internets, something about this scenario doesn't quite fall into this aforementioned "legitimate" category for me. Maybe because the overall tone of how it unfolded just rubbed me the wrong way? I really ought to give her the benefit of the doubt and go along with her pseudo-scientific thinking, right?

Then the president comes up to me and says "I think you should put the word out about it." Normally, I would send out an email, but honestly I am at a loss as to what to say, and how to describe what exact foods parents shouldn't bring from now on? We have a list of recommended snacks, but I have no idea if they'd be ok with Ms. A (and honestly, I'm irritated even thinking about having to find the list again and having to inquire - shouldn't that be Ms. A's burden?). Even though Ms. A said she didn't want to force other parents to comply with her self-imposed restrictions, Ms. A seemed pretty comfortable telling everyone about her family's diet, and I'm sure she would appreciate everyone doing their part to support her parenting choice (who wouldn't?), so maybe she would be ok with an email going out about it?

I'm of two minds about this. On the one hand, I wish Ms. A would have said something sooner, because it caused a disruption to the class, caused a bit of "drama" amongst the parents, and clearly seemed to make the parent who brought the cheese feel like an a-hole. While Ms. A's son is new to the preschool, her two older children attended there for years, so it is not like she was unfamiliar with the process. When she joined, I made it abundantly clear the multiple ways I and others are always reachable. Granted, I'm sure she didn't expect her son to throw a ginormous tantrum over some cheese... but let's be honest, wasn't it the least bit foreseeable in this context? Anyway, that's all my own problem of feeling irritated and eye-rollish. And I want to be clear, if she had lied and said this were something we needed to have an epi-pen ready to deal with, hush would have been ALL OVER it. I am one of those moms on the playground who has the epi-pen and knows how to use it, and BTW no one in my family is allergic to anything (yet). So maybe I should just be happy she was honest about the situation and the lack of severity.

I'm afraid if I send out an email it will sound all passive-aggressive in my head and I will over-analyze it obsessively. Could you all please tell me honestly what the kind thing to do is? Thank you for listening (I'm annoying myself now just re-reading this.)

How Does Montessori Do It?

This morning I took DS (aged 3 years, 3 months) to a local Montessori preschool for an in-class observation before we formally complete the registration paperwork and pay a deposit to secure his spot in this fall's entering class. The plan is for DS to go at least 3 mornings a week the year he turns 4 (this fall), and then either 4 or 5 mornings or full days a week (we'll see how the upcoming year goes) the year he turns 5; then he'll be off to our local public school for K-12. I've blogged about the public school choice issue before, and right now the plan is to send him to the school in our home district; I'm pretty sure we're not going to want to choice into the away district's dual language school when the time comes. Our friend's first grader is having a hellacious year there with the district's crazy, ineffective discipline policy (called "Make Your Day") and the administration has been no help, so we've pretty much written them off.

Today I was completely blown away by how this entire room of 3, 4, 5, and 6 year-olds was just so eerily quiet, with each and every child focused on their "work" (aka oddly interesting pieces of toddler & preschooler crack) at these small tables or on all of these neatly-arranged floor mats. Then I was blown away yet again by the fact that my son actually participated in this unspoken routine of his own volition (!!), without any type of struggle (!!), and was transformed right before my eyes into a model little citizen within this unique little world without needing much instruction. After an hour and a half of observation, the teacher (beloved by all in Podunkville, and I can see why) proclaimed he would fit right in, and said she looked forward to welcoming him this fall. Then she said she needed to make a note to herself not to ever touch him again without his permission first because he physically bristled at her when she touched his arm while she was showing him how to do a "work," and she said he was the first child in all her years to react in that particular way to her touch, and she was truly impressed. Huh? I almost fell over. I think I finally met someone who "gets" my kid! It was pretty cool that she chose to view his reaction in such a positive light, and formed a strategy for working with him that didn't automatically label him a misfit.

I can't stop thinking about how well DS meshed with this place. You recall that this is the kid who, once he turned the dreaded 3, had to quit pretty much every activity we used to enjoy. This is a kid who has a reputation of being just very hard in general, as in 'Your Spirited Child' to a T. So I was sure he'd hate the place. I've never been happier to say I was wrong!

Now I kind of want to know how it is that they do it. I understand that the term "Montessori" does not reflect a trademarked brand, and so it can mean a million different things depending on the school. Even in Podunkville we have 2 "Montessoris" - one that the locals refer to as "the real Montessori" meaning every kid has to go 5 days a week and commit to 3 years including Kindergarten; and the place we attended today, aka what the locals call "the fake Montessori" where there is flexibility as to the level of attendance. Anyway, I was majorly impressed, but left before I could really figure out the proverbial secret sauce they have going on in there. My guess is DS really connected with the getting to choose his own "work" to do, where he could just jump right in, and not have to sit there in a circle on a carpet square, and talk or listen to other people singing, or do craft projects he isn't into - which were the common themes of all the activities he now hates. Hmmm.....

Keeping My Mouth Shut

I kind of wish I was more of a talker sometimes. But the truth is I'm an introvert who sometimes manages to seem like an extrovert for awhile, but after a time my learned traits like carrying on a lot of small talk, and calling up someone to go see a movie or go to the mall with me go by the wayside, as I realize they are just not natural to my personality. The world seems to love extroverts - I'm learning to accept it, and to keep working to find my truest voice in social situations.

That being said, I am really good at keeping secrets - the good kind of secrets, anyway. When something is an obvious "need to tell" type of thing, I almost always find the courage to talk. Well, until this week anyway.

Something came to my attention recently regarding the "nanny" (Ms. H) of a local acquaintance of mine (Ms. S). (Note: to me, a real "nanny" is someone who actually lives on your property and works at least 40 hours/week. Anyone else is a "babysitter" or "day care provider/teacher." IRL, I would never, ever try to correct anyone on that point because, first of all, I'm not even sure my definition of "nanny" is technically correct. I just think the mis-use of the word "nanny" **in certain contexts** can sometimes make people seem overly pretentious and self-important. Not always, but sometimes, and in certain situations. I just think "babysitter" is so much more palatable, IMHO.)

So anyway back to my story. Another babysitter (Ms. D), who works for a local friend of mine (Ms. B) witnessed Ms. S's babysitter, Ms. H (an early-20-something with no kids of her own), treating one of Ms. S's four daughters inappropriately at a local indoor play gym. Ms. B told me that Ms. D told her that she saw Ms. H yelling across the gym at Ms. S's 6-year-old daughter, and refused to get up off her ass and actually go talk to the child about whatever she was doing that Ms. H felt she needed to scream about. So the little girl was running wild, Ms. H was yelling publicly, and Ms. D didn't like it one bit, but she also didn't say anything to Ms. H nor to the management of the play gym. (Sorry for all of these Ms.-so-and-so's, I hope this is not too hard to keep straight). Ms. B asked me what I thought she should do...

BTW, Ms. B and Ms. S are colleagues who do not know each other well; and Ms. D is in her 50's with 3 grown kids, and used to run a daycare that Ms. S's girls used to attend, before she sold the place and took up part-time babysitting.

I told Ms. B that I thought Ms. D should have addressed it directly with Ms. H or someone in authority, either at the time it happened, or immediately thereafter, if she really thought what she saw was so "inappropriate." I also said that I have seen Ms. H behaving very lovingly at this same gym towards two of Ms. S's other daughters, and I know Ms. S thinks the world of Ms. H and has taken her on several family vacations. Also, several of Ms. S's neighbors who are stay-at-home moms regularly play with the kids with Ms. H, and I have to imagine would report back to Ms. S if something were amiss.

Ms. B mentioned that this is a hard topic for her because when she used to live somewhere else, someone once reported to her that they saw her babysitter behaving inappropriately, and so she immediately fired her - but had nagging doubts about it. I agree that the "reasonable parent" when confronted with a report like that would probably have to let the sitter go immediately. I know I would - but part of the reason would honestly be not wanting to look like a crappy parent in the eyes of the person who reported the behavior to me! But on the other hand, no one can prove a negative. It would be like Ms. S saying to Ms. H, "prove to me that you did not scream at my kid in public."

I left Ms. B by saying she could call up Ms. S and let her know what Ms. D saw, and say something like "maybe you should talk to Ms. H about how you expect her to discipline the kids." I don't know though. My read on Ms. S is that she doesn't want her boat rocked and probably wouldn't fire Ms. H over this. I hate situations like this!! I feel like the so-called "right" thing to do here is eluding me. What say you, parenting goddesses?

Ski Season Comes to Podunkville

One of the best things about living in the middle of nowhere in the Pacific Northwest is the opportunity to live near a decent ski resort. DH and I both started skiing when we were in our early teens, and we only went about 4 or 5 days a year at most. So there is a huge gap between our level of ability (intermediate, don't enjoy moguls and ungroomed powder runs) and the ability level of people who are from this region and who started taking lessons at age 4 (a few of whom are more confident on skis than they are on their own feet). As DH says, "I am not out here trying to win Olympic gold, and I appreciate not breaking my ass."

Now that DS is 3 and is potty trained (wow- part of me can't believe I just typed that because it was such a long, non-linear journey to get there), he is ready for his first official 3-hour ski lessons, instead of just playing around with mom and dad on the rope tow. The local instructors are really good with the little ones, and they understand that at this age it is all about having fun and drinking hot chocolate afterwards.

We decided to do a season rental of real skis and boots for DS, which is super cheap here. He fits in the smallest ski boots and skis that they make. The boots are Salomon and have little rocket ship decals on them, which he loves because they remind him of Fuzz Lightbeer, naturally. And he has the cutest, shiny black ski helmet (which would fit most 5-year-olds, but he has a big head) that reminds us a little bit of Darth Vader or the Rick Moranis character from "Spaceballs."

DD has had a few tries on her plastic Happy Skis (the ones that strap over the snow boots.) She tolerates it for a little bit, but doesn't demand it like her brother did at the ages of 1 and 2. So she is most content to play in the day care at the base of the mountain while the rest of her family goes out to ski. In just a few more years, we will not be able to keep up with our kids, and they will want to run off to other parts of the mountain with their friends while we take it easy on the "boring" runs. So we'd better enjoy the brief days when we all can and want to ski together.

In other news, did anyone watch The Golden Globes? I did not sit through it, but I caught part of the red carpet chatter, and heard that some of my favorite shows "Mad Men" and "Boardwalk Empire" got accolades. I also saw an ad on TV telling me that another one of my favorites, "Justified" returns to FX on Wed, Feb 9th. I love me some gracefully-aging Timothy Olyphant. This should tide me over nicely until the return of "True Blood" to HBO hopefully this June. Did you hear about the homage to "True Blood" on "Sesame Street?" See it here, and be sure to watch for the Lafayette look-alike at the very beginning. There is also a "Sesame Street" that sends up "Mad Men" but it is not quite as entertaining, IMHO.

Starting on The Pill Later in Life

I am one of the only American women I know who has never taken any form of hormonal birth control. Until now, it had never felt right for me and my body, and I have a hard time articulating why. I know full well that it currently is and historically has been such a good fit for like pretty much everyone and their mom, forever. When I was a teen, my own mom (a relatively asexual being whose DH had a vasectomy right after I, their only child, was born) kind of sort of discouraged it with a couple of hints and some shoddy reasoning, while stopping short of having an actual birth control conversation with me - she's skilled at odd verbal acrobatics like that. In hindsight, I think she just didn't want me to ever perceive that taking the Pill would give me carte blanche to bed whomever free of consequences, because obviously it offers no protection against STDs. I think she thought somehow I wouldn't understand that basic scientific truth (duh, right!). Luckily I was resourceful and got my hands on the right books, and finally found The Bible on such matters: "Taking Charge of Your Fertility" by Toni Weschler. It seriously should replace the textbook for young women in junior high & high school sex ed classes. Can't wait to introduce it to my DD someday. I seriously credit this book with singlehandedly having helped me avoid unwanted pregnancy, because from it I learned all of my fertile signs by heart years before I officially needed to know them to start trying to conceive, and was basically using Fertility Awareness for years as a back-up to the various barrier methods I was using.

Another reason I missed out on the ritual of taking the pill during my "peak" fertility window of ages 18-35: I was a dork who starting having sex relatively late in college, at least when compared to my peers, so my need for reliable birth control was low. So a supercheap diaphragm, some spermicide, and a box of condoms pretty much got me through the 90s. I was working too hard and not having nearly enough sex. Meanwhile, nearly all of my closest friends who had started taking The Pill when they were between the ages of 16 and 18 pretty much stayed on it until well after age 30 when they started trying to get pregnant. Most had great, acne-free skin, and no trouble eventually conceiving. The only real negatives I ever heard about The Pill were breakthrough bleeding on occasion, and also the reports from three of my friends who suffer from migraines who were finally years later told by doctors "you should have never been given this kind of pill!" and who were then thankfully cured of their headaches once they switched to a different formulation.

Fast forward to the present day: this is my 35th year on the planet. I'm done having kids. I don't want to get my period anymore, and I would like the acne on my back to clear up. So yesterday I filled my first prescription for The Pill. It seems I am about to join the proverbial club. That said, the original plan was for DH to get a vasectomy - BUT as there unfortunately is no longer the local urologist who could do the 'no needle, no scalpel' technique here in Podunkville (good doctors don't stay here long) DH will have to wait until we have a couple of days free to get it done in a bigger city - so that means realistically it could be a few more years. I suppose I could have forced the issue and made him go see a local non-specialist who might eff up his junk, but honestly that's not the choice I would make for myself if I were in his shoes, obviously!

I guess my only question is, assuming The Pill works well for me and DH never gets a vasectomy, at what age do I eventually stop taking it? 45?? 50?? Or even later?? Hmm... My doctor didn't satisfactorily answer that one.

Ok, it's pithy link time. I'm sure most of you have already read or heard about Vanessa Grigoriadis' recent piece on "Waking Up From The Pill" - but if you've been living under a Cheerios-scented rock like me, maybe not. You can find it here. Recommended reading, though I have some issues with some of the assumptions she makes.

Your thoughts? What pill are you poppin'?

Drug Addict in the Family

It had been almost a year since DH had last heard from his little brother - who is actually not little at all, and is turning 31 soon, but generally behaves more like a teen so no one who has known him any length of time can quite believe he is truly a Grown Ass Adult. Last time we saw him, he was at a party at my parents' house in the middle of a blizzard, where one of my best friends and her husband overheard him making a phony phone call pretending to have lost his credit card - so that DH would loan him some money, which he did. Did I mention this party was actually our baby daughter's baptism, and that DH's brother was her godfather? Yeah.

So you can see from miles away where all of this is going.

Tonight, his brother emailed DH and both of their (divorced, now remarried) parents to reveal that in fact he is a coke and marijuana addict who is depressed, is an insomniac, was fired from his job, thinks he will probably be in legal trouble with regard to the circumstances of his firing, has no friends, has told more lies in the last 12 years than he can remember, has no identification, no documentation to be able to obtain identification, has no friends, and that his life basically sucks, and he is ashamed, sorry, and doesn't know what to do.

At this time, DH and I are trying to figure out if he is a threat to himself or to others. And what the best course of action is. Would DH hopping on a plane help matters? We live 2 time zones away but we have close friends in the city in which his brother lives in who work in psychological services, and can hopefully make some helpful suggestions/referrals.

Immediately after receiving the email, DH called his brother; they spoke for only a few minutes, then after they hung up DH just started sobbing. DH has felt a lot of what he calls survivor's guilt for having escaped their horrible family of origin, and built a healthy life for himself. DH had to fight back the knee-jerk reaction of wanting to call each of his parents (who BTW are each batshit crazy and Not Good People, but I suppose the good news is we all live on opposite coasts) because he really wants to let them know that he holds them responsible for having been such shitty parents to him, and even moreso to his brother.

As for me, I'm just sad, and I'm trying to be a good active listener, and to support DH the best I can. I suggested he set up an appointment with our therapist to process all of this. In a way, it is a real shock. The drug addiction piece does come as a surprise on the one hand, and yet on the other hand it certainly explains a lot of the behavior we've witnessed over the years but had chalked up to depression and personality disorders and general effed-up-edness.

It just feels really crazy tonight. And I feel so awful for DH.

My Brush With Widowhood

We had a major scare for our family the other day, just before noon on a sunny winter day. Luckily everyone is 100% fine, so I can blog about it now.

DH was driving home to meet us for lunch (I generally work from home and don't have any more business for the year), when a woman in her car very suddenly pulled out in front of him without looking, and t-boned the front passenger side of his car. Our car is totaled, and will be in the shop for at least a month. No one was hurt - and that's what really matters! Cars can be fixed. The other driver admitted total fault. One of DH's fantasy football buddies, B, who we've had longstanding plans to get together with for their holiday Open House, was one of the police officers immediately on the scene. He drove DH home. B is a widower who remarried after his first wife was killed in a car accident at age 45.

When they arrived on our doorstep, I had a horrible flash of what it would have been like if DH had been hurt or worse, and B was the one who showed up on our doorstep to give me the news, with DS standing next to me and DD napping upstairs.

We are just so lucky that neither of the kids were in the car with him. The impact would have been on DS's side of the car. Oh, my heart hurts just thinking about it!

You believers out there, say your prayers tonight. The rest of us, hug your kids tight, because the simple fact that we're even alive and kicking right now means we are so lucky, I can't even fully comprehend it.

We heart the Pediatric Dentist

Today I took both the kids to the Pediatric Dentists' office, who are relatively new in town, and have actual fellowship training in the field of pediatrics. But their biggest qualification in my son's eyes is the cool train set and tunnel slide they have in the waiting room, along with the kids' movies they play on ceiling-mounted TVs over every exam chair. There is one other local, self-proclaimed "Pediatric Dentist" in Podunkville who is suspect, and is all about cheesy marketing tactics like pictures of himself with each patient turned into a refrigerator magnet in primary colors with a fugly font (design snob coming out here), and pushing of freaky baby teeth extraction, which is IMHO way too aggressive of an approach for a child under the age of 6 without any permanent teeth! Anyway... DS has been going every few months just to have his teeth brushed well, and to acclimate him to sitting in the exam chair. It has taken about 9 months, but he has finally warmed up to the idea of letting the dentist look in his mouth for several minutes at a time. And today was his first tear-free visit!

Because DS was on the bottle for a ridiculously long time (3 years, ugh).... I was sure he'd have massive teeth problems, so we have been extremely proactive about dental care. Happy to report there isn't anything wrong with his teeth as a result of our inability to get him bottle-free on a more normal timeframe. He is a big fan of strawberry flavored toothpaste and mouth rinse at home, and chocolate flavored toothpaste is a special treat reserved for going to the dentist.

As we were leaving, and DS was about to get a prize, he suddenly asked the hygienist where the potty was, and he went. I had a realization: holy shit, my kid finally is really, truly, and actually potty-trained! Thank you baby Jebus!!

DD did really great during her very first dental visit today, as well! She loves to get her teeth brushed - all 6 and a half of them. She has 4 on top, two on the bottom, and the dentist discovered that about half of a molar has erupted on her top right side. Hmm, so that explains the nighttime crankiness we experienced recently. I had a damn hard time going back to sleep after her first wake-up, but I had mis-attributed it to having watched a superscary episode of "Celebrity Ghost Stories" on the Biography Channel. Note: it is not only the tales of hauntings that are scary, it is the visuals of these once-beautiful celebs I recall from childhood having turned into old people and/or bad plastic surgery cases! Yikes!!

Speaking of ghost stories, I want to send a thank you shout-out to Caramama and Paola for their recommendation of the delicious gothic book "The Thirteenth Tale" by Diane Setterfield. It was my pick for the non-shitty book club I just joined, and so far it seems to have raised my esteem in some of the other members' eyes.

'Benign Neglect' of the '70s and '80s

"One sometimes sees these exhausted, devoted, slightly drab parents, piling out of the car, and thinks, Is all of this high-level watching and steering and analyzing really making anyone happier? Can we, for a moment, flash back to the benign neglect of the 1970s and '80s? I can remember my parents having parties, wild children running around until dark, catching fireflies. If these children helped themselves to three slices of cake, or ingested secondhand smoke from cigarettes, or carried cocktails to adults who were ever so slightly slurring their words, they were not noticed; they were loved, just not monitored. Those warm summer nights of not being focused on were liberating. In the long sticky hours of boredom, in the lonely, unsupervised, unstructured time, something blooms; it was in those margins that we became ourselves." -- Katie Roiphe in the Financial Times (as quoted in the December 3, 2010 issue of The Week)

Does Roiphe's jaunt down memory lane/dig at modern parenting strike you as gospel or gorilla shit? (...to steal a delightful line from "True Blood"'s Queen Sophie-Anne)?? Discuss.

We have a daughter, too, who gets short shrift like 24/7

Thirteen and a half months ago, I gave birth to a healthy, sweet, and dare I say, perfect little daughter. And no lie, it has taken me just about that long to finally catch my breath! At long last I feel like my old self again. I haven't mentioned my once-troubled marriage in awhile, and I think that old adage "no news is good news" definitely fits. We're really good, actually. Finally. Whew. Survival Mode is officially over. Now I think I can finally process it all.

If I'm honest, I do have some regrets. Which sucks. I regret not reading to DD more, not holding her more; not trying to co-sleep a little longer than we did - we had our reasons at the time, but I regret the fact that DD is not quite as cuddly as I assumed every baby would be, like her older brother was and is. Her room is not even fully decorated yet - and decor is one of my passions!

DH admitted to me the other day that it took him about a year to really, truly form a bond with DD. And I hate to say it, but it took me awhile, too.

I feel like so many of my posts have been about my firstborn. When I was a new parent reading other parent bloggers it always seemed like their first child was their favorite because it was all they ever really talked about. Now I get it. So I want to write a few things about DD that make us smile: (bragging alert)

* She is seriously a beautiful kid. (I know, every parent thinks that. But seriously, a part of me does worry about her being way too cute in this life, and how this might have a negative impact on her ability to be treated fairly in some future corporate-type career. Silly, I know.)
* The girl can eat like a champ! And she demands to hold large pieces of food by herself, and run around with them like she did recently with the turkey leg at Thanksgiving.
* She walked ridiculously early, and now she is such an amazingly graceful little toddler. She can go up and down the stairs all by herself, she can carefully climb pretty much anything, as well as open and close the back door to let the dogs out upon request. People always think she is older than she is because of it - especially when she walked into the exam room at her 9 mos. check-up. The dr. (a father of 4) could not believe his eyes.
* She is a by-the-book sleeper. Yes, THAT book. The same one I fucking hated when I read it back in 2007 for some other child who shall remain nameless. Eff you, Doktor Wize Blue Tooth!
* Her first name is something that most dumbass Americans cannot seem to pronounce, even though it looks just like it sounds. Hooked on phonics didn't work for us. On the bright side, it is a top 25 name currently in most of the countries in western Europe, so hopefully she won't seem so stereotypically American when she backpacks around the globe someday.
* Her poops are the smelliest things DH and I have ever had the privilege of smelling. For real.

Brag to me about yours - and show some love to those later-born kids.

Bilingual vs. Regular School

School options here in Podunkville are extremely limited. When the time comes to enroll DS into K only 2 short years from now, there are 2 local public school districts we could select from; either of which are basically good enough for me & mine, but neither is perfect (alas, exactly as it is with most things in life!!)... There are also loads of Christian schools and one Catholic school that honestly don't provide a very good non-religious education, and there is also a strong homeschooling community - which I personally don't have the teaching skills nor the intestinal fortitude to manage. So public school it will almost certainly be.

We live in WA state, and there is a choice program through which you can apply to send your kids to a school outside of your home district. You provide the transport - not a problem, because we live close enough to Away District, where DH works. Here is our dilemma:

Away District has a robust bilingual elementary school (English/Spanish) that gets awesome reviews on the language instruction, but not very good reviews on any of the other subjects. But most disturbingly, the discipline program Away District uses is not one that is based upon any research whatsoever; it's not among the recommended programs approved by the Federal Department of Education, and it has gotten the panties of many of the local parents who are professionals so extremely bunched up as to make me think the people on the school board are actually trying to get voted out of office. In a nutshell, the way the discipline program works is that kids are incentivized to tell on each other and have other kids get sent to time out (they call it something else though) for "interfering with their learning." The discipline piece of the puzzle is a total shitshow that everyone hates... except the part where the kids are learning their non-native language so amazingly well tends to make up for it enough in some friends' minds.

Home District has a discipline program that nobody bitches about. Test scores are about the same, for whatever that is actually worth. Class sizes are much smaller. I like how they break up the grades into different schools, so there are elementary schools, an intermediate school, the jr high, then a high school with grades 10-12. The smaller Home District high school doesn't offer as many AP classes as the larger Away District 's high school does, but then again due to a smaller size, there are fewer kids falling through the proverbial cracks. There is no bilingual education for English-speaking students to learn Spanish, apart from standard high school Spanish classes which IMHO by then it is way too late to ideally start learning a foreign language. In short, it is more like a run of the mill, average suburban/rural American public school.

Why am I thinking about something I don't need to even think about until 2 years from now? Because if we want to choice in to Away District, I've been advised to meet right now with the very nice principal at the bilingual school so that he is familiar with our family, in case they decide in the future to no longer accept choice applications. (I'm told in a small town, it can't hurt to actually know someone, and that has always proven true for us so far.) That idea has been bounced around so they can appear more "selective"- because right now so many of the higher SES in-district students have opted-out of the school, either because ideologically, they are on the political right and don't want to encourage anyone to speak anything but English in this country, or they are afraid the discipline program is going to scar their children and/or cause the kids to hate school, or they are really religious or feeling like homeschooling is the way.

Oh, and I should also say that my kids' babysitter speaks to them in her native Spanish a lot of the time she watches them, which is 3 days/week.

Give a sister your thoughts, please.

I finally feel like I have actual friends in this town!

You all know I've had a lot of insecurity about making friends in Podunkville. I swear, for the longest time I was feeling like I had one, maybe two real friends in this wacky little town we've been calling home for the last 28 months. Early on, I met a few douchey types who were haters and had issues. I can't stand Mean Girl stuff, and like Flock of Seagulls, I ran, I ran so far away at the first whiff of it. (Sing along if you like.)

So I waited, and watched, and accepted invitations to shit I really didn't want to go to where they were reading books I didn't want to read, and selling things I didn't want to buy, and I just diligently, genuinely tried to get to know as many people as I could.

I got obsessive about remembering people's names & stories & little tidbits of info about their lives, and I wrote lots of thank you notes and sent lots of random emails & texts of things like 'hey, this reminded me of you,' and of my gratitude, and openness to new friendships, and I brought dinner to people I hardly knew when they had babies or were sick, and I remembered birthdays, and I got involved in some charities... Soon I was going to the park, and to baby showers, and to happy hours where I knew several of the people and they knew me, and small talk became so much less awkward.

Then one day (last Friday actually) I'm sitting there at dinner... with 13 local women who all showed up to take me out on the town for my birthday. I could not fucking believe it, but I actually have made some real friends here. I went into the ladies room and looked at myself in the mirror in disbelief. Finally!!! I'm not anonymous anymore in this town. People would actually notice if I went missing.

If you would have told me that this time last year & even a few months ago, when I seriously thought there was something wrong with me because nothing was clicking with anyone, I never would have believed you. BUT... let's be real, I'm not going around flying my atheist flag in people's faces, and we're definitely not talking politics... and I have to say, things are very pleasant, and finally feel comfortable about it.

Anyway. "Keep putting yourself out there" and "give of yourself" turned out to be damn spot on advice.

Thank you to all my bloggy friends who have been here for me, listening to my cursing and whining, and reassuring me that I wasn't a total loser.

Discipline... it takes a lot of work

October was the month when pretty much the entire world started telling us that our delightful little 3-year-old needed some discipline. DH has been trying to tell me that for some time now, and I was in denial. Not anymore. When his sweet babysitter who takes care of him 3 days a week told me in tears that she thought he needed some discipline because he called her a "fucking bitch" who is "not my mama" and can't tell him what to do as he threw blocks at her and his baby sister, and screamed "nooooo" whenever she asked anything of him... um, yeah. I knew we needed to get serious about it. Did I mention she raised 3 kids of her own, so this is not some childless ninny who has never dealt with a kid throwing a tantrum-- she knows her shit about kids. That was quite a wake-up call.

So pretty much that's what I've been doing with my free time lately, instead of blogging and enjoying the blogs of others. But I'm back now. Allow me to share what I've been learning.

We started off by incorporating what seems to be the most popular discipline method these day: The Time Out. I found the book "1,2,3 Magic" at the thrift store, read it in about 20 minutes, and discovered it is really easy method to do, and seems to work as long as DS is not supertired. Don't go buy the book though, seriously here is all you need to know: Kid does something you want him to STOP doing. You say "That's 1." He continues? You say "That's 2." He keeps doing it? You say "That's 3. Take 5." (All of this is said calmly and without anger, BTW, with no other talking and explanations on your part.) Then you escort him to time out. Serious infractions like hitting and pushing are an immediate "That's 3. Take 5." Rinse. Repeat. In our house, the time out area is the back porch outside, because there is no way my son will sit still on a step or on the sofa. And he certainly won't go to time out on his own.

We actually had success with this method in terms of teaching that certain behavior has consequences. He says "fucking bitch" or pushes down his baby sister = he goes to time out, and we know he gets it.

That all being said, I had some reservations about the use of Time Outs generally based on conversations I have had over the last several years with certain child psychologists and parents I know. One of my best friends is an expert in this area, and I went to her and described what was going on in my home. Her opinion is that Time Outs in general do help to protect children from potentially greater harms like spanking and verbal/emotional abuse, and they are useful for parents who have multiple children and not a lot of time to talk with and to work individually with each child; but they are not the ideal method, especially for dealing with boys. (Ouch!) Her belief is that Time Outs risk teaching kids that when they are feeling these kinds of out-of-control, big scary emotions, the people who love them most will withdraw from them and make them be by themselves because they can't handle the child and don't accept them at that moment. And that sense of rejection over time, and the inability to work together with their parents on managing those tough emotions can allegedly hurt a child's emotional development. (Definitely food for thought, but not what I wanted to hear. I'd ideally like a quicker fix - note above the time-crunched parents... yep, that's me!)

She suggested instead of putting him in Time Out every time he crosses the line, we should think about incorporating some therapeutic techniques to help teach him emotional self-regulation. Things like proper breathing from the diaphragm, using words to name the emotion he is experiencing, role playing with dolls, and doing art together. At first my thought was "this is kind of touchy feely for me, but I'm willing to give it a try"... and now I'm glad I did, because I have been pleasantly surprised. DS has really enjoyed the art we have been doing with him - things like getting a crayon and paper and asking him to draw a bunch of circles to show opposite emotional states: "draw HAPPY!!, ok, now draw sad." "draw EXCITED!!, now draw bored." etc. It has been interesting. And I have noticed that he is a bit more aware of the effect of his behavior on others, and a bit more able to explain what he is feeling in a much more verbal way. Who would have thought that therapeutic play could work so quickly? My friend suggested a book for me about children's art therapy for laypeople that I hope to read for more activities for us to do.

The final lesson we've been trying to incorporate is to remember to give attention to, and to realistically praise his "good" behavior. Like those rare moments when he is quietly playing with a toy for awhile, we try to remember to give him the same level of attention we would give him if he were doing something "naughty" like trying to throw that toy through the window. I have seen many parents who only really pay attention to misbehavior because it is so hard to ignore - but it is challenging to remember to notice the good behavior, too: the sharing, the respectful play, the spontaneous kisses he gives his sister when he thinks no one is watching...

Anyway, it has been quite a journey for all of us this month, and I'm happy to say I'm feeling better about DS and his current place in the world as a spirited, determined, sharp little dude.

Your thoughts?

Halloweenies

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.

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.

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....)

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.

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.

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?

"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?

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?

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.