There is a rain forest sale at H's school today. The 5th grade makes baked goods and crafts and sells them through out the school to raise money. There were lots of questions- whats a rain forest, why does a rain forest need money and so on. Mostly, H is excited for the sale. She has 2 dollars to spend. In the car on the way to school after riding in silence for a while she asked "Are we allowed to get something for our sister?" Of course! I said my eyes filling with tears. The rest of the way to school, H was saying to S, "do you want to have a treat after school? H will get something for us", and so on. H often speaks in the 3rd person by the way. J and I call it twitter speak. I was so proud that H thought of getting something for S on her own- in fact the thought hadn't even occurred to me.
S loves her sister dearly, but so far doesn't go out of her way for her the way H does for S. There are some instances of S looking out for H, the other day they were playing with balloons and H's balloon became a casualty of our evil popcorn ceiling, resulting in H lying in a crying heap on the floor. S offered up her balloon- but for the most part she looks out for number one.
****
In other news, S is getting the hang of the potty. Yesterday the girls and I went to get a pumpkin, or rather 2 very large pumpkins and 3 very small ones. As we pulled up to the farm, S announced she had to go to the bathroom. No cute potty talk for this one. "I need to poop. I need a bathroom." The potty? I say, as if I don't know what a bathroom is. She sighs, yes. The potty. Luckily,the farm where we were had a very nice potty, and even better I knew where it was. S sits on the potty (in the bathroom, sorry) tries for a minute, and then looks at me perplexed, "Its not workin!" H now has to use the bathroom, and is jumping up and down holding herself. I tell S we'll try again later, let H take her turn. 3 minutes later, S takes care of business in her diaper, and I feel awful. I try to exlain how proud I am that she knew she had to go. She just looked at me and nodded. But.. we're getting there.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
rock and roll and acorns
S has a rock collection. She picks up rocks where ever we go and lines them all up on the bookshelf. I put them all in a box the other day, thinking she wouldn't notice, my plan was to slowly ease them out to the garden. About half an hour later I saw S frozen at the bookshelf- her lip out, her eyes big and wet,
"My wocks!"
"Here they are", I said, showing her the box.
The relief flooded over her face. I guess the rocks will be with us for a while.
S also has a nature collection. She has acorns in her pockets and scattered through out the house. She brings in other various seed pods with disperse their seeds once inside. I am wondering how long it is going to take for us to lure the squirrels in from the cold.
S brings acorns and rocks with her when we go out, they are tucked into the folds of her car seat. She looses it when she drops them, which is often.
" I dwoped my ACORN!"
" I drowped my black rock!"
(Most things have a color description, for example:
"S, what are you doing?"
"I takin my purple pants off")
The rocks and acorns make their way into my pockets. I find myself crawling under booths at restaurants looking for them. I admit I never planned to crawl around retrieving anyone elses rocks- but I will confess to my own rock collection. I...um.. still have some of the rocks I collected when I was younger. When I would kick a rock along and see how long I could keep track of it while I walked. If I still had the rock when I reached my destination I would put it in my pocket becasue I had... grown attached to it.
So yeah. It looks like we'll have S's box of rocks for a while.
"My wocks!"
"Here they are", I said, showing her the box.
The relief flooded over her face. I guess the rocks will be with us for a while.
S also has a nature collection. She has acorns in her pockets and scattered through out the house. She brings in other various seed pods with disperse their seeds once inside. I am wondering how long it is going to take for us to lure the squirrels in from the cold.
S brings acorns and rocks with her when we go out, they are tucked into the folds of her car seat. She looses it when she drops them, which is often.
" I dwoped my ACORN!"
" I drowped my black rock!"
(Most things have a color description, for example:
"S, what are you doing?"
"I takin my purple pants off")
The rocks and acorns make their way into my pockets. I find myself crawling under booths at restaurants looking for them. I admit I never planned to crawl around retrieving anyone elses rocks- but I will confess to my own rock collection. I...um.. still have some of the rocks I collected when I was younger. When I would kick a rock along and see how long I could keep track of it while I walked. If I still had the rock when I reached my destination I would put it in my pocket becasue I had... grown attached to it.
So yeah. It looks like we'll have S's box of rocks for a while.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
More adventures in forgetfulness
Today I went out to take the girls to get their flu shots- I set out having decided I would not do the H1N1 shot and definitely didn't want any flu mists, but ended up leaving with one girl H1N1 misted and one H1N1 needled- neither one with the flu shot I set out for. The whole thing is nerve wracking.
The doctors office was crazy, lines snaking around all over the place- everyone texting, people negotiating on the phones, babies crying. The girls were great, S who got the last shot there was in the office, didn't cry, or even react, and H, while a bit manic, did really well with all the waiting there was to do. We were all starving, and they were out of the stickers every kid who has ever been to that doctors office has come to expect, so we set off to McDonalds for dinner.
And then my phone rang. It seems my mind has reached an all time low. I left the house with a dog still out in the backyard- I know there are many dogs who spend their lives in a back yard, but mine think they have it rough that they can't sleep on the couch all day anymore. They have to sleep on their beds with blankets. Mayo follows me around all day, I know exactly where he is at all times. Ruby has been sleeping upstairs a lot more now that we're trying to take the couch back. It was one of my neighbors on the phone, who told me that another neighbor had come to her house because Ruby was outside yelping. In the rain, did I mention the rain? I rushed home, promising the girls still McDonalds, just a different McDonalds. I got home and still another neighbor jumped out of their house and wanted to make sure it was just Ruby that was out, and apologizing for not taking her inot his house, but he didn't know how his dog would like that. Anyway- neighbors were thanked, cell phones exchanged, and duplicate keys will be made. Poor Ruby. We brought her a cheeseburger. Meat AND bread- the carb queen just may think the whole ordeal was worth it.
The doctors office was crazy, lines snaking around all over the place- everyone texting, people negotiating on the phones, babies crying. The girls were great, S who got the last shot there was in the office, didn't cry, or even react, and H, while a bit manic, did really well with all the waiting there was to do. We were all starving, and they were out of the stickers every kid who has ever been to that doctors office has come to expect, so we set off to McDonalds for dinner.
And then my phone rang. It seems my mind has reached an all time low. I left the house with a dog still out in the backyard- I know there are many dogs who spend their lives in a back yard, but mine think they have it rough that they can't sleep on the couch all day anymore. They have to sleep on their beds with blankets. Mayo follows me around all day, I know exactly where he is at all times. Ruby has been sleeping upstairs a lot more now that we're trying to take the couch back. It was one of my neighbors on the phone, who told me that another neighbor had come to her house because Ruby was outside yelping. In the rain, did I mention the rain? I rushed home, promising the girls still McDonalds, just a different McDonalds. I got home and still another neighbor jumped out of their house and wanted to make sure it was just Ruby that was out, and apologizing for not taking her inot his house, but he didn't know how his dog would like that. Anyway- neighbors were thanked, cell phones exchanged, and duplicate keys will be made. Poor Ruby. We brought her a cheeseburger. Meat AND bread- the carb queen just may think the whole ordeal was worth it.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
my dumb yellow hair
My hair. As much as I don't care most of the time, every now and then I get obsessed.
I seek solace in the form of hair dye. I was drastic at 18, fire engine red, peroxide blond. Over the years I have gotten less drastic, more sort of natural although I never cared about that. I do the coloring myself not because I am a genius colorist, not at all, but because I can't sit still for the 3 hours it takes to have my hair colored anywhere but home. That and I hate to pay a lot for my hair. BUT this last escapade has me almost surrendered.
Yesterday, after dropping H of at school, at 8 am, not the best time to ponder ones hair color, I went into the drugstore and came out with something called bleach blond the lightest you can go good luck with that or something along those lines. After submitting my hair to the abuse of this product, I saw it starting to turn yellow. Like a gold finch. It is the classic bad dye job, and the worst in all my many years of messing around with hair color.
I panicked, called my sister. I thought about not taking S to her gymnastics class. Then I posted my picture on facebook and said to hell with it. I am going to own this bad dye job.
After parading about town with my yellow head and receiving some compliments and some eye aversions- I became obsessed with getting this yellow, this brassiness, out of my hair. To stop looking like Johnny Rotten.
I consulted my sister, the most professional un professional colorist I know. She told me what to get. I couldn't find it at the drugstore and there are no reasonable beauty supply stores close enough to me- so I went to the fancy expensive salon attached one that is close. I checked their website, they had my coveted product, it was reasonably priced.
When I got there, dragging along S, in the rain, the self important guy who worked there (and who was bald. What does he know from hair?) sold me on their version of what I was looking for. I didn't ask how much it was- but quickly learned it was more than I would have paid had I been in my right mind and not my obsessed mind.
The moral of this story- if I had just gone to get my hair done at a salon, it would have taken less time AND less money. And it would probably look better too.
But it's all about the journey, right?
And now on to more important things.
I seek solace in the form of hair dye. I was drastic at 18, fire engine red, peroxide blond. Over the years I have gotten less drastic, more sort of natural although I never cared about that. I do the coloring myself not because I am a genius colorist, not at all, but because I can't sit still for the 3 hours it takes to have my hair colored anywhere but home. That and I hate to pay a lot for my hair. BUT this last escapade has me almost surrendered.
Yesterday, after dropping H of at school, at 8 am, not the best time to ponder ones hair color, I went into the drugstore and came out with something called bleach blond the lightest you can go good luck with that or something along those lines. After submitting my hair to the abuse of this product, I saw it starting to turn yellow. Like a gold finch. It is the classic bad dye job, and the worst in all my many years of messing around with hair color.
I panicked, called my sister. I thought about not taking S to her gymnastics class. Then I posted my picture on facebook and said to hell with it. I am going to own this bad dye job.
After parading about town with my yellow head and receiving some compliments and some eye aversions- I became obsessed with getting this yellow, this brassiness, out of my hair. To stop looking like Johnny Rotten.
I consulted my sister, the most professional un professional colorist I know. She told me what to get. I couldn't find it at the drugstore and there are no reasonable beauty supply stores close enough to me- so I went to the fancy expensive salon attached one that is close. I checked their website, they had my coveted product, it was reasonably priced.
When I got there, dragging along S, in the rain, the self important guy who worked there (and who was bald. What does he know from hair?) sold me on their version of what I was looking for. I didn't ask how much it was- but quickly learned it was more than I would have paid had I been in my right mind and not my obsessed mind.
The moral of this story- if I had just gone to get my hair done at a salon, it would have taken less time AND less money. And it would probably look better too.
But it's all about the journey, right?
And now on to more important things.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Who ordered all the soup bones?
Last week was such a forgetful week. At the end of the week, all family members, human and animal were accounted for- so I thought I was coming out ahead. I had a cathartic week end that I though would put my forgetting to rest, or at least to pause.
Today started out with a quick trip to the grocery store with out my wallet. Not entirely a forgetting problem, more of a dog problem. I still felt like an idiot at the check out with a cart full of groceries and no wallet.
The dogs are in the habit of going through my bag at the end of the day- when I'm asleep, they have gotten brazen, but they still wouldn't dare attempt this while I'm awake. Anyway, they take everything out, lick the graham cracker crumbs, some times get lucky and find some peanut butter sandwich crusts. They don't rip anything (anymore) , and I don't even mind that much as all the food crumbs get removed from my bag and its one job I don't have to do.
But, now its gone too far. Next they'll be charging things. Holding my wallet ransom for walks.
Today started out with a quick trip to the grocery store with out my wallet. Not entirely a forgetting problem, more of a dog problem. I still felt like an idiot at the check out with a cart full of groceries and no wallet.
The dogs are in the habit of going through my bag at the end of the day- when I'm asleep, they have gotten brazen, but they still wouldn't dare attempt this while I'm awake. Anyway, they take everything out, lick the graham cracker crumbs, some times get lucky and find some peanut butter sandwich crusts. They don't rip anything (anymore) , and I don't even mind that much as all the food crumbs get removed from my bag and its one job I don't have to do.
But, now its gone too far. Next they'll be charging things. Holding my wallet ransom for walks.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Morning
This morning H jumped out of bed and got dressed, brushed her teeth and then came in to get me. It was 5:30, my alarm not scheduled to go off for another 1/2 hour. After which, on any given day, the snooze button would be employed for another 15 minutes, then I would I jump out of bed and run around half doing things and forgetting the rest. J was up insanely early to go to NY- I think he had to be there at 8:30. I suspect this is what got H going so early.
This morning, I shuffled downstairs, poured H some cereal, turned on the tv, and the coffee pot, which is programed to turn itself on, but not for another half hour. I headed up to the shower when S woke up. "Do you want to get up?" I asked "NO!" H wanted to lie down with S (Will she lie down with me for 5 minutes? No.) S didn't want to get out of bed.
"Do you want to lie in H's bed?"
" NO."
" In Mommy-Daddy bed?"
" NO."
" On the couch?"
" NO."
H wanted to get into S's crib. I had visions of it collapsing, so I said no. Got H back downstairs, told S she could stay in bed until I got out of the shower. As soon as I am all wet, H comes into the bathroom and asks, again, if she can get into S's crib with her.
It was too early for such existential dilemmas- if I say yes, I'm not being consistent, if I say no she'll probably do it anyway. I decided to reward her for asking and not just going into S's bed anyway- especially since I was in the shower and powerless to stop her. "Fine", I said. "Go ahead."
When I got out of the shower I heard H reading to S. They were looking at alphabet books, H was pointing out the letters and S repeating them. Everyone was happy. S grinned, 'H weedin to me!' H had her proud half smile. S even got out of bed willingly after that. And the crib didn't collapse.
This morning, I shuffled downstairs, poured H some cereal, turned on the tv, and the coffee pot, which is programed to turn itself on, but not for another half hour. I headed up to the shower when S woke up. "Do you want to get up?" I asked "NO!" H wanted to lie down with S (Will she lie down with me for 5 minutes? No.) S didn't want to get out of bed.
"Do you want to lie in H's bed?"
" NO."
" In Mommy-Daddy bed?"
" NO."
" On the couch?"
" NO."
H wanted to get into S's crib. I had visions of it collapsing, so I said no. Got H back downstairs, told S she could stay in bed until I got out of the shower. As soon as I am all wet, H comes into the bathroom and asks, again, if she can get into S's crib with her.
It was too early for such existential dilemmas- if I say yes, I'm not being consistent, if I say no she'll probably do it anyway. I decided to reward her for asking and not just going into S's bed anyway- especially since I was in the shower and powerless to stop her. "Fine", I said. "Go ahead."
When I got out of the shower I heard H reading to S. They were looking at alphabet books, H was pointing out the letters and S repeating them. Everyone was happy. S grinned, 'H weedin to me!' H had her proud half smile. S even got out of bed willingly after that. And the crib didn't collapse.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
The train has left the station
I nearly cried for the loss of my mind this morning. I should have cried- but I was trying to focus.
I am developing some kind of amnesia. Take this blog for instance. What blog?
My sister texted me moments ago, "um.. you need to update your blog."
I have been thinking of things I want to write, pictures I want to post, as I run around a la chicken with no head. I must recollect my head, and stop scurrying. I will walk calmly from place to place with my head attached. And that will solve everything.
So, about that amnesia.
Yesterday morning, J took H to school so that S, who also had school, wouldn't have to wake up so early to sit in the car for an hour. I unlocked my car so he could get H's car seat out and off they went. About an hour later, I set out to take S to school. I couldn't find my car keys anywhere. I planned to meet a friend for breakfast after dropping S off, her daughter is in the same class. At 8:30, when we the girls should be at school already, I called her to say, no I wasn't canceling, but that I couldn't find my monkey flipping keys and therefore was running a bit late. She, who knows me better than I thought, I guess, told me she was coming to pick S and I up. At breakfast, I remembered I had taken S up to her room as soon and J and H had left. As soon as my friend dropped me off, and made me promise to let her know if I still couldn't find my keys at pick up time, I found the keys in S's room. I had looked everywhere else, including the freezer.
Today, I remembered at 11:15 that I signed S up for a gymnastics class that started today, at 11. We bolted down there, enjoyed the last 20 minutes of class. It was time to head home and I had barely caught the breath it took to get there.
On the way out the door to H's school this morning, S took a bite of a granola bar and choked after yelling at Tamayo to leave her cereal alone (he was no where near it) I thudded her back and did some weird hymlec motion. Now I am determined to sign up for a CPR/kid safety class that I will undoubtedly forget I signed up for.
I am developing some kind of amnesia. Take this blog for instance. What blog?
My sister texted me moments ago, "um.. you need to update your blog."
I have been thinking of things I want to write, pictures I want to post, as I run around a la chicken with no head. I must recollect my head, and stop scurrying. I will walk calmly from place to place with my head attached. And that will solve everything.
So, about that amnesia.
Yesterday morning, J took H to school so that S, who also had school, wouldn't have to wake up so early to sit in the car for an hour. I unlocked my car so he could get H's car seat out and off they went. About an hour later, I set out to take S to school. I couldn't find my car keys anywhere. I planned to meet a friend for breakfast after dropping S off, her daughter is in the same class. At 8:30, when we the girls should be at school already, I called her to say, no I wasn't canceling, but that I couldn't find my monkey flipping keys and therefore was running a bit late. She, who knows me better than I thought, I guess, told me she was coming to pick S and I up. At breakfast, I remembered I had taken S up to her room as soon and J and H had left. As soon as my friend dropped me off, and made me promise to let her know if I still couldn't find my keys at pick up time, I found the keys in S's room. I had looked everywhere else, including the freezer.
Today, I remembered at 11:15 that I signed S up for a gymnastics class that started today, at 11. We bolted down there, enjoyed the last 20 minutes of class. It was time to head home and I had barely caught the breath it took to get there.
On the way out the door to H's school this morning, S took a bite of a granola bar and choked after yelling at Tamayo to leave her cereal alone (he was no where near it) I thudded her back and did some weird hymlec motion. Now I am determined to sign up for a CPR/kid safety class that I will undoubtedly forget I signed up for.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Beauty rest
I have often seen behavior in the girls that makes me wonder about their teenage years- today I saw something in S that I hadn't yet considered.
The girl does not wake up well. Or I should say, is not woken up well. If she is roused from a nap before she's ready, she needs at least half an hour to glare at anyone who dare exist in her vicinity- except for me, I am required to drop everything and play the role of couch. Its in everyones best interest it I do. Everything else needs to wait 30 minutes.
Today I learned what it is like to wake S in the morning before she's ready to get up.
She is usually up at 6:15 on her own, waking me up (and I don't wake up well either) but today, I had to wake her. I tried gently rubbing her back. Nothing. Turned the lights on. Furrow. Sent H in, who is the most morningest person you ever did see. S flipped over and gave H her back. I tried again, S slammed her legs down and yelled 'NO!' I said I'd give her 5 more minutes. I went up and down a few times, and was met with the same leg flailing and "NO" yelling. I tried the stern approach, I tried it all.
Finally I signed and said "You're just like Mommy, aren't you? I don't like to get put of bed in the morning either" She smiled ear to ear and said "yes." She let me pick her up. I told her the story of when I still lived with Yo Yo (what the girls call my mom. It fits, believe me) and I would do the same thing she was doing. Of course I was in high school, not 2 years old. Maybe she just needed to commiserate that it was way too early to be awake. And it was.
In high school, I slept through my alarm, my mother would come in and yell at me- she'd get our 5 dogs to jump on me, she'd sic my sisters on me, drop cats on my head. She even dumped water on me a few times. She eventually started bringing me a cup of coffee in bed. That worked. I really miss that. I most certainly will be paying for the years I made my mom heard me out of bed.
No, I will not be bringing S coffee in bed quite yet. I have a feeling I will be eventually.
The girl does not wake up well. Or I should say, is not woken up well. If she is roused from a nap before she's ready, she needs at least half an hour to glare at anyone who dare exist in her vicinity- except for me, I am required to drop everything and play the role of couch. Its in everyones best interest it I do. Everything else needs to wait 30 minutes.
Today I learned what it is like to wake S in the morning before she's ready to get up.
She is usually up at 6:15 on her own, waking me up (and I don't wake up well either) but today, I had to wake her. I tried gently rubbing her back. Nothing. Turned the lights on. Furrow. Sent H in, who is the most morningest person you ever did see. S flipped over and gave H her back. I tried again, S slammed her legs down and yelled 'NO!' I said I'd give her 5 more minutes. I went up and down a few times, and was met with the same leg flailing and "NO" yelling. I tried the stern approach, I tried it all.
Finally I signed and said "You're just like Mommy, aren't you? I don't like to get put of bed in the morning either" She smiled ear to ear and said "yes." She let me pick her up. I told her the story of when I still lived with Yo Yo (what the girls call my mom. It fits, believe me) and I would do the same thing she was doing. Of course I was in high school, not 2 years old. Maybe she just needed to commiserate that it was way too early to be awake. And it was.
In high school, I slept through my alarm, my mother would come in and yell at me- she'd get our 5 dogs to jump on me, she'd sic my sisters on me, drop cats on my head. She even dumped water on me a few times. She eventually started bringing me a cup of coffee in bed. That worked. I really miss that. I most certainly will be paying for the years I made my mom heard me out of bed.
No, I will not be bringing S coffee in bed quite yet. I have a feeling I will be eventually.
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