Spinning Yellow

Wholesome, Just Like Milk

The lovely and VERY nice, Kristen from From Here To There And Back has given me the Nice Matters award.

 

This award is for those bloggers who are nice people; good blog friends and those who inspire good feelings and inspiration. Also for those who are a positive influence on our blogging world. Once you’ve been awarded please pass it on to 7 others who you feel are deserving of this award.

I have to admit that I am kind of chuckling about this award.  I love Kristen and am glad that she thought of me, but I am conflicted about being called nice.  First of all, the actual picture is completely not me.  It's all pink and flowers and fancy shoes.  Much too girly. 

As I commented in Slouching Mom's Nice Matters post, I used to be called nice when I was younger and I was offended.  I thought nice meant boring.  I was always trying, unsuccessfully, to shed my goody-goody, girl-next-door image.  Don't get me wrong, I've had my fair share of bad-girl moments, it's just that, underneath any pretending, that's really not me.  I'm the one that follows the rules and the one time I don't, I get caught.  And everyone says, "I thought she had a good head on her shoulders, you'd never expect this from her."

So I used to actually say, "I'm NOT nice" because I figured people who labeled me that simply didn't know me well enough to come up with something more specific to say.  Did you ever do the team-building thing (probably at camp or a sorority retreat) where you sit in a circle and write your name at the top of a piece of paper?  Then everyone passes their paper to their left and writes a positive comment about the person who's paper they now have.  When your paper gets back to you, it is full of all kinds of confidence boosting adjectives.  My paper always said "Super nice!!" 20 times.  Great.  It might as well have said "Super boring!!"

And, the truth is, I'm not really nice.  I'm not the friend who remembers birthdays, who always calls back, who chats amicably with store clerks, who makes presents for teachers, who does little thoughtful things for others.  I am more of the friend who is always apologizing for being such a shitty friend and talks too much about herself.  I might make you laugh and I might make you think, but I am probably not the person who brings you a meal or offers to watch your children when you're sick.

It's not that I'm mean.  Although, I've also been known to say things I shouldn't and make people uncomfortable.  I think it is better to be honest than to be nice and lie.  But, I don't actively try not to be nice.  At least not anymore.

I think I am pretty much as inconsistent here in the blogging world.  I am trying to keep up.  To comment and post and link and be a good bloggy friend.  I am enamored with some of the blogging friends I've made.  I want to be more like them.  I appreciate so much that they've been nice to me.

This award is supposed to be passed on to 7 (!) people.  Yeah, that's not going to happen, I barely know 7  bloggers. 

I would have given it to these people if they didn't already receive it:

Kristen at Fromheretothereandback because she is a real writer who started blogging when I did and is so much better at it than me, but keeps encouraging me anyway.

Kyra at This Mom because she wrote me the nicest e-mail when I talked about her in my post and she is also so encouraging (and talented).

Oh the Joys who I met briefly at BlogHer and has stated that the goal of her blog is to "Build Community" - which she is doing, but she's also hilarious.

Slouching Mom because she comments everywhere and always makes me feel good enough.  And she really is one of those people who remembers birthdays.

Her Bad Mother because, even though she is super popular, she returned my e-mails about BlogHer and encouraged me to go (I just wish I had had something intelligent to say to her there.  I was all "you're great" and nothing else, dork).  And she is serious about wanting the blogosphere to be inclusive and for us not to feel like it is high school revisited.

If my two friends who are about to start blogs (yes, I'm talking about you Laura, and you, Lori G.) were already blogging, I'd definitely give it to them.

OK, can I be original?

Julie from mothergoosemoose because she is cool and snarky and political and anti-religion and still super nice.  She helped me get to BlogHer too!

I Am Bossy because she is very nice, I met her at BlogHer, and, well, she lives near me and maybe she'd be nice enough to get together and give me some PhotoShop/Graphic Arts tips.

WhyMommy from Toddler Planet, of course, because she is not only nice but informative, but you all know that already.

The title of this post is dedicated to my partner in trying-not-to-be-nice when we were in high school (are you reading girlfriend?).  A younger and obviously way more bad than me boy, once told me I was "wholesome, just like milk" in our World Affairs class.  I felt like the biggest loser, although, looking back now, I think he had a crush on me and was maybe trying to corrupt me.

She's a Potty Girl!

The two week potty review can be summed up now with:  It's over. 

She is now, officially, potty trained.  I'm not saying that she might not have accidents or what not, but she's got it going on now.  She even wakes up with a dry Nighttime-Princess-PullUp.  So, you know if you've been wondering why I don't post more, this is just one of many things that seem to take me away from being able to actually use full sentences and write coherently.

But, hey, isn't that true of all mommy bloggers?  So, I will spare you the daily scoring of peeing on the floor and pooped in underpants.  Of fights about putting on clothes (she prefers to be naked) and wearing a diaper (she keeps asking for one).  Of asking her over and over if she needs to go, only to have her then pee all over the carpet in front of the tv.  The hours of sitting in the bathroom reading her books while she sits and sings but doesn't go in the toilet (while I wonder, I might add, if it would be wrong of me to bring my laptop into the bathroom, you know, 'cause if I'm going to be trapped in there and all I might as well get something done).  Of spending the whole summer taking her to the pool in the stupid, non-absorbent, swim diapers and having people look at me like, why is your at least 4 year old wearing that (because Jane is tall and looks older than she is).  And on the very last day we go to the pool she finally goes without a diaper. 

You know, the regular stuff.

"I'm so proud of myself!  Now I get to go to preschool!"  Yeah, we held that over her head.

I still say that this potty training, just like eating and sleeping, is not about being a good parent.  And now that it is said and done, I still don't know what works and why.  You won't be getting any advice from me on this topic.  Plus, now I have two new problems.

First, I have to deal with my germaphobic issues while she needs to visit every skanky restroom.  Scott stood up to pee within weeks of being trained so I haven't had to endure the sitting on nasty seats.

Second, she's completely addicted to gum.  So her teeth will fall out, at least I won't get labeled the mom who was too lazy or ineffective to get her kid potty trained.

So now that that hurdle has been crossed, what was it I was saying about a third child?

A Future In Sales?

Tonight, the kids were fighting, as usual.  The primary reason for their quarrels is that Scott must always win.  He wants to be right, to be first, to have more.  Always.  Over the past several months Jane has begun to fight back.  She's sick of it.  Who could blame her?

They were about to take a bath and Matt asked who wanted to go first.  We stopped giving them joint baths because it just gets crazy.  The way we do it here, whoever goes second gets the coveted longer bath.  But Scott has a hard time deciding which way he wins.  Is it going first or having a longer bath?  Tough decision.

Jane wanted to go first so then he screamed that he should go first and Matt let him (because he was already in the bathroom and all this jockeying is so exhausting).  While in the bath, which he requested first and won, Scott teased Jane that he got the better deal.

Matt flipped out, Scott had to get out, a big meltdown ensued.  I tried to reason with Scott and started in on the same lecture he's heard before:

"You can't always win and besides, beating your sister is ridiculous, of course you win she is 3 years younger, no more winning games with her.  No one wins."

Trying to be helpful after yelling at him, Matt chimed in, "You should try to find a game that, when you work together, you both win."

"No, I hate those "together" games."

"Well, it looks like you have a future in sales, my son"

Like father, like son.

* Update to add that, reading this now, I realize that this is kind of an inside joke.  Here's the background:  Matt likes individual activities, he races in triathlons, he is very efficient and hates working in groups.  Although he will tell me "we make a good team" when he refers to us as a family, truth be told, he prefers to work alone.  He is also a salesman who is very good at making and closing a deal, something that really requires a mostly individual effort.  I am the team player who is always asking for advice, contributions, "let's talk it through", "let's have a meeting", things that make Matt want to run to some basement guy refuge room where he can fix his bike and be alone.   

Scott is fiercely competitive and enjoys team sports because he likes the actual activity but not because he wants to play together.  He is the kid who will get in trouble with the coach for being a ball hog and when he is reprimanded will say, "but I am the best player."  Like, why would I let someone else mess up my chance of winning?

In this way, they are, my two boys, very much alike.

Matt followed up his sales joke by telling Scott that he doesn't like those "together" games either.  You know, win-win, it is not really their thing.

Left Of Center

If you want me,
You can find me
Left of center off of the strip
In the outskirts and in the fringes
In the corner, out of the grip

- Suzanne Vega with Joe Jackson from Pretty in Pink

This song keeps going through my head these days.  I often feel that I am on the outskirts, on the fringe.  I am not really a writer, yet I am a blogger.  I am a SAHM but I also understand the working mother perspective from, among other things, my time spent at my parents' day care.  This feeling of being in but not really in, of sort of hanging out on the edges, has been a running theme for most of my life.  I am used to it and, for the most part, am comfortable with this position. 

I can apply this analogy to all sorts of things:  Being smart, but not super ivy-league worthy smart; being attractive enough, but not beautiful; having enough money for the decent house, but not enough to go on Disney World vacations and such; being part of the neighborhood groups but not the leader or go-to person; being in a sorority but not the A list one; etc.

The good part about being on the outskirts is that you don't get labeled.  You aren't stuck in one place or another.  I like this because I can be friends with the cool girls and also the geeks.  Flow from one group to another.  Be involved one day and not expected to be another.  I am used to this.

Enough about me, though.  The point of this post was to explain how Scott is the one on the fringe.  He is not Autistic nor is he completely NT (neurologically typical).  He doesn't qualify for the label special needs but he does have some needs that are special.  To most people he probably appears normal (I hesitate to use that word, knowing that it is relative).  His issues are not bad enough to warrant an IEP and special instruction from school.  But.  There are still things that are there.  Things that we see that others may not, or may be interpreted differently.

Sometimes we just get used to the way things are.  We give Scott a cloth napkin and things to chew.  We listen to him talk endlessly and rub his back.  We usher him away from his sister and let him throw balls against the wall in the basement.  We hope for few changes or disruptions.  We stay mostly to ourselves.

Last week we went to Scott's original OT (who now knows about this blog and has read some of it, yikes!).  She hadn't seen him in awhile, over 6 months, and was impressed with the progress that he's made.  But she was also concerned with several things.  His inability to form letters quickly from memory.  The obvious change in his alertness from when he arrived to when he was done with the session.  His excessive throat clearing.

She e-mailed me about these concerns so as not to talk too much in front of him.  I felt badly that I hadn't been better about working on his writing and helping him to self-regulate this summer.  I do some things, but it is difficult to fit it all in, especially when he isn't exactly willing.  Sure, I had noticed his throat clearing and yeah, I think it is a sign of his anxiety, just like how he has been chewing his clothes more lately.  But he's also doing so well, weathered so many changes, been able to control his temper and mood swings better.  To anticipate what might make him anxious and to maturely realize that it is temporary or to make adjustments that help himself.

So, I guess I forget a little bit about the other stuff or choose to look around it.  Of course he's more anxious, he is about to start full day school.  I'll bet there are few kids in his situation who aren't a little out of sorts now.  Who may be acting up or overly needy.  How do I know what is expected and what is too much?

We went to see a good friend and her boys last Friday (hi tac!).  When the kids were playing together I felt slightly nervous.  I know that my friend understands Scott's issues and has had her own difficulties with her kids, but it is hard to know what will happen and how his actions will be perceived.  We do not have many play dates and also do not visit with people a lot.  Scott has problems negotiating social situations and can either get wound up and destructive or pitch fits.  I get worried that he will do something wrong and feel terrible, hurt someone or break something.  He gets so excited and is then disappointed with what happens.  It seems like more than he can handle.

The visit went pretty well.  There were times when he couldn't stop himself and lost control.  He knocked over some stuff and wouldn't eat the lunch because the wet food touched the dry.  He was upset later that he couldn't ride the scooters like the other kids could.  Maybe he could if he had more practice or maybe this is a motor planning thing that is too difficult for him.  Hard to say exactly.

I remember when I first called the Parenting Consultant about Scott's pooping issues (months before we knew about his SPD) and, after explaining the current problem, she asked me if there were any other issues we needed help with.  Well, no, nothing out of the ordinary, I said.  I mean, sure he can be difficult, but isn't that just the way kids are?  I felt that whatever trouble we might have with him was par for the course.  Kids are trying.  I could read books and consult with friends.  Why would I need anyone's professional help unless the situation were desperate?

That summer of 2005, when Scott was 4, was when I began to see that he was more than just a little difficult.  Since then I have come to view him as extremely complex.  His actions often being dictated by the way he senses and experiences the world around him.  And, maybe just as often, he's completely normal.  A bright, curious, slightly anxious, energetic, six year old boy.

He will be starting first grade in two weeks.  He will, no doubt, have some trouble adjusting.  He is concerned about being away all day, about wanting to tell me things and not being able to remember them.  About lunch time and all the unknowns.  He will be reading and doing math at at least a grade level above most of his peers.  He will not be able to write or draw as well as most of the children.  He will probably get tested for the gifted program where he might qualify.  Most likely he will be right on the edge, like his mom, who squeaked by at a 130 IQ (my parents loved to tell me this to keep my ego in check).  He is smart but not a genius like these kids.

I can drive myself crazy trying to decipher where exactly he fits in.  The right place for him is in both worlds.  Somewhere on the fringe.  Mostly OK.  Not quite all the way.  Often misunderstood.  Needing extra assistance sometimes.  Ahead of the game in other ways.  Smart and athletic while also socially immature and physically awkward.  I am sure he will be able to see that his place is in between.  Hopefully, he will learn how to move fluidly from one group to another as it suits him.  And to feel good about being a little left of center.

Just like his mom.

I Did It!

Behold my new banner (look up)!  I am so excited because I figured this out on my own.  OK, it is not all professional and is a little off center.  But it is there.  It required me to upgrade to Advanced Templates, use a trial version of photoshop, and edit CSS.  I am nostalgic for my old programming days. 

Now, onto the I Do Follow business and a few other changes.

DO Try This at Home

The kids were playing outside this morning in the driveway while I was in and out of the house.  We have a fenced in backyard but sometimes they want to play basketball or color with chalk and that can only take place on the blacktop.  I know this is a risky thing to do because they are not protected by the enclosed fence and they are exposed to the road.  But the dog was out and she would bark if anyone came by and the kids know the rules about going to the end of the driveway. 

Besides all that, I was in and out, like I said.  Putting in laundry, then getting the mail, back in for more coffee, back out to pick up dog poop.  And I had to intervene entirely too much in what was going on.   Scott, you cannot throw the ball at her.  Work it out kids.  Jane, move away from under the basketball net if you don't want to get hit.  Scott, give her back her chalk.  Now what?  Why is someone crying? 

At one point I went outside and didn't see Scott.  I called for him and he sheepishly appeared from behind the car that was parked in the garage.  "What are you doing?"  I interrogated him.  He said he was sad but then wouldn't explain why.  I lost my patience and screamed, "GET IN THE HOUSE, NOW!!!"

Neither kid moved.  "NOW! NOW! FAST! RUN!!!"  I yelled.  The kids looked at me, but still did not move.

I stared at them.  They stared back at me.  I screamed like a raving lunatic.  "GET IN THE HOUSE!!  RUN!"

Finally, Scott walked slowly toward me.  Jane still stood by her chalk.  I continued to yell at her and wave my arms with the universal "come here" circle toward me.  Eventually, she walked into the garage and then the laundry room.

I was dazed and beyond angry.  Why didn't they come inside when I told them to?  Are they so used to me hollering that they don't notice?  Did they figure whatever evil might be lurking outside was better than their crazy mom inside the house?  What if some lunatic with a gun was out there and they just stood like statues in the driveway while I screamed?  Or do they know that I would have reacted differently, quietly grabbing them instead of yelling?

All I know for sure is that I felt completely powerless.  In a real emergency, I think my kids would be totally inept.

And it would be because of me.

So we had a big talk.  You know about how they need to do what I say especially if it is clear that I am hysterical.  Act first, question later.  Scott said, "But no one was out there".  Right.  But what if they were?  I now know that he has a false sense of security. 

I might need to do an experiment like Lynette on Desperate Housewives did.  Where she sent one of her coworkers to her house to see how gullible her kids were.  They walked right up to the car and would have been abducted in a second. 

Are my kids like that or is it just about me?  The mom who seems to have lost my position as credible authority.

Maybe I should come up with a secret word like "Shazam" that means "get your ass in the house as fast as humanly possible" in case of an emergency.

Or perhaps I need to just chill out.  I mean, would you have come running if someone was screaming at you?

Also, I named this post DO try this at home because I was going to include the story of my quest to join the "I Do Follow" movement, but I am still not done hunting down and replacing code.  Alas, maybe tomorrow.

How Summer Finally Got Its Groove On

Big things have been happening around here.  But before I can really get into that I need to back up to a few weeks ago.  The weekend before BlogHer07 to be exact.  It is then that summer turned a corner.  In a good way.

Actually, I even need to start a few days before that, right around the half-way mark of summer.  What really changed things first was that Scott started swimming again.  I think that got the ball rolling because once summer was more fun and less work, once he stopped being so stressed, and I could relax, well, then, we all felt better.

That bit of progress led way to the weekend I was first speaking about.  The one where, thanks to my wonderful husband, I had a vacation at home.  Matt knew that I was busy trying to get ready for my trip and that I just felt so overwhelmed and he did something he actually likes to do.  He spent a lot of time with the kids.  Not even just our kids, but their cousins as well.  He took them to the park.  He bought them McDonald's and treats from the ice cream truck.  He swam with them at the pool.

While I stayed home.  By myself.  In blissful solitude.

On Sunday, he said it was a perfect summer day.  And that was before we went to bed (if you know what I mean).  I felt a little slighted as I wasn't even with him, but then he clarified that he was mostly talking about the weather and not the actual way he spent his time.  But, even though he enjoys hanging out with me, he loves having the time to spend with the kids, so it really was a lovely weekend for all of us.

Because I had some time to myself, I was reading blogs and updated my blog roll.  So, if you want to check out some funny, insightful, poignant, hysterical, fabulous writing, then click the links on the right under Blogs I Read Regularly (Sort Of).

I hope you get a little time to enjoy doing what you like this summer, before it is over.  It can really change your outlook.

On to the updates:

Scott is swimming!

Yep, you read that right, he's swimming like a little fish again. What happened? you might ask, especially after I wrote this post.  Based on the comments that I received, I need to clarify some points.  First of all, Scott used to swim last year, so it was hard to chalk the current situation up to him just not getting it yet.  It wasn't so much about the motor planning or even the fear of the water.  It was the fear of getting swimmer's ear and having to get drops put in his ears. 

We even convinced him to try the drops again, thinking that if he realized that the drops weren't so bad, he'd get over his anxiety.  Big mistake.  If there was ever a question as to what Sensory Processing Disorder looks like in every day life, in its purest form, you should have seen that go down.  He screamed like his ears were on fire.  His whole body tensed up and his heart raced.  He sobbed.  He made us promise we'd never do it again.  And, oh boy, I sure hope we don't have to.  He (and I) might need to be sedated.

Anyway, another thing is that I couldn't just stop the swim lessons entirely because we didn't have anything else to do.  The way the swim club works, you pay for the whole summer, the membership plus the daily 45 minute group lessons.  It was too late to sign up for camp and besides, we couldn't afford to pay for something else.  So persisting in just showing up was necessary.

And that's what paid off.  Just when I was beginning to feel like the worst mom ever and wonder why I couldn't be like my parenting idol (you should read that post it is really great, oh and Scott wasn't so much saying he hated lessons, he really did want to swim, he just wasn't able to get over his fear), it worked.  We stopped encouraging him to put his head under water, halted all incentives and bribes, and told him he just had to participate in the lessons.  Do what he was told.  The instructors went along with it and lo and behold, when he stopped being pressured, he got up the nerve and just did it.  Within days he was swimming around under water again as proud and happy as can be.  For Scott especially, the consistency and time to find his own way is key.

I have to learn this lesson over and over.  To let the kids do things on their own time.  That giving them a reward only works when they want to do the thing to begin with, otherwise it just creates an impossible situation where they feel they can't do it and will, therefore, never get the carrot at the end of the stick.  Or does the "here's a sticker thing" work for other people?  Maybe its just my kids.  Or me.  Or both.

I went to BlogHer!

Oh, yeah, you know I went, you just don't know anything about what happened while I was there except for this.  Details are coming.  I promised and have not delivered.  No more promises.  But I will post about it.  I swear.

Our cleaning lady came!

Oh how I miss the cleaning lady.  Matt may miss her even more than me.  Don't get any ideas it's just that he likes a clean house.  We splurged and, even though we can't afford it (and we had to pay her nearly double her usual 2x/month rate), she came and cleaned for hours for the first time in 6 months.  When the whole house is clean at the same time it is a wonderful feeling.  And it let us off the hook for awhile as far as scrubbing goes.

Scott wrote a letter to his teacher!

On Scott's last day of Kindergarten, his teacher sent home a letter saying to write to her and she would write back.  Weeks have gone by with Scott making every excuse in the book, including "Kindergarten's over, she doesn't care about me anymore" (he's already done with her, I'm so sad).  Recently, he received a letter from her and then he had to respond.  It was like pulling teeth.  Scott likes making up stories to write but does not like the actual pencil to paper.  It's hard for him and I have not been good about making him practice.  After lots of strife, the letter is adorable and the handwriting is decent.  Good enough for first grade, I am sure.

I ran 7 miles!

Seems crazy considering where I started from, um, at no miles.  I never thought I could do it.  I am way over due for a post on running and the class I am more than half way through.  But suffice to say that I am running further and faster.  You can see what I am up to with the My Last Run item in my sidebar (top right above the ads).

Jane tinkled in the potty!

Only once so far.  She also peed all over the floor a few times.  She is super excited to show off her pretty princess underwear and get her jelly beans and gum.  But she still doesn't want to be bothered by the whole thing, finding it inconvenient and frustrating.  One day she held it from 9:30 am until 5:30 pm when, after several hours of sitting on the toilet and reading every book she has, she let loose 2 gallons worth of pent up pee on the floor.  But there is hope and a bit of progress.

*This just in: while I was finishing this post my MIL said Jane peed in the toilet at Applebees.  Yeah!

I have ads on my blog!

Have you noticed?  I am now part of the BlogHer organization's Advertising Network.  I get paid based on how many times the site is visited, so visit daily and tell your friends.  There are links underneath to other BlogHer Ad sites (blogs similar to mine) that you might like.  I don't like to sell very much and am somewhat conflicted about telling my friends to support me this way, but if I can make a few bucks then I can justify spending more time and effort on improving this blog.  This was a topic of much discussion at the BlogHer conference so I think I will cover it more later.  And the actual amount of money is very small, especially when you have very few readers!

I also signed up with Amazon Associates.  So if you are going to buy something from Amazon, make sure to link through Spinning Yellow (left side bar, on the ad or any book titles).  Thanks!

Scott went off the diving board!

Every year during summer swim lessons the instructors designate one day as diving day.  The kids get to go off the diving boards into the deep pool.  The regular pool starts at 2 feet deep and gradually goes up to 8 or 10.  This is great for kids learning to swim and Scott got spoiled being used to always touching the bottom of the pool  He never wanted to swim anywhere else.  The rules at our swimming pool are that children are only allowed in the water as deep as up to their shoulders.  Until they pass the deep water test and then can swim anywhere.  So diving day is a big treat because the instructors help the kids by lowering them down, if necessary, and catching them in the water.

The first year, when Scott was 4, he didn't want to participate at all.  Last year he conveniently missed diving day.  This year he was a little nervous but excited.  He slowly walked out to the end of the board while clutching one of the teacher's hands and then dropped off into the water.  He swam quickly to the side with the help of a life guard.  He looked at me with a huge grin and then did it 12 more times.  He LOVED it.  My anxious, cautious, off-balance kid. 

We talked a lot beforehand about how sometimes you just have to try things.  It might take courage but you won't know unless you do it.  If you don't like it you can stop.  He was so pleased he tried.  And because he finally swam in the deep water he made this discovery, "You know mommy, if you keep moving your arms you stay up out of the water.  You don't have to be able to touch."  Yes, my brave boy, so glad you figured this out on your own.

Matt signed up to do the Lake Placid Ironman race in 2008!

After completing the race in 2006, Matt was so looking forward to doing it again this year.  Unfortunately, circumstances didn't allow for us to go up there this year and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to sign up for next year.  But he got in.  This means lots of training again in the spring for him (and lots of time alone for me).  But it is worth it.  I now know that.  Seeing him come across that finish line was truly amazing.

Jane swims too!

Because she is a big three year old and loves the water.  And because mommy goes in the pool with her everyday even though I never thought I would (I don't really like to get wet).  Embracing the summer indeed!

Scott's front teeth are coming in, quickly!

How did this happen so fast?  It was just a few short months ago that I wrote about the space where his front teeth should be.  I thought it would be like that for awhile.  Or at least until Christmas so we could all tease him incessantly by singing, "All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth."  The teeth look pretty good although I can't help but chuckle thinking about this post from Catherine Newman where she talks about Ben's horse teeth coming in and this one from Wiping Up Snot.

Matt & I celebrated our 7th anniversary!

Amazing.  We even went out to dinner.  To the same restaurant where, two years ago, we ate and drank so much I had a 3 day hangover (further aggravated by the sick feeling of how much money we spent).   But we found our favorite wine there and always seem to sit at the same table.  Our marriage feels like it has a real base now.  It is nice.  Is the seven year itch coming?

Scott's sunflower bloomed!

Oh the tried and true, a-seed-grows-into-a-flower analogy.  I love it.  And the actual seed that Scott planted in school (without knowing what kind of flower it would become), well before summer began, is now a beautiful sunflower.  A tall, slightly wobbly, skinny sunflower.  One that almost didn't make it because Scott broke it in two when he threw a ball on the deck.  One that had to be replanted twice because it has grown so quickly.  One that Matt had to rescue from a storm and put upright again.

With subdued yellow petals it faces toward the sun, standing firm against the wind, stretching and growing every day.  It is the perfect symbol for our summer and for the boy who planted it.

**You deserve more than the pretty picture for staying with this post until the end!  Thanks!

I Never Claimed to Be Fun

When you live in the world of little kids, you can't escape the dreaded three:

1. Lollipops
2. Balloons
3. Stickers

Of course people are trying to be nice and keep your kid quiet put a smile on your kid's face, but I would like to ban all of the above items. 

Let's start with lollipops.  Sticky.  Potential chocking hazard as my children are not patient enough to lick or suck the lollipop and always chew them straight away. Bad for teeth (see last point on chewing instead of sucking) .  I wonder if I will get weird google searches from that.  Incites arguments about who gets what flavor and whether their lolly is better tasting, bigger, less gummy, whatever.  The icky wet paper stick gets left somewhere for you to sit on or try to extract from the carpet or the dog gobbles it up.  Kids with sticky hands are now in the car and touch everything including their hair and then cry that they are inadvertently pulling their hair out or have dirt stuck to them.  Wipes don't clean effectively (and/or kids won't use a wipe) so you have to find a sink to wash up in (not always available).  Because they chew them, the actually amount of time that the kids are occupied is about 1 minute.  Clean up equals 30 minutes.

Balloons seem harmless.  So bright and floaty and festive.  Except that there is the very real potential for the balloon to float away because children NEVER heed the grown-up warning that they will lose the balloon by not holding it securely enough.  Lots of crying and blaming to follow.  If the balloon does make it into the car you have to constantly remind your child that you will crash the car if they don't keep the balloon from coming into the front seat and blocking your view.  At home, the balloon becomes a weapon especially when there are two.  Which always leads to someone getting smacked in the face.  More crying.  Once again there is fighting over whose balloon is the better color or bigger or more round, whatever.  Oh and they can pop and scare the daylights out of everyone and then there are the pieces, which again are a chocking hazard and an environmental issue because they never decompose and animals eat them and get sick, right?  That rubber, latex smell is nauseating and leads me to look around wondering if the kids found the stash of condoms.  And the string, oh my, I envision it wrapped around my kid's wrist or neck and I have to cut it off of them before I end up in the ER with me lamely explaining that I thought balloons were fun, not dangerous.  Balloons are great for decorating but are not a toy. 

I hate stickers with a passion.  I've always hated stickers, because, quite simply, they are sticky.  They get stuck to your skin or the table or your clothes.  Peeling off stickers or price tags is one of my least liked activities.  I would go so far as to say I have a sticker phobia.  Don't come near me with them.   Kids love them.  Especially when they are a picture of their favorite character.  Well, most kids love them.  Scott does not and is always being offered one, which he thinks is a lame prize (he'd rather have a lollipop or a balloon).  People give very young children stickers, like at the grocery store, where I want to say, what are you dumb?  the kid is just going to eat it.  I mean, what is the big deal with stickers anyway.  So Jane likes them and puts them on her clothes which we then forget about and end up putting in the wash and now that you know how much I hate taking stickers off of things, well, you can imagine how I feel about scrapping the pieces out of the washer or dryer.  Once again the sticker thing creates arguments about who has which one and then someone loses theirs or it doesn't stick or now they want the other kid's sticker, whatever.  So if it doesn't get stuck to the bottom of my shoe or end up on someone's belly, then it gets stuck to paper at home and the kids lament the fact that they cannot now use it again.

Yeah, you are glad I am not your mother, or your kid's mother.  Sure, feel all smug that you are fun, but I know you secretly feel the same way.

Mom Evaluation From Her Preschooler

"Good job, Mommy, on getting me my Dora vitamins and Backyardigans band aids and jelly beans for when I use the potty.  You did a good job at the store today!"

Thanks for the good review, sweetie. 

Now if only you'd use the potty.  Then maybe I'd get a promotion (to what I wonder?).  Hey, there's the trick.  Maybe I can find a way for her to think she's training me!

Any suggestions?

I Want Some of What She's Having

I think someone slipped Jane a margarita or maybe a little pot because she was wasted at dinner tonight.

She had this big, sloppy smile on her face as she giggled and mumbled endlessly.  She was so loopy.  Matt kept making funny faces at me and then he egged her on by asking her questions or speaking nonsense back to her.  "Noooo, silly, I want icce ccrreeaam in a bowl, in a cone, see?"  Um, no I don't really see, Jane, how you can have the ice cream in the bowl and in the cone, but you are so gosh darn happy about it we'll do our best to accommodate your request.

She was clearly over tired but instead of falling apart like a toddler or even our other child would ordinarily, she was just enjoying the silly feeling she had.  I almost peed my pants laughing with her and especially at Matt's funny interaction.  He can be so much sillier than me and I think he gets such a kick out of her more easy-going nature.  Because dealing with Scott's heaviness all the time can be so draining.

Her behavior reminded me of the way my sister and I get sometimes.  Just so ridiculously silly that we can't stop laughing.  The crying and trying-not-to-wet-your-pants-gasping-for-air kind of laughing.  I suddenly saw Jane as an older girl, even a woman, who I might be friends with.  Giggling and sharing things and genuinely enjoying each others' company.

This is good because I also saw a flash forward to the college party girl.  When Jane was a little younger she went through a phase where she put her sippy cup on her head.  It conjured up an image of one of my sorority sisters who was famous for dancing while balancing a plastic cup of keg beer on her head.  Is that who she is going to be?  And if so, so what? 

She can be the one having fun.  Living life to its fullest.  Just being in the moment.  Scott and I can learn a lot from her.  She is the light to our darkness.  I love watching her enjoy herself, so happy to just be.

Scott and I can be the over-thinkers, burdened by analyzing and worrying.  Let Jane be Jane. 

We are all lucky to be able to watch her embrace silliness.  It made my day.

So I know I promised the BlogHer post but it is so hard to put it all down.  And this little moment with Jane, being able to record and share it, is really what blogging is all about.  I wanted to remember it.