Thu - September 14, 2006

Crocodile Hunter


This week, Davis asked to watch the one and only DVD of the Wiggles that we own: the one in Australia with Steve Irwin. We haven't watched it for years, but I knew that he heard about Mr. Irwin's death and figured that wanted to watch it as a respectful memorial.

Well, not so much.

After it was over, I asked how he liked it.

"Not really, Mama. They didn't show the stingray part."

Sigh....

Posted at 10:12 PM    

Sun - July 2, 2006

Bugs


So far for me the biggest surprise of motherhood has been all the bugs.

I spent a lifetime avoiding bugs. Others may claim that my constant string of steady boyfriends from the ages of 18 - 25 was a deep seated fear of being alone or an inability to embrace independence or something like that. Nope. I just wanted someone around to kill the bugs. I hated bugs. I was afraid of bugs.

Now? Now, my life revolves around bugs. Honestly, we spend most of our time catching bugs. Last night, a full 30 minutes was devoted to running outside and catching lightning bugs in our hands. Our bare hands.

If we find a spider in the house, I am not allowed to kill it. "Spiders are helpful, Mama," I'm told. We gently release it into the outside. (except when the kids are in bed.....then I squish the damn things. shhh...don't tell...)

Now - now I am growing bugs in my basement.

Dana is turning caterpillars into butterflies:



Doug's mom sent her a kit. We sent away for our caterpillars and they arrived within days. Tiny little things. In a jar. They ate and ate and ate and grew and grew and grew. Then, they all climbed to the top of the jar and attached themselves to the paper and formed chrysalises. (Is that the correct plural? who knows?)

Lucky me - I got to transfer the things from the jar to the net. Two of them didn't make it and fell on the floor. The rest are still hanging from the paper which I taped to the side of the net. We must have cheap tape because I have to re-hang them every morning.

You don't even want to know the amount of time we spend watching our caterpillar chrysalises. Sometimes they wiggle. They wiggled a bit while I transfered them.

Evidently, the ugly scrawny caterpillars we got in the mail will be transformed into beautiful butterflies by the end of the week. And even I have to admit that this is a little bit cool. (Shh...don't tell...I have a reputation as a bug-hater to uphold here.)

Posted at 10:01 AM    

Sun - April 16, 2006

Easter


The egg hunt at church:



Dana agreed to wear a dress for the first time since Christmas. (But she insisted on the pink cowboy boots.)



Davis and the easter baskets.

Despite a day of rain, rain, rain....it was a very nice Easter. (And my wonderful husband cooked steak for dinner. Can't beat that.)

As for the bus situation resolution - Dana and her friend (the boy around the corner) worked it out delightfully on their own. They plotted out a strategy of what they would do if she was teased again. (i.e. came up with responses - on their own - like "It hurts my feelings when you say that" and my personal favorite: "In a few years, you will be very jealous that we are such good friends.") Evidently, the act of coming up with a strategy is all it took. There has been no more teasing.

It took every ounce of self-restraint for me not to interfere and solve it for her. I'm so very proud that she proved she can handle some of this growing up stuff on her own.

When I see her in pictures like those above, I have to stop and catch my breath. See, to me, she still looks like this:



...of course, back then, she'd wear dresses every single day....my, how time flies.

Posted at 08:53 PM    

Sat - February 4, 2006

V Day


Davis goes to a private granola-crunchy parent-cooperative preschool. Every snack is organic. Every toy is all-natural. I am the only mother at morning circle-time who is wearing a cute sweater twin-set from Ann Taylor. (Frankly, I I suspect I might be the only mother who shaves her legs - we'll find that out this summer.)

Dana goes to the local public school which is located in one of the poorest neighborhoods in all of Madison. These schools are about 1.5 miles apart in distance....but about 1,000 miles apart in school culture.

Each school sent home instructions for Valentines Day this week.

Davis' said:
1) NO SUGAR ON VALENTINES DAY
2) Please bring in handmade cards for each child in the class. Cards made out of organic materials or recycled paper are best. (OK, so they didn't really say anything about organic materials...but I just can't resist. It's the James Frey in me. Trust me - they'd say it if they could.)
3) No candy, no cookies, no cake, NO SUGAR
4) Did we mention no sugar?

The other said:
1) The student senate is raising money through a lollipop sale. Please bring in fifty cents to buy a lollipop. Pops will be delivered on Valentines day.
2) We're having a party on Valentines Day. If you can, please sign up to bring one of the following: Ice Cream, Chocolate Sauce, Candy Hearts, Other Candy, Cookies, Cake, Plates, Cups, Plastic Spoons.

I can see it now. In the morning rush, I get mixed up. And I send the bags of candy hearts and chocolate sauce and plastic spoons to Davis' preschool. And the handmade construction paper heart cut-outs and the organic tofu sugarless snack to Dana's Kindergarten class.

That would be bad.

We'll have to save some of the candy for Davis to enjoy after his preschool morning, too.....No sugar on valentines day? Not in my house! Bring on the Necco Candy Hearts!

Posted at 01:10 PM    

Mon - November 28, 2005

Great Big Grandma 


Davis calls his great-grandmother "great big grandma." She is under 5 feet tall, and is petite in every way, so I'm really not sure where that comes from. It makes me laugh, though, every time he says it.

And we needed the laughter this weekend as we were visiting. She broke her hip a few weeks ago and is currently in a nursing home. Nursing homes are tough places for me. I envision the end of life to be a poignant, meaningful time - surrounded by my 22 great-grandchildren (hey - a mom can dream) and my 4 cats. (I plan on living into my 90s and becoming one of those crazy women who own cats.)

I don't envision a nursing home. The nursing home Doug's grandmother in is nice - very nice. It has a huge birdcage with exotic birds. It has social areas. It is clean. The people are very nice and there are a lot of volunteers. But it is still a nursing home. It still smells like a nursing home. And sounds like a nursing home. And is full of people who can no longer take care of themselves. Being there made me sad.

But Davis - he loved it. He didn't get nervous when the lady with the stroke kept following him and asking him to kiss her. He just smiled and laughed at her and made her day. The oxygen tanks didn't bother him. Wheelchairs - those were cool. He sang songs and danced down the hallways, saying "hi" to everyone he saw. (Doug told me, "of course he likes it - he has a captive audience here.")

I think every nursing home should bring in a few 3 year old boys as regular visitors.

photos:

First, Davis had to investigate his great-grandmother's ears. (she is having some trouble hearing, so he wanted to check things out.)




Then he thought he'd hold her hand and make funny faces:



Finally, a kiss, of course:


There is almost a 92 year age difference between Davis and his "great big grandma" - but you'd never know it when you are with them. 

Posted at 09:45 PM    

Sun - October 9, 2005

I ran, I ran so far away 


Well, I did it. I did my 20 mile run yesterday. It took me 3 hours and 40 minutes. I'm someone who thinks that driving 20 miles is a huge pain in the ass, so running that far was a bit odd to me.

But I felt great, and it all went fine. It's all tapering from here!

The *real* training actually happened after the run. What I'm really training for is my solo-parent flight immediately post-marathon, so I schlepped up the kids after my run yesterday and did the best "crazy afternoon" simulation I could think of: the three of us went to the Children's Museum, the Capitol grounds, a Toy Store, the Grocery Store, and the Gas station.

We survived. If I can do all those errands alone w/kids on a busy Saturday afternoon after running 20 miles....really, a simple little flight after running 26.2....how bad can it be?
 

Posted at 09:27 PM    

Tue - October 4, 2005

Lifetime Parenting Achievement Award 


I've scaled new heights. Tonight, I was told:

"Mama, you are the MEANEST MOMMY IN THE ENTIRE SOLAR SYSTEM."

I blame my mother - who thought that buying her dear grandchildren books on the planets and sun would broaden their horizons. Evidently, it just broadens their insults.
 

Posted at 09:07 PM    

Thu - April 7, 2005

I am now officially a soccer mom 


D. started on her very first soccer team today. The practice field is around the corner from our house, so it is nice and convenient. (At least that is my rationale for breaking my "only one activity at a time" rule. Gymnastics isn't over yet...and here we are starting soccer.)

It's a U6 team (that's "under 6" for the non-soccer-mom readers....yeah, I had to ask someone too.) D and her best friend are the only two 5 year olds. The rest are are six...and boys.

As we approached the field, she squeezed my hand hard and whispered, "I don't know if I can to do this, mama. I'm scared."

As soon as practice started, I thought it was going to be a huge disaster. One of the coaches (let's call him Coach B) is very laid back and shares our philosophy of "let's all just have fun and get some exercise here." But the other coach (Coach A, I'd say) is very dedicated and determined, and he wants a winning team, dammit. His emphasis was not so much on fun as it was on technique and teamwork and scoring goals. I thought D. would melt under his direction - burst into tears - run off the field - claim "I hate soccer and I'm never doing this again."

But she surprised me. She stuck in with it - even though I could tell she was scared to death during the very first drill. She did great and had a great time. She didn't get intimidated by the older boys or the coach. I was so proud of her. Heart-bursting proud of her.

We talked to Coach A after the game. He's a very nice guy. He complimented D. and asked if she had fun. He turned to us and told us that she was a few years behind the 6 year old boys in terms of technique. (His son is one of the 6 year old boys.) This is certainly a true statement. I explained that this was her first time on a soccer team...ever. He smiled and suggested that we practice with her at home.

Then he explained that originally, this team was supposed to be only the 6 year old boys. He was excited to work with the team and "bring them up to the next level." But "someone in the school district rec program" decided that the team needed some girls on it for some reason, hence the inclusion of D and her friend.

Am I a bad mother if I at that very moment I visualized a future soccer game in which my darling, sweet, shy, novice 5 year old daughter kicked some ass and blew right by those 6 year old boys and scored a winning goal?  

Posted at 10:29 PM    

Tue - March 22, 2005

Oh Joy. 


The top keywords to land strangers here today were:

Bad Parenting, Working

What? Were they watching me today as I simultaneously helped color Thomas the Train picture sheets one-after-another with one hand and sorted my prospect list for a 3,000 piece mailing with the other? As I plopped the kids in front of PBSkids.org in order to call and figure out why the printer only delivered half the pieces to the mailhouse? As I served hot dogs and canned fruit and danimals for lunch instead of a nice, home-cooked healthy meal of fresh foods?

Yes, welcome to my world of balancing parenting and working. Most of the time work doesn't creep into the day when I'm home with the kids. It only creeps in at night, after the kids are asleep. But today, it crept. Oh boy, did it creep. All day long.

I'd like to think that I'd have my days of bad parenting even if I weren't working part time. That I'd still have days of hot dog lunches and coloring with only one hand and putting the kids in front of the TV or computer in order to solve a problem of some kind.

But no, I'm a working mother. All my faults immediately get blamed on the "working" part. C'est la vie.




 

Posted at 09:01 PM    

Which is it? 


Our local paper picked up two Associated Press stories and ran them in different sections of the paper.

One focused on how insanely busy American families are. Lessons every day! Dinner at 10 pm!

The other said we all watch too much TV and are couch potatoes.

Which is it? Neurotic overachievers or lazy couch potatoes?

Granted, that particular TV article focused on college students. But I've seen other articles just like it recently.

I guess stories about boring people who aren't terribly over-scheduled and watch a moderate amount of TV don't sell papers?

And why would those insanely busy people let an associated press reporter chronicle their schedule like that? Aren't they embarrassed? (Of course, we let an associated press reporter chronicle the fact that our first child screamed constantly , so who am I to judge?) 

Posted at 08:46 PM    

Mon - February 14, 2005

Desperate Housewives 


I'm addicted. As much as I trash "trashy TV" - I must admit I'm addicted to this one.

It's so surreal. No housewives I know wear those clothes or have those houses.
We're not having affairs with the plumber or the gardener. The closest we come to illicit extra-martial activities is to discuss the merits of "Steve vs. Joe" or "With which Kratt brother would you like to be stranded on a desert island?" or even "Which would you most like to kick out of bed: Anthony or Greg or Murray or Jeff"

And just for the record:
a) Steve
b) Chris (though my sister prefers Martin)
c) All of them. Can't stand the lot of them. I'm a Ralph's World girl, myself. 

Posted at 09:13 PM     Read More  

Mon - January 31, 2005

Scent of a Woman 


99.999% of the time, I think we have somehow, due to pure dumb luck, stumbled into the perfect life-balance of "parenting-working-school-marriage."

I have an incredibly flexible part-time job that I really enjoy. My husband works full time and though he travels, his schedule is also very flexible. The kids go to a preschool that they adore 2 days/week and then to a home daycare with all of their best friends 1 day/week. When I pick them up, it usually takes me 30+ minutes to get them to leave. They never want to go home.

I get a intellectual outlet, but I'm still completely home with the kids 4 days/week. D gets to do his dream job, but he's still really involved in family life. And because I'm working, we can afford to save generously for retirement, college and the rest. I couldn't wish for a better situation, really.

But then, there is that .001% of the time that I want to give it all up and never let my baby boy out of my sight. Ever. Tonight, for example. There is a preschool teacher he has a crush on. She's not his teacher, but is in the class next door. He talks about her all the time and she is madly in love with him as well. (It's a Christian preschool....there is a lot of love and hugging).

Tonight, he crawled in my lap and told me about his day, and of course told me about her. Miss S. sang "Ring around the Rosie" and "Here we go Round the Mulberry Bush" today.

And then I smelled her.

Her perfume. On my little man.

I *know* I should be thrilled that so many people love my little boy. It takes a village, no?

But after a long day of meetings and arguments with Citrix and Microsoft at the office, the last thing I want to do is come home to the scent of another woman. One who knows all the words to "Here we go round the Mulberry Bush," no less. 

Posted at 06:26 PM    

Mon - December 20, 2004

Hey, it works 



D2 has some virus that isn't quite pink eye and isn't quite a cold...but causes immeasurable amounts of eye goop to excrete from his eye. So, I'm home with him today and persuaded the doctors to prescribe some eye drops.

We went to the drive-through at the Walgreens to pick up the prescription. And then drove immediately to the nearest store that sold Thomas the Train engines. We parked right in front of the store, and I climbed into the back seat with D2.

"Honey, Mommy has some tickle drops for your eyes. After we put the tickle drops in your eyes, we will go into that store right there and get you a new Thomas engine. OK?"

He got all excited and let me put the drops in without even a murmur. (Eye drops in a 2 year old boy without any resistance. I cannot overstate the unusualness of this occurrence.)

And one $16.99 purchase later, we were on our way home for a nap with our new buddy Henry .

Back in the day (long, long ago) when I had a career, we had to bribe Russian officials to get permits and such for our company operations. Once, I was carrying thousands of US dollars through the streets of Moscow, taped to my body, under my clothes. All for bribes.....or as we called them, "expedited permits."

Now, I bribe 2 year olds, scrunched in the back seat of a big blue mini-van.

If that isn't progress, I don't know what is. 

Posted at 03:05 PM    

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