Sidewalk Chalk and Sippy Cups

It's Not All Magic

2012-01-24T12:48:00.003-05:00

The holiday's were a magical time around my house. Of course, there was Santa Magic. Michael's school sent him home with "Magic Reindeer Food" to spread on the lawn on Christmas Eve. Who knew that flying reindeer eat Quaker Oats with glitter?! We also had the Tooth Fairy magic, when Michael lost his second tooth several days before Christmas. That last one may have involved mommy pulling that tooth a little hard so she wouldn't have to be the freaking Tooth Fairy and Santa on the same night, because sometimes there is just too much magic.

In fact, I think there was so much magic in December that some people have forgotten that magic doesn't really exist. So, as a reminder, here is a list of things that do not happen by magic alone. If you can think of others, please feel free to add them in the comments.

Things that do not happen by magic:

Laundry
Vacuuming
Oil Changes (My car really should yell this at me every time I start it up)
Breakfast
Lunch
Dinner
Homework
Tolerating a child who keeps holding things WAY TOO CLOSE to my face (Why does he do that?)
Weight control
Grocery Shopping
Sweeping and mopping (That Sorcerer's Apprentice clip in Fansatia? Huge lie!)
Removing teeth from under children's pillows and replacing them with money.
Changing sheets in the middle of the night
Blog posts

So what did I forget?

Randomness

2012-01-18T12:20:00.003-05:00

Shhh...I'm not supposed to be posting today to protest SOPA. But really, me not posting will not have any impact on SOPA because I'm not exactly a powerhouse on the internet. (Big internet search engine, I'm looking at you. Just think of the statement you could have made!) For those of us that are the tiny voices on the internet, I agree with Laura that contacting your Representatives will have more impact than not blogging for the day.

It's Wednesday and I have random thoughts going through my mind, so the obvious thing to do now is a randomness post! Here goes.

Monday night, during dinner, I asked Michael if he knew why he had the day off from school. He did. They covered the topic pretty well for kindergarten social studies. I was impressed and pleasantly surprised. I even got to read over some of the material they used when I checked through his homework folder last night.
While we were discussing MLK jr. I realized that in my entire time in public school, K-12, we NEVER covered MLK jr. or the civil rights movement. My kindergartner has had more formal education on the subject than I have. It's disturbing, but at least things are heading in the right direction.
I had to work on Monday, so Andy and Michael had a Daddy day. I came home to find them sitting together on the floor playing a video game. They were having so much fun that they hardly noticed me when I came in. It was completely adorable and also gave me a little bit of quiet time to decompress from the long day.
While they continued to play video games, I made dinner. It's getting increasingly difficult for me to read instructions on food packaging. To read the instructions on the Texas Toast box I had to extend my almost to it's full reach. I strongly suspect that if I can't grow my arms any longer I'm going to be need bifocals in the next year or so. It almost makes me want to get laser correction so that I would only have to deal with reading glasses. Almost.
I was feeling pretty brave that night too, so I grabbed a flashlight and asked Michael to let me check for his 6 year molars. I saw one coming through on the lower left side of his mouth. There may have been one on the lower right side, but I wasn't able to move my head back far enough to see properly. Since I don't have bifocals, I'm just going to assume that it's there.
And finally, Michael has gotten his appetite back after last week's Strep infection. We let him eat a little too much junk over the weekend, so it's been a fight to get him to eat close to healthy again. Last night he really, really wanted a snack even though he hadn't eaten dinner. I was about to say "no" when he started begging me to let him have humus and crackers. I sighed and "gave in" and then snickered to myself as he downed half a container of CHICK PEA PASTE. Yeah, who got fooled there?
Actually, since I don't have bifocals, it could have been me.

Teething Sucks! Round 2

2012-01-16T13:37:00.002-05:00

I didn't blog back when Michael was an infant. If I had, you would know just how much I hated when Michael was teething. It was horrible. He chewed on everything he could get his teeth on; including his crib, lead paint coated Thomas the Train toys, and me. Not only that, but it lead to many, many nights of lost sleep for everyone. It was so bad, I actually printed out the ADA's Primary Tooth Eruption Chart and kept it posted at my desk so I could keep track of how many teeth were left.

Today, I actually printed out the Permanent Tooth Eruption Chart and posted it at my desk. Why? Because after losing two teeth in December, Michael is teething again. And, it's about as much fun this time around as it was the last.

Michael constantly has his fingers, his shirt, or other random objects in his mouth. At times he's chewing with the two front teeth, but I've seen him with his fingers jammed all the way in the back so I'm wondering if those 6 year molars are working their way in too. If I'm brave, I may grab a flashlight and try to check things out. Knowing Michael however, I'll be sure to keep my fingers out of there. I wouldn't put it past him to think that biting me would be hilarious.

The shirt chewing seems to bother Andy the most. I agree, it's not too charming for Michael to walk around with a stretched out and wet shirt collar, but the fingers bother me the most. Not because I hate seeing him with his fingers in his mouth, but because of the germs his grubby little fingers are taking along for the ride.

He had a half day last Tuesday, so he spent the afternoon with my mom. When I went to pick him up, I watched him take a bite of a doughnut and I knew by the way he swallowed that something was wrong. My guess was either a cold or strep. He refused to eat dinner, woke up vomiting in the middle of the night, and was burning up the next morning. Let's just say that the strep test was simply a formality.

Given a few days of antibiotics and rest, Michael is fine. But, as long as he's chewing his fingers I suspect we'll be seeing repeats.

Teething round 2 tally: 3 nights of lost sleep, 2 days of school missed, one day of work missed, and a trip to the pediatrician's office.

Oh yeah, and just for fun. Primary tooth teething included 20 teeth. Permanent tooth teething? 32 teeth. Is it too soon to get his wisdom teeth out?

Where it All Started

2012-01-11T14:19:00.002-05:00

I was thinking about my hair stylist problems last night. As I said, I have to be realistic and own up to the fact that part of it is me. Not only do I not know how to express what I want done, I may also be a little over sensitive when they make comments I don't like. I probably didn't need to stop going to the woman that said, "Eww, what's this?" in reference to the hair spray on my hair.

I realized that maybe it's my mom's fault. See, when I was a kid, my mom had this thing about wanting me to look like Shirley Temple. Wait, if you factor in that she also tried to make me take tap lessons, it's probably fair to say that she wanted me to be Shirley Temple. Contrary child that I was, the last thing I wanted to be was anyone else. However, she never took that into consideration when she took me to get my hair cut. I know for a fact that she told at least one stylist to make me look like Shirley Temple. I remember crying for so long after that that my mom finally gave in and let me wash the curls out of my hair. I suspect that this order may have been given to a different stylist when I was in 8th grade. I don't think I let my mom take me to get my hair cut after that. I've also disliked getting my hair cut ever since then.

Several of you left good comments yesterday about how it's just too much work to let your hair grow out once you have colored it. I liked Claudia's because I not only want to let my hair go gray naturally, it was also a timely comment because my mom's hair is growing in now that she's been out of chemo for a while.

There have been a few surprises with my mom's hair. The first is how long it takes for hair to grow in. She has a full head of hair, and it's over an inch long, but it is SO SHORT still. I figured that since she always kept her hair in a pixie cut, it wouldn't take long to grow long enough for that. But I'm realizing just how long hair needs to be simply to be considered a short haircut.

The second surprise has been her hair color. She has been dying her hair for so long, she had no idea how gray it was. She thought that she just had some gray near her temples. Nope. She has a full head of salt and pepper hair. Maybe still a little more on the pepper side, but I don't think she's too happy about it. Personally, since I seem to have gotten my greying genes from her, I'm pretty happy that at 69 she's not completely silver yet.

The third surprise, I may be secretly enjoying. Sometimes when the hair first grows in after chemo, it comes in curly. And boy, is my mom's hair curly. Even if it was long enough for the pixie cut right now, it's way too wild for the style. When she first noticed that it was curly, she was excited. She's always wanted curly hair. But as anyone with enough curl to frizz on a humid day knows, the grass is always greener on the other side. Yesterday she was complaining that it's a different kind of curly on the sides than it is on the top. Oh, yes, I know all about that. It's such a royal pain in the hiney. So, she's discovering that curly hair isn't everything she dreamed it would be.

Personally, I hope it stays curly until hheir hair is down to her shoulders. I've told her since the day her hair started falling out that I'll treat her to a great haircut when it grows back in. If it stays curly, I'm going to pull the stylist to the side before hand, give her a $20 bill, and tell her to make my mom look like Shirley Temple.

At Least...

2012-01-10T12:57:00.002-05:00

I have a problem keeping hair stylists. I go through one every year or two. A few of them have left their salons, but most of them I have left. I finally came to the conclusion that maybe the problem wasn't with the stylists, but with me. One or two bad ones, possible. Every single one of them? Yeah, that's probably me.

My biggest problem is that I do not know how to ask for what I want when I get my hair cut. In fact, it's probably fair to say that half the time I don't even know what I want. I just want the stylist to read my mind and give me an amazing hair cut that I love, even though my hair is too fine for most of my dream haircuts. It's not reasonable to assume that a stylist can do for me what I cannot even express.

I've been working harder at trying to explain what I want and I've found a stylist that I really like. For once, I've found someone that doesn't cut my hair too short when I explain that I'm trying to let my hair grow out so I can put it in a pony tail when I run. She takes time before each cut to make sure she understands what I'm looking for and I've been very happy with the job she's done.

Finally.

Toward the end of my last haircut, she asked me if I've ever thought about coloring my hair. I explained that I had just finally grown out the last of the hair color and was looking to keep my hair natural. "Well maybe you could just make it look a little deeper?"

Ugh. So not what I needed. I have a lovely shade of mouse brown hair, and there is nothing wrong with that. Coloring my hair is expensive, time consuming, damaging, and time and again I end up spending a year or so growing out dry, brassy hair. Why would I go down that path AGAIN?

I swear up and down that I'm committed to my natural color. I want to set an example that you don't need to have a model's head of hair to be a kick-ass project manager, wife, or mom. Could my hair look better? Probably, but why? Why isn't my hair good enough the way it is?

That's when I start getting wishy washy. I see myself in the mirror and think, wow, maybe it would look better if I just added some depth to my color. Maybe she's right. What's wrong with wanting to look pretty? Maybe I should...

Then, I stopped myself. I've been through this before. I know where this ends up. I end up spending a lot of money only to discover once again that I never like my hair better when it's color. I always end up growing it out again. Also, if I'm going to set a good example, then I just need to embrace the mousy hair and own it.

I admit, it's hard to stick to my guns. It's hard to overcome the societal pressure to fight to look young and attractive for as long as I can. It's hard to accept the fact that I could look better.

But, I turned down the suggestion that I color my hair. My stylist's response?

"Well, at least it's not gray!"

Cause, you know, I look old enough to be getting gray by now, right?

Awesome.

The Death of a Gingerbread House

2012-01-05T11:47:00.003-05:00

I'd like to take a moment and thank Mo Willems' Pigeon for making Michael's begging so very much more animated. What used to be limited to, "please, please, pretty please!" has now expanded to include coercion and flat out bribes. While many parents would find this annoying, I'm quite enjoying it. I love the expanded use of language and the creativity that Michael is bringing to his attempts to get me to do things I don't want to do. I also enjoy the absurdity of Michael trying to bribe me to buy a Matchbox car with a thousand dollars that he doesn't have. Especially when he does have the 97 cents to buy it himself!

Michael used his new found skills when he discovered a gingerbread house kit at the grocery store before Christmas. The kit looked easy and was on sale, so I decided to give in. Andy and I then spent the next five days explaining over and over that we would build the damn thing on Christmas Eve AND NOT ONE MINUTE SOONER! Followed with me kicking myself for giving in to him. It's all your fault Mo Willems!

On Christmas Eve, we finally opened the kit and put the house together. As far as kits go, it was probably the easiest kit I've ever used. Buy the time we were done, the house looked pretty decent. Michael was very proud.

"I can't wait until we get to eat it." He announced.

Oh. Michael didn't realize that just because gingerbread houses are edible, it doesn't actually mean you want to eat them. So, I tried to explain to him that they are more for decoration than for eating. He was disappointed that we wouldn't be having his gingerbread house for Christams desert.

"Mommy, if you don't eat them, what do you do with them?"

Ah, good question. And, thanks to Laura and her family's Gingerbread House Smashing Tradition, I had a good answer. Without missing a beat, I explained that you smash it. It turns out that the idea of smashing a gingerbread house is even more appealing to a five year old than eating it.

On one of the lazy days toward the end of winter break, I decided we needed to stir things up a little. So I pulled these out of the basement.

There is nothing like a rubber mallet to put a smile on a child's face. Michael hopped right up and was on it in a flash.

He was a little tentative at first.

But that didn't last long.

In fact, he discovered just how much fun smashing a gingerbread house could be!

It was about this point that one of my neighbors pulled up to say hello. I'm sure she drove off with a few questions on her mind.

It's small projects like this that remind me of just how persistent Michael really is. I suspect that most kids would take a couple of good whacks at the house and then wander off to find something else to bash with the mallet. Not Michael. Oh no. He was not going to be satisfied until he had completely obliterated that little candy house. So he stood out in the cold and eventually ended up dancing on the crumbs of his gingerbread house until they were dust.

Well, at least it made clean up easy. We simply swept up the crumbs and tossed them out back for the birds to eat. But, it does make me wonder about where this personality trait will lead us in the future.

2012

2012-01-04T13:19:00.002-05:00

The ill fated 2011 is over. I know I'm not the only one who had a rough year, and I'm hoping that all of my friends and family who struggled through 2011 find 2012 to be a better year. This is the time when everyone does their resolutions and sets their goals for the coming year, and I'm no different. I typically look over my life and come up with my goals based on where I want to go over the next 12 months. Being a program management type person, this typically involves a list with measurable objectives that I can track throughout the year.

I'm not going to do that this year.

The only concrete goal I have this year is to lose the 10 pounds I gained over the past 12 months. I've lost those 10 pounds before, I can lose them again. In fact, I'll probably lose them again and again over the years. I'm fine with that. I'm still 35 pounds under my highest weight, so it's all good.

This year, I will not be tracking the miles I've moved or the minutes I've worked out. There will be no spreadsheets. Thanks to doing that in the past, I've established a pretty good routine of working out 3-4 times a week, and I'll stick with that routine. It's working, so no reason to change it.

A more vague fitness goal is to do something about rediscovering my waist. I know I have one somewhere, it's just a matter of doing the right kind of work so that I can find it again. One reason is comfort. I have long, skinny legs and to get a good fit on my waist I have to go baggy with my legs or to get a good fit on my legs I have to squish the daylights out of my tummy. The second reason is so I can avoid those awkward moments when an acquaintance is looking me over trying to figure out if I'm pregnant or not, and hoping they make the right choice not to say anything about it because I'm not.

I have other things in mind for 2012, but I don't know how to express them well or how to execute them.

Humor is a very important element in my life. Everyone in my family has a great sense of humor and I have been joking and laughing since I was a child. It's a key feature in how we communicate and how we tell stories. It's part of how we connect with one another. We have running jokes that have been going on for 30+ years at this point. Humor is interwoven throughout the threads of my life.

I lost my humor last year, and with it I lost laughter, joy, and the connections that it brings. If you've been reading my blog, you know that I'm a story teller and you know that I often focus on the hilarity I find in everyday life. Without humor, I struggled to write posts. Not because nothing was going on, but because the language I use to express myself was silenced. For those of you with blogs, you know that I used to leave frequent comments. I love comments on my blog, so I assume people love comments on their blogs. But without my humor, I often started to post but would delete my comments because I couldn't finish them. I was there all along, but I was silent.

I don't want to be silent this year. I want my voice back. I want my humor back.

In December, I decided to take a break. I took a break from exercising. Some nights, I did work on our bathroom project. Other nights I took a nap on the sofa while Andy and Michael were at karate. I also relaxed my diet a bit and ate some of those foods that I normally fight so hard to resist. At the end of my work year, I even used two precious vacation days so that I could have several quiet days to myself before the craziness of the winter break hit. It recharged my energy and allowed me to take care of all of those stupid little things that have been nagging at me for months. It allowed me to collect my thoughts for the first time in a year.

I'd like to say my sense of humor is back. I'd like to say that I'll be posting frequently like I used to. I want that to be true. But, I'm too afraid to commit. As I said yesterday, last year tore away the illusion that things will always work out. I know I've gone too far the other direction, in that I know fear that something bad is always just around the corner. I'm afraid to trust that the good feeling I have now will linger.

But, I will say this, I'm going to try and laugh this year. I know it doesn't sound like much, but really, it means everything.

2011

2012-01-03T09:55:00.003-05:00

2011 was a hard year. Really hard. It started while I was recovering from the worst illness I've ever had and from some personal issues that knocked me flat. It looked promising until the evening that my mom found a lump in her breast. It pretty much sucked hard after that. CANCER SUCKS.

I don't want to dwell on the cancer thing, but there is one thing I'd like to say about it. Not only does it devastate those who have it, but it's also a challenge for the people that love them. And one of the hardest things about it is that it never goes away. Even if all of my mom's treatments where 100% successful and she is truly cured, there always remains a kernel of "what if" that remains in the back of your mind. I suppose over time, that gets easier to deal with, but for now the knowledge that it could pop up again at any moment still weighs heavily on my mind. I no longer have the illusion that things are good and they will always be good. Granted, it's always an illusion, but for day to day living it a very practical one.

But enough about that. It's time to focus on some of the positives from last year. Because, despite a lot of awful, the year was filled with many wonderful things as well.

One of the big joys of the year was Michael turning five. Five, while sometimes a real challenge, has been amazing. The little boy who clinged to me at preschool drop off everyday has transformed into a big boy who loves kindergarten and grins like mad when he climbs off the bus. At the beginning of the year he still refused to leave his bed without someone in the room with him. Now, we wake up on weekend mornings and find him playing quietly in the living room already dressed for the day. And, while he's taken to killing zombies in ipad apps, he still wants me to talk for his stuffed animals while he shows them how to play. He has gotten sweeter, and funnier, and more compassionate. Five has been awesome.

There were other joys throughout the year. On a personal level, my career really took off. I did some of my best work and received a lot of recognition for it. I'm very proud of the work I did, of the people I work with and for, and I'm grateful that I get to go into a job I love everyday.

In other personal achievements, 2011 was a year of significant growth for me. I've struggled hard with balancing being a wife, a mom, an employee and simply being myself. I always want to put everyone first, but by failing to set personal boundaries, I was never happy with any kind of balance I tried for. This year really pushed the need to start setting boundaries and I feel I made good progress. Andy really helped me to do this by supporting my decisions and reminding me to take care of myself when he saw me faltering. I would never have made so much progress without his support. He did this, even while he was picking up the slack for me while I was helping my mom. It's great to know that someone you love has your back.

There were also some wonderful experiences. I will never forget the joy on both Michael and Andy's faces as Michael got to battle Darth Vader on our trip to Disney World. Or how freaking awesome it felt to run the MS Mud Run with Andy. I've never enjoyed being tired and beat up so much in my life. We also had trips to the beach, quiet mornings spent snuggled together on the sofa, and endless stuffed animal fights that left all of us giggling. They were the sweet to all of the bitter and they are all moments I will cherish.

2011, you were really hard. You striped my soul bare, but you gave it room for amazing growth. You dealt blow after blow, but in between were moments of solace and joy. You put up roadblocks, but the detours lead me on paths I might otherwise have passed by. 2011, you were a journey that ultimately took me further than I ever expected. I'm wiser and stronger for all of it.

But 2011, you can still suck it.

Surprised, to the Max!

2011-12-14T13:54:00.002-05:00

There is a well known fact in my tight little neighborhood community. Michael does not like Max.

Max is the youngest boy in the neighborhood and he also happens to be the younger brother of one of Michael's close friends. Any time the kids are outside playing, Max is there.

Max is a typical little boy. He was crawling at the beginning of the summer, and he loved to dump out the sidewalk chalk. In Michael's mind, this was completely unacceptable. Dumping chalk is against the rules. Max dumps chalk. Max is breaking the rules. Max should get in trouble.

The problem with this is that Max didn't get in trouble for dumping the chalk. 16 month olds dump chalk. It's just what they do. So, while we would discourage him from doing it, he never got in trouble for it. Even worse, we let him do it!

So, Michael took matters into his own hands. He constantly tried to hide the chalk from Max. When that didn't work, he'd take the chalk away from him. This went on all summer long with chalk and any other toy that Max showed any interest in. It only got worse once Max learned to walk, and started chasing after Michael trying to get the very thing Michael was trying to keep from him.

Max drove Michael crazy. It lead to many time outs for Michael because he constantly knocked Max over while trying to take things from him. We had a lot of discussions about setting a good example and not being mean to Max. We explained that what Max was doing is just part of growing up, and that Michael did the very same things. We even hauled his hiney into the house a few times because he was so rude to Max.

A perfect example of how Michael feels about Max occurred a few weeks ago at Max's 2nd birthday party. When we walked in, Max was so excited he ran over and gave Michael a hug. Michael just lifted his arms out of the way while Max squeezed him tight. The look of disgust on Michael's face cracked up the entire room of parents.

It's pretty clear. Michael hardly tolerates Max's existence.

So, imagine my surprise when Michael got home from school yesterday and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. He often colors at J's house before school, and it's normally a picture for Andy or I. I unfolded the sheet of paper and there was a picture and a sentence written at the top. it was little kid spelling, but it clearly read "This paper is for Max". When I asked Michael about it he explained that the picture was a drawing of a new Batman and that he had drawn it for Max.

"Really? You drew it for Max?"

He assured me that he had, indeed, drawn the picture for Max. I had just seen Max go in the house, so I asked Michael if he'd like to go over and give it to Max. I expected him to say no, but he did. He took the picture back from me and headed outside where he gave Max's mom the picture and asked her to hang it up for Max.

I just about melted on the spot.

The Tooth Fairy

2011-12-13T12:48:00.003-05:00

While I always had reservations about the existence of Santa when I was little, and was a little concerned about carrying that tradition forward with Michael, I've always loved the myth of the tooth fairy.

It's a strange little myth if you think about it. You lose a tooth, stick it under your pillow, and a fairy comes along to collect it and give you money in exchange. Who was the first person to realize that you should stick your tooth under the pillow to begin with? I picture some kid looking at his lost tooth, scratching his head while contemplating the tooth. Then, the light bulb goes off and he thinks, Ah yes, under the pillow makes sense.

Also, why would a fairy collect teeth? What does she do with them all? Is that what fairy dust is made from, powdered teeth? Ewww!

It's just the kind of ridiculousness that I go for.

Michael's first tooth started to wiggle on a Friday. I tugged on it for him, but it wasn't budging. The next day, it was a little looser, so I gave it a tug again. Nothing. Same thing the next day and the next. I was so excited that he was about to lose his first tooth that I ended up joking around with him that "I WANT YOUR TOOTH!" Everyday. He'd collapse into giggles, but that stubborn little bugger would not fall out. By the next Friday it was so loose that I'm pretty sure it was being held in by magic.

Partly, I was excited to see Michael with that adorable little kid toothless grin. But, I was also excited because a lost tooth would mean I get to be the tooth fairy. How awesome is that?

So I started considering the logistics involved with being the tooth fairy. How do you slide a tooth out from under a sleeping child's head and replace it with money? How much money should the tooth fairy leave? What's the going rate in the neighborhood? I even did a little tooth fairy math, 20 teeth * X dollars = Y dollars plugging in different values for X. (Yes, the tooth fairy is a geek. What do expect from someone who collects human teeth?)

Saturday morning I checked Michael's tooth and there was no way that it wasn't coming out. I grabbed a tissue and gave a little tug and it popped right out. I was surprised at just how tiny it was. Did that itty, bitty little thing really cause all that trouble when it was coming in? How many hours of sleep did we lose over such a small thing?

We wrapped the tooth up and placed it in a jewelry box. Michael was so excited, he didn't even wait until bedtime to tuck it under his pillow. He grabbed the box from me and ran upstairs right away.

Throughout the day, we talked about what the tooth fairy was going to bring him. Michael assured me that she didn't necessarily have to leave money. Maybe she would bring a toy or something fun. "Oh really? I didn't know that". It was so much fun.

At bedtime I double checked to make sure the box was there. I told Michael it was just to make sure nothing had happened to it, but it was really so I would know exactly where it was. I was a little concerned about waking him up, so I let him sleep for several hours before sneaking in and making the tooth/money switch. Andy had grabbed one of Michael's stuffed animals, so I had that in my hand in case Michael woke up. Then, I'd have an excuse for being there. But I didn't need it. The tooth fairy pulled it off without a hitch.

The next morning, Michael was so excited to find $2 under his pillow. Once again, within the same weekend, he was touched by a little magic. He also noticed that the tooth next to the lost tooth was loose, so I suspect the tooth fairy will be paying us another visit soon.

While Michael and I were sitting on the sofa chatting about it, he told me that he had actually caught a glimpse of the tooth fairy.

"Really, what did she look like?" I asked.

"She had wings like a butterfly!" He replied. I just smiled. I'm pretty sure that the tooth fairy was wearing PJs and may have smelled like she had just had a glass of red wine, but I like the idea of having butterfly wings, so I'll go with it.

Now, the tooth fairy is wondering if maybe the next time she shouldn't leave behind a little fairy dust of her own.

Magic

2011-12-12T10:21:00.003-05:00

For the most part, I'm not good with magic. I am, and have always been, a highly skeptical person. If something seems even a little unrealistic, I'm the one that's going to question it and try to figure out what's really going on.

This trait is very useful when I receive emails from Africa asking me to send money for some crazy scheme. It's not so useful when dealing with little kids who want to believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy. In fact, skeptical mommy equals magical buzz kill who RUINS CHRISTMAS!

I've been working on letting Michael have a little magic this year, and it seems to be working.

In past years, we have not had any luck with Santa visits. We managed to pull it off once when he was very little, but there were so many tears involved, that I'm not sure it was worth it. Last year, Michael considered it, but backed off before even getting into line.

Despite the failures, every year we ask Michael if he wants to sit on Santa's lap. When we asked this year, his response was, "The Santa in the mall is just a man in a costume". Yikes! My little skeptic is already debunking Santa?

While part of me was proud that he figured it out, I really didn't want to give up on the fantasy yet. So I asked him how he knew that. "Santa is way too busy to be at the mall." Phew. That was close.

We went to the mall on Friday evening and came upon a very good "Natural" Santa who also happened to have a very short line. So, we asked Michael if he wanted to give it a go. In typical Michael fashion, he needed to sit down and think about it for five minutes. Then, he asked us detailed questions about what he would do once he was sitting on Santa's lap. We explained the process and he considered it a little more and finally he decided to give it a try.

He was positively glowing when he was done. He was so excited that he got to sit on Santa's lap and talk to him. Seeing how happy he was, I'm glad that I hadn't confirm his suspicion that it was just a man in a costume. For that moment, I think Michael really beleived in the magic. It was sweet, and innocent, and I think I even noticed a few sprinkles of fairy dust floating around him. I know it was fairy dust because, when I saw his smile, I felt a little of the magic as well.

As we walked off with a final wave to Santa, we asked Michael about how it went. Did he have fun? What did he tell Santa he wanted? Did Santa ask if he's been naughty or nice?

Michael informed us, "No, he didn't ask."

"Don't worry. He knows. He always knows."

I Can't Decide

2011-11-02T09:02:00.004-04:00

Laura, over at Casa Case decided to come clean with the dirty little secret about 5.5 year old children. She asked for back-up, so here goes.

5.5 seems to be another one of those times, like 3.75 and 2.5. You have this adorable child who is learning all kinds of neat things, and making huge developmental leaps, and 50% of the time is wowing you with amazing compassion and insight.

Then, the other 50% of the time, the child is a raving lunatic. This is bad enough with just Michael, but after school everyday I get to see what it's like when you throw two 5.5 year olds together. Sometimes it's sweet. Sometimes it's funny. Sometimes they gang up on Andy and I and do everything they can to drive us crazy. If Michael wants to play outside, J wants to stay in and draw. If J wants to draw on the white board, Michael has to weasel his way in and make sure he draws on it too. At first I just thought they were different kids and wanted to do different things, but then I started to notice the little grins each boy would get when throwing a wrench into the works. And the looks they give each other when they get things going. They are doing this for fun!

They aren't even very subtle about it. In the morning, Michael goes over to J's house and his dad sees them to the bus stop. One day J's mom was home with them and J just casually informed her, "Mom, we get a little crazy. Just so you know." At least they warned her.

It's mostly cute and a little crazy for the hour that we have both boys, but I really feel for mom's of twins who deal with this ALL. THE. TIME.

The worst aspect of this age isn't the crazy boy thing after school. It's the reappearance of "I can't decide." This started when Michael was little in what I call the "I don't want what I want" tantrums. It's not Michael's normal contrariness. He truly cannot pick between two or more options and he freezes up and then melts down. They are a nightmare because there is no way to win. Nothing I say or do can solve the problem for him.

This happened last night when I picked Michael up from my mom's after work (the kids had a half day yesterday) . He was fine until we got to the elevator and decided that he wanted to take the elevator AND the steps. He hemmed and hawed and finally got onto the elevator, but by the time we got to the bottom floor, he had decided he wanted to take the steps. Knowing that he was really struggling (and also that he's too big to bodily remove from the elevator) I decided to head back up and let him take the stairs as well. We got off on the 6th floor and I started for the stairs.

"Mommy! I can't decide!" Michael anxiously told me.

Deep breath. "We already took the elevator. Now let's take the steps so we can do both."

"But I can't decide!"

We went back and forth with this insane conversation for a few more minutes and then I finally just asked him if he wanted a hug. He grabbed me and sobbed and sobbed. He was devastated at the thought of choosing one over the other.

I finally bet him that there were a hundred stairs and asked him to take a guess. "20!" So I grabbed his hand and said, "Let's go count!" He headed to the stairwell with me and we counted all 68 steps. Then we ran to the car. I got him hooked in quickly and took off before he realized what I had done.

"BUT MOMMY, I WANTED TO TAKE THE ELEVATOR!"

I just let him sob on the way home. By the time he got there, he seemed to be OK. I parked and went around the car to let him out.

"I can't decide if I want to get out."

And that, is what 5.5 is like.

Randomness

2011-10-10T12:28:00.004-04:00

After over a month of almost non-stop rain around here, things finally dried out for a few days. It's amazing how much more interesting my life seems to be when I'm not constantly fighting to keep my hair from frizzing-out and my basement from flooding. So, what's been going on lately?

On Friday I went for a run after work. It's my first run in almost a month. Andy also decided to take advantage of the nice day so he took Michael for a walk. I just happened to come up behind them at the end of my run. They were walking along, holding hands and chatting. You know that scene where the Grinch's heart grows and sproings out of the x-ray frame? That's what my heart felt like when I saw them.
I'm a very quiet runner, so they had no idea I was behind them until I was right next to them. Michael startled a little, then burst into a fit of giggles over discovering me there as if I had poofed into existence. See above heart sproinging comment.
Speaking of giggles, on Thursday Michael and J were playing after school when one of them said "Timber!" They thought it was so funny that they spent the next ten minutes falling onto the sofa yelling "Timber!" and giggling away in fits. I ended up giggling as well because they were just so funny.
However, this morning Michael slouched over onto his side on the sofa and when I said "timber" he just shot me a look and said, "Timber is not really that funny anymore". Maybe not, but that response left me laughing.
With the nice weather, we actually got to spend a lot of time outside with the neighbors this weekend. At one point, Michael was playing with my neighbor's toddler, whom Michael has really struggled to be nice to all summer. (But mom, he keeps moving my stuff!) The little boy's dad walked away for just a moment, and if it was any other child, I wouldn't have gotten up to supervise them for all of two minutes. But, Michael has really been a jerk at times, so I figured I'd go supervise VERY CLOSELY. When I got there, Michael was drawing a picture of the boy and then wrote the little boy's name next to the picture and showed the boy. Again with the heart sproinging thing.

So, over all, the past week has been full of giggles and heart sproinging. Just the way I like it.

The Art of Not Getting It

2011-10-04T12:59:00.002-04:00

Michael had soccer practice on Saturday morning. After the first practice - that resulted in two leg clinging, tear streaming, all out tantrums - this practice was more about learning to follow through with what you ask for than it was about playing soccer. Really, the last thing I wanted to do on a cold, rainy Saturday morning was sit on metal bleachers and watch a bunch of 5 and 6 year olds run around like maniacs. But, sometimes you have to suffer for the lesson.*

The surprising thing was that Michael was fine. He ran out when his name was called, picked up his new red shirt, and joined in the chaos with the rest of the kids. He even pointed out after the practice that there were no tears. Good for you, Buddy.

Watching the practice for an hour is surprisingly difficult. While the instructors in Micheal's karate class have kid crowd control down to a science, the college aged soccer coach leading Michael's group doesn't have a clue. There were about ten kids in the red shirt group, and maybe six of them were paying attention at any given time.

One thing I noticed was similar to what Desi noticed when volunteering in kindergarten. Boys are wiggly, much more wiggly than girls. There are two boys in Michael's group that cannot seem to stand still. They had their own little party going on, and it only tangentially had anything to do with soccer.

Michael is fidgety to, but not nearly as much as some of the other boys. While the kids were doing drills, Michael was actively paying attention and participating in the drills. He likes order, and follows directions pretty well. But, when they started to scrimmage, the coach lost about half of the kids. The girls all stood together waiting for something to happen. The two boys kept running off while their parents kept calling them back. The rest of the boys tried to score.

Then there was Michael. He stood in the middle of the field surrounded by the girls, but he didn't seem to notice anything going on around him. He had discovered something interesting on the ground, and kept digging at it with his cleats. I don't know what it was, but he was completely absorbed in smacking and dragging his foot against the ground. As Andy was calling to him to get him to play, Michael just kept going for the hole ignoring the soccer game that was going on around him.

As I watched him, I realized that he just wasn't getting it. He likes running around with other kids, but he was missing the entire point of soccer practice. Soccer is a game? It has rules? These ideas never crossed his mind.

Andy finally said something to me and I tried to help get Michael's attention so he might try to, you know, play soccer. The only problem was that I was so focused on trying to figure out what Michael was doing with his feet, that I completely missed which side he was supposed to be playing on.

Hmm...maybe the apple doesn't fall far from the tree?

Overall, it was a good practice. We went to the field house and got a hot dog when it was over, and then headed back to the car. On our way, I heard a little boy say "good-bye!" Michael didn't notice it at all, so Andy urged Michael to respond, which he did.

"Michael, did you recognize that boy from your group?" He asked as after the boy was gone.

Michael just sort of blew off the question while digging into his hot dog.

I'll admit it. I had no clue the boy was in his group. Even though I had watched them play for an entire hour. Oops.

*Yes, I realize it was a learning moment for me as much as it was for him.

Missing the Point

2011-09-28T13:32:00.002-04:00

This is a conversation between Michael and I that occurred the other day. We were listening to pop music and Michael heard the lyric, "We sleep all day so we can party all night."

Michael: So, I guess it's night where they are.

Me: Huh, what?

Michael: The people making the music. It must be night where they are since they sleep all day.

Me: Well, yeah, but...

Michael: Oh wait. Mommy, are they real?

Me: Real? Well, they are real, but the song is not live. It's a recording.

Michael: Oh, OK. So they recorded it at night.

Me: I think you are missing the point of the song. It's not a word problem.

Another Lunch Problem

2011-09-27T13:17:00.002-04:00

A few weeks ago I posted about Michael having trouble grasping the concept of the lunch "credit" card at his kindergarten. He still hasn't used it to buy anything, but he has expressed comments that lead me to believe that he does finally understand what the card is and how it's used. One of these days I'm going to push his limits and send him to school with the intent to buy lunch.

But, we have encountered another lunch problem with Michael. And this one is even more basic. He will not throw his trash out. This wasn't really a problem until the day I sent in yogurt, when it became a big, messy, smelly problem.

I've talked to him about why he won't throw his trash out, and the first reason he gave was that there are no trash cans in the cafeteria. When I told him that I knew for sure that there are trashcans in the cafeteria, he then explained that they are too far away. In Michael speak, this most likely means that he's anxious about getting up and throwing out his trash. I've tried to find out why he's too anxious to throw out his trash, but he's so busy fighting me about the trash can being TOO FAR AWAY MOM, that I can't get to the root of the problem.

So, for now, I'm not sending any yogurt. But someday, the kid has to figure out how to throw his trash out, right?

A Fresh Start

2011-09-26T11:39:00.002-04:00

I know I've talked a bit about my mom's chemo treatments on my blog, but I never mentioned much about her radiation treatments. They certainly were not as hard on her as chemo was, but it's wasn't easy either. She wasn't sick, but the process left her exhausted. I don't think she realized just how tiring it would be, and was a bit disappointed when she realized she was too tired to do simple tasks like grocery shopping, or watching Michael for three hours. She was really looking forward to getting he life back after chemo, and the radiation treatments brought that to a screeching halt.

Her radiation treatments were scheduled for five days a week, for seven weeks. My mom complained that it was like having a job again. However, when she completed the treatments a week and a half ago, the nurses and technicians gave her a certificate and complemented her for being such a good patient. She really liked the people there, and she appreciated the certificate, even though she thought it was a little weird.

As a reward for her hard work, my sister took my mom down to visit my aunt and uncle in North Carolina for a week of vacation. While they were there, my sister convinced my mom to go out and buy a wig. Even though my mom's hair has started growing back in, I think this is a great idea. It's going to take some time for my mom's hair to grow in fully, so I'm happy that she has the wig to wear until she can go back to natural. It should help her feel more confident when she goes out.

While she was gone, I was responsible for feeding her cats and her pet fish. When I got over there and spent a little time around her apartment, I discovered just how far behind she was on her house cleaning. Things were pretty neat, but my mom has a long haired Maine Coon cat that sheds hair like a maniac and he had coated the entire apartment with a layer of long, fine hairs. So, on Saturday, before my mom returned, I went over and did some hardcore cleaning. Like get down on my hands and knees and scrub with the Magic Eraser kind of cleaning. I knew she would be worrying about coming home to a huge cleaning job, so it made me really happy to think of her walking in and discovering that the job she was dreading was already done.

So, here is to a fresh start for my mom. Chemo and radiation are over. She has a new head of "hair". And now, she can focus her returning energy on things that are more fulfilling than scrubbing cat fur off of the shower stall walls.

Karate and Soccer and Bears, OH MY!

2011-09-20T12:37:00.003-04:00

It's a cold autumn day. I'm six years old. I'm standing in the middle of a big field. I have no idea what is going on around me. I've got these horrible things shoved into my socks, and all I want to do is rip them out and have some hot chocolate. All of the sudden, a black and white ball comes toward me and the next thing I know a group of kids is surrounding me and we are all kicking blindly at the ball.

That pretty much sums up my experience with soccer. I have no idea how I ended up at that practice, but I do know that I never went back. Things didn't improve after I met Andy. His general opinion of soccer is that it's like hockey, just without anything interesting ever happening.

So, imagine my surprise last week when I heard Andy and Michael discussing soccer practice. We had already decided to sign Michael up for karate and I wasn't expecting any additional sports to get added to my list. But, as they talked, it became clear that Michael wanted to give it a try. For $35 dollars I decided that it was worth a try.

Soccer started on Saturday, and karate started last night. On Thursday I picked up some sweats for Michael and Friday night we picked up shin guards and cleats for Michael. Saturday morning we got him all dressed up and drove over to the practice field. Michael recognized a girl from school and ran around the field with a bunch of the kids. So far, so good.

The coach came out and gave a quick overview of the program and the schedule and then she started roll call. When she called the names, the kids were supposed to run out and join the crowd in the middle of the field. And they did, until she called Michael. Instead of running out, he just grabbed my leg and cried when I encouraged him to go out and play. While the coach continued calling names and kids kept running out, Michael cried and cried. Andy pulled him aside, gave him a pep talk, and finally got Michael to join the other kids.

For the next half hour we were treated to the joy of watching little kids kick their shoes off, wipe-out on wet grass , and completely miss kicking balls that are larger than their heads. Michael was running and smiling the whole time.

After half an hour, the coach sent Michael's group back to the parents for a short break. Michael had some water and then refused to go back out. We gently prodded him to return to the game. He cried. We told him we were going to leave if he didn't go back out. He freaked out. We started throwing out all kinds of stuff, and it all failed. Andy finally had to walk away while I slowly moved him over to the sideline. His coach came over and called him in. It took a few more minutes and a discussion about tummy butterflies, but he finally went back in and played for another half hour. All smiles, of course.

I expect a replay next Saturday, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let him quit after only one practice.

As you can guess, I was a little nervous about how karate was going to go last night. Andy and I decided that it would be better if I did not go, since it's my leg he seems so fond of. So, while Andy was taking Michael into another completely new situation that could easily lead to a major melt down, I went and got my hair done. I clearly got the better deal.

I was relaxing when they got home. Michael had a huge smile on his face and he rushed in and showed me how to punch. He was so excited as he talked a mile a minute about how cool it was and one of the kids from his class was there and...and...and!

Wow, what a difference. After Michael went to bed, I asked Andy how it really went, and he confirmed that it went really well. He even had some pictures and video for me. Michael loved it. I'm not sure if it was because he liked the organization and discipline, the actual karate, or being allowed to run around his gym in bare feet, but whatever it was, it seemed to work. He even asked me this morning if he could go again tonight!

For now, we'll keep up both activities. Even if Michael doesn't care about soccer, there is still a lot to be gained by going back out there and giving it another try. As for karate, I wouldn't be surprised if he wants to keep it up after the six week class wraps up. Only time will tell.

Randomness

2011-09-09T09:02:00.002-04:00

It's the end of the week, so lets just go with the flow! I'll jump right in with the random:

I was forced to tell Michael that "Hiney wiping is done in the bathroom, not the living room" this morning. And to think, I would have thought that was obvious.
Today is Patriot's day at Michael's school. They asked that we dress our kids in Red, White and Blue. The non-conformist in me REALLY wanted to send Michael to school in his green "I'm Just Here To Annoy You" shirt. But, I resisted the temptation and sent him in wearing the appropriate spirit building colors.
In the future, if Michael wants to go against the tide I will totally support him.
Michael had a great day at school yesterday. When I asked him what was so good he told me that he had music class. Also, that he went to the bathroom. Um...Yay you?
For a kid who never really got into music, he's become a huge fan of pop music lately. I've been trying to think of ways to encourage this, and the music class comment makes me think I should really get on that. How should I do this? Might it involve buying him a drum? 'Cause honestly, that doesn't sound like a good idea to me.
And finally, the most shocking thing I've heard in ages happened this morning when I asked Michael what he wanted me to pack him for lunch. "Just pack whatever you feel like making." Really? Who are you and what did you do with my child?

Money Trouble

2011-09-08T13:23:00.002-04:00

Michael does not get the concept of money. At all. And, not for lack of trying either.

The first thing I tried was a piggy bank. We ended up buying one that announced the type of coin being placed into it. Only it was frequently wrong and kept telling Michael that a penny was a dime. It also oinked and squealed in a shrill manner and was quickly disappeared from the play area.

Next, I tried giving Michael an allowance. Unlike most kids who are thrilled to get money, he was flat out offended by the entire process and refused to even look at the bag where I kept putting money. He even refused to buy anything with the money, even if it meant going home with nothing.

I felt a little optimistic when his daycare teacher started her lesson about coins and money. Surely, that would help right? Nope, the kid that can tell the difference between an Allosaurus and a T-Rex refused to learn even the names of the U.S. coins, let alone how much each one is worth. He did, however, pick up this strange idea; U.S coins do not stick to magnets but coins from India do.

So, after over a year of trying to teach Michael about money, the only thing he has learned is the magnetic properties of the metals used to make different coins. That's just...um...weird.

As I mentioned earlier this week, on the first day of school, his class had a lesson on how to use the food card to purchase lunch. Michael went to the cafeteria and "purchased" a "hamburger". The idea was to demonstrate how to buy actual food with what is essentially a credit card. WHICH HE SEES ME USING ALL THE FREAKING TIME PEOPLE!

Knowing that Michael had this lesson, I loaded money onto his account and told him he could use his card to buy milk for himself. Michael just looked at me like I'm insane.

I asked him to think back to the lesson where he bought the hamburger and tried to explain that his teacher was trying to teach him how to use the card and that I had put real money on it so he could buy real food and milk with it. "Mommy, you do know that was just pretend, right?"

Don't patronize me child! At least I know how to buy milk.

I finally gave up and decided not to pack him any milk in his lunch with a reminder that he could use his lunch card to buy it if he wanted it. Then, I let it drop because it's like bashing my head against a wall.

Later in the evening, Michael started telling me about the "boys" in his school. "Mommy, there are only two boy teachers, one of them is the gym teacher. But, all of the cafeteria workers are boys and there are 16 of them. So that makes...hmm...18 boys in my school."

Really? He's observant enough to notice that most of the teachers are women and that all of the cafeteria workers are men; plus he can add 16 + 2; but he can't even grasp the concept of money having value? You have got to be kidding me.

Update: I checked Michael's account. He did not buy anything at lunch today. Sigh.

The First Day

2011-09-07T09:29:00.004-04:00

Good news! We all survived Michael's first day of school. I'm going to count that as a success. Michael even shared a little bit about his day, so that's good too, right?

The first thing Michael said when he got off the bus was that he didn't cry. Awesome! Until I discovered later on that I think he only meant that he didn't cry on the bus ride home. Before bed he mentioned that the kids on the bus were screaming and that it was really loud and that he cried. But then, he assured me that they were just happy tears.

He did say that he liked coloring. I found two sheets with his first and second lessons on them. The first was a picture of a toilet and a roll of toilet paper and had a sentence about learning how to you the bathroom properly and flushing the toilet. Michael had colored in the toilet paper in a lovely striped pattern. That seemed to be the highlight of his day.

Michael also told a story about going to the cafeteria and buying a hamburger. Considering he had no money and doesn't like hamburgers, I found it pretty odd until I looked at his second lesson. They took the kids to the cafeteria and taught them how to use the lunch cards. I'm guessing the hamburger was a fake hamburger, but who knows what really happened. I've loaded money on his card and will explain to him that he can use it to buy milk.

Since Michael isn't forth coming about what he does all day, I asked him some probing questions. When I asked if he had gym, he said they did have gym and that they played follow the leader. Awesome! That sounds like something real. Then, he went into a story about playing Pac-Man and chasing the ghosts around when they are blue and running from them when they were colorful. He's played Pac-Man before, so he could have made that up, but it was pretty detailed, so maybe that's a game they really play. Again, who knows?

He did finally volunteer some information about school. He told me they played with red clay and he had to squeeze it with his hands to make it soft. He even had red clay on his shirt sleeve, so at least for this one, I think it really did happen!

Overall, I think it was mostly a success. He made it home happy and just a little wound up. Even better, aside from a few nerves this morning, he did great when I dropped him off at J's house and J's dad let me know that things were going OK. The bus came over an hour ago and I haven't gotten any calls, so I'm assuming he made it OK.

I hope today goes even better. Maybe he'll get to color pictures band-aides if they tour the nurse's office!

Kindergarten - Michael's Way

2011-09-06T12:13:00.002-04:00

I feel a little late to the kindergarten game since in the North East, kids don't start school until after Labor Day. It didn't help that Michael's school sent out most of his information a little on the late side as well. But, last week we finally got to head to Michael's school for a two hour orientation.

I never know how much I should prepare Michael before a big event. I knew orientation would go fine until the end when Andy and I ha to leave so Michael could learn how to do the car line. I debated on whether to tell him or not beforehand, and decided that it would be best to let him know. So, I prepped him the day before and then the morning of, hoping to make the transition easier.

Orientation started well. We went to the auditorium with J from a few doors down and his parents. J sat still and paid attention through the entire thing. Michael wiggled and fidgeted and I finally had to distract him with a pen and some paper. Considering he is normally well behaved in situations like that, I knew his anxiety levels were rising.

After a quick assembly, we all lined up and went on a tour of the school and then into Michael's classroom. There are already 25 students in his class. Each student had at least one parent with them, and many had both parents and several siblings. There were at least 75 people in the classroom. It was loud and it was crazy.

We helped Michael find his seat. He was at a table toward the edge of the room where everyone was trying to stand to avoid getting in the way. Michael wanted me to come and stand with him, but I could barley move through all the people. I finally forced my way through and tried to help Michael figure out what he was supposed to do with the paper at his spot. I couldn't see the instructions on the smart board so Andy shifted around and finally found the computer and read the instructions off of there. I then tried to explain what to do while two dad's had a conversation over my head.

Let's just say that it was not an ideal situation.

We met Michael's teacher briefly. She seems very nice. She seems like she's a quick study and asked me if I was OK right off. (Not Michael, folks. ME) I was and I wasn't. I'm OK with Michael starting Kindergarten. I had no problem with the idea of leaving him for the pick up demonstration. It wasn't anything school related that was upsetting me. There were just too many people in the room. That's way more chaos than I can handle.

And guess what, the apple doesn't fall from the tree. Michael was not to keen on being left alone in that crazy room either. We waited until a lot of the people had left before trying to leave, but it was too late. Michael was not going to willing separate from me.

Now, I've been through this plenty of times at daycare. Miss Carmella would always come over and take Michael away and distract him while I left. No problem. But, kindergarten doesn't have a Miss Carmella. In fact, with the chaos in the room, no one even knew what was going on until the crying and the "NO!" started happening. An aide came over to help eventually, but Michael was too worked up for her at that point.

Finally, Michael's teacher came over and tried to help. We discussed a few options and I finally told her the best thing to do is for her to pry him off me and for me to run. And, to make the moment even better...I started to cry. You know, because seeing mommy cry makes it sooo much easier to be left with strange people in a strange place.

So, I ran crying from the room with Andy asking me if I was OK. I seem to remember snapping "yes" at him several times, but I don't think he was fooled.

The car line was huge, so it took about 25 minutes until I pulled up for Michael. He came running out and ran right up to J's car waving at J's parents and smiling. (They were in front of me.) I got out to let him in and the aide that was with him was completely confused that he was running to one car and his parent was clearly in a different car. "Do you know which car is yours?" He turned to her and calmly explained that he was just saying hi to his friend's parents.

He was fine when we got home. I asked him what he did during the time he was in his class, and he gave his typical "nothing" response. And that was it. He had nothing positive or negative to say about it.

So, we went to the beach for the weekend and distracted ourselves from the actual first day off school today. We didn't talk about school much, but when Michael over heard me saying "old school" he thought I was talking about his school and said, "I know mom!" OK, I get it.

I admit, I was really nervous about how things would go at the bus stop this morning. Would he freak out? Would he be fine because J was with him? Would he cry? Would I cry? Would there be a scene for the bus driver?

It went just fine. The boys talked on the way up to the stop, and then met some of the older boys who they will ride the bus with. And they ran around and laughed. When the bus came, they both ran up and climbed right on. They sat in the front seat and grinned and waved good-bye. My little baby looked so grown up and I was so proud of him.

And no tears were shed.

Now, I'm dying for him to get home so I can find out how his day went. Wish me luck that I may get something more than a big fat "nothing" out of him.

The Great East Coast Quake of 2011

2011-08-24T10:27:00.002-04:00

As everyone with TV or internet access knows by now, the East Coast had an earthquake yesterday. It was interesting, exciting, and a little bit weird.

I was at work when the quake hit. The first thing I noticed was the sound, not the shaking. One of my coworkers and I had the same response. We both stood up and looked out the window at the tree because we thought it was a wind gust. As we both saw that the tree was calm, we realized what was going on. An earthquake!

And this is were my geekiness comes out. The first thing I said was how glad I was to have bookmarked the USGS website. I was very surprised to see that the quake was centered in Virginia since we quickly got word that people in New Jersey and further north in Pennsylvania had felt it. That's some serious shaking!

Many buildings in the area were evacuated, but most for only a short time. We remained in our office, but I learned this morning that the building next to mine actually sustained some minor damage. This really shocked me because the shaking didn't feel that serious or last very long. I suspect some of that has to do with the construction of the building I work in.

The quake was a huge topic of discussion through the afternoon and evening. It was interesting to hear what different people thought was happening. Andy thought someone was shaking his chair. One neighbor thought a train was going by. Another was trying to nap with her 4 year old, and she ended up yelling at her for shaking the bed! My favorite was from a chemist, who was trying to measure out a chemical on a scale and was annoyed at his company for buying such crappy equipment that wouldn't equalize.

Because of the timing, all of our kids were napping and ended up sleeping through the whole thing. However, by the end of the day Michael was talking as if he had actually felt it himself. I suspect that many of the current 5 year olds who slept through it will actually have "memories" of the shaking because they heard so much about it.

Overall, in Philly, it was mostly just an exciting afternoon. There was increased traffic because many tall buildings in the city needed inspection so everyone left and also because trains were restricted to 25 MPH limits until tracks and bridges could be inspected. But mostly, around here, it made for a fun and social day.

I realize that that is not what happened for many in Washington D.C. and NYC. Many people in those cities reported that their first though wasn't a train or the wind. Their first thought was that it was a bomb. It can't help but remind me of all of the little things that were lost on 9/11. For people in those cities, my "Wow! This is cool!" moment was a, "Oh Shit!" moment. It makes me sad and angry.

Overall, even though I think the media way overplayed the story, I am glad that the impact of the quake was minimal and that public safety took priority over keeping the trains running on time.

I will say that I am a little concerned about the students in Michael's class. As a result of the earthquake, we got out his Smithsonian book on Earthquakes. It's a bit scary and includes several references to "lives lost". So, of course, Michael just had to take it to school with him. I left a note for his teacher warning her that it's not appropriate, but when I left, Michael had the book open and was showing another boy the map that illustrates what levels of damage you can expect from earthquakes around the country.

Oops. My bad.

Contrary to...Well, Everything

2011-08-22T12:20:00.003-04:00

I'm contrary. This is no secret. Anyone who knows me or reads my blog knows this about it. It's not something I do on purpose. It's just the way I am. My initial response to just about everything is "no". My dad is the same way, and of course, so is Michael.

There are actually some positives to being naturally contrary. It has made me very resistant to peer pressure and to hard selling techniques. It also allows me to see problems in different, and often advantageous ways. I hope it serves Michael as well as it has served me.

But, there are some major downsides to being contrary. The most obvious is that it's really annoying. People do not like being told "no" over and over again. It get's old fast. Especially, if it's just a reactionary "no" and not a well thought out "no".

However, in addition to being annoying, it can also hurt the person being contrary. I've learned this lesson the hard way. More than once. One time in particular, I had an employee who had great ideas and I was shutting down his creativity with too many no's. Fortunately, I had someone who was able to point that out to me and I was able to correct my behavior. Learning to think about my no's before letting them fall out of my mouth has been very beneficial to both my relationships as well as my career.

Around 4.5, Michael started to tone down his reflexive no's. I really enjoyed being able to discuss things with him in a reasonable manner. Not only was it less stressful for Andy and I, it also made things easier for Michael.

That times seems to have passed, and Michael has turned the contrary up to 11 recently. I'm pretty sure that if you told him he was the sweetest little boy in the world that he would disagree with you. It's gotten that bad.

I've started using the old tactics that I used to use with him again. I'll present my case, whether it be going to the book store or if he wants dinner, and acknowledge his initial "no". Then, five minutes later I'll tell him that if he really does want ______ than he needs to decided now or the option is no longer possible. In the past, this was sufficient to give him time to think about what he really wanted. Now, it's not always effective.

This has resulted in tears at bedtime on several occasions because as soon as I tuck him in he decides that he must have whatever it was he refused earlier. He's then faced with the decision of having me tuck him in or having me walk out while he's still sitting up in bed crying. We would both rather avoid this situation, but allowing him to continue to not think about his decisions doesn't help him in the long run.

So, we have been having periodic discussions about taking time to think about his decisions before answering. It's OK to say I don't know or to ask for a moment to think about things. I'm trying to get him to think things through before he responds. It's not an easy process, and I don't expect it to improve over night, but hopefully with time he'll be able to take a moment to think about his initial reaction and determine if that's the best reaction.

Kindergarten Decisions

2011-08-18T12:02:00.003-04:00

With Kindergarten starting in a few weeks, there are a lot of changes going on. As I’ve stated many times, I’m not too big on change. The only thing worse than change for me, is when you add unmade decisions to the mix. If there are decisions to be made, than give me the information and let me decide!

Michael’s kindergarten is not exactly the best at getting out timely information. For example, school starts in less than three weeks, but we still don’t have any information on the school bus schedule. Nothing. It’s driving me crazy. It also makes planning harder since we don’t know what we need to plan around.

For the past five years, I’ve been dropping Michael off in the morning and then Andy and I take turns picking him up in the afternoon. We both start work early, so I actually had to adjust my schedule to a later time when Michael entered a daycare center that opens at 6:30 am. You would not believe the additional traffic I have to deal with because of that half hour.

So, I wasn’t too happy when I learned that Michael’s kindergarten starts at 9:10 in the morning and runs until 3:25. 9:10? That’s practically lunch time to me. However, even J’s parents, who work on a more typical schedule were freaking out. 9:10 doesn’t work for them either. At least Andy would typically be home to meet the bus, but J’s family doesn’t stand a chance.

It was time to look at alternatives:

1. Before and after school care.

Pros: Reliable and on-site

Cons: They don't open until 7:00 am and they are in the other direction for me. It would make my ride to work about an hour long.

2. Grandma care:

Pros: She would come to my house.

Cons: Due to her health situations, she's not very reliable.

3. Community care: This involves Michael going to J's house in the morning before the bus comes and J coming to our house in the afternoon until his parents get home from work.

Pros: Easy. Free. My schedule doesn't change. Michael gets to spend time in a house where he won't be the only child.

Cons: If this kind of thing goes sour, which it often does, it kills the relationship between neighbors.

Of course, not having all of the information from the school about busing and drop of times and such, made this decision linger on for several weeks as we all looked into our work schedules, finances, and had uncomfortable conversations with Grandma. In the end, we have decided on option three. In the morning, Michael will head over to J's until the bus comes. J's dad will see the boys onto the bus. In the afternoons, Andy will meet the boys and we'll watch J until his mom gets home. I'm happy with the plans and will make sure that we keep the lines of communication open so that it doesn't go sour.

In addition, I've spoken with my mom about why she wanted to do this for us. Her main concern is that she really wants to maintain the close relationship she's developed with Michael over the past five years of caring for him. I also want her to maintain that relationship, and reassured her that it is a priority for me and that she will get time with Michael. And, it will be on weekends or afternoons/evenings, which will be much more quality time than what she would have gotten at 6:30 am. And, Andy and I may even get some date nights out of it. Win/win.

I'll let you know in a month or so how this is working out.

Randomness

2011-08-17T10:49:00.003-04:00

Funny, things have been so random lately that I haven't been able to collect my thoughts enough to post. Now that things are calming down a bit, I can take time and enjoy the random. So here goes...

When we bought our house, we kept our oversize and pretty low quality furniture planning to replace it all when we had more money. Then, we decided to replace it when Michael stopped spitting up all over. And then, and then. We finally decided to replace our lamps because they were blowing our light bulbs (including CFLs!) It took me several weeks and harassing a number of Pottery Barn stores, but I finally have the lamps and shades I love.
The new lamps and shades highlight just how craptastic the rest of the furniture looks. Oops.
Out of nowhere on the ride to school this morning, Michael asked me if I had forgotten his breakfast. I haven't forgotten his breakfast in over a year, and he's never asked me this question before. I thought for a moment, checked his lunch bag, and then turned around to pick up his breakfast. How did he know? Talk about coincidence.
I gave Michael's final notice to daycare today. I'm very sad to leave. They have really been wonderful with Michael and I'm going to miss them a lot.
I'm going to write the last check for daycare this afternoon. I will not miss this part of daycare at all.
I'm starting to think about what the end of daycare payments could mean to my craptastic living room furniture, but I think we have other projects that may be higher on our list, like the craptastic kitchen cabinets.

What a year.

2011-08-16T13:39:00.002-04:00

I know that by convention, most people mark the new year in January. However, I guess from years of schooling, I always tend to think of the new year starting in September. August, and the long, hot, dog days of summer always feel like the wrap up to me. Fall brings cooler weather, shorter days, and the frantic buildup to the holidays.

So it’s not surprising to me that I’ve been reflecting back over the past year while also planning for the exciting new start as Michael enters kindergarten.

I remember last year at this time. Michael was preparing to switch from going to daycare two days a week to three days. The goal was to give my mom a little more time to herself, and to help get Michael used to a more academic environment before kindergarten. Michael was recovering from another ear infection, and I was waiting desperately for the magical end of that first year of daycare endless sickness. I had dreams that maybe I’d actually be able to save up some sick and vacation time for once. Maybe I’d actually find a little time for myself as things settled down.

Oh, if only I knew what was to come? Labor Day weekend my mom started feeling sick. We thought she just had Michael’s cold. Within a week, however, we discovered she had shingles. Not good.

In October, I ended up getting sicker than I’ve ever been before. Ear infection, pink eye, strep throat, a cough so bad that my ribs hurt for six weeks. Also, during that same time, I had some unbloggable personal issues going on that were worse than the killer germs I had caught. It really took all the way through December to finally start to recover. At that point, my sick time and vacation time were almost wiped out. I was tired.

In January, things started to look up. I was learning that sometimes when things get broken, the fix is actually better than the original. I was gaining energy and working on a new workout plan. Even Michael was doing well and fighting off those lousy daycare germs. I took a moment to exhale.

Then BOOM, February ushered in a whole new level of hell with my mom’s breast cancer diagnosis. That news flipped a switch in my life and we have been pretty much running in survival mode since then. Michael had to switch to full time daycare. I had to pick up all the basics that my mom could no longer do for herself. What little time I had disappeared in a wink.

And the worrying, the endless worrying. I could tell yourself things are going to be OK a thousand times a day, and still find myself crying in the shower in the evening. I’d go for runs to relax and clear my head only to find myself walking and wiping tears out of my eyes. Many days I woke up completely exhausted wanting only to take a day off to sleep, but not being able to because I needed the few sick days I had earned.

It was hard.

A few weeks ago, my mom started to feel well enough to do her dishes, take out her trash, and pick up her mail. Next, she felt good enough to go out and do her grocery shopping. Finally, she had enough energy back and she begged me to let her keep Michael over night.

Andy and I went on a date! Dinner and a movie. I’d forgotten what it was like, and it was such a treat.

Then, the next weekend my mom asked for Michael again. Sure. After she picked him up, Andy and I stared at each other not knowing what to do with ourselves. We didn’t even know how to spend time alone together. Don’t worry, we figured it out soon enough.

So, that’s where we are. It was a rough year, but I think we made it through OK.

That leaves me wondering about this new year coming up. How will kindergarten go? How will it effect our lives? Will it be easier? Harder? Crazier?

What about my mom? She wraps up radiation in a few weeks. All that’s left is for her hair to grow back in and for the monitoring to start. Did everything work? Is she cured? Can we relax a little? Hmm….there is always this.

I’m hoping that things can settle down into some new kind of normal, for a little while at least. Maybe I can catch up on all those doctor’s appointments, blog posts, house cleaning, books and other things that I’ve had to put aside for so long. Maybe I can focus a little on me again. It's hard to let myself even think it, because I really don't want those hopes dashed again.

Random Act

2011-08-10T12:13:00.002-04:00

I know it's been a while since I've posted about my mom. But, that's a natural outcome of being a full time working mom who is also caring for her mother who is undergoing chemo. All those extra trips to the grocery store, and cleaning kitty litter, and such take priority over blogging. And, to be honest, even when I could find the time to blog, I couldn't collect my thoughts enough to post.

The good news is that my mom has completed chemo. She's had a CT scan of her chest and an echocardiogram. Her lungs an heart are healthy and there is no sign of damage from the medications or any signs of unwanted growths. It's taken over a month, but she's finally getting her energy and motivation back. Which, is a good thing because she needs to go out every day for her radiation treatments.

Getting her energy back means getting some of her life back. One huge advantage is that she is able to spend time with Michael again. The past four months have been difficult for both of them because they have always been so close. Michael spent the night with her last Friday, and I cannot tell who was happier. They were both grinning ear to ear when I picked him up, even though he had some sleep issues and they didn't get to sleep until 2:00 am!

This return to freedom also allows my mom to do some of the simple little things that she enjoys. Yesterday, she stopped at Friendly's for lunch. As she finished her meal, her waitress came over and asked if she had noticed a man and his son at the counter. My mom had, but they were gone by this point. The waitress explained that the man had paid for my mom's meal for her. I guess he saw her sitting by herself, with her hat pulled all the way down over her head, and decided that she could use a little kindness in her life.

She was absolutely tickled pink by the man's random act of kindness. She even called me at work to tell me about it. Not only did it make her happy, but it made me happy too. This has been a hard journey for my mom, and for me as well. That someone that she doesn't even know took a moment to notice her and do something kind, makes me feel just a little bit better about this crazy world we live in.

So, random guy out there, thank you!

Sh*t my kid says

2011-08-05T13:56:00.002-04:00

One of the fun parts of being a parent is listening to some of the things that kids say. Even simple mispronunciations or incorrect names can linger for years, like my mom still calling blue jeans "pockets" 40 years after my brother made that mistake.

Michel has never had a lot of mispronunciations. My favorite was when he called "dinosaurs" by the very appropriate "Dinoroars." I was sad that it only stuck around for a few weeks.

As he gets older and his thought process gets more complex, he's coming up with some very interesting questions. These are certainly going to stand out more in my memory than his few mispronunciations.

Some recent discussions:

Michael: Mommy, Did I pee when I was in your tummy?

Me: Yes

__________

Michael: Mommy, how did I get into your tummy?

Me: It's time to cross the road. Please hold my hand. Did you have fun at the beach?

__________

Michael: Mommy, today we learned that stars can explode. Is the sun going to explode?

Me: Wait, what? Ah, let's see. Yes, the sun will eventually explode. But, it won't be for billions of years. That's a very, very long time from now.

__________

Michael: Mommy, when the sun explodes in five billion years will Santa Claus die?

Me: Um...Um...Ah...

Me in my head: WTF? How do I answer that one? Santa isn't real, but we are pretending he's real, so how do I answer this so that I don't give away that Santa isn't real, but without upsetting Michael?

Me: Yes, Santa will die.

Me in my head: PARENTING FAIL!

__________

Michael: How does Santa know what everyone is doing?

Me: How do you think Santa knows?

Michael: I think he has a thousand computers that he uses.

Me: Yeah, Santa is like a super hacker!

Me in my head: I'd better work on the "Don't ruin Santa for other kids" lecture.

__________

Me: (After Michael pushed over my neighbor's toddler) Time out! Now!

Me three minutes later: Now you need to go and apologize to M.

Michael: Mom, he's just a baby. He won't even understand me.

Me in my head: Well, he's got a point there...

Me out loud: Then go apologize to his mother!

Me in my head: I am so screwed.

Boston Girls' Weekend

2011-06-27T14:10:00.002-04:00

I got together with Laura, Maria, and Steph this weekend in Boston. This is my third May '06 birth board girls' weekend, and they just keep getting better.

I've been doing a Planes, Trains and Automobiles thing for these weekends. I took the train to NYC and a plane to Vegas, so it seemed like an auto was the right way to go for Boston. I don't know why I thought that because I've actually driven in Boston before and I knew what I was getting into. Boston's roads make my stretch marks look organized.

However, I'm really glad that I drove, even if I did tick off a few of the natives with my Philly drive attitude. (I swear, I didn't flip anyone off!)

It's been a long year and I've been very busy, busy, BUSY! Spending the 7 hours on the way up, and 6 hours on the way home by myself was very relaxing. I was able to put my playlist on shuffle and chill for both rides. It was very enjoyable, and did me a world of good.

What also did me a world of good was hanging out with some wonderful ladies. We were there to run Warrior Dash, but on Saturday morning it was way too cold and pouring rain for Warrior Dash to be fun. We were all dressed for hot summer weather, and the thought of being cold and wet for several hours just did not call to us. So, for the day we decided we were shoppers, not warriors.

I guess shopping isn't really what we were doing. Wandering and chatting is a better description. I think one of my favorite times the whole weekend was when we all got some coffee slushies from Dunkin' Donuts and found some benches and just sat and chatted. It was very low key, and was an awesome chance to get to know everyone better.

Of course, the strange thing about these weekends is that there is always someone there that I've never "met" before. The first time, it was really weird to get together with a group of "strangers" and discover that thanks to the internet, we have met and we aren't strangers. This time, Steph was the "stranger" but it didn't even cross my mind until I was falling asleep Friday night and I realized that maybe it's weird for her to share a room with someone she's never "met". For me, it's becoming pretty normal. I was very happy to discover that Steph is as sweet and intelligent as I expected her to be. She was a little taller than I guessed, but I always get that wrong about people. She is certainly another friend that I love having in my tribe (to steal from Laura).

So, we didn't do anything crazy or note worthy. We mostly wandered and talked and laughed and ate. And it was just what I needed. On Sunday, we met up with Liz for a BBQ with her beautiful family, and I pretty much had to force myself to leave. Everyone is so kind and funny and the children were just too cute not to want to gobble up. It was perfect.

After an enjoyable ride home, I got to come home to my wonderful men and hear about all the fun they had down at the shore with my dad. I think their men's weekend was just as great for them, even if it does mean I now have plastic nun-chucks in the house.

Chemo Update

2011-06-22T10:49:00.003-04:00

My mom had her 3rd of four chemo treatments on June 9th. Her last treatment will be next Wednesday, and I cannot wait until this whole thing is over. (She feels the same, just a whole lot more!)

Chemo hasn't been as hard on her as I thought it would be, but I thought it would be a nightmare, so that's not saying much. In my mind, one of the worst things would be the endless vomiting. Surprisingly, that's the one aspect that they can treat pretty well with medication. What I didn't realize was just how much it would wipe her out. Two weeks after her last round, just walking down the hall of her building to drop her trash exhausts her. She did manage to go out to lunch with Michael and I the other day, but that was pretty much the whole day for her. At this point, being able to keep up with the dishes is a big accomplishment.

In addition to the sheer exhaustion, are all the small insults. Chemo can cause mouth sores, and my mom had one for a week that was an endless source of torment. Every time she'd try to eat, she would end up biting it once again. A constant painful reminder.

Another weird side effect was that her hands started to look sunburned. Since she hadn't been outside in a week, she knew that couldn't be it. After several days, the skin on her hands started itching and peeling. That lead her to call the doctor's office. The nurses reassured her that hot, peeling hands are normal.

Not any kind of normal I'd like, that's for sure.

Then, add in the neuropathy. At times, her hands go numb. Probably better than burning and itching, but it sure makes it hard to pick things up. At other times, especially when she's laying in bed trying to fall asleep, her hands tingle with the pins and needles feeling. I don't even have words for how much that sucks.

And of course, the most visible of all the side effects. The hair loss. Before my mom lost her hair, she said she wouldn't mind losing it. And, I don't think she did. She doesn't mind not having hair. However, what she does mind is going out in public where everyone can readily see that she's a cancer patient. She does not want people feeling sorry for her, so she simply stopped going out. And it made her very depressed for several weeks after her 2nd round.

Guys, this just tears me apart. It's so hard to stand by and watch as the treatment that is her best bet, makes her suffer. I hate it. HATE IT. And, I wish so badly that it were over and that she would at least be on the mend. But, she has one more round before she can finally start to recover. Even with an end in sight, it's hard to stomach.

Summer Reading List

2011-06-20T12:35:00.002-04:00

Last Friday I was poking around the website for the School Michael will be attending in the fall. They haven't provided any information about Kindergarten yet, so I wanted to see if there was anything on line. Nope. But, I stumbled across his summer reading list.

Yes, they have a reading list for children entering kindergarten.

OK, I'll own up to it. As an honor roll student, my first response was that I should order every book on the list and come up with an incentive plan for Michael so we could read them all. When I saw the time tracking calendar, I started trying to figure out how much time we spend reading each day, and how to best record that time.

Then, I stopped for a moment and realized that Michael just turned five. Why do kids going into kindergarten need a summer reading list? This is as bad as his preschool making him do homework once a week so that he'll be prepared to do homework in kindergarten. (Of course, I think they give kindergartners homework simply to prepare them for homework in first grade. If we keep this up, our kids will be doing homework in the womb.)

Stacey asked me a good question that hadn't occurred to me. What's the purpose of the reading list? I'm such a book worm and rule follower that it never even dawned on me to wonder about the purpose of the list. After looking over the titles and the tracking list and think their are two purposes. Several of the titles are about starting kindergarten. I'm going to pick those up for Michael to help him make the adjustment into the new school. That seems like a good purpose to me.

The second purpose, I think, is to encourage parents to read to their children everyday. We already read every night before bed, and he's already memorized several of the other books on the list, so I won't worry about the picture books on the list. Instead, we are going to continue to read chapter books every night because that's a whole lot more fun. And I think making reading fun is the most important thing you can do for a five year old, when it comes to books.

I'm still undecided about having Michael record all off the books we read on their tracking list. It's a good way for him to practice his writing and to introduce the idea of individual authors. On the other hand, do I really want to send him to school with a list of books on the 3rd and 4th grade level when some of the kids in his class may only speak English as a second language? Not sure what to do here. Any suggestions?

Weird Things

2011-06-15T13:34:00.002-04:00

My life is weird, probably because I'm weird. I'm cool with that. But sometimes something weird stands out to me.

For example, the other day I was talking to my mom about things she needed me to pick up for her. She's not eating much after this 3rd round of chemo, so she didn't need any food. However, she did need me to pick up rat food for her pet rat. (The pet rat thing is NOT the weird thing in this.) As we are talking she tells me, "Make sure you buy the high quality rat food, not that cheap stuff from Wal-Mart. Ratzo doesn't like that. Make sure it has a mix of good stuff like seeds in it."

High quality rat food? I'm sure that Templeton from Charlotte's Web would be appalled!

Here's another one that I thought of yesterday while running before a rain storm. I wear glasses which can be a pain when I'm running. I hate if it starts to rain because then I end up with drips of water obscuring my view. One day I made a comment about this to Laura and she pointed out that I could wear a baseball cap.

It made me realize that I had never once in my life, despite the fact that Andy lives in baseball caps, considered baseball caps sports equipment. This huge light bulb went off over my head when I realized that the "baseball" portion of "baseball caps" actually meant something.

Do'h!

And the final weird thing I've noticed recently was when I was describing the Mud Run to some coworkers. "It was really hard, I ended up with mud up my nose, Andy almost drowned, I was frightened a few times. It was AWESOME."

And their response to such a crazy description? "We need to do that!"

Yep, weird.

Mud, Mud Everywhere

2011-06-13T13:00:00.002-04:00

And I do mean everywhere.

Andy and I ran the MS Mud Run on Saturday and it was the muddiest, craziest, second hardest thing I've ever done.

First, I want to thank everyone who donated to support the MS society. Andy and I raised over $800 which will go to support research and support for people with MS. Add that in with the donations earned by the other 4000 mudders, and they raised more than half a million dollars. That's a lot of money for such a great cause. So, once again, thank you.

As for the run? It was crazy. The only thing I have to compare it to was Warrior Dash last year. Now, I don't want to belittle Warrior Dash. It wasn't a walk in the park. It was hard and it was muddy. And, it was nothing like the MS Mud Run.

It starts with a straight run for over the first mile. It's hard to pace yourself when people are flying by you, but I knew I would never make it if I didn't hold back. Andy, who is much faster than I am, finally fell in behind me and let me control the pace. Even doing that, I probably gave it more than I should have, so I was hot and tired by the time we got to the first mud pit. I dove right in. It felt nice and cool and I appreciated it. I didn't appreciate it as much that night when I was picking dried clumps of mud out of my nose, but at the time it felt nice.

I'm not going to go into detail on all of the obstacles or this post will be way too long. There were about 30 of them total, and most of them ended in either a mud pit, or a water pit. We ran, slid, scooted, and dragged ourselves through warm mud, cold mud, stinky mud, shoe sucking mud. You name it, and we did it.

Getting through mud is gross, but not that scary or hard. Some of the obstacles were scary and hard! One of the most challenging was crossing thin logs over a ravine. The logs were split in half and had a diameter of about 7-8 inches. The problem is, the wide part was facing the bottom of the ravine. The tops were just curved, muddy edges that I had to edge my way over. The guy in front of me went down in a split and cracked himself hard in the...um...you know. A girl had fallen off and I saw them strapping her to a gurney when I got to the other side. I think the main reason I made it across was because I didn't want to have to jump down 7 feet to the ground.

That was followed by another one of the scary obstacles. It was a steep 15 foot dirt slope that you had to scoot/slide down. There were rocks in the way, which could be used to hold you up, or if you lost control, to give you bruises on your butt. I was very happy to get to the muddy pool at the bottom.

There were several high obstacles, which gave me a new appreciation for just how high 20 feet feels. The first they called a ladder, but it wasn't really a ladder. It was boards strapped together with the "rungs" about 3.5 feet apart. It was very rickety looking and feeling, and when I got to the top I realized I had no idea how to get myself over it and onto the other side. It took a lot of positioning and trial and error, but I did it. I admit, as I was going over I was realizing that I could get seriously hurt running this thing.

The scariest obstacle of the day was one that I had no problem with. It was an eight foot high platform over a muddy pool of water that we had to jump into. They called it the "leap of faith" because you have no idea how deep the water is. Andy and I grabbed hands at the top, counted to three, and then both balked. After a quick pause, Andy went for it and I watched him land into the water. The top of his head bobbed up, but his face didn't make it above the water. Then he went down again. This might be a good time to mention that Andy doesn't know how to swim. As I was watching, the top of his head appear again, and he was moving sideways in the pit, not forward to the slope up. Again, his face did not break the surface. That's when everyone on the platform started calling to the life guard. The guy did his job and dove in and gave Andy the shove he needed to get his feet out of the mud. I know it was Andy's scariest moment, but watching him struggle under the water also made it the scariest obstacle for me. I'll never forget that moment.

To his credit, Andy took a moment to calm down, and we were off again. We still had about three miles left at that point, and we were both determined to make it. And while there were no more water pits that were that deep, there were still tons of mud bogs, water holes, cargo nets, rope swings, and other crazy stuff to go through.

After over two hours, we finally came to the last two obstacles. You climb up a big dirt mound and then slide down a wet tarp into a muddy pit. Once you make it out, you have to drag yourself through mud on your belly under 12 inch high ropes. I had nothing left in my arms, so I had to push myself through with my legs. It took longer than I expected since I thought I'd just slide across the mud. The very last volunteer who was sitting in the middle seemed really nice. As I was going by, she rubbed my shoulder and encouraged me on. I was really touched until I realized she was actually smearing mud all over me. She finished off with a nice wad of mud on the top of my head!

At 2 hours and 17 minutes, Andy and I finished the race. Together. We were filthy, tired, and starving. After getting hosed down by the fire hose, we changed and had pulled pork sandwiches while talking over the crazy race we had just run.

Later, when we got home and showered, I discovered that I had mud everywhere. The mud on the bottom of my feet was so ground it that it took several showers to finally get it out, and my toenails still aren't grit free.

I cannot wait to do it next year.

Definitions

2011-06-10T13:15:00.003-04:00

This is a conversation between Michael and I on the ride home from a not too great trip to the local outlets where a certain five-year-old may not have been behaving up to my standards.

Michael: Mommy, can we go to the bookstore?

Me: No.

Michael: Why not?

Me: Because of your charming behavior at the outlets.

Long pause while Michael considers what I just said, most likely trying to figure out a way to negotiate with me for a trip to the book store.

Michael: Mommy, what does "charming" mean?

Me: It means attractive or pleasing.

Short pause while I think about what I've just said.

Me: Also, the next word you may want to know the definition of is "sarcasm".

Dropping the Tray

2011-06-08T12:02:00.002-04:00

Yesterday, Laura did a wonderful post about ignoring the tray. Laura is a working mom with twin boys who runs, has a huge social network, and also managed to find some spare time to kick off her photography business. Trust me, I've missed about a bizillion things that she also does in her average week. I'm always amazed by how much she manages to pack into her life, and I'm pretty sure that not only does she not sleep, but that she also uses a Timer Turner like Hermione in Harry Potter.

Her point in her post is that one of her tricks to pulling all of this off is that she "ignores the tray". Or, that she doesn't focus on everything that's stacked on her tray, she just picks the damn thing up and carries it. I think that's an awesome philosophy.

It's also one that I haven't been able to pull off lately. In fact, not only have I failed at ignoring the tray, I think I dumped it on my head. Even worse, instead of cleaning up the mess and moving on, I've been yelling at myself for dumping it while kicking the plates around temper tantrum style.

I have a huge list of things that I need to get done. Huge. Dentist appointments that should have been scheduled six months ago. A slow leak in my tire that I drove on for months. My bathroom hadn't been cleaned in so long I refuse to confess to just how long I let it slide. This is just the tip of the ice berg.

It got to the point where I'd sit there listing everything I needed to do in my head, but instead of just taking one thing at a time and working my way through the list, I would get overwhelmed and not do any of it. Which only made the list grow over time. To the point where it felt like I'd never, ever be caught up again. All of the stress I was building up over it, made it even harder to think about tackling the monster.

Last week, Michael had some tummy troubles that lead to delayed bedtimes and me flip flopping between thinking I needed to take him to the ER and being angry because I thought he was playing it up for attention. After several nights of this, he had a particularity bad evening. Andy saw just how worked up I was getting and sent me away while he stayed with Michael.

I stepped away, and then I lost it. I just cried and cried and cried. Not just because I was concerned and frustrated over Michael's tummy troubles, but for the family issues I dealt with last fall. For the two months when I had strep/sinus infection/chest infection/messed up ribs and had to continue working because I had no sick time left. For the lump my mom found in her breast and all of the shitty stuff that has come with that. For the endless stress of trying to save up some time off while everything is conspiring to use it up. For being mad at myself for being overwhelmed by things that are overwhelming. For all of it.

I realize now what my mistake was. I decided to just plow right through everything. I didn't have a choice about going to work, or waiting for news from my mom, or any of the things I did. What I could have done, however, is recognize that it was hard and find ways to take care of myself through it all. You know, like maybe I could have asked for help. Maybe I could have cut myself a break when I wasn't pulling things off as well I I hoped. Maybe, just maybe, I could have sat down and had a good cry a few months earlier than I did. Maybe I could have cut myself a break. Getting it done was enough, I didn't need to do it with style and grace.

I've worked in the restaurant business and I've carried a lot of trays. Trays that were stacked way too high and were not balanced properly. I rarely ever dropped anything, but I'll be honest, until yesterday I had never heard of the the phrase "ignore the tray". I simply made sure that my hands were clean and that the bottom of the tray wasn't greasy. That was the only way to ensure a good foundation for carrying a tray, and it's that foundation that allows you to ignore the tray in the first place.

Last week, I took a little time to work on my own needs and help rebuild that foundation. Now it's time to get back out there and start serving again.

Randomness

2011-06-01T13:02:00.004-04:00

I'm having motivation problems at the moment. In fact, I was going to blog yesterday, but I just didn't have it in me. I had a whole post planned and everything. But, it just isn't going to happen. However, I really think I need to make an effort to get moving, so I think I'll hit you all with some randomness.

We went to my father in law's this weekend for a BBQ. After realizing that Michael had been gone for about 10 minutes, I went looking for him. I found him around the side of my father in law's house with his pants down getting ready to pee in the house.
I think my laughter may have overridden the lesson about not peeing on houses that I was trying to make.
Before the holiday weekend, I decided that I'm not having any beer until I drop the extra pounds I've put on lately. I realized I forgot to mention that to Andy when he came home with a case of Yuengling.
I liked Andy's plan better.
Michael has picked up a new habit of singing just one or two lines from a song over and over again. Songs include the original Mickey Mouse club song, the Mickey Mouse Club house song, made up words to "It's a Small World", and one of the songs off of the new Foo Fighter's album. It's driving Andy crazy.
It's not bothering me much (yet) and I even find myself singing along. I'm sure that's not helping Andy any.
Mickey Mouse!
Donald Duck!
After several tries, Michael has finally discovered that he really, really likes the Magic Tree House books so instead of reading several small books at bedtime, we are reading half of a Magic Tree House book. I'm very grateful for a little variety, and am excited for all of the other books we can start to dive into know.
This one's for Stacey - However, he does want to take the books to school with him. On today's ride he "read" several pages in mouse. So, it was an entire trip of him going, "squeak, squeak, squeak" and flipping pages.
An added plus with the books is that the Magic Tree House belongs to Morgan La Fey (not the Mists Of Avalon Morgan) and one of my mom's kitties is named Morgan. Michael loves this connection.
Squeak.

Licking Our Way Through Disney World

2011-05-24T10:03:00.002-04:00

Back when we thought that my mom was only going to need surgery and chemo, we decided that we would take a family vacation and booked a trip to Disney World. If you are a Star Wars geek, you may be aware that Hollywood Studios starts it's Star Wars weekends in May. Which explains why we have spent the past two family vacations at Disney in May. This year, Andy wanted to be there for the reopening of Star Tours, so we had to be there on the 20th. Knowing how important this was to him, and also the fact that I really needed a vacation, I went along with the Disney plans.

I didn't say much about it before we left because I was feeling a bit guilty about going. As I said, we decided to go when we thought my mom wouldn't need chemo. As it turned out, her second round of chemo was scheduled for the week we would be in Florida. How could I go on a fun vacation while my mom was under going chemo?

Fortunately, my sister was free and she came to stay with my mom while we were gone. And I confess, I'm very happy about that. First, it was nice for them to spend time together. Second, because I really needed a vacation. Bad.

And, it was just the vacation I needed. We had perfect weather, our flights were great, everything worked out really well...

...considering we were traveling with a 5 year old.

For the most part, Michael was very good. He really enjoyed himself this time, and begged to stay longer when it was time to leave. However, we may have made a bad judgment call on the first day that bit us on the butt for the next two days.

Michael woke up at 6:00 am on Sunday when we were leaving. Our flight was in the afternoon, and despite my optimism, he did not nap on the plane. We got to our Cabin at the Fort Wilderness resort at 7:00 pm. So, what's the logical thing to do? Put him to bed. What did we actually do? We went to the Magic Kingdom. On the plus side, he got to Ride the Buzz Lightyear ride 7 times in a row, which was awesome. On the down side, we kept him up until midnight. Yes, 18 hours straight.

5 year olds don't do well when they don't get enough sleep. Especially stubborn and contrary 5 year olds. We spent the next two days fighting him to get onto every ride, and then fighting him to get off of every ride. It was a bit stressful, but he settled down on Wednesday when we had our best day.

One of the things Andy really wanted was to get Michael into the Jedi training show. Thanks to some tips from our neighbor, be knew just what to do and managed to get him signed up for the 10:50 show.

Guess what the kids in the Jedi Training show get to do.

They get to fight Darth Vader! Andy, um, I mean Michael was in 7th heaven.

We have 300 pictures from the show and video as well. Don't worry, I'm not going to post the 20 minute clip and guilt you into watching it. Just know that this made a certain daddy, I mean child very happy.

So, he's a somewhat sloppy Jedi. What are you going to do about it?

After the show, we jumped right over to the Indiana Jones stunt show. Michael LOVED it. I'm not sure if Andy has realized it yet, but all of our attempts at making Michael a Star Wars geek have failed, but my backup plan of Indiana Jones fan seems to be working very well. After the show, we bought him an Indian Jones kit with the hat, whip, sword, gun, and a bag of gems. Best purchase ever. He played with them every single day. He even had me calling him "Dr. Jones" at times.

Really, it's not surprising that my dinosaur obsessed child would connect better with an adventuresome archeologist than a Jedi Knight.

After the show, we walked by Star Tours and discovered that they were doing test runs. We jumped in line and got to ride the new ride before it was even premiered. It was awesome. It's now in 3-D and there are multiple scenarios, so each time we went on the ride was different. Even the line leading up to the ride was surrounded by fun and entertaining stuff. it was awesome.

Since we were already going crazy that day, I decided to give in and let Michael get his face painted. I've been against this for a while because I'm a bit of a chemical-phobe (who wears make-up, go figure) but what's one afternoon of face paint?

Guess who he picked?

Darth Maul! Maybe we haven't failed on the Star Wars front after all!

Maybe it's because we have beaten the topic to death with him?

Nothing like a little overkill!

Overall, the trip was wonderful. The weather was great, we got on tons of rides, and Michael was even good standing in all of the lines.

The one amazing thing is that he didn't get sick while we were there. Every time we were stuck in line, Michael ended up with his face pressed up against the railings licking everything. EVERYTHING people. He licked everything. It was disgusting and nothing we did could discourage him from it. The kid just really wanted to taste Disney World.

Ewww...

If You Can!

2011-05-11T12:39:00.002-04:00

Last year I ran two races. The first was a local 5K in the park where I do most of my running. It was a lot of fun, and Andy and I just signed up to run it "together" this year. I put "together" in quotes because he's going to have to slow himself down a lot if he wants to keep pace with me. The second race I ran last year was Warrior Dash with Laura and Maria. We are signed up again for Warrior Dash Boston this Summer.

There's one crucial element missing from Andy and I running the 5K in the park. MUD! We decided that was not acceptable, so we did some searching to find a good mud run for us to do together. After looking at locations, and causes, we picked the Philadelphia Mud Run MS. It's a 10k (YIKES!) mud run that I suspect will make Warrior Dash seem like a walk in the park. I looking forward to getting muddy with my hubby!

We signed up for it so long ago, and so much has happened since than, that I didn't realize how soon it it. We'll be running it one month from today on June 11th. (Again, YIKES!)

The thing I like about this run, aside from the fact that Andy and I are going to get filthy together is that it's also for a good cause. The proceeds from the race go to the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, and I'm very happy to be supporting their efforts. As they state on their website, "The Society helps people affected by MS by funding cutting-edge research, driving change through advocacy, facilitating professional education, and providing programs and services that help people with MS and their families move their lives forward."

And here's the great thing! If you want, you can donate to our team to help advance the goals of the MS Society. So, if you have a few bucks to spare, click here and help us out. And if you don't, you'll still get to enjoy the thought of the two of us slogging through the mud together.

The Silver Lining

2011-05-10T12:55:00.002-04:00

Over ten years ago, my mom started to notice that her eyes were getting very dry and scratchy. Then, she started having trouble with an extremely dry mouth. Even her nose started to become uncomfortably dry. Based on her symptoms, her nurse practitioner suspected Sjogrens syndrome and sent her to a rheumatologist to confirm the diagnosis. Sure enough, the NP was correct and cut my mom's time to diagnosis from an average of 7 years to 1.

Sjogrens is an autoimmune disorder where her white blood cells attach the moisture producing glands in her body. While a dry mouth and eyes sound uncomfortable, it's much worse than most people expect. My mom's eyes are so dry that contact lenses actually fall off of her eyes. Her mouth is so dry that it creates dental problems. Additionally, without any moisture in her mouth or nose, she has almost no sense of smell or taste. The only foods she really enjoys anymore are chocolate and very moist foods like soup and foods with sauces.

When I learned that my mom would be undergoing chemo, I knew that it would reduce her white blood cell count. It made me wonder if maybe she'd see some relief from her Sjogrens. As she started to improve from her first round of chemo, I noticed her commenting about how hungry she was and how good food tastes. In fact, just about every time I talked to her, she was making some kind of comment about food. Finally, over the weekend she commented that food tastes so good that she's going to gain 500 pounds while doing chemo.

Not something you hear often from patients undergoing chemo very often. Not only does she have her sense of taste back, she can smell things again. I've even heard her sniffling a little as she gets used to the moisture in her nose.

Now that she's been through her first round, and knows that she only feels really horrible for about 3-4 days, she's decided that it's not too bad. Add in the return of her ability to enjoy food again, and she's decided to view chemo as a respite from her Sjogren's, and not the nightmare experience she was afraid it was going to be.

Now that's how you put a good spin on something.

5 Years

2011-05-09T12:06:00.003-04:00

Michael, you turned five years old today.

The past year has been an amazing year for you. A year ago I could easily pick you up and carry you around for some time. Now, when I pick you up, you start sliding out of my arms after just a few moments because you have gotten so heavy. But, your long legs stretch down so far, it's not like you have far to go when my arms give out. You've gotten so big this past year that several people have asked me what grade you are in! They are always surprised when I answer that you are in preschool.

In addition to your height, I think people also mistake your age because of the way you speak. Between your clear speech and vocabulary, you haven't sounded like a four year old since you were about two. Several of your teachers at school have commented on how they find themselves engaged in a conversation with you and forget that your just a little boy. While I'm used to that aspect of conversing with you, my big realization about your speech this year was that I no longer "scaffold" language with you. I used to try and speak just slightly ahead of where you were developmentally, but somewhere over the past year I realized I was simply speaking to you the way I do with everyone else. There were only a few times you needed clarification on a word, and a simple explanation seemed to do the job.

One of the most surprising things I learned about you this year is that you are a rule follower. Your teachers constantly tell me what a well behaved little boy you are. You've never been sent to the director's office, and as far as I know, they have never needed to put you into time out. In addition to being a rule follower, it disturbs you when other children break rules. While you refuse to tell me anything about your day at school, you frequently report on who has broken what rules and who has been sent to time out.

Your desire to follow the rules frequently comes in direct conflict with the fact that you dislike most rules. This has resulted in one of your biggest developments over the past year. You have become a hardcore negotiator. Instead of breaking the rules, you work very, very hard to change them. Some people find this very frustrating as they think little children should do what they are told. And, when it comes to health, safety, and respect for others that is true. But, I love this about you. I love the creativity it takes to come up with so many alternatives. I love the sensitivty it requires to try to understand the situation well enough to manipulate it. I love that you are willing to push against the status quo.

It does, however, make playing board games with you a nightmare. Playing Candyland with you is an exercise in pure torture, as you constantly try to change the rules to insure that you win. I confess, it was I who hid it from you.

One of the biggest changes you've made over the past year is that you have become more reasonable. You have always been a naturally contrary child, so much so that you would even defy things that are in your own best interest. Once you resisted something, you would always resist it. Now, however, you are willing to listen and consider changing your mind. This has lead to significantly fewer tantrums, in the past six months. I think everyone is happier for this development.

One thing that has not changed in the past year is the fact that you hide your skills until you feel confident that you have mastered them. Last year you would draw free hand, but refused to color because you were unable to stay within the lines. Lots of practice over the year has allowed you to develop very good coloring skills, however you stopped drawing free hand because your pictures didn't look exactly like what you wanted them to look like.

The biggest skill that you have been hiding is how well you can read. Despite the fact that your teacher is frequently telling me how well you can read, you refuse to do it for me. I've given up trying to explain to her that you'll do things for her that you won't do for me, and I just nod and say yes. However, while you won't sit down and read to me from a book, you frequently give yourself up accidentally. You'll ask for something in the grocery store that you could only know by reading the package, you'll comment on something you read along the side of the road, and sometime you even slip up and read something in a book like "Silvisaurus" because you are too excited to remember that you don't read for me.

This past year has been exciting, and it make me even more excited to think of what is to come over this next year as you continue to grown, mature and learn. I cannot wait to see the changes that take place as you transition from daycare into Kindergarten.

Glorious

2011-05-05T07:45:00.002-04:00

My mom is improving everyday, and last night she finally felt up to a visit from Michael. She's missed him terribly, and so has he. He even told me the other day that he wanted to talk to her doctor and make the doctor let him see her.

My mom lives on the top floor of her apartment building at the farthest point from the elevator. When the elevator doors opened, Michael took off running. My mom heard him coming and stepped out into the hall. Michael ran at top speed down the entire length of the hall until he was in her arms. They wrapped their arms around one another and they were both grinning from ear to ear.

It was glorious.

Randomness

2011-05-04T13:00:00.002-04:00

Yep, it's that time again. you know, the time where I make even less sense than normal. Randomness!

I had a discussion with my neighbor last night about what he should get her for Mother's day. She's hard to buy for. Really hard. One of his ideas was to get her a hotel room for the day and let her go there and do whatever she wanted, all by herself. I don't think he'll do it, but doesn't that sound AWESOME!
I've discovered that Michael is much more willing to eat dinner if I pretend to speak for the food on his plate and ask him to send "me" to the party in his tummy. Granted, I sound like a crazy person when I squeak out, "I want to do the esophagus slide, " but it works. Thank you Yo Gabba Gabba.
My mom is regaining her strength from her first round of chemo. She hasn't started losing her hair yet, but I've assured her that I have a pair of clippers and I'll trimmer her up nicely when she starts getting patchy. I'm strongly considering giving her a Mohawk.
Did I ever mention that when I was little, my mom used to take me to the hair dresser and tell the stylist to make me look like Shirley Temple? Guess what, I hated that.
Don't worry, after snapping a picture, I'd finish off my mom's hair and help her fit a wig.
We went to my neighbors' last night to celebrate their son's 5th birthday. When it was time to leave, Michael ran out of their house. After saying our goodbyes, we stepped outside and Michael was gone. No worries though, I glanced in our door and saw Super Mario Bros. on the TV and knew he was OK.
On the other hand, since when can my little baby learn how to: open doors, turn on the TV, navigate using two remotes to get a video game on, and play video games?
Yikes!

Reflections on Nature

2011-05-02T13:14:00.002-04:00

My mom started Chemo last week. The actual six hour session went really well. My mom had no problems with the infusion, she got to chat with other patients, and the nurses even brought them lunch. When I picked her up and asked her how it went, she said she had fun. Not what I was expecting to hear, but a pleasant surprise.

One thing they all told her during the session was that the third day is the worst. Sure enough, by Friday she was starting to feel it, and by Saturday she was sick. Very sick. The best I can tell from her description is that she's feeling an overwhelming sense of fatigue. And, unlike the flu, she isn't tired enough to sleep through it all. So, all she can do is lay on the sofa and watch TV. Even playing on her Nintendo DS is too hard for her.

Part of me feels like the entire world should just come to a screeching halt during all of this. My mom has cancer and she's undergoing chemo and life should not simply just go on. It feels wrong. Why isn't everyone frozen in time holding their breath until this is over?

On the other hand, life does have to go on. I still have a job that I need to do. I still have a family that needs to be cared for. In fact, Michael needs more attention during this time to help him adjust to all the changes this has required from him. We can't just hit the pause button. We can't hold our breath. We need to carry on with our lives as best we can.

On Saturday, while my mom laid exhausted on her couch, we decided to take advantage of the perfect spring day and head to the Morris Arboretum. All of the dog woods and cherry trees are in bloom, and I imagine it was probably one of the most beautiful days to visit out of the entire year.

The Arboretum has a very English garden feel to it. There are gazebos and rose gardens, and a lot of stone walls and paths.

We have had a ton of rain this year, so everything is lush and green. We spent several hours wandering the grounds.

Michael let his imagination run wild. He found "secret paths" around every turn and raced along them chasing some mystery of his own making.

At one point we even had a fairytale story going where Michael started as a lion statue that was brought to life by a fairy. She tapped him on the head to bring him to life, and she turned all the children into lions so they could play with him without fear.

The fairy was particularly enchanted by the pink Dogwood trees and she stopped to gaze at them while her little lion took off down another secret path.

Andy and I drew attention to everything that we thought Michael might enjoy. We threw stones in the streams, pumped water at the log cabin, and wandered for so long that we were all exhausted by the end.

At one point, I discovered a puff of feathers on the ground. I called Michael over and explained that it looked like a hawk had caught a bird to eat. At first glance I thought it was a blue jay, but after looking at the feathers closer I realized that it was most likely a mocking bird.

Michael wanted to know why a hawk would catch a bird so I explained that hawks need to eat, and that they eat other birds. Michael was very sad about this. I tried to explain the food chain to him to help him understand. He picked up several feathers and kept them with him through out the rest of our walk.

*****************

Later that night I called my mom as we were driving home from the mall. She sounded like she was doing a little better. She had managed to eat a little and the aching in her shoulders was gone. I asked if she wanted me to visit, but she didn't have the energy for it. Michael did ask to talk to her, and they chatted for a few minutes before he returned the phone to me.

As I spoke with my mom to make sure she wasn't running a fever or experiencing any of the "symptoms of concern" Michael played with the mocking bird feathers from earlier in the day. I hung up, feeling helpless and dismayed. Michael pondered the feathers a little more.

"I'm really sad about the bird that got eaten by the hawk." He said.

"I know Michael, sometimes nature is sad." I replied.

Very sad, in fact.

Weird

2011-04-26T12:10:00.002-04:00

For those that have spent much time chatting with me, it's pretty well known that one of the biggest sources of stress in my life comes from food. Andy cannot eat onions, has issues with food textures, and is very picky about food temperatures. Me, I have issues with food textures that further limit our menu. It was already a problem, but then we were blessed with a child who is the fussiest eater in the world.

Feeding my family is a nightmare.

In addition to being a fussy eater, Michael is downright hostile about eating. I don't know how this happened. Knowing the battles my parents had with my sister, I worked very hard to make food a non-issue. But, it didn't work. Michael would never acknowledge that he was hungry, he activity resisted eating most foods, and even fought joining us at the dinner table.

Once he hit about 40 pounds, a few months ago, he finally got to the point where he would have to ask for food because he needed fuel to run his body. He would do it grudgingly and it even included a temper tantrum where he got mad at himself for joining us for dinner when we hadn't asked him to.

Let that sink in. He was mad at himself because he was so hungry he had to sit down at the dinner table and ask for food.

Things have been improving slightly. Michael will now ask for food if he is hungry. He's resumed eating most of the foods he once ate but gave up about a year ago when he switched to Mac 'n Cheeseianism. But, he's still been down right hostile about joining us at the dinner table.

A month or so ago, I was making dinner when I asked Michael if he was hungry. "Yes. I want Mac 'n Cheese in the living room." I politely informed him that he needed to eat in the dinning room with the family.

Michael started chanting with the sweetest, sing songy voice, "I hate the dinning room! I hate the dinning room!" Over and over again. The words didn't go with the cheerful sound of the song.

Well, that was it. I was just done with the whole thing. DONE! What I really wanted to do was go ape-snot crazy and rant and rave about how insane it is to be hostile towards food and eating. Years of this has pushed me to just about my breaking point. But, only just about.

I collected myself, remained calm, and using the same sweet sing songy tone, I walked into the room with him chanting, "I hate fighting about dinner, I hate fighting about dinner." I had a smile on my face and the levity of my mood was clear.

It was just a joke to help keep me sane in the face of the great food wars.

But you know what? It worked. When I called Andy and Michael for dinner, Michael came to dinner with a smile on his face. He ate until he was full, and then excused himself and washed his hands and face.

I was shocked and was sure it was just a fluke.

The next night, I called him for dinner and he came. And he ate. And then the next night and the next. He even started trying new foods and discovered he liked a few of them.

I've been hesitant to mention anything about this because I'm afraid it works the same way as saying your baby is sleeping through the night. As soon as you breath a word about it, it goes away. And I do not want this to go away.

Last night, when I called that dinner was ready, Michael jumped up and came running into the kitchen yelling, "YAY! Dinner Time!" I stared at him in shock as he went running by.

There is only one thing I can conclude from this. Someone has stolen Michael and replaced him with a cyborg that looks just like him. It's really the only thing that makes sense.

Sad

2011-04-25T12:29:00.002-04:00

This is one of those posts that I end up debating with myself over whether I should post it or not. It's a meaningful post to me. I want to get it out of me. But, I worry that it's depressing, or overly dramatic, or something crazy like that. Today, I've decided to go with it. Life isn't always happy, so it seems silly for my blog to always be happy.

As I've mentioned several times now, my mom has (had?) breast cancer. I included the "had" in there because it's an important point. She had localized cancer that was surgically removed. All of her tests came back negative for the cancer having spread. It's very possible that the surgery removed all of the cancer cells and that she's cured. The chemotherapy, targeted therapy and radiation therapies she will be receiving are extra therapies in case some of those sneaky HER2+ cells slipped by. They are being given because they reduce the likelihood of the cancer recurring.

I know this is not the worst case scenario when it comes to cancer.

But that doesn't mean that I'm not scared for my mom. I am. I've read over all of the information on the medications that she will be given starting on Wednesday. They don't mince words. Some people do very well with the regimen. Many people do. But...of course there is always a but. With chemo, there is a pretty long list of them. Nausea, vomiting, hair loss, bruising, fatigue, fluid retention, risk of infection, mouth sores, cardiac complications, allergic reactions, death. Eek!

Clearly, that slight risk of death from the medications is a tad bit scary. But, when my mind starts wandering into that territory, I just go into distract mode. I need to know this, but dwelling on it doesn't help anything so I do my best to focus on areas with more benefit, like what things I can do now to make things easier for my mom in the weeks to come.

One thing that I can do, is consider the much more likely effects of Chemo, and find ways to help my mom through them. I've done some shopping to stock up on necessities for her. She may not feel great, but damn it, she will not run out of soda on my watch. I'm working out a mental schedule of when to stop over and check on her and do small tasks like changing the cat litter (which she's not allowed to do even if she feels great), picking up laundry and doing shopping. I want to make sure that the little things are covered, so she can focus on the big things.

From her point of view, I think one of the hardest side effects to deal with is the idea of hair loss. It's so much a part of every woman's identity, that just thinking of losing your hair feels like it somehow diminishes you. On paper, it seems like the easiest side-effect because it doesn't hurt, but in reality it's the most visible indication that something is wrong.

From my point of view, the common side-effect that disturbs me the most is the increased risk of infection. The first reason is because I don't want her getting sick while also dealing with the effects of chemo. The second reason is because it means that she is supposed to avoid being around crowds and people who may expose her to germs. And who spreads germs better than an almost five-year-old who goes to daycare, picks his nose, and still hasn't entirely grasped the concept of how tissues work?

Michael has spent at least two days a week with my mom since he was three months old. She has always been a huge part of his life. He looks forward to "grandma days" with excitement. And the feeling is mutual. To quote my mom, "He's the whole purpose to my life."

This week, Michael starts daycare full time. If my mom does well on chemo, somewhere down the line she may be able to take him for a day here or there. But I don't want to make promises to either of them. And it makes me really sad. Sad for my mom that during this difficult time she will not have the comfort of Michael hugs and giggles. Sad for Michael who doesn't really understand what is going on and who is going to miss his grandma terribly. She came over for Easter dinner last night, but it felt more like the last supper to me. Their last supper together, at least for a while.

The current treatment plan calls for four three week cycles of chemo. That's 12 weeks, or three months. I'm sure that those weeks are going to fly by for me. I'm going to be busy juggling work, my normal life, and caring for my mom. It's going to be July before I even know it.

But, I'm not foolish enough to think that those 12 weeks are going to fly by for either of them. Time goes much slower when you are five, so I expect those 12 weeks to feel like an eternity to Michael. Even worse, time goes very slowly when you feel sick and miserable, so I also expect those weeks to be painfully long for my mom. It makes my heart ache for them both.

Phone Photo Friday - It's Coming!!!!

2011-04-22T10:39:00.003-04:00

I was going through the camera roll on my iPhone the other day and discovered that Michael has been having a little fun with my phone. I thought he was playing Plants vs. Zombies in the car, but he wasn't.

There were about 30 of these!

At least he wasn't picking his nose.

Like Pulling Teeth

2011-04-21T08:32:00.003-04:00

Michael has been in part time daycare for over a year now. Next week, he'll be going to full time. I really like the center that he goes to. They are very responsive. Everyone, including the director, knows Michael and appear to truly care about him. They have been very understanding of the changes we have needed to accommodate my mom's medical treatments. It's nice to know that we can count on them.

One thing I don't know, is what Michael does at school. I get reports from his teacher and they post he class schedule. So, I know the structure of his day. I know all of the kids in his class. But, I have no idea what Michael actually does on any given day because he refuses to talk about it. Here's a typical conversation I have with Michael after a daycare day.

Me: Did you have a good day at school today?

Michael: It was great!

Me: That's good. What was so great about it?

Michael: I don't know.

Me: What did you do?

Michael: I don't remember.

Me: We'll did you just sit in a corner all day doing nothing?

Michael: No.

Me: Did you play with anyone?

Michael: Annie.

Me: What did you guys play?

Michael: I don't know.

Me: Did you take a nap?

Michael: Yes, but only a short one.

Me: Why, did someone wake you up?

Michael: I don't know.

Me: Did you have tumble tots?

Michael: Yes.

Me: What did you do.

Michael: I don't remember. I have a magic spell that makes me forget.

Me: Do you have a magic spell that makes you remember?

Michael: No.

Me: Sigh (look over Michael's head and say to Andy) This is like interviewing a hostile witness.

I've tried not asking him in hopes that he'll tell me anyway. I've tried waiting until bedtime to ask about his day. I've tried spacing the questions out. Nothing makes any difference. He just will not tell me about his day.

I guess I just need to get used to it, I can't imagine this will get any better as he gets older.

Michael Encounters the Easter Bunny

2011-04-20T09:23:00.003-04:00

We went to the mall on Friday night so that Andy and I could enjoy some Five Guys cheese burgers. Michael was a little tired, but I thought he was fine for the trip. I forgot that he insists upon having a soft pretzel for dinner when we visit that particular food court, so I didn't consider the hunger factor on top of the tired factor.

We survived the food court and we survived the Lego store. (My checking account took a hit though. I've got a serious Lego problem.)

Things started to go down hill on the way to the Apple store, but Michael perked up as soon as he picked up an iPad. It was actually the first time that I've handled one, and it was so nice. I quickly checked the pricing for them while Michael plucked it from my hands. While he absorbed himself in some apps, I realized that if I were to actually buy one, I'd only ever get to use it when Michael was sleeping. That's a huge drawback for such a pricey toy.

(Still, it was SWEET!)

When it was time to leave, Michael was not happy. He was getting so cranky that I decided to skip looking for Easter Ideas in William & Sonoma and head home.

On the way out of the mall, Michael spotted the Easter Bunny. Based on past experiences, we knew there was no way Michael would consider sitting on the Easter Bunny's lap, but he decided he wanted a picture. He said he was going to sit next to the Bunny. So, we walked over and watched some kids making it very difficult for the Photographer to get a picture of them. I pointed out the Easter Bunny.

Michael looked him/her/it over quickly and said, "That's just a guy in a costume."

Oops!

I assume that the proper etiquette when your child is shattering the Easter Bunny illusion in the presence of the Easter Bunny and other children is to get your kid out of there fast. That cute little 3 year old snuggled up next to the Easter Bunny really shouldn't be exposed to my analytical 4.9 year old's cynicism a week before Easter. So, we started to walk away. All of the sudden, the child who has been resisting Santa/Easter Bunny photos all along decided that he just had to have a picture with the Easter Bunny he had just outed as being a fake.

Nope. Not a chance. I'm not shelling out money so I can spend 15 minutes fighting with a tried, cranky kid who I know will refuse to go near that dude in the bunny costume. I'll take carrying a crying kid out of the mall over forcing a crying kid to be in a picture any day of the week.

Plus, I can used the money saved on Legos or and iPad!

Yanking the Rug

2011-04-14T10:45:00.002-04:00

Last week I got to write a wonderful post where I announced the good news about the results of my mom's cancer surgery. I waited until that post to give the bad news because I knew the good news, and it was an easy post to type.

Before then, I had drafted a number of posts in my mind that never made it to print. It's easy to say, hey my mom has cancer, but she's fine. It's not easy to say that my mom has cancer and I'm really worried about this and that. There were so many things that I was worried about, I just couldn't figure out how to put them all down.

After she got the results of her bone scan and chest x-rays, at least we knew the cancer hadn't spread. That was a huge relief. HUGE. However, I was still very concerned that she would need chemo. Surgery sucked and the idea of radiation isn't great either, but at least they are predictable and have limited side effects. Chemo, not so much. I was concerned about how sick Chemo would make my mom. How much extra care she would need. How would we get her to all of her appointments if she's not well enough to drive? My brother is already dealing with a health issue in his wife's family, how much more time can he miss? My sister just started a new job, how much time can she miss after just one month in? I've been rationing my time off for a few years now, and I don't have much to work with. How can we pull this off?

My next concern, after my mom's health and providing the care she needs, is that she still watches Michael part time. To quote her, "Michael is the purpose to my life." I have no problem putting Michael into daycare, but it really breaks my mom's heart to think that she'll have to give up the time she spends with them. Taking away her time with him is just adding insult to injury. Finding out that she didn't need chemo eliminated that concern.

Of course, I also had to worry about how Michael would handle the news. He looks forward to grandma days, and I cringed at the thought of telling him that grandma is sick and that he would need to go to school full time. Oh, and the follow on discussions that go along with that. Why is grandma sick? Why is grandma losing her hair? Is grandma going to die? I really didn't want to go there, and learning that my mom didn't need chemo also lifted that weight off my shoulders.

My mom's general practitioner has been receiving all of her tests and has been following her case through all of the reports he's been getting. He finally asked that she come in to see him after her surgery, so she saw him this past Monday. When he came out to greet her, he had a huge smile on his face and gave her a big hug. From the results of all of the tests, he actually told her that she was basically cured. When she relayed that to me, I cringed a little. Cured might be a strong word. She still has radiation and hormone therapy, and will continue to have frequent monitoring to make sure there has been no recurrence. But, yes, things look really great.

On Wednesday, my mom had her first appointment with the medical oncologist who would manage the hormone treatment and long term monitoring. She expected to get a prescription for the hormone therapy. Instead, when she got there the oncologist informed her that the initial results from the needle biopsy were not correct. The pathology on the tumor showed that her tumor was estrogen and progesterone negative and HER2 positive. Because this is a more aggressive type of cancer, the recommended treatment is chemo.

All of the concerns that went away after the results of the surgery came snapping back into reality. Chemo. Hair loss. Risk of infection. Nausea. How will we make this all work? What do I say to Michael? And, what if...

My understanding is that her prognosis is still very good. I'm very happy about this. I'm very grateful that she has these options and that they will give her such a good chance for a full recovery. But still...Chemo?

Reactions

2011-04-06T12:51:00.002-04:00

As I said in yesterday's post, the five weeks between learning that my mom had found a lump, and getting the results of the last test she needed was stressful. Very stressful. However, I held it together pretty well. One way I did that was to imagine organizing the world. As I sat through meetings, listened to the news, read the internet, you name it, I would start mentally fixing everything. "So and so isn't getting their work done? Let's take a look at the process and see what the obstacles are!" I figure it was my way of trying to find control during a time when I had none. Considering I'm already like that, ramping it up during stress is not surprising.

What I did find surprising was my reaction to the good news that the cancer had not spread to my mom's lymph nodes. My immediate reaction was, "YAY!" I quickly texted my sister to let her know the good news as well. Since it was Friday evening, I figured maybe we could celebrate in some way. But, instead of partying, once the initial news wore off, I crashed. Hard.

I spent the entire weekend in a really bad mood. I went for a run, but I couldn't muster the mental strength to make it up the big hill. I took Michael to a birthday party, and instead of enjoying talking with other parents, I was annoyed over petty little things that typically don't even hit my radar. I was too grumpy and tired to even consider doing my normal Sunday evening workout.

What the heck? This isn't how I'm supposed to feel!

Upon more consideration, I realized that the reason I was feeling that way was because I had just spent the last five weeks holding thing together for my mom, for Michael, for everyone that depends on me. I did what I needed to do, but it sucked. Once I finally knew where things stood, I could finally exhale and take care of myself.

So, that's what I did. I decided to let myself off the hook and sulked around a little. Screw exercise, screw smiling. I just needed a little time to feel some of the many feelings that I didn't have time to deal with while everything was going on. It was finally safe to do that, so I went with it.

Now, I'm working on getting back in the game mentally. I'm taking care of many of the small things that I let slide. When I went out to run on Monday, I decided to only do two miles and focus specifically on the hill that beat me. I don't feel like I'm completely back on my game, but I at least feel like I'm getting there.

Maybe this weekend I'll be up for a little more of a celebration than last weekend.

Good News!

2011-04-05T12:30:00.003-04:00

Yes, I have good news. It was negative!

Wait, maybe I should give you the bad news first so the good news makes sense.

Back at the end of February I called my mom to talk, but Michael was being difficult so I told her I was going to go. Normally, my telephone hating mother would be glad to get off the phone, but this time she told me to call her back once I got Michael to bed.

"Why, are you dying?" I asked sarcastically.

"Maybe."

Well, that joke fell a little flat.

When I called my mom back she informed me that she had found a lump in her breast and that she was scheduled for a diagnostic mammogram the next week.

I'm both a linear and a big picture thinker. In my career, having both of these skills are very helpful. It allows me to think of as many possible outcomes that can occur in a situation, and then find ways to mitigate obstacles that pop up to prevent the desired outcome. In my personal life, it means I churn over every possible outcome and then start planning for each one, even if some aren't that likely.

So, when my mom told me she had a lump in her breast, every possible scenario jumped into my mind, and I started planning actions for each and every one. The plus side? I was prepared. The negative side? I freaked myself out. Because you know, as soon as you hear the word lump, one possible outcome that pops right up is horrible, painful death from cancer. And that's just what my mind did. It would swing from, "it's a cyst" to "OMG" and everything in between.

To add to the fun, my mom asked me not to tell my brother or sister until she knew more. That's fun.

The process from learning that my mom had a lump and where she is now was tough. It's not just tough because it's scary. It's tough because there is so much waiting and guessing.

My mom went in for the mammogram and the radiologist informed her that the 1 inch lump looked like a carcinoma. She was referred to a surgeon. Without a biopsy, I was hesitant to give up hope that it might be a cyst, so in my mind, all possible options were still on the table.

My mom saw the surgeon. He told her it looked like a carcinoma, performed a needle biopsy, and sent her for a bunch of tests, including a chest x-ray and bone scan. Without results of the biopsy, I was hesitant to give up hope that it was a cyst. All options were still on the table, and I was trying to limit my thinking to the happy options.

Her doctor is awesome and really gets the urgency of getting results back to his patients as soon as possible. The night before my brother, sister and I were getting together for the annual boyscout pancake breakfast, my mom learned that she does, in fact have breast cancer.

That narrowed down the possible outcomes, but not really in the way I was hoping for. Taking the best option off the table sucked.

I volunteered to share the news with my brother and sister. You know, because I wasn't stressed out enough.

At this point, things were narrowed down to the best case scenario of localized breast cancer that would require lumpectomy, hormone treatment, and radiation. Worst case scenario..."STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!"

The next step was for my mom to get all her tests completed. That took about a week and then a few more days for all the results to make it to her doctor so he could devise a plan of action. That week and a half lasted for what felt like a year and involved many, "STOP THINKING ABOUT IT" moments. I tried to prepare myself for learning the worst while hoping for the best.

All of the tests came back negative. This was awesome news. The cancer had not spread to her chest wall or her bones. But, it still didn't rule out the cancer spreading to her lymph nodes and possible chemotherapy. So, while good news, we still didn't know everything we needed to know.

That allowed my mind to continue churning over things. Oh, and to keep things nice and complicated, don't forget that my mom watches Michael two times a week and that I'm out of sick time. When I suggested putting Michael into daycare full time, my mom's response was, "But Michael is the purpose in my life." Hey, no pressure there.

Last Thursday, my mom had a partial mastectomy and a sentinal node biopsy. When I picked her up from the hospital that night, she told me she'd get the results this Wednesday. Almost another full week of waiting, for a combined total of about 5 weeks of worry and stress. The hurry up and wait thing was driving us all crazy.

The surgery was an amazing success. The doctor was able to remove all of the cancerous tissue and achieve clear margins. He did an awesome job and managed to preserve my mom's shape really well. I don't even think she'll need to buy a new bathing suit to cover any scar tissue! And best of all, my mom had nothing more than I little tenderness at the site of the surgery (because I swear she is a mutant and does not sense pain like the rest of us.) She was up and getting around like normal the very next day. AWESOME!

So, all that was left was to find out the result of the lymph node biopsy. Negative would mean hormone therapy and radiation. Positive would mean chemo, hormone therapy, and radiation and a higher likelihood of recurrence. (I cringe even typing the words.)

On Friday, my mom forgot that the doctor had said to call to make an appointment on Wednesday. She had it in her mind that she needed to go back in 48 hours to get the dressing changed, so she called his office and had them track the doctor down. He called her right back to explain what she needed to do, and he also happened to have gotten the results back from pathology. Her lymph nodes were negative! She shared the news with me that evening when I called to double (or quadruple) check on her.

I was so thrilled to her the news. I was so thrilled to not have to wait until the following Wednesday. This was the best case scenario, and I'm so relieved for my mom.

Right now, my mom is doing great. She is feeling so good that she opted to take Michael today and they headed out to Bounce Town a little while ago. I just wish that Michael could understand just how special this time he has with his grandma is, and that he is so lucky to have her.

Did I Really Just Say That?

2011-03-29T14:40:00.002-04:00

Now that everyone is on the mend and catching up on sleep, we are all in a much better mood. Last night, after picking up Michael's new bike, we all relaxed and ended up having a major tickle wrestle battle. There was much giggling and a few wedgies were given. The perfect night in my little world.

After we were done, Andy left the room to exercise and Michael and I continued to chat. I don't remember what we were talking about, but Michael made a comment about when he's 92. Before I knew what was happening, I heard these words coming out of my mouth. "When you are 92, I'll be dust."

What!...where did that come from and why on earth did I say it?

Needless to say, Michael found them to be upsetting.

"But mommy, you'll still be real, right?" Which is his way of asking if I'll still be alive.

Crap, crap, crap. Do I lie and comfort him? Do I distract and try to avoid the topic? I was completely cornered knowing that I couldn't do either. So, Michael and I had a little discussion about how people die when they get older while he cried and clung to me. It was both sweet and sad and I feel like a complete ass for slipping to begin with.

As a mom, I want so badly to protect him from everything. I don't want him to worry that someone he loves might die. But, the reality is that one of these days he won't just have to learn about the idea of people dying, he'll have to face it as a reality. And there is nothing in this world that I can do to protect him from that. The best I can do is prepare him with knowledge and make sure he knows that I'm always there if he needs me.

I assure you, the mama bear in me does not like this at all. Not one little bit.

Letters I Wanted to Compose this Weekend

2011-03-28T13:53:00.002-04:00

This weekend was very cold and we were all still cranky from a week with the stomach bug. Nothing major to report on as the most exciting thing we did over the weekend was buy Michael a new bike that won't be ready for pickup until this evening.

I was, however, tempted to write several letters over the weekend.

Dear man at the car wash,

Is it really necessary to keep your radio blaring while you vacuum your car out only three feet away from my car?

Signed,
Annoyed

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Dear Wawa,

Thank you so much for including bathrooms in all of your new stores. And, for keeping them clean. And, for putting them in the same general location in each store. This is very helpful when you are rushing a whining kid who is holding his butt to a stall as quickly as possible.

Signed,
Grateful

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Dear Home Owner's Association,

That tree fell down a month ago. You need to call the landscaping business and get it removed. Now! Before it kills the grass. That's what we are paying you for, so do it. Damn it.

Signed,
Pissed

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Dear Plants Vs. Zombies,

Please, please, please come out with a sequel.

Signed,
A mother who can finally make dinner without interruptions

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Dear people in the produce section of the grocery store,

I'm sorry about the scene, but would you have rather me to have given in? I know it was loud, but it was a teachable moment that will pay dividends in the long term.

Signed,
I'll mind my business, you mind yours

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Dear anyone who markets anything to kids,

You suck!

Signed,
Why did I just eat that Kit Kat?

A Good Idea Gone Bad

2011-03-24T13:12:00.003-04:00

Last Friday we had beautiful spring weather. As everyone in the neighborhood got home, we all headed outside with our kids and spent some time catching up while the kids played. After a very cold and wet winter is was more than welcome.

On Saturday morning, I decided that I was going to take Michael for a walk in the park while Andy got his workout in. It wasn't as warm out, but I figured it's the day before spring, so we put on some hoodies and headed out. Now, being the smart woman I am, I realized that Michael was going to get distracted and drag his feet on the walk, so I turned it into a scavenger hunt. I wrote out a list of ten things which I knew we could find in the park. I included things that we would find at different points on the two mile walk so that he would stay interested and want to rush ahead searching.

It was a great idea. A brilliant idea, if I may say so myself.

Well, it was a good idea until we actually got to the park. It turns out that you cannot wish it to be spring. It was 52 degrees, overcast, and windy. The hoodies were not warm enough. I decided that if we kept moving, we would stay warm, and since we were on a scavenger hunt, that would be no problem.

Except for the fact that Michael wasn't motivated by the scavenger hunt. Actually, that's not true. Michael was motivated by the hunt, he just wasn't as motivated by it as he was motivated by the desire to slow us down. I don't know how he does it, but he always manages to figure out what my true goal is, and then manages to figure out the perfect way to thwart it. So, instead of a quick paced, exciting scavenger hunt, Michael was dawdling. And we were both getting colder by the minute.

There was only one thing left to do. I stooped down, "OK Michael, climb on up." Then, I carried him on my back. Not for the entire walk, but for most of it. We collected all but one of the items on our list. (There were no geese to be found. They are like cockroaches around where I live and they flock to the park by the hundreds all winter long, but the one time I want them there, nothing.) We stayed warm. I even got a great workout. But, it was not the walk in the park I expected. When we got home Michael even told Andy, "Mommy had a bad idea."

Thanks kid.

There was, however, one moment of the entire ordeal that made it worth the effort.

As we were coming around the loop to the 1 mile mark, we encountered a couple out for a walk with their two small children. Each parent was pushing a stroller and the woman was clearly annoyed with how slowly her husband was walking. She kept snapping at him telling him to go faster. He kept laughing at her telling her he was going his own pace. As they were bickering, I picked up my pace to get past them. As I blew by them I hear the woman, completely exasperated, say, "Look, you're being lapped by that mom AND SHE'S CARRYING HER SON ON HER BACK!"

Damn straight! All forty pounds of him. Bitches.

Michael, in a Nutshell

2011-03-18T10:39:00.002-04:00

It's finally warming up enough to allow for the neighborhood kids to play outside in the evenings. Last night, we played with M and her baby brother. One of the more common things the kids do is to trace each others outlines on the road and then color them in. (And yes, before they color them in, they do look like chalk outlines of murder victims.)

We outlined M first. She laid down and spread her arms and legs to make it easy for us. Then, we gave her ballet slippers, a tutu, and pink hair. It was adorable.

Next up was me. I laid down, spread my arms and legs out, and they traced me. I got multicolored striped pants and a clover on my shirt for St. Patty's day. The orange fro was not so charming, but overall, pretty cute.

Finally, it was Michael's turn. He laid down and started twisting his arms and legs into weird positions. I asked him what he was doing.

His reply, "Making things more complicated."

And that, is Michael. At least he owns up to it.

Monday Randomness

2011-03-07T13:29:00.004-05:00

Hey, check it out, I'm really on the ball this week. I've already managed to become too incoherent to pull together a full blog post and it's only Monday! Someone should probably warn my boss that my normal Friday punchiness may start early this week.

So let's see, what's going on:

I stepped outside to take the trash out and noticed that one of the 30 foot pines in the back had blown over. The crazy weather over the past 1.5 years has really taken a toll on our community's landscaping. What's strange is that the pine that went over looked healthy, but the one next to it looks like it's about to croak. Didn't see that coming.
We are registering Michael for Kindergarten this week. I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around it. Not so much his age, as the logistics of the whole thing. The hours are not conducive to any work schedule. We were hoping to be able to work something with J's parents because they work later shifts than we do, but none of us start that late.
I did another 5+ mile run this weekend. Let's just say moving from 3 to 4 miles was much, much easier than going from 4 to 5 miles. I'm a little concerned about working up to 6+ miles by June.
When I got home from work on Friday I discovered that we had several clusters of crocuses in bloom. Granted, not the most impressive flowers out there, but so welcome after the five gazillion snow storms we had this year.
We had friends over for dinner last night. They brought their two year old son, who is adorable. However, seeing Michael towering over him made me realize just how much he has grown up over the past few years. It's bittersweet, that's for sure.

Soft Touch

2011-03-02T14:08:00.002-05:00

I'm a soft touch, or at least that's what my dad always calls me. He watches me with Michael and sees how quickly I am to respond to Michael's tears. I don't think my dad is necessarily saying it as a compliment, but since I get it from him, I take it that way.

I'm pretty sure that I do cater to Michael's needs a little too much. I try not to hover because Michael does need to learn to make his way in the world, but I want him to know that I am there if he needs me. I mean, he is only 4.75. It's a hard balance to find, and if I err on the side of hovering, well, I'm a mom, what can I say?

I've mentioned before that both Andy and I go to work very early every day. So early that we actually had to switch out schedules to a later start time when Michael started daycare because they don't open until 6:30. (Slackers) I've got it timed so that we dance to the last song of Wow Wow Wubzy, then head out the door. We normally get to school by about 6:35. Typically, Michael is the first or second child to arrive in the morning. When we get there, we take his stuff to his room, then come down to the 2 year old room where all the children go until their teachers get there. I always take some kind of dry breakfast for him and place it on the table in case he gets hungry.

This morning there were already five children in the room when we got there. Michael was very hesitant when he entered the room and saw all of them. He seemed very uncomfortable with the change in routine. Trying to keep things normal, I placed his pop tart on the table for him. However, there was a child sitting in his normal spot, so I had to put the pop tart at another spot. I walked back to him, hugged him and tried to leave. He hugged me and wouldn't let me go. It tried extracting myself a few times, but he wouldn't let go.

I asked him what was wrong, and he asked me to take his pop tart back up to his lunch box. I explained that he should have it downstairs in case he gets hungry. (In other words, I didn't feel like walking all the way back up to his classroom.) Nope, didn't work. He started begging. I finally realized that he was afraid that one of the other kids was going to eat his pop tart.

This is where I wonder what to do. Do I just leave and let him deal with it? Part of me thinks I should. He needs to learn how to handle this stuff on his own. Kindergarten isn't that far away. The other part of me can feel his distress and it just seems wrong to me to leave him to deal with it when I can help him so easily.

So, I proposed a compromise. I suggested that he give the pop tart to his teacher and have her take care of it for him. He seemed satisfied with this approach, and was able to see me off once his pop tart was safe and secure.

As a mom, I'm going to have to find this balance thousands of times on Michael's journey through childhood. I just hope that most of the time, I make the best decision.

As for the pop tart? I'd say there is a greater than 50% chance that after worrying about it so much he never even ate it. Because that's how we roll. Worrying about nothing.

I'm Hungry

2011-03-01T11:42:00.003-05:00

One of the biggest mysteries I've wondered about in raising Michael is how can such a tall kid survive on so little food? For those of you with kids that don't eat, you know what I mean. It just doesn't seem possible for a child to be able to survive on several cups of milk and three bites of a piece of bread with butter a day. Not only has Michael proven that he can survive on that, he even grows. Like a weed. Clearly, what he's been eating is enough, but I don't know how it's possible.

Last week, I watched my neighbor's 14 month old accost her for a package of lunch meat and once he got it away from her, he started shoving the meat into his mouth as fast as he could. I watched him eat more food in 10 minutes than Michael would eat in a day when he was that age. I'm not even exaggerating. Amazingly, he's still a tiny little thing. I'm pretty sure Michael was several inches teller at that age.

So imagine my surprise a few weeks ago when Michael actually started saying, "I'm hungry." It's something he says so rarely that I stopped dead in my tracks and asked him to repeat himself. "I'm hungry."

I jumped on that pretty quickly. He downed an entire PB&J (without the crust). Wow! Another night we got take out and he actually asked for chicken fingers for dinner. That was the night that he not only ate some chicken fingers, but he mooched my pizza! He has also downed two bowls of mac 'n cheese in one sitting as well.

It's nice to see him finally starting to eat. He's even branching out and trying noodles that come in different shapes and chicken that is cooked in different ways. Still no luck with veggies, but he's also taken to mooching fruit, so it's not all bad.

Not only do I find this new found desire for food confusing, I think he does as well. Before I made dinner last night I asked him if he was hungry. He gave his normal, "NO!" in response, so I didn't make him anything. After making a quick pot of chili, I called Andy in for dinner. I heard Michael put down his game and watched as he sulked his way into the dinner table. He begrudgingly climbed into his chair and stated that he didn't want to sit there. Since I hadn't cooked dinner for him, Andy and I both told him he didn't need to stay if he didn't want to. Hell, we couldn't even figure out why he had come in to the room in the first place.

So, with tears in his eyes he informed me, "I want Mac n' Cheese!" Turns out, he was hungry. I just don't think he was very happy about it. I mean, how dare his tummy make him get up and sit at the table like the rest of the family. This hunger thing seems to be interfering with his goal to never eat voluntarily. I can't say I'm upset either. I'm glad his own hunger is finally winning the battle for me, because frankly, I was out of ideas.

And Chaos Ensued...

2011-02-28T12:30:00.002-05:00

Dude, last week was crazy. That's the only way I can sum up why I didn't blog last week. I even had some things to post about too, I think. It's hard to say, it feels like last week was about a month ago.

The biggest thing that happened last week was my work computer crashed. I've been having trouble for a few weeks, but nothing that a reboot couldn't fix, so it wasn't that surprising when I got the pin-stripe screen of death on Monday morning. Yes, I know it's supposed to be the blue screen of death, but I guess this was just a warning of how bad my laptop was hosed. I don't even think they ever figured out what was wrong with it, but after replacing the hard drive once, and the system board twice, they managed to get me back up and somewhat running. That took two days, and then it took the rest of the week to try and catch up with my work while also fixing all the little things that were not working on the computer. Of course, this all happened when a very high level executive manager was visiting, just to add to the fun.

Let's just say that I was completely and utterly exhausted and frustrated by the end of the week. If I had found time to blog, it would have read something like this, "Blurp snaggle ploop bop gorp." (Yeah, sort of like my tweets, but with fewer typos.)

Thanks goodness that after such a crazy week we were given a rare February treat. Warmish weather! it was 45 on Saturday and 55 on Sunday. I know, not shorts weather or anything, but warm enough to spend some time outside. We hit the arboretum on Saturday and I went for a run on Sunday followed by a trip to the playground with Michael. I may have overdone it a little, by 7:00 last night I was ready to collapse into bed, but the physical exhaustion of playing outside still feels so much better than the mental exhaustion of last week.

I really wasn't ready to come back into work today, but such is life. So far, things have been calmer than last week, but there are still 4.5 days left for that to change.

Randomness

2011-02-17T13:29:00.003-05:00

Yes, once again it is time for my brain to spew out some mostly unrelated bullet points about my life as a mom. It's been a crazy week and then my computer crashed yesterday, so this is a day later than I expected it to be. In other words, it's just standard operating procedure.

Last night we had the news on and they said, "In the line of duty." Michael giggled and said, "They said doody, like poop." When did he turn into Bevis, from Bevis and Butthead? I rolled my eyes. Andy grinned with pride.
It finally got up into the 40's yesterday, and with the longer days I was able to get out an run in the park. It felt great. Except for the part where I had to run through a huge stream of runoff snow melt. That part was cold.
Over the past month, Michael has really gotten into video games in a big way. Between the laptop and the iPhone he would spend hours everyday playing if we let him. At one point last night, Andy asked Michael how to complete a level of Sunday Lawn. I knew he'd get better than us at things at some point in his life, but I didn't think it would happen at 4.75.
While I'm not thrilled with the time Michael wants to spend playing video games, I will admit that it is a nice little break from the past 4.75 years of him needing me to pay attention to him ALL. THE. TIME. He actually let me spend half an hour doing cross stitch the other morning and it was wonderful.
For Valentine's day, Andy took Michael out and let him buy a Beta fish. Andy is helping Michael learn how to take care of the cute little fish. It just warms my heart to see my two men doing things together like that.
The little fishie's name cracks me up. I'm sure the old farts in the crowd remember when Beta fish were called Siamese Fighting Fish, so based off the fact that it's a fighting fish, they decided to name the fish Foo. So, it's a Foo fighting fish.
Personally, I would have preferred a cat, but I didn't get a vote.
And, on a final note, Michael has finally started eating. I guess when he hit 40 pounds, his body decided that it actually needed some kind of fuel to keep it going. It's rather shocking to see after the past 4 years of a nibble here and a nibble there. Mostly I find this to be a good thing, except that he mooched a piece of pizza from me on Saturday. I'm not sure I really want to share me pizza.
I'll guess we'll just have order more pizza, now won't we?

Buddy

2011-02-15T13:27:00.002-05:00

I was on a teleconference today and one of the participants goes by the name of Buddy. It reminded me of a boy I went to school with who went by Buddy as well. The name always drove me crazy. Really, who names their son "buddy"? A buddy is a friend, or a pal. It's not a name. And even worse, people shorten it to "bud". I was always of the opinion that "bud" was only suitable for rose bushes and that kid on the Cosby show who wasn't even named "bud".

Part way through high school, I actually had a class with Buddy. On the first day, during roll call I learned that "Buddy" wasn't even his real name. It was his nickname. I was all, DUDE YOU CHOOSE TO GO BY BUDDY? I'm sure that there was a lot of eye rolling involved considering I was 16 at the time. I can't even guess how many times, over about 20 years, I snickered over the name Buddy.

Then, a few years ago, something happened. Michael was just a toddler back then, and my mom started calling him "bunny". Bunny? Really? But, over time it stuck and I found myself calling Michael bunny. I was never very comfortable with it though. It's a little too cutesy for me. I don't now exactly when the switch happened, but one day I realized that I was calling Michael "buddy".

Michael has had a lot of pet names since he was born. They ranged from "Smunchy baby" to the "wee beastie" to "little stinker", but of all of them, the one that has stuck is "Buddy." Even worse than that, we have been calling him that for so long now that we often shorten it to "Bud".

In other words, I ended up calling my son the exact thing I used to laugh at when I was a teenager. But, it just works for him. He's my little buddy. I totally get where his mom was coming from, and I promise to never laugh about the name Buddy again.

Although, I'm still a little ticked that Buddy used to try and cheat off of me during vocab tests...

What the Heck Was That?

2011-02-08T13:38:00.002-05:00

Andy had Tai Chi last night. He left the house right before I put Michael to bed. That meant that once Michael was asleep, I had the house to myself. You know, those rare moments when you can plug in the iPod ear phones and do whatever the hell you want. Precious moments in the life of a mom.

As I was relaxing and listening to music, I noticed a "thump, thump" sound coming from somewhere. We live in a town home, and it's not uncommon to hear some thumping from our neighbors, but I was pretty certain that neither of them were home. I got up and wondered to the front of the house to double check. Sure enough, no one home.

THUMP! THUMP! BANG!

I was a little freaked out, so I took my headphones off and tried to figure out where the sound was coming from. I was wondering if I'd need to call 911 when I heard the thumping again. It was coming from the back of the house.

That's when I remembered that the last time I put trash out, I wasn't able to find the clamp that we use to secure the lid. The heavy duty clamp that we had to invest in specifically to keep a certain furry masked bandit out of our trash.

I walked back to the living room and peeked out the back door to see what was going on. Sure enough, there was the furry beast trying to flip the lid of our trashcan. I banged on the glass hoping to scare him away.

The dude didn't budge.

So, I opened the storm door a little and yelled at him.

Oh, the look that critter gave me. He even hesitated before slinking off the trashcan and disappearing behind the deck. That raccoon is not afraid of people.

I returned to my seat and plugged my headphones back in.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

Son of a...He was back. He didn't even wait a full minute before climbing his furry little ass back up to my trashcan. I swear, if I listened hard enough, I probably could have heard him going "Pffft" in the background.

How dare that fluffy trash picker blow off my threat? Now it's personal.

Now, if I were a red neck, I'd go and get my gun and show the raccoon the error of his ways. But I'm not. I'm a peace loving, hippy type who really loves nature and animals. But, this isn't a Beatrix Potter book folks, it's my back yard and I don't want trash strewn all over it. Nor do I want to encourage wild animals to come within inches of my house. Especially ones that appear to be brazen enough to let a 4 year old walk up and pet it.

I looked around the living room trying to figure out what to do to scare him off. There wereNerf guns and Nerf darts all over the floor. I asked myself if it would be horrible to shoot a Nerf dart at a raccoon. Hmm...I shoot them at Michael all the time.* It can't be that bad.

I loaded the gun with the dart, cocked the trigger, opened the door and shot the raccoon point blank.

He barely even flinched. I shot a raccoon with a Nerf gun and the fuzzy bastard just looked at me like I was a fly buzzing around it's head. How dare I interfere with his dinner!

I picked up our snow shovel and started smacking the trashcan with it. Take that, furball!

Ah, OK. Now I can finally sit down and relax. I put my feet up, plugged my headphones in, and...

THUMP! THUMP! BANG!

OMG! I jumped up. I was really mad at this point. What kind of crazy critter is this that isn't even afraid of a crazy human bashing at it with a snow shovel? I looked around the living room trying to find something else in my arsenal. As I was listening to the persistent little looter, I scanned the floor for the perfect weapon. My eyes settled on a pink balloon that Michael abandoned after letting it fly around the room.

I picked it up, filled it with water, tied it tight, and then opened the door. The raccoon barley even looked at me. So, I tossed the balloon right onto it. SPLASH!

That got him moving. He high-tailed his soggy ass out of there, and once I was sure he was gone, I went out and retrieved the clamp and secured the lid. Take that!

And so, our trash was safe for another night. But don't think I don't know that he'll be back the next time I forget the clamp. He really didn't seem to be the kind of critter that would give up on a meal out of fear for a wet coat.

*I make Michael wear protective goggles when we play Nerf Darts. My mom actually asked me if I provided the raccoon with eye protection. Um, no. He already has a mask on.

That's Not the Slide I was Expecting

2011-02-07T12:16:00.002-05:00

A little less than a year ago, Andy bought a Concept 2 rower. It's one of the odder pieces of work out equipment that I've ever seen, but it's a great workout. In addition to cardio, it gives you one of the most complete resistance workouts of any of the cardio devices. And, it's really low impact.

Last fall, Andy decided to really get his money's worth out of it, and started training on it pretty hard. (Plus, I tend to hog the elliptical if I can.) Since then, he has rowed a half marathon and has racked up some pretty impressive meters. He also decided to compete in the Mainline Slide, which was held at Villanova this past weekend. (They call it a slide because of the sliding motion of the rower's seat.)

Andy's weight class was the first competition on Saturday morning, so we had to get up early to head down. It's normally a 20 minutes ride, but in keeping with this crazy winter, we woke up to discover freezing drizzle and a layer of ice. Under normal circumstances, I'd see ice and call the whole thing off, but with everything this winter has thrown at us, we just slid out to the car and were on our way. The roads were fine, but once we got there, we had to slide into the field house for the competition. Yes, we slid to the Slide.

Andy did a great job in his competition. While he may have come in 3rd of three, but he had his best time ever. This was also his first competitive sports competition (not including high school sports) so the entire experience was new for him. Personally, I think it takes a lot of guts to give something new like that a try, especially when he's only been doing it for a short time. I was really proud of not only his new time, but that he gave the entire thing a go.

My biggest concern during the competition had nothing to do with Andy, who I knew would be fine, and everything to do with Michael. Keeping a not quite 5 year old busy for several hours is not always easy. But, I found that the Slide had a very similar atmosphere as the 5K last year. Everyone was very friendly and no one seemed to mind a wiggly kid in the bleachers. I let him run up and down the bleachers when we first got there, and that seemed to satisfy his need to roam. After that, he willingly hung out with me as we cheered Andy on. The only comments Michael got were several warm greetings as people passed by.

All in all, it was a great experience. Andy did a great job and set a new personal record. Michael behaved well and had some fun. I really enjoyed watching the races and could have stayed through the morning watching as people of all ages, shapes and sizes gave it their all.

And best of all, when we were done, we headed to IHOP for brunch.

Now that's my idea of a morning well spent.

40-1

2011-02-04T12:36:00.003-05:00

Yep, It's my birthday today and I am 39. Someone asked me if I feel any different today than I did yesterday. Nope, I feel just as old today as I felt yesterday.

So, what's with the 40-1? Well, that's my way of dealing with the impending big 40. I don't want it to sneak up on me next year and take me by surprise, so last year I decided to think of my age in terms of "40" to desensitize myself to it. So far, I think it's working, but I won't really know for another year. I'll be sure to update you all about how successful it is.

I know that I'm older than most of ya'll. I've been the oldest at both of the May Mommy get togethers. Since I'm the senior member of the group, I think it's my duty to blaze my way into aging in a graceful manner and to share all of my wonderful secrets on handling the challenges of being "older than dirt". For this reason, I have decided that I will periodically impart some of the wisdom I have gained in my advanced years so that you too can enter your later years with grace and dignity. Here are a few tips that I've picked up in my 39 years.

When a doctor starts a diagnosis with, "As we age," it is best to refrain from telling him to stuff it.
If you have ever been judgmental about women who have cosmetic procedures to improve their looks, you will likely feel guilty as you stand in front of the mirror pulling your skin back trying to see what you would look like with a face lift.
Your knees normally feel like they are at least ten years older than the rest of your body.
Getting zits at the same time that you are trying to treat very dry skin means you are getting much closer to menopause than puberty, and the two are fighting for rights to your skin.
Those crazy eyebrow hairs that you see on old men are not exclusive to old men.
And finally, mom jeans were designed that way for a reason.

Anyway, Happy Birthday to me!

Now, get off my damn lawn.

Absolutely the Most Horrible Winter Ever!!!!

2011-02-02T12:16:00.003-05:00

I'm not typically prone to histrionics*, but I have to say that this winter has been the worst winter ever. In fact, it's so bad I'm going to have to go all caps on you.

WORST. WINTER. EVER!!!1!!

Have I made myself perfectly clear?

Yes, I know I lived on the coast of Maine for four years. One year it snowed every day for a month. But it was Maine. It's supposed to snow in Maine. Plus, Mainers know how to handle snow every day, so it really wasn't a big deal. I'd go out in the morning, clear the windows of my car, go to school, clear the windows of my car, drive to the store, clear the windows of my car, drive home. No biggy. In fact, the biggest problem all that snow caused me was my only ever C in a class. It was just so much more interesting to watch the snow falling than to listen to the teacher, that I kind of spaced out.

Hmm...maybe that wasn't the snow's fault.

Any way, my point was that I've lived through four years of Maine winter and therefore I must be an expert on winter weather. Based on this expertise, I'm officially declaring this the worst winter ever. Granted, last year we got record snow fall amounts, but it happened in just a few big storms and it was pretty fun to play in. This year, it's just storm after storm after storm. Nothing that is bad enough to close my office, but they sure do seem to be stacking up the late daycare openings.

Aside from all of the missed work and long, treacherous drives I've made, it's not even pretty outside. Last year, the storms were followed by those beautiful, crisp blue skies that made the snow sparkle in the sun. This year, we end up with dirty, wet, ice covered snow and muggy skies. I'm actually trying to decide if the thick fog that followed last night's ice storm is more depressing than the clouds; or a treat because it's hiding some of the soggy, wet mess that seems to go on forever.

Either way, I'm really done with this winter and I'm so ready for some warm, sunny days. Do I think I'll get them? No. There are two more "wintery mix" storms in the ten day forecast, and I'm sure they will bring even more sloppy mess to the area. So, Mother Nature, you can suck it.

*Please disregard any comment Andy makes that contradicts my claim that I'm not prone to histrionics. Even if he makes a good argument. Or, if he provides evidence. I swear, he's lying.**

**Or not.

Bridget

2011-02-01T12:34:00.002-05:00

I cannot think of a better way to use my 500th post than to send all of my best wishes to Bridget. She's an amazing woman, mother, and friend and today she is having brain surgery. She's a tough cookie, but any thoughts or prayers you can send her way will certainly be welcome.

Get well soon!

Show Me the Mommy

2011-01-28T10:58:00.003-05:00

Well, if you have been reading my blog for any length of time, you've probably noticed that I have trouble getting with the program. It doesn't matter what the program is, I never pull it off. Blog-versaries? Um...oops. Celebrating blog milestones? Yeah, not so much. Making sure I brush Michael's hair before school? Wait, you don't know about that problem yet. Trust me, it's a problem.

So, as much as I love the show me the mommy posts and look forward to them every week, I routinely fail to get a picture of myself each week. This week was a little different. Michael was playing with my iPhone and decided to take some pictures. He took about 50 of himself, and if you scroll through them really quickly, it's like a film of him opening and closing his mouth. It's so lame that even I don't want to look at them.

He also took some pictures of me. I hammed it up with silly faces for him and decided that I'd use one for Show Me the mommy.

Then, I looked at them. They are somewhat lacking. No, they are really lacking. In fact, they are so bad, I refuse to post them. Instead, I scrolled back a little further until I found one I was willing to post. Here you go!

Bouncing Baby Boy

2011-01-26T08:20:00.004-05:00

Having a son leads to many experiences that I never expected to have, and to be honest, I don't always understand. The feminist in me wants to reject the idea that boys and girls are different and that most of the behavioral differences we see are the product of our cultural influences. Then, Michael tries to wiggle his naked hiney in my face and I wonder if boys are just naturally gross. Maybe girls are naturally gross too, but I don't have a daughter, so I don't know about it.

On Saturday morning, while I was eating my cereal and watching TV, Michael climbed up next to me and tried to place something onto my head. The next thing I know, an entire stack of Lego Ninjago cards plopped smack into my cereal. As I was wiping each card down and lying them out to dry, I wondered just what was going through Michael's mind when he decided that he simply had to put those cards on top of my head. I also couldn't help but reflect on the fact that I never expected to use the knowledge I gained during my college senior thesis on the conservation and preservation of library materials to help preserve the pristine condition of a bunch Nija fighting cards.

That was the only time over the weekend that I got to experience the strange nature of boys. At one point I came into the living room to discover Andy and Michael having a Nerf sword fight. Andy had gotten creative and had jury rigged shields for each of them to use. Andy had a lap desk strapped to his arm, which served as a suitable replacement for a shield. Michael, on the other hand, had a very strange shield. Andy had taken Michael's bumble bee Pillow Pet and tied it to Michael's arm with a scarf. As a mom, sword fights don't come to mind when I think of play. Clearly, based on the well thought out bumble bee shield, it is something that dad's give more than a moments thought to.

I love the different perspective I get from living in an all male house hold. I never expected to find myself petting a dinosaur at 6:00 am in the morning, but I like it. Sure, things can get a little rough from time to time, but overall, having a son is awesome. Do I sometimes miss out on dressing up like princesses and playing Barbies? Not really. But, if I insist upon matching Michael's camo pants with Diego underwear and his Spiderman shirt Marvel underwear, I'm sure you can understand why.

Randomness!

2011-01-19T14:27:00.003-05:00

It's Wednesday and I'm discombobulated, so lets dive right in.

I love the word "discombobulated".
I also love the word "epiphany" but it's a lot harder to work into a randomness post.
As we were leaving daycare the other day, the director heard Michael ask if we could play bop the balloon when we got home. She laughed and commented that the kids really need to get outside.
Having played a good bit of bop the balloon this week, I have to agree with her.
Due to winter weather, I've had to come in to work late twice in the last two weeks. I now have three hours of sick time left.
It's very tempting to be sick for three hours and I'd consider it except it's supposed to snow on Thursday night. I am not happy about this.
If I was mother nature, my new rule would be put up or shut up. If it's going to snow, it needs enough for my company to shut down. Otherwise, no snow.
Or ice.
Or Fog.
In fact, let's just have one big snow storm every year and then the rest of the time it's sunny and 75 degrees. I think we can all agree that that would be nice.
What, nature isn't a democracy? That's a shame. I'm pretty sure my platform would get me the win.
One of the big drawbacks to these late starts (other than burning up my time off) is that now Michael thinks that I can choose to go into work late and we can stay home and play games instead. Umm...nope.
Even if we could, I'd probably pick work over bop the balloon.
At this point, I'd probably rather go to the dentist than play bop the balloon.
Hmm...maybe Michael isn't the only one with cabin fever, what do you think?

Brain Failure

2011-01-17T14:02:00.003-05:00

My brain doesn't always work that well, and as I'm getting older and busier, it seems to be occurring more often than I'd like to admit.

In this case, it has to do with the eye strain that I've been dealing with for several months. At my eye appointment a few weeks ago, I learned that my glasses were a bad prescription and the the adjustment for my astigmatism was off. As a result, my eyes often hurt by the end of the day.

Due to weather, I wasn't able to get to the glasses store right away. Every extra day with sore eyes really seemed unnecessary, so a finally managed to get some time and went in and picked out new lenses. At which point I learned that it would take 10 days to get the glasses made.

10 days! 10 days! That's 10 days of unnecessary pain. There was nothing I could do about it. Best just to suck it up and deal with it. 10 days isn't that long.

A few days later, as I was looking for some make-up in the big bin under the sink where I keep all my castaways, I started pulling out old glasses cases. Five in total. Each one housed a pair of glasses that I used to wear without any eye pain. One pair has a lens that pops out. One pair has a scratch on the right lens. One pair is ugly as sin. None of them are the ideal pair of glasses, but none of them hurt my eyes to wear. So, I tried them all on and decided to go with the ones with the scratch.

What do you know, after several days of wearing them, I'm dealing with much less eye pain. Awesome!

The only thing that would have been more awesome would have been if this had occurred to me when I learned about the prescription problem of with the current glasses. I could have saved myself two weeks of pain.

Let's just file this one under D'oh!

Curse You Snow!

2011-01-12T13:37:00.002-05:00

Nothing in life brings out my conflicting adult vs. child internal battle like snow does.

I love snow. I mean, I love it. The joy starts when I see the word snow pop up on the weather forecast, and doesn't end until the snow melts to that mostly grass and brown plowed snow stage.

I hate snow. It drives me crazy. The anxiety starts when I see the word snow pop up on the weather forecast, and it doesn't end until the streets are clear.

This internal battle results in me obsessively checking my weather app every hour hoping that the forecast will change. Every time I check, I hope that they are lowering the forecast amount so I can get to work. If it is lowered, I'm disappointed because I want lots and lots of snow. If it's not lowered, then I worry about that dwindling sick/vacation time balance I'm trying to manage. I really, really want a foot of snow that doesn't land on the roads.

The storm that blew through last night gave us about 3.5 inches. That's enough to cause a late start for schools, but not enough for my office to even bother with the special, "the office is open" message because we all know the company doesn't close for 3.5 inches of snow.

That means that I was supposed to be at work at 7:00 am, but Michael's daycare didn't open until 10:30. What to do, what to do? Take the hit to my vacation time and stay home with Michael. I'm sure we could have gotten in a good hour or more in the snow. Or, call my mom and see if she could take Michael at some point before 10:30 so I could try and save a few vacation hours.

When we got up at 6:00, I was leaning towards staying home. Michael loves playing in the snow, and there was enough outside for sledding.

At 6:16, Michael started talking. And talking. And talking. And OMG DID YOU DRINK SOME OF MY COFFEE?

By 7:00 I had made my decision. Turns out that it's really nice and quiet in my office on snowy days.

Move It 2011

2011-01-11T13:07:00.004-05:00

Last week in my "I don't do resolutions" post, I mentioned that I do set fitness goals for myself. I spent a good deal of time thinking about my goals for this year, and this is what I came up with.

1. I'm competing in the Move It 2011 Challenge. Last year I participated in the 500 in 2010 challenge, and it was a great experience for me. It really drove me to get my miles in each week, and I hit the target in September (even with all the miles I lost due to the poor tracking on our old elliptical.) The problem with the challenge was something that anyone with project management is familiar with; you get what you measure. I measured miles, therefore I maximized my workout time to get miles in. To the exclusion of any resistance training.

The thing is, I need to do resistance training. So as soon as I hit 500 miles last year, I stopped tracking miles and started doing some ab work. This is the direction that I want to got this year, so I decided that I will not track miles this year. Instead, I'm going to track exercise minutes. The Move It 2011 time goal is 125 hours of exercise. That will not challenge me to the extent I want, so my modified goal is 175 hours. That equals 3.4 hours of exercise a week for 50 weeks. I think this is realistic, but will require diligence to hit.

2. Goal two is to run a 10k. That's twice as far as last year's 5K goal. I can already run a little over 4 miles, so this is also realistic. I plan on doing a straight 10K in either the summer or fall. However, the mud run crazies are contagious. Andy wants to do one. So he did a little research and came up with the Philly Mud Run for the MS Society. I'll post more about the run later, like the fact that people can provide donations to the MS Society as our sponsors. For now, I'm just going to say that it's a 10K mud run and I agreed to run it with Andy in June.

I think I might be crazy, but it's a good crazy, right? RIGHT?

Never mind, don't answer that.

3. This goal is a little more vague than the others, but I think it's a very good goal. I want to set a good example for Michael, and to do that I've realized that I need to do more than just exercise 4 times a week. I need to be active. I already do a good bit of this, like taking steps instead of the elevator at work, but I want to work being active into my daily routine even more.

There is a reason behind this goal. Emerging research is showing more and more that sitting on our asses for 8 or more hours a day is really bad for us. Even if you exercise regularly, you can still live a mostly sedentary life. There is an excellent series on this topic at Obesity Panacea. It's a 5 part series, but each section is a quick read, so I recommend that you take a little time and check it out. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part5. As a result, I'm going to make more effort to get up and move every hour at work, and to do the same on weekends.

So there you have it folks. 175 hours of exercise this year, a 10K mud run, and even a daily goal to not sit still for too long.

Shouldn't be too hard, right?

Never mind, don't answer that.

A Flash

2011-01-07T12:56:00.003-05:00

On Wednesday I posted about my mom's ongoing visions problems and the amazing improvement she has seen since have cataract surgery. One of the big concerns with getting the surgery is that is increases the risk of a detached retina. Considering that my mom has already had a partial detachment, this was a real concern for her. As I said, my grandfather's detactched retina ended up leaving him blind in one eye, and seriously impacted his quality of life. We take detached retinas pretty seriously around her.

While I know that Karen and her husband Todd know the symptoms of a detached retina all too well, I'm not sure if everyone else does. According to Wikipedia, the symptoms are as follows:

"flashes of light (photopsia) – very brief in the extreme peripheral (outside of center) part of vision
a sudden dramatic increase in the number of floaters
a ring of floaters or hairs just to the temporal side of the central vision
a slight feeling of heaviness in the eye"

If you encounter those symptoms, don't mess around. Call the eye doctor. The quicker you catch it, the easier detached retinas are to fix.

About a half hour after hitting the post button on my mom's vision post, I had a flash of light in my right eye. It's the same eye that I've been having problems with recently. One of those problems is a large number of floaters. I had tried to schedule an appointment with my eye doctor before Christmas, but his office staff failed to return my calls. I had already decided to find a new doctor, and the flash moved that up to project A1.

My mom is very happy with her guy, so I gave them a call. What a different experience. They promptly returned my call and managed to fit me in for an exam yesterday. The office staff rocks, the office itself was great, the parking was free and easy, and best of all the doctor is awesome.

The doctor did a through exam, then he picked up his eye ball model and started to explain what was going on. "As we age..." Groan. I'm not thrilled with this as we age stuff. I know I need to suck it up and deal with it because, well, I'm aging. I can't stop the process, so what good is whinging about it? Oh, I know, because I can! So here goes, WAH!

Anyway, what's happening is a posterior vitreous detachment. You can read about it at the link, or in brief the goo in your eye starts to shrink and pulls away from the retina. It's a fairly normal part of aging for most people, and not a big concern. It does have a slight possibility of leading to retina detachment, and based on my family history the doctor want to continue to monitor my eye until the process is complete.

So, in a nut shell, I'm fine. I'm just getting old. Compared to a torn retina, I'll take a little aging.

Reflections on a Year of Daycare

2011-01-06T12:30:00.002-05:00

This week marks a full year since Michael started daycare. I have a lot of thoughts about the subject and I thought this might be a good post for some randomness. Here goes...

Daycare Centers are cesspools of contagions. It's not their fault. It's the nose pickers and tornado sneezers fault.
It doesn't help if your kid likes to lick random objects.
Daycare provides an amazing social learning environment that is well worth the endless colds.
This is especially true if you are a geeky introvert who lacks social skills.
If your child is a puker, a loft bed may not be the best idea.
Really, trust me on this one. I know what I'm talking about.
It's a really bad idea to try and figure out how much money you've spent on daycare days that you couldn't use because your child was sick.
Damn, I could have had an iPad for that!
Watching your child read a book to his entire class during a Halloween party is one of the most amazing feelings of pride you will ever have.
Having your child's teacher point out how poorly your child eats is pretty much the exact opposite of that feeling.
You might just be surprised that your response to the teacher telling you that your child won't do worksheets for her is, "Great! That means he likes you and is comfortable in your class."
But you won't be surprised when your secondary response is, "Crap. It's not even kindergarten yet."
It is awesome to walk into the classroom to a huge hug and a declaration of, "I LOVE YOU."
It's a little awkward when you look down and realize it's not your kid.
And finally, even though you may worry at times if you are doing the right thing for your child, when you walk into the classroom to find the middle aged Indian woman who teaches the class rocking out with the students to the Clash's Rock the Casbah, you'll know that maybe he's in the right place.

Seeing is Believing

2011-01-05T12:35:00.002-05:00

A topic that I suspect will be coming up more and more on my blog is my increasing role in the Sandwich Generation. Even though I watched both of my parents as they cared for their aging parents when I was a kid, I naively pushed the thought away when Andy and I decided to have a child. I really should have considered the fact that my parents had me later in life, and I had Michael a little late, which makes my parents old.

Even though my dad is older than my mom, he's actually in better shape than she is. In fact, at 75, he's in better shape than most 50 year olds, so it gives me a skewed perspective on what 75 year olds should be like health wise. My dad still walks, bikes, swims in the ocean, sea kayaks, and is very active with the Boy Scouts. "Normal" old to me is when you have to give up running at 75 because it's causing some hip pain.

To be fair, my mom is still in pretty good health for her age, but since her age is not that young anymore, it does mean she that she deals with the effects of aging and the limitations that it places on her life. None of these limitations seem "normal" to her or to me. They just seem like limitations, and they are frustrating and a little scary at times. It doesn't help that she also has an autoimmune disorder that complicates things.

As you know, my mom has provided either part time, or full time daycare for Michael since he was born. Ideally, she would have been able to provide full time care until kindergarten, but reality snuck up and complicated things. She hurt her knee one year, then she needed surgery the next. Add in Michael's high energy level, and it just became too much. We found a good daycare last year, and things have been working pretty well since then. We have found a nice balance.

But, there has been one issue that I've been very concerned about. My mom's vision. She's always had poor vision. She started wearing glasses in grade school, and age only made things worse. I've watched my mom try various techniques for maximizing her vision over the years. She's done monovision with contacts to have one eye for distance and one for reading. Didn't work. She tried contacts and reading glasses. Didn't work. She finally ended up with contacts and progressive lenses so that she could see well enough to drive, read, and do fine needlework. Still, it wasn't uncommon to see her removing her progressive lenses while doing needlework to try and see better.

Then, the retina problems started. We have a history of retinal detachment in my mom's family, so it was not surprising when she had a partial detachment. They were able to fix it, but it was scary. When it happened to my grandfather, he ended up losing his vision in one eye; along with the ability to do woodwork, read, and drive at night. Those kind of restrictions on my mother would significantly hinder her quality of life. Her two favorite past times are reading and needle work. And, she's also not the kind of person who has the patience to wait around for someone to drive her around.

In the past few years, it's become abundantly clear that her vision is getting worse. She painted her bedroom and when she proudly showed it off to me I was shocked at all of the spots that she had missed. The entire room needed a second coat, but her vision was so blurry that she couldn't tell. That's bad enough, but since she couldn't see the problems it didn't matter. More importantly, she was driving Michael around in her car. I had taken to frequently testing her vision with "subtle" questions to try and gauge if it was safe for her to be driving. It was getting close to the point where I was going to have to have a talk with her about not driving Michael any more.

That would be a heartbreaking discussion. Who really wants to sit down and tell someone that they love that even though they are in good shape mentally and physically, you don't trust them to drive your child? Aging is hard enough without your brat kids pointing out that you are old and treating you like they are a child. I really, really did not want to have that talk.

This past fall, she ended up with what turned out to be a very mild case of shingles. On her face, of course. Right next to her eye. Did you know that getting shingles in your eye is a really, really, really bad thing? I didn't. But when her doctor discovered it, he sent my mom directly to an eye doctor. (By directly I mean he called the doctor himself and got my mom an appointment for the same day. Yikes!)

This guy was a specialist, and he's good. Really good. He looked her over, checked her out, and then let her know that not only where her eyes OK, but he could perform cataract surgery on her lenses and not only correct the blurriness of her vision, but also her nearsightedness.

My response was, "Wait, What!?"

She got a second opinion and got the go-a-head from her retina doctor and over a period of two weeks last month, my mom had the lenses of both eyes replaced.

And now, she sees better than I do. She doesn't even need glasses to drive. She still needs reading glasses and she has a small fold on her left retina that creates a blind spot that may be correctable, but for the most part her distance vision is 20/20. It's truly amazing.

I'm so excited and happy for her. I'm happy that she is no longer limited by such poor vision. That she can read and drive and enjoy watching birds. I'm also happy that the impending limitations on her driving and independence have been lifted and that she isn't looking at having to give up her license anytime soon. I'm also thrilled that instead of sitting down and having that horrible talk about her ability to drive, instead we can have debates over what kind of hawk is sitting on the cell tower across the road from her apartment.

Hello Internet, I've Sort of Missed You

2011-01-04T13:34:00.002-05:00

Wow, two weeks with no blogging. I feel a little like I dropped of the face of the earth over the holidays. It was a much needed break, and I'm thankful for the time spent with my family. But, I also do miss my blogs and blogging.

We ended the year pretty much the same way as we started it. Michael ran a fever for six days before Christmas, which forced me to take the sick time I had just earned back. (I earn a day a month for 10 months, and then two months without. Not the easiest system to have when you have a kid in daycare.) I could have been really angry and resented the time, but instead, when Michael would wake up at 6:00 am on the two days it was just the two of us, I simply brought him into bed with me and we snuggled for several hours. It was a very sweet way to spend the mornings, and a nice way for me to relax before the crazy holidays.

Michael's fever finally broke, and he was healthy through Christmas and New Year's Eve. Christmas morning with a 4.5 year old is so full of excitement and joy, that I couldn't help but be excited myself. I really enjoyed watching him open his gifts and seeing the joy on his face. At one point, he even mentioned that he needed to thank Santa for all the great gifts. I think Santa liked hearing that. *wink*

Santa also treated me very well and I got the Kindle I had asked for, as well as some winter running clothes that I really needed. Oh, and I got chocolate, and iTunes gift cards, and a bunch of other little luxuries that make life a bit more pleasant. (Like beer and puzzles.)

New Year's, on the other hand, isn't really a 4.5 year old's kind of holiday. So, my mom watched Michael for us and Andy and I spent the evening with some friends. It was a nice evening getting to be grown-ups for a few hours.

And, that's about it. Two weeks off and you would think I'd have lots of stuff to talk about, but we really didn't do that much during the break. It was really just a time to be together, recharge, and enjoy a little peace and quiet. Kind of like taking a big pause in all the craziness of our lives and building up our reserves for the next round of life that picks up with the New Year.

True to form, it started off with tons of fun. Michael woke up with another mystery fever on Sunday morning, and I dropped my car off at the shop later in the day because it had a few lights on that shouldn't be on. (Is it a bad idea to ignore the "Maintenance Required" light for a month?) Sigh...everything old is new again. Same year, different... But, my tweeps pointed out that the germs and the car problems were from 2010, so I'm going to go with that and head into the new year with a positive attitude. The very small bill for minor work on my car helped to keep me happy, and Michael's temperature was down this morning, so I hope we are good to go. If not, at least I'll have plenty to blog about this year.

And of course, I must touch on the New Years resolution topic. I don't have any. I have health and fitness goals, and I'll get to those in a different post. But no, I have no resolutions for this year.

So, there you have it. A completely boring welcome back post with no funny stories or interesting resolutions that I'll fail at spectacularly. I guess I'll just have to do a simple "Happy New Year". I've missed all my blogging friends and I can't wait to jump back into the web.

Twelve Months of Sidewalk Chalk and Sippy Cups

2010-12-21T12:04:00.002-05:00

I picked up this idea from some of the blogs over at Scientopia *and really liked the idea. If any one else wants to give it a try, you post the first sentence from the first post of each month. Let's see what my year looked like.

In January I "I only set one New Years Resolution last year. " I ended contemplating a resolution to reduce stress in my life, but realized it was unrealistic and ditched the idea right off. Good choice.

By the beginning of February I was pondering deep philosophical questions. "For some strange reason I often ask Michael what he wants for dinner." I still ask, and I still rarely get an answer. I guess I'll never learn.

March started with, "There are a number of different aspects of the 3.75 crazies that get me down." I take it I don't need to elaborate on the theme.

April saw me meet one of my 2010 fitness goals with, "One of my 500 in 2010 goals is to be able to run the 2 mile park loop, including the big hill, without stopping to walk." I'm still really proud of that. Wait until you see next year's goal.

In May I stumbled a little. "I'm in the middle of a blogging funk. " I didn't make many posts that month.

June saw the end of our first family vacation. "Our trip to Disney was a success!" 'Nough said.

July got a flaming start with, "I'm a bit of a weather watcher, so I have the Weather Channel app on my iPhone. " Yes, I managed to wrap being a geek up with my neighbor almost setting all of our houses on fire.

It was August before the sickies showed up in the first post of the month with, "We ended up with two different viruses floating around the house last week." The only difference between then an now is that we have a virus and a bacteria floating around the house. I can't help but picture the Wonder Microbes singing, "What's gonna work? Team work."

I got a little domestic in September with a long overdue landscaping project. "I've completed phase I of my little landscaping project." I did complete Phase II as well, but the ground hog ate my mums. Stupid whistle pig.

October started out with a trip to Vegas that I never blogged about because OMG I had the worst sinus/ear/throat infection ever. Here was the start of that saga. "Considering that I just had a great weekend spent hanging out with some friends in Las Vegas, this post should probably be about that." I don't think I ever post about the full impact of that illness. It lasted for six weeks, and I even managed to crack a rib from coughing. Please, never again.

November was a rough month. I didn't feel well, and I was very contemplative. It started with a flash back to 1977 thanks to, "Michael had a Halloween Parade/Party at his school on Friday. " You don't always know what parenting will bring up for you.

By December I was pretty much worn out. And old. I realized that my age is catching up to me and posted, "After wearing the same glasses for several years, I got a new pair back in January."
Yes, that's the post that I revealed that I may soon need reading glasses. WAH!

This year was a rough year with the endless string of ear infections, hives, shingles, and super bugs. I worked hard, played hard, and trained hard. I ran Warrior Dash and got into a size 8 pair of jeans. Michael was...well, Michael. I lost a butt load of sleep. But, I also made some big strides as well. It was not the year for no stress.

But that OK. There is always next year. I wonder what kind of crazy it will bring?

So, that's it for the year folks. I leave the office in a few hours and won't be back until January 4th. It's possible that another post could appear before year end, but pretty unlikely. I'd like to take this time to thank all of the wonderful friends that I've connected to through my blog, and I hope that you all have a wonderful Holiday season.

And as always, I'll still be making spelling mistakes galore on twitter @Joannagr.

*Remember, I'm a geek.

Show Me the Mommy!

2010-12-20T12:21:00.002-05:00

Wow, I'm really glad I didn't make that reduce my stress levels resolution last year. If I had, it would have been a major fail. I had this post planed early last week, but then I made a stupid mistake on Thursday. Not only did I make the mistake, but I made it TWICE on the same day. And I know better.

So, what was my stupid mistake? I casually mentioned that Michael hadn't been sick for two months. Twice. TWICE!!!!! What was I thinking?

He didn't even wait 24 hours this time around. He woke up at 1:00 am in the morning with a fever of 102. He was hot and sweaty and had just the slightest cough. I finally got him to sleep at 4:00. On the sofa. But that pretty much killed everything I had planned for the day...you know, like going to work.

So, I know that Friday is show me the mommy day, but seeing how next Friday is Christmas eve and the Friday after that is New Years eve, I'm just going to do this now before the picture is lost forever.

This is a picture that Andy snapped of me while we were enjoying a relaxing breakfast in San Antonio.

It's probably the best picture of me taken in the past several years, and I really wish it was with a higher quality camera. But, as it is, her you go. This is what this mommy looks like on the rare occasion when she isn't stressed out.

Tis the Season to be Quirky

2010-12-16T13:50:00.002-05:00

They held a gingerbread house decorating party at Michael's school yesterday. They take pint size milk cartons and glue graham crackers on them, and it makes perfect little houses for the kids to decorate. Michael was excited for Andy and I to come see him at school, but I wouldn't say that he was into the whole experience.

His teacher started everything off by having two of the children read books to all of the parents. The children are supposed to sit on the floor on their circle time carpet. This is what Michael did.

He's so cooperative.

Then, the kids sang several songs and did a little dance. This was Michael's take on it all.

His reason behind hiding was that he was a little shy. Being a little shy, I get where he's coming from. While all this was going on, the school director came in and asked where Michael was.

He whipped opened the curtain and yelled across the room that he was being shy.

Um...wait, that's not what a shy kid would do. That's what my kid would do. I get that too. Drama is so much more important than being shy.

Michael never did join the kids for the singing, but after a little coercion I did manage to get him to sit down at the table to decorate his house. I spread the icing on it for him, and then let him place the candy any where he wanted to. He stuck the mints to the roof and all of the chocolate candy went straight into his mouth. Or, at least it went close to his mouth.

I will say, those chocolate covered pretzels looked pretty good to me as well. It seems like a waste to put them on a gingerbread house. Never waste good chocolate, that's what gum drops are for.

It was a crazy scene, with way too many people squeezed into a small area. I did get a few moments to speak with his teacher. She pointed out that Michael can read all of the words on the wall, but that he now refuses to try and read for her. He also refuses to let her take a picture of him. Oh, and he refuses to do his worksheets as well. What can I say. He is who he is.

You might think I'd find all of this upsetting. My kid doesn't follow rules. He's stubborn and persistent. But, while it can be frustrating at times, this tells me something very important about his teacher. He really likes her. So, while I'm a little concerned about how he'll behave in kindergarten, right now I know that when I send him to school, he's in the hands of someone he trusts and likes enough that he has no problem being himself. That makes me very happy.

A Different Kind of Santa Problem

2010-12-15T14:20:00.002-05:00

I'd like to thank everyone for the thoughtful responses that I received from last week's post about my problem with Santa. I really did want to play up the magic of Santa, but my own annoyingly practical personality was making it hard for me. All of the wonderful input really helped me figure out how to play up the spirit of Santa and add a little magic to Michael's Christmas. Jen left a wonderful link to the article "Santa Claus:Making the Invisible Visible" Which is well worth the few minutes it takes to read. (Plus, I got a wonderful giggle out of the analogy the author uses considering I work in the aerospace business.)

That said, we have been working on making Christmas a fun and memorable time for Michael. We have decorated the tree and the house (Think Clark Griswald). We have been reading books and watching Christmas specials. This afternoon, we are going to spend an hour watching Michael and his classmates "decorate" gingerbread houses at school. We are playing up the season.

On Saturday evening, after we returned from the train exhibit, we went to a birthday party at one of our neighbors. It was a great party. After taking a few minutes to warm up to the crowd, Michael had a blast playing with the other kids and eating tortilla chips. Andy and I were actually able to chill with the adults while Michael played downstairs. It was a little Christmas magic for us.

Part way through the party, Santa and his elf showed up to the party. I didn't know this was going to happen, so I wasn't able to prepare Michael for it before hand. Considering that Michael flat out refused to even consider sitting on Santa's lap last year, a little prep time might have helped. Then again, after I caught a glace of the Santa, it probably would not have.

Let's just say that Santa seemed a little worn out. His fake fur suit must have been washed a thousand times, and while clean, looked really matted. He also had a pretty half-assed beard and the enthusiasm of three toed sloth. He plopped himself by the Christmas tree and gave surely looks to everyone that walked by.

I decided to give him a try anyway. I brought Michael up and walked him in to see Santa. He would have nothing to do with him. I pushed a little, but it was clear that I was just wasting everyone's time. The hostess was sitting next to Santa, and she had a gift for each kid, so I sent Michael over to her to get his present. He walked over, took the present, thanked the hostess, and then turned and gave Santa the stink eye. I just about died laughing. I've never seen Michael give anyone such a look, and it was perfect for such a lousy Santa.

But, you know what the best part was? Michael's reaction wasn't even the worst. J, our neighbor that is the same age as Michael, walked in, gave Santa one look and exclaimed that, "Santa does not have black eyebrows!" Now there is one 4 year old that knows some BS when he sees it. Good for him for calling the Santa on be so lame.

And, good for me for it not being my kid that outed the Santa as a fake. Thank goodness for small blessings.

Trains at the Arboretum

2010-12-14T12:02:00.002-05:00

For the past several years, Andy has been suggesting that we head to the Morris Arboretum to check out their Christmas Train display. Last year it was a little too snowy, so we skipped it. When I saw that we were supposed to have relatively warm weather on Saturday, I suggested that we finally head over. I checked their website and discovered that they are all of 7 miles down the road and wanted to kick myself for waiting so long.

The arboretum is part of the University of Pennsylvania, and it certainly has the feel of such a well regarded school. While we were there, they had a group of singers from the university strolling around singing carols. It was an added treat.

There is a lot to see at the arboretum, but we were there for the trains, so that's where we headed first. They have a nice set up, and Michael quickly found the Thomas tracks.

I have to say, I just adore his rosy checks.

There are multiple tracks, and some of them run up high. For small kids to really enjoy the show, the parents have to do some hoisting.

Andy and I took turns because Michael isn't all that little anymore.

In addition to the trains, they have replicas of many famous buildings.

Here is Independence Hall.

They also have copies of some bridges as well.

Michael was particularity interested in this track. He watched as two separate trains looped by for about 10 minutes.

After the trains, we had a little bit of time to check out other parts of the arboretum. They have a sculpture garden, but we avoided that after Michael bounced this one a little too much.

They also have this amazing tree walk. It a huge metal structure that takes you right up into the trees. It was sort of like being in the Ewok village, minus the teddy bears. They even have some netted areas where you can climb out over the trees.

Hey, that's a long way down. I went out, even if I was a bit tentative. Andy didn't seem to mind, and of course, Michael scrambled out like he is used to hanging out 40 feet above the ground.

I was really excited to finally visit and I was so impressed, I decided to convert our day passes into a year long family membership. I can't wait until this summer when all of the trees are covered with leaves. They have a very impressive collection, and it should be a nice place for Michael to blow off stem.

Oh, I also have some administrative stuff for you. If anyone is wondering why they haven't seen Christmas cards from us yet, this is why.

Four year olds are not always very cooperative.

My Santa Problem

2010-12-07T13:00:00.002-05:00

Spoiler Alert: If you still believe that a jolly, jiggly elf wearing a red suit and white beard magically deposits presents under millions of Christmas trees all on one night, do not read any further. I mean it. If you read further, despite my warning, and then get angry at me for killing Santa, well then, I may also have to start poking holes in the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy too. So, once again, if you are still gullible enough to believe that Santa is real, DO. NOT. READ. THIS. POST.

Santa. He causes me some problems. Big problems. Philosophical problems. He causes me enough angst, that I'd personally like to pull his beard off and whack him up side of the head will his fake belly pillow. I don't think that's the point of Santa, and I afraid I'm missing out on something. Let me explain.

I don't have any memories of actually believing in Santa. Part of this is because I'm the youngest of three kids. It's possible that my sister may have announced to our entire neighborhood, over the CB radio, that Santa was a fake. (Yes, really. I'm that old that I remember the CB radio fad.) While I don't actually remember that, I do remember always being skeptical about the very large man who could fit through a very tiny chimney.

In fact, my poor mother had to answer questions from a 5 year old such as, "How can Santa be at two malls at one time?" and "If Santa brings presents on Christmas eve, why can't we look under that blanket covering that pile of boxes in your room?" Even at five, I thought her "They are Santa's Helpers" and "Santa sent me the money to buy your presents" answers were lame. None of it made any sense. It was clear that I was being lied too.

And that's the root of my Santa problem. It's a lie. I personally don't like lying. At all. In fact, I probably take the no lying thing a little far based on the responses I've gotten from answering "how do I look" questions. I'm working on it. I now realize there are times people don't want or need to hear the truth, and I try to come up with the most polite and least dishonest response I can in those situations. Still, it doesn't make sense to me that people ask me how I'm doing when they don't really care.

Anyway, now that I'm a parent and it's Christmas, I find myself faced with the whole Santa thing. Michael has grown up with the belief in Santa, and I've been OK with it so far. We leave cookies and milk out and pretend that Santa comes on Christmas eve. Last year, Michael did ask me once if Santa was real. I deflected the issue by asking him what he thought. He said he thought Santa was real, so I just sort of let it go.

But I'm not sure I'll be able to lie to him if he asks again. It just seems wrong to me. If I'm trying to raise him to be an honest person, how can I lie to him? But, maybe this is different somehow? Maybe the magic of Santa is so awesome that it's worth the fib? Maybe I'm underestimating how sharp kids are and that they pick up on the whole nudge, nudge, wink, wink aspect of the whole thing? Maybe that's even part of the fun?

So, what do you all think? Is it OK to lie about Santa? Is it actually bad to not lie about Santa? Is my insanely annoying practicality ruining Christmas for Michael? Should I just lighten up and go for it, dusty boot print in the fireplace and all? Is this all a waste of my mental energy because Michael's going to figure it out by the end of the holiday season no matter what I do? Please, provide me with guidance oh wonderful blogsphere!

Randomness - The Good and the Bad

2010-12-06T13:16:00.002-05:00

We had a nice, festive weekend. I'm slowly getting myself into the holiday cheer, with hopes that it will pick up speed and I'll be motivated to host a great Christmas dinner again this year. At this point, since Michael is the only child on both Andy and my sides, he's really the only one that's tons of fun to shop for. Everyone else, not so much.

So, since I'm not fully festive yet, I'm just going to do some randmoness...with a twist. The good and the bad of each item.

Our township held it's annual Christmas parade on Saturday. We walked down to the corner and snuggled up in blankets and watched as some police cars, scout troops, a band, and the fire trucks went by. The Good: We were at the beginning of the route so cub scouts kept dumping candy into Michael's lap. It was as exciting as Halloween for him. The Bad: We have more candy canes than Santa's workshop.
I did actually rush out and buy a copy of Eclipse on Saturday since I hadn't seen the movie in the theater. The Bad: The movie was really bad. Andy kept cracking jokes, and I think he felt guilty for "ruining" it for. However, his cracks were the best part of the movie. The Good: I paid less for the DVD than if we had seen it in the theater, so hey I wasted less money by waiting.
I started my Christmas shopping last night around 7:00. The Good: The mall was dead, so I had the best customer service ever. The Bad: There is really nothing interesting at the mall, so I didn't really make a dent in my shopping list.
Michael loves the XBox Kinect. I mean he loves it. We played it at least an hour or two every day since we got it. The Good: Unlike the Wii, this thing really results in a great aerobic workout. It's great for burning off that 4.5 year old energy that it's too cold to burn outside. The Bad: He insists that I play with him. I'm a little sore.
Somehow I've become the Christmas cookie queen. It started within my family, but I made the mistake of bringing cookies in to work, and I now have a reputation to maintain. I'm expected to provide everyone's old favorites, but also to try a few new cookies each year. The Bad: I have a cookie dough problem. I love raw cookie dough and end up eating way too much with every batch that I make. This does not jive with my weight maintenance goals for the year. Plus, I'm probably due for a case of salmonella. The good: OMG. COOKIE DOUGH!!!!!

Hmm, there is probably more I could say, but I think I should head over to the Pioneer Woman and see if these might join the list this year.

Why Are You Waving at the TV?

2010-12-02T13:31:00.003-05:00

When I got home yesterday, the house was strangely quiet. Andy's car was there, so he had to be home. I started to wonder if he had forgotten to pick up Michael as I wandered through the silent house. When I got to the basement doorway, I saw the light was on so I called down. Sure enough, they were both down there. That's pretty rare, so I wandered down to see what was going on. Andy had pushed the chair back and was waving his hands at our big TV.

Um...whatcha doing?

Andy explained that he had picked up the XBox Kinect when he was out earlier. This game system had barely even hit my radar, so I was surprised to discover it my house. For those of you that are as out of things as I am, the Kinect is a game system like Wii, but instead of using a controller, the system uses cameras to detect your motion. This means that you don't have to worry about throwing a controller at the TV when you get too excited about a game you are playing. Another cool feature is that the camera will actually snap pictures of you while you are playing, leading to much hilarity.

I had plans to go to dinner with my mom last night, but I was going to play with Michael for a while so Andy could get a workout in, so somehow I ended up roped into playing the Adventure game with Michael. Great goggly moggly! What a work out. Michael and I were jumping and ducking and leaning like maniacs. We worked up some great laughter, and a good bit of sweat as well.

As I was playing, I realized that I was wearing a dry clean only sweater. I didn't want it to get gross, so I took it off and continued to bounce around with Michael. After about 30 minutes of this, I needed a break. I was still wearing a long sleeve T-shirt, so I was really getting icky. I sat down and decided to take my shirt off for a few minutes to cool down. Michael continued to play the game. That's when I noticed the camera float up on the screen so that it could snap a picture. AHHHH!!!! I dove out of the way and quickly put my shirt back on. The last thing I need is for someone to hack our system and pull that picture off the XBox.

Michael continued to play, and he too was starting to get pink from the exertion. He had on a hoodie and a shirt, so he asked me for help taking them off. Mid-game, I helped him yank off the hoddie, and managed to take the shirt with it. No biggy. I sat back down and watched the screen again. (So that I could tell Michael to step back every 15 seconds.) As I'm watching I hear Michael yell, "Snap a picture of me! Snap a picture of me!"

As I turn to look at him, the camera pops up on the screen, preparing to snap a picture. What I discover is that Michael had yanked his pants off and was standing there with all his dangley bits blowing in the breeze. The game prompted him to jump and when he did, the camera snapped it's picture. Of my baby. With his arms and legs spread wide and every flopping around.

I squeaked in shock and rushed, laughing to at least get a pair of underwear on his tiny little hiney. I giggle uncontrollably for several minutes, and Michael continued to jump and wiggle his way through the game.

When I finally stopped laughing, I hollered over to Andy that he was going to need to delete a picture or two from the hard drive.

I don't care if that's all we ever get from the Kinect. It was one of the funniest things I've seen in ages and the best belly laugh I've had in I don't know how long. Add to that, the fact that Michael bounced and wiggled for a full two hours and feel asleep without a fight, and I have to say that I think I'm going to like this thing.

It couldn't be

2010-12-01T12:58:00.003-05:00

After wearing the same glasses for several years, I got a new pair back in January. It was a necessity really. Years of Michael attacks had pretty much destroyed the old pair. They were so bad that I had to tighten one of the screws to keep the lens from falling out. Come to think of it, it's amazing nothing ever happened to the lens considering all the times it did fall out.

I love that the current style for glasses is the fairly narrow frames. After those multicolored, marbled plastic monstrosities in the eighties, sleek and simple is a big improvement. The problem with narrow lenses, however, is that there is always a little too much peripheral vision that's compromised.

With my old glasses, the week spot was always the area above the lenses. It wasn't a big deal, but it did make recognizing people who were coming down the stairs at work difficult to identify while I was heading up. I got called on it a few times, which leads me to believe that I may have occasionally walked right past someone I knew. Oops.

Anyway, when I got the new glasses over the winter, I discovered that their bad spot is under the lenses. On occasion, I would notice that I couldn't see something if I was looking down, and would have to adjust my head to get whatever it was into the field of view of the lenses. It was an annoying adjustment, but at least I wasn't failing to acknowledge people that I've known for ten years.

At some point, the motion became automatic, and I didn't seem to notice problems anymore. It was a nice. But, it didn't seem to last long. Recently, I've been noticing it more often, particularly when I've been filing down my fingernails as they do their annual cold, dry weather disintegration. I've also had to make adjustment to see my iPhone and when Michael holds things up in my face. I've actually been thinking of getting a new pair of glasses that have a little more coverage.

That's when something dawned on me. I'm not having trouble seeing things that are far away. These things are actually close up. And the adjustment? I'm not shifting my head down to get the object focused through the lenses. The adjustment is actually me moving my hands away about 2 or 3 inches.

OMG! It's not my glasses. It's my eyes. And it's not my nearsightedness. It's Presbyopia! You know, that thing that happens to your eyes as you age. But, but, but...I'm not even forty yet. That's not supposed to happen until your...wait, when is that supposed to happen?

So, after wondering about it for a week or so, I finally decided that I needed to find out if my eyesight could really be going old lady. I asked my sister if she's noticed her close up vision going. Sure enough, she has. Her advice? She simply said that I should accept that I'm getting old and go out and buy myself a pair of sparkly readers.

Sigh. I guess she's right. Eventually I'll need to get readers. However, I already wear glasses, so that will be a big nuisance. For now, it's not so bad that I can't just handle it with the arm adjustment. In fact, based on how long my arms are, I think I've got about another 13 or 14 inches to go before I need to suck it up and take the bifocal dive.

Contemplation

2010-11-30T14:08:00.002-05:00

Hmm...How to start? I have no clue, so I'm just going to dive in and see what comes out. I used to do that with papers in college. I could never write the first sentence until I had already written half of the paper. I guess that's just a feature of the way I write. I don't always have a complete idea of what I want to say until I've already spilled half of it.

I have this here blog thingy-do, and I'm wondering what to do with it. I enjoy blogging, but I've been starting and not finishing posts a lot lately. The problem isn't writer's block. It's more a matter of the fact that I'm no longer comfortable posting many things about my favorite blog topic. Michael.

Last night, while Michael was waiting for me to bring him something from the kitchen, he scanned my bookshelf and found a copy of Fox in Socks. He pulled it out and climbed onto the sofa and started to try and read the book. He kept spelling words and asking me what they were. It was a really awesome moment for me. I finally came in, sat next to him, and we worked on reading the box together.

While he's still my baby, and he's only 4.5 years old, he's also becoming an aware and sensitive individual. At 2.5, I never really worried about how he would feel 10 years from now when he read what I wrote about him on my blog. Letter obsession, dinosaur obsession, and picky eater. Fairly common little boy stuff. But he's changed a lot since then. Well, he's still into letters and dinosaurs, and he's still a picky eater...but he's also so much more.

The other night during dinner, Michael actually tried everything on his plate. He liked the chicken and he liked the rice, but after giving the green beans a fair try, he said he didn't like them. I started to respond to him, but before I said anything he said, "I know I'm missing out on foods because I don't like them." It wasn't snarky or rude. It was just acknowledging a comment that Andy and I have made about a hundred times. It was clear that he gets it. He's considered what we have said, and in this case he's made the decision that he does not like green beans.

Things like that are happening a lot now. The questions he asks and the things he says show a greater depth of understanding and a greater level of awareness. Things embarrass him now. Things make him uncomfortable. And he can articulate that to us. For that reason, I don't always feel that it's right to post some of the things he says and does. If I think that it would embarrass him now, or later, I have a responsibility not not share that with the internet where anyone can read it.

So, I'm trying to figure out what exactly my blog is going to be now. This has never been a blog simply for keeping track of memories. (If it was, my frequent missing of holiday posts would be a major fail) So, please be patient with me as I try to work out where I'm going with all of this.

Thankful for Randomness

2010-11-24T12:49:00.003-05:00

I know everyone is doing their Thankful posts today. I'm not sure what it says about me that I was actually thinking of doing an "I'm so screwed" post today. I guess it means that I'm either ungrateful, or I really am screwed. Then again, they aren't mutually exclusive, are they?

Anyway, why don't I just get to it.

The gift shop at Natural Bridge Caverns had tons of awesome dinosaur stuff. We bought Michael a dinosaur dig brick. They typically are made of some kind of plaster and you use tools to uncover the dinosaurs buried inside. They are for kids 8 and up, but Michael loves them, so we keep buying them for him.
Michael was unhappy with the tools that came with the set. After trying to work with the hammer and pick, he paused for a moment then asked me to go and get his chisel.
Should I be concerned that my 4.5 year old has his own chisel?
We had a victory in the food wars last night. Michael, who loves pasta, refuses to eat one of my pasta dishes that he used to eat. He's simply being contrary, but I haven't figured out a way around it until last night. When he refused to eat it, I put Parmesan cheese on it and then told him I was going to eat it. Not wanting to give up his Parmesan, he decided to eat the noodles.
After we "made it right" by returning the dinosaurs Michael had swiped from school, he turned around and swiped another one. We have instituted a pat down policy when we pick him up. If we catch him, we'll make him return it right then and there. I hope we don't have to do that.
We will be spending Thanksgiving with my family at Aunt Bubbles house. I'm thankful that I have a wonderful family, husband and son. I'm also thankful that I don't have to cook. It's a double win for me.
Speaking of Husbands. This is why I'm thankful for mine.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! May you be surrounded by love and joy. Also, make sure to save room for desert.

A Good Busy

2010-11-23T12:57:00.003-05:00

Hey, check this out, I have a blog! Who knew?

Seriously, I know I've been pretty lax recently. I've intended to post a number of times, but life just keeps getting in the way. Not all of it was good. That 5-6 week long illness really killed me. But some of it is good. I've been very busy at work, which is always a good thing for me. I prefer to be busy. And some of it has been awesome! This post will be about some of the awesome.

My company has a very prestigious award that goes out to about 15 teams for highly successful projects. It's a very, very big deal and the winners get a nice trip to a company location, several days of paid hotel and travel, and an amazing award ceremony.

I did not win this award. Instead, I did the only thing I could to ensure that I would get to attend. I served on the planning and selection committee. Andy didn't get to fly for free, but everything else was covered. I did have to work for part of the trip, but that still gave us time to have fun and eat way too much yummy food.

So, where did we go?

I'll give you a hint.

We went to San Antonio! San Antonio is a little different than the other parts of Texas that I've been to. For most places, everything really is bigger in Texas. Including their spiders. Ewww. But that's not true in San Antonio. The houses seemed tiny, the roads seemed tiny, and the Alamo was just an itty bitty little thing. I'm not sure if this is acceptable for my Texas readers, but the Alamo was just the cutest thing I've ever seen. Very dainty and quaint looking. I loved it, but that sure wasn't what I was expecting.

In other ways, San Antonio was just like the rest of Texas. If you have never been there, one thing that Texas likes to do is remind you that you are in Texas at all times. "Texas", "Lone Star", and other symbols of Texas are everywhere you turn. Including, breakfast.

Trust me, you will never see a waffle shaped like Pennsylvania if you come visit. That's just not our thing. (You might get one shaped like the Liberty Bell, but that is our thing.)

After working the event check-in, Andy and I got to attend the very nice award ceremony and dinner. This was the first time since prom that I had an reason to by a cocktail dress, and I have to say that I really enjoyed it. Here is me in the dress.

There was only one problem with my outfit. My shoes were a tad loose. This would not have been a problem, however I was on my feet through the ceremony so I could gather the winning teams and direct them to their places. Not the best time to discover that my shoes didn't want to stay on my feet. The good news is that I didn't loose a shoe or trip. The bad news is that I almost sent the wrong team up on stage in front of a large number of executives. Luckily, I caught my mistake in time, and managed to correct things before a disaster. Phew.

Like I said, Andy got to come along. Even better than me getting to wear a pretty dress, I got to see Andy dressed in a suit.

He looked even better in real life.

Unfortunately, the only pictures that were taken of us didn't come out well at all. Here is the best one.

Don't worry, I lost the wrap in about 30 seconds. It was chilly in their at first, but with over 400 people in the room, it warmed up quickly.

After the award ceremony, we were on our own for most of the remaining time. We made sure to hit the River Walk several times. Everyone told me to check it out, but I didn't understand until we actually got there and saw it. Basically, there are a series of canals that run through the city. They sit below street level and are lined with a beautiful stone walk, shops, and restaurants. It's like stepping out of Texas and entering Venice. I didn't snap many pictures, but I did try to catch some of the Christmas lights on night.

It was absolutely beautiful. But it wasn't the only place we visited. We also hit Natural Bridge Caverns. I've never been to a cave before, so I didn't know quiet what to expect. The caverns were amazing, and I wish we could have gone on the second tour to see more. I was amazed at just how large the rock formations were.

That "throne" was about two stories high!

Unfortunately, most of the pictures I took didn't come out very well. But let me just say that if you are ever in San Antonio, I would highly recommend checking the caverns out.

Overall, it was a wonderful weekend. Not only did I get some much needed sleep, I got to finally spend some quality time with Andy. Can you imagine? Four days without being interrupted by "mommy, mommy, mommy." What a treat.

"Shopping" at the "Toy store"

2010-11-11T13:26:00.002-05:00

After I picked Michael up from school on Monday, I noticed he was playing with two small dinosaurs that I didn't recognize. After checking them out, I determined that they were not ours. However, he has a ton of dinosaurs at my mom's, so I figured they could be from her collection. I decided to ask him where he got them.

He told me he went shopping at the toy store and that he bought them for himself.

I pointed out that he could not have gone to the toy store because he was at school. I also pointed out that he had no money to buy them with. He shifted the story every time I asked him a question, but refused to fess up.

I decided not to push the issue until I confirmed with my mom that the dinosaurs were not hers. I asked her on Tuesday, and she confirmed that they were not from her collection. Then, I sort of forgot about it.

Yesterday, while we were playing outside, I watched as Michael pulled two new small dinosaurs from his pockets. Again, I asked him where they came from.

"I went shopping at the toy store." He replied.

I asked him how he got to the toy store.

"I got a car and drove." He replied.

"Really?" I asked. He stuck with his story.

I then broke down every part of his story and showed that I knew it was impossible for him to have gotten the dinosaurs at a toy store. I then provided the alternative story that I thought was most likely. "I think you saw the dinosaurs at school, and you liked them so much that you decided to keep them."

It took a few minutes, but he finally gave in and admitted to taking the dinosaurs from school. I confiscated them and told him he would have to return them to school and apologize for taking them. He cried.

The topic came up again at dinner, and we reiterated that what he had done was stealing, and that he needed to return the dinosaurs and apologize. He was so upset about it, he couldn't finish his dinner, and complained of a tummy ache.

This isn't really surprising to me. He's not the only young child to do something like this. (We have a classic family story about Aunt Bubbles and some pilfered cheese.) I'm glad it occurred with something like cheap dinos from school, and not a security tagged item in a store.

So, tomorrow morning, Michael will make things right, whether he wants to or not. Hopefully, the anxiety this has caused him will be sufficient to teach him his lesson. I really don't want to have to go through this again.

Show Me the Mommy - Operator Error

2010-11-05T10:18:00.002-04:00

When I was getting dressed for work last Friday, I decided to wear my favorite shoes. They have a modest two inch heel, but by the end of the work day, my toes were still sore and I was ready to go home and abandon them someplace where Andy would trip over them. The only problem with this plan was that I forgot that I would be standing in the yard at Michael's daycare for his Halloween parade.

As I was waiting for Andy to meet me, I decided to snap a picture of my shoes to post on Twitter so my Tweeps could get a giggle out of it. Here is the picture I snapped.

Clearly, that is not my shoes. The iPhone 4 has a camera on both sides, so you can now take pictures of yourself without a mirror. So, it was a combination of the double camera and operator error that lead to this charming picture.

Once I stopped laughing at myself, I fixed the camera and snapped this picture to post on Twitter.

Stupid shoes to wear for a kid's Halloween parade, but I love them so much, it was completely worth it.

*******************

On a completely unrelated note, I sat through a Program Manager's Meeting this morning. I made a point to watch all of the adults try and sit still through the meeting, just like I watched all the little kids sit still during story time the other day. While the adults were not quite as wiggly as the kids, they really were not that much better. There was tons of foot jiggling, Blackberry fiddling, repositioning, and even one manager who needed to get up and walk around at the back of the room.

So, based on my observations, managers and small children have almost the same capacity to sit still.

Scatterings from the Scatter-brained

2010-11-04T12:28:00.002-04:00

Ah yes, it's that time of the week again. The time when I don't even try to pretend that my posts make any sense.

There is a child in Michael's class that could be either a boy or a girl. The child's name ends with "a" but it's not based on a romantic language, so I'm not sure that means it's a girl's name. I was excited to finally meet the child at the Halloween parade, but I discovered a child with long hair wearing a pirate costume. Even the way Michael talks about the child is ambiguous. I'd mostly settled on boy.
Last night I had a brilliant idea. I actually asked Michael if the child was a boy or a girl. "She's a girl." I'm glad I asked. (Though embarrassed that I didn't think to ask a month ago when I started to wonder.)
Normally when I go to make dinner, Michael gets upset and orders me to not make dinner. Last night, however, instead of trying to stop me he asked me what I was making. He's never asked this before, and I was rather surprised.
I told him we were having chicken, broccoli, and white cheddar noodles. He responded happily that he likes that and went and sat at the table.
I died from the pure shock of it.
Well, not really. But I'm guessing you caught on to that.
On the other hand, his response to me putting his Halloween candy on top of the fridge was completely predictable.
Now, if I can just keep MY hand out of his Halloween candy, things should be good.

A Day Off

2010-11-03T12:20:00.002-04:00

One of the few drawbacks to having my mom watch Michael part time is that there is no back-up when she takes a vacation. At least now, we only need to cover two days instead of five, so Andy and I are each taking a day while my mom visits her brother in North Carolina.

I'l be honest, I wasn't too happy about using up one of my precious vacation days right now. And you can totally read "my precious vacation days" as if Gollum were saying it. I really have gotten into hoarding my time off over the past 4 years. After the fact, however, the day was completely worth a precious vacation day.

This is the first time in over a year that I had a day off when both Michael and I were healthy, and we didn't have anything that we had to get done. No dentist or doctor appointments. No head to toe hives all over his body. Just a free day with no demands.

I knew that Barnes and Noble has story time on Tuesdays, so we headed over a little before 10:00. Michael picked up some books, found a chair and asked me to read to him. He climbed up on my lap and we read about 10 little race cars and then about 10 little fairies. It was sweet and fun.

When it got close to story time, we moved over to the small stage that they have in the children's section, and Michael sat down on one of the benches while I sat behind him. I love to watch children while their attention is focused elsewhere. Michael enjoyed the stories, laughed when they were funny, and managed to stay seated on the bench the entire time. However, he never actually sat still. I watched him slip and slide back and forth across the bench and I watched him wiggle and twist. He was clearly involved with the stories, and he was acting appropriately the entire time, but he was also in constant motion.

It wasn't surprising, Michael has always had some wiggle in him. What was surprising was that he was actually one of the calmer children in the group. Wow, do kids wiggle.

I figured we would stay for story time, and then leave after Michael had picked out a few books. Instead, we ended up having lunch together in the cafe. Michael picked out what he wanted, and then headed over to get a table for us. We sat and shared our selections with each other and chatted. He's growing up so fast. I miss my cute little baby, but I love this amazing little boy who is so charming and fun to spend time with. I keep thinking each stage he goes through is the best, only to discover that the next stage is even more wonderful.

I'm so glad that I had the time to discover that yesterday, and I really need to make a point to create more opportunities to do this with him.

Wow, Where Did That Come From?

2010-11-01T12:55:00.003-04:00

Michael had a Halloween Parade/Party at his school on Friday. Andy and I both left work early so we could see all the kids get dressed up and walk around the playground. It was super cute, and clearly a big hit with all of the kids. It also gave me a chance to see how Michael interacts with the other children and the teachers at his school. After seeing Michael's teacher with the kids for an hour, I have to say that I like her more and more. She has a good balance between compassion and structure that seems to work well for Michael.

After the parade, the kids all went back to their rooms for snacks and then several children in Michael's class read to the group. Michael was one of the children and I have to say I was very proud watching my little Spiderman read to a room full of friends and strangers. Michael seemed to enjoy doing the reading as well, and overall the party was a success.

However, there was one very awkward moment. When the kids came back to the room it was really loud and confusing. There were a number of siblings at the party as well, and it was difficult to fit all the kids in at the table. When Michael went over to the table, there was only one seat left and it was being blocked by another parent who was dealing with her daughter. Michael just stood there staring at the table for a minute and then would glance around for help trying to figure out what to do. I could tell he wanted to find a seat, but he wasn't sure about what to do.

Jump back to November 1977. My school had a Thanksgiving party for the kids and their parents. We all dressed up as Pilgrims and Indians. (Yes, I'm old enough that when I was a kid they still used the term Indians for Native Americans.) Each class sat together on the gym floor and we had our Thanksgiving meal sitting in a circle on the floor. Every class had a skit to perform, and our's took place in the middle of our meal. We all got up and moved to the stage for our skit. When we were done, some kids returned to our seats and others goofed around or stopped to say hi to their parents. You know, a typical kindergarten kind of event.

I was one of the kids who went right back to my spot and had a little more of my snack. As I was sitting there eating, I realized that I had sat down at the wrong spot and I had drunk milk from another child's carton. If anyone noticed, no one let on to my mistake, however, I was embarrassed all the same. In fact, I was so embarrassed that I started to get butterflies in my tummy. I tried to sit back down at my own spot, but I was too upset about it to calm down. I finally ended up finding my mom and begged her to take me home, which she did.

That's the memory that hit me while I watched Michael stand back and try and figure out how to navigate the chaos of the Halloween party. I stood back for a moment to see if he could work it out on his own, and I'm sure that if I wasn't there, something would have resolved the matter. Maybe in the long run, that would have been the best thing for him, however, I couldn't just stand back and watch. I finally went to him and helped him find the one open seat and asked the mother to move so Michael could actually sit down.

The rest of the party was good. Michael did just fine reading in front of the entire group. Aside from that one moment, it was all fun and games. I would imagine that Michael has already forgotten that one little awkward moment. But, I was left surprised at how watching such an innocent scene brought back such a strong memory for me.

Sometimes, parenthood is a strange trip.

Show Me the Mommy

2010-10-29T12:57:00.003-04:00

The key word on this week's post is MOMMY. There are only two things that lead to this look, Cirque du Soleil and being a mommy.

Not bad for being used as a sticker book. It could have been dinosaurs instead.

But wow, the lighting in our downstairs bathroom is horrible for photos.

Really?

2010-10-28T13:22:00.002-04:00

I remember way back when we needed to place Michael in daycare for a month when my mom hurt her knee. Michael was about two and a half at that time. That was when he got his first ear infection. About a week or so after his first ear infection, the daycare director called me to let me know that I needed to take Michael to the doctor. She was certain that he had an ear infection. Absolutely positive about it. I'm pretty sure she would have bet money on it.

Of course, he didn't have an ear infection. He had figured out how to get her attention, and he very convincingly played the roll that would get him that attention.

I seem to remember being a bit smug about how my 2.5 year old had tricked a daycare director.

A few weeks ago, Michael's daycare teacher asked me if he was switching back to the Tuesday/Thursday schedule. When I inquired why she thought this, she explained that Michael had told her that he was, and that he was very convincing about it.

I wasn't as smug about this one. I figured that he must be pretty convincing if he can pull that off with a woman who has been working with young children for several decades. But still, who beleives a 4.5 year old?

When I got home yesterday, I noticed that Michael had stamps on the back of each hand so I asked him where they came from. He told me the woman at the toy store gave them to him.

What? I checked the time and realized there was no way that Andy could have taken him to the toy store after picking him up. So I asked a few more questions. Michael gave me a very convincing story about a toy store. I asked him if it was a game they played, or if someone had come into the school to explain their job. Michael insisted that his teacher took his class to the toy store.

I'll be honest, I started to wonder if I somehow missed an event on Michael's calendar, and that they had actually gone to a toy store. I was about to get up and call the daycare center when I stopped and asked myself if I really thought they would take the kids out of the school without permission slips and requests for chaperons and all that other hoopla that goes along with class trips.

No, they would not. There was no way, no matter how convincing Michael was, that they went to a toy store. To confirm this, I decided to ask a few more questions. Turns out, the entire school went on the trip. One group went with Michael's teacher and the other group went by themselves. Michael was in the group without a teacher. Oh, and to get there, they all rode on bikes. Michael's was pink and brown.

So, I still have no idea why he had stamps on the back of his hands, but I am pretty impressed with how detailed Michael's imagination is. I'm also going to be a lot less likely to judge other people for falling for Michael's stories, since even I have trouble figuring out what is real and what is pretend.

I also will not forget about this skill either. I suspect that it may pop back up in his teenage years when it won't be used as innocently as it is right now.

Just Say Yes!

2010-10-26T14:03:00.002-04:00

Crazy weather is the new normal, so it wasn't all that surprising that we had record breaking temperatures yesterday. 75 degrees in late October? It probably doesn't say anything positive for our climate, but for a four year old the message is pretty clear. Let's go outside and play!

I know many of you have the same evening rush that we have in our house. You go, go, go all day, then you come home, rush dinner onto the table, and then hope you have some time to relax as a family. It can be pretty stressful, and anything that throws of the schedule tends to make that stress worse.

Last night I had the pan on the stove when Michael asked to go outside and play. I started to say no, but I stopped myself mid sentence. 75 degrees and dry out? When's the next time we are going to see that kind of weather? March? April? (December? Who really knows anymore?) I reached over, turned off the stove and out we went.

We had a nice little picnic, played a bit, Michael tried out his big boy bike again. It was lovely. And I'm so glad that I said yes. At 5:00, I finally decided to make Michael come in so I could get dinner started. He complained a little, but finally headed in.

The door bell rang. It was M asking if Michael could come out and play. How cute is that? All of our little babies are growing up so fast.

Michael started to say he couldn't come out because it was dinner time, but Andy decided to go with them while I worked on dinner. Once I got everything simmering, I checked outside and discovered half the neighborhood out front. I guess everyone decided to say yes last night.

It was completely worth throwing off the schedule to be able to spend a little more time outside playing with the kids. I know that after Halloween we will all end up stuck inside through the winter, and I'm not really looking forward to it.

Getting the Sick Out

2010-10-25T14:08:00.003-04:00

Getting the Sick Out is a phrase that Andy picked up from his grandmother. The idea is that after you have been sick, you should not just change your tooth brush and wash your sheets, you should throw the windows open and clear out even the air. I'm not sure if there is any actual health benefit to it, but yesterday we decided to get the sick out.

It was a good day for it too. Last winter was crazy snowy and this summer was crazy hot and dry, but fall has been perfect. It was about 70 degrees yesterday, so it was the perfect day to throw all the windows open and turn on all the fans. We did laundry all day and made up for all the cleaning we have missed over the past several weeks.

I don't know if it just happens that I'm finally starting to get better, but getting the sick out really seemed to do just that. We still have some lingering sniffles and coughs, but nothing like the past several weeks.

Now, lets just hope we can keep the sick out.

Show Me the Mommy

2010-10-22T12:27:00.002-04:00

I really suck at this show me the mommy thing. It requires me to actually remember to have a picture of me taken each week. In theory, I have no problem with that. I have no shame, and will jump in front of a camera with out hesitation. However, in practice, I'm a bit scatter brained lately and remembering to do this is just not working out. I don't think about it until I check my blog roll on Friday and since photos are forbidden at work, I'm left to see what I can pull from my phone and photobucket.

It's not pretty folks.

So, here we go.

Show me the mommy!

Well it is Larry the MAMA snake. You can tell by the egg.

Let's try again.

Show me the mommy!

Um...well...

Again!

Show me the Mommy!

What the...

Sigh. This is not going well. I must have something that is both of me and in focus, right?

Hey, look at that part. Nice and straight! Please praise my mad parting skillz.

OK, ok. I'll try again.

Show me the Mommy!

The blurry one was better, wasn't it? Go ahead, you can say it. I won't be offended.

OK, one more try.

Drum roll please!

Show me the Mommy!

Bam. There it is.

Randomness

2010-10-21T12:47:00.002-04:00

Ah, I love randomness. It's so...random. Kind of like life. Here goes.

I just got off the phone with Andy. He went to the doctor today. He's passed from cold into sinus and ear infection territory. No surprise there.
Last night, Michael was running a fever of 100.6, had a sore throat and a runny nose in addition to his alleged "allergic pink eye."
I'm wondering if it would be tacky to call up the pediatrician who diagnosed the "allergic" pink eye and go "Nana nana boo boo."
Yeah, that's what I thought.
I'm still doing the treatment for allergic pinkeye however, just in case I am wrong, because then the doctor could call me up and be smug and immature in turn.
In less gross news, we are having some gorgeous fall weather right now. Just cool enough for a sweater, but not cold enough for gloves. I love it.
We have still been trying to get Michael out to play when we get the chance. I figure if he feels up to it, we might as well make the best of it.
The downside of Autumn is that it's now dark when we leave the house in the morning. It's hard enough to get out of bed at 5:30, but walking out into a dark, chilly morning always makes me want to head right back inside so I can curl up and go back to sleep.
One of these days, I'm going to do just that.
Well, maybe not one of these days. Probably more like one of these years. Like once Michael is in college.
Yes, I know that's 14 years away, but a girl can dream, can't she?
How sad is it that I actually spend time most days dreaming about being able to go back to bed if I want to?
I've noticed that boots have been in style for several years now, and every time I see a picture of them in a catalog, I think it's a nice look. However, I never buy them because I would feel weird about actually wearing a pair of boots.
I think it's weird that I think it's weird.
Maybe I just need to be brave and go for it.
Ha, who am I kidding. I'll chicken out and wear ballet flats.
That makes me kind of lame, doesn't it?