City Trippin'

Yesterday I took A. for our trip to see Santa at Union Square. Last year we drove, this year we took BART (kind of like a cross between Amtrack and a subway for those not familiar with it.)

Of course A. had a grand time on the train for the first time. She was a little bored because I neglected to bring anything for her to do, but she talked to the other passengers and looked out of the window trying to sound out all the station identification signs. At one point, A. started pointing out that almost all of the passengers were by themselves. "They aren't married, because they are alone," she announced. So we talked about how maybe people were married but their spouse wasn't with them. "You aren't married," She said and I agreed, but told her I had been married to her daddy. "I wish my daddy could see me when I am a big kid" and I agreed that I wish that too. We had a little moment of sadness and a hug before she moved on to killing my camera battery by taking a bunch of pictures of my shoes and the floor.

We got to the City at about 11 so we decided to walk up to Union Square and have lunch right away. On the way I needed to pick up batteries so we stopped at Walgreens where A. found a stuffed animal that she "HAD" to have. I told her that I wasn't going to lug anything right now, and maybe we could stop on the way back. (Of course, not really meaning it. Because she already has an army of stuffed animals and has procured 2 more already this week.)

We had a grand time having lunch at the Cheesecake Factory overlooking the square. A. was impressed by the really large tree and one of the buildings has a huge rotating star on top that was "amazing". She was suspicious about why I was letting her eat "All. This. SUGAR!?!?" But that didn't stop her from digging in. (She miraculously managed to eat without getting it all over her white shirt.) After lunch we went to have pictures with Santa and pick out her annual Christmas tree ornament. (Hi I am Alicia and I have an ornament buying problem. I have no doubt purchased 5-8 ornaments this year already.) Then she led me on a galloping tour of the Squares open spaces.

I laughed so hard it I had tears when she showed her true colors as her mother's daughter. She was galloping along the square when suddenly she stopped in the middle of the block and announced that we REALLY had to cross the street. I didn't really see anything that would attract a 4 year old on the other side, but I was feeling indulgent. I have found trips like this are much less stressful if I just follow her lead (except when it is critical or safety related). So I took her to the crosswalk, and we crossed. She made her way back down the block to where we had been opposite, and marched right into a store. The Nine West store. Where she promptly marched up to a display, plunked a shimmery gold platform heel off of the display. (It was quite a beautiful shoe.) Then she announced that we needed to buy it. I explained that it wasn't for little kids and she gave me a look that said clearly I was a dolt as she explained, "It isn't for ME, it's for YOU." Trying to explain to a four year old that my life doesn't have much in it that requires high heels while the sales person looked on was kind of annoying and funny all at once. I finally told her that she could look at all the shoes I have in the closet that I don't wear and pick something for me to wear out of there.

After the shoe store, A. announced she was tired and ready to go home. We swung by the Disney store where she begged for a Cinderella Doll and I bought her princess pens instead. She was happy to draw pictures on the ride back. But when we got off the train she was indignant. Why were we going home when she was having SUCH a good time on the train? Then she settled down and ran off to play with the neighbor as soon as we got home.

Of course, as soon as she lied down for bed last night, she popped back up and demanded to know WHY we didn't go back and get that puppy from Walgreens. She cried and railed against me for a bit about how "wrong" I was and insisted that I go get it "tomorrow morning, first thing" which was met with a denial. When I pointed out that she already got 2 new stuffed animals this week, new princess pens and an ornament, and that perhaps she should better use her energy feeling grateful for what she does have because there are many kids who don't have a lot of things that she does, she sobbed "But I LOVED it" one last time and quieted down for bed. After a few minutes she said "Thank you for the pens and a lot of fun." So maybe I am not raising a total brat after all, in spite of the rather blatant spoiling that occurs some times.

Holiday Traditions

My family didn't have a lot of traditions when I was growing up. We had a few, on your birthday you always got one quarter for every year old you were. The birthday person always got to pick dinner too, and my mom would make it (or attempt to make it). I was pretty uncomplicated. I think every year I asked for either Tuna Noodle Casserole or Potatoes Au Gratin with Ham. My brother Alex asked for all kinds of (seemingly) random things like Bouillabaisse. I think Brian asked for spaghetti about 4 years in a row. In the summer we always had "pajama rides" when all the kids would get into their jammies and my dad would drive us out to another town, buy us ice cream and drive around until we fell asleep in the back seat.

For Christmas, we would have a Christmas Eve tradition. On Christmas Eve everyone got to open 3 presents, a book, a pair of pajamas and one present picked from under the tree. (Santa hadn't been there yet and the parents hadn't put out presents, so you had to go with gifts from the extended family.) That is the only thing we did that I would really call a "tradition" but I think in some ways the way that families conduct holidays are sort of a fingerprint of the family. The components are usually there, but everyone does them a little different. Does Santa wrap or deliver out into the open? Does everyone take turns or is it a wrapping paper frenzy with everyone digging in at once? Are presents separated under the tree into piles for each person or is it all jumbled together?

I remember my parents disagreeing about how to handle these things when I was a kid. My mom's family was unwrapped santa presents followed by a free for all. (I can imagine that with 11 kids in the family, unwrapping one at time would take approximately FOREVER.) My dad thought that we should pass the presents around and watch each other open the presents, and also we should wait until after breakfast. (TORTURE!) In the end the came to a sort of compromise, Santa presents were unwrapped and we were allowed to play with them and our stocking offerings as soon as we woke up, but everything else had to wait until after a fairly healthy breakfast. (Which was always at least partially ruined by candy canes, lifesavers and hershey's kisses from the stockings.)

When I got to be a late teen, I added day of baking and a trip to the city for shopping. I had to give them up when A was born, but I that this year she may be old enough for them. When my niece was about A's age, we added a day decorating gingerbread houses with Grandma and a trip for all the women in the family to the Nutcracker. In some ways, I am beginning to think that if I add any more traditions to this holiday, it is going to be more stressful than fun.

C's family added some of their own traditions to the mix. Their family has always done all the Christmas gift opening on Christmas Eve. This is a bit of a double edge sword. There is never a decision to be made about where to spend Christmas. It is just a fact that Christmas Eve is with C's parents, and Christmas Day is with mine. But the addition of a fair influx of presents makes the book and jammies that I give my girl a little less special than it was to me. (And I have completely cut out the picking a presents, because HELLO she already gets a ton.) We also don't do stocking hanging or Santa hot chocolate and cookie leaving, because we stay at the grandparent's house until bed time and she falls asleep en route to the next house.

At some point some of the traditions or the fingerprint of our holidays may change. (I am sure that at some time it would be nice to be in our OWN house for Christmas.) But for now this week holds some days to bake, next weekend is the Nutcracker, and somewhere in the future is a trip on Bart to see Union Square. (Maybe I will take A. ice skating, or maybe not yet.)

I can only hope that this year A. doesn't do what I did the year I was four. I believe that was the year that my brothers and I woke up at 4 AM and discovered that Santa had given me a record player. We Mousersized and Disco Ducked our way through to 6:30 am much to the chagrin of our parents who steadfastly refused to get out of bed, no matter how loud we played the record player and despite the fact that I believe at least one of us kids decided to wake them up by play the "cymbals" (pot lids) in their room. I honestly don't know how we didn't die that Christmas morning.

Ornaments

I was all gung ho to come in here today and post about my voyeuristic tendencies at grocery stores. I was going to speculate on what my grocery cart says about me, and what yours might say about you, but then I got a book out of the library and, lo and behold, the intro of the book is exactly that. It made me feel unoriginal and frankly like posting my observations would kind of make me a hack and a plagiarizer, so you (The roughly 4 people who actually read this, which includes my dad. Hi, Dad!) are going to have to get something else instead.

Today Audrey and I started getting into the thick of unpacking Christmas decorations. The weekend after Thanksgiving, I bought some new lights and a blow up thing for outside and put them up, but we hadn't touched the Christmas boxes that are stored so lovingly in my shed. (By lovingly, I mean they are tossed in there sort of haphazardly and covered in spiderwebs.) So we took them out today in preparation for obtaining a tree tomorrow, or possibly so that I could just say "Please be careful with that" until my head explodes, whatever comes first.

Pulling out the ornaments always reminds me of where I got them. I try to collect an ornament when I travel or go on vacation these days. I used to collect coffee mugs, but that led to me lugging home 15 mugs from Europe when I went to visit a friend who was living there. I think I finally ditched the last of those last year, a mere 15 years later. Because leaving them around was a talking point that I didn't want, "Oh yes, I got that when I went to Kassel with my friend who was living in Germany.....Was it a grand time? Well, I pretty much spent the entirety of my trip being dragged to her friend's houses for tea because they were "GREAT" cooks. They didn't speak much English and I didn't speak much German, and they kept trying to cook "American" food for me. I was there 15 days and lost 32 pounds and didn't really have a single conversation the entire time." (I do love you Jillian, even if I will never vacation with you again.) Ahem. I think there was a topic around here somewhere.....

So here I was pulling out ornaments and remembering, or trying to remember, where I got them when I decided that it would be a good idea to write this stuff down. Especially since some of it has already gotten a little cloudy. My mom's Christmas tree has a lot of ornaments that everyone agrees she has had for a long time, but the origin is in question. Did I make that fake Ice Cream Sundae or did my brother? Was it 1st or 2nd grade. Since my mom's ornaments are mired in a bog of cloudy memory, I decided to write down anything important about my Christmas decorations.

Of course, deciding to start this after I have had a few glasses of wine mean that I am currently (because I am kind of drifting between this blog entry and decoration logging) writing down entries that consist of statements like "Ornaments XYZ, purchased in a spending binge at Pottery Barn after Christmas sale sometime between 2007 and 2010. Not really that important, but very pretty." And, "Inherited from Carl, I don't know when or where he got it, but it is kind of ugly, so I don't usually put it on the tree." I am debating on telling the truth on some of them. Because for every IMPORTANT ornament purchased at a family reunion or on a honeymoon, there is one that I would have to fess up to buying so that my 4 year old would just shut the heck up and let me finish my Target shopping in peace. And that doesn't seem like a very sentimental remembrance that someone is going to want to read in the future. Although, sometimes I think that grandparents could use a reminder that, as much as they might wish things to the contrary, their kids weren't angels who always behaved and showed respect when it was due. I think those items I will wait until tomorrow when the wine has passed my system to make a final judgement call on.

So tell me, what kind of decorations for the season do you have? Do you decorate like my late husband, a tree full of cheap ball ornaments? Do you have a menorah that has been a family heirloom? Do you know where your Christmas tree ornaments came from? Good memories or bad, let me know.

I fear no evil, only discussing death with a preschooler

Fish #3 looks pretty close to biting the dust. Following the illness of #2 so closely that I am pretty sure that something is going wrong in my tank and either I need to figure it out and fix it or numbers 4 and 5 will probably follow shortly. Because of this I am psyching myself up to have yet another discussion about death with A.

I am sure that most people don't love talking to their kids about death. It is a hard subject for most adults to really get their head around, let alone a 4 year old. But I dread discussing death with A. the way that Lindsey Lohan probably dreads sobriety. But much like Ms. Lohan's attempts at getting sober, I do it because discussing it is healthier than the other options.

Most 4 year olds can rehash a subject approximately eleventy bajillon times before it becomes old news. The more fascinating or frightening a subject the longer it can randomly reappear from out of the blue. For A. death is one of these topics. Her father's death has put it on her radar and she can't help but notice the permanence of the absences caused by death. This means that for about a month after we talk about death, the subject can reappear out of no where. Since I refuse to lie to her, she knows that everyone dies. (Although, mostly they do it when they are older and it is no reason to worry overmuch about it now.) My honesty on this matter leads to some of THE most difficult discussions as a mother. Trying to calm her fears about her own mortality or the mortality of the people she loves, and attempting to explain to other parents why my daughter is discussing death with their kids.

The first is an ongoing discussion that always leaves me feeling a little battered and bruised. It is hard to see your child upset and not have a pat answer that takes away the fear and uncertainty. It is hard to know that in at least a small way, I chose this anxiety for her when I became pregnant knowing my husband had cancer. On an intellectual level you can know that fear of death is a pretty common anxiety for kids (and adults) not caused by a parent's decisions, but it is hard to remember as your small child tells you she doesn't want to grow up but wants to stay a small kid forever, because she doesn't want to die.

The second hard discussion is a little less emotionally wrenching, but is a mild embarrassment. Kind of like the kid who tells everyone that Santa doesn't exist, my child has deemed herself the spreader of THE TRUTH. She is the one who shares with the preschool class that one day THEY will die and their parents too. In fact, she has been known to add, your mom or dad could die any time now, mine did. She will announce in the middle of grocery store to a total stranger that her dad DIED. And it is hard to know how to deal with that. In some ways, it is just a fact of our life. Nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. On the other hand, it is more than most acquaintances need to know, and the look of pity that seems to flit across the face of someone who just found out is hard. Our immediate family might be small, but we live life large together and it is unworthy of pity.

I suppose I could limit this discussion as much as possible by buying more fish and seeing if she notices the switch out. But the subject comes up. This week she picked Bambi out from the library to watch, and I am stuck trying to decide if I want to forward through the mommy deer's death. Mostly I am just hoping that she won't actually remember to ask to watch it before it needs to be returned. In fact, Disney movies are pretty horrible for this sort of thing. Bambi, The Lion King, Finding Nemo, all leave me with a decision to edit the film and take the easy way out, or put myself through the ringer over and over again. I have drawn the line at the picture book version of "The Little Princess" because I think that the idea of an orphan is just too much to deal with right now. But the rest of it is just feeling my way in the dark. Sometimes the movies are necessary, she can identify with the characters that have lost a parent. Sometimes, it is just too much. I walk a fine line trying to give some normalcy to her situation and protect her since she is only a little girl still. Whatever I do, I am sure there are therapy bills in the future for her....I mean, What parent hasn't left their kid with a bunch of baggage?

10 mins? Somedays it seems like 10 hours.

When A. was just a wee little tot, I took her to visit her cousin up in our state's capital and spotted a highway billboard that read, "Read to your child, 10 mins a day!" I was flabbergasted, 10 minutes, that's it?

I was thinking about this billboard yesterday as I prepared for our new Monday routine. We have discovered the lovely family pajama time story hour at the library which means we can do our weekly trip to the library, stay for story time and stop to get ice cream as a treat on the way home (SO cold this time of year, but A. is not discouraged). I can't imagine what it would be like to only read 10 mins a day. Most days we have at least half an hour of bedtime stories with other reading mixed in during the day. There is always a negotiation regarding the number of books to read at bed time. My opening bid is 2 books, A. starts by requesting 10. We usually end somewhere in the 4 book range. On Mondays, we end up reading for 1/2 an hour before we go to the library. (We have to get one last read of the books before they go back.) Then a book or two read in the stacks as we search for our goodies, an hour long story time and then 2 books back in bed. (Where it is already past bedtime, so I am admonishing her to pick SHORT books but my love of reading rarely allows me to say No to reading altogether.)

I am glad my daughter has learned to love books. It is telling that I can offer up the threat of losing the right to check books out from the library as a behavior modification technique. In many ways I can't wait until she is old enough to enjoy some of the books I remember so fondly from my childhood. Can anything beat the wonder of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? But I have to remember not to rush this stage, because while it takes a lot of my time, she won't be content to snuggle in my lap as I read to her for too much longer.

10 mins a day seems like so little, and is such a big thing that today I am taking A. to the bookstore to pick out a few of her favorite books to donate to the local battered women and children's shelter. Won't you do the same?

We are the 99%

I have to say that the Occupy Wall Street fascinates me. In some ways, I wish I was able to join in and attend some events. Although I would probably go to San Francisco even though Oakland is closer because I think that rallies/protests in Oakland have a tendency to become destabilized and unsafe. But that is a whole other blog topic.

I get why people are pissed. I am if I think about it too long. I absolutely believe that politicians have sold themselves to the highest bidder. Banks and large corporations largely control our political and media systems and they have little regard for the average person. However, I have a hard time with some of the steps people think will help fix the problem.

Having worked in banks and dealt with regulators who come to audit, I am not sure that large amounts of controls and regulation is what the banking industry needs. Especially since the banks pay outside audit firms to tell them how to deal with it so that they can make their round peg of operations fit into the square whole of regulations. And the outside audit firms ALWAYS have employees that are smarter and better at their jobs than the government inspectors. I once had to explain to a state inspector that if you took the amount of the monthly payments and multiplied it by the term of the loan it was more than the original amount lent because we charge this little thing called interest on loans. I also had one state inspector who would spend the first 2 hours of his day transforming computer paper to lined paper with a pen and a ruler. Even when we offered to provide lined paper, he declined. These are the people watching the till. And are a pretty good representation of the people I met over the 4 years I dealt with Government inspectors. Whether through a lack of training, a lack of caring or just a plain lack the people who are hired to watch our financial systems are less capable than the people who run it and they have very little power to enforce the regulations that they do have already. Until that changes, no amount of new laws are going to keep our country safe from another banking failure.

So I am doing one of the few things I can think that really might make a difference. I am taking my money and trying to go to small, local stores. Christmas shopping for me this year is going to be completed mostly at gift shops of institutions I wish to support. The local zoo, kid's science museums and the fine art museums and some local independent stores. I have already bought the vast majority of my meat on the the hoof directly from ranchers for a couple of years now, and I try to buy produce through my CSA or farmer's market. These things make me feel pretty good about supporting local business and institutions, but there is a trade off. It is more expensive and takes a lot of time to track things down. Not everyone can afford to fight the corporate power that way. And there are some things that it just isn't feasible to find at a local store. Local, independent grocery stores are extremely difficult to locate. Try to buy toilet paper or clothes from a small store. It isn't easy.

Conferring on School Progress and Personality

This week I had a parent teacher conference at A's Preschool. I know, I scoffed at the idea a bit too. But I went and discussed a bunch of things that I already knew about my daughter, and some I didn't.

A is very smart. This is not a surprise. She leads her class in alphabet and phonics work. I am also not surprised, I think she is just naturally wired to love the alphabet. She has known all the letters and most of their sounds for well over a year. She is starting to read 3 letter words and wants to learn more. She cares less about numbers, but she still does pretty well. She counts up to 30 and can identify numbers up to 20. I feel proud she gets it, and then I wonder why because it really isn't something that I have done or instilled in her, I am convinced it is just how she is.

Here is where it gets murkier. Some of the traits her teacher mentioned I think are less desirable in a class, but being me and her mother, I have a hard time not reading them as fairly positive. A likes to add her observations and comments into every discussion, sometimes when it is not the appropriate time. (She is an active participant! And feels passionately about her learning! I see a school career of being the kid with her hand in the air waving it frantically trying to be called on. Ah, I remember those days.) She can be EXTREMELY loud and insistent when reporting slights against her or her friends. (She stands up for her rights! And the rights of others around her!) She is among the most active of the kids in the class....always moving and quickly. She runs with the biggest, most active boys in the class and has no time for children who are dainty, timid or slow moving. The boys she plays with have a habit of playing rough and having a hard time following the rules. Some kids have suffered from the occasionally bruise from them . But not when A. plays with them. Apparently the boys fall in line when playing with her because she simply won't tolerate it. (She is a leader, and a good influence! Maybe her active level will help her avoid the weight struggle that plagued her parents!)

It is funny, because she is shaping up to be a little bit of a mini-me. Maybe that shouldn't surprise me, but it does a bit. I wonder what it means for her teen years. I always wished that I fit in with the other girls more as a teen. I liked girly things, but wasn't interested enough to expend a lot of energy on them and my mom wasn't much for makeup and fashion, so I didn't have a role model for that sort of thing. I always, and sometimes still do, feel more comfortable with boys/men as friends. As a twenty-something, I felt much better about it. One of the highest compliments that anyone ever paid me was to tell me that I was the most authentically me person he ever met. I didn't try to fit into a stereotype of womanhood and managed to be feminine, self sufficient, and one of the guys at the same time. I can only hope for the same for my daughter, even if it means that the years that most everyone else spends rigidly conforming to gender roles are a little harder for her.

Fall on this!

Every November I think about doing something for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, for those who don't know). So this year I thought I would try to blog every day. This is my first blog and it is already the 6th, so clearly I am doing a just bang up job here. Hopefully I will manage to get more writing in before the end of the month. Possibly I will even try to throw in some things that I am Thankful for, since it is that time of year again too.

Today is the first day of the time change. Did we just start Daylight savings time or end it? I never can remember. Whatever the label attached to this, I hate it. Before A. I pretty much adored the fall time change.....Who doesn't love gaining an hour? Either an hour to catch up on sleep or to use as you see fit. The spring change stunk a little, but really wasn't a huge deal. Children change that.

I think that parents hate the time change because it just capriciously screws up bed time. And bedtime for the under 5 is a bit like a car in an action adventure movie.....balanced precariously on the cliff's edge just ready to tip over and burst into flames killing everyone inside. Or maybe that is just at my house.

Also, when the kids are small, you never gain an extra hour of sleep. What you gain is an hour of a tired, whiny small person begging you to entertain them. Super fun! Especially when you add in an attempt to make the small person change their eating times by an hour. So now the tired, whiny, bored kid has low blood sugar too.

Which is why, for parents everywhere I say the time change can kiss my grits.

Mommy time

I did some calculations today. I figure, by my calculations, that before I had a kid I had roughly 48 hours in a week to do what I wanted. Probably 4 hours every week day after work and 14 hours each for Saturday and Sunday. Granted, I did choose to spend some of that time cleaning and cooking, but not much and I was mostly the only person who suffered if it didn't happen.

Lately I have been feeling pretty guilty that I am sending A. to preschool/daycare 3 days a week for 7 hours and not really accomplishing much in that time. Yeah, I go to the gym, but that is about all I can routinely expect to accomplish. I feel drained and resentful when laundry or housekeeping needs to eat up my precious me time. I so desperately WANT to be bored.

I feel guilty because I know that other mother's generally don't get that option. (At least not until their kids are in school.) And I am kind of squandering my time alone a time that could be productive without a midget "helper". At the same time, I am doing exactly what I want for less than HALF the amount of time I used to. Shouldn't I be allowed to be lazy without guilt?

In some ways I knew this would happen when I got to be a mom, but I guess I always thought I would get SOME downtime from motherhood. I just didn't do the math to figure out that if I was either a Single SAHM or Working Mom that I would be reduce myself from 48 hours to MAYBE 2 a week. And that I would feel horrible for hiring someone to even get myself back to 1/2 of what I had before. So maybe I am going to go ahead and enjoy this for a little bit before I have to go back to work.

It must be a phase

Lately A. has changed her ways. And not necessarily for the better.

Up until now, she has always been really fearless and bold. She is the type of kid who will talk to people at the store, announce what she did in school to the table next to us at a restaurant and generally just be jovial and outgoing. Until 3 weeks ago.

Now we are suddenly having "shyness" issues. When I drop her off at preschool she will hide outside the room and won't enter it. She won't get in the pool at swim lessons (which have always been one of her favorite things). She wouldn't sing at her school's musical night because she "didn't want everyone looking at me." She just wants to cling to me. Of course, when it matters not a wit, she is still very outgoing. But every time we are on a time line, there is someone special who wants to see her, or I am paying for her to spend time with someone doing something that used to be fun, it is a no go. Plus, every time I give in and tell her she doesn't have to do XYZ and we leave, it is followed by a 45 min melt down with her crying about how she wanted to do it after all and begging to go back. But the next opportunity leads to the same clingy mess we had before.

This clinging has also extended to bed time. Now, it is taking her 45 mins to an hour longer to fall asleep and there are WAY more tears and drama surrounding every task that leads up to bed.

Frankly, I am exhausted. I think that it must be developmental because these behaviors started showing up about the same time that her imagination just went WILD and she is suddenly able to play by herself a bit more spinning stories when it is just the two of us. However, knowing that doesn't help a whole lot when bed time stretches into it's second hour and we are on round three of tears and drama over something like tooth brushing because I have had to hold her down and force the issue after 30 mins of fighting about it.

I can only hope that this is a very short lived phase, because at week 3 it has already extended beyond her mother's patience. I ask only for some kind words and maybe a bottle of tequila, we are becoming very dependent on margaritas around here.

I am a flaky person.

I didn't used to be. Many many moons ago, I had my sh*t together. When I said I would do something, I did it. I had the best memory of any of my friends. I could remember whole conversations weeks after they occurred and didn't need to write down things. (I did, because I have an absurd love of lists, but I didn't need to.) I was a force of nature at work.

Then C. got sick. Some little things started to slip in the face of remembering medication dosage, doctor appoints, lawyer appointments and helping him juggle his work schedule to get everything that was currently scheduled completed.

In the midst of that, I got pregnant. Somehow the hormones made me lose my mind a little bit. For the first time in my life, I forgot to do things that are pretty critical, like EAT. I lived on Ensure drinks because I simply didn't have time between work, illness management and my pregnancy appointments to deal with food. Other mothers started talking to me about "pregnancy brain" and how common forgetting where you left your keys were. I didn't worry too much. Hell, I had WAY too much other stuff to worry about my damn keys.

Then C. died. And I found that not only did I lose my keys, but I would find them in the most bizarro places. Like in the freezer. If I didn't write down a date, I would fail to show up at a restaurant where I was supposed to be meeting a friend. I met other widows/widowers online that described the same problem. They called it "widow brain". So there I was at the mercy of my hormones from pregnancy and my grief.

I figured it would get better when A. was born. But I was wrong. I still had problems remembering things if I wasn't reminded in someway, a note, a reminder phone call from the person who was expecting me, etc. I managed to do all my grocery shopping before realizing I didn't have my wallet with me. I lost my wallet 5 times in a year. I forgot that I was making my nieces birthday cake until the night before the party. I had officially gone over to the dark side of flakiness.

4 years later, I feel like I am getting a little better. But, I am still finding it hard. These days, I sometimes remember things that I was supposed to have done. Then I am so embarrassed that they weren't done that I don't want to bring it to anyone's attention that I haven't already done it. For example, I was supposed to have chaired a committee for the local moms club. And I was excited about it, in DECEMBER. I asked the co-president for the list of people affected, and she told me she would get it to me after the holidays. The holidays came and went and she didn't contact me, and I didn't follow up and here we are 6 months later and I feel like an fall down on the job idiot. I have also gotten really good at postponing, almost indefinitely, any task that I REALLY don't want to do. Because running a household by yourself and dealing with a small child takes time and energy, I justify taking the little time I have to myself to do things for me. But it leaves other things....um, not done. Ever.

I am working on correcting this, but it is a hard road back to responsible adult with a decent memory. So if you need something from me, I will be over here drowning in my post-it reminders and trying to get my shit together.

A little Princess

I am conflicted. This morning I had to venture to the Target toy section to buy a gift for a little girl's birthday party. I had fully intended to buy another Tangled Barbie doll. I bought one 2 weeks ago before the party was postponed for weather. (Somehow someone in this house has appropriated it as their own at 5:30 AM when her mother's resistance was low. I believe the phase "You could have the Taj Mahal as long as you let me have my first cup of coffee in peace," was uttered.) I was conflicted about buying it the first time, but I was in a hurry and it was on an end cap and on sale.

But this morning, A was being pretty low key and we had some time so I ended up browsing. I hate the fact that toy stores are so gender segregated. All the pink, Pink, PINK! stuff is in 3 aisles. All the boys stuff is in another 3 aisles. There are a couple that are mixed, infant things and sports are not separated that way, but you still find 2 versions of everything. One in primary colors and one in pink and purple. It's like girls can't enjoy blue and red and therefore need their own floaties, doctor's kits and baseball bats. I am conflicted when it comes to picking out things for other kids, I don't necessarily love to buy Barbie and princess stuff, but I have. Particularly if I know that the little girl is REALLY into it and the parents don't mind. Today my resistance was feeling higher than usual (or I was more stubborn and unwilling to bend to marketing and gender rolls) and we changed up the present to a butterfly growing kit and a pack of dive sticks for the b-day girl's pool.

As conflicted as I am about buying things for other kids, I am doubly so for my own. On one hand, I don't love the princess culture and the need to teach girls to be cream puffs who wait for their "prince". On the other hand, girls have been playing dress up and tea parties for ages. Plus A is not really into it. She occasionally asks for something princess-y but she is remarkably well rounded. Shrek and Toy Story are much more favored than any of the princess movies. She would rather play hide and seek, swing, or drawl than play dress up. (Unless there is an admired child who wants to play dress up with her.) Blue is her favorite color.....and not the girly light blue with sparkles, she wants the dark navy blue. But it concerns me that she asks for princess things, not because she loves them, but because the other girls in her preschool are into them.

Up until now, I have avoided Barbies and things of that ilk. And even now that she has one, she isn't that interested in it. But one of these days I know that I am going to have to make a decision about how much I want to let these sorts of things seep into our house. For now, I have a butterfly garden to wrap and a bounce house to deliver my child to.

Beware the SNOWPOCLYPSE!

Apparently it might snow around here sometime this weekend. The radio, TV and facebook are all aflutter at the revelation. Much like the San Francisco area gets at the mere hint of real weather.

Clearly, we live in a climate that doesn't see much but 2 seasons. Spring/Fall and Summer. I call it Spring/Fall because it is essentially the same. Rain (but not too much), intermixed with some colder days (40F, brrr cold) and some days when the sun breaks through and warms us to almost 80F. Spring/Fall starts in Oct-Nov and goes until April-May. Then there is the sunny, warm period with no rain.

Whenever real weather threatens to come to town, the airwaves go crazy with speculation about how we will survive. Lightning in the forecast? We better watch "Storm Tracker 2011" to see if we all might burn to the ground. A few frozen flakes falling from the sky that have not a chance in hell of sticking to anything and the SNOWPOCLYPSE is upon us. Of course this is all about global warming too. Which ramps up the discussion about how we are all going to DIE.

I find myself in danger of straining myself from rolling my eyes so hard. It is amazing to me that in an area with so many transplants (many from places with true weather) can freak out so badly about a small meteorological blip. Now, if we were planning on seeing something that would stick, I could see where this would be a major deal. Logistically we are ill prepared as a region to deal with snow. No one would have a snow shovel, and you would have to drive 3 hours to get somewhere you could pick one up. But the thought of a handful of snow falling (most likely in the dead of night) and melting before I can even get my jacket on fills me neither with amazement or dread.

But, I will keep all you far-flung folk appraised of our situation. For now the death toll is zero, but we expect that to skyrocket any moment.

Parenting: UR Doin it WRONG

Parenting may be the hardest gig ever. Everyone has an opinion on how your kids should be raised. Just ask them, they will tell you. Sometimes you don't even need to ask. And there will never be a time when all the opinions are in agreement. Of course, you never get any objective feedback. Your kids can't tell you if you are doing a great job. (With the exception of occasionally doing something that makes you realize you are getting through, like saying "please" and "thank you".) You basically have to wait until they are around 25-30 for the final verdict to be in. Even longer if you are waiting to see what kind of parent you turned them into.

I am not cut out for this sort of duty. I like to be good at things. Really good. How am I supposed to know if I am good at this. It is definitely NOT. COOL. to compare your kid to other people's kids. So there is no way to know if you are doing a decent job. Besides, a certain level of stuff is just innate. My kid learned her letters early, she liked them and asked what they were. It certainly had very little to do with my parenting, because I never worked with her on flashcards or pushed her to learn these things. In fact, much like her current obsession with asking how everything is spelled, it was a little time consuming and annoying to answer all the questions. (You spell TABLE fourteen times in 15 mins and see how excited you are about children's neurodevelopment.) So I can't decide if this is a win for me, or just for biology. (Her father learned to site read words at 3 too.)

And then there are the things that you are definitely behind on. My kid has very infrequently slept all the way through the night. She usually wakes up at least once a night. Not for long anymore. Just long enough to join me in my bed if she is in her bed, or to speak a couple sentences at my semi-comatose body if she is already in my bed. I am lucky if this is skipped once a week. But even that has a price, because she certainly wakes earlier on the days when she doesn't follow her normal routine.

Sharing a bed is something that I struggle with making a decision on ALL. THE. TIME. It is a struggle to get her into her own bed at the beginning of the night. She would much rather just stay in my bed all night long. And on a daily basis, I am pretty ambivalent about it. She goes to sleep without me being next to her, so what does it matter which bed she is sleeping in when she does? The proponents of co-sleeping say that no kid has ever left for college still sleeping in their parents bed. However, I do know a 13 year old who is still uncomfortable sleeping in a room alone. And I don't want that for A. Plus, there would be the bonus of being able to leave her somewhere else overnight if I could feel relatively comfortable with the notion that she wouldn't cause dramatics in the middle of the night when she realized she was alone in her bed.

So along with thousands of other parents I am trying to feel my way through the dark to the best way to raise a kid. And sometimes failing. So if you figure out the perfect way to to it, drop me a line. Or don't, because chances are I will find you to be an insufferable know-it-all and end up being defensive about taking the easy way out on occasion. And now I have to go join my kid in my bed for a night of being kicked black and blue because she is always restless when she is sick and it is the time when I am most likely to bend the rules.

In the Kingdom of the Mouse

Yesterday we set out on our trip to the Kingdom of the Mouse with my In-laws.

It took less than an hour for me to realize that I had forgotten something. 3 hours into the trip the list was growing exponentially and the replacement costs for necessary items was threatening to make this trip MUCH more expensive than I had originally intended. (Leaving Disneyland tickets at home = an expensive kind of bad)

By hour 6 we had achieved nap failure and hit enough traffic to ensure bedtime would not be maintained. Things were not looking good for us around here.

When this morning dawned, bleak and sprinkle filled, I was hoping for some redemption. Instead I got a kid begging for Disney 4 hours before the park opens. Luckily, the day turned around a bit from there. Some TV shows kept us going until we could savor our 1st breakfast. (Necessity, since Character breakfasts don't start until 9:40 and can you imagine trying not to feed your kid who wakes at 6AM until then?) Then came the hour of running up and down the hotel corridors, threatening the life and limb of other weary looking parents pushing much more compliant children in strollers. But sunshine was achieved in spirit if not in reality when we got to meet the princesses at our second breakfast.

A throughly enjoyed the few rides we went on, and mostly enjoyed running as fast as she could around the park, particularly when her second cousin showed up to chase with her. Despite the serious over-tired nature of a kid who didn't get enough sleep the day before, she (sort of) behaved, needing only a handful of half-hearted threats of dire consequences from her mother.

However, I do think that Disney could benefit from some parental input. When you cater to the under 10 crowd, opening at 10AM is ridiculous. In fact, it would be SO much better if they opened at 8AM and closed down the little kids rides between 1 and 3. Parents would breathe a sigh of relief that nap time (or quiet time, or down time, or whatever you want to call your version of an afternoon calm) could be achieved without being the MEANEST. PARENT. IN. THE. WORLD. Just, "Sorry Johnny, Mickey takes a nap at this time. So maybe we should go back to the room and watch a video."

Although, I have to say that Disney has mastered the art of exiting a ride DIRECTLY into a souvenir shop. For maximum begging and serious parent fleecing.

All in all, Disneyland is much more fun with a kid than I remember it being the last time I was here. (Um, 16 years ago.) Watching A light up at the "Magic" of it and have a great time is wonderful. But, I can't say I will be sad if she turns 10 and decides (like her mother) that Six Flags parks have more, better rides with shorter lines.

Dearest Darling Daughter,

Why do you hate mommy so?

I know that you say you love me and give me kisses, but your actions speak mightly. And they say you just simply don't like me. Or at least, you don't want me to be a happy person.

For example, failing to achieve napping yesterday was expected. Your cousins were visiting and are far more interesting than lying prone in bed. I even expected that this lack of napping would make the afternoon difficult. However, skipping nap and then NOT going to sleep early was not really something that crossed my mind. Lack of nap, normal bedtime and rising 1 hour early just seems a bit cruel, don't you think?

Also, we need to talk about this rising bit. Up until this week I thought we had a really workable morning routine. It was working for Mommy, and even if you didn't always like it, it was working for you in the sense that it keeps Mommy sane and starting the day in a happy place. It was a pretty good deal, we wake up, you get TV and Mommy gets coffee and internet. After 30-40 mins Mommy is happy and can pleasantly deal with your requests. Telling me that you don't want to watch TV, that you want to play Hide and Seek/Do artwork/Play board games/All of the above in the span of 10 mins, prior to Mommy having even 1 cup of coffee is grounds for Mommy's head to explode.

Additionally, I realize that you are 3 and that everything is important to you. But the way that you are asking for things is going to cause Mommy's head to explode. Speaking! All! In! EXCLAMATIONS! Is! Driving! Me! CRAZY! Really is it too much to tone it down a bit? Not everything is life or death, and if mom doesn't respond to something RIGHT away it doesn't mean you should repeat your request at ever increasing volume and excitement level. Ditto goes for when Mommy's answer doesn't met your expectations. Asking me 47,000 times won't likely turn the No into a Yes.

Thank you for considering these things in the future.....in the meantime, if you don't nap this afternoon I will be forced to donate you to Grandma or the Goodwill (whoever arrives to pick you up first.) Don't worry though, if Goodwill gets here first it will take them some time to process you before putting you out on the sales floor and I am sure I will purchase you back after I have a nap and a glass of wine.

Love,

Your Very Frustrated Mother.

I have no resolve

I generally don't do New Year's resolutions. Every year I let New Year pass as just another day. Somehow the calendar ending one cycle and starting another doesn't really do much for me. I don't like to go out because people get crazy. I don't like to make resolutions because, well maybe because everyone else does it and it bothers me to do anything lemming like.

My birthday is a different matter. I love my birthday. I guess I am weird in that way. I like getting older. I feel more at home with myself every year. Happier about who I am. That feeling has only increased with C's death. I am happy that my body is strong and healthy. I am strong and capable. I love having a day that is about celebrating me. And I use my birthday as an opportunity to take stock in my life.

Before A. came on board I always did the same things on my birthday. Update the resume, make my personal and professional goals for the next 1, 5, and 10 years, and make myself exactly what I want to eat. Add some great dark chocolate and a luxurious bottle of wine and I had my perfect birthday setup. It's a little harder to do this with A around. Also, updating your resume when you haven't done anything professionally in 3 years is a little lame.

But the goals are the same. Kind of like New Years resolutions only rephrased. This year I have decided to take my "no resolutions" resolution a little farther. Every year I make something things my goal. They tend to be repetitive. Get better at exercising, skin care, and cleaning. Learn new things. Etc. Mostly I don't meet those kind of goals. Then I feel like crap.

I start something, and it feels good. Then I get side tracked and the guilt spiral begins. Once I have "screwed up" my plan, I feel stymied in my efforts and give up. So this year I have decided that there will be no guilt. Instead of making goals out of things that I wish I did better, I am going to give myself the year to experiment. I am not going to say "I am going to go to Pilates class twice a week" I am going to go with "I am allowed to explore what exercise options are right for me." I am giving myself permission to decide that what I am doing isn't working out and try something else.

So I am going to experiment this year. Doing what seems right, and letting go of the things that don't work for me with no guilt or excuses. There are clearly some things that are more important to me than others. Exercise is the big one. But when it comes to school, work and house care.....I am going to work this year on letting myself do what feels right rather than what I think I SHOULD do.

Heck, that should be an experiment in itself. I have never really been good at bucking what other people want from me.