The Semi-Bionic Mommy

2011-03-27T23:22:00.003-04:00

I've been trying to finish reading this particular manuscript for nearly a week now... it's on the short side (only 180 pages), but it's just not. holding. my. interest. I feel like I need to turn in the completed press release tomorrow, but I cannot complete said release until I finish the damned book. It's been open on my laptop all evening; instead of reading this lovely tome, I've trolled oDesk for jobs, played Scrabble, read blogs, watched a movie on FX, considered showering, thought of snack options, decided I was too lazy to shower OR snack, congratulated myself on the latter, plotted what time I'd need to get up in the morning to get showered, wondered if I could get away without it for the morning, told myself ten times that I should really go to bed, researched pancake recipes for the cooking challenge (a sidenote: I've made THREE kinds of pancakes for the effing cooking challenge in the last couple of years, and now they've chosen pancakes for this month's challenge. Can I just refer everyone to my previous entries???), found a good recipe for a brunch I've been invited to in a month, made a grocery list in my head, considered getting up to get my phone to put the list somewhere that I could actually use it, rejected the notion of getting up from the couch, made a mental note to start the dryer again, and blogged. Looking at that list, I feel slightly more productive than I actually was. Jay and Natalie have been asleep for hours. I should join them. Especially if I plan to shower in the morning.

2011-03-22T20:08:00.003-04:00

I've been hard at work putting together my own personal literary sweatshop (tm my friend Seth-- I love the phrase, and it perfectly describes my pay). I've cobbled together three or four semi-regular things, and I'm writing bits and pieces on the side. I've enjoyed this tremendously. However, my study time for the CCA exam has been DRASTICALLY reduced as I commit myself to write more. I've intended to study the last couple of mornings, but instead I found myself pounding out five articles on the topic of personal finance (250 words per article, at 2 cents a word-- yes, that is TWO CENTS, as in two pennies) instead of boning up on the art of medical coding. I've decided to view this time of low-paying work as an internship of sorts. I'm becoming familiar with the rhythm of copy writing, and I'm learning how to write about pretty much anything thrown at me. Above all, it's fun. This evening, as Jay and Natalie played on the Wii, I wrote 500 words about the difference between antihistamines and decongestants. It was fabulous. I felt such a sense of accomplishment for 45 minutes of work, a sense of accomplishment that has been gone from my day-to-day life for the last few years. Being a mom is tremendous, the best thing I've done, but you don't get a lot of positive feedback. I'd love to have a formal performance review once a year. When Nan was small, that's how I viewed visits to the pediatrician... when she grew, I felt like I'd gotten a great review. Dr. O had no idea how much my self-esteem depended on her casual, "Looks good, mom!" As the kid gets bigger and ventures out into the world on her own, I have to find something else to give me that feeling. This might be it.

2011-03-17T22:59:00.004-04:00

So today was the big kindergarten roundup... and, honestly, it was kind of a let-down. It was just a bunch of paperwork. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I guess I was expecting more. (Lassos? Horses? The roundup terminology is confusing...) We get to go back in mid-April in the evening, so she can get a look at the classroom and we can get a crack at the teachers. I /did/ manage to grab the PTO materials, and I've been trying to decide how I can be of service there. Nan did a beautiful job, waiting quietly for me to finish the eighteen tons of paperwork. She made a friend over by the pile of My Little Ponies, though (of course) she couldn't tell me her name twenty minutes later. That's her father-- I remember everyone in my third grade class. I'm lucky Jay remembers MY name.

2011-03-16T22:22:00.002-04:00

Tonight, Nan and I discussed the sibling issue for the first time. Specifically, her lack of siblings. She was sharing the details of her future with me at bedtime, and she said she planned to have at LEAST two children, maybe more. Because the kids might get lonely. Tenatively, I asked her if SHE ever wished she had a brother or sister. "Yeesssss..." she said, eying me with hope. I explained that she was the only kid in our family, and that was how it was going to stay. "Why?" Hmm. How much information is TOO much for five? "Uh, well, Mommy and Daddy had a really tough time getting you, and because of Mommy's health problems, we decided to stick to one kid." "What are health problems?" Oy. "You know how Mommy has arthritis? Stuff like that." I doubt the kid would understand "minimally invasive hysterectomy". She seemed content with the explanation, and we discussed the many pros to being the only kid in the house. But she still plans to have many children. And if they want a dog? "Heck YEAH I'll get them a dog." I'm duly chastened.

2011-03-15T22:14:00.002-04:00

My kid is five, and this is the first time daylight savings has actually disrupted her sleep. She's been staying up at least an hour past her usual bedtime, and it's about to kill me. KILL ME DEAD. And I, in turn, am ready to kill the genius who thought up daylight savings DEAD. I don't care if he's dead already. I'll get 'im again. This simply highlights the fact that I have made a wise choice in stopping at one kid, a kid who was an excellent sleeper at that. I HATE disruption to the master schedule. Luckily, Nan usually hates it, too. I assume this will be short lived. I assume she'll be asleep before 10pm sometime in the near-ish future.
Anyway. Nan has recently discovered a deep love of chocolate-chip bagels. I find this to be delightful. Personally, and I know this is sacrilege, but I prefer bagels to doughnuts. Shh. Don't tell my husband. He and Nan have a tradition of doughnuts on Saturdays, and I would love to sway her to bagels.

2011-03-14T10:38:00.005-04:00

This is the time of year I dread... show choir season. My husband directs the band that accompanies the show choir, thus my husband accompanies the band that accompanies the show choir on alllll the trips to the various competitions the group attends-- most of them are in the state, but they've got a few that become overnight trips. And if the choir actually makes it to the finals of the competition? They might not make it home until the wee hours of the next day. I know, deep down, it's wrong to hope they don't make it... and yet. It's nice when he's home before 10pm. On top of the lost weekends, we also have the weeknight rehearsals. And the hours of arranging he does before the rehearsals begin. I'm glad my husband loves his job; he's one of the few people I know who genuinely enjoys going to work every day. He loves working with kids, and he loves, as he says, "being paid to play the guitar all day". But it's ROUGH on me, and rough on the kid. She misses her dad. They've got one more competition to go. We can make it.
In other news, my kid will be a kindergartner as of Thursday. We head to her elementary school for Kindergarten Roundup. She's excited, with good reason. We drive past the school on a regular basis so she can gaze at it with longing-- she cannot WAIT to go to big kid school. I cannot believe my baby's going to be riding a school bus in the fall. She's small! It's big! I'm lame.

2011-02-02T21:58:00.004-05:00

We've been trapped in our house since Monday evening, and I don't forsee gaining our freedom anytime soon. The ice! Oh, woe, the ice... it started Monday evening, just as Nan and I were heading to her gymnastics class, and it turned into several inches of ice covered by a thin layer of snow by Tuesday morning. Blergh. We've had two "pajama" days, and today Jay mustered up his courage and tackled the driveway in case he has to go to work tomorrow. After hours of work, he managed to chip half of the driveway clear, and just as he declared himself finished for the day the school system called to alert him to tomorrow's closing. Tomorrow is Miss Nan's fifth birthday, so we're kind of glad to have him home... Nan in particular is THRILLED she can open her presents first thing in the morning rather than waiting for Daddy to come home from work. We hope to go out for a celebratory dinner tomorrow night, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to send Jay out again tomorrow, despite the frigid temps. Another benefit of Jay's continued presence is the fact that we have yet ANOTHER leak in a hot water pipe in our bathroom, so he is able to turn the hot water off when it's not in use throughout the day. Sigh. I'm tired of the endless problems with our plumbing, but moving is not an option at this time. Fortunately, I can call our ol' pal Santa the Plumber, and I hope we can get the problem resolved before my surgery next week. Jay fears it's in the bathroom floor, but I will remain hopeful that it's accessible through the hole in the closet. (The fact that we HAVE a hole in the closet that can access the plumbing is a bit disheartening... but I will ignore that for now.)
It's hard to believe that my girl will be five tomorrow. Five years sounds like such a long time, but it feels like she was born just a few days ago. She's quite amazing, and I'm so proud of my big kid. We have a party scheduled at a local bounce place, and, provided we are able to dig ourselves out, we will be greeting much of her class there at 10am. I have plans to create "pupcakes", cute puppy cupcakes, and I'm considering making some bone-shaped sugar cookies to go in the kids' goody bags. We'll see how motivated I feel tomorrow. Nan is beyond excited-- she can't wait to play with all her friends. I'm ready to see all of my planning come to fruition. It's been on my mind for months, and I'm kind of ready for it to be finished, with a happy and exhausted kid.

2011-01-27T22:21:00.004-05:00

This has been kind of a weird week. For starters, we were awaiting news of my dad's medical condition. He called me last Friday to tell me he was heading to the hospital with unendurable pain, and he couldn't reach my mom on her cell phone (duh-- she's a teacher-- she doesn't leave the phone on during school hours), and he thought SOMEBODY should be informed of his movements. I offered to pick him up, but was rebuffed. After I hung up with him, I called Mom's school and spoke to her, letting her know where he was an that he expected her to join him ASAP. She sighed, and promptly found a sub. I picked Nan up from school and waited for news. Turned out it wasn't a kidney stone as he suspected, but instead a mystery illness. The staff at the hospital sent him home with vicodin and instructions to make an appointment with his GP for Monday morning. He was miserable all day Saturday, and Sunday morning my mom called and instructed us to stay home that evening--"Dad's a mess, and you don't wanna be here" was the exact quote. But, he improved as the day went on, and he went to work without incident on Monday. He saw his doctor on Tuesday, and they suspect it's a gallbladder issue. When he feels the slightest twinge in his back, he's to call the doctor immediately and they'll test him right away. We were fearing that he'd need surgery this week, but it seems that he's okay for the present. Because I am a horrible, terrible, no-good very bad daughter, my first thought was, "Shit. We've scheduled Nan's birthday party for Sunday the 30th. If Dad has surgery this week, we won't be able to have the party at their house." And I immediately launched into Plan B mode-- what will need to be done to change the party to the next weekend, how much will the SuperBowl effect our plans, etc. But, it appears that all is well. Unless he has a crazy relapse in the next 24 hours or so (knocking wood furiously), it should be fine. My new fear is that Dad and I will have to have surgery on the same day, and my mom will be forced into a horrible 'Sophie's Choice'-esque dilemma, as she's supposed to take care of Nan while I'm in the hospital. I /always/ have something to worry about. I did get to go to Muncie on Wednesday, to the weekly Girl's Night Out meeting with my sister and some friends. It was awesome, and it reiterated how much I wish I lived there. It would be amazing to be able to go there weekly, and talk and laugh with those girls. My FACE hurt from laughing so much. I cannot remember the last time that happened. It needs to happen a little more often.

2011-01-20T10:54:00.003-05:00

Today is Thursday, which means Pajama Day at our house. It's the only day that Nan's not in school, and, unless there's an ill-planned appointment, we stay HOME. We stay home and we stay in our pajamas, or, in Nan's case, in the costume of our choice. She's currently wearing a leotard, footless tights, and snow boots. She looks fabulous. She's curled up on the couch, under her tinkerbell blanket, absorbing Elmo with great intensity as she rocks her baby du jour. Today's baby is the stuffed My Little Pony, Sweetie Belle. As my friend said, "How on EARTH do you sleep with that thing in the house? It looks positively EVIL." She's not wrong. It's a creepy looking thing with anime eyes who pretends to suck a pacifier (complete with kind of yucky sucking noises) and constantly professes her love for her "mommy". Nan has refused to be her mommy-- she claims this hellspawn is mine. They're simply sisters. "Sister" is her highest commendation-- if she pretends you are her sister, you are a special person to her. My mom is the most frequent recipient of this largesse, but my cousin was deemed worthy the other day. Times like that I feel a little twinge of guilt that she doesn't HAVE a real sister, but then I see how she treats her "sisters", and I realize that it's probably for the best. She can be rather dictatorial. She'd need to have a MUCH younger sister-- someone who wouldn't balk at her bossiness. I'm quite certain my sister has a lot to say on that subject-- Nan didn't get this from nowhere. I nearly ended a playdate early yesterday because Nan was FREAKING OUT about the way her friend was playing--it wasn't as she'd planned it, and a meltdown ensued. Part of it was due to Nan's extreme exhaustion (poor sleep the night before + no nap= crabby child), but part of it was control freakiness to the twelfth degree. Sorry, kid. I took her aside and spoke to her for awhile, and eventually the girls were playing nicely again. Nan and her friend, B., generally play very well together. They're both only children, so B.'s mom and I like them to get together and learn to share on a regular basis. Sometimes it's successful, sometimes not so much. I have learned that I have a very limited capacity for noise and mess-- perhaps it's best that I have only one kid. A couple of hours of chaos are more than I can handle. I spend my time following the children in a fruitless attempt to pick up the toys in their wake, and I end up crabby and bedraggled. Usually, I make cookies in an attempt to stop myself from bothering the children, and that works for awhile. Plus, I feel all June Cleaver-esque serving the children warm cookies and milk. And that's a good feeling, for a little while.

2011-01-18T22:01:00.002-05:00

As I get older, I find myself enjoying spicier food. Is it my tastebuds deadening? Have I always had a taste for the spicy, but I feared it? I dunno. All I know is I rendered a perfectly lovely pot of spaghetti carbonara inedible for the kid when I got too crazy with the red pepper. I thought it was yummy, but she claimed it "made her tongue hurt" and wiped her tongue with her napkin after the few bites she tried. Ah, well. More for us. Tonight, I made a CRAZY hot pot of jambalaya, with super spicy andouille sausage and enough Creole seasoning to choke a cow. Small girl ate a tuna sandwich-- I didn't even try to get her to eat it. Since I've had the stress fracture in my left foot, dinner has been more utilitarian, and we've been eating in the living room. As I heal, I'm able to stand in the kitchen for longer stretches and thus our meals have improved. If I were smart, I'd start freezing food for next month. After years of "issues", my ob/gyn and I have decided it's time for the ol' uterus to go. I am fortunate that my doctor is among those surgeons who are trained to perform the minimally-invasive version of the procedure, and thus the recovery time will be more than halved, but it's still surgery. There will be a week or so when I won't be up for cooking. And tuna casserole will lose it's appeal after a few nights, I imagine-- tuna casserole is the extent of Jay's cooking talents. Don't get me wrong, it's damn fine tuna casserole. But still.
As I type, I'm listening to my poor kid hack her lungs up. I'm hoping it will subside soon, but it doesn't sound good. I called the doctor today, and they suggested over-the-counter cough syrup. Duh. I'm not new-- I've tried that already-- and it hasn't been effective. They said call tomorrow if she's still having issues. So I get a sleepless night and a cranky kid tomorrow because they were hesitant to call in a cough syrup that would help her sleep? Whatev. I'm usually really happy with our pediatrician's office, we're usually very much on the same page, but I really wish they'd listened to me today. Not looking forward to the night.

2011-01-16T11:52:00.002-05:00

I've had a very relaxing weekend... it was necessary, for me and for the kid. She's been stuffy and sneezy since before Christmas (and the sneeziness wasn't improved by our stay at Casa del Cat over the holidays), and I finally submitted and took her to the pediatrician. Our beloved Dr. O found that the child had a double ear infection, and general malaise. Mom of the year, right here. She wasn't running a fever, and she didn't complain, so it never occurred to me that the snot might have migrated to her ears. Ah, well-- she's on antibiotics (again), and a couple of days of rest have restored her to her former self. With occasional symphonic sneezes. Now, she's playing an elaborate game with her stuffed animals-- some are bad guys, and are being jailed in her play kitchen, specifically in the stove. She's tossed whole families of animals into her "jail" for crimes as vague as, "Umm... they were going to steal some of my stuff." Now, the jail is morphing into a more desirable place to be-- the animals are lining up to leap into the stove. Wait-- no-- now it's a bathroom. All the "kids" have to go potty. It's hard to keep up. I love to listen to her play, especially when she's not aware I'm listening. It's fascinating, and endlessly entertaining. I get a pretty good sense of what she hears at school, and I also get a reflection of how I speak to her. Usually, I'm pretty happy with it. Sometimes, I cringe, and make mental notes to stop using a specific phrase or tone. Okay. I have three loads of laundry to fold, and another load in the dryer. Relaxation time is over. Back to work.

2011-01-14T11:03:00.002-05:00

The plumber arrived, just after the kid went down for her nap. They poked and prodded in the hole in the closet, and determined that the pipe wasn't accessible by the pre-dug hole, so they decided to come back the next day to dig anew. In the meantime, I was charged with the task of emptying the closet to give them space to dig. My mother had planned to visit in the evening, so I put her to work, and between Mom, Nan and myself we managed to get the closet cleared very quickly. I decided to go ahead and clear the space by the outer wall of the closet-- the part of the living room where Nan has her craft table. This was a bigger job. I was able to sort and toss the unnecessary stuff, and put the stuff she really loves in a more accessible spot. It took a little time, but it was nice to get it done. When the guys arrived this morning, they feared they would have to yank the vanity and knock a hole in the wall, so I set to work clearing the cabinets under the vanity. This took longer than I anticipated, and I unearthed crap that I forgot existed. Crap that should've been tossed years ago, so I decided to look upon this as an opportunity to purge. Fortunately, the guys determined that they wouldn't need to get all destruct-y in my bathroom, and they were able to access the pipe through the NEW hole in our closet. Our closet floor is looking rather like swiss cheese these days. Both the guys recommended that we put our house on the market-- easier said than done, friends. Do y'all want to come and replace our carpet, put in new molding, repaint the living room and the bedroom? If so, c'mon over and take care of it! We'd welcome you with open arms! Oh-- and also? Fill the holes in the closet while you're at it...

2011-01-13T09:49:00.002-05:00

I'm at a bit of a crossroads. I've finished my medical billing and coding classes-- almost two years after beginning, it took about a year longer than anticipated-- and now I am awaiting the membership paperwork to AHIMA, the association that administers the certification exam for coders. When the membership comes through, I will get a discount on the exam and the study materials. In the meantime, I've been flipping through my dusty coding books and panicking. When I'm not doing that, I'm trolling the medical coding jobs on CareerBuilder and panicking. I'm afraid. I'm afraid I won't be able to find a job, and if I do find a job, I'm afraid I won't be able to work from home, and if I DO find a work from home job, I'm afraid I won't do it well. I find myself drifting toward the safe, familiar accounting jobs. I find myself contemplating part-time receptionist work. All these choices loom, and it's scary. Nan goes to kindergarten in the fall. She'll be leaving the safe harbor of her familiar preschool and jumping into the big-kid school. I know she'll be great-- she's excited, and she makes friends easily-- but the prospect of my baby being thrust into this big building induces anxiety in me. I cannot imagine her boarding a school bus-- they're so big! She's so small! I have about eight months to really work myself up into a frenzy about this.
In the meantime, there are other worries. We are awaiting the arrival of the plumber. Our plumber is lovely. He looks like Santa Claus, and is just as friendly. He's been coming to our aid since we had our first big leak in our slab, when I was very pregnant with the girl. He's reasonably priced, and generally reliable. However, I have just learned from his equally lovely wife that he was called away on an emergency. A more significant emergency than my wet closet. Sigh.

2009-11-07T11:43:00.002-05:00

I had a lovely evening with my dear friend last night. Sue has been my friend for nearly 20 years, and we always have so much fun. We sat and shared dinner and beer, and when the restaurant closed at 10, we stood outside and talked until we became too cold to continue. Otherwise, we probably would've stood for another two hours and talked. We could talk forever. Literally. We would never, never run out of conversation. It's lovely. I came home to a relatively clean house, kid in bed, and husband nearly asleep on the couch. And, even better, I only got one call while I was out-- and it was legitimate, a question about Nan's medicine. But best of all? Jay got up early this morning, got Nan dressed and fed, and took her to the Children's Museum so I could finish up the ethics class I'm taking. WOOOOO! It makes it easier for me to handle his absence through the week when I know he'll take up the slack on the weekend. The kid misses her dad. The had a good evening last night, and I'm sure they're having a lot of fun at the museum today. And, it gives me a chance to miss my kid-- something every mom needs on occasion. I finished my ethics exam, and think I passed with flying colors. I'm looking forward to starting the actual meat of my program-- the coding and the billing. Hopefully, this will motivate me to move a bit quicker through the classes, and I can accomplish my goal of completing the course of study before February.
Lately, my child has been agitating to stay at the after-care at her preschool. Apparently, her best friend J gets to stay, and it's Shangri-La and Disneyworld all rolled into one fantastic package. They get to watch MOVIES! and bring a SPECIAL! BLANKET! and sit with their BEST! FRIEND! and clearly I'm a BAD MOM for not letting her stay. Why won't I let her stay? Why don't I want her to be happy? Finally, I have relented, and I signed her up to stay after on Monday. She's beyond excited, and has already chosen the blanket she wants to take with her. Fortunately, J's name was on the list, too, so her happiness should be complete. We'll see how happy she is when it's an hour past her usual naptime and she's not home in her bed. Or rather, we'll see how happy I am when she's napless and overexcited. Stay tuned.

2009-11-05T11:46:00.002-05:00

I took Nan to the doctor this morning. She's had some questionable-looking toenails for some time now, and I decided to ignore her suggestion that we simply just avoid touching them until they feel better. I was right-- her big toes have infected nails, and the doctor recommended that we give her an antibiotic and soak the toes in epsom salts, then head to a podiatrist(!!) to get the nails cut. As the doctor said, "I don't wanna mess with that." When she prescribed the antibiotics, I heaved a huge internal sigh. Nan HATES the taste of the antibiotics, and we haven't found a flavor that makes it more palatable. And this particular medicine is to be taken THREE TIMES A DAY for TEN DAYS. Not sure what I've done to Dr. O to make her hate me, but it must've been bad. I broke out the bubble-gum flavored bottles from the pharmacy bag, and Nan started backing away, shaking her head "NOOOO" and covering her mouth with both hands. I used my firmest voice to order her to stay still and try it, and she let half a teaspoon dribble out of her mouth as she wailed at the injustice of being forced to take such swill. I sternly ordered her to the sink, where I washed us both off and administered the remainder of the dose. Sigh. Looking forward to repeating this three times a day for ten freaking days. But, we did manage to hit the office on a day that they had H1N1 flu-mist available, so she's vaccinated. And it was painless. Thank God. I'm a little irritated that I, as a person with a suppressed immune system, cannot go the mist route for my vaccination this year, but must be stuck with the needle. No fair. I find I'm dragging my feet in finding somewhere to get myself vaccinated-- I do so hate needles, and I have never taken the flu vaccine before. But. This year's strain is particularly bad, and if I get sick, I can't take care of the kid. That's the ONLY reason I've entertained the thought of getting one. I suppose I should suck it up and call our family doctor, and try to get in one morning while Nan's at school. It sucks to be a grownup.

2009-11-03T09:13:00.002-05:00

I have decided to attempt to participate in NaBloPoMo... we'll see if I can do it. I'm already behind, as I didn't post on the 1st, but hey! Two in a row! Go, MEEEE! I woke this morning at 7am, which is remarkable, as my daughter's eyes generally function like those pop-up timers in turkeys-- at 6am, her eyelids pop open and she's ready to party. I, however, am markedly un-ready to party at 6am. As are most humans. So, I blearily turn on the TV (thanks, 24-hour NickJr!) and roll over to snooze to the sounds of 'Ni Hao, Kai Lan'. Which can make for some kooky dreams. Anyway. This morning, she decided to give her mama a break, and I awoke when I became aware that the sun was up, and Nan wasn't. Then, I did a little happy dance in my head and went back to sleep. I love the days where we don't have to be anywhere at any particular time, and I am becoming aware that these days are numbered. Next year, she'll be at preschool four days a week, and then-- kindergarten! Where she has to be up, fed, dressed, and ready to roll EVERY DAY of the week, which means I have to be up, dressed, and relatively ready EVERY DAY of the week. Yikes. I know I've got some time before this is the new normal-- like, almost two years-- but! But! It's something I haven't had to consider since she was an infant, and I was working outside of the house. The panicky feeling it instills is interesting, and unpleasant. Apparently my own brand of control-freakiness extends to being master of when I leave the house. Time to deal with that later.
Nan is going through the most delightful dress-up phase. I've had each meal with a different creature lately-- the last two days, it's been a unicorn. Later today, it could be a princess. Or a cowgirl. Or a police officer. Is it bad that I'm considering making another visit to Target to see what's left of the clearance costumes? My sister and I loved to pretend, and dress up, and if we'd had the costume trunk Nan has? Oh, my. Our tiny minds would've exploded.
Nan is pretending to be Mommy now-- Mommy dressed as a unicorn, but Mommy all the same-- and she keeps calling me "Hons", which, in my mind, sounds like "Huns", as in Atilla the, so I have a little giggle every time she addresses me. And now it's time for Nanny Mom and her Hons (or Huns) to go grocery shopping.

2009-11-02T16:38:00.003-05:00

Soooo. It's been awhile. School started, for Jay and for Nan, and things have not slowed down since. I didn't make my goal of finishing my classes before Jay started back-- in fact, I've only accomplished 1 3/4 of a class since the beginning of August. I need to step it up, but I find myself exhausted by the basic maintenance the family requires. I'm hoping that I can sort of re-commit myself to my goal of finishing in the next two or three months-- I need to quit making breakfast and lunch dates on Natalie's school days, and sequester myself with my book and my Ipod. There. Resolution established on a semi-public forum... perhaps that can keep me honest. Halloween engulfed most of the month of October. We're fans, apparently, of the whole dress-up thing. Natalie wore two different costumes to the various parties and outings we attended in October-- she was a Barbie Princess (very different from the run-of-the-mill princess, she will have you know) and then she decided on her old standby, the Supergirl costume, for the actual night of trick-or-treating.

The costume came with fancy booties that cover her shoes, lending the appearance of those awesome knee-high red and gold boots, but she refused to consider wearing them, even when Jay and I begged, wheedled, and pleaded with her. Three is stubborn. And Three doesn't want your stinking booties. But I love her pose-- she would stop periodically and do these hilarious contortions, usually with one arm out in front of her and her feet planted far apart, as if she were going to stop any evildoers with one hand. Silly girl. She's been wearing the Supergirl costume nearly every day for the last three or four weeks. However, last night we stopped to browse the post-Halloween clearance at Target, and found a contender to replace Supergirl in her affections-- Wonder Woman. This costume is fantastic. It comes with the dress, the crown, the MAGIC BRACELETS, and, of course, the damned booties that she'll refuse to wear even though they make the outfit look so. much. cooler. She's having a ball dressing up, and I like to indulge her in this, as it won't be long before she'll be too self-conscious to dress like a nutball in public. And, as a dear friend once reminded me, it's not as if people think I dressed her in these outlandish getups before heading to the grocery store-- they know it's allllll her, and if they've had a three-year-old, they know there wasn't much I could do about it.

2009-07-25T23:07:00.003-04:00

The end of July is creeping closer, and that freaks me out. When July is over, it will be August. August is when Jay goes back to school, and becomes immersed in all the extracurricular stuff that he loves, and that keeps him from home. August is when I have to figure out how to keep up with my schoolwork while I handle all the childcare and most of the household duties. August means stress. I'm not ready for that to begin again. It will help when Nan goes back to school in mid-September, but I'm afraid it will be a long four weeks until then. I'm /pretty/ sure the preemptive freakout isn't the best way to stave off stress, but I can't help it. This is how my mind works in the middle of the night, when I should be asleep. Anyway. We just got back from a lovely, too-brief, vacation in scenic Cincinnati. We actually had a great time at a great resort close to King's Island. We went to KI one morning, and in truth, I think our time would've been better spent at the water park back at the hotel. Nan is at an age where the unknown creates tremendous apprehension, so the amusement park is not the best place for her. But, we had a lot of fun at the hotel. She slept beautifully in an unfamiliar place, and enjoyed spending time with my family. Oh, and according to her, the best part was the fact that she got to eat at McDonald's not once, but TWICE. Truly luxurious living. Lately, when it's time to leave the house, she says, "Ok, let's rock and roll!" I have no idea where she got that, but it makes me laugh. Since we got back, she has created a stuffed animal family that she plays with all the time. There's Lady, the dog from the Disney movie, as the mom; King, a dog purchased at King's Island by Grandpa, is the dad; Amy, the elephant, is the elder sister; Laura, a kitty, is the younger sister; and finally, there's Baby Brother, a little puppy who doesn't get a real name, "because he's just a baby, Mom". This family goes on adventures throughout the house, and you must not try to put ANY of them away prior to bedtime, or there will be great distress. She puts them to bed properly, and wakes them first thing in the morning, before she comes to find me, even. Which has been kind of nice for us-- the longer the wakeup takes, the longer Jay and I get to sleep. Excellent.

2009-06-21T00:15:00.002-04:00

It's after midnight, and Nan will be waking around 6:30am. Why, oh why, am I still up? I have trouble getting to sleep when Jay's away-- though, I confess when I actually GET to sleep it's more comfortable-- and I find myself putting off the whole bedtime process in anticipation of lying awake for hours. So I watch crappy tv and drink cheap wine and play Bejeweled on Facebook 'til my hand turns into a claw. (85,000-- booyah.) Jay's been gone for a few days now-- he's at a bluegrass festival-- so Nan and I have been on our own. We've had a nice time. I love the fact that she's becoming good company. We had dinner at a deli, and I really enjoyed chatting with her. We talked about nonsense, as usual, but she's fun and funny. I knew I'd love my kid, but I'm so glad I like her so much. We ran a few errands, and then hit the playground until it was time to head home to get ready for bed. I stopped and got us a McFlurry to share, and as we ate it, she told me, "Mommy, you're my favorite friend!" Try not to die from the cute. Classes are progressing for the medical billing and coding program-- in fact, I knocked out the medical terminology class in just over two weeks. I will take the final on Monday or Tuesday, and be that much closer to my goal of completing before Jay goes back to school in the fall.

2009-04-25T09:18:00.002-04:00

The sun is shining, the temperature is climbing into the 80's, the birds are singing... Spring has made things better around here. We've been healthy for a month (knocking wood feverishly), and my attitude has improved one thousand percent. Last night, we bought Natalie a new sand and water table-- it's quite nifty, with gears and slides and various other fun stuff that will hopefully entertain her for hours outdoors. Just being able to go outside and play has helped us in the last few weeks. I have also made an effort to get out on my own-- I got to see the live broadcast of 'This American Life' with friends. It was awesome, and I enjoyed the pre-show meal as much as the show. It was so nice to eat without a 3yo hanging off my arm. The girl has a new habit of "helping" me eat-- she thinks it's HYSTERICAL to hold my elbow and guide my hand to my mouth. Not such a great idea when I'm eating something like soup. She's still a major mommy girl, but she's become receptive to visiting Grandma overnight again. Hurray! I can dump the kid without the guilt. She's looking forward to visiting "Grandpa Bear"-- her new nickname for my dad. She becomes Daphne the Dog Superhero, and wrestles with Grandpa Bear. It's fun for both of them. Until my dad stops listening... then Nan has to put him in time-out. Hee.

2009-03-30T19:38:00.003-04:00

I have pneumonia, which means I will not be able to go with my dear friend Elizabeth to see David Sedaris speak tomorrow evening. I am heartbroken on several levels. It's been months since I've done anything FUN. Literally. Months. Two. I'm tired of sick. I'm tired of, well, tired. I'm hoping April will be better than the suckhole that was March. The good news is that Nan's allergy panel came back negative-- nothing to worry about there. And she's definitely on the mend, with just the occasional cough. It's starting to warm up outside. Maybe that will usher the funk out of my house.

2009-03-24T21:52:00.005-04:00

Yesterday morning was one of the longest mornings of my life. I had to take my baby to the hospital to have blood drawn and her chest x-rayed. The doctor believes her asthma is allergy related, and she wants to do the full allergy workup. Sounds simple in theory, but the hospital was crazy. It took us 45 minutes to register, and another 30 minutes of waiting for the chest x-ray. She was a champ, smiling for the "camera" while the technician took pics of her lungs. Then, we waited for over an hour for the dreaded blood draw. Nan played in the lobby, not understanding what awaited her. This was almost as painful as what was to come-- she got bored and antsy, and couldn't stop herself from touching the light installation that looked like a fountain. She ran from me when I called her, and raged at me when I dragged her back to our bench. The receptionist eventually took pity on me, and offered her a coloring book and crayons. This kept her busy for the last part of our wait. They finally called our name, and led us back to the "child friendly" draw site. There was a very nice phlebotomist awaiting us, and she immediately turned on the Curious George movie-- one of Nanny's favorites. Natalie wandered around the room, looking at the funny-looking benches, and chatting with the phlebotomist. Finally, the lady told us to sit on the bench-- I was instructed to sit on her right side, and hug her to me, effectively keeping her right arm trapped against her side. Nan cuddled against me, and listened as the phlebotomist explained what she was doing. She was fine until the needle actually went in her arm. There was a silence as Nan sucked in all the air in the room, and then she screamed, "OW, OW, OWWWWWWWIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" And the sobbing commenced. She wiggled, and tried to slide off the bench. I rocked her and tried not to cry myself. They had to take THREE VIALS of my baby's blood-- the needle looked ENORMOUS in her tiny arm. When it was finally finished, she wept as the nurse put the bandaid on her arm, and she cried all the way down the hall. Grandpa had slipped me a ten the night before, telling me to buy her something at the giftshop after the tests were completed. Through her tears, she chose a little black and white stuffed kitty, and snuffled out to the car. Minutes after we left the hospital parking lot, she was passed out cold in the back seat, clutching her teddy and her new kitty. I'd promised McDonald's for lunch as the lady took her blood, so I swung through the drive-thru and got her a happy meal. She woke up crying, and ate her fries as she wept. She was ready for her nap after a few fries, and she slept like a rock. The doctor's office called in the afternoon, and told me that her lungs looked "streaky", indicating the croup. The doctor called in a steroid, and we're hoping the nonstop coughing will come to an end someday soon.

2009-03-20T14:40:00.003-04:00

Nan has another double ear infection, and the doctor thinks she's hit upon the reason for Natalie's persistent cough. She thinks it's asthma. We've got to start twice-daily inhaler treatments. They gave us a nifty new inhaler-- it's got a mask that looks like a duck, and she's very impressed by that. I explained that the duck is her new friend, and she needs to give him a BIG kiss twice a day. We practiced without the medicine, and I think she's going to be okay. This is the good part. On Monday, I've got to take her for a chest x-ray and full blood workup. This is the bad part. She hasn't had blood drawn since she was born. I get teary thinking about the needle approaching my baby. Hopefully, we'll get these relatively minor issues resolved, and the coughing will stop. The doctor noted that Natalie's had five ear infections since October-- if she gets another one in the next month or so, she'll be referred to the ENT. Do tubes loom in the future? One more worry in my busy brain. At any rate, I'm hoping the inhaler will help the coughing, which will curtail the midnight visits to mommy. Nothing more disconcerting than to be groping your way back to bed after a night-time bathroom visit only to hear, "HI, MOMMY!" coming from the vicinity of your bedroom door. Scared me to death. The next night, I was a little more prepared for my nocturnal guest, and managed to head her off at the door. She was burning up, so I gave her more tylenol and sent her back to bed. Let's hope she sleeps through the night tonight-- I'm very, very tired.

2009-03-17T22:04:00.002-04:00

The spring-like weather has ushered in a new attitude at our house. We're all a little perkier now that we can spend some time outdoors. Nan and I spent the morning at the playground, and even had a little picnic (or picpic, as Natalie calls it) there. She had a ball, running around with the herd of kids and climbing like a monkey. She was braver than she was in the fall-- she went down the crazy curly tube slides that she categorically refused to approach before. She was exhausted after our busy morning, and she took a great nap, and woke up peppy and ready to play. Jay's had a brief reprieve from his insane contest schedule, and he's been home for dinner and bath and bedtime for the last few days. Things are feeling a little more managable than they have been.

After nap today, we went to the grocery store. We had an uneventful trip, and on our way home Nan asked me to tell her about when she was little. We discussed the usual-- you couldn't talk, you had no teeth, couldn't walk, etc.-- and then she said, "Okay, Mommy, I'll tell you about YOU when YOU were little!" Apparently I flew a princess kite and laughed and laughed. And I was too small to ride a bike, and my bike is broken, and Handy Manny will fix it! We must call him!
Such a loon.

2009-03-16T13:59:00.002-04:00

I burned the crap out of finger today. I was making myself a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, and I became obsessed with centering the cheese perfectly on the bread. In my quest for the ideal bread/cheese ratio, I rested my knuckle on the edge of the smokin' hot pan. Not my best moment. Now I'm nursing a blister, and eating a burnt sandwich-- the blister tending made me neglect my sandwich. I feel this is sort of how I'm living these days. Things are neglected. Mostly me. Here's hoping things will settle down soon, so I don't end up like my blackened sandwich.

2009-03-09T14:23:00.003-04:00

It's been long week. Or rather, last week was a long week, and this one isn't shaping up to be much better. I'd like to petition that we skip March next year-- it blows. On top of the usual March issues-- show choir competitions taking my husband away from home every weekend, not to mention the frequent evening practices throughout the week-- our household has been hit with the plague. Jay brought it home first-- and, of course, it was THE END OF THE WORLD. He was sick and miserable, and made the rest of us miserable with the neverending whining. Then, Natalie started looking peaked. Her eyes were runny, as was her nose, and she was coughing. My sinuses started filling, and it was all over. Nan stayed home from school on Friday so I could take her to the doctor, where we learned she had a double ear infection, and her eyes were infected, too. Antibiotics and EYE DROPS were in order. (An aside re. the eye drops... I believe the doctor who prescribes the eye drops should have to actually come to our house and put the damned things into the child's eyes herself... it's next to impossible. Like wrestling a greased chinchilla.) I finally gave in the next day and called on grandma to watch the kid while I waited forever at the medcheck so I could get antibiotics at last. Grandma kindly agreed to stay on after I got home so I could catch a quick nap. Today, my mom called telling us not to come over for her birthday dinner, as she's got the flu. Sooo... it was probably incubating when she was here on Saturday... I'm crossing my fingers that we dodge that bullet. Bottom line, I'm sick and tired of being, well, sick and tired. My patience is nearly nonexistant. I shouted at Natalie after she requested a third change of shoes this morning, trying to stave off leaving the house. I'm eagerly awaiting school on Wednesday, and I think she is, too.
We were discussing where various animals live while we drove home from the store today (as we do-- don't you?), and she told me cows and horses live in barns, pig live in "pig mud", dolphins live in the ocean, fish in the water, and zebras live in the country. Hee. That's why I keep her around.

2009-02-28T21:54:00.003-05:00

After I talked Natalie out of the flowered bike for Grandpa, we settled on making him a robot. Not sure where she came up with that, but it was the first idea she had that was feasible, and not entirely selfishly motivated. It actually turned out rather well-- I covered a small box (think macaroni and cheese box with more depth-- it's a No-Pudge Brownie box, to be precise) (Also? Can I just quickly profess my deep and abiding love for the No-Pudge Brownies? Okay, parenthetical asides done now) with color-wonder paper, and she went to town with her markers. It's beautiful. I cut some construction paper strips and folded them accordian style for legs and arms, and we attached them with tape. Now, what my father will do with a home-made robot is his problem. I know a three-year-old who would happily take it off his hands.

2009-02-25T21:23:00.002-05:00

Today I told Natalie that Sunday is Grandpa's birthday. After the usual questions ("What will we eat? Can I have presents?"), I asked her what she thought we should get Grandpa. She thought for a minute, and then answered decisively, "A flowered bicycle." And then she thought for a minute longer, and added, "I think I should get one, too." Silly kid.
We're stuck in a never-ending cycle of sickness. Nothing serious, just irritating. And it's hard to decide when to keep her home from school. She's snotty, she's coughing, but she's not feverish. Sigh. I lay in bed at night and listen to her hack. Poor babe. Poor mom. We're both tired, but we're both eager for her to go to school. School continues to be the best thing we've done, and I'm looking forward to sending her three mornings a week next year. She's thriving under the care of Mrs. P and Mrs. N, and she talks about her friends and the fun she has at school all week long. And, she's finally nailing down her colors and shapes. And, I get to study, grocery shop, and do other errands in peace. Lovely.

2009-02-19T10:13:00.002-05:00

I have officially entered the fabulous world of unemployment. Yes, I haven't "worked" since the end of October, but now... I am no longer being PAID. Severance is done. I've filled out all the appropriate paperwork to receive unemployment benefits, and hopefully everything will kick in before the end of the month. I'm enjoying the classes I'm taking, and I look forward to actual employment again. Kind of. I'm also really enjoying the feeling that, for the first time, I'm on top of things. Our laundry is caught up. There are groceries in the pantry. Natalie and I get where we need to be ON TIME, and we have fun playing together. I'm not constantly looking at my watch, thinking I should get back to work. We're moving in three-year-old time. It's awesome. I'm able to enjoy my free time while she's at school-- I meet friends for breakfast, get my haircut, grocery shop without the kid. I've gotten a taste of stay-at-home momdom, and it's nice. But. I've done it with the safety net of my severance. As I look at our finances and look at our drastically reduced income, even with the unemployment, I feel anxious. We're making enough to make our regular bills, but what about emergencies? Like the leak in our slab ($1000), or car trouble? Not to mention the little luxuries to which we've become accustomed-- regular coffee stops, regular dinners out, little treats for Natalie when the mood strikes. I know that I'm working toward something better-- when I've completed my training, I'll be qualified for higher-paying jobs, and we'll be as financially comfortable as before. But I'll miss these quiet days with my girl, and the moments I get to myself. Even as I write this, I realize this is ridiculous in light of the trouble that so many families are facing-- it could be a lot worse for us. And I know a year from now, everything will be different. Hopefully, I'll look back at this and shake my head at my hand-wringing melodrama.
Speaking of melodrama, my girl has been particularly hilarious of late. She's a funny mix of so adorably funny I want to hug her, and so defiant and stubborn I want to strangle her. Three has been interesting. There have been more time-outs in the last few weeks than there were in the last six months. But, there have also been funny, interesting conversations. Jay and I have decided that she knows how far she can push it-- she senses when we're about to pick up the phone to summon the gypsies to take her away, and she flips the switch back to charming. She was jumping off the couch onto a nest of pillows yesterday, and when I cautioned her to be careful, she flapped a hand at me and said, "No worries, Mommy. No worries." My new mantra.

2009-02-08T21:49:00.003-05:00

Hi. It's been a long time. I could blame the holidays. But in truth, I haven't had much to say. I've been kind of adrift of late-- not sure what I want to do with myself, in a lot of ways. However, of late, I have rediscovered a sense of purpose, and I feel compelled to write again. I'm studying again, learning-- truly, I think I'm in my element when I'm studying something new. It makes me happy to gain new knowledge, and to show I've got it down pat. Such a nerd. Natalie and I are in a more regular routine, which makes us both happy.
I'm taking the next six month to complete a course of study that will allow me to find a different job. Things will be a little tight, but I'm lucky to have unemployment to fall back on while I'm studying. My goal is to finish my studies before Jay starts school in the fall, so I can get settled into a new job while he's home to help with the transition.
Natalie turned three on Tuesday. We've celebrated for the last week. It's exhausting. We've had visitors, and parties, and general super-fun-party-time all day, every day, and I'm about to drop. Things will get quiet again by the end of the week-- this week is jam-packed with extracurricular activities, and I'm looking forward to boring old normalcy.
Ah, this is degenerating into disjointed rambling, so I'll stop. I'm trying to get back on the horse, so to speak. Hopefully I'll be more interesting, or at least more coherent, later.

2008-11-08T18:07:00.003-05:00

Nan and I made cookies a little while ago. Sugar cookies. Cut-out sugar cookies. Apparently I am overly ambitious in addition to being a glutton for punishment. At least I have cookies to eat while I weep with frustration. She was angry because she was too small to properly control the rolling pin, so I tried to locate her little rolling pin from her kitchen-- alas, it remains MIA. She was frustrated that the cut-outs weren't instantly baked cookies. She became LIVID when the dough would tear. But, she made me laugh with her interpretations of the shapes we cut with the cookie cutters. The gingerbread man was a flower, the mitten was a heart, and the stocking was a shoe. Hee. I shall let her live.

2008-11-07T21:09:00.003-05:00

Blergh. It's been a long, long week, as Jay has been away from home 'til almost 10pm every day. He promised to be home for dinner tonight, so Nan and I prepared a fantastic steak dinner, w/ Pioneer Woman's Crash Hot Potatoes. Yummm. We planned for a 6:30 dinner, so when he called at 6:50 and announced he was on his way home, I was less than excited. He eventually got here, and we had a nice meal. Nan was so happy to see her dad. And I was happy the child finally got a bath. Sandbox day at school didn't help on the filthy kid front. Next week, baths will be even spottier, unless we drag ourselves to Grandma's every other day or so. But, the musical is next weekend, and I'll have my husband back in the evenings. The weekends are still lost, but at least the girl will be clean.
Nan spent much of the afternoon wearing a tutu, ballet slippers, and her Indian headdress that she made at school today. Quite the picture. When she added her WordGirl cape to the mix, it really completed the ensemble. I have been raiding clearance Halloween costumes to give to her for Christmas, to enhance her dress-up box. Thus far, I have scored miniature doctor's scrubs, a Supergirl outfit, a geisha outfit (!), and a cowboy outfit (complete with a duster jacket). Each of those averaged around $5. Woo! I plan to ask my MIL to further enhance the dress-up trunk for Christmas-- she's an amazing seamstress, and I think she'd have fun making costumes for my girl. Plus, costumes are easy to haul back on the airplane. Unlike the life-sized Elmo and Winnie-the-Pooh dolls we got for Nan's first Christmas. (Seriously. The Elmo is enormous. It's STILL taller than she is.)
Oh-- bathtime is over. Time to go read stories. The best time of the day-- snuggling with my clean, sleepy girl.

2008-11-06T11:40:00.003-05:00

Sooo... big things have happened. I am no longer employed. Last Thursday morning, I went to get my hair cut and highlighted, and Thursday afternoon, they called to tell me I was being laid off effective 10/31. I don't think there's any correlation between the two events. Anyway. I have new hair, and no job. Good news is I have three and a half months of severance pay to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. But! Trick-or-treating was a stupendous success, resulting in an amazing chocolate stash, as my daughter ate one bag of M&M's on Halloween night and promptly forgot the candy existed. Score! And the Halloween party went well. It was gorgeous outside, so the kids ran themselves silly out on my parents' lawn. It was awesome. The yard was overrun by fairies and pirates and firefighters and Robin Hood and various other creatures. The WordGirl costume was a big hit, and Nan is wearing the cape as I write this. I think she'd sleep with it if I let her.
The best part of my enforced downtime is I get to play with my girl. We went to the playground, and I wasn't checking my watch the whole time, thinking I need to get home to work. (Ok... I /was/ checking my watch... but it was just because I was bored silly after 30 minutes, not because I had to get back to work.)
I did sign up to do NaBloPoMo... but. The layoff, etc, made me a giant FAILURE. I think I'll try to get back on the horse-- I will do my best to post daily for the rest of the month. Stop laughing.

2008-10-29T22:26:00.003-04:00

I finished Natalie's outfit tonight. I cut out the star emblem and affixed it to her shirt. It looks awesome. I even cut out a spare, in case she works that one off in the course of trick-or-treating. Her cape is ready, her boots are in place, and she will look like WordGirl. Yay! She's getting excited-- they've been speaking about trick-or-treating at school, and singing spooky songs. She came home singing something about a pirate with a cough (WTF?), and something that ends with her screaming, "BOOOO!" at the top of her lungs. Jay had a half day at school today, so he picked her up from school. She was thrilled. I'm sure her teachers were relieved to see a competent parent pick her up-- this morning, I dropped her off with her shoes on the wrong feet. The shoes were put on the wrong feet BY ME. And she TRIED TO TELL ME THEY WERE WRONG and I blew her off. Sigh. Her teachers laughed, and Mrs. Nestor (whose daughter is in Nan's class) told me her daughter was wearing mis-matched socks this morning. Glad to know I'm not the only incompetent parent. As Jay's on fall break now, he and Nan are visiting the Children's Museum tomorrow. She's super excited to see the dinosaurs-- she says SHE'S a dinosaur, and she's going to go back to the museum to see her dino brothers and sisters. Silly girl.

2008-10-28T14:28:00.002-04:00

Halloween is creeping up, and I've got a lot to do. I have to put the finishing touches on Nan's WordGirl outfit, and I have a lot of cooking to do for our Halloween party on Saturday. (Yes, it's the day AFTER Halloween, but I wanted to have a party. So there.) I have a tendency to take on too much, because I am a control-freak beyond all control-freaks. I have delegated a few tasks, but I'm taking on the brunt of the food. I'm cooking chili-- meatful and meatless-- and cornbread, a few appetizers and a grownup dessert. And possibly 18 sugar cookies if no one else steps up to bring them. I am crazy. Oh, and I'm planning the crafts for the children and the decorating. The list-making alone has made me nuts. Why, oh why, do I do this? Because I love it. I love getting people I love together, to eat and laugh and drink and play. I love seeing the kids I haven't seen in almost a year, I love watching the pack of children run around like lunatics. We usually do this at Christmas time, but it's gotten so busy at that time of year that we decided to move it to Halloween. I am looking forward to a more casual, laid-back meal, and hopefully I can get everything done.
Nan keeps changing her mind about her outfit-- she has decided to be a pumpkin, a pirate, and a cucumber, just today. I keep gently guiding her back to the outfit that we've already put together-- she WILL BE WORDGIRL. Too damned bad, kid. Next year, you get a little more autonomy re. your Halloween costume. For now? I still have some say in her ensemble. Thank god.

2008-10-24T22:57:00.003-04:00

Nan's on fall break this week-- no school on Wednesday or Friday. It was sorely missed, to say the least. But, frankly, her immune system could use a break. She can't shake this nasty cough-- it sounds like she's been smoking for forty years-- and she's got a perpetual runny nose. So, I called the doctor. Again. I was looking for a refill on the cough syrup. Instead, I got an 8:30 am appointment. Argh. We can barely get to school at 9, let alone anywhere before that. I scheduled the appointment for Thursday, the day we planned to go to the pumpkin farm with my mom and dad. Or, as I explained it to Nan on Thursday morning, "HEY! We're going to Grandma and Grandpa's house, and then to the PUMPKIN FARM! But first, we've got to make a quick stop..." Poor kid. I didn't tell her 'til we were in the parking lot of the doctor's office that she had an appointment with Dr. O. Of course, the tears started, and I had to drag my limp rag of a child into the office. She was fine when we got in there, and was an excellent patient. Here's the funny thing-- the doctor thinks she has allergies. That isn't funny, of course-- what's funny is she suggested Nan might be allergic to our cats. You know, like Jay talked himself into believing so he could soothe his conscience when we decided to find new homes for the kitties. Whatever gets my archnemesis, Miles, out of the house. I hope it helps Nan feel better. I know I'll feel better when there's not cat pee in my hallway. Anyway, Nan's now on an extensive regimen of allergy meds. We're to revisit the doctor in a month and reassess her condition. But, when I laid her down for her nap that afternoon, I realized-- she was still. coughing. After a drastically curtailed nap, I called the nurse back and begged for some sort of relief for my kid and myself. She recommended an OTC cough syrup, and that helped a little. She's exhausted, and snotty, and only wants me. It's nice to be loved, but right now I'd love nothing more than to leave her at my mom's for a night or two without a backward glance. That wouldn't be fair to her OR my mom at this point-- everybody would be miserable. My mom made a half-hearted offer to keep her last night, but I could see the fear that I would take her up on it in her eyes. I told mom to bring her home at bedtime.
After the visit to the doctor (complete with flu shot-- I really AM evil), we went to Grandma and Grandpa's, as previously advertised. My dad had gone out and bought doughnuts in honor of our visit, and we'd definitely earned them. So we scarfed our doughnuts, and headed to the farm. Nan got to experience her first hayride. Her face was priceless-- she was amazed, and enthralled. She tossed hay in the air, and grinned from ear to ear. We chose our pumpkins, and after we purchased them we went to the barn to visit the baby animals. My sweet girl squatted down by the baby goats, and sang them the lullaby I sing her every time I put her to bed. So cute. All in all, a lovely outing. My parents enjoyed the time with Nan, and she thought it was extra-special to have Grandpa along. My dad is something of a workaholic, and doesn't get to go on outings like that very often. They had a ball.
Damn. She's coughing again, and crying for me. Off I go, to rock and soothe...

2008-10-21T22:12:00.004-04:00

Today my one of my big parental fears was realized; my kid was in trouble, and I couldn't help her. Let me explain. We met friends at McDonald's for lunch, and the kids were climbing on the Playland structure like crazed monkeys. Nan was apprehensive about coming down to eat, but my friend's five-year-old son helped to guide her down. We ate, and the kids went back to their play. After 20 minutes or so, I asked Alex to go and guide Nan back down again. He helped her down from the very highest level, but she landed hard on her butt on the descent. This shook her confidence in his helping abilities, so she started to cry for me. From the top of the crazed hamster-maze of the playstructure. There is no way an average adult could squiggle her way up through the tiny spaces, and I particularly couldn't navigate these platforms. It was heartbreaking-- she stuck her fingers through the protective netting, and screamed for me. And all I could do was flail helplessly below her, pleading with her to follow Alex. She just clung harder to the netting and cried like her limbs were being severed. All the other parents looked on with sympathy, but there wasn't anything any adult could do. Finally, finally, a sweet seven-year-old boy offered to go up and help her. He was just big enough so she felt comfortable with him picking her up. He gently lifted her and carried down each level, as she wailed for me. It was the longest ten minutes ever. It seems silly and melodramatic now, but I can't describe the terrible feeling of her needing me, and me not being able to come to her aid. When she finally got down, she clung to me like a monkey. And I was hanging on to her for dear life, too. The whole way home she spoke about "the SCAREDY place". She was eager for her nap, and she slept for a long time. She didn't need me to sit in her room today-- but I needed to sit there for awhile.

2008-10-18T17:58:00.003-04:00

It has been a busy week. And Nan and I are slogging through cold# 9,632. We've had a lot of just-the-two-of-us time this week, and I'm amazed by my daughter's ever-increasing vocabulary. And her comprehension. Car rides are particulary enlightening these days. For instance, this week I learned:
1) Dogs eat mustard. All dogs. This is, apparently, their primary source of nutrition according to my daughter. I have no idea where this came from-- she's never willingly eaten mustard, I doubt she could pick it out of a line-up of condiments.
2) She is a princess-girl. As in, "I not a (fill in the blank), I a PRINCESS-GIRL, MOMMY!" (I believe I said, "Okey-dokey, Artichokey", leading to "I not a ARTICHOKEY, MOMMY, I a PRINCESS-GIRL!") This makes me laugh.
3) There is a lot of weeping at pre-school, and it generally isn't her. She always has a tale of woe about some poor child weeping. And it's always told with great drama, complete with gestures and facial expressions.
4) When we get rid of our cats later this week, it's going to be ugly. For various reasons, we've decided to post ads on Petfinder to find the cats new homes, where they will be happier and get more attention, and we will have less cat hair/dander/ cat pee in the hallway. (Jay thinks some of our frequent colds could be allergy related-- I am willing to entertain this idea, especially as it rids our house of my archnemesis, Miles the peeing cat.) However, this decision has coincided with her new love affair with our pets. She spent the whole car ride home from school discussing the fact that Phoebe sometimes meows in the bedroom, and Daddy tells her to hush. We had to reenact this-- sometimes I was Phoebe and she was Daddy, sometimes I was Daddy and she was Phoebe-- and it nearly broke my heart and made me reconsider. Then, I stepped in two separate piles of barf and found cat poop on the bathmat in the space of six minutes. This stiffened my resolve.

We made a special visit to the Children's Museum today. We had Breakfast With the Witches-- it was a special event in honor of Halloween, and it included breakfast as well as a play and a trip through the Museum's Haunted Train. It was awesome. Breakfast was so-so-- the witches aren't very good cooks, I'm afraid-- but Natalie loved the play, and the train was cool. She was completely unaffected by the train until we reached the last car. We walked through cobwebs, past skeletons, and various other scary sights and she didn't even seem to notice them, but something scared her in the last leg of the trip. We couldn't figure out what made that different from every other thing we saw, but it was cool-- she just rode in Jay's arms for the last bit, and she was fine once we were out of there. I'm a little afraid she'll have nightmares tonight, and I'll regret my decision to take the toddler through the Haunted Train, even during the lights-on, friendly hour. We shall see.

2008-10-13T12:46:00.004-04:00

I'm sitting in the quiet of Nan's room. She's having trouble falling asleep, so I sit. I sit and I rock and I type. This is a chance for me to study my girl close-up, without her speeding away. She's looking less like a baby and more like a girl every day. There are still traces of baby in her cheeks, and her sturdy legs, still... but she's growing up. And I'm generally okay with that. As long as I can sometimes sneak in and study her. It's hard to give up my baby. But I'm infinitely proud of the girl she's well on the way to become. I'm proud of her kindness, her sense of humor, her sweetness. I'm proud of her stubbornness, even when it's me she's stubbornly fighting. I'm proud of my big girl. She's finally settling into her nap, so I could head back to my desk. But I think I'll sit for a bit longer. For now, I'm welcome in her room. I know the day will come when my presence will be an irritant. But for now... I rock. And I sit. And I study.

2008-10-08T10:13:00.003-04:00

I managed to finish my book club book late last night. I am reaffirmed in my choice of Tom Robbins' "Skinny Legs and All"-- it is a truly fantastic book. It's fun, and funny, and full of things that make you think. This is a wonderful quality for a book to possess-- except when
it's 11:45 p.m. and you're ready to sleep. I ended up lying in bed, awake,
for far longer than I wished, thinking. Thinking, thinking, thinking. My brain is always busiest in the dark, when it SHOULD be resting. I mentally compose emails, write grocery lists, and extensive to-do lists. People to call, chores to accomplish. My husband lays down at the end of the day, closes his eyes, and sleeps. I am absolutely incapable of this. I think of all the things going on for the next few weeks, and try to plot more fun stuff. Then, I move on to the worries. Money, the potential slow leak in the slab in the master bathroom, money, Natalie's NEVER-ENDING cold, money, the stupid cat who pees in the hallway, money, the apparent oil leak in my car, and, of course, MONEY. I've already started the midnight fretting about our trip to Arizona at Christmas time-- how will Natalie travel? How much will the rental car cost? How much will I have to work while I'm there? Where will Natalie be sleeping there, now that she's outgrown the crib? Yes, I understand it's over TWO MONTHS away, but it's never too soon to fret about it. If I start the fretting now, it's possible I'll come up with solutions to some of the issues. At least that's my theory.

2008-10-07T10:19:00.003-04:00

My daughter just brought me her faux fur stole, and the matching faux fur hat, and her feathered fan, and declared it her Pirate Outfit. She put the hat on, asked me to drap the stole (or the pirate scarf) over her shoulders, and waved the fan in front of her, shouting "ARRRRRRRRRR!" as she ran in circles. Toddlers are hilarious. Not sure what kind of pimp-looking pirates she's been seeing, but she's sure she's in proper pirate attire. Oh-- her stick horse has just been added to the ensemble. And fairy wings. Ahoy, matey.

2008-10-02T22:14:00.002-04:00

Nan seems to be feeling better. She's a /little/ fragile, especially when she gets tired, but the sneezing is significantly reduced, and the coughing is better, too. I hate it when she's sick; it makes me feel so helpless. I would much rather be sick myself than watch her suffer. It gives me new perspective on my own mom-- she has had to watch me undergo several surgeries, and suffer in ways small and large on a daily basis. I didn't understand how this hurts her until I had my own baby. I can't imagine her hurting as I do, it makes me teary to think of it. I now have a better understanding as to why my parents have both, at different times, brought me "miracle cures", ranging from shark cartilage (eeewwwww... imagine dumping fishy powder into your morning juice-- GAG) to undiluted persimmon juice. They're both hoping to alleviete some of the pain. My dad suggests different strength building exercises, and my mom comes over and quietly does chores that I find difficult to do when Jay's not around. I used to get impatient with them and their well-meaning offerings, but now I accept them with a smile. Hell, I'll even try them. It makes my parents feel better, and it might make me feel better, too.

2008-09-30T13:48:00.002-04:00

I am apparently absolutely unteachable. It was LESS THAN A MONTH AGO that I was convinced Nan's runny nose was simply allergies. I was wrong. Yesterday? Allergies, I told myself. When she woke in the night hacking her poor lungs out, I smacked myself in the head and resolved to call the doctor's office as soon as they opened. (I also had a dream that someone was standing over our bed, resulting in me screaming at the top of my lungs and scaring my husband. Sorry, honey. Umm... you passed the drill! The "wake when I scream" drill! Gold star!) So we trekked to Nan's pediatrician today, and we ended up seeing a different doctor in the practice, as our beloved Dr. O was out today. Dr. D was lovely, and Nan was a perfect patient. Apparently, the allergy attack is turning into a sinus infection, and we've caught it fairly early. And when I asked if she could go to school tomorrow, the doctor said as long as she wasn't running a fever, it's fine. Hurray! Way to absolve my guilt re. dance class! Thanks, Dr. D! So now we're giving Nan antibiotics, and the doctor is calling in a night-time cough syrup to help the poor baby sleep. She sounds worse than she feels, I think, so I'm hoping it will pass soon.

Second verse, same as the first...

2008-09-29T22:10:00.003-04:00

I took my sick, snotty girl to dance class. Again. I know. I. Know. I REALLY think it's just allergies-- no green/yellow color, no fever (this time) and it's accompanied by watery eyes and the dark allergy circles, but ugh. It's gross. I did warn the teacher that she might need to keep a kleenex handy, and I mentioned to several of the moms that she was suffering from allergies, so I didn't get the "what the hell is wrong with you, lady?" looks I got last time. I'm so tired of snot. At least she's better about using the kleenexes on her own now-- I can just hand one back to her, and she'll wipe herself off. someday, soon, she'll be able to reach the box on her own. Someday, she'll stop using ME as a handy kleenex. Dare to dream.
One of the benefits of this allergy attack is that the girl actually wants to go to bed early, so Jay and I are able to catch up on some of the new! awesome! tv shows we've been taping. Hurray! I hate to let the tivo get so clogged, and I keep deleting Nan's backlog of 'Curious George' episodes to make room for the new episodes of 'Dexter'. Hee. It feels good to delete the shows we've watched NINE MILLION times, especially when it's replaced with something awesome.

2008-09-28T13:40:00.005-04:00

We took Nan to the free(!) kid's matinee at a local theater yesterday morning, and it was a smashing success. It was the most recent VeggieTales movie, so that was a definite plus for Nan. She's been obsessed with the bloody VeggieTales series of late. We take out a stack of the DVDs at the library each week, and by the time the next Tuesday comes around, I'm speeding to the library to drop the stack off so I don't have to watch 'Dave and the Giant Pickle' ONE. MORE. TIME. It is a testament to the wittiness and cleverness of the movies that I haven't tossed any out the window. Yet. We did manage to talk her into 'Toy Story' for our Friday night movie-and-pizza extravangaza. Or, as she refers to it, "The Messy Room Movie". Which is technically accurate, and somewhat heartning-- maybe she'll grow into being a neat freak. That would be tremendously helpful. She sat through all of 'Toy Story', rapt, and didn't touch the pizza she helped me make. We're enjoying introducing her to our favorite children's movies, and the Pixar movies have been extremely popular. Hurray!
We had to have our picture taken for the church directory this morning. I dressed us all carefully-- Jay remembered to wear a shirt and tie, I wore a basic black shirt, and I put Nan in her colorful autumn-weight dress. /I/ did her hair this morning (sorry, Jay-- your hairdos are serviceable, but not picture-worthy), and I even put on lipstick. It started badly, when she cried from our house to church (about a 20 minute drive) because I didn't have her pacifier, which is only supposed to be used at home ANYWAY, and when we got out of the car she decided to wipe her snotty, teary face all. over. my. black. shirt. Growl. I did the best I could with a damp paper towel from the bathroom, but I have a feeling that our picture will appear in the directory with a perfectly groomed Jay and Nan, and me looking rather frazzled with faded lipstick and snot tracks on my shirt. At least it's an accurate depiction of our family.

2008-09-26T13:34:00.004-04:00

I'm writing from Nan's room. Again. It's becoming a tradition. I lay her down, I leave the room, the party hats and noisemakers come out from under her mattress, I come back into the room, sit in the rocking chair in the corner, and she zonks out within seconds. I could probably leave now, but it's very peaceful back here. No phone, no yowling cats, no doorbell... in a weird way, I've come to enjoy the twenty minutes or so of peace every afternoon. And she's getting to sleep. I've probably set up something that will bite me in the butt, but for now, I'm gonna live with it.
I had a sanity-saving evening out yesterday, with my dear friend Sue. Sue and I have known each other since I was 15 and she was 16-- nearly twenty years. She became an adopted member of my family. We would spend hours with each other every day, and then go home and talk on the phone until our parents demanded we free the line. We have remained close, and we have been fortunate enough to meet at least once a month over the last few months-- no small feat with my work/kid schedule, and her three kid circus, now with a new job added on top. We drank beer, ate delicious soft pretzels, and laughed and laughed and laughed. I felt like a new person. And then today I got to meet my friend Pam for lunch-- I feel so decadent. Outings without the child TWO TIMES IN ONE WEEK! God bless preschool, and bless Grandma, to boot. But I feel recharged, and ready to tackle my toddler anew. Not literally. Figuratively. (Earlier this week, it was literal...) I forget how much I thrive on people. My job is great, and I'm glad I'm able to stay home with Nan and work, but I miss basic human contact with people to whom I'm not related by marriage or blood. Every time I have a lovely evening out, I resolve to do this more frequently, but it inevitably falls to the wayside as life intervenes. I hope that doesn't happen this time.

2008-09-24T13:35:00.005-04:00

This has been a long week. Like, "it's Wednesday and it feels like next Thursday" long. Construction near our house severed our phone lines (!!!!), leaving us without phone service OR, more importantly, DSL. Which meant no internet service. Which meant I couldn't work. For a day and a half. I /did/ get the laundry folded, and the dishes washed, and Nan's lunch packed for school. And I got to take a nap. But it wasn't a happy nap... it was a "there's nothing I can do so I might as well sleep" nap. Grr. I am happy to report that services are back up as of this afternoon, so I /should/ be able to get my day's work in. I'm only about four hours short for yesterday. I packed Nan up and we met my mom for dinner, and then went on to her house, where I could work for a few hours while she played with Nan and then bathed her and got her ready for bed. Yay, Grandma! Jay's deep in the throes of auditions for the high school's fall musical, so he didn't get home until late last night. I must say, I have a whole new respect for all the teachers who did so much while I was in high school. The people who directed the plays, the band and choir directors who spent hours of precious afterschool and weekend time making sure everything went well, for little to no additional compensation. Now that my husband is one of those people, I feel like sending thank you notes to those teachers. I understand the family time that was sacrificed so the show could go on. As does my poor messy house. Something must give, and in our case, it's housekeeping. Hope Nan doesn't get eaten by a dust bunny.

2008-09-22T13:26:00.003-04:00

I write this from Nan's room. She is supposed to be napping. She is not. I am definitely at my wit's end... how can you MAKE a kid sleep? Right now, my strategy is simply waiting her out-- I sit here and glare at her every time she makes a sound, and she eventually gives up and falls asleep. This is not a viable longterm solution. I prefer not to spend an hour or more of my precious afternoon time scowling at my progeny. And that's when it WORKS... yesterday, she was napless. We were due at a family party, so we eventually gave up on the struggle. Did we set a bad precedent? Does she think she can just outwait us now? I suppose I'll find out today...

Edited:
Ok... she fell asleep about 10-15 minutes after I got in her room. Hurray! I had to wake her for dance class. Booooooo. Now I'm dealing with the shortened-nap aftermath. We have had about seventeen bursts of tears since 4:30. Jay is coming home late. Send chocolate. And liquor. And a nanny.

2008-09-19T15:00:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was Jay's birthday, so Nan and I decided to bake him a birthday cake. Rather, I decided to bake him a birthday cake and Nan sat at the counter and looked at some cheapo shape and color flashcards I picked up at Target. His favorite is german chocolate cake, so naturally I decided to bake a caramel apple upside-down cake. (Don't worry... he'll get his cake. I plan to bake the german chocolate one for his party on Saturday.) I had some apples that were about to go bad, so after some internet searching, the caramel apple cake seemed ideal. Silly me. I thought it looked easy. I ended up with four dirty pans and apple detrius all over the kitchen. And a crabby toddler who wanted to HELP NOW, MOMMY!! Sadly, there wasn't much she could do to help-- she couldn't peel or slice the apples, she couldn't make the carmel sauce on the stove, and I mixed the few ingredients for the cake portion in my Kitchenaid. She /did/ get to press the apple slices into the carmel sauce at the bottom of the pan, and that was super fun for her. She wanted to eat the cake right away, and was a little unhappy when Mommy explained that she had to wait for it to bake. I then moved onto dinner prep-- steaks with dijon-rosemary marinade, and bleu cheese spaghetti. Nan decided to "help" with dinner, too. Sigh. It involved her dropping the flash cards from great heights, crying and trying to reach the cards, me stopping what I was doing to retrieve the cards, and repeat ad infintum. Finally, Jay finished the video game he was playing (it was his birthday-- I let him play unmolested) and coaxed her into the living room. Then, GRANDMA arrived, and she was sufficently distracted for me to finish the meal. Dinner came together well, and the cake smelled heavenly. It tasted good, too-- to everyone but Nan. She took a bite, declared it "yucky" and refused to eat anymore. (She did, however, enjoy the bleu cheese spaghetti-- I was surprised! A rather potent taste for a two-year-old.) Oh, well. More for me. And Jay, of course.

2008-09-16T22:42:00.002-04:00

Dance class went much better yesterday. We arrived FIFTEEN WHOLE MINUTES early... take a moment, and let that sink in. I. Was. Early. This is something of a miracle, on the scale of the loaves and the fishes. Anyway. We had time to enter the studio (first ones there!), put on her tap shoes and Nan got to run around a bit before class started. She made a friend, and I enjoyed chatting with her friend's mom. (I know!) We were the only ones openly mocking our inept dancers. It's good to know I'm not the only evil toddler parent. (C'mon... 2.5-3 year olds? Dancing? It's FREAKING HILARIOUS. It's like herding cats.) And, to top it off, I wisely started a crockpot meal earlier in the afternoon, so I didn't have to run around like a lunatic to get dinner together. Woot! Pardon me while I sprain something patting myself on the back.
Today we went to library story time-- it was good, overall. Nan was enthralled by the stories, and she loved singing the songs, singing out loud and strong on those she knew. Silly girl.
We're getting into a routine, and I must say I feel relieved. I hate not knowing what's happening from day to day, and that's how it's been for the last month and a half. We're busy, but busy is good for me. Now, if I could just figure out how to live on 3 hours of sleep... don't see that happening.

2008-09-12T14:17:00.003-04:00

Did you know that when you yell at a child for crying, it MAKES THEM CRY HARDER? No? Well, now you know. My gift to you. It was a rough morning-- we were rushing around, trying to get ready to go to school. Wait. Scratch that. I was rushing around, trying to get ready to go to school, and Nan was crying about ridiculous things. The fact that her pink bunny was in the kitchen, when she wanted it in the bathroom with her. The fact that I gave her THE WRONG CUP. The fact that I gave her Dora yogurt when she wanted DIEGO yogurt. That was what caused the yelling. Sigh. It's okay now-- we made up, she went to school and had a great morning. I met a friend for lunch, and got to feel like a grown-up for a bit. That helped a lot.
This week, I met with my monthly book club. This has been a great addition to my life. I joined last fall, when I was starting to feel disconnected from the world at large-- working from home and hanging out with a toddler all day can make it difficult to get out of the house, and I needed to find a reason to leave. I found the group on meetup.com, and I really love it. It's an interesting mix of people-- we range from 25yrs old to 65yrs old. Men and women, married and unmarried, with kids and without. It's one of the few places in my life where I'm just Nikki, not Nan's mom or Jay's wife. It's lovely. Anyway, this month the leader asked me to bring a recommendation for the group's selection for next month. Usually, Elizabeth just brings a few ideas, and we vote, but she is getting tired of doing alll the legwork. I brought forward my idea, and the group agreed that we'd read it for October. Now that it's done, I'm having post-selection regret. I chose 'Skinny Legs and All', by Tom Robbins. This is one of my very favorite books. Ever. I'm wondering if I shouldn't have chosen a book so very close to my heart. It's kind of a kooky book, and I'm afraid it won't go down well with some of the older people in the group. I hope I don't feel personally attacked when they criticize the book. I might have been better off choosing something I hadn't read before, so that I wouldn't care so much if they dislike it. Ah, well. Too late now, huh? Hopefully, they'll all love it and I won't get all hurt-feelinged. If I'm asked to choose again, I'll choose a something a little less fraught.
Ok, one quick funny Nan story. Last night, my mom was here to help out with bath/bedtime while Jay was at choir practice. Mom was sitting on the couch, and Nan came to her and said, "Stand up, Grandma! You are a princess!" Mom laughed, and stood, and asked Nan,"And who are you?" Nan thought for a moment, and said, "I 'tending to be a MAN!" And then she asked the princess to dance. So Grandma the princess and Nan the man waltzed around our living room. They're crazy.

They only had to wipe her nose ONCE....That counts for something, right???*

2008-09-09T14:45:00.006-04:00

Yesterday, I was that mom. The mom who comes running into the dance studio, five minutes late, frantically slapping tap shoes onto her child's feet, while scraping her unbrushed hair into a haphazard ponytail. Not only were we late, but we were late and SNOTTY. If it hadn't been the first class, I would've kept Nan home. What we thought was an allergy attack was shaping into a cold. As we got out of the car at the dance studio, she sneezed and blew snot allllll over her tutu and the carseat. I wiped her off as best I could with kleenex dug from the bottom of my purse, and we headed in to class. She entered the class late, so she was hesitant to join for the first few minutes. Poor kid. All the other girls were dancing, perfectly coiffed, not encrusted with bodily fluids... and then there was Nan. When the girls had to join hands, I cringed-- I could almost hear the intake of breath from the mom of the little girl holding Nan's hand. I was so happy that the teacher only had to interrupt class once to wipe the Nan's nose. (You know you've reached a new low when that's the bright spot of the day...) So, yeah, I made a completely awesome impression at our first dance class. I'm SURE they are eagerly awaiting what we'll bring next week. Maybe a nice intenstinal virus? Perhaps pinkeye? But you can bet your ass we'll be there fifteen minutes early. And I'll have her hair in a bun if it kills me.

PS-- When we got home, before dinner, my husband requested the thermometer. Nan felt a little warm, he said, and he was right-- she had a fever of 100. Yep. I'm a model parent.

*Props to my sister for the title... Thanks, Sly!

2008-09-07T11:19:00.002-04:00

Ok, one quick thing... yesterday, Jay was talking to Nan before dinner. "After dinner, we'll go to Daddy's school and get some books, and then... would you like a surprise?" Nan's eyes widened, and she shouted, "A PONY???" Ummmm... we were thinking ice cream. Sorry, babe.

2008-09-06T22:12:00.005-04:00

If you have a chance to see the Ringling Brothers' Circus, I recommend you RUN, don't walk, to the nearest ticket purveyor and check it out. Seriously. It completely RULED. There were cool animals, talented acrobats, and the best of all? Human. Cannonball. Not just ONE human cannonball-- but TWO human cannonballs, husband-and-wife human cannonballs at that. (Can you imagine? What if they were fighting just before being loaded into the cannon-- would Mrs. Human Cannonball nudge the mister juuuuust enough so he'd miss the mat? Just a thought.) Nan was absolutely transfixed. Even though we pushed her over an hour past her usual naptime, and patched together lunch from the concession stand and the contents of my purse, she held it together rather well. Big drama occurred when I refused to plunk down $20 (!!!!!!!) for a piece of light-up plastic crap that they brought out during intermission. She was ok with my "no" until the lights went down again, and she saw how awesome the plastic crap was allll lit up in the dark. She was PISSED-- she wanted one "WIGHT NOW!" Nuh-uh. I told her we could check out the souvenir stand on our way out, but I wasn't going to buy the stupid wand-y thing. She was eventually transfixed by the dancing dogs, and we watched the rest of the circus in peace. After, we stopped by the souvenir stand, as promised, and she chose a t-shirt. All was well. Today, she and Jay are off to our goddaughter's 3rd birthday party. It's a pony party, held at a state park nearby. They've got a great saddlebarn, and Nan is so excited to RIDE! PONIES! I'm not joining them... I've been under the weather since Thursday, and I'm taking the day to rest, and hopefully kick this bug. I managed to hold it together with pharmaceutical help at the circus, but I was dead for the rest of the day. I've eaten next to nothing for days, and while that's been good for the scale (5lbs lost... but I don't recommend the method), my energy is nonexistent. Hopefully, a day of rest will help.

2008-09-05T14:31:00.002-04:00

School was a tremendous success. No tears at dropoff, and she cried when I came to pick her up. She's covered with purple marker and exhausted. She had an awesome day, and I enjoyed having the morning quiet so I could get my work done. I love school. Amen.

2008-09-04T17:25:00.009-04:00

I realize that it's just the beginning of September, but I've been giving some thought to Halloween costumes. Not for me, but for Nan. (I'll probably wear my normal disguise-- rapidly aging mom. Spot the gray hair! Note the sharpei-like droop around the eyes!) She's very taken with superheroes of late, a tendency fed by a super cool exhibit at the Children's Museum and her comic-book junkie father. When she visited the comic book exhibit at the museum, she spent a good twenty minutes running around in one of the capes provided for dress-up purposes, shouting, "Don't worry, people! I SAVE DAY!" She spends a lot of time rescuing me, her stuffed animals, and any random stranger she runs across at the playground. (The looks on the faces of her rescued victims are amusing-- they're wondering what on earth the two-year-old is yammering about as she runs at them.) Thus, I've decided Nan should be a superhero of some sort for Halloween-- but which one? There's the usual complement of female superheroes-- mostly scantily-clad versions of the guys, with "girl" appended to the end of the name-- i.e. Spidergirl, Supergirl, etc. Then, there's the iconic Wonder Woman, but Nan's a little underdeveloped to take on that unitard. We could go the 'Incredibles' route, but she's really too small to know anything about any of those characters. What to do? Enter a new-ish cartoon on PBS Kids-- WordGirl. It's clever, educational, and Nan absolutely LOVES IT. A bonus-- the costume would consist of red leggings, red long-sleeved t-shirt, some sort of belt, boots, a cape and hood. Bam. Warm enough for Halloween, and perfectly respectable. And WordGirl is super cool. She flies, has super strength, and can define any word in the English language. So perfect for my book-loving girl. (I know-- she's two. But she spends a good portion of each day poring over her books, and we have lots of discussions about what letters make what sounds. For real.) She'll be all set for trick-or-treating. Too bad I won't let her eat candy. Ah, well... she'll have to pass the chocolate over to mom. I'll have earned it by taxing my meagre sewing skills with the cape-making. Do they pass out beer? I'll need that, too, after I sew.

2008-09-03T14:39:00.004-04:00

Today was meet-the-teacher day at Nan's preschool. It was great-- gave her a chance to see her new classroom, meet the kind ladies who are in charge of her classroom, and see the other kids. Her beloved friend E was there; I had been concerned, because I didn't see her mom at the parent orientation, but they were there today, even though Nan really didn't seem to notice her. It's funny-- she spent the whole summer asking when she'd get to see E again, and today I don't think she even played with her. I was sorry to see one mom there. This woman goes to our church (the preschool is affiliated with our church), and her son is about four months older than Nan. Her son is something of a nightmare-- super aggressive, prone to crazy tantrums when he doesn't get his way, very uncooperative-- and his mom completely ignores his bad behavior. I was really hoping he wouldn't be in Nan's class, but it looks like he will be there. I was glad to see the teacher gently reprimand him when he grabbed a toy away from another kid, as his mom wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I know it's common for kids at this age to grab-- heck, Nan just grabbed a train from another kid at the library yesterday-- but my concern is with the fact that his mom doesn't try to stop the behavior or correct it when it occurs. Ah, well, baby's first bully experience is just around the corner, I think. Ok. Time to take off the judgemental mommy hat. Overall, I was really happy with our morning. She had a lot of fun playing with the new toys, and she enjoyed talking to the other kids. I did find a few moms to chat with, and I think I might have made a connection with one mom in particular. It's so hard to make other mom friends-- it's like dating all over again. You don't know if you should give the other mom your number-- are you coming on too strong? It's ridiculous and crazymaking, just so you can find someone to talk to at the playground on a regular basis. I found myself second-guessing my outfit as I dressed this morning, 'cause you gotta look cool for the other moms. Sigh. The best part is Nan will be at school on Friday, for the WHOLE MORNING. They will feed her LUNCH. And then they will send her home EXHAUSTED, so she'll sleep allllll afternoon. I love school.

2008-09-02T13:57:00.003-04:00

Jay and I decided to do a bit of dividing and conquering this weekend. My mom and dad went away for a much-needed mini-vacation, so our usual sitters were not available. We both REALLY wanted to see a movie, so on Sunday, while Nan napped, Jay saw 'Clone Wars' (ugh), and I saw 'Hamlet 2' while she napped on Monday. I was a little disappointed. I was expecting the most HILARIOUS thing ever to be captured on film, based on some of the reviews I've read. And some moments were absolutely laugh-out-loud, snort your soda funny. But, overall, it was only mildly amusing. I felt like I'd wasted my precious movie-going time on a 'meh' film. And, I got that damned "Rock Me, Sexy Jesus" song STUCK IRREVOCABLY in my head. I /really/ wanted to see 'Tropic Thunder', but Jay wants to see it, too, so we agreed to wait until we can see it together. Which will be on the 10th of never, if our September calendar is a precursor of things to come. He was kind of let down by 'Clone Wars', too-- we decided later that we would've been better off if we'd just seen the same movie separately, and discussed it later. Ah, well. I got to do one of my favorite things-- I loooove seeing movies by myself. I don't have to share my popcorn, I can sit wherever I want to sit, and if I really hate it, I can leave without compunction. I find it very soothing. I know some people feel weird or silly sitting alone in the theater, but I think it's fabulous. Who cares what the other people think? Rock me, sexy Jesus.

2008-08-31T22:03:00.002-04:00

Ok... quick update re. the movie... in a complete 180 from yesterday, her behavior at the movie theatre was IMPECCABLE. We watched 'Wall-E', and it couldn't have gone better. She sat quietly, munched her illictly-smuggled goldfish, and watched the screen with wide eyes. As soon as the movie ended, she asked, "Robots AGAIN?" Pardon me while I explode with pride. I promise I'll clean up the mess.

2008-08-31T13:30:00.007-04:00

In a fit of optimistic insanity, we decided to take a DAY TRIP to Chicago. With a two year old. "It'll be great," we said. "We'll get up just a little earlier than normal, drive three hours, hit the Shedd Aquarium shortly after it opens, eat lunch, head to our friends' house to give the kiddo a nap and visit, eat dinner, and head home! It's foolproof!" Suckers. First, we woke up a liiitle later than planned. And by we I mean me. I woke up later. I just couldn't drag my sleepy butt out of bed until 6:45a, the time we were planning to wake Nan and get her fed and dressed and out the door. So, we didn't leave the house 'til 7:20a. We decided to hit the doughnut shop for a special road-trip breakfast, so we REALLY didn't hit the road until close to 8a. We wisely invested in a portable DVD player, so Nan was perfectly happy to watch Nemo and his friends as we sped down the road. As we approached Chicago, we encountered construction on the interstate, so it quickly became stressful as I attempted to navigate and Jay tried to maneuver through the heavy Labor Day weekend traffic. We finally, finally reached Chicago, and found parking close to the aquarium. We had to walk a bit to reach the fish, but we got there. And found a long line. We patiently waited, purchased tickets ($25/adult, thank GOD she's under three and still free-- yikes) and were ready to look at fish! And our kid went nuts. She was running wildly, refusing to hold our hands or even stay close to us. In the crowd, it was tough to keep track of our tiny girl. We decided to head to the reefs exhibit, in the "underground" part of the aquarium, in hopes that it would be SLIGHTLY less crowded. It was, and after a quick talking-to, Nan quieted down and enjoyed the sights. As we progressed through the exhibit, she started to fall apart again. A quick glance at the time confirmed my thought-- hungry kid. When she gets hungry, she turns into demon-spawn. We hurried to the food court, spent another fortune on pizza, breadsticks, and fruit, and settled in to eat. My good girl returned to me, and the demon-spawn left the building until the next mealtime. We looked through the rest of the aquarium in relative peace, and headed to visit our friends. She fell asleep in the car, and we were able to lay her down at M and K's with no trouble. She woke earlier than we expected, and we were able to visit the beach! The condo is right next to Lake Michigan, and we were able to run and play along the shore. She got to feel the water on her feet, and squish in the sand. It was amazing. She had so much fun. After an hour or so, I remembered that we didn't have any sunscreen (bad mommy!), so we headed back to the condo. M and K's baby girl was just starting to wake, so we were able to visit with the baby, much to Nan's delight. She loves babies, and loves to pretend that her bear is a baby. She watched M rock with the baby, and mimicked his motions with her bear. So sweet. We decided to head to dinner, and everything fell apart. We went to a local middle eastern restaurant, and I planned to give Nan a mish-mash of food from my plate and Jay's, and supplement with snacks I brought from home. We got to the restaurant, and it was hot. So very hot. My girl doesn't do well with hot. Then, when our food arrived, she declared everything "yucky" and refused to take a bite. I finally coaxed her into eating some blueberries and crackers I had brought from home, but that was all she ate. She ran out of milk, and the restaurant had no more. The unholy tantrum began. My poor, sainted husband stood up suddenly, grabbed our ill-behaved child, and marched her butt to the car. M, K and I finished our dinner, and I went out to relieve Jay. He was sitting grimly in the backseat, while Nan chattered away happily in her carseat. I offered to let him go back in, but he refused. Nan asked to go back, so we reached an agreement that involved shoes but no socks, and Daddy carrying her. Logically, we understood that her bad behavior was due to exhaustion. This is a child used to 2 1/2-3 hour daily naps, and she barely got 45 minutes. But. Our logic was trumped by the seething anger and embarrassment that follows a tantrum. Especially in front of friends who haven't seen her since she was 4 months old. Who don't know that her usual restaurant behavior is beyond reproach. Who have an infant of their own, and are looking at our kid wondering, "Is this what's in store for us, or is their kid just an asshole?" Ok, probably not the last part. But still-- the anger was there, and I think it took all my husband had to keep from spanking her little butt in the parking lot. We paid the bill, and headed back to M and K's to change the kid into her jammies and say our goodbyes. Once she learned we were going home, she turned back into her usual sweet self. She was pleading to go home to sleep "in my PRINCESS bed, peeeeease?" Poor kid. We got in the car at last, put in her 'Curious George' dvd, and headed home. Thank god. Hours and hours and hours later (so it seemed), after more crazy detours and frequent wakings from the backseat with tearful pleas for the princess bed, we were able to collapse into our own (non-princess) bed. And I have promised my husband we won't attempt another trip like that until she's much older-- say, 16.
After her nap today, as we are apparently sadists, we plan to take her to the movies for the first time. God help us all.

2008-08-28T08:59:00.002-04:00

Lately, every animal that Nan sees is named "Angel". No matter the species, animate or inanimate, if you ask her, "What is the name of that doggy/kitty/horsie?", the answer is inevitably, "Angel". We have no idea where she got the name-- we don't know anyone with a pet named Angel, I can't think of anything she's seen on TV that might prompt it, and we've never called HER that. It's just something weird that popped out of the tangled yarn of her brain. It's kind of hilarious. She pretends to put great thought into deciding on the animal's name, and then comes up with Angel EVERY TIME. And if there's more than one animal? They're Angel and Other Angel. And if there are three? The third is... you guessed it... Other Other Angel. I think I will die of shock the day she comes up with something new.
We met Jay for an early dinner last night-- he had Open House at school, and wasn't able to make it home for dinner. She got to experience the wonder of chocolate chip pancakes at Perkins. Sigh. Stupid kid's menus with stupid color pictures of all the stupid food I don't particularly want her to ever, ever know about. Ah, well. The chocolate chips were mostly contained to the ear portion of the bear-- sort of coloring in his ears-- so she really didn't get much chocolate with the pancake. And she doesn't like syrup, so that was ok. And, she ate her entire fruit cup. (Listen to mommy justify her kid's crappy dinner...oh, and there was milk! Tasty, healthful, white milk. Good ol' 2%.) After we left the restaurant, we went to play at grandma's. It was a win-win-win. Nan got some undivided attention, Grandma got her Natalie fix, and I got to read the paper and eat oreos. Score. Even better, Nan actually got a bath even though Jay wasn't getting home until after her bedtime. One of the many lovely features of rheumatoid arthritis is an inability to get up off the floor unassisted, so I'm unable to bathe the girl. This generally isn't an issue-- it's nice for Jay and Nan to have that time together every day, and they have fun splashing around. But, when school starts and Jay gets busy with the extracurriculars, it can get kind of dicey. We're at an age when a bath is pretty necessary every day, to scrape all the yogurt off the filthy child. But. Sometimes a quick swipe with a baby wipe is all the kid is gonna get. We persevere.

Self-inflicted madness

2008-08-27T14:17:00.003-04:00

I had something like an epiphany last night. Jay called to tell me he had to make a few stops before heading home after teaching guitar lessons, which would mean he'd arrive sometime after 7pm. Dinner is traditionally served by 6:30pm at our house; any later, and my daughter starts with the face-meltingly irritating whining, and I start to consider selling her to a roving band of gypsies. So, I was less than pleased when Jay said he'd be late. You might say I was pissed. However, his errands were completely legitimate-- in fact, one was for me-- and it was really stupid, as well as pointless, for me to be angry. So I decided to continue with my dinner prep and Natalie and I would eat when it was done. He could warm it up when he got home. It was like I flipped a switch in my brain... I could be angry and snippy and passive aggressive while we all ate together, or I could have a pleasant, hot meal with Nan, and he could have his food later. Duh. I still feel very strongly about our family eating together, and we will eat most meals together, but I'm tired of making myself crazy to make it happen EVERY DAY. It was incredibly liberating. So, I happily prepared risotto and foil packets with tuna steaks and veggies. (A sidenote-- this is my new favorite way to fix any kind of fish and even chicken. It's competely mess-free, and so fun to come up with different veggie-spice-herb combos. And did I mention mess-free? Wad up the foil and throw it away, and the dishes are done. Awesome. ) (A sidenote to the sidenote-- did I say it was fun to come up with veggie combos? I am officially old and lame. Literally and figuratively.) It turned out that he showed up just as I was getting the plates out to serve dinner, so all was well in the end, but the fact that I was fully prepared to eat without him made all the difference in my attitude toward him. The crazy thing is that he would not have ever had a problem eating after we did-- it was entirely something I put on myself. I don't know if he noticed that my mood was better than it was during the initial phone call, but I know I did. It was a happier evening than the previous one, because I decided to make it so. And, we managed to take a walk without my daughter bleeding HER OWN BLOOD, which was just icing on the cake.

Therapy

2008-08-26T08:59:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was not a good day. The morning started badly when Nan woke before 7am, and shouted until I set her free. I took the fastest shower ever as she ate her breakfast, and settled down to do some work while she played. After a couple of hours, she was desperate to leave the house, so I decided we'd head to the playground to eat our lunch and play for a bit before naptime. Because I'm a nice freakin' mom. I was a little irritated by her lack of interest in lunch, but shrugged it off, figuring if she were truly hungry, she'd eat. As naptime approached, I went to gather my child so we could head home. She was less than compliant. And by "less than compliant" I mean "a total demon-spawn who screamed NO at me from the very top of the very, very high playstructure." This is where things get tricky-- unlike most moms, I cannot just scramble up there, grab her wayward butt and drag her to my car. I had to stand ineffectually at the bottom of the steps, my voice getting louder and my threats more ridiculous as the minutes ticked away. Eventually, I started (carefully) climbing the steps up to the slide, hearing my orthopedic surgeon's scolding voice in the back of my head-- at this point, Nan's eyes grew wide as she assessed just how dire the situation was going to be when I eventually got to her. I told her in a low, mean-mommy voice, "The higher I get, the angrier I get. If I were you, I'd come down to me RIGHT NOW." Finally, finally, she started her descent. Thank god. I knew I couldn't climb any higher than I already had; fortunately, she didn't know that. When I could reach her, I grabbed her arm and guided her down to a level where I could pick her up, and I carried her to the picnic shelter, where I staged an impromptu time-out. I'm not sure who it was for-- me or her. I was frustrated by her attitude, and embarassed that I couldn't control my two-and-a-half year old in front of the other parents at the playground. We got to the car at last, and she told me she was ready to go home and take a nap. I told her I was ready for her to go home and take a nap, too. I spent the afternoon in peace, working, and Jay finally called around the time he usually arrives home to let me know he'd be late. Sigh. Nan woke from her nap, and she was even fouler than she'd been in the morning. At this point, I was less than sympathetic. I did allow her to lay on my lap and watch TV while I worked, until Jay arrived home. He promptly sat in the recliner and took a nap. Bastard. I went to the kitchen to start dinner, and heard Natalie asking the now-comatose Daddy to play with her. I listened to her pleas for awhile, and then I came to intervene, prompting a grumbled diatribe against me from my husband. Near tears, and pressed for time to get dinner prepared before pre-school orientation, I started to make mashed potatoes. Traditionally, I use my electric mixer to mash potatoes, but I decided to break out my relatively new masher. It was awesome. I wished I had a couple more pounds of boiled potatoes to pound. I took out all of my frustration-- with Nan, with Jay, with my own stupid body-- on little soft red potatoes. I mashed, and I mashed, and I added milk and butter, and I mashed a little more for good measure. I felt better than I had felt all day. It's my new favorite form of therapy. I'm looking at our schedule for the next few weeks, and seeing how busy we'll be and how much Jay will be gone-- I think we're going to be eating a lot of mashed potatoes.

Bleurgh

2008-08-24T21:49:00.004-04:00

We've been talking about our feelings at our house lately. Not in a weirdo, touchy-feely kind of way, but a more concrete, explanatory way. When Nan is unable to fasten her sandals properly, I say, "Wow, you must feel frustrated, huh?" And when she wants to stay up and watch a little more "Blue's Clue's" rather than go down for her nap, we talk about how sad or angry she feels when I tell her nuh-uh, kid, naptime is SACRED. Mommy needs to eat lunch and watch some crappy tv uninterrupted. I didn't realize that our words were having much of an effect upon her until today. After we made a run to the grocery store, Jay decided to stop at the carwash. Nan really has a love/hate relationship with the carwash... she hates it until we get into the tunnel-y thing, and then she remembers she loves it. Anyway, she was expressing her wish to go home and eat lunch, but Jay told her we had to visit the carwash first. She began to sob, pleading with us to go home. It culminated in her crying, "I'm getting SO SAD right now!" We found that to be simultaneously heartbreaking and hilarious. Mostly hilarious. I told her she used the word properly, and commended her for sharing her feelings... but sorry, kid, no dice. The car is filthy. She lived, and in fact had a fun time spotting the stuffed animals the car wash guys hang throughout the tunnel. As usual. Later this evening, on our usual evening walk, she tripped over her sandal and went flying through the air, landing square on her knees. She was scraped and bloody, and when we got home to clean her up, she was hysterical at the sight of her own blood. (I was a little shaken, too-- she's NEVER bled that much... poor baby.) While Jay bathed her knees, she screamed, "I so SCARED right now, Daddy!" Saddest. thing. ever. Again, we told her she was doing a great job expressing herself, but daddy had to clean her scrapes or she would get sick. It's so cool to realize that she's able to help us understand how she feels, and it's kind of an awesome responsibility for us to help her have the proper words to make us understand her.

THAT girl

2008-08-22T14:46:00.005-04:00

Last weekend, there was an open house at a local dance school. The only dance school in the area with classes for 2 1/2 year old children. The dance school at which I hope to enroll Nan for the fall. I decided it might be fun to check the place out before the lessons start in the fall, so I packed up the car and we headed out. The drive was uneventful, and she was so excited at the prospect of visiting the dance school. We found the building with no trouble, and as I approached the school, I heard pandemonium. We walked into a cram-jammed waiting area, and and even crazier studio area. It wasn't so much an open house as an opportunity to buy all the equipment necessary for class-- ballet shoes, tap shoes, leotard, tights, skirt, etc. We got into line to start the rotation around the room. I let Nan run around for a little while, until I started to approach the shoe station. I called her name, expecting her to join me-- no such luck. I smiled apologetically at the family behind me, and ran to grab my wayward kid. She was not thrilled to join me, to put it mildly. She threw an unholy tantrum--- picture pea soup pouring from her face. That kind of tantrum. I picked her up and hissed threats into her ear, but I stayed in line. As she sobbed. And yelled, "I DOWN RIGHT NOW!!" I felt the death ray glares of other parents, and I could practically hear them thinking, "Hope that kid isn't in MY kid's class!" As we approached the shoes, a girl indicated I should seat Nan on a bench so we could fit her for ballet shoes. My daughter screeched as if we were tearing out her toenails, and clung to my neck. Sighing, I squatted as well as I could to allow the poor dance school girl to reach my kid's feet. She quickly fitted the ballet shoes, and moved on to tap shoes. Tap shoes. I was convinced Nan would be thrilled-- she's been calling her dress-up mary janes 'tap shoes' for months now, and she's constantly staging shows on the linoleum in our entryway. But no-- the tap shoes were greeted with the same wails of displeasure as the ballet shoes. Fed up at this point, I dragged her to the leotard station, picked up tights and a frilly skirt, and joined the mile-long queue to pay. I was steeling myself for the battle ahead, and casting about for the proper mix of threat/bribery to make her keep it together while we waited. She saw some little girls sitting on the couch looking at books, and asked if she could join them. I agreed, and was pleasantly surprised that she managed to stay quiet and still for the next thirty minutes. $85 and 40 minutes later, we were heading back to the car. Thank god. As I loaded her into the car, she smiled widely and begged me to put her new ballet shoes on her feet. Arrrgggghhhh. Next time? We are sooo taking Daddy with us. I refuse to suffer alone again.

End of Summer

2008-08-21T15:07:00.001-04:00

So, Nan will be heading back to preschool for her second year in just a few short weeks. The problem? How to fill the days between her dad's return to school and her first day in the Wednesday-Friday Two's class. She became accustomed to a pretty strenuous schedule of FUN! FUN! FUN! under Dad's jurisdiction, and the thought of sitting at home all morning doesn't appeal to her anymore. Sigh. She starts every morning with a question-- "Where are we going TODAY, Mommy?" This wouldn't be a problem, if I weren't also working full time from home. I must try to find enough hours in the day to entertain Nan, keep up the house, make meals, and work 8+ hours. And get to bed at a reasonable time. All while fighting the exhaustion that accompanies most RA patients. I know I am by no means unique in my lack of energy-- all moms feel the same way, to varying degrees. And I'm lucky to have a fantastic, helpful, hands-on husband and Nan's super-eager grandma nearby. But... it's tough. Since my second hip replacement, it's a lot easier to keep up with Nan on the playground, so that's been our hangout of choice the last few weeks. It's fascinating to watch her learn the playground etiquette-- taking turns, sharing, et cetera. And I love her attitude. When we approach the playground, and she sees all the children, she starts to wiggle in her seat, shouting, "LOOK, MOMMY! FRIENDS!" I love that she automatically assumes all children are her friends. I hope she always feels that way.