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Dum Dum

15 Jul
Dum dum

You new Dum-dum. You give me gum-gum.

Sometimes you do things that are really embarrassing, right?  Like cutting your finger really badly while making dinner, thus briefly terrifying your toddler by running around with a bloody finger while trying to clean the cut, find, open, and apply the bandaids with your other hand?

I know this is no big deal and something that happens to people every day, but I feel like SUCH AN IDIOT when this sort of thing happens.  Seriously.  It makes me question my sanity.

Just tell me you’ve done similar things?

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More from me:

Magic pill: another new diet pill promises big things

Recipe: apple fried chicken

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Blips

28 Jun

If you have a moment, please take some time to go and vote for my Mamavation application!  You can see my application video here, and you can “vote” for me by heading to Twitter and tweeting this: Hey @bookieboo! I want @SkinnySushi to be the next #Mamavation Mom. She has my support! http://bit.ly/zqUxa. As always, your support means SO much to me.

I’m super busy this week and feeling distracted, so here’s my post in bullets…

ASL alphabetsource

  • we saw some friends this weekend and one of them mentioned that the daycare where his five month old son is going will have him fully versed in sign language by one year old.  Evi is almost fourteen months and knows four signs. I might suck.
  • those same friends did not mention the fact that I am MUCH thinner than when they saw me last.  I continue to be puzzled by people’s reluctance to mention that you might look skinnier.
  • our second car is STILL not fixed.  Every time they fix something, they find some new problem.  Let this be a lesson to those of you who want to save money by buying a car at auction.  This one has been useless since DECEMBER and, as such, I have been housebound for as long.
  • What is the world coming to?  Italy, France, and the US are out of the World Cup?  We bought Evi an Italia tee shirt this weekend anyway, and she looks mighty cute in it.  I wanted one too, but I’m waiting for clearance sales.  I am cheap.
  • I may also suck as a wife.  I got excited for Fathers Day and (with Evi’s help) made Aaron a card.  I got him a copy of a book he wanted but since the book won’t be released until September, I also got him a three month subscription to a sci-fi book site where he can download books to his Kindle.  It was a great day, I made him breakfast and brownies.  And then I got to thinking… and decided I was irritated that I didn’t get a present on Mothers Day.  It’s not about getting “stuff” but… I was bugged.  When I said something to Aaron a few days later, he apologized and said that he’d tried to make sure I had a break on Mother’s Day and didn’t have to do anything in terms of cooking, cleaning, or child rearing.  And you know what?  He DID do that.  I so suck.  Upon further discussion, we realized it’s just a difference in how we acknowledge occasions.  I’m a present-giver, so for me it’s harder not to get a gift.  He’s an action guy, so he doesn’t mind no gifts if he gets something else, like a day off.  We’ve both agreed to do two things… #1 – work harder to acknowledge each other in ways that are meaningful to the receiver, and #2 – make sure we’re paying attention to the ways the other person might be acknowledging us in their way.

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More from me:

Mamavation Monday: motivation (includes a video blog!)

Beach and Picnic Wines

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Fear and shame

16 Jun

chesssource

I have a fear, and it’s something I’m not proud of.  In fact, I am not sure I should even be talking about it here on the blog, or anywhere on the internet… but I’ve always been open here, and I’m just not sure where else to share something like this.

I have a horrible fear, one that explains all the worrying I do about Evi being a late crawler, walker, or talker.  For reasons I’m not sure I can name, let alone understand, I am terrified that Evi won’t be smart.

I’m an awful person, right?  The thing is, I already know she’s healthy and happy, which are my biggest concerns.  I know she is loved, safe, and joyous.  But right or wrong, I really want her to be smart.  I don’t need her to be a genius, but I so badly want her to be above average, more than capable… (here comes the bad bad part)… like I was.

It’s unforgivably arrogant, isn’t it?  I was always so proud to be smart, to be reading early, ahead of my classmates in my academic pursuits, to be chosen for gifted and talented programs… and I want the same for my daughter.  Is that wrong?

Today, as I sat in the floor with her looking at animal flashcards and lamenting my general ignorance when it comes to educating a toddler, I realized how much it scares me to think she might not be a smart kid.  Is it all up to me?  Is it my job to make her smart?  If it is, am I doing everything I can?  If it’s not, are there things I can do to help?

I should clarify here that I see a huge difference between smart and intelligent.  Intelligence is not easily measured, and is something everyone has in different ways.  Intelligence is about how you solve problems and how you see the world, and a lot of it is based on experience… I think.  Smart is… smart is good grades?  Smart is reading early?  Smart is a head for numbers or letters or science?

I swear, sometimes I feel like I am completely unprepared to be a mother, and I worry that I come off like a totally neurotic, completely ridiculous person in these posts.  I swear I don’t spend my days wringing my hands about my daughter’s future grades.  It’s just something that weighs on my mind, in the background while we play and laugh and cook together.  So tell me… is this normal?  Should I be worried?  And most importantly, what should I be doing to help her?  What are the best possible ways to ensure my daughter has the best education she can from me right now?

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More from me:

Getting through the tough days: eight tips to stay on track

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Harry Potter High School

19 Apr

Lately, every time I have a really bizarre dream it features people from high school.  It’s like high school is some long forgotten place in my brain where only truly bizarre things happen.  Last night I dreamed that I was staying in this old village (very Harry Potter feeling to it) with a bunch of other high school people (some of whom were people I actually knew in high school while some were random.)

The dream was just me going through the motions… I went to a party, I ate some food, I went to the bathroom.  Really, I find myself in the bathroom in dreams a lot.  For some reason, in this particular scene it was a co-ed bathroom and some girl was telling some guy that he should give her number to his boyfriend.  She then told me, confidentially at the bathroom sink, that the boys were in fact not gay but straight and just didn’t know it yet.

My brain is bizarre.  So then I run into this girl I went to high school with, only in the dream she has super SUPER blond hair, and she is acting sort of odd around me.  Finally she touches me on the arm, then she makes this weird angry/scared face and hisses, then turns into this weird smoky, floating monster thing.  In this totally frightening voice, she goes on to tell me that she’s going to have to stop me from meeting “him.”

Even in the dream, I’m all him?  Him who?  At this point we’ve found ourselves walking down this narrow cobblestone street, and she’s telling me something about only seeing golden light in me (?) so she knows I’m the one he’ll look for.

Who?  My brain is registering something here, like who is this person and wait… am I dreaming?  But then it gets all exciting again and I dive right back into the dream.  I sit down on a random hay bale (because, you know, there is one in the street) and am contemplating the meaning of all of this golden light, mystery man business, which somehow makes at least some sense to dream me, and then there is a lot of noise from the other end of the street.  Around a curve comes this small caravan of people leading horses and carrying bags, looking like they’ve been traveling for a while and are ready for a rest.  The man in the front looks at me and I feel… something.  A connection is made, and somehow I realize that is the mystery guy, and instead of being bothered or irritated I am intrigued.

(Man, sometimes I hate dream me.  I will also, grudgingly, admit that my brain is secretly twelve, because the mystery guy… is fricking Edward Cullen.  Really?  Really, brain?)

The dream starts to sort of wind down as I am waking up, but I do remember a scene in an old library with me and the guy… talking about golden light, and something about me being able to see the future, and then there was some odd intense moment where we almost kiss but then he has to save me from the smoky, floaty monster thing…

So, what does this mean?  Well, if you look up dream meanings then apparently I should explore the spiritual bonds of the relationships I made in high school (no, thank you,) I either have sex on the brain or am feeling emotionally drained, and I am feeling the need to relieve some instinctual burdens.

Or, I watched the world’s most horrific, terrifying, manipulative video clip last night after I drank a glass of wine.  Choose your own adventure, I suppose.  It is still a  massive step up from when I used to dream about my teeth falling out every time I was dealing with stress…

Zerberting

3 Dec

I’ve totally stolen this word from Miss Zoot.  The other day, she posted about how she has been having a hard time lately maintaining her patience with her kids.  I think this is something every parent goes through, and any parent who spends most of their day at home with their kids probably has a bigger issue than others.

This morning, I read her new post about how much better her day was when she managed to stay patient with her kids.  She said that she just concentrated on taking deep breaths and, when all else failed, giving a good zerbert to the belly.  There is nothing so satisfying as the deep down, belly laughs I get when I give Evi’s belly a good zerberting.  Raspberrying?  Whatever word you use, I’m guessing you know what I mean.  I was so enamored of Zoot’s word (zerberting) that I’ve co-opted it.

Anyway, I am ashamed to admit that I sometimes lose my temper with Evi.  I never yell or take it out on her, but sometimes I just get really frustrated and cranky and I frequently speak to her more harshly than I should when that happens.  Then I just make myself feel worse because I feel like an idiot and a big, mean bully for getting frustrated with my seven month old.  I mean really?  Who’s the adult here?  Oh yes, me.  When I get frustrated with her I feel like the dreaded “bad mother.”

Now, for clarification, I do know that I am NOT, in fact, a bad mom.  Actually, at least when I am caffeinated and relaxed, I think I do a pretty good job.  But in those moments when I’ve just uttered a cranky “oh, come on” to my infant daughter, I feel like a total waste of parenting space.

So today, if I feel cranky, I will stop and zerbert a baby belly.  I will NOM on her neck or hands or feet, which always makes her laugh out loud, and I will wallow in the musical sound of my daughter’s laughter instead of in my own cranky-faced weirdness.  Just writing it down makes me feel calmer, more prepared for the day.  Because really?

Evi goes in this morning to get her flu booster shot, and to have her head remeasured.  When we were there last time, her head measurement jumped to the 90th percentile after having always been at the 50th.  I am willing to bet that it is either nothing or a measuring mistake on someone’s part (though they did measure three times) but since she was coming in anyway for her flu booster, they figured it couldn’t hurt to remeasure.  I am hoping they weigh her again too, so I can relax a little more about her food intake, which has admittedly improved a lot lately.

After her appointment, I will be headed to an afternoon at my friend Nicole’s house, and I am super excited to see her and her awesome boys!

Maybe when I get back I will feel prepared to tackle the big blog post about my weight, my lack of motivation to exercise, and my seeming incapability when it comes to getting back on track with weight loss….

P.S.  I was just going through my tags to tag this post and I saw my “Little Sushi” tag.  Sometimes it makes me so sad to think I only use it now for memorials and memories.  After two plus years and a beautiful baby girl, sometimes my heart still breaks at the loss of my sweet man.  You are heavy on my heart today, my sweet Aodin.

Eavesdropping

26 Oct

I am sitting at Panera listening to a group of women talk about their kids.  These are the odd, vague generalizations I am hearing:

  • breastfed babies don’t get fat
  • once they are breastfed they won’t take formula ever

These are the sort of comments that crack me up.  Are they true for your kids?  Sure, maybe they are.  But they are by no means some sort of kid facts that are true across the board.  I was especially amused when they increased their volume while discussing the worth of breastfeeding as I fed Evi her bottle.

They also launched into a discussion of the latest parenting scandal, in which Disney is offering refunds to Baby Einstein purchasers because it not only does not benefit kids but can, apparently, harm them.  My issue here is that the article that explains how children can be harmed does not name the videos by name.  In fact, it just generally says that children under two should never watch television.  Of course, it then goes on to explain that the harm comes from children doing ANY sedentary activity (including drawing and reading) for several hours at a time.  The study was commissioned to address obesity concerns in children.

Are our children getting fatter?  Well, sadly, yes.  However, that means that the article set out to prove a particular point and, as such, is a bit biased.  I don’t believe for one instant that children should sit in front of the television for hours, but I do think that there is ZERO harm in a little bit of tv now and then.  I also think that there is nothing wrong with a few hours a day of reading or drawing, as long as you’re making sure they also get at least an hour of real, aggressive physical activity per day as well.

As in everything else, it is all about balance.  BALANCE!

Worst

8 Sep

I had a horrible morning this morning!  I got up late, bruised my chest while trying to get the baby and the dog out of the house, got lost on the way to the groomer, stalled the car twice trying to leave the parking lot, and had to drive an hour and a half out of my way because I locked myself out of the house.  All of the driving also happened in the rain, which now makes me nervous after the accident.

I am finally home, comfortable, and sitting next to a beautiful napping baby.  I am really hoping the day gets MUCH better.