Enough About Me.

Is there anything more heart warming than watching your child in their element?

The seven year old is doing a class play this week.
I went to help at the dress rehearsal.
Several boxes of kleenex later....

She is a villager and a comet (!)

As the villager she is earnest. She does all the actions enthusiastically and sings with gusto.
Very cute.
Then she does a quick change to become a comet.

Suddenly she was so graceful and confident.
She was clearly feeling proud of her costume and swept across the stage with finesse and the biggest possible smile on her face.
When did she become this young lady? Able to pull off a costume change and portray two characters so seamlessly.

There is something so bittersweet about seeing your child this way.
Confident, self assured.
It's what I want for her, of course but it's just another reminder that she no longer needs me as much as she used to.

So there you have it - I went to watch my kid in her play and managed to turn it around to being about me and how I don't want her to grow up so quickly.
Where do I pick up my parenting Oscar?

Tying Myself In Knots.

Apparently, I am determined to complicate my life.

Last Christmas the seven year old asked Santa for a Pillow Pet after seeing the commercial.
I was uninspired by the choice but we have a rule about the letter to Santa.
The rule is that if we give her the option of writing to Santa then we should honor her wish.

So, that was the goal. Reality had other ideas.
The Pillow Pet she wanted was out of stock.
I found a similar product and it made it's way to Santa's sack.

She loves it. It has been her constant companion.
Until.
A few weeks ago she saw the Pillow Pet commercial again.
We don't watch TV so commercials are rarely seen.

She asked. I said no.
She pleaded. I said no.
She came back with a business proposal.
She would work to earn the money and buy it herself. I agreed.

On Saturday we set off to get the much wanted pillow pet.
Her delight was delicious.
Her smile was body wide.
Pillow Pet in arms we came home.

The two year old greeted us at the door.
"You got me a Pillow Pet!' she squealed.
(My fears about the powers of advertising is another post.)

Oh dear God.
What was I thinking?
How could I bring home one cute, fluffy, cuddly pillow?

I decided that we would handle the situation in line with our morals and ethics.
We don't just get something because we want it or because someone else has it.

We tried distraction. We reacquainted the two year old with some of her existing cute cuddlies.
She sobbed. She was still sobbing at dinner time.

"She'll have forgotten about it by tomorrow" I confidently state.

She created us at 6.35am with..
"I want Pillow Pet" in the saddest voice you have ever heard.

We were outside the store for it opening.

Help A Mother Out.

I have some serious concerns about the state of our society.
I am fully aware that this ages me and it is true that I find Police officers to be ridiculously young.
I did somewhat recently, on meeting the pilot of the plane I was about to board, ask him when his father would be along to fly the plane.....

That aside. I worry.
I worry that we have moved so far away from the village living mentality that there's no going back.
That our focus is so inward that our sense of community is lost.

Becoming a parent has definitely heightened this for me.
Having strangers that I pay be the primary support for me is very different from how I grew up.
When I was a kid - we went to family or neighbors for help and support.

Yesterday was a tough day. The two year old was testing her boundaries. I know the drill but it's exhausting.
Not to mention infuriating.
When we picked up the seven year old from school we all headed to the fabric store.
The seven year old is in a play next week and I have a costume to make.

Two minutes into the store I saw that it was all going to go horribly wrong.
I was thrown into an all too common dilemma.
The two year old was tearing the store apart - we needed to leave.
If we leave the seven year old feels punished for the two year old's behavior AND we don't have what we need to start making the costume.

I decided to stick it out. I did my best distraction techniques and told the seven year old to make some speedy choices.
She did.
We got in line. The line was 15 or so people long. We needed to wait for everyone to get their fabrics cut to length.
It was going to take a while.
We did OK for ten minutes.
Then, inevitably, the two year old melted down.
Her tantrum was ear splittingly loud.

Two older women muttered about how I should leave. Yet another asked me if I could "quieten her down." (What with - duct tape?)
The counter staff chatted with each customer and showed no sense of urgency to get the long line moving.
I know I was weary and frazzled but what happened to helping each other out?
Not one person in that line offered to let me go ahead.
I had one bolt of fabric - it was clear we would be quick.
Wouldn't it have worked for everyone to get me and the screaming banshee out of there?

I know we all look back with rose tinted glasses but I know that when I was a kid someone in that line would have spoken up.
Maybe they would have simply helped me distract the two year old. More likely they would have said "You get ahead."

It was clear that no-one in that line thought to help me out. What they did find time to do was judge or ignore. Leaving me feeling unskilled and lonely. I know we ALL have busy lives but isn't there time for community? Isn't there time for humanity?
What happened to the warm fuzzy you get from your good deed for the day?

I'm aware it was just a bad day. I'm aware that there are so many people who need so much more help and support but is that where we have got to? We only think about helping when the need is dire.

It's something I've been noticing for a while. I rarely am waved out by another driver. I wasn't offered the available chair when I was pregnant.
I find it sad. Even if that makes me sound old.

Addendum!
A friend sent me this - interesting, eloquent. Worth watching - on this topic.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7AWnfFRc7g

Shower Me Happy.

I write my best posts in the shower.

By the time I get out of the shower, get half dried and half dressed (because the kids are already demanding my attention)
the brilliant post that was in my head is already half gone.

If I'm lucky I can write down some notes. Even so a note that says 'diapers' could mean a post idea or a shopping list after I get distracted changing one.

In the shower - my posts are witty, clever, provocative.
They are the perfect length to draw you in but leave you with a witty punch line, wanting more.
They are creative, original and inspiring.

In the shower, I love being a blogger all the time.
I never have writer's block.
I find my children hilarious and adorable.
They are endlessly entertaining and I can't wait to share their stories with you.

Maybe it's the hot, steamy water massaging my tired muscles.
Maybe it's the lack of interruption (most of the time.)
Maybe it's just that everything is better in the shower - my singing, my skin.
Even a cry feels more productive in the shower.
Perhaps I should start cooking there...

It seems ironic, cruel even, that I don't get nearly enough showers.
Yesterday I went to yoga at 9am and got my shower at 9pm.
Can we say ewwww. Honestly, I was just pleased I got one at all.
Maybe it's for the best.
If I showered everyday my writing would be prolific and I would most likely be published and about to set out on a worldwide book tour. Hotel showers are never very good.

I know I'm not alone in my shower genius. I know that I have read about various multi million dollar or life saving ideas that originated in the shower.
Why hasn't anybody invented the waterproof notepad or laptop?

Hang Loose.

So I've lived in California for 16 years. More than that I've lived in Northern California.
Home of the liberal, tree hugging hippie.

It was an adjustment - I grew up in a a religious, traditional home.
It turns out it came fairly easily to me. I seem to be equal parts Celt and Crunchy.

This week, however, I had two firsts.

I went to see a pre-school for the two year old. I am ready for some time to myself.
You know, so I can go to the gynaecologist, dermatologist, dentist and psychotherapist.
Some high quality 'me' time.

I went to look at a place that is very close to our home and has a good reputation locally.
I took the tour. It was your standard fare - kids, toys, little chairs and tables.
I liked it but didn't love it.
Then they handed me the application.
Here are the first several questions:

What color is your child most of the time?

If your child were a landscape, what would they look like?

If you were to create a landscape of your child, what mediums would you use?

Describe your child with an adjective and an element.

What plant would your child be and where in the garden would they grow?

If you think these questions are beautiful - stop reading now.


First of all - an adjective is a describing word right?

Secondly - these are two year olds. They like to play and eat.
They do not share toys well and will likely cry when their parents leave.
They will never admit to needing to sleep or pee.

I am a Waldorf mom - I like the idea that children are seen as individuals.
I want their teachers to get to know them.
I am still unclear how knowing if they are a Fica or a Daisy helps.
Aren't plants a subjective thing?
Wouldn't it be simpler to just say shy, or social?
Not to mention a little more sane.......


Next, inspired by my friend over at A Lil' Welsh Rarebit I decided to take action on the unwanted baby pounds. I signed up for Yoga classes.

I turned up early and fought the wish to leave. I placed my mat near the middle of the room and then he came in.
He was about fifty and clearly experienced in yoga.
He placed his mat DIRECTLY in front of mine.
That would have all been fine but for his outfit.
He was wearing a white vest and tangerine, velour shorts. More bloomers really. They had elastic around the legs.

I really hope I painted a good visual for you. I had to downward dog with tangerine, velour bloomers in my face.
I can tell you for fact that he was commando under those bloomers.
Is this a California citizenship test?

No, just another day in Parentville.

Envelope Please....

And the winners of the Eucerin gift bags are:

Andrea D

Jenn @ My Kind Of Strange

and

Eva Gallant

Watch out for UPS!


Thanks for playing.

The Munchies.

So we all know that parenting is hard on your marriage.

It's hard not to feel that that the work load is uneven.
It's hard not to be irritated when your working spouse complains about their difficult meeting when you have yet to eat, shower or pee.

The husband and I weather those issues just like everybody else but really they are not a big deal in our home.
Let me tell you what really makes me crazy.

I do most of the shopping and the cooking. I buy specific foods for snack and lunch packs.
I buy grown up food and kid food. Many items are for us all but snack and lunch pack food is for the kids.
I buy enough snack and lunch pack foods for the school week.

I know that you know where this is going.
The husband eats the kid's foods.

So you're thinking 'just buy extra for him.'
One step ahead of you. Been there, done that.
He eats the last one. Almost without fail. Not only does he eat the last one - he eats it on a Thursday night.

The other day I cooked the last two hot dogs for lunch - the seven year old likes them cold.
I cooked them the night before so I could chop them up and have them ready in the fridge.
The husband walked in the door from work, walked into the kitchen and popped one in his mouth.
He washed it down with the last Baby Bel.

Is it not obvious? We can't be having hot dogs for dinner or there would be more than two in the pan.
If there's one cheese stick and a big wedge of Brie - have the Brie.
Yes you will need to actually slice it and maybe add a cracker - it will be worth it.

IF you just can't help yourself and you eat the last of something, tell me - so I know to replace it.
Better yet stop at the store the next day and replace it your self.
I just took a minute to imagine that little scenario actually happening - I am now giddy.

I have decided to implement a new rule.
Do not eat the last of anything unless it has jalapeno and even then - check with me first.

A Little Knowledge....

Things I have learned since becoming a parent:


Silence when children are not sleeping = trouble.

My clean house will stay clean for less than ten minutes. (So sad.)

Scissors hold endless fascination for those under eight years old. (As do glue, glitter and paint.)

Glue, glitter and paint are never coming out of most carpets and upholstery.

It is very hard to be a good parent when your hormones are raging.

Children do not know what hormones are.

Two year olds do not discriminate between the table and the floor when it comes to food.

I do not discriminate between frustration and disgust when it comes to food on the floor.

Children cannot cut their own hair in a stylish way, no matter how many times they try.

Trying to talk a two year old out of wearing rain boots will be unsuccessful. Even if it is hot and sunny or bedtime.

The above rule applies to swimsuits and tutus.

Children can fully undress while seat belted in a car on the freeway.

Children will eat their food in the car. The same cannot be expected at the dining table.

Car valet is expensive.

Now I know.

Two or Twenty?

The two year old is scaring me. She is taking enormous naps and when she gets up she is about an inch taller and 50 IQ points smarter.
Yesterday she watched her sister jump rope. She ran inside and found her jump rope. Genius in itself - if you could see the chaos that is the toy box. She then proceeded to skip whilst counting to eleven. I feel sure if I had asked her an algebra questions she could have answered that too.
She's not yet two and a half.

She speaks in full sentences, can dress herself. She is toilet training herself. I think I may be unemployed by her third birthday.

At her two year check up she was classified as 'failing to thrive.' Please.
I read today that The World Health Organization has introduced new charts which they are recommending doctors use in place of the very flawed CDC charts that allow my genius, if slow growing, child to be so insultingly classified.

I fear that the two year old is going to start giving me math pop quizzes at any moment.
I am under prepared.

I haven't seen the book titled 'Keeping Two Steps Ahead of Your Very Smart (If a Little Small) Two Year Old.'
I certainly can't write it.

I have seen the book about teaching your baby to read. What's up with that? Why does a nine month old need to read?
So that she can check her email?

When I ask the two year old she states her age as five - something I think she genuinely believes - at least in terms of maturity and intelligence.
How am I supposed to demonstrate authority and control if she can make me look stupid with a question about quantum physics while we make cookies?

OK, so I'm exaggerating but it is very odd to have this little being that you created then taught to eat, drink, sleep and walk suddenly start
outwitting you.
Perhaps I can use her talents to my advantage. I wonder what the minimum age is for Survivor contestants?

Why?

So I have a question. Not one of you signed up for the Eucerin Giveaway. Where am I going wrong?
It's a bad pic - I see that and actually it doesn't even show all the contents.

The gift bag I received contained about $40 worth of skin care including SPF daily moisturizer.
I thought it was great - very everyday useable.

Did I pitch badly?
Is it just not your thing?
Do you dislike Giveaways?

I'd really love your feedback.

There are three gift bags still available so if you simply just didn't get to it yet - leave me a comment asking to be in the draw.
If you want to give me feedback but do not want the goods - just add 'No Giveaway' to your comment.

If you'd rather mail me privately - I'm at joy-mcg@sbcglobal.net

Thanks!

X and Y.

Another bloggers post about 'going for a girl' got me thinking.

It's such a delicate subject. You are not really supposed to say that you want a boy or a girl.
You are supposed to say you just want a healthy baby.
Why is it so taboo to state your desire when it comes to baby gender?

I know that there are so many who struggle with infertility that it is deemed insensitive.
I don't really see the correlation.
Wanting a specific gender has nothing to do with someone else's struggle.
If I say I'd really love a girl it doesn't mean that I am not heartbroken for you that you too are not able to have the luxury of that thought. Of course, it would be thoughtless of me to prattle on about it in front of you.
If you are in that position, you may want to stop reading now, I am about to prattle on.....

I DID want a girl. I had my reasons - they were very personal to me. It was not that I think girls are better or have cuter clothes.
My mother died when I was little. I had a deep longing for a mother-daughter relationship and I saw this as a chance for that.
I use the word chance intentionally. I knew that a boy was a possibility. I knew that I would have been as much in love and delighted regardless but if I was was being really honest - I hoped for a girl. In some ways it was a need.

I have had five miscarriages, two in the second trimester. I spent two years believing I would never be a mom. I know that pain. I still hoped that one day I would be mother to a girl.

Still, on sonogram day, when the sex of this much hoped for baby (now the seven year old) was revealed, I cried for the boy I was not carrying.
I sobbed for a full half hour into the, very confused, husband's chest.

It was a very spontaneous reaction. I cried for reasons I can't fully explain. The possibilities, the path not taken.
After that initial reaction - I settled into the excitement of knowing I would get to be mom to a girl and all that meant to me as a motherless daughter.
I likely would have found the healing I sought being parent to a boy too but at the time I didn't think so.
I had not experienced parenthood, so I didn't know what was coming in terms of loving my child unconditionally.

I suppose it all comes back round to the same thing. What someone else says or does should not be taken personally.
We each have reasons for our thoughts and actions and often they are deeply rooted.
My desire for a girl was not intended as a slight on anybody's religion, beliefs or fertility.
I was only talking about me.

What if I had had a boy?
I would have paid my $'s sat on the couch and worked through my mother/daughter grief that way instead.

I wonder how the seven and two year olds feel about being the provider of so much free therapy.

BlogHer Swag!

Didn't make it to New York this year?
No problem. Today I am rolling out the first of my BlogHer Swag Giveaways.

I have a fabulous gift bag from Eucerin for 3 of you lovely bloggers.

Eucerin want you to know about their Skin First Pledge and how they support Healthy Women.Org

Prompted by the findings of a new white paper detailing the important role of skin in overall health care and quality of life, Eucerin recently unveiled the Eucerin Skin First Council and online Skin First Pledge. Encouraging Americans to make their skin health a top priority. Through the Eucerin Skin First Council and Pledge, Eucerin shines a light on this critical health topic and asks the public to commit themselves to prioritizing skin health. Click here to take the Skin First Pledge.

In addition, Eucerin has joined forces with HealthyWomen/HealthyWomen.org, the nation’s leading independent health information source for women, to inspire people to take the pledge. 
For every pledge made, Eucerin will make a donation to HealthyWomen.Org

You can get more info at Eucerinus.com where you can link to a Facebook Giveaway and Eucerin's Skin First IQ Quiz.

Just leave me a comment to enter. If your comment doesn't link to an email or blog please check back to see if you are a winner! You have a week to enter.

ALSO,

As you all know I like to share ways to help others.
One of our blogging community needs help.
Erika of The Ivory Hut's house with everything she owned in it - burned to the ground this past week.
She and her family were lucky to escape.
I can only imagine how devastating an experience that is.

You can read the story here.

If you can - send a donation here.

If you can't then I'm sure prayers and well wishes are most welcome too.

Looking For Love.

The two year old just told me she 'doesn't love me.'

I know that she has seen, done and can do more than her sister did at this age because she is the second kid.
I understand (with regret) that she has ingested more sugar, seen more TV and heard about ghosts, bee stings, and various other scary things long before I wanted her too.

It's the lot of the second (third or more) kid. This one stunned me though.
I stood there will my mouth dropped open, then progressed to pouting.
I realize that by doing that - I taught her the power of that little sentence but I couldn't help myself.

The seven year didn't tell me of her love withdrawal until she was four or five.
It was amusing to me. This one stung.

You must be wondering what I did that was so awful that the two year old needed to shun me.

I said she couldn't drive the car.

I hope you'll agree that this is not an unreasonable stance.
She's not insured to drive my car and she's not tall enough to see out through the windshield.

I thought I was doing something nice. We were headed out to the library to get books - a favorite activity. It's very hot here today. An ice cream might have been added to the equation.

Now I am too upset. The two year old is not much happier.
I know this because she lay down on the floor and screamed and kicked for so long - she wore herself out.
No exactly a fit way to drive a car by the way.
She is now napping.

Two year olds - so unreasonable.