Last night James came in to wake us because he had wet the bed. I have been so tired lately - like I cannot figure out what is wrong with me. I guess I was just delirious when James woke me up, because I was trying to remember why I was in bed with Scott's brother. Yes, that's right, I thought that Scott's brother was spending the night at our house and for whatever reason, he had to sleep in the bed with me. I even almost stopped him from taking care of James, because of course, that isn't the uncle's job to clean up night pee...anyway, after a few moments of just not being able to remember why on earth Scott's brother was in my bed, THEN I remembered. Scott ain't got no brother. It's official, I am LOSING IT.
Yay for Halloween! And, yay for Adrienne's birthday! And, yay for Adrienne's and Kristen's Halloween party! I am super excited about my costume. I am a Goth Girl, whatever that means. I am just using Halloween as an excuse to dress how I would LOVE to dress all the time if social conventions and my real estate attorney boss did not prevent me from doing so. Just you wait, Enry Iggins, just you wait. I'm going to look awesome!
James came in with Scott a while ago to my work in full Spidey suit. Spidey went to say hello to Lola, who cried, "Wow! Spiderman has come to see me!" James, being the thoughtful little dude that he is, felt compelled to come clean. He took off his mask and made sure that Lola realized he was "just James." He is out for candy, not to dupe anyone.
Last night I visited Clara at camp. Before she left for camp, I asked her if she was interested in having me come up on parents' night. Normally I wouldn't have even asked, I'd have just shown up, but the New Clara is sometimes hard to figure out. Anyway she did not seem excited at the prospect of her stupid old mother coming to camp and embarrassing her in front of all her camper friends. But I went anyway. And boy, am I glad I did! When I got there, she shouted, "MOMMY!" and gave me a great big hug in front of everyone. She excitedly introduced me to all her little friends, including one she called "Midget." Midget had lovingly dubbed Clara "Giant." If you didn't guess, Midget is at least a foot shorter than Giant and apparently they are BFFs and inseparable and both big-time tomboys. Clara and her friends showed me some EXTRAORDINARILY DORKIFIED dance routines they made up, one worth mentioning was the Alfalfa one...Midget and Giant stand face to face, make caricature-type buck-toothed faces, and commence shouting "alfalfa! alfalfa! alfalfa!" in a totally hickified country accent, while looking in the opposite direction of one another. I am sooooo not kidding. What does that mean, you ask...well apparently alfalfa is the sounds an armadillo makes and that is the dance it does. WHATEVER. Anyway, she appeared to be super glad I came...she hugged me several times, kissed me, and called me Mommy.
See? That right there...that's the good stuff.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Inigo Montoya
“I do not think that word means what you think it means.” –Inigo Montoya, The Princess Bride
What a great quote, what a great movie. One of my all-time absolute favorites. Always will be. I love to quote that movie and it’s especially fun when movie quotes can be used in real life.
For example, James and I were at Courtney’s yesterday. There was another mom, Michelle there, and five boys total, aged three to five. All the boys were outside playing and the moms were inside having beer and french fries we stole from the kids’ Happy Meals lemonade and cucumber sandwiches, when James came to the door.
VERY seriously he says, “Ummmmm….Mommy. I….have a….confession to make.”
*ALL the moms in the room die laughing and have a hard time keeping it inside*
“What’s your confession, James?”
“Um. Could you please tie this shoe?”
“I do not think that word means what you think it means.” –Mommy, Courtney’s house 2008
What a great quote, what a great movie. One of my all-time absolute favorites. Always will be. I love to quote that movie and it’s especially fun when movie quotes can be used in real life.
For example, James and I were at Courtney’s yesterday. There was another mom, Michelle there, and five boys total, aged three to five. All the boys were outside playing and the moms were inside having beer and french fries we stole from the kids’ Happy Meals lemonade and cucumber sandwiches, when James came to the door.
VERY seriously he says, “Ummmmm….Mommy. I….have a….confession to make.”
*ALL the moms in the room die laughing and have a hard time keeping it inside*
“What’s your confession, James?”
“Um. Could you please tie this shoe?”
“I do not think that word means what you think it means.” –Mommy, Courtney’s house 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
more mush
I know, I know. I am a TERRIBLE blogger. Let me try to make it up to ya.
First, my dear angel girl is eleven years old! Eleven! I can’t believe it was eleven years ago that I was handed my first baby. I distinctly remember lying in my bed with her when she was just a few days old and listening to a cassette tape (I KNOW, RIGHT??!) that my Aunt Karen gave me at my baby shower. The words to one song just really got to me. “Nappy time’s a happy time for children and for mothers…All snuggled up and cuddled up, tucked between the covers…The sun has gone to sleep and so blah blah blah blah blah….Nappy time’s a happy way to end a happy day!”
Er, um, something like that. Annnnyway. I laid in bed next to my new baby and bawled my eyes out. I don’t know if I had a touch of postpartum depression or what. But I could not stop crying – because although I was kind of a baby myself (twenty years old) and a very foolish girl, I was wise enough to realize that this babyhood was not going to last long, and before I could even react, she’d be too old for me to hold and hold and hold…with no words, no entertainment, just each other. And…the time has definitely come. I’ll never just cuddle her for hours again.
At eleven, Clara is both independent and needy. She likes to hole up in a room and watch TV by herself. She likes to play on the computer alone. She likes to stay home for a few minutes by herself sometimes. But…she still loves to be taken care of. She likes to have her apples peeled. She likes to have breakfast made for her. She likes to sleep on a pallet on the weekends. She has matured and grown so much that sometimes I forget. She IS still a little girl. It’s hard to be her age. It’s hard to feel like you want your mom to leave you the hell alone, and at the very same exact time, you still want all the attention in the world from your mom.
I’m trying so hard to be a good mom to my daughter. It’s amazing how difficult that is…I mean, when your kids are little, being a good mom means making sure they don’t hit or bite others. That they share their toys. That they get a good night’s sleep and eat halfway decent meals and snacks. Being a mom to an older child is HARDER. Yeah – they don’t need you to tie their shoes and cut their chicken and hold them and watch them every second. So there’s a little more freedom there. But…then…on the other hand, they don’t need you to tie their shoes and cut their chicken and hold them and watch them every second. So there’s lots of room for them to mess up and get hurt. And that is TOUGH to deal with. Not only that, but you have to make yourself available. You have to let them know they can come to you with ANYTHING. But you still have to maintain the parent-child relationship, rather than being their friend. You have to deal with the tough issues. You have to swallow your fears and embarrassment and talk to them about sex and drugs and all the stuff that makes you wish you could crawl into a hole. And you have to HIDE the fact that you are mortified, because if your child sees that you are mortified, she might not come to you when she needs to talk about whatever embarrassing subject that’s come up in her life.
When Clara was born, I wrote my mother a letter and apologized for being so horrible to her. I know my mom messed up sometimes – she’s a person. I didn’t realize that though. She was ONLY my mother – a being with no feelings and a cold heart who HATED me and didn’t let me do ANYTHING. The second my daughter came into the world I realized how wrong I was. I realized how much my mother probably beat herself up over things she felt she messed up about, and how she did the absolute most and best she could, which was actually a heck of a lot better than I gave her credit for. I realized that she had my well-being in mind in the decisions she made for me. And I immediately regretted every single bad time we ever had (which was a LOT, about age 14 till 19, we were miserable with each other). And I am above thankful that my mom and I love and appreciate each other now. She is truly one of my best friends.
Yeah, I know now – it isn’t easy at all. I know it’s not going to get any easier. I know that rather than preparing for all of this and talking about all of this, it’s actually going to HAPPEN. Soon. Wish me luck. Wish my poor daughter luck.
By the way, this was NOT SUPPOSED to be all sad and mushy – I had a list of things to write about. See, when I think of something I want to include in my blog but I don’t have time to blog right that minute, I email myself little notes. Here are the notes that I started using to write this post:
mattatician
clara's pictures
yes, mammary!
Drill team reunion
So, see? I went waaaaaay off track. And this is so long now – let that list be a little teaser that I’ll cover soon.
First, my dear angel girl is eleven years old! Eleven! I can’t believe it was eleven years ago that I was handed my first baby. I distinctly remember lying in my bed with her when she was just a few days old and listening to a cassette tape (I KNOW, RIGHT??!) that my Aunt Karen gave me at my baby shower. The words to one song just really got to me. “Nappy time’s a happy time for children and for mothers…All snuggled up and cuddled up, tucked between the covers…The sun has gone to sleep and so blah blah blah blah blah….Nappy time’s a happy way to end a happy day!”
Er, um, something like that. Annnnyway. I laid in bed next to my new baby and bawled my eyes out. I don’t know if I had a touch of postpartum depression or what. But I could not stop crying – because although I was kind of a baby myself (twenty years old) and a very foolish girl, I was wise enough to realize that this babyhood was not going to last long, and before I could even react, she’d be too old for me to hold and hold and hold…with no words, no entertainment, just each other. And…the time has definitely come. I’ll never just cuddle her for hours again.
At eleven, Clara is both independent and needy. She likes to hole up in a room and watch TV by herself. She likes to play on the computer alone. She likes to stay home for a few minutes by herself sometimes. But…she still loves to be taken care of. She likes to have her apples peeled. She likes to have breakfast made for her. She likes to sleep on a pallet on the weekends. She has matured and grown so much that sometimes I forget. She IS still a little girl. It’s hard to be her age. It’s hard to feel like you want your mom to leave you the hell alone, and at the very same exact time, you still want all the attention in the world from your mom.
I’m trying so hard to be a good mom to my daughter. It’s amazing how difficult that is…I mean, when your kids are little, being a good mom means making sure they don’t hit or bite others. That they share their toys. That they get a good night’s sleep and eat halfway decent meals and snacks. Being a mom to an older child is HARDER. Yeah – they don’t need you to tie their shoes and cut their chicken and hold them and watch them every second. So there’s a little more freedom there. But…then…on the other hand, they don’t need you to tie their shoes and cut their chicken and hold them and watch them every second. So there’s lots of room for them to mess up and get hurt. And that is TOUGH to deal with. Not only that, but you have to make yourself available. You have to let them know they can come to you with ANYTHING. But you still have to maintain the parent-child relationship, rather than being their friend. You have to deal with the tough issues. You have to swallow your fears and embarrassment and talk to them about sex and drugs and all the stuff that makes you wish you could crawl into a hole. And you have to HIDE the fact that you are mortified, because if your child sees that you are mortified, she might not come to you when she needs to talk about whatever embarrassing subject that’s come up in her life.
When Clara was born, I wrote my mother a letter and apologized for being so horrible to her. I know my mom messed up sometimes – she’s a person. I didn’t realize that though. She was ONLY my mother – a being with no feelings and a cold heart who HATED me and didn’t let me do ANYTHING. The second my daughter came into the world I realized how wrong I was. I realized how much my mother probably beat herself up over things she felt she messed up about, and how she did the absolute most and best she could, which was actually a heck of a lot better than I gave her credit for. I realized that she had my well-being in mind in the decisions she made for me. And I immediately regretted every single bad time we ever had (which was a LOT, about age 14 till 19, we were miserable with each other). And I am above thankful that my mom and I love and appreciate each other now. She is truly one of my best friends.
Yeah, I know now – it isn’t easy at all. I know it’s not going to get any easier. I know that rather than preparing for all of this and talking about all of this, it’s actually going to HAPPEN. Soon. Wish me luck. Wish my poor daughter luck.
By the way, this was NOT SUPPOSED to be all sad and mushy – I had a list of things to write about. See, when I think of something I want to include in my blog but I don’t have time to blog right that minute, I email myself little notes. Here are the notes that I started using to write this post:
mattatician
clara's pictures
yes, mammary!
Drill team reunion
So, see? I went waaaaaay off track. And this is so long now – let that list be a little teaser that I’ll cover soon.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Things I Didn't Know
I am in the process of taping off all the trim in my entire house to repaint it bright white. Last night after James went to bed, the steady sound of masking tape being pulled off the roll and ripped continued on with no background noise to cancel it out. From James's bedroom, I hear "ALL THAT RACKET IS *NOT* HELPING ME SLEEP!" (yes, that is exactly what he said)
Sorry, Son. I didn't know you were such a light sleeper. I also didn't know you were 85 years old. I apologize for all the racket.
I didn't know that my dryer was going to go out this weekend. I didn't know I would be stuck and not be able to do laundry. If there is one thing I HATE, it's getting behind on my laundry. I've become pretty good at keeping up with it, I try to do one load per day. But now I am about 3 days behind and the laundry's piling up.
I didn't know that when Aunt Cindee whisked Clara away for a special birthday treat, Clara would come back having had breakfast, lunch, a manicure, a brand new Ipod Nano, Guitar Hero for her Nintendo DS, a new shirt, and several OTHER new outfits. I did know that my daughter is spoiled. That part is so not a surprise to me.
Sorry, Son. I didn't know you were such a light sleeper. I also didn't know you were 85 years old. I apologize for all the racket.
I didn't know that my dryer was going to go out this weekend. I didn't know I would be stuck and not be able to do laundry. If there is one thing I HATE, it's getting behind on my laundry. I've become pretty good at keeping up with it, I try to do one load per day. But now I am about 3 days behind and the laundry's piling up.
I didn't know that when Aunt Cindee whisked Clara away for a special birthday treat, Clara would come back having had breakfast, lunch, a manicure, a brand new Ipod Nano, Guitar Hero for her Nintendo DS, a new shirt, and several OTHER new outfits. I did know that my daughter is spoiled. That part is so not a surprise to me.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Bough
My husband doesn't cough. He boughs. Like, boff, only bough because it's cough with a b.
What do I mean? I mean, he doesn't cough like most people. His coughs start with a b. I can't type it, of course, and convey the sound accurately, but do this: cough outloud and then do it again with a B in the front.
Now do you get it? Isn't it funny?
What do I mean? I mean, he doesn't cough like most people. His coughs start with a b. I can't type it, of course, and convey the sound accurately, but do this: cough outloud and then do it again with a B in the front.
Now do you get it? Isn't it funny?
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Scotch and Rotch, nee Rum
Once upon a time, there was a little boy who turned into a Ninja Turtle. The Ninja Turtle decided that his mommy should turn into a Ninja Turtle Mommy. The Ninja Turtle asked his Ninja Turtle Mommy what she thought his name should be, and she told him she wasn't sure. "I know!" exclaimed the Ninja Turtle, "I'll be named Scotch!"
(pause for a thumbs up and cheesy grin thrown in my daddy-o's direction)
The Ninja Turtle Mommy LOLd and suggested that in that case, her name should be Rum. Scotch agreed. Scotch and Rum put their heads together and figured out the best plan of action would be to go for a walk. The two went outside, Scotch in his Ninja Turtle regalia, including mask, one piece jumper, detachable shell and sword, and Rum in her work pants and mowing-the-yard flip-flops. Scotch had a really hard time remembering Rum's name and all he could ever come up with was Rotch, which is the most beautiful sound the Ninja Turtle Mommy had ever heard, so she gladly changed her name from Rum to Rotch.
They finished their walk, and they all lived happily ever after.
(pause for a thumbs up and cheesy grin thrown in my daddy-o's direction)
The Ninja Turtle Mommy LOLd and suggested that in that case, her name should be Rum. Scotch agreed. Scotch and Rum put their heads together and figured out the best plan of action would be to go for a walk. The two went outside, Scotch in his Ninja Turtle regalia, including mask, one piece jumper, detachable shell and sword, and Rum in her work pants and mowing-the-yard flip-flops. Scotch had a really hard time remembering Rum's name and all he could ever come up with was Rotch, which is the most beautiful sound the Ninja Turtle Mommy had ever heard, so she gladly changed her name from Rum to Rotch.
They finished their walk, and they all lived happily ever after.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Oooo gurl, you tole heeyum!
**Warning - this post contains the word "ass" in several places. Please exit if you are offended by this word, or if you would be offended that a grown woman would call a 10 year old boy this word.**
Is it bad to call a kid an ass? No? Okay. Good.
Clara told me on the way home the other day that this boy in her class asked her if she is any good at soccer. Naturally, she said "well, yeah." Then he said, "do you practice a lot?" "Yes," she said, "we practice a couple times a week."
Then the little ass said, "well I guess you're not all that good, are ya, or you wouldn't need all that practice?"
ASS! ASS! ASS! ASS!
I asked her what she said, and she didn't quite know WHAT to say to this ass. I mean - first of all, do we treat this as teasing? As dissing? Or do we just assume this child is "special" and doesn't grasp the concept of practice? Or do we assume the kid is jealous? Or, do we assume the kid likes Clara (like, like-likes, not just likes) and is intimidated by her abilities? I think he's a little ass.
Whatever.
So a few days after that incident, Clara got in the car, pleased as punch. She said "do you remember the kid who asked me if I practice soccer a lot?" and I said that I did. "Well," she began, "I really got him back and GOOD."
WHOOOOPEEEEE!!
"What'd ya do?" I asked her excitedly.
"Well, see, there is a girl in my class, and she just got a new dog, and everyone was talking about it, including the boy that asked me that, and then someone else asked what kind of dog it was and the boy that asked me said, 'Is it a Yorkie?' and and and and I said "NO, BUT YOU'RE A DORKIE!"
BOOOOOYAH you little dorkie ass!
The moral of this story is…don't mess with Clara. If you do…she'll get ya back. It might not be today, and it might not be tomorrow, BUT SHE WILL GET YOU!
Is it bad to call a kid an ass? No? Okay. Good.
Clara told me on the way home the other day that this boy in her class asked her if she is any good at soccer. Naturally, she said "well, yeah." Then he said, "do you practice a lot?" "Yes," she said, "we practice a couple times a week."
Then the little ass said, "well I guess you're not all that good, are ya, or you wouldn't need all that practice?"
ASS! ASS! ASS! ASS!
I asked her what she said, and she didn't quite know WHAT to say to this ass. I mean - first of all, do we treat this as teasing? As dissing? Or do we just assume this child is "special" and doesn't grasp the concept of practice? Or do we assume the kid is jealous? Or, do we assume the kid likes Clara (like, like-likes, not just likes) and is intimidated by her abilities? I think he's a little ass.
Whatever.
So a few days after that incident, Clara got in the car, pleased as punch. She said "do you remember the kid who asked me if I practice soccer a lot?" and I said that I did. "Well," she began, "I really got him back and GOOD."
WHOOOOPEEEEE!!
"What'd ya do?" I asked her excitedly.
"Well, see, there is a girl in my class, and she just got a new dog, and everyone was talking about it, including the boy that asked me that, and then someone else asked what kind of dog it was and the boy that asked me said, 'Is it a Yorkie?' and and and and I said "NO, BUT YOU'RE A DORKIE!"
BOOOOOYAH you little dorkie ass!
The moral of this story is…don't mess with Clara. If you do…she'll get ya back. It might not be today, and it might not be tomorrow, BUT SHE WILL GET YOU!
Friday, October 10, 2008
Fabulous Friday Fun
Can you guess what James is doing?
And don't say, "playing with plastic cups on the kitchen floor!"
'Cause he is...but things are starting to come together here...
Yes! We have nicely placed cups!
And don't say, "playing with plastic cups on the kitchen floor!"
'Cause he is...but things are starting to come together here...
Yes! We have nicely placed cups!
What is a boy with a firefighter jacket and a deflated basketball to do??
Yeah! He "bowls!" And he gets a strike!
Wahoooooooooooo!
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Hodgepodge
A few funny things:
James calls the mummy Halloween decoration at Lowe's a "wrapped up mommy."
James now knows how to write his name, cat, dog, dad nut, and mimi (not so much funny as amazing, and i wanted to document it so I'll remember).
Grandma Dolloff was trying to log on to the PBS website at her house for James to play. She was having a hard time, and she said, "well James, I'm going to pbs.org and it isn't working." James said, "no Grandma! It's pbsKIDS.org." Take that, Grandmo!
My daughter apparently has two personalities. Home life personality and social life personality. She had a friend over the other day, and I can't even count how many times I heard her exclaim, "Dude!" Something I've never in my life heard her say.
A conversation relayed to me via email from Scott (copied and pasted):
James: "um, how should I put this?" pointing his pointer finger to his chin.
Me: What is it James?
James: "well, im hot."
Me: take your shirt off james.
James: "Thanks!"
Yesterday James came to me, and told me he needed to poop. "Go poop!" I said. He came back just a few seconds later, pulling up his britches. "If your butt just says (raspberry sound accompanied by silent blowing) then you dont have to wipe or flush...right?"
Annnnnnd now, a couple of really wonderful things.
I found a DARLING dining set on craigslist...it was a fabulous deal. Sadly, I dont think it's for sale anymore as I have not heard back from the seller. Anyway, I showed my mom and tried to justify the dollars I'd have to spend to get it...and she suggested that it would make a PERFECT Christmas gift. :):):):) Isn't that sweet!?
My mother in law emailed me today and asked if she could borrow Clara one Saturday this month. She and my sister in law want to take Clara to lunch and shopping for her birthday. Scott's parents and sister are NOT related to my daughter by blood. At all. And yet...they mean as much to her as MY parents and MY sisters. They love her as much and she loves them as much. It's as if it's always been this way...like they'd been there at the hospital for her birth. You would never know that they only met her a little less than 5 years ago. They are unbelievable people! Sometimes I cannot believe how fortunate I am that I have such a wonderful family. I mean, I really (for the most part) get along with my ex-husband, and I think his new wife is a great gal! Clara really digs her...and she treats Clara like gold. Step-families can be so complicated. Please do not get me wrong...Doug and I have our moments. I mean...big time. But we don't hate each other...we don't talk bad about each other to Clara...we aren't vindictive and we don't use Clara against each other. I really don't have it all that bad :)
Another person who loves Clara...Scott. She calls him Daddy or Step-Daddy, and while her biological dad holds her heart the way no other person will (including me), she totally respects Scott, loves him, and is proud of him. And he feels about her the way any dad would feel about his daughter. He loves her, he has high expectations for her, he hates how fast she's growing up and at the same time loves to watch her grow and change. This family was just MEANT TO BE!
Last night I had quite a breakdown about one area of my life and Scott was so great. He held me, he talked to me, he comforted me...I would have cried for hours, I am sure, if he had not been there to make me feel better. I was so grateful to have him last night. I get embarrassed to cry uncontrollably in front of him (or anyone else for that matter)...but he's the only one I think I really would. Well except my mom and sisters. But that's different :) Anyway, thank God for him, thank God he was there, thank God he was patient and knew just what to do and say. Because I am FINE today. Just fine.
James calls the mummy Halloween decoration at Lowe's a "wrapped up mommy."
James now knows how to write his name, cat, dog, dad nut, and mimi (not so much funny as amazing, and i wanted to document it so I'll remember).
Grandma Dolloff was trying to log on to the PBS website at her house for James to play. She was having a hard time, and she said, "well James, I'm going to pbs.org and it isn't working." James said, "no Grandma! It's pbsKIDS.org." Take that, Grandmo!
My daughter apparently has two personalities. Home life personality and social life personality. She had a friend over the other day, and I can't even count how many times I heard her exclaim, "Dude!" Something I've never in my life heard her say.
A conversation relayed to me via email from Scott (copied and pasted):
James: "um, how should I put this?" pointing his pointer finger to his chin.
Me: What is it James?
James: "well, im hot."
Me: take your shirt off james.
James: "Thanks!"
Yesterday James came to me, and told me he needed to poop. "Go poop!" I said. He came back just a few seconds later, pulling up his britches. "If your butt just says (raspberry sound accompanied by silent blowing) then you dont have to wipe or flush...right?"
Annnnnnd now, a couple of really wonderful things.
I found a DARLING dining set on craigslist...it was a fabulous deal. Sadly, I dont think it's for sale anymore as I have not heard back from the seller. Anyway, I showed my mom and tried to justify the dollars I'd have to spend to get it...and she suggested that it would make a PERFECT Christmas gift. :):):):) Isn't that sweet!?
My mother in law emailed me today and asked if she could borrow Clara one Saturday this month. She and my sister in law want to take Clara to lunch and shopping for her birthday. Scott's parents and sister are NOT related to my daughter by blood. At all. And yet...they mean as much to her as MY parents and MY sisters. They love her as much and she loves them as much. It's as if it's always been this way...like they'd been there at the hospital for her birth. You would never know that they only met her a little less than 5 years ago. They are unbelievable people! Sometimes I cannot believe how fortunate I am that I have such a wonderful family. I mean, I really (for the most part) get along with my ex-husband, and I think his new wife is a great gal! Clara really digs her...and she treats Clara like gold. Step-families can be so complicated. Please do not get me wrong...Doug and I have our moments. I mean...big time. But we don't hate each other...we don't talk bad about each other to Clara...we aren't vindictive and we don't use Clara against each other. I really don't have it all that bad :)
Another person who loves Clara...Scott. She calls him Daddy or Step-Daddy, and while her biological dad holds her heart the way no other person will (including me), she totally respects Scott, loves him, and is proud of him. And he feels about her the way any dad would feel about his daughter. He loves her, he has high expectations for her, he hates how fast she's growing up and at the same time loves to watch her grow and change. This family was just MEANT TO BE!
Last night I had quite a breakdown about one area of my life and Scott was so great. He held me, he talked to me, he comforted me...I would have cried for hours, I am sure, if he had not been there to make me feel better. I was so grateful to have him last night. I get embarrassed to cry uncontrollably in front of him (or anyone else for that matter)...but he's the only one I think I really would. Well except my mom and sisters. But that's different :) Anyway, thank God for him, thank God he was there, thank God he was patient and knew just what to do and say. Because I am FINE today. Just fine.
Monday, October 6, 2008
I love to do makeup. And I LOVE when people ask me to do their makeup. I have had friends ask me, I've had family ask me, and of course, I've done the one wedding. And yet...none of that compared to tonight, when Clara asked me to put makeup on her the way she is going to be allowed to wear it when she "becomes a woman."
Really! She did! My little girl asked me to SHOW her. She could have asked her friends, or looked in magazines, or just tried it out herself...but she wanted me to show her :) So I did. For those of you who might judge me for saying my daughter can wear makeup at such a young age, I say KISS IT. I've said it before...if she's old enough to deal with all the things you have to deal with for a period, she can wear a little shadow, mascara and lip gloss. Oh, and, also...I am going to get her eyebrows waxed. Okay, okay I deserve a little judgment for that one...but she's got such thick eyebrows...and she's down with it. So leave us alone! You don't know us!!
She had a friend over today. They had a great time and they played hide and seek with James. Wasn't that nice?? I guess the age difference is enough that he's still cute to her, instead of annoying.
Really! She did! My little girl asked me to SHOW her. She could have asked her friends, or looked in magazines, or just tried it out herself...but she wanted me to show her :) So I did. For those of you who might judge me for saying my daughter can wear makeup at such a young age, I say KISS IT. I've said it before...if she's old enough to deal with all the things you have to deal with for a period, she can wear a little shadow, mascara and lip gloss. Oh, and, also...I am going to get her eyebrows waxed. Okay, okay I deserve a little judgment for that one...but she's got such thick eyebrows...and she's down with it. So leave us alone! You don't know us!!
She had a friend over today. They had a great time and they played hide and seek with James. Wasn't that nice?? I guess the age difference is enough that he's still cute to her, instead of annoying.
Appropriate post for Halloween Month!
Do you believe in ghosts? I don’t. That’s why I’m a little freaked out.
For a while now, before I even married Scott and he lived at our house by himself, there has been a strange creaking in the corner of the ceiling on our bedroom. He would joke that it was the guy who lived in the attic. Well, I gave credit to wind and settling of the house, as any rational adult would, until my son started TALKING to the corner. Well, talking to the man in the corner! I’d catch him (though not often, admittedly) blabbering to nobody (it seemed) and I would ask who he was talking to. He’d point to the corner where the ceiling meets the walls and say “that man right there!”
*Shudder*
Then, once while Scott was out of town hunting, James and I were left to fend for ourselves, since Clara was spending the night elsewhere. I got up from my bed where I was watching TV to get a drink pretty late into the night (James was asleep in my bed already). I went into the kitchen…and no lie, my dishwasher was going. I did not start it. I wouldn’t have started it and forgotten because it wasn’t even half full and I am a water lover, not a water waster. Ask my husband. He’s been b*tched at about wasting water plenty of times.
Anyway, I stood there for a second trying to rationalize this. The alarm was on. Clara was not home. My parents have the type of dishwasher that, if you lean on it you might accidentally turn it on with your hip. Not mine…you have to manually lock it, and then manually turn the knob. So the theory that perhaps the dog had bumped into it went out the window. I honestly could not figure out how that thing was turned on.
So I did what any rational adult would do – I FREAKED OUT and called my mother. Told her what happened. She groggily asked what I wanted her to do…of course I didn’t know. I didn’t think a ghost did it – I thought a ROBBER CAME IN and STARTED MY DISHWASHER and he was still in my house waiting to pounce. So, Mom came over and checked everything out for me. Under beds…in closets…behind curtains. Nothing. She left and called me when she got home and I made her stay on the phone with me while I armed myself with wine and/or beer (can’t remember) to help me sleep – I was NOT going back in that kitchen by myself. I locked the door and barricaded myself in my room with my son and my dog.
When I woke the next morning, all was well.
Since then, we’ve had a few instances of James talking to the Man in the Corner and hearing the creaking, but nothing huge like the dishwasher. We’ve joked around about the ghost in our house, not really believing that there’s an ACTUAL GHOST in our house, but maybe sorta kinda thinking maybe there just might be. Mom said that if we DO have a ghost that started the dishwasher, I should probably just leave my vacuum out and plugged in, just in case Ghostie feels like cleaning some more.
This past weekend, I was watching TV on our bed, Scott was on the computer, James was in the living room, and Clara was (of course) not home. I heard a noise coming from The Corner but it wasn’t the usual creaking, it was an actual KNOCK. A light knock, but a knock. Two raps. I told Scott about it and we nervously giggled about our ghost, and he of course assumed I was REALLY hearing something else (and me too, truthfully).
Till that night. That night James slept on a pallet and we had the dog in our room with us. The cat still gets a little rambunctious at night so we didn’t keep him in the room when we shut the door. Somewhere deep in the middle of the night, I heard BANG BANG coming from our bedroom door. Two raps. But not just little light knocks. Hard enough to shake the door in the frame. DEAR GOD, I must have dreamed that. So I lay still, holding my breath, waiting to see if there was more in store. Silence, except for Scott bolting upright, ears perked. We stayed like that for 60 seconds or so, when I finally whispered “what WAS that?”
“You heard it too???” he asked. “I thought it was just me! I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“No,” I said, “I heard it too. Someone knocking on the door.”
We were both kind of scared out of our minds, I felt down beside the bed to make sure James hadn’t gotten up - no, he and the dog were sound asleep right beside me on the floor. We were terrified to voice outloud what we were both thinking…REMEMBER THE KNOCKS I HEARD EARLIER???
I went to the restroom (if I died at the hands of an evil spirit I was not going to go out with wet undies!), came back and asked Scott if he was going to check it out. He hesitated ever-so-slightly and said “yeah.” He got out of bed and opened the bedroom door and our kitty ran inside. “Ohhhh!” I said. “It was the cat! My parents’ cat used to knock on the door when she wanted in.”
Yes. Our undersized cat who weighs maybe 6 pounds made the door shake in the frame. C.K. would lightly rap on the door with both paws, over and over. Not two big bangy bangs. But whatever. It was the cat right?? Had to be the cat. What else could it be?I told Mom this yesterday, and she assumes it IS a ghost, a benevolent ghost who starts the dishwasher and who knows the cat wants inside with the rest of the family. After all, as she pointed out, a ghost could just go right through the door if he wanted in. But he couldn’t bring the cat in so he banged on the door to wake us up and cause us to open the door…allowing the cat to join us in the bedroom!
Hooooooooooo Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee Oooooooooooooooo!
For a while now, before I even married Scott and he lived at our house by himself, there has been a strange creaking in the corner of the ceiling on our bedroom. He would joke that it was the guy who lived in the attic. Well, I gave credit to wind and settling of the house, as any rational adult would, until my son started TALKING to the corner. Well, talking to the man in the corner! I’d catch him (though not often, admittedly) blabbering to nobody (it seemed) and I would ask who he was talking to. He’d point to the corner where the ceiling meets the walls and say “that man right there!”
*Shudder*
Then, once while Scott was out of town hunting, James and I were left to fend for ourselves, since Clara was spending the night elsewhere. I got up from my bed where I was watching TV to get a drink pretty late into the night (James was asleep in my bed already). I went into the kitchen…and no lie, my dishwasher was going. I did not start it. I wouldn’t have started it and forgotten because it wasn’t even half full and I am a water lover, not a water waster. Ask my husband. He’s been b*tched at about wasting water plenty of times.
Anyway, I stood there for a second trying to rationalize this. The alarm was on. Clara was not home. My parents have the type of dishwasher that, if you lean on it you might accidentally turn it on with your hip. Not mine…you have to manually lock it, and then manually turn the knob. So the theory that perhaps the dog had bumped into it went out the window. I honestly could not figure out how that thing was turned on.
So I did what any rational adult would do – I FREAKED OUT and called my mother. Told her what happened. She groggily asked what I wanted her to do…of course I didn’t know. I didn’t think a ghost did it – I thought a ROBBER CAME IN and STARTED MY DISHWASHER and he was still in my house waiting to pounce. So, Mom came over and checked everything out for me. Under beds…in closets…behind curtains. Nothing. She left and called me when she got home and I made her stay on the phone with me while I armed myself with wine and/or beer (can’t remember) to help me sleep – I was NOT going back in that kitchen by myself. I locked the door and barricaded myself in my room with my son and my dog.
When I woke the next morning, all was well.
Since then, we’ve had a few instances of James talking to the Man in the Corner and hearing the creaking, but nothing huge like the dishwasher. We’ve joked around about the ghost in our house, not really believing that there’s an ACTUAL GHOST in our house, but maybe sorta kinda thinking maybe there just might be. Mom said that if we DO have a ghost that started the dishwasher, I should probably just leave my vacuum out and plugged in, just in case Ghostie feels like cleaning some more.
This past weekend, I was watching TV on our bed, Scott was on the computer, James was in the living room, and Clara was (of course) not home. I heard a noise coming from The Corner but it wasn’t the usual creaking, it was an actual KNOCK. A light knock, but a knock. Two raps. I told Scott about it and we nervously giggled about our ghost, and he of course assumed I was REALLY hearing something else (and me too, truthfully).
Till that night. That night James slept on a pallet and we had the dog in our room with us. The cat still gets a little rambunctious at night so we didn’t keep him in the room when we shut the door. Somewhere deep in the middle of the night, I heard BANG BANG coming from our bedroom door. Two raps. But not just little light knocks. Hard enough to shake the door in the frame. DEAR GOD, I must have dreamed that. So I lay still, holding my breath, waiting to see if there was more in store. Silence, except for Scott bolting upright, ears perked. We stayed like that for 60 seconds or so, when I finally whispered “what WAS that?”
“You heard it too???” he asked. “I thought it was just me! I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“No,” I said, “I heard it too. Someone knocking on the door.”
We were both kind of scared out of our minds, I felt down beside the bed to make sure James hadn’t gotten up - no, he and the dog were sound asleep right beside me on the floor. We were terrified to voice outloud what we were both thinking…REMEMBER THE KNOCKS I HEARD EARLIER???
I went to the restroom (if I died at the hands of an evil spirit I was not going to go out with wet undies!), came back and asked Scott if he was going to check it out. He hesitated ever-so-slightly and said “yeah.” He got out of bed and opened the bedroom door and our kitty ran inside. “Ohhhh!” I said. “It was the cat! My parents’ cat used to knock on the door when she wanted in.”
Yes. Our undersized cat who weighs maybe 6 pounds made the door shake in the frame. C.K. would lightly rap on the door with both paws, over and over. Not two big bangy bangs. But whatever. It was the cat right?? Had to be the cat. What else could it be?I told Mom this yesterday, and she assumes it IS a ghost, a benevolent ghost who starts the dishwasher and who knows the cat wants inside with the rest of the family. After all, as she pointed out, a ghost could just go right through the door if he wanted in. But he couldn’t bring the cat in so he banged on the door to wake us up and cause us to open the door…allowing the cat to join us in the bedroom!
Hooooooooooo Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee Oooooooooooooooo!
Friday, October 3, 2008
TGIF, People.
I cannot believe it is Friday again. Don't get me wrong - I am gladder than glad ever was. I just can't believe how time is flying!
Speaking of time flying, I have a birthday party to plan. Clara's going to be ELEVEN this month. I think this is going to be the year that she "becomes a woman." It happened to my mom, my sister and me at this age, and Clara definitely appears to be on that same track. I wonder if she's excited about it...I remember when I got my first period, my mom wasn't home and my cousing Derek and I were hanging out at the house. As soon as I saw, I KNEW...but I was in denial. My mother confirmed it though...and I was mortified. I did NOT want to start...I didn't want anyone to know. My sweet dad bought me earrings for the occasion and again, mortified. I didn't want to be alone with him for months because I was afraid he was going to want to talk about menstruation. Ah, if only I'd known...
But I think Clara is looking forward to hers a little bit, if you want to know the truth. We've been so nonchalant about talking about periods and the like, so she's less embarrassed than I was, I think. She asks questions about periods without hesitation and doesn't mind hearing about it (hearing about the actual baby-making freaks her the hell out, though, so we don't go there much). Anyway, I told her that when she's old enough to have a period and to have to deal with it, she'll be old enough to wear a tiny bit of makeup. We're taking about clear mascara and lipgloss...MAYBE a nude eyeshadow. So she's excited about that.
Anyway. I had absolutely no idea where this post was going when I started it. Still not really sure.
So I am going to a Halloween party this month and I don't know what I'm going to be. I was seriously considering Marilyn Monroe...BUT. I will be getting my hair highlighted before then and I am going a little darke for fall/winter so I don't know if I could pull it off without a wig, and I don't want to spend money on a wig OR wear one all night, so who knows.
Well, that's all I guess.
Speaking of time flying, I have a birthday party to plan. Clara's going to be ELEVEN this month. I think this is going to be the year that she "becomes a woman." It happened to my mom, my sister and me at this age, and Clara definitely appears to be on that same track. I wonder if she's excited about it...I remember when I got my first period, my mom wasn't home and my cousing Derek and I were hanging out at the house. As soon as I saw, I KNEW...but I was in denial. My mother confirmed it though...and I was mortified. I did NOT want to start...I didn't want anyone to know. My sweet dad bought me earrings for the occasion and again, mortified. I didn't want to be alone with him for months because I was afraid he was going to want to talk about menstruation. Ah, if only I'd known...
But I think Clara is looking forward to hers a little bit, if you want to know the truth. We've been so nonchalant about talking about periods and the like, so she's less embarrassed than I was, I think. She asks questions about periods without hesitation and doesn't mind hearing about it (hearing about the actual baby-making freaks her the hell out, though, so we don't go there much). Anyway, I told her that when she's old enough to have a period and to have to deal with it, she'll be old enough to wear a tiny bit of makeup. We're taking about clear mascara and lipgloss...MAYBE a nude eyeshadow. So she's excited about that.
Anyway. I had absolutely no idea where this post was going when I started it. Still not really sure.
So I am going to a Halloween party this month and I don't know what I'm going to be. I was seriously considering Marilyn Monroe...BUT. I will be getting my hair highlighted before then and I am going a little darke for fall/winter so I don't know if I could pull it off without a wig, and I don't want to spend money on a wig OR wear one all night, so who knows.
Well, that's all I guess.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Chatting with James
James: Guess what?!
Me: What
James: (making very grave face) I have bad news
Me: (making equally very grave face) Oh no what kind of bad news?
James: There is bird poop on our window on our car.
Me: (stifling a laugh) Oh no that IS bad news!
James: And bird poop is kind of like human poop.
Me: Is that right? What is a human anyway?
James: A human is a kind of man and lady. And they spend time together.
Me: Hmmmm, where did you learn this?
James: (matter-of-factly) I used to go to high school.
Me: When did you go to high school??
James: A long long time ago.
Me: I don't remember that, how long ago was that?
James: (makes L shape with his finger and thumb) Well, a long long time ago. This long!
*****************************************************
Also, I found out yesterday from James - to make a baby, you have to hug. WHERE DID HE GET THIS!? That's getting awfully close for a three-year-old! I am ALL FOR teaching the kids young where babies came from and how our bodies work...but this at three? He's going to be asking all the hard questions before kindergarten. I just know it!
Me: What
James: (making very grave face) I have bad news
Me: (making equally very grave face) Oh no what kind of bad news?
James: There is bird poop on our window on our car.
Me: (stifling a laugh) Oh no that IS bad news!
James: And bird poop is kind of like human poop.
Me: Is that right? What is a human anyway?
James: A human is a kind of man and lady. And they spend time together.
Me: Hmmmm, where did you learn this?
James: (matter-of-factly) I used to go to high school.
Me: When did you go to high school??
James: A long long time ago.
Me: I don't remember that, how long ago was that?
James: (makes L shape with his finger and thumb) Well, a long long time ago. This long!
*****************************************************
Also, I found out yesterday from James - to make a baby, you have to hug. WHERE DID HE GET THIS!? That's getting awfully close for a three-year-old! I am ALL FOR teaching the kids young where babies came from and how our bodies work...but this at three? He's going to be asking all the hard questions before kindergarten. I just know it!
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