Lily had a doozie of a temper tantrum that lasted for about an hour last week. It took her about 45 minutes to recover - I am STILL recovering this week from it. Thankfully they don’t happen very often, but man - when they do, I feel like I’m living in an alternate universe where everything is said in a screaming, stereo-turned-up-to-11, nothing-will-ever-be-right-again way. Even Arden covered her ears and begged for mercy. I am fairly certain that Lily is going through this due to some adjustment issues with her new classroom. This week has been much better.
I’m sort of taking the day off tomorrow. The concert I was supposed to go to with Sara was rescheduled - for MAY. Major, major bummer. However, she had told clients she’d pick up some items for them at the Container Store (because Richmond still is not cool enough to have one), so I’m going to Northern Virginia just to check things out with her and keep her company. I could use some time off, and since I haven’t booked my massage yet, this is a good second choice.
We had a busy weekend. Mike and I reorganized the garage, which made us both feel like we had accomplished something. However, it was Mike’s weekend to experience male PMS so he was a little on the crabby side. I don’t think he enjoyed it quite as much as I did. After, I headed over to Sara and Tim’s to help them with their unexpected move. They are moving into a beautifully renovated home on Richmond’s North Side, which is a close second to my first choice of living back in the city. I had one of those weird moments when her new neighbor crossed the street from her gorgeous, restored Victorian mansion. She wanted to know if Sara and Tim had kids (they do not). She was disappointed, because she apparently has her own brood living in this exceptionally cool, different, beautiful home - with city schools and all. I’m also fairly certain she doesn’t send her children to the aforementioned schools, which necessitates having to afford very expensive private schools. However, just for one moment I allowed myself to daydream about living in a big old house built in the early 1900s that Mike and I would lovingly restore contractors would restore in our imaginary world where we had money to pay for that, and our kids would go to school and trick or treat in neighborhoods full of character and people from all different walks of life, instead of the sterile and oh-so-pristine-white suburbs where we currently reside. It’s a fantasy for so many reasons, but it was fun while it lasted.
I know most people think I’m nuts, but those few years we spent living within the city limits made me a rabid fan of historic homes, the old tree-lined neighborhoods that made up the early days of Richmond, being close to the river, and the sheer diversity of the people that made up our neighbors converted me forever. If not for the children, I don’t think much could have gotten us out of the city. We moved reluctantly, to newer home construction, granite countertops and perfectly manicured lawns. There are more minivans than people out here.
I’m only partially making fun of myself. We had good reasons for coming here - did I mention the schools? My neighborhood is chock full of kids for our kids to play with (and egg houses with later in life). The houses hold their value, the neighbors are polite, and there’s a private swimming pool. It’s a good place to grow up.
But driving past our old home on 45th Street still fills me with longing and nostalgia. I know it’s probably just rose-colored glasses, but that’s where our first home was, and we LOVED that house. I have such great memories there, of the walks we would take, the crazy neighbors, living without a community association, the arts festival that took place annually a few blocks away, and all the great houses. It was our original nest - it was tons of fun while it lasted.
Sometimes growing up sucks!!!!
Posted September 11, 2007 in
Parenting
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It’s one of those work days where I can’t seem to focus on anything, everything is irritating me, and I’m exceptionally whiny. I’m nearly as annoying as my 4 year old when she whines, and that’s saying a lot. It’s almost as if 30 days of non-stop motion at work has caused me to be incapable of proactive planning and dealing with a normally-paced workday.
Then I stopped and glanced back at what the last 45 days have been like. And I realized, I’m fried. Burned. Toasted. Stick a fork in me, I’m well-done. In my previous life, I would have put a vacation time request in, taken a week off (paid, I might add), and kicked back. Not so much now.
Mike appears to have hit a new level of stress with my business and has a permanent look of worry on his face whenever we think, or talk, about money. This coincides with our best month ever - which is great - and also with me being beyond tired, a little bitchy, and entirely unmotivated at this particular instant in time. He has every right to be frustrated, and I’m not going to take that away from him. It’s got to be frustrating to be in his shoes and know that your wife, with the amount of hours she works, could be pulling in serious cake in corporate America. Unfortunately, that same, afore-mentioned wife nearly pukes when thinking about working in the professional services industry again. All those politics, ass-kissing, platitudes, travel, and worst of all, the pantyhose. Ugh. So I’ll give Mike his irritation and concern for our monetary situation. My lack of steady paycheck for the past year has put us in debt personally, and that really bums him out. However bummed out he feels, multiply those feelings by 10 and you’re getting close to how it makes me feel.
Are we turning the corner? Eh. Sort of. Our high-powered financial analyst (aka my father) looked at the reports from this past month and told me the truth, as he always does. We’re going to be doing a lot more consulting in the upcoming months if we want to be able to survive long enough to see the online businesses prosper. Not what I wanted to hear, but probably something I needed to hear, even though I already knew it.
So I’m burned out, and I need a vacation. I’m not going to get one, but I need to find a way to refocus myself so that I can be proactive again at work. All those orders were great - god, you have to LOVE nap mat season while it lasts. I have a lot more understanding a respect for all the shop owners I knew in Traverse City who made an entire year’s worth of money during June, July and August - and how they must have felt when the leaves started to fall and all you had to look forward to was 9 months of hellish winter and lake effect snows along with no customers and no money. I’m glad that we have 2 other businesses that aren’t seasonal, because without them, I’d be REALLY bummed out. I also just have to say how thankful I am that I no longer live in Northern Michigan, much as I pine for it during the summer months when I am drowning in sweat and humidity and sweltering heat.
The girls are back at school, adjusting to their new classrooms. Lily’s going through a particularly whiny and argumentative phase - it’s like she’s 1 1/2 again and her favorite word is “no”. I thought we were done with that - apparently I was wrong. Arden’s actually getting a little bit better and I’m learning how to avoid temper tantrums without giving in to our little Hitler’s whims - it’s an art form with her, really. Such a delicate balance between melt-down and cheerful happy blonde girl. Last night I had an interesting conversation with Lily, during which I was reminded of how much she picks up on what I say. It went something like this:
“Mommy, my brain is getting me all, you know, spastic!”
“What do you mean?” (knowing full well, since at the time she was jumping all over her bed and me, buck naked, as I tried to encourage her firmly to put on some underwear)
“My brain is making me spastic - my brain is going, ‘mmmmmm mmmmm hmmmmm la la la la la mmmmmmm’. My brain is singing to me and making me hyper!”
Apparently I’ve been telling her she’s spastic too frequently . . .
This was one of those holiday weekends that makes you feel like you need a vacation after all the fun and festivities have ended. Apologies in advance to my mother who is going to give me a hard time for writing that.*
Mike took Friday off to spend time with the girls - which they loved. LOVED. By the time I got home around 1 PM they had no need for me. They were all about the daddy. It was great, for a change. Sometimes not being needed is a fabulous thing. I ran back to our embroiderer to pick up an “emergency” nap mat (again, my question is - how emergent can a nap mat really be? It’s not like we’re providing donor organs or something - no one is going to keel over and die due to lack of nap mat - yet, still, we have nap mat emergencies). When I got back, we headed off to the pool and Jennifer with Sophia in tow met us later. Sophia lasted about 40 minutes before beginning to spaz. Sometimes it makes me feel better to see other children misbehaving like mine do - throwing things, drinking pool water (can you say ROTOVIRUS?), ignoring their parents, doing the opposite of what is asked. I guess misery, at times, really does love company.
Saturday we spent the morning at the pool with my parents before my dad heading to southside to bag up some serious groceries at Ukrops. My mom hung out with us and ate hamburgers before I took her home.
Sunday we got the girls up and dressed in their required Uniforms of Cuteness (as commanded by my mother) for a visit to Williamsburg. My parents and I met up with Mike, Anja, baby Mia, and my Aunt Paula, who was in town visiting her first grandchild. We had a nice time and the girls were surprisingly well-behaved, even though they had to sit through a 90 minute adult luncheon. They got all hopped up on sugar and candy and ice cream and only got really sassy and cranky a few times. By nearly 3 PM Arden was about to melt down and I needed to get her in the car for a nap. I had spent the majority of the day chasing after one or the other, barking orders, trying to get them to listen, hold hands as they crossed the street, EAT their food, chew with their mouths closed, No you CANNOT have that giant stuffed alligator in the window of the toy store that costs $400, making trip after trip to the bathrooms, wiping a lot of bottoms, and trying to keep both girls corralled. I was pretty tired by the end of it (and yes, mom, you did help me, thank you). On the way back I remarked quite snottily that I was not doing that again - it was too much trying to keep them in check in Williamsburg. Much as I love going to Williamsburg, going there with children is not my idea of a good time. All I could do was look longingly at all the stores I love and walk right on by. It was a good thing - no money to spend anyway. Too much time in the car, stroller, and eating crap food. Arden fell asleep almost immediately; Lily stayed awake being loud and chatting with her grandmother the entire way back. On a happy note, I can’t get enough of Mia (and Mike and Anja, too), and I never get to see my aunt, so it was worth it despite the other things involved.
I had about 30 minutes of downtime before Mike’s family arrived. His dad was in town for a variety of things, including a Richmond Braves baseball game, Hayden’s first day of school, and celebrating his birthday. Mike had gone to the baseball game while I was in Williamsburg and was picking up KFC for everyone. After I nearly had a nervous breakdown when I realized I couldn’t figure out how to get the VCR to play and act as the electronic babysitter so I could get a few minutes of downtime, the doorbell rang and Alex, Christine, Voz, Matt and Hayden and Sybil showed up. We all hung out outside (it was gorgeous on Saturday) and had some drinks and chatter until Mike and Lois got back with the food. We watched Sybil and Alex’s wedding video until both girls started to run and jump on Voz and I realized it was time for bath. Little girls and wedding videos don’t really mix. I took them upstairs so the rest of the family could watch without constant interruptions. Sybil looked exhausted from a long day on the road, at the game, and of course, from all that chatter, so they left early. We cleaned up a bunch of mess and I sat, mouth hanging open, drooling on myself as I stared out at nothing until I finally went to bed. I don’t even remember talking to Mike that night - I think he was around somewhere!
Monday we got up and met everyone except Lois, who was forced to work, at Bogey’s for some mini-golf. My patience and nerves were both shot for some reason. Arden started complaining about something as soon as we got there. I went to a nice happy place in my head where I had no children. I kept thinking, Oh, that poor man over there with the screaming nearly-three-year-old! And then I’d realize, that’s my husband! It was actually a fabulous thing, detaching like that.
Lily and Hayden actually golfed together for most of the course, which was great, because usually Hayden is wanting to smack Lily silly (a rhyme!) over her stealing his toys or bothering him. It was awesome watching the two of them get along in blissful harmony for a time. After the mini-golf, the Del Bueno bunch headed over to Applebee’s for a big family lunch. All the children were well-behaved and I actually had an adult conversation with Christine and Voz. Voz managed to keep the Capital One slang to a minimum and I understood about 80% of what he said, so I was feeling pretty smart.
Home for nap napless time and Arden had trouble falling alseep with her “fumb” (thumb). Lily just decided she was not going to sleep, and told me so. “Mommy, I WILL NOT sleep. I WILL NOT rest. I am going to PLAY QUIETLY in my room and that is that.” Okay, Hitler, whatever you say. Mike ran out to purchase a birthday cake for his dad’s birthday outing later that night, and to grab some toothbrush covers for Lily (the only thing on her school supply list I hadn’t been able to find). I folded laundry and organized the bags for preschool (2 pairs of clean underwear - check. 2 changes of clothing - check. A huge check to cover the first week of preschool - check). Mike got home, grabbed the girls who weren’t sleeping, and took them to meet Alex and Sybil for ice cream. Then he took them to the park. Have I mentioned how awesome he is? Yes, he is.
Everyone got home, I redid girl hair, put on new Uniforms of Cuteness, got in the shower, did my own hair and makeup, and headed out to Chianti for Alex’s dinner. Mike and I remarked that we both had a bad feeling about this. We were kind of right. The food was good, the service was not. We didn’t get out of there until after 8.30 PM. The girls were going nuts with boredom and spastic energy. Lily at one point puffed up her cheeks (a game we play). Normally she puffs them up full of air, I squeeze them, and she giggles as the air comes out. This time, smarty-pants filled her cheeks with PINK LEMONADE. I had no idea, squeezed them, and a fountain of pink lemonade sprayed all over me and the floor. Fabulous! We had cake, sang a song, and begged the waitress to come give us our bill. By 9 PM both girls were in bed and Mike and I were both comatose.
Next Labor Day, I plan to relax more by the pool if possible.
The girls were both so excited to start their new classrooms today. They must have asked me 8 times on the way to school, “Mommy, is Arden REALLY going to Yellow Room? And am I REALLY going to Gold Room?” Then Arden would say, “I GO TO YELLOW ROOM! YAY!!!!” She didn’t look so thrilled when I left her in Yellow Room, but Lily gave me her usual shove out the door and turned back to greet her new friends and put her things away in her real, big girl locker. I myself was thrilled to be going back to work. . . .
*Mother’s disclaimer: Neither of my children slept much over the past 4 days. Arden has stopped sucking her thumb and has a hard time falling asleep and Lily was just too excited about everything this weekend to sleep. That, combined with short to no naps, and a lot of activity, caused the children to act in varying degrees of badness. There were also extreme moments of sweetness and light, in which I thanked the gods above for giving me such angels. However, the majority of the weekend was not like that and I just want everyone to know that yes, I still love my kids.
Those who have known me a while know that I used to laugh my ass off at the crazy shit mothers did and said to each other, all in the name of being “good parents”. I always called it “competitive mothering”, and this past week, I ended up feeling like one of those women I make fun of.
I explained to Mike that with kindergarten looming in Lily’s future (well, her 12-months-from-now future), I feel like I did during her first year of life. Uncoordinated, uneducated, a little bit fearful, apprehensive, and paranoid to make a mistake. I’d almost forgotten how HARD it was to feel that way. With Arden, even if I hadn’t know what I was doing, I was too tired to be aware of my incompetence.
Lily is entering a pre-K class on September 4, and I went to the orientation blissfully ignorant and happy that they were giving her structure and working on the basic skills that will enable her to learn to read in kindergarten. I didn’t really pick it apart or worry too much about it - I think I was more focused on how I was going to help her decorate her first big-girl locker. Then I spent some time on the phone with Emma’s mom (also in Lily’s class). She’s got an older daughter in college, is very smart, and highly up-to-date on education. She was having a fit of worrying about the curriculum in the pre-K classroom. (The fact that she referred to it as “curriculum” should have clued me in that I wasn’t really with the program). She met with the director of the school, researched Montessori programs, and reported back to me on her conversations with the school. It turns out the that “curriculum” is actually going to be just fine, and thank god I have smarter, more with it parents to explain it all to me. One thing that was made clear: Lily’s school’s primary function is not to teach her to read this year - they are leaving that for kindergarten.
I thought everything was fine, until the following day when I picked up a “Reading Express” flyer or something like that from her folder at school. One of Mike’s pet peeves about where Lily goes is that he feels he is nickel-and-dimed to death. Everything is extra - and it’s fabulous that they offer things like Computer Bus, Gym Bus, Ballet, and now Reading Distress Express. However, each of these little activities runs in the hundreds of dollars per quarter, and I am constantly fielding questions like “Why can’t I take ballet like Kate?” or, “Why can I not go on Computer Bus like I used to?” Well, honey, it’s because Mommy’s business isn’t really paying her these days and Mommy can’t afford to sign you up, sweet cakes!!! I checked over the flyer and it’s all about a class, $200 per quarter, 8 sessions per quarter, giving your child the “necessary foundation” for reading success. So I took this to mean that if we didn’t fork over the money, Lily would be foundationless. It sent me into a tailspin, especially when another phone conversation with Emma’s mom yielded the fact that Emma would definitely be taking all four quarters of the Reading Rainbow stuff.
Mike’s take on this? “I don’t remember my parents signing me up for reading enrichment programs before I ever entered school, and frankly, I think this is a little over the top.” I tend to agree with him, and then I start to freak - but what if we don’t, and Lily’s behind everyone else? What if she spends her life in therapy determining that the reason she is a failure in life is due to missing Reading Spasms class??? I mean, I am poking fun at this - and tempering my fear with sarcastic posturing - but what pisses me off is that I feel like a pawn in the game to get parents to cough up money by using fear marketing techniques. Perhaps we should employ that method in our online stores. It would be something like this:
“Visit us at http://www.napmatsandmore.com to ensure your child’s educational future. Did you know that without a high-quality, allergen-free nap mat, your child could be seriously brain-damaged during nap time? Sure, you can skip the nap mat, but studies have shown that kids without a NapMatsAndMore.com mat will score 40% lower on standardized testings and also have a tendency to drool and sleepwalk. So why take the risk?”
That’s how I feel a lot of the time. Am I messing with Lily’s future as a computer programmer if I skip the $250 quarterly Computer Bus? Will she end up an illiterate street bum because we passed on Reading Rugrats? I don’t know - but I’m trying to go with my gut and not let what all the other parents are doing affect our decisions. Damn, it’s hard. It’s like peer pressure in reverse. The school says, “We don’t teach them to read because that’s a skill they learn in kindergarten, but hey, while we have your attention, here’s a flyer on a reading program we offer during school time to teach them to read. No pressure!” It just seems like a major mixed message.
My head hurts. I’m going to bed.
Posted August 25, 2007 in
Daycare,
Parenting
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