games people play

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I've been wishing I had a single girlfriend or two of late; I'd love to go out and have a couple beers, just do the low-key casual thing, maybe meet someone. All the spiffy ads talk about how so many people are meeting their significant others online ... but I freakin' hate that approach. I'll do it, because I don't have much choice when it comes to actually *meeting* people, but I hate it. I'm so much more *organic* than that.

Le sigh. Getting matched with guys with mullets (seriously) and old fat guys (sadly, seriously too) doesn't help me appreciate online dating, either.

I'm listening to the girls play. It's like a sad parody of parallel play, where Bean starts some elaborate game that no-one understands. Then LuLu tries to join in but has no idea how to engage with Bean's convoluted scenario. Today's play includes a "yak poker that pokes people away from trouble" hand crafted from Legos and "a vehicle that likes to eat (rattles off first, last and middle names for her dad, sister, self and I) and it's a very mean vehicle. It doesn't really eat people, it teases people. And hits them." It's shocking, really, that LuLu can't figure it all out.

Eventually Lu gives up and starts her own game, usually with little action figures and dollies playing mommies and babies (and the babies just said "back. off. I need space. I need space too!) and tries to engage Bean.

LuLu: Can I hug you, Bean?
Bean: NO.
LuLU: (pauses) Can I hug you Bean?
Bean: NOOO!!! Aaaah! Get off me! I don't want a hug!

Those who know Bean well get how funny it is that she's on the receiving end of the unwanted hug :)
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You are strange and off-putting. Go now.

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Yay - a mommy duty weekend! And the weather is actually cooperating. My past few mommy weekends have been sucky, weather-wise, so I'm hoping to get an Austin Zoo trip in. 'Course that means driving all the way down to where I work for one extra day this week, but oh well. Bean will be thrilled to see all the hawks on the streetlights along Mopac. And Miss O can wave 'hi' to every bird she sees. Good times :)

After a few days in a row of Dave getting calls to pick her up early, Bean wrapped up the week by making it all day at school today. Her OT called the school and talked with her teachers a bit, and they've been having someone spend one-on-one time with Bean at nap time, but I'm not sure how sustainable that is. We're going to look at a school that caters more to her needs, but it's considerably more expensive and a helluva drive ... but they have OT's that go to the school, which would be nice.

I just don't know what's really right for her, yanno? Is it better to put her in a special school, or better to keep pushing her limits? I mean, her coping and integration skills are really good, all things considered, and we're like 7 months (gah!) away from when Kindy starts ... is it better for her to be in regular preschool where she has to work a little harder to keep pace? Or better for her to be in an environment where things are structured more to help her succeed?

Parenting is hard. How come no-one ever tells you that straight up? It's really damn hard sometimes. And sometimes it's just weird.

Do you know what she asked for the other day? "Mommy, I want to go to a doctor who will let me see a broken bone and the inside of a bone." Since I'm fairly certain I won't be able to find an orthopedic surgeon to accommodate her, I offered instead to go buy different grocery store bones so she could see what they look like inside.

Her response? "But those will be dead bones, not alive bones." Well yes, sweetie, I know. But, one: no doctor is going to show you the inside of a bone, and two: you're four and a freakin' half. Seriously. The fact that we'll be futzing around with animal bones is effed up enough.

All this because of my sad little broken and permanently disfigured left pinkie, and her request for more info, which led to wanting to see pics of broken and dislocated bones, which led to an image search on the interwebz, and a picture of a compound fracture. If she ends up an orthopedic surgeon, I expect a posh retirement for me. Her dad's on his own: he thinks I shouldn't give her so much info. Not only do I give her the factoids, I'm her "favorite person in the family", so I figure I'm set when I get old.

(Quote from "Buffy vs. Dracula")
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I will remember you

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Things I don't want to forget.

That Miss O says "I love you too mama" when I tell her I love her.

That she also says "Mama house" as an imperative, not as a question, when I pick her up from school. Followed by "No more dada." (Insert wry grin here - it's one of those 'kinda funny/kinda not' little divorce things.)

That she has an intense love for my boobs. And my hair. "Mama hair!" is a frequent request when she's upset, and I hear at least 2-3 "Mama boobs" a day. And she hasn't nursed in like 6 months. She just wants to see them, give them a pat, etc. It's strange and endearing all at once.

That Bean refers to the feathers on some horses' ankles as "frisky hair." Used in a sentence? "Clydesdales are my favorite horses because they have frisky hair on their feet."

A conversation with Bean from yesterday, re: my layered shirts:
Bean: Why do you wear two shirts?
Me: To keep warm. And also because this one is pretty low-cut. If I wore it alone, people would see my boobs. And no-one wants that. Except maybe Miss O.
Bean: I'd like to see them too. Your boobs are pretty spiffy.

(I swear. to. god. that happened. She uses spiffy a lot these days, and fortunately my boobs fall in the "spiffy" category. They could be in the "not very spiffy" category, along with bears. Why are bears not spiffy, you ask? They eat other animals. Somehow all feline carnivores escape the "not very spiffy" stigma, but bears are S.O.L.)

Bean, queuing up all the Schleich horses she can get her hands on at Target, plus one elephant and a great white shark: "Look mama. The elephant poked the shark in the brain with it's tusk and killed it. He was protecting the other plant-eaters."

Regarding why everything she asks for doesn't appear at her b-day party:
Bean - "How come I don't get what I want for my birthday?"
Mommy - "Well, sometimes people just get you what they think you'd like. It's not what you get that matters, it's that people care enough to get you anything at all."
Bean - "Well ... [pause] If Mia wanted a princess for her birthday, and I got her a Batman costume, that just wouldn't be right!"

When I said "We're mellow and ..." to Bean the other day, waiting for her to fill in the "Zen" part, Miss O piped up with a clear-as-day "Zen!"

When we read the book 'Stand Tall, Molly Lou Melon', Miss O enthusiastically supplies the "so she DID!" at the appropriate times. She'll even fill in the blanks if I recite the book to her.

She still says "Pin-cess" for princess. And calls Willow something that sounds like "Wih-yo."

Miss O has started setting animals up in odd places, just like Bean does. She set up a few ponies and horses on the window sill by the front door, and I believe (her speech still isn't super clear) they were all looking at the trees.

There's more, but this is everything I can think of right now.
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Do it again! Do it again!

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Thanks, ladies.

The ones who commented here, the ones who emailed and the ones who called. Thank you.

Y'all are what keeps me going with a smile on the days that all the magic and love and light my girls hold is just enough to keep me putting one foot in front of the other. The support and compassion is much appreciated - thank you.

There are days, however, when the girls put the smile on my face and there is *nothing* that can take it away.

In my wallowing I've neglected to post about Miss O's (very) belated 18-month check, her language explosion and her growing skills.

Her (actually) 23-month check bumped her up and out of the bottom of the Bell curve for height and weight and she's firmly in the 60th-ish percentiles for both. Thanks to her dad, her head circumference knocked it right out of the park (as usual) and stayed above 95%. She's 34" tall and weighs 27#. She's still a pixie compared to her bruiser-sized big sis, but she's a big little person now!

The ped was thrilled with her growth and her overall Miss-O-ness, so she said we could count this as her 2-year check and come back when she's three. Go LuLu!

She's acquiring language at a rapid pace now, after essentially 20-ish months of the bare minimums. She is enamored of princesses, which sounds more like "pin-sis", and pumpkins "pum-pin", and says everything as many times as she sees an object. In other words, if there are four princesses in a picture, there is a "pin-sis" to announce each and every one of them. Driving around a neighborhood yields a ton of joyous "Hi pum-pin!"s, although that's tapering off as Thanksgiving approaches.

I do things just to get a reaction out of her. At night, she will, on rare occasions, want me to sing a song. On the other nights, I'll start singing something just to get her to put out a hand and ask me to "Top, mama". I'll sing the opening lines to anything I can think of to get her to stop me because it's so. stinkin. cute.

She's also bound and determined to do everything herself. Everything. And gets mad if you do it for her or make a move to do it for her. She'll insist "LuLu DO IT!" where do and it run together into one indignant doit! She can climb everything at the playgrounds now, and will slide down anything. She even took on the big girl swings the other day. When she (inevitably) fell, she cried a little, stood up and looked at me, with tears still on her cheeks, and said "more swing?"

She's also potty-curious. The other night, while she was in the tub, she said "pee-pee" and got out and peed on her potty!!

She actually told me "poo-poo" the previous time she took a bath, and I took her out to try on the potty, but she didn't go. Put her back in the tub and a few minutes later heard her wailing forlornly "pooo-pooo!" Sure as, well, sure as sh*t, she had pooped in the tub. Meanwhile, Bean was playing with her back to Lu, blissfully unaware of the party foul that had occurred behind her. It took a few "everybody out of the pool!" yells to even break her concentration enough for her to realize what had happened. And even then, the reaction wasn't a freaked out "Doodie!", but a low-key "LuLu pooped in the tub." and a casual climb out.

Course then I had to move them to my tub, get out my haz-mat suit and clean out their tub, including an overnight bleaching for tub and toys. *Sigh*. Meanwhile they're splashing away in my room, overjoyed at being in mommy's big bathtub. Or, to Bean, "mommy's pool!"

I'll close, since it's way past my bedtime, with the most brilliant Beanism to date: "I wish Brett Favre was my daddy. Do you with Brett Favre was my daddy, mommy? I love Brett Favre. And I love my old daddy too."

If only ...
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Never go for the kill when you can go for the pain.

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Started with a little bit scratchy throat yesterday afternoon, and now it's full-on scratchy with a ton of congestion. Yay. No fever, tho, so it looks like it will just be an annoyance and nothing major. I felt like crap last weekend with suspected strep (got results back Tuesday that it wasn't), but since I was kid free, I got to lay around, sleep and recover pretty quickly. Since I'm on mommy duty this weekend, there's no rest for the weary.

It's funny how when I'm alone and feeling somewhat rough, I'll veg out in jammies and not leave the house. When the girls are here, I'm dragged out of bed before 6:00 and forced into cheerful conversations and outings no matter how bad I feel. I'd love to be sleeping now, and then sacking out on the couch for a day of football, but I know that's as likely to happen as me suddenly being paid what I'm worth :)

I've been hurting a bit lately. Not sure why, tho the fact that I'm obviously very easy to replace and it's yet another holiday season alone isn't helping at all. While he's doing serious relationship #2, I'm still sitting here trying to come to terms with how to make love stay and how not to be played for a fool again.

I still don't understand how and why my marriage had to end, and since I'm the kind of person who really likes to understand things fully and to learn lessons, it's very hard for me not to dwell. Marriage isn't supposed to be easy or blissful all the time, it isn't supposed to be "oh, things aren't the way I thought they'd be, so I'll just look for a greener pasture", but with 50% of marriages ending in divorce, it's obvious that a lot of folks aren't making the effort that marriage requires. And it scares me and makes me feel so vulnerable, because I never want to go through any of this again.

And since someone who promised to love and honor me forever, someone who I really believed understood that forever meant forever, could throw me away like garbage when things got hard, how can I ever make that promise or believe that promise again? What's the point? It feels like it would be easier and safer to just never risk all that again. Because going through that much pain again is not something I can deal with.

Ah, yeah. That took a 180-degree turn from just not feeling well. I get a little faklempt when I'm sick ... kinda maudlin and emotional. Makes things that I'm still working on inside percolate just a little too close to the surface. Going through a divorce as a mom of young kids means you don't get to spend time just wallowing and submerging yourself in everything you feel; you have to hold back and compartmentalize, and for me that seems to have led to prolonged processing. Instead of being able to rip the bandaid off, I've had to pick away at it.

I couldn't cry and rant in front of the girls, couldn't say what I wanted to say, or even really feel what I wanted to feel, because I was and am too focused on making it as easy on them as possible. So I have to smile and nod and engage while Bean talks about the girlfriends and their kids, while he just goes ahead and smashes my kids' lives into whatever relationship he's working on. Because I can't just say "I am so friggin' SICK of hearing about so-and-so and her kids!" or scream when Bean says for the hundredth time that weekend: "Kid so-and-so this, Miss so-and-so that. I went hiking with Miss so-and-so; I want to be just like kid so-and-so."

Ugh. That all sounds so bitter, and that's why I've been holding back on posting. I want to talk about this stuff, but I also don't want to sound like I'm all man-hating and bitter. I'm not, I don't think. I don't want any of this to still be bothering me or to still be hurting ... When you loved somebody as much as I loved him, and believed in your life as much as I did, I guess it's hard to look forward and say "I could risk all that again." I date, but I hold myself back. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to let myself go again.

I'll close with a Beanism. Just to lighten the mood a little, because I hate to be all Debbie Downer. She and I were watching a big cat show on Animal Planet, and she was a little down about having watched cheetah cubs take out a Thompson's gazelle fawn. As she watched a group of cheetah take down an Grant's gazelle, she cheered herself up and said "Oh rock on! They just killed a male gazelle. They know they shouldn't kill mommy or big sister gazelles because they are more lovable."

Oh yes she did.
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You know me -- all about the good deeds

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No good deed goes unpunished.

I've mentioned that before, right?

Took the kiddos to Barnes and Noble with Shirley and her kiddos, then to Petco and PetSmart to say ho to animals. Then, idiots that we are, we thought "hey, let's take them to eat at Chili's"

It was two adults, two four-year-olds and two under two. In other words, it had "stupid" written all over it. Ironically, Bean was actually the less volatile of the two, but Miss O was a royal PITA when it came to just sitting in her high chair and letting me eat. I think I ate about 4 of the chips that came with the queso and maybe a third of my burger. I just scarfed down a yogurt and some beef jerky to round out my meal; my molten chocolate chip brownie and ice cream are still awaiting my consumption. I just can't eat a calorie bomb like that before bed ... if I make it my lunch or my breakfast, I have the rest of the day to burn all of it off, ya know?

Mmmm ... molten chocolate chip brownie + ice cream for breakfast. That has potential. Will surely take some of the edge off the blahs the day throws my way. Maybe I can give the kids a banana and some V8 Frusion and sneak the brownie past them when they aren't looking.

When we arrived at B&N and were walking in, Bean told her friend "Just deal with it - you get what you get and you don't throw a fit." I can't tell you what R was talking about that prompted that from Bean, but I had to work at not laughing out loud. I had been mourning the passing of the one-liner Beanisms, and she hooked me up.

She also told me, in the car, that "At my school, some of the kids aren't showing me respect." When I pushed for more details, it's apparently one kid who told Bean she didn't want to be her friend. "She did it to hurt my feelings, and that's not nice." I can deal with kids saying 'I'm not your friend', since no-one is going to be everyone's friend. I'm not clear if this triggered the one hissy fit Bean admitted to throwing today. But she also told me she doesn't have to throw as many hissy fits here because the kids and the teachers are nicer to her.

Oh yeah, I'm that good a mom. I use "hissy fit" to describe her nonlinear moments, tell her she needs to respect me, my rules and my things, and have told her to deal with it. Generally none of it in a snotty way, mostly in discussion, but still. Have I mentioned I'm not a sugar-coater?

She did finally freak out in the car on the way home this evening, and I'll be damned if I can tell you why. I only mention it for context for this: she wanted to know if someone was going to shoot her since she was bad. I have *no* idea where this line of thought comes from, but I've heard her go down this path a couple times.

After I assured her that no, no-one was going to shoot her, and, more importantly, she wasn't bad, she asked me "Why do only grownups get pissed off and shoot other grownups?" After trying to convince her not to use 'pissed off' (have I mentioned what a good mom I am?), I got to field: "Why did someone shoot Martin Luther King?"

Trying to explain racism and the associated stupidity to a four-year-old in terms that she'll understand but that don't go too deep or get too scary is no easy task. It's not a concept I really want her worried about, but she knows that Martin Luther King Jr was shot by a bad man, so we have the associated conversations from time to time.

Tho honestly, I'd rather tackle that than the ongoing "I want my whole family together" or "You and daddy still love each other a little, right?" pleas.
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Oh my god, they're everywhere! Frogs!

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Thanks for the compliments on the lovely Miss O. She's quite the photogenic little thing, isn't she? There's a photo right after that where it looks like Julia captures an "I just put a handful of sand in my mouth, and it's not as tasty as you would think" look from her that's slightly less beautiful, but no less cute in it's own right.

Both girls had Best Actress in a Childhood Trauma-worthy freakouts this a.m., the likely Osacr-winner being Bean's 15 minute sulk-whine-cry fest over the dresses in her drawer being "not long enough to twirl in". I kid you not.

But they also had a few awesome moments. Like Bean telling me "I'm just going to love my mama all day". And both of them giggling and bopping around in their car seats, after Bean's request for 'dancing music' ended up on a radio station playing Isaac Hayes singing the theme from Shaft. Damn right I was laughing out loud watching them in the rear view mirror. (Shut your mouth!)

Miss O is not enjoying her school dropoffs one little bit these days; every morning is a full on crying fest. And it totally sucks. Bean's a bit better, but that's because I'm willing to get her there early enough to hang out in the room with her favoritest teachers, Miss K and Miss J before I take her to her class. Yesterday, one of the boys brought in a toad he caught and as the kids gathered round and Miss K asked a newcomer if they wanted to see the frog, Bean interrupted: "Actually, it's a toad."

Miss K laughed, said she was right, and recalled how when Bean was just 2.5 and in her class, Miss K was showing a picture of a "baby horse" and Bean corrected her with "it's called a foal". It's nice that she appreciates my little smarty pants and isn't annoyed by being corrected by her :) Because sometimes it gets a little old for me ...

On the drive this a.m., Bean also informed me that watermelon seeds push themselves into watermelons, and that's where vines come from. She asked if that was right and I said "is that what you think really happens?" and she said yes. So I said "then if you believe it, it's right to you." Of course, she caught the hedge, and asked me what I thought happened. I went thru germination, sprouting, vine growth, flowers, pollination and then fruit and she listened politely and thoughtfully, pausing afterward before she informed me I was totally wrong.

Sigh. Of course I am.

Miss O insisted on bringing "Uncover a Tarantula" with her as her naptime dolly today. I talked her out of the two Breyer horses she originally held, but couldn't get the spider book away from her. Since she screams at dropoff anyways, I let her bring it in with her, then took it when I left. Why make her scream twice, right? Then Bean got to share it with the boys in Miss K's class, as the only girl there, C, was totally not interested in seeing the book. I'm sure Julia dropped dead with shock upon reading that ;)

And now they're off to Dave's for the weekend. And while I enjoyed my first evening off, and accomplished a bit, by tomorrow or Saturday latest, I'll be missing the hell out of them again.
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Coffee - the non-relationship drink of choice

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Mommy: "Is dropping your Pony worth having a hissy fit over?"
Bean: "No. Love is the only thing that matters."

So in spite of my fears that I'm totally screwing her up, I get glimpses that I'm doing something right now and then. If she gets that love's all that matters, her mama might be saying a few things right.

In that spirit, I have a few coffee dates this weekend. I'm pretty excited; we've had some great email conversations, and they're animal lovers, so they have a few points in their favor already: intelligent conversation, they make me laugh and they like animals.

I thought it somewhat apropos when yesterday, as I took out the trash, I spotted something on the garage floor. It turned out to be a tiny little "love" charm that I had lost a few weeks ago.

Okay, totally *in*appropriate aside, but is anyone else completely unable to look at the word teabag without having Sex in the City flashbacks? And yet, someone actually used "Tea Baggers" in their Twitter status. No lie. And not in a SITC sense, which makes it doubly funny.

(And no, I am not defining/explaining this if it makes no sense to you. All I can say is that urbandictionary.com can be your friend.)

I am almost crying I'm laughing so hard right now. Nothing better than starting a morning with rain AND something like this.
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All that proper conduct is a con too heavy to bear.

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Bean this a.m.: "Mommy, just let me get some privacy done. I have my booty all naked, so just let me get some privacy." {Closes bathroom door to, hopefully, do her bidness. And nothing else.}

In the bath last night: "These are vegetarian bubbles. Because he (the leopard) eats veg-uhs."

Ever have one of those days where your kids are just awesome?

When I picked the girlies up yesterday, Bean was in the 4.5-year-old room instead of the younger fours room. They had planned to do a gradual shift to that room, as she seems to have fewer issues there; but because she's so night and day, behavior-wise, between the classes, they just kept her there and did a cold-turkey switch.

The joy of *not* having a teacher tell me how many bad choices my big girl made in a day almost - almost - trumped the buzz kill of hearing that the little one has a spot of ringworm. Freakin' ringworm. And it's on her hip, under her diaper and under her clothes, so I'll be damned if I can figure out where she picked it up.

So, after a stop at the grocery store for antifungal cream (and don't think *that* didn't require a whole dissertation for the big girl, who has added 'antifungal', 'ringworm' and 'Uncle Fungus' to her word count), some chicken strips and some mac and cheese, we headed home. During the drive, I had the pleasure of watching Bean do her "funkadelic dance" to Henry Rollins' "Let That Devil Out". Now if that doesn't make a mama proud, I don't know what does.

Dinner was a breeze, followed by bathtime and all sorts of associated silliness from the kiddos.

It was just a great night to be a mommy. And one I totally, totally needed. Thanks girls!
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The point is, I haven't even broken a sweat.

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Ladies, thanks for the comments letting me know I'm not alone in my struggles with fourliness. (Yeah. I made that up. So what?). Having heard from my BFF that 5 sucks, too, and six is when it "gets better" (last I heard she's still waiting on the "better"), I've decided that the only reasonable course of action is to bleach out the toilets in prep of swirlies of doom.

It's hard to remember that Bean still has amazing moments, and she still says awesome stuff, like when I picked her up today and she hugged me, then blurted out "Mommy! You peed in your pants!" And then I got to explain butt-sweat to her, and her preschool teacher, and about 5 *other* preschoolers, since I didn't want anyone thinking I had, indeed, wet 'em.

(Loudly) "Mommy didn't pee in her pants, she was just driving with the windows down and got sweaty from sitting in the seat"

(Note to self: sit on towel next time, or do windows-down in summer on days you *don't* pick up Bean.)

A hippie-in-training, she has mad love for the "baby redbud tree" at school, says hi to willow trees (and loves them because they "look like (my) cat, Willow") when we're out and asks for leaves from every tree she knows.

She shares, unprompted, with Miss O, when Miss O is upset in the car. Bean will talk to her in a soothing voice and, one by one, give her everything she has or that she can reach.

She has this soft, gentle yet almost-condescending voice she uses when she explains things to me, where it's like she's talking to a temperamental, yet high-functioning, hamster. It's sweet and somewhat demeaning all at once. It's the voice that I imagine she used when she and Dave had a conversation the other day about her finger-sucking and how it's impacting her dentition.

(Paraphrased, from conversations with Dave) He told her that she needed to stop the finger-sucking because it was giving her an overbite, and she essentially thanked him for his concern, but said her teeth were different than his and she liked them that way, thank you very much. he said "she was polite and dismissive at the same time." I'd kill to have that on video ...

Oh, and she just told Max "You're such a turd-y cat. We're going to have to take you back to the animal shelter because you're doing unkind things."

Defining awful: "Like if I got killed, that would be awful. That's what awful means."

When I told her cell walls give leaves structure, she said: "Structure means strong. I know that already. Structure starts with S and strong starts with S, that's why they mean the same thing."
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To read makes our speaking English good

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Sigh. Yesterday was a napless day, so bedtime came hard and early. Both girls were out cold within 20 minutes, and O slept like a rock until 5:45. Unfortunately, that early bedtime meant 5:45 was it, and mommy's a little cranky and dragging.

Bean was coloring and writing yesterday, and I asked her if she wanted to spell Max's name. We'd never talked about it before, and she usually asks me to spell new words while she writes. So she turned to her paper and wrote, and spelled out loud, "M-A-X". I was surprised, so I asked her how she knew how to spell his name.

"Because when I was in the car with daddy and we drove past Office Max and I saw Max was spelled M-A-X."

Okay then.

Later on, we were talking about something in the body, and she described it perfectly, then said "I know stuff like that, so I'm going to be a doctor when I grow up."

We had to do the parent-teacher-conference thing on Friday, after Thursday afternoon's whole "Bean kicked a teacher" episode. I think Dave and I were both braced for the teachers being crappy, but we were both pleasantly surprised by the tone - it was "what can we do to help Bean?" and not "Bean is a pain in the rear". We spent a good half hour talking amongst ourselves about behavior challenges, how Dave and I handle them at our homes, and what has and hasn't worked at at home and at school. I was really impressed with their wanting to find a way to help Bean be less of a turdburger, but not in a mean or judgy way.

I'm finding four to be a really challenging age. I think I spent like a week or two thinking it was an awesome age, but that brief period of disillusionment has crashed and burned in a horrifying way. We're talking Pompeii, but with more carnage. I know now why people call it the "F-ing Fours"

Bean is volatile, reactive and once in a while just generally unpleasant to be around. I hear that she's not my friend multiple times a day, there are screaming hissy fits at the slightest provocation, and she flails around if you try to approach her mid-fit, so I get hit and kicked a few times a week. It is incredibly hard not to hit back. Especially when I get repeated smacks.

What's is (or what was) your biggest challenge with your four-year-old? How did you deal with it?
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Mojo: What the French call a certain... I don't know what.

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Been a long week ...

Sucktastic date aside, no major issues. I'm just kind of in a slump ... I'm not loving my job anymore, I'm kinda blah in general and somewhere along the line I lost my mojo.

At least I still have Bean to keep me laughing.

The other day, the guys were here doing the lawn. I was sitting at my computer in my underwear and a tank top. Not a thong, because Bean comments on those ("Your underwear is up your butt, mommy. When mine is like that it's distracting."), but still, not something I'd answer the door in. Bean came into my office and wanted to see the lawn people. She was pulling the blinds away from the window and I asked her to stop.

Mommy: "Don't open the blinds"
Bean: "Why?"
Mommy: "I don't want everyone to see me in my underwear"
Bean: "They're not looking at your underwear, they're looking at the grass sweetie."

The "sweetie" was said in that kind and considerate, non-sarcastic way that only a 4-year-old can deliver. She was trying to be reassuring. I know she didn't intend to knock mommy's fragile ego down an extra notch or three, but there it is.

The kid cracks me up. Her unintentional comedy is way, way better than most peoples' intentional funny stuff.
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Happy July 4th

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It's been a day rife with Beanisms, so in addition to extending my wishes for a very happy July 4th to all, I'll spread the love and the smiles with some jems from my 4-year-old.

"I pooped in my panties at daddy's. I won't do that here because I care about you mommy."

"I like horses more than you could ever imagine."

"Thank you Earth from protecting us from dinosaurs. Thank you for bringing big rocks down and killing Tyrannosaurus."

"Look at how big (the corral) is and how many people are in it. We fitted in a lot of people. So everybody give yourself a hand."

Bean: "My favorite body parts are the heart and the tummy."
Mommy: "Why are those your favorite parts?"
Bean: "Because my heart cares about you and tummies grow babies. That's why I like them so much."

Simple as that.

I hope everyone has a safe and happy Fourth!
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Help me out here, Spock, I don't speak loser.

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Unfortunately, I do.

So, flew to Sarasota Thursday, landed, went to Kelly's and we hung out drinking beer and catching up.

Friday morning was the beach with Kelly and her girls and Kerri and her boys. The plan was for the kids to play while the grown-ups chatted, but Mother Nature had other ideas and kicked up some good-sized swells. I spent a lot of time in the water with Kelly's older daughter (9), who also happens to be my goddaughter. I did get in a nice long walk with Kerri from Crescent Beach to Siesta, though that wasn't really enough time after so many years. But she had to work that night and again Saturday, so the little bit of time had to be enough.

Kelly and the girls and I went back to her folks' place (they were out of town), spent some time in the pool and relaxed a bit. Then I got dressed and dolled up for my reunion and headed down to Casey Key. After a ridiculously long wait at the little bridge on Blackburn Pt road, I got there. I walked up to the entrance of the restaurant, panicked and went back to the car.

Why? I couldn't stop thinking about how I was just kind of the loser who left in tenth grade, and why would anyone care what I had been up to or what became of me. I had a 'what the hell am I doing here?!?' moment that I couldn't talk myself down from.

And I left.

I left because I was a coward who couldn't bear the thought of standing around like a dumbass if no-one really talked to me. I hate typing all this - it makes me feel like such an ass now, but I've never held back before so why stop now. Usually it doesn't cast me in such a bad light, though.

So, yeah - pansy supreme, that's me. I've had "I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me" in my head all evening long, as I procrastinated on blogging and copping to my loserdom. Even contemplated the old "I had a headache" line, but figured I needed to own the decision.

My Friday night was, instead, walking around on Island Park with Kelly's younger daughter, then hitting St. Armands Circle for some strolling, shopping and ice cream from Kilwin's. We got home around 10, and everyone crashed.

Saturday was a blast - Kelly dropped the girls off with friends for the day and night, and she and I ate, shopped and were somehow overserved when we went out at night. Breakfast at Yoder's, shopping downtown, Publix subs for lunch, sunset at Sharky's, beers at The Hub and Gilligan's and then dancing to a totally attention-starved 80's cover band at The Beach Club. (Seriously. Attention starved. Like after every song "Let's hear it Beach Club!" and stopping after the opening bars of something everyone really liked and not starting again until everyone was screaming for it. I started screaming "love me! LOVE! ME!!!!")

Sunday morning came around a little too early, but I got packed, hung out a little with Kelly over coffee, and then headed for my sister's house to see her and grab some lunch before I hit the airport. It was great to see her, too, though she at least knows how to make a plane reservation and come to see people in other states. Unlike some best friends who shall remain unnamed.

And then back to work today, where my jet-lagged brain didn't catch up until probably 2:00 or so. Next time, I burn an extra day off and make sure to give myself a day off between vacation and returning to work - because I was more or less worthless today and really, really don't have time for that with so much on my plate.

At least I had my girls back tonight, and between all the hugs and kisses and O's babbling, I caught a few good ones from the mouth of Bean:

I was born first so don't push me around Miss O because I'm growed.

Mommy: Can you tell me about what you drew?
Bean: It's art.

Bean (about 'sugar bugs' on her teeth): Why can't I see them?
Mommy: Because sugar bugs are microscopic.
Bean: That means I need a microscope to see them.

Mommy, can you turn the light on for me? I'm scared. My mind plays tricks on me. Minds do that sometimes.

Yes they do, sweetie. They even trick you into thinking you shouldn't do something that you really should have.
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Tomorrow's the day

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Thanks for all the outrage on Bean's behalf. I feel terrible dropping her off there, but Dave won't be back until today, so I'll meet him at the school in the morning. Hopefully the talk will go well and this will be Bean's last week with the devil woman.

I got an incident report yesterday that she deliberately shut another girl's arm in a door. And then I had to listen to Miss B start in on me about how Bean's becoming more aggressive. Now Bean's always been much more, ahhh, *tactile* than her friends. I think it's part of her sensory-seeking tendencies - we've talked about this before, haven't we? - and a friend pointed out recently that I really need to be more mindful of her sensory needs, as this shapes behavior.

So anyways, Miss B's comment and subtle criticism made something gel in my brain that I'd been working on, distractedly, all day - I wanted to know what the effects of shaming were on behavior.

What I found was consensus that a percentage of shamed kids become more hostile, that they act out their hurts in an aggressive way, in large part because they're being shamed about more appropriate ways of expressing their emotions. If Bean's feeling shortchanged and can't cry, that's a lot of emotion and energy to hold in, so it comes out somewhere else. She's definitely my daughter in that she really doesn't hold things in, so if she's getting beaten down for crying, that emotion is going to come out somewhere else.

I need to touch base with Dave again, as he has concerns that we don't have a Plan B in place if we give an ultimatum, but we could figure something out. The bottom line is that I am unwilling to have Bean in that class beyond this week. They can move her back or forward, but she is not staying there.

I am also going to be very clear that this teacher has been in consistent violation of their "no shaming" policy for a minimum of 6 months, and that I believe she's damaging to children and has no place in education. I'm loosely, loosely considering notes in the other two kids' folders to make the parents aware of the treatment their kids are experiencing ...

Yeah, it's "only" three kids out of maybe 18-20 that are experiencing this treatment, but there are another 15-17 who are being taught that belittling and humiliating people is fine and dandy.

I sent a note to Dave saying that if he didn't want to be involved in the "no Miss A" portion, I could tangent that to a separate discussion, one I'd do alone. I'm not sure if he feels as strongly about it as I do; frankly, I don't really care. He's on board for the Bean portion, and I appreciate that. But I feel like I really need to advocate for all the kids, and not just my own on this one.

I'll close with something a bit more lighthearted - a Beanism in potty humor:

Mommy! Look! It's a loooong poopie.
(One minute later)
Look! A whole family of poopie!!
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What a load of horse hooey.

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I love videos like this, because they make me feel better about how few "enrichment" activities I do with Bean. Everywhere we go, she learns stuff ("Mommy, would you like to tell me how they make airplanes?"), but I feel bad, sometimes, that she doesn't have more 'stuff' to do. Ballet, soccer, that kind of stuff.



I've been thinking a bit about Bean's preschool experience, trying to decide if she'd do better with "more" structure and learning (a la Montessori) or if a less structured, more play-based thing is better for her.

She's kind of like a mustang, to use an analogy she'd really appreciate if she got it - she's wild and unpredictable with moments of calm. And I'm torn between whispering and breaking. My general approach with her is whispering and earning her trust/respect, but when I'm frustrated with something she does (like not listening) I sometimes switch to 'breaking' mode.

Either way will yield a similar outward appearance: you can ride either horse. But one has been cowed into submission, the other, not so much.

Sigh. Parenting is just hard work sometimes ...

More later; been working on this since yesterday and just want to post something so I can get ready for work. I'll close with some Beanisms.

(Playing with her Ponies)
"Thank you for saving my life. That was pretty nice of you. I love you and I care about you.

"We better let our whole family come in. The whole group of horses.

"Only 8 seconds! 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Assignment complete - we're all in the house!

(At lunch at Subway)
"Ow! I just bruised my spinal cord!

- And I just realized I threw away the napkin I jotted the rest of her lunchtime jems on. Crap. There were some good ones, too. -

(Doing clean-up)
"Mommy! I just licked a bug off your table!
(Seriously. And she was delighted in both the action and in the reporting of the action.)

(Watching Ni Hao, Kai-Lan, and hearing Kai-Lan's Mandarin word for dig as 'waaa') "Waaa??!! What in the ... ? That's not a word!"

I love you more than all the other fishes.

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Man, Tuesday was rough; O woke me up a bit overnight Monday and into Tuesday, so I netted about 5 hours of interrupted sleep if I was lucky. Last night, I fell asleep with them and dozed from maybe 8:30-9:15, then got up for an hour before I went back to sleep.

And was up at 2:00. For no reason. And couldn't get back to sleep. I was yawning and tired, but subconsciously, I think, I was waiting for O to wake up, so I couldn't fall back to sleep. At 2:45, I was 'rewarded' - but it was Bean who woke up. I brought her to my room, took off her splints and eventually fell back to sleep.

O didn't make a peep until close to 5. Yay O! Boo mommy for being so conditioned to waking up :(

Some Beanisms:

Monday night, as I tucked her in and said goodnight, she kissed me and whispered: You're the greatest mommy I've ever seen!

Monday night again, when I left to get some cleaning done;
Mommy: I have to go clean. Sleep well. I love you!
Bean: I love you, too. Clean well.

Tuesday morning, coloring me a picture and scribbling some 'writing': This says dear mother, you read stories very nicely and very calmly. Sparkly Toola Roola is only for the girls. Sincerely, Bean.

She cracks me up.

Both girls started hot lunch delivery at school this week. Dave inadvertently packed a fail-safe lunch Monday a.m. (he forgot) so the girls missed out on Monday, but receceive their lunches yesterday. Bean did great, eating all of hers, and even O ate most of hers. They had beef taco roll-ups, corn and pears, all big hits with my kiddos. Today is supposed to be fish sticks, so I switched the girls to the vegetarian menu (veggie nuggets) instead, just in case they have issues with fish. They've gotten small amounts of seafood with me and I haven't seen an issue, but I don't want them to eat a ton of fish at school, KWIM? Their dad is pretty seriously allergic to it (or was, he had allergy testing a while back that said he *wasn't*, but I don't know if he's really tested that theory), so I worry they will develop issues as well.

Bean had happy faces all over her daily report - for eating well, for taking an hour and a half nap and for having a "great day today!"

She's cracking me up - she's named one of her Ponies "Flower Tuna" and she keeps talking in third person about what Flower Tuna and Pinkie are doing. Not Pinkie Pie, because she knows she doesn't have the 'official' Pinkie Pie. This one is just Pinkie. And Flower Tuna. Y'all just missed the Flower Tuna song ... priceless.
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Woman of leisure? Isn't that just British for unemployed?

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*Yawn*

Miss O is killing me on sleep, but this is a very short mommy week - Dave gets them back again tomorrow night and then I get four nights of quality sleep. I'm actually considering laying in supplies on my way home tomorrow night and then not leaving the house all weekend long. Just being a woman of leisure. I can sleep, get caught up on reading, not spend any money ... I mostly need to buy a lounge chair for the deck and some low-SPF sunscreen so I can get some sun and read some books outside. Yeah, yeah, yeah ... the sun is bad. I know. But I spent too many years living near a beach (and too many of those years with a kick-ass tan) not to *need* some kind of tan in the summer.

Actually, before my weekend of Zen, I think I'm going to indulge in a massage. My sciatic nerve is all wonked out again, and my neck and shoulders are just screaming for some deep-tissue work. The people I work with use Kisma Salon, and the prices for massages, hair cuts and color look really good. And it's an Aveda salon, which rocks. I had been considering one of the $49 massage places, but my office mate is a licensed massage therapist and she confirmed my suspicion that a $49 massage was akin to a $12 haircut - you might get a good one, but there's a reason that person isn't charging the big bucks.

As we lay in bed and let Miss O toddle around and be a goofball, Bean and I talked a bit about why she doesn't like going to daddy's. Besides the obvious that mommy isn't there. I also told her that she was never going to have her mommy and daddy in one house again, and that I was sorry it was such a hard thing for her to go through. I told her she could always call me when she's at her daddy's, and she could call him when she's here. Her response? "I don't ever want to call my daddy. I only want to call you!" Sweet and sad at the same time.

I got pretty much the same response when I was talking to her about how she loved her daddy and would miss him if she didn't see him often. Apparently I am the alpha and the omega and Dave is chopped liver in her book, at least to hear her talk. I don't believe for a second she wouldn't miss him, but for whatever reason, mommy trumps daddy these days.

A few Beanisms from her playtime this evening:

The attached-tail horses are mine and the not-attached-tail horses are Miss O's

When Miss O cries like that, she's going to make herself vomit. Just like I vomited at school that day. You didn't realize I was sick.

These horses love each other. They really do.

Don't fear - it's fishies. They don't bite.

And this, from when she spelled her name with refrigerator magnets, and noticed it sloped downward while she was sing-songing the letters:

I sing each letter lower because the letters are leaning down like that.

She's so damn clever sometimes ...
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It's funny how the Earth never opens up and swallows you when you want it to.

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Miss O woke up twice, I patted her back down pretty easily, so a decent night. Except it was like 8:30 by the time she finally fell asleep and she was up at 5.

She woke up at 4:30 and I got her back to sleep, thinking "yay! She should sleep until at least 6, maybe 7, since she was up so late." I think my giddiness had worn off and I had just fallen asleep when I heard her again. At 5:00.

So I went in and she was standing up doing the gesture and sound that mean "I'd like to go out and play now, please". I spent a good half hour trying to get her to go back to sleep, but at some point Bean woke up in my room and came barging in, asking "Why is she crying so much?" Before I could answer, she cut me off and said "I want to talk to Miss O. Miss O, do you want to come out and play with me?" To which Miss O gave a delighted "mmm-hm!" And mommy surrendered gracefully to the unstoppable force that is children in collusion.

It's going to be a looonnngg day.

Thankfully, Julia's fab website, Little Austinite, is chock full of events and places to go, so even on days that start at 5:00, I can fill the hours with kid-friendly shopping, dining, outings and home-based learning that should keep everyone but me from reaching for the bloody mary mix. I think we'll be doing a park this a.m., Lakeshore Learning in the afternoon and grabbing lunch at one of the many restaurants around town that make dining solo with two kids ... well, not exactly enjoyable, but better than it could be. If you are in the area and have not checked out Little Austinite, I do NOT know what you are waiting for - even the kidless set has something to gain, as the restaurant, venue and dining reviews come from grown-ups with stellar taste (if I do say so myself).

I'm still looking forward to doing 'Science at dinner: Anatomy of the Rotisserie Chicken' - Julia took something we can all lay hands on and, using her ginormous brain and years of high school AP biology, created a way cool science thing we can do at home for the littles. I know Bean is going to crap kittens when she sees all that stuff.

Random Beanisms:

Miss O, I wanted to show you how I became a rattlesnake.

Mother, I have a surprise for you (points at a picture of the colon) this is where the poop comes out.

I'm thrilled to see you alive, mommy. That means happy. I'm happy to see you alive. Animals think alive means dead, cuz some animals think it's a different way of designing what alive means. They sometimes think people mean alive means dead. But that doesn't make sense.

Bean: All the kids were screaming and hurting my eardrums
Mommy: Where were they screaming?
Bean: In my eardrums.
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Is it a gathering, a shindig or a hootenanny?

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Party Planning 101, a la Bean.

Mommy: We're going to invite C, Rachel, Ayssa and Mathias. Do you want to invite anyone from school?
Bean: I want to invite all the girls from my class, but none of the boys.
M: You can't do that - you either have to invite everyone or just pick 4 people you want to come to your party.
(Mommy making arbitrary rules because I don't want to plan for that damn many kids, especially as most won't RSVP or show but I'll still have to have food, supplies, etc for all of them in case they do.)
B: I want to pick 10.
M: How about 6?
B: Okay. I want to invite Ella A, Ella D, Nathan, Caden and Jackson.
M: You can pick one more person.
B: I pick ... Sophie.
M: Okay, that's 6.
B: Ayssa, Rachel, C, Ella, Ella, Sophie, Nathan, Caden, Jackson and Mathias.
M: Do you want to have cake or cupcakes?
B: I want a pony cake.
M: No problem. Where do you want to have your party? At home? The gym? A bounce place?
B: I want to have it at the soccer place.
M: We can do that.
B: All the girls will sit at one table and the boys will have to sit somewhere else. And only Ayssa can sit next to me because her birthday is in July too.
M: Okay.
B: Only kids with birthdays in July can sit next to me.
M: {pauses, not wanting to break it to her that it's possible one of the boys she's inviting from her class has a July b-day}
B: And even Miss O ... Miss O can come too.
M: What about all the other little brothers and sisters, can they come?
B: Yes. All the babies can play soccer with Miss O.
M: That will be fun. Do you think they'll enjoy that?
B: Yes. But Miss O will run the fastest and beat the other babies because she's the oldest. The babies can play soccer and the big kids can eat cake. Only, the girls will have cake and the boys can have cupcakes.
M: Sweetie, there's cake *or* cupcakes, not both.
B: {thinks} Cake. But the boys can have pieces without frosting and the girls will have all the frosting. And the girls can sit with me but the boys will sit on a different bench.
M: Everyone gets frosting.
B: But no boys can sit with me.
M: Okay then.
B: And then I can invite everyone back to my house to play with me. All day.
M: Look at the dog! {because the joy of the party continuing all. day. is just too great to contemplate}

I got Miss O to fall asleep sans nursing last night. It took a good 30 minutes plus, but she slept until 5:30. She woke a couple times, but settled herself down. Bean's still asleep, and we've got a good hour and a half or so before we have to leave for school. I want enough time to talk to Miss O's teacher a bit and to stop at Starcracks. Because y'all know I did *not* get to bed early enough to not be tired when woken at 5:30.

I'm so excited about two My Little Pony parties in the span of a month or so. My friend's daughter is obsessed with the Ponies as much as Bean is, so she asked for a Pony party. Bean's been digging on the Pony party idea for awhile, and no amount of 'how about a Princess party?' can distract her from her Pony party. If my place wasn't so small (and my backyard such a dirt pit) I'd have it here, but I just don't have the right-sized house for a party. Now I have to make a reservation for Soccer Zone.

Another bedtime without nursing, this one a little smoother than last night. Let's hope she can do this ... although typing it pretty much assures me that it won't last ... le sigh.
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