February 21, 2013
So, Mr. Mouse is outside shoveling the 47 inches of snow we got today in order for him to get the van in the garage (what a day to have the truck on the shop).
I’m pretty sure he had to shovel our driveway AND the street thanks to today’s snowpacolypse/snownami/snownado/snowtorious b.i.g./blizzard of oz. (I know I’m missing some.)
So, to recap… I got to stay home and have fun (and snow ice cream!) with my favorite girls while he went to work all day, then came home to physical labor.
And now, said favorite girls are in bed and I’m on the sofa with the remote… while he’s still outside working.
Obviously, I’m winning.
February 19, 2013
- My child is at someone’s house for lunch and play time and I’m terrified that she will be rude and/or naughty. She is four. Chances are, I’m right and she will be both rude and naughty. Also, chances are I’m worried that the other mother will judge me as a bad parent. I’m not sure why I care? I don’t care about the people who are judging me as I walk through Target with a screaming, fit-throwing child, but I care about the kind, Christian woman who has three young children of her own judging me? Do I judge other mothers so quickly – no, I’m usually just happy it is someone else’s turn (besides mine) to be having a kiddo who is having a bad day. So crazy how our insecurities come out. I feel like I could write a lot more about this. Perhaps another day.
- I decided on a whim today to get Pipsqueak’s hair cut. It was her first legit hair cut. I’ve trimmed it in the back lots of times, but this was a real all over hair cut. Photos to come. I took her to the kid haircut place with the cars and cartoons. We were the only one’s there and I asked about ethnic hair. I mean I don’t know much about caring for ethnic hair and I actually have a head of ethnic hair that I’m responsible for. It turns out that they have someone there who is a pro at ethnic hair (Miss Roxy – which is a super great name). So, now I’m thinking of taking Baby Swiss for her first legit hair appointment, but I’m a little concerned about getting in trouble for doing everything wrong for the last 4+ years. Hi there, More Insecurity.
- Hmmm…I’m sensing a theme here. I think I’ll wrap this up in favor of not sending myself into the downward spiral of doubting myself at every turn.
- Now where are those chocolate bars?
February 18, 2013
Baby Swiss has her first real legit play-date tomorrow.
Like, her friend’s mom is taking her home after preschool, feeding her lunch and letting her play for awhile before I go pick her up.
I mean she’s played with other kiddos before when I’m not present, but it is always because I have a dentist appointment or something and my friend is doing me a favor.
I’m feeling like this is one of those momentous occasions of my baby growing up.
And yes, I know the other child’s mother well enough to feel fine about all of it, etc.
February 15, 2013
If you follow me on twitter, you can disregard this entire post.
Yesterday was Baby Swiss’s Valentine’s Day party at preschool.
She wrote her little name on all of her sweet tart (obvs) Valentines for her classmates.
No names on the To: line to salvage the sanity of the preschool teacher.
I was excited for her to have her first Vday exchange and come home with the fun goodies that you expect at this sort of thing.
Also, as a dutiful class mother, I delivered my assigned juice boxes to the door for the class party.
So naturally, come 11:30, I’m excited to hear about the party.
We pick her up, she and Pipsqueak hug each other in the hallway and we head off to the van whilst she remains mostly mute – as per the norm.
Once in the van, I start asking about the party.
I’m horrified to learn that the mom who signed up for treats brought fruit.
I mean fruit is great. I love fruit. It’s tasty and it is good for you.
(Do NOT get me started on the fruit is sugar and sugar is bad for you people. Seriously. Do. Not.)
So, I’m like “Oh, cool. Fruit for a treat. How fun.”
But I’m thinking: “I don’t want to live in a world where fruit is considered a treat.” (FWP, I know.)
My thoughts continued: “It is a special day! Fruit is a great snack for a normal preschool day. But today is a party day. Heart shaped cookies! Brownies with pink sprinkles! Pink dyed rice krispie treats! SOMETHING THAT IS ACTUALLY A TREAT.”
So, I’m a little emotionally jarred about the fruit “treat” and thinking I should have gone crazy and bought juice boxes that weren’t 100% real fruit juice.
Then Baby Swiss starts showing me her Valentines.
There are 12 kids in her class (counting her).
She got 3 pencils. THREE.
That is 25% of her class bringing pencils.
I mean, my kid loves pencils, but she is 4. It’s not like she’s burning through scantron sheets.
To one mother’s credit, one of the pencils has red lead. (Graphite? Whatever.)
So, we dig deeper and she has a temporary tattoo, some stickers and a bouncy ball.
Where is the candy, people?
Believe me on this too…we have LOTS of candy at my house. Gobs.
Candy from Christmas still.
I don’t need my child’s Valentine’s Day candy for my own person caloric gain. I have candy. I have money that I can use to buy candy.
This is a principle thing.
She had only a few pieces of candy that she readily and excitedly shared with her sister.
That I readily and excitedly let them have for lunch.
Because fruit is not a treat.
February 13, 2013
I’m not sure I’ve got much to say tonight.
And now I’ll probably manage to follow that sentence with 10,000 words about nothing.
Except now I’m still sitting here staring off into my previously recorded television show.
Shout out to the dvr.
Yes, let’s go with that.
I heart my dvr.
I heart being able to check out any tv show that looks interesting.
I heart not having to choose which one show in a particular time slot I want to watch.
I heart not having to think about juggling and labeling vhs tapes. (Remember those?)
And I definitely heart not trying to be smart enough to program my vcr,
Mr. Mouse built our dvr out of old computers, lots of different colored cables, some electronics that I’m unfamiliar with and some aluminum foil.
Except not the aluminum foil.
At least I don’t think so.
But yes to about infinity dust bunnies.
Because I don’t dust much, and never behind the tv.
Behind the tv is a scary place.
I like what happens back there, but I don’t want to get too close to it.
February 12, 2013
So, this thing happened today. Or rather, more like a series of things.
I know it’s annoying, but I’m not going to go into details because it wouldn’t be profitable.
The series of things was semi church related and I adore my church and I’m certainly not going to be critical of my church. I surely know it’s not perfect, because hello – people are not perfect. But, I am not dogging my church here (or anywhere).
As a result of the series of things, a church staff member who observed part of said series brought her two young kids to my house during their nap time and brought my girls balloons and me chocolates.
And it felt weird to me.
I mean I’m not going anywhere. A little series of things is not going to make me leave the church. And everyone that knows me on staff knows this to be true.
But today, when that staff person brought my kids balloons and brought me chocolates and when she talked to me to let me know that she knew it was a rough morning, she treated me like someone she wanted to make sure wasn’t going anywhere. Like someone who she wanted to make sure felt like she was cared about.
And this is a new thing for me lately.
I mean I’ve been at my church almost 10 years. I’m involved. They know when they need someone to do something with amazing mediocrity that they can ask me and I will say yes.
I know I’m cared about, but I don’t need those extra steps and that’s kind of refreshing to be at that comfort level with my church and them with me. I mean really as far as I’m concerned, those energies can be spent elsewhere and I’ll be just fine.
Today was kind of refreshing too though.
And no one gets mad at chocolates, right?
February 11, 2013
- I’ve decided that I am no longer someone who blogs on the weekend. You’re welcome.
- This afternoon was really nice. Baby Swiss and I made three Valentine Day cards and I nearly lost my mind waiting for her to write the letters I told her to write and trying to convince her to put them in the appropriate order. Note to self: RELAX. But after that, things were good.
- We went to the post office along with everyone else in a 10 mile radius and the children were well behaved and slightly charming while we waited in line for the automated post office machine. Note to other users: if you don’t know what you’re doing, just wait in line and save the lady who was behind me from having a proverbial cow. Seriously, with the huffing, Lady.
- Next up we went to Target to pick up a few essentials for the preschool Vday party and the girls were doing so well, I decided to press my luck and take them to Old Navy to find out what size of shoes they wear there. Note to Old Navy: please make toddler shoes in a size 4. Note to Pipsqueak’s feet: GROW.
- And then, because things had been so happy and because Mr. Mouse was not going to be home for supper, I decided to be Awesome Mom and took the children to Chick-fil-A for supper, all whilst gushing about their wonderful behavior. Note to everyone: Chick-fil-A is not crowded on Monday nights.
- Pipsqueak only tried to take her pants off once in the play area. Not counting the time she pulled the legs up, “I’m pulling up my sleeves, Mom.”
- Speaking of clothing. I always wanted to be the mom who let my child wear whatever suited their fancy to places where it didn’t matter. Tiara at the grocery store? Sure, why not! Tutu to the doctor? Seems only fitting! So, Pipsqueak requested cowboy boots with her yoga pants and I shut that down in no time flat. Turns out I’m not that mom. And I’m okay with that.
- And now for the icing on the metaphorical cake. Pipsqueak was in real panties (not princess panties, aka pull-ups) the whole time we were out. Now granted, she stays dry in her princess panties all the time when we’re out, but I’m generally conservative when it comes to this. I was clearly feeling very confident today. Note to self: figure out a way for her to fill out the rear of her pants now that we are without diapers.
February 7, 2013
I just put the sweetest little froggie to bed.
Which is ironic because earlier today, I pushed a shopping cart with a raging, screaming two-year old through Target. And that girl looked very very similar to the sweet little froggie.
I think it is safe to say that Age Two has descended upon our house.
I knew it was coming.
I mean Age Two was difficult with my [mostly] compliant, rule-following child. So Age Two was obviously coming for my not [mostly] compliant, non-rule-following child.
Bring it on Age Two.
I’m not afraid.
I will win.
February 6, 2013
Pipsqueak choked on a Valentine gummy this morning.
It wasn’t a total choke, because she was making some noise, but it was a really weird noise.
She was super panicked too.
And I am normally calm when my babies have halfway choked or gagged on things (think of all of those learning to eat finger foods things).
I always just raised their arms (is that even the right thing to do?) and told them to cough it out.
In fact, as dramatic as I can be, I think that I tend to be fairly laid back when it comes to these parenting things.
Babies falling down the stairs? No big deal. Babies chewing on the toilet brush? Eh. Baby hit in the face with friend on the swing? Please keep the blood from your nose off of my clothes.
You get the idea. Basically we’re talking borderline neglect.
Today, though? Today, I was panicked.
Nothing I was doing was working and she just kept getting bluer and making that awful noise.
I was trying to decide if I should run across the street with her (our neighbor is a nurse) or call 911 (what if the neighbor wasn’t home?).
I don’t know how long it went on, probably only 60-90 seconds, but it felt a lot longer than that.
She was pretty freaked for awhile and stayed pretty close to me.
Which is okay, because I was pretty freaked too and maybe felt a little better having her stick close to me.
And now mommy will eat all of the Valentine gummies. They are clearly not for children.