Spinning Yellow

The Roof, the Roof, the Roof is on Fire!

Since my husband is now working from home, he can do some things during the day that he would not ordinarily.  On Thursday it looked like this outside:

 (can you see the ice on the tree?)


So he decided to make a fire.  Typically on Thursday's, I have a good chunk of the day to myself.  Jane goes to preschool and then Delilah picks her up for a playdate with Annie.  I usually run errands and, you know, do stuff without any children.  I look forward to Thursdays, especially now, during the holidays, when I am busy, busy, busy.  It is a fabulous arrangement. 

Except when Jane refuses to go to school.

Jane didn't want to go to dance class the day before, either.  Since she hadn't missed any classes and had been sick the day before, I let her stay home.  I hate to push about classes.  Maybe it was just an off day.  But the little voice inside my head said don't let her get away with it. 

Then the school thing.  I always say that you have to go to school or go to the doctor.  She screamed and cried and pitched a royal fit.  I finally gave in when she said she'd take a nap.  I figured she must still be sick and put her back in bed.

Normally she loooovves dance and school.  Can't wait to go.  I am hoping it is just some phase.  A combination of being tired, the holiday frazzles, and knowing that Daddy is home.  Lately, she is vaguely aware of time, saying, "is that this year?" when I tell her it is time to go to school.  Or announcing, "it is 17 o'clock, time for dinner!" at 8am.  When I say we have to go to dance, she thinks, when I am ready the class will be there.

I was not happy considering the long list of things I needed to do during the time she was supposed to be occupied.  But so it goes in the world of small children and mothers who think they will actually accomplish something.

As best as I could, I tried not to panic (dance costs a fortune and school is only 5 hours per week for crying-out-loud, you'd think she could go) and attempted to make the day super boring.  Constantly mentioning how she could have been at school having fun, or making a project, or whatever else I could dream up.  Maybe today they went on the stage and it was super fun.  Or it was so-and-so's birthday, I wonder what kind of treat they brought in?

I think she was on to me because she didn't bite at all.  Just asked to lie down and watch TV.

Anyway, Matt saw that she was home and decided to make the fire.  So it would be all cozy at home (he wasn't aware of my no fun plan).  In fact he asked Jane why she didn't go to school and she replied, "it's complicated."  Really.  He was stoking up the fire right around lunchtime when I heard him say, "Oh No!" 

I looked over and there were huge flames in the fireplace, the smoke detectors went off and the room filled with smoke.  Matt told me to call 911, "there's a fire in the chimney!"

I grabbed Jane and rushed over to my neighbor's house.  She has three kids and is great in any kind of crisis.  We heard sirens right away and went to the windows. 

I was glad that I was dressed when this happened, because I am often still in my pj's or a bathrobe.  I kid you not.  If my husband and I ever got divorced, number one on his rather long list of reasons why he was leaving me would be, "does not get dressed all day".

I live in a small town, one where all three fire trucks and several other emergency vehicles show up when you call.  Jane was happy to be playing with the neighbors and all the kids were watching with excitement as the trucks pulled up.  She was rehashing the events to them, "I had to get low and go, just like on Elmo Visits the Firehouse!"

I went back to our house, got the dog and put her in the neighbor's yard, then went to see how bad the situation was.  Turns out there wasn't a fire in the chimney.  It was just a back draft caused by moisture and wind and putting dry, real wood on top of an artificial log (not recommended by fire-fighters, apparently).  They tromped around a bit more and told us to move our Christmas tree back and basically that was it.  My mother showed up at some point because she was a few doors down at a cookie exchange.  "All the ladies want to know what's going on," she said as she slipped in her high heeled dress boots.

Another neighbor, a very nice older lady, was outside shoveling ice off of her walk and came over.  I met her on the driveway and explained the situation.  "Well, good thing your husband is home," she said.  I couldn't help but point out that if he hadn't been there, then there wouldn't have been a fire made at all.

Back at my neighbor's house, Jane was having a ball.  "Did you get my babies from my room?  I hope they are OK!"  she asked excitedly.  Libby, our dog, was running around inside their house, also having a grand old time.  My neighbor told me that Jane might as well stay so I could air out and clean up the house.  Her kids weren't going to school because the afternoon Kindergarten classes had been canceled.

Matt felt badly for Scott that he missed all the excitement.  But it was probably just as well.  He tends to panic.  The next night, while out for dinner in town, we heard sirens and Scott stiffened, "what's that?"  Jane said happily, "it's the police and fire trucks, just like at our house!"  Scott said, "Are we in trouble?  Are they coming for us?"  Yeah, better that he wasn't there.

My husband is embarrassed that he overreacted.  But I don't care about that.  I am only mad because this week, when Jane says she doesn't want to go to school or dance, I can't say, "Why would you want to stay home, it is so boring." 

She knows better.

Bedside Manner

Three year old princess begs for a bigger bed, "for all my stuff", meaning her stuffed animals, books, and whatever else she can bring into her toddler bed.

Parents finally give in and decide to buy her a regular-sized bed.

The whole family goes out on one of the busiest shopping days of the year to purchase a new bed.

Two hours later, two trips to the bathroom and a stop at Starbucks, the family arrives back home with a bed and a frame that needs to be assembled.

Crabby kids watch TV and play video games while parents try to set up bed.

Dad cuts his hand and mom yells at kids.

At 9pm (an hour past bed time) the bed is all fixed up, complete with princess sheets.

Little girl exclaims, "I love it!  Thank-you, Mommy and Daddy.  Thank-you!"

Fifteen minutes later as parents tuck the princess into her new bed, she shuffles around and says she is uncomfortable and scared.

"I want my old bed back."

Dad proceeds to lay on the floor next to the new big bed so that the princess can fall asleep.

Parents wonder why they spent money and time to arrive back where they started.

When I Grow Up

As part of the Star of the Week activities at Scott's school, each child answers questions asked by their classmates.  I saw this when I went in to observe last month.  The other day, seemingly out of the blue, Scott said, "why does the teacher ask what you want to be when you grow up during star of the week?"

"Huh?"

"It is always the last question, after all the kids are done, she always asks it.  How are we supposed to know?  We are only 6 or 7 years old.  I don't know if I want to be a sports guy or something else.  Don't you figure that out when you're like 25 or something?"

"Most people never really know, or change their minds several times.  I guess she thinks by asking she will know more about what you like to do.  But, I agree with you, I never knew how to answer that question when I was a kid, either."  Flashback to me at 10 years old wanting to be a professional baton twirler and my parents crushing my dreams by telling me that there was no such job.

"So, what should I say?"

Sensing that he felt pressured to be honest about something he couldn't answer, I offered an out, "you could say you don't know yet."

"No, she wants you to say something."

"Well, you could say a professional athlete, that's pretty standard for boys your age to say."

"What did you say when you were a kid, mom?"

"I used to say a teacher.  Teachers love when you say that because it means you want to be like them.  That's always a good answer."

"But it was true, right?  I mean you do want to be a teacher some day, don't you?"

How come that kid knows me better than I know myself?

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

While getting ready for bed, Jane was rearranging the things in her room for the umpteenth time.  I said, "maybe you'll be a decorator someday and fix up people's houses."

"No!  I just want to be a mommy."

"Aww, that's so sweet.  And you have a perfect role model with your mommy,"  Matt said.

"You know, Jane, you can be a mommy and a decorator,"  I chimed in.

"But you're just a mommy," she countered.

What kind of role model am I, exactly?

She's Becoming More Like Me Every Day

Me:  Jane, you need to clean this stuff up.  You can't just leave all your things on the sofa.  Where will we sit?

Jane:  You can sit on the floor, or go in the basement.

Me:  No.  I want to be able to sit on the sofa.

Jane:  But it's too hard to clean it all up.

Me:  Then you shouldn't have put it all there.

Jane:  You have to help me!  I can't do it all by myself!

Me:  Why not?  You put it all there by yourself.

Jane:  I have a headache of this!  All this work.  My leg hurts!  You need to calm me down!

I knew she was maturing before my eyes.  She's learning all my excuses.


** I wanted to write about the dentist visit, but it will have to wait until tomorrow.

Afternoon; Hijacked

Today started out pretty well. 

Yesterday my in-laws brought me brand new furry crocs.  This makes me so happy!!  I love my crocs because they are soooo comfortable and supportive.  I don't care if they are supposed to be fashionable or if they are popular, I wouldn't wear them for that reason.  What I do know is that they are the best pair of shoes I've ever had.  I also love slippers.  I hate cold feet and I don't like to wear dirty shoes in the house. 

Now I have the best of both worlds: fuzzy croc slippers!!!

OK, NaBloPoMo is beginning to wear on me a little, I am too tired to come up with much today, but I am trying...

So, as I was saying, the day started out well because I could pad around in my new shoes.  After Scott got on the bus, Jane and I went to the neighbor's house for a playgroup.  She played happily, I sat and talked.  Then we went home and it started to spiral out of control.

I was busy trying to get together the things I needed before we could run errands.  Plus I had some phone calls to make and get lunch and before I knew it, it was close to 2pm. 

I told Jane we had to get going, she needed to use the potty and then put her shoes on.  She balked.  "I don't have to go potty!  I don't want to go out!  I don't like my shoes!"

"I know you are tired, but we have a few things we have to do, like get something for dinner.  You'll get a lollipop at the dry cleaners.  Come on, we have to get going so we'll be home in time for the bus."

Cue big tantrum.  Yesterday she had a rip-roaring one, too.  In fact, there have been quite a few lately.

She finally calmed down and then peed all over the floor.

Then she didn't want to get dressed.

Now it was too late to do anything more than quickly get something for dinner.  Except she still fought and screamed.  Then she started to cough and wheeze.  Great.

Now I had to sit with her and calm her down before she had an asthma attack.  Yep, the whole afternoon was shot.

I remembered that developmental thing about the whole year time being full of compliance and organized behavior while the half year time is marked by disagreement, angst, turmoil.

This was so true of Scott.  Each year around his birthday in April, he'd be easy to live with (relatively) and then come fall, six months later, it seemed that he was falling apart and miserable.  With Jane it hasn't been as pronounced, but I still buy into this general premise of two steps forward, one step back.  As children are struggling through big developmental changes and leaps, they revert back to less mature behavior in other ways.

I will try to remember this tomorrow.  What is it that she will be doing soon?  What big leap is in store for us?  There must be a large step forward.  Because there sure has been some serious regression.

I Am Showing Her How to Be a Girl

Sometimes I wonder that since Jane is so girly and I am not, where she is figuring out how to be a girl.  She seems to be happy with her girly self and I try to embrace it (as best I can).  As I wrote about before, she loves to pick out her clothes and pretend to do girl stuff like go shopping.  She also likes all things princess, baby doll, pink & purple, and just about anything else that falls under this "girl" category.

Lately, she has been carrying around a purse.  Everywhere.  While playing in the backyard with Daddy, she suddenly had to stop and run onto the deck, looking for her purse.  "Where are you going?" he asked.  "I'm just putting on some lipstick," she yelled back.

Where does she get this from?  I know I am not showing her this stuff, but she just knows.  Sort of like how boys can turn anything into a weapon and start up a battle.  They seem to be born with "boy" and "girl" knowledge.

After Scott's first soccer practice, I was racing around at home trying to get things in order for bed.  It was late and I was mad that Matt hadn't set stuff up before he went out swimming.  "If I had been home, I would have turned on the lights, put out pajamas, fixed up toothbrushes, before I went out!" I murmured as I stomped around putting things in order. 

Scott knew I was mad, offered to help, and generally felt badly for me.  Jane didn't seem to notice and ran around oblivious to my complaints.

After the baths, I set up Jane's nebulizer.  She refused to sit and take the medicine.  I was already frazzled and desperately trying to get both kids to sleep.  A big fight ensued where I ended up yelling at her and chasing her into my room.  I grabbed her arm and forced her back into her room and made her take the medicine.

Once she calmed down and I was tucking her into bed, I apologized.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you.  I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"You hurt my arm."  She held up her arm as evidence.

"That was an accident.  If you hadn't run away I wouldn't have grabbed you." 

I tried again, "I'm sorry."

"Hmmp," she turned her head and looked away.

Incredulously, I tried one more time, "I'm sorry I hurt your arm."

Silence.

"OK, well, I love you.  Goodnight."

"Yeah, I love you too," she mumbled and turned away.

She wasn't going to let me off the hook!  Whenever I apologize to Scott he immediately says he's sorry, too and we hug it out.  I guess she was paying attention to all my stomping around and complaining after all.  So sorry to my future son-in-law.  Turns out, she is learning something about being a girl from me and it's not the pretty part.

The Cute Kid Stories Start Already

First, thank you to everyone who read, commented, sent e-mails, or called about our sad news from yesterday.  I am enormously appreciative of all your kind words, support and friendship.

Second, Matt was offered the job today which means we do not have to move.  More on that later, but this is good news. 

I am staying light today.  Here's a few of the zillions of adorable things that my kids have said or done recently.

Proof that she watches Dora, but doesn't exactly understand it:

On Halloween day, while Jane was prancing around in her glorified bathing suit/dance outfit/princess/fairy dress, I suggested she put on a sweater to keep warm.

Me:  Trying to get her to keep it on.  Oh that poncho looks so great with your costume!  

Jane:  Spins around a little for flair.  Thank-you, my darling.   

Me:  Smiling at her theatrical response. Your welcome, sweetie.

Jane:  Looking up to explain what she said.  "Darling" is Spanish for English.

Me:  OK, sweetie, whatever you say.

Proof that he's all boy:

After Jane's school pictures came home, Scott couldn't wait to check them out.

Scott:  Is that your teacher?  Eying up Jane's pretty, blond, tan, well-dressed teacher.

Jane:  Yes! So proud.

Scott:  Wow.  I would totally have a crush on her if she was my teacher.

Me:  Um, what?!?  Need I remind you that he is only 6!

Proof that she'll be fine even if she doesn't have a sister:

As we rounded the corner on our way to my mom's house and Jane realized that her friend, Annie, lives near by.

Jane:  Annie lives down there!

Me:  Yes, she does, sweetie.

Jane:  She's my bestest friend in the wholest, widest world!  And her sister, Kate, too!  She's my bestest friend in the wholest, widest world, too!

Me:  You are very lucky to have such great friends right here in your neighborhood, honey. 

Proof that boys look out for their mommies:

I recently had to take an antibiotic and had both kids with me when I pulled up to the drug store drive-thru.

Me:  After getting the pills and taking a look at them.  Damn.

Scott:  What?  What's wrong?!

Me:  Oh, I forgot to tell them to give me small pills.  You know, I don't like to take pills and it makes me kind of anxious to think I have to get 2 of these down each day for a whole week.

Scott:  Well, take them back.  You can't do it 14 times if it is too hard!

Me:  I'll be OK.  Grownups have to just deal sometimes.

Each day he asked me if I took the pill alright and then kept count of how many I had left. 

Scott:  It's been 3 days now.  You have 8 pills left.  Almost half way there.

Scott:  Only 4 pills left.  You are doing such a great job, mommy!

Scott:  Wow, you did it, they're all gone!

Me:  Thanks, sweetie!  It helped me a lot knowing that you were cheering me along. 

We Are Sick

Every fall we all get sick.  It usually happens at the end of September, but this year it is happening in the beginning.  It settled in right as school was starting.  I felt tired and achy and then the stuffed up nose and the cough.  And everyone else is the same. 

We've managed by taking lots of drugs and skipping things like going to playdates and running.  Jane is the one I worry about the most because for the past two years, her sickness has turned into something worse like bronchitis.  We have to really give her lots of meds and nebulizer treatments ("nebbie"s).

I think it has to do with the change in seasons and allergies.  The cough lingers on and makes people afraid to come near us.  But we are all getting better.  I went running on Friday and hope to be up to speed for my 10K race next Sunday.

Unfortunately, this ailment is not the only illness we have.  We each have some others:

Jane

She was bitten by the singing bug earlier in life, but has really been infected with the desire to perform.  I took her to her first dance class last week and it couldn't have been cuter.  The quintessential, straight backed teacher who had the girls dance around and at one point put on fairy wings.  Jane loved every minute of it.  If she could wear her leotard round the clock, she would.

She sings and dances constantly.  Mimicking movies and videos and also making up her own lyrics.  This is down right adorable but drives Scott crazy.  She likes to put on the same dress every day and then asks me to fix her hair with as many "prettys" as I can fit.  She looks at herself in the mirror, pleased, and announces, "I look bootiful."

I don't see her being cured any time soon (if ever).

She's also been inflicted with the "I need someone to help me fall asleep" sickness.  She likes to have her door open and call for us.  Over and over.  Matt usually gives in and lies down on the floor next to her bed and promptly falls asleep.

I think she'll get better on her own, although I know we can make her recovery faster by not giving in to her demands.

Scott

Right before school started he came down with the Peter Pan syndrome, complaining that he doesn't want to grow up.  He feels, now that he is away from home for more hours than he is awake here, that life is on a steady downhill slide.  He is upset about the lack of time he has to play outside, talk with me, watch tv, and generally do stuff at home.

"I'll never be little again and at home with you," he laments.  "I don't want to grow up.  Being an adult is bad!" 

"Will there ever be anything else that happens in my life that is as big as the first day of school?"

Yeah, I can think of a few, but I guess this is the biggest one for awhile.

In addition, he went quickly from being exhausted and overwhelmed by school to now having the disease known as over-confidence.  "School is easy.  I can do all the work already."

I think I might need to e-mail his teacher for a cure called "way harder school work."

Matt

He's been infected with the e-bay induced bike-swapping sickness.  This is a recurring, chronic illness for him.  One he generally gets when he is unhappy with his current bicycle for what ever reason and then starts trading out parts.  This time though he has it so bad that he bought a new bike that turned out not to be the right size, sold his current bike, sold the new bike, and now bought something similar to what he had to begin with.

This is a serious disorder that has no known cure.  It is not contagious, but does makes me completely crazy.

Me

I have Back to School Night-itis.  After two full weeks of the first day of school, the first day of soccer practice, the first soccer game, the first dance class, the first day at preschool and then back to back, back to school nights, I am totally spent.  Enough already. 

I have been waiting for the routine to begin so lets get on with it.  I like to know what my kids will be doing and find out their schedules but hours of meetings about it are not necessary.  Especially all at the same time.

Libby

The dog is almost 10 years old (70 in doggy years) and she sure is showing it.  A few weeks ago she was throwing up blood and we had to rush her to the vet.  She is sort of OK now, if you don't count the 4 times she needs to go out at night, the off and on bouts of stomach ailments, and the fact that she's never really, truly been well.  Oh, Libby, we love you, but you are one big needy, sickly, costly, pain in the ass.

Matt & I

This is the worst, most debilitating sickness of them all.  We both, at the same time, have caught the "let's throw caution to the wind, get liquored up, forget about birth control, and see if we end up with another baby" illness.

Yes, you read that right.

It is a sickness that causes you to lose your mind and neglect all the common sense you usually have.  You block out that the bread-winner is currently job-hunting, that the baby-carrier is almost 40, that we wanted to be able to afford to go to Disney World before 2015.

This is followed quickly by the sober reality that this was probably not a wise thing to do.

Primary symptom:  Nausea

And perhaps a little bit of excitement.

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?

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.