Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Out of the Vortex

As far as I can tell, I coming out of the baby vortex... that's the black hole that all my energy, heart and brains goes into early on in each pregnancy and then continues to go until approximately when the baby starts taking one nap a day (thirteen months old).

I am back!

I guess.

Really, Hen is not doing the one nap bit yet... but I seem to be getting ideas again, so I am calling it good.


If I seem conflicted, it's because I am. I cannot quite figure it out. I clean forgot how to subtract two digit sums in a column last Saturday, yet I got a screamin' good idea for a book. Seriously. I had an actual vision of a painting two weeks ago, a thing that has not happened for me since I got pregnant with my first baby, yet I am as distracted as ever and cannot seem to finish a sentence using the correct words when I am speaking. The house is only the slightest bit more clean and organized, but I am super-amped about teaching a Color Theory For Kids class this summer. Having fun researching and putting together the lesson plans. Tonight I am headed off to the fourth and final class of the "play piano fast" class that came free with the purchase of a digital piano last year (the girl's are taking piano lesson). I will be playing "How Great Thou Art" in the class recital, top and bottom hands... I am crazy pleased with myself.

Plus I appear to have the extra energy to start freaking out about whether I should homeschool this fall, or just supplement the public schools with some extra stuff at home. Which, yeah, you might think hey! No
brainer, chicky! Supplement City, why make life hard on yourself? But every time I volunteer over at Lilac or Birdie's class's I am struck by how much of what is going on is simple herd management. How useful is that? I guess I wouldn't mind the timesuck and the "hurry up and wait" crap, except that it's my understanding that this school really falls apart for advanced kids in the third grade.

As much as I don't want to be "that mom." I fear it less than being the mom who just wasn't paying attention while everything fell to crap for her kid, and this year has been very disheartening for me as far as Birdie goes. Don't get me wrong, things are mostly Ok, and when I talk to moms of special needs kids I feel like a real schmuck for getting in a twist, but her teacher just doesn't get her, has no clue where this little girl is coming from.

Sure, at Parent-Teacher night the conversation seemed to go well at first, with all the things a mama would hope to hear.... top reader in the class, one of the top spellers, great in math, pays attention, participates in class, etc. it was the odd pauses before she continues with a puzzled look on her face that Birdie also really enjoys to write, but how she doesn't write things at all like any of the other kids. How her writing sounds so different, but it is actually pretty good. How she seems to be doing well socially. Like this surprises her. Like she couldn't understand how Birdie could manage to have friends.

Y'all, I got this distinct impression that she thinks my kid is a freak. That she could not understand how this freaky kid has friends. That the things she writes is weird. I guess I am saying that this teacher doesn't much like my kiddo.


I guess I should just suck it up, except that this option of homeschooling is there and it is surprisingly within my grasp. The kids would have more time to learn fun stuff because they would have one on one time with a teacher who loves them, and less time would go down the dumper from sheer numbers management.

Dadguy is right. I need to just let this go for now. What if Birdie and Lilac get amazing teachers next year? Supplementing would be optimal in that case.

I just feel like I have been too passive this year as far as Birdie's teacher goes. I kept telling myself that it's going to get better. But maybe it really will get better. Plus there are way worse things that a teacher who does not think the sun rises and sets over my kid. Right? I personally have spent a goodly amount of time with people that don't know what the heck to make of me, and I am undamaged by it. Bleah.

Hey, did I tell you that the girls have given my scissors a name? No joke. Whenever they need large, sharp scissors instead of their blunted safety scissors they ask to use "Straighty Katie." No clue where that comes from, but it slays me every time.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Quick Note

To Chaos:

I have been asking this of you for several months now, and I will continue to remind, cajole, beg and plead for your assistance in thwarting our budding water sports enthusiast by closing the bathroom door. Just shutting the lid on the toilette not only is no impediment to his nasty splashery, but he is trying to perfect his toilet-brush javelin throw. Shut. That. Door.

Along the same vein, Henry has developed a strong interest in Xtreme Freestyle Stairwell Descent, and that "spring loaded self closing gate" that we have at the top of the stairs? Not so self closing. Help a muthuh out?

Also, I understand that y'all may experience technical difficulties occasionally when "taking care of business" in the bathroom. Happens to the best of us, but let me re-re-reiterate: if you should, by any misfortune, find yourself with bodily functions upon you fingers? The protocol is as follows: Wipe fingers on toilet paper conveniently stationed near the john, then wash hands with soap and water, dry on towel hanging on wall. If you review the previous protocol I am sure you will find that nowhere in there is any mention of the shower curtain. No. Where. Nada. Zip. Not there. So quit it.

And speaking of wiping, let us not forget the many boxes of tissue that I have stationed round the house. Yes, they have been place up a little higher than usual to keep them out of Henry's "she love me she loves me not" plucking range, but they are nonetheless still in your line of sight. For the love of Pete. Use them. The hallway walls, both upstairs and down are lousy tissues and your slug trails are lousy decor.

As you were.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

I Am The Mama, Not A Maid

At the start of this week I observed to Dadguy that I couldn't understand why I don't take the time to clean the basement more often, since the basement stays clean and organized for a longer amount of time than the upstairs; emphasis on the kitchen and the dishes. Sort of a "more bang for your buck" housekeeping realization. Then I put away the Christmas tree and all the holiday decorations that we still had up downstairs. I cleaned, straightened and I vacuumed down there, and today I realized something else:

I lie to myself a lot.

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

Wall-E Shoes

Today Lilac was going through a large cardboard box of "boy" toys that our neighbor's tweener son had outgrown and given to Henry; mostly matchbox cars and plastic dinosaurs. She pulls out a small, yellow bulldozer type toy and inspects the tracks (tank tread) and mutters to herself, "Wall-E feet? Shoes?"

She then tuns to me, triumphantly holding aloft the dozer and declares, "This truck has Wall-E shoes!"

Tuesday, January 05, 2010

Funny Dudes

Haw Haw Haw!
(she sidles into the room laughing just a shade too jovially)

I was totally going to post something really great. I was! Only there was Christmas, and you know how that goes; the parties, the family, the overeating and the over stimulation! Who writes during Christmas really?

Plus, on Christmas Eve I was making the traditional Chaos Family and Friends Party Soup, (out of TURKEY ya wiseguy) when I zipped a goodly portion of the top of my right thumb off. Just barely getting round to typing again. Right hander thumb's mah spacebar finger, y'all. I was invalid. Gimpy. Hadda use one of those goofy finger condoms just to take a shower.

And, um.... Oh yeah! I got what I wanted for Christmas! The first five books in Jim Butcher's Codex Alera! And four Odd Thomas's (Koontz). And the full, whompin' Pride'n Prejudice Colin Firth whoopty of a disc set. So yeah... I have one book left in the Codex to go, and I have fallen to sleep trying to watch the P&P several times. Plus I have been indulging heavily in season two of Bones.


I got sick again. What else was I s'posed to do? Sick at least twice, though really, it's hard to say exactly. Mighta been two viruses and a bonus sinus infection, or I may be taking a completely gratuitous round of Sulfa antibiotics right now, because the second virus hopped aboard the bandwagon on day six or seven of the first headcold-type thingy, and I went from "improving" to "feeling hellish yet again."

I am still recovering from THAT crap, and the only reason I am still taking the antibiotics, other than a genuine fear of the Antibiotic Police coming to get me, is the fact that the color of my snot went from "day-glo" to significantly less virulent colors within the first thirty six hours. So yeah... sick and.... oh yeah... Mama? Because I keep forgetting to ask, what kind of Calcium tablets are the supergood kinds? I am a stone-cold believer in that cycle/sicko thing you were telling me about. The only month I haven't come down with a barnyard full of feel-like-dirt is the one where I was on the Calcium ya gave me. HALP!

...and lessee...

The KIDS! Yep, they were home all day every day, and friends, and cousins and crime-uh-NIT-ly that's a boatload of kiddos making messes, fighting, crying, laughing manically and thundering up and down the stairs.

And if you needed yet another pathetic excuse for my not having sat down and blogged even just a wee bit, Henry popped a handful of teeth while Birdie had to get one yanked.

She wants me to tell y'all the tale of how it went at the dentists, but I am afraid I haven't the stomach past the basics. Dude. They tried to do a Pulpotomy first (a babytooth root canal) but it wasn't savable. So when the guy yanked... shudder... she has several pieces to hand over to the TF, after she shows 'em off at school. Suffice it say, the kid was brave. We go back to take care of tooth numero-two-o the day before her birthday in Feb. I have already had nightmares involving early morning calls from the dentist saying they can fit her in at six in the morning.

The crying shame of it all, is that the post I had written waaaay back in the day got some great responses, and I guess that Elizasmom wrote some kind of typically thoughtful post linking to what I had said, plus the post that I had linked to myself...I have not responded to anyone or read EM's post and whattheheck? Is? Wrong? With? Me?

That's right, I remember....please see all the above excuse making, plus oh yeah! I suck.

Oh, but before I forget to record it... Henry has been doing his first forays into solo walking. He's clocked in at four consecutive unassisted steps, so long as you don't count over enthusiastic cheerleading, spastic clapping and "cometomama-ing" from some screamy and sort of annoying woman as assistance.

Plus somebody better record for posterity the fact that Pearl calls her panties "funny dudes" every time they come down unexpectedly when she's changing out of her pants or
they don't pull up properly when she yanks her pants up after finishing on the potty. This is actually something that happens fairly regularly when one is four years old and still trying to get the hang of business. She always calls them "funny dudes" and laughs, chortles really, and then asks you if you think they are "funny dudes" too.

Y'all, I think they are very funny dudes.