You all endured part 1 so it's only fair to give you part 2. Remember that fabulous new hair cut? Well, it's really needing a trim right about now. In fact I have an appointment tomorrow. My last one ever with Tracy who is shifting her business to her friend. So sad for me. A hairdresser that you love is hard to find. But I digress because part 1 started with the hair. Part 2 has nothing to do with the hair.
So, let's see. You all know about the Teen Parent Programs being cut. I don't think that I mentioned that after the phone call telling me that my position was eliminated I sent off an email to my Director that I had a feeling was a bad idea yet I was unable to NOT fire it off either because sometimes you just have to speak your mind to put things to rest and move on. (okay, maybe you don't but I do). That particular email thanked him for being kind enough to make a personal call to break the bad news and that I understood that the decision was financially driven yet I also hoped that they would consider looking at a way of restructuring the program so that one person could service all of the schools with the school staff doing the day-to-day services and the teen parent social worker acting as a consultant to the staff and delivering direct services to the students with more intensive needs. It was one of those emails where you don't feel the anxiety until after you hit send.And then you kind of wished that you had felt the anxiety first to prevent you from sending it.
Fast-forward. I posted about DC-21. The school with a great vision and philosophy and somewhat undesirable schedule. Stefanie and I have emailed back and forth and I've been waiting for the position to be posted. I had a month to waver back and forth and this past week I knew with all certainty that it's where I'm supposed to be. I started to get excited about the possibilities attached to the position. As a formality though I had to go to this degrading speed-dating type event for social workers who are officially on part-time assignments to match up with principals who are looking for part-time social workers. I was on the list so I felt like I had to show up because my bosses were there even if I already felt secure in my potential to work at DC-21. Before the first principal was done laying our her grand expectations of the grunt work that she was expecting her new hire to engage in with only two days a week while she was "very involved with what they are doing so that I can be sure that they are priortizing correctly" I wanted to bolt out of the room. And then, this is the part of the story that gets good, my former Director who is now Director of Special Education and Mental Health services motioned for me to come speak to him in the hallway. And on the spot he offered me a position operating the newly created position that would be providing district-wide services to teen parnts. I've worried for the past three years since being in the teen parent program and working closely with him that I have been a little too outspoken at times. And maybe I have but the bottom line is that he picked ME! Except I was too dumbfounded at the moment to appreciate the offer. In fact, I couldn't see him in any other way than as an ex-boyfriend who had come back to me after I was already in a new relationship. "What? You want us to be together? But I'm in LOVE with DC-21. I just got over you!" The only question I asked was how many days the position was (full-time). And because I honestly didn't know how I felt at that moment I asked him to give me some time to think it over.
I went home and Rob listened to me ALL. NIGHT. LONG. ramble on about the pros and cons of each position. I had gotten myself really excited about DC-21 and was now comparing apples to oranges with both having equal amounts of pros and cons (I was trying very hard to not let the fact that it wasn't year round weigh too heavily). So I did what you do when you aren't sure about something. I slept on it. And I woke up and thought, opportunities like this don't come along every day. And I went to work and I shared the news with my co-workers who congratulated me and then had the audacity to snicker out loud when I said, "Hey! I haven't made my decision yet!" They knew. And suddenly I did too. I fired off a list of questions to the Director---Would I have use of a computer and phone? (not just because of working district-wide but I actually worked this entire year with a phone that had no ringer. These are real valid questions if you are working in education). Can I work traditional high school hours? Will I have opportunities for professional development? He responded within the hour. I accepted the position and submitted the necessary forms and today I received this in my inbox:
This email serves as confirmation that you have been recommended for hire for the following position:
Title: TEACHER ON SPECIAL ASSIGNMENT Mental Health and Assesment Regional Support Specialist
Location: Administration-Central Office
FTE: 1
Human Resources will contact you to begin the hiring process. Thank you.
And I can't think about it too hard or I start to get woozy. I'm back to work full-time. A month ago I would have thought that I was a good two years away from going back full-time. (Expect a blog in August about how I feel like my heart is being ripped out being away from my kids for so long). I'm taking on the biggest professional challenge of my life. I could succeed or I could bomb and the future of teen parenting programs will depend on how well or poorly I do (no pressure or anything, right?) The position is ONLY funded for one year with no promises beyond that. I'm taking the plunge.
So, I've realized that it's not so much about the haircut nor is it about the bucket of clothes that I found. I think that this is what being 40 feels like. And I like it!
Monday, May 2, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Night and Day
One of the things that I find amazing about being the mom of two kids is how uniquely wonderful each child is and in our case I don't think that we could have two that were any more opposite. Cady has always had an intensity and a joy for life that leaves her wondering what is around the next corner. Coben's joy is in the everyday things and he's willing to go wherever the tides take him. If Cady is fire, Coben is water.
For example, Cady came out of the womb screaming. The nurses at the hospital offered no help whatsoever and we didn't even know that there was anything unusual about her screaming for hours at a time instead of sleeping until the nurse commented at check-out, "oh you were the ones in the room with the baby that cried the whole time." Oh? They aren't supposed to do that? The first few months were difficult so in preparation for Coben's arrival we asked Mimi to come stay for a week so that we would have some help this time around. The kid did nothing but sleep the entire time that Mimi was here and the real help ended up being the time that was spent allowing Cady to run and play and not be cooped up with a baby those first few days.
Cady loves to be outdoors and has unlimited energy. Indoor toys have never inspired her and without the ability to run and play she becomes bored rather quickly. She thrives and flourishes on family visits and loves to be around those who love her. Coben on the other hand can push a car around the house for hours going, "vroom vroom" or make tower blocks and crash them over and over. Family visits are okay. Yes, there are extra people around who love him and that he gets a kick out of spending time with but it doesn't absolutely knock his socks off the way it does for Cady.
Cady functions best with rules. She likes to know what the rules are, she likes to make sure everyone knows the rules and she helps enforce the rules for those that aren't following them. When she gets in trouble it is typically for doing things impulsively that fall into the not a good idea spectrum but she has never really tested the limits of time-out and to this day if we count to three she has never allowed us to get to three to see what happens. Rules help her regulate because she is not as systematic as others and it's really lovely because we have been able to tell Cady, "that's just the rules" when she questions something and she is wholly satisfied. Coben on the other hand functions with his own set of rules and all those other ones are just optional. Things have to be a certain way and since I am not a person that is very careful about doing things to completion or in a certain order (Hellooo! Mother of Cady here) he often corrects me. The shopping cart must go back in the corral (I almost always do this but sometimes it's really far and ice cream melting in the hot car is a bigger concern), not wiping off the cart handle because the store is out of clorox wipes can provoke a full-blown melt-down, his pillow has to be turned-over so the picture is facing up. BUT if the rules are the big gnarly PARENT rules it's a whole new ball game. Pushing his sister's buttons (which I must say is NOT hard to do) far outweighs any consequence, time-outs are for escaping and laughing, and I have NO doubt that our parenting skills will be called out in the near future when we count to three, actually hit three, and aren't sure what to do about it.
Another interesting diference is the way that Cady loves to hoard things. Remember the hoarding corner? http://krumpledcady.blogspot.com/2007/07/hoarding-corner.html That has long ago evolved into her entire room being the Hoarding Headquarters. I'm amazed at what she collects. Packets of sugar from a restaurant, the green twisty things from the produce section of the grocery store, the clips that close the bread and keep it from getting stale, rocks, shells, twigs, buttons, stickers, ticket stubs, and anything that can fit in her pocket. In fact, we were at the grocery store earlier using the self check-out and I turn around to see that she has swiped several plastic grocery bags. I put my foot down on that one and had her return them since we have at least 100 of them stuffed under our sink already only to be confronted a short time later in the car by some tree flowers and a white rock that she had smuggled from the parking lot. When I questioned her about it in the car she told me with total and complete conviction that she worries about these random objects being lonely and not having a family to love them and take care of them. If you are a fan of The Middle, this may lead you to a flashback of the episode where Sue can't get rid of her electric curlers because they are a family and will be lonely without each other, right? It certainly did for me! And forget about tossing stuff. I either have to do it when she is not around and even then she has been known to rescue said items from the trash because she has a nack for discovering even seemingly well-buried objects or we have a discussion which doesn't always work. She's got great logic (some would say inargueable) about why we can't throw the one-legged doll away. "Would you do that to a person?" Her bed. Well, I can't even describe her bed except to say that it reminds me of a hamster nest. The covers are always in a ball and the bed is full of friends. And the bed pictured here has been compromised DOWN to this many "friends".
How does this differ from Coben? Coben has a couple of stuffed animals in his bed and those stuffed animals positively annoy him at bedtime. He gets into bed and immediately starts slinging animals out. "No Bonz! No Doh-no! No Long Dog!" His bed has to be clutter-free. He has to have three blankets, no more, no less and they can't be bunched up. His feet have to be covered up in order to sleep well. Order order order.
Finally, the last big difference is shopping. Cady absolutely abhors shopping. If I could plan the worst day ever it would be to spend the day at the mall, followed by grocery shopping and then a trip to Coscto. Even if the shopping trip is dedicated 100% to shopping for clothes for Cady she HATES it. Coben cannot get enough. When I tuck him in on a Thursday night and we talk about the day ahead he gets excited and squeals, "Store? Groceries?" This week, every day off that I had was dedicated to shopping. We had Easter shopping to do, Shopping for Cady's birthday, I had to return a paint set that we bought for Cady, we hit two grocery stores. And after every store, as I would put Coben in his car seat he would hold up one finger and flash a charming smile, "one more store? please mommy?" For Cady, being confined to a cart = torture. . For Coben it's time for him to act silly and get 100% attention from his mom. He plots out our grocery store route. First soup samples, then a free cookie, "paytime" and a grand finale penny horsey ride. And when we are finished (you know, AFTER the cart has gone back to the corral), he is delighted to "help" unload groceries. I'm usually less than delighted by the "help" because grocery shopping almost always takes way longer than I think which runs into well past lunch time and my mission is to hurry and put stuff away so I can fix lunch and get him down for a nap so that he is then awake in time to pick Cady up from school. "Helping" with groceries means carrying a small bag and dramatically groaning "Ughhhhh....hebby hebby hebby!" while items fall out on the way to the door. Me standing AT the door with 6-8 bags of my own which really ARE heavy while blocking the door with my foot so Fibi doesn't run out all the while trying to maintain my "boy are you really helping" facade by chirping, "Great job Coben, keep walking. Okay don't set the bag down there we need to bring it in. Good job, you're almost here. Yes that's a spider web on the window. Yes, spiders made that. Nope, I don't see any spiders right now. Almost there Coben, c'mon!"
Speaking of spiders here's a total side note. We have been infested! It's like one mom and dad spider got busy a LOT and had a bazillion offspring that all look identical and freak the kids out. On a nightly basis Cady calls Rob in to exterminate at least one spider sometimes more. It's like she lays in bed looking for them. She avoid areas of the house if she sees a spider there and we narrowly avoided a head injury the other day when she jumped out of the bath naked and sopping wet and tore down the hallway screaming, "Spider in the bath, spider in the bath!". I hate spiders too and so when Rob is not around I get to be the exterminator. It's rare that I am as humane as Rob with his catch and release method and for some reason nearly all of my attempts to exterminate have resulted in me swatting a spider who disappears in the process and then trying to keep my cool in front of Cady and act completely unafraid while inwardly having a near panic attack wondering if the spider has landed somewhere on me like in my hair or down my shirt while reassuring her in a fake composed voice, "yep, looks like I got him. He's right here on this shower curtain package and I'm just going to go throw him away." So Coben has picked up on Cady's fear and between the two of them anytime they see a spider they are both prone to squealing, "Spider Spider SHRIEEEEK!" or in Coben's case "Pider Pider, SQUEAAAL!" So really they are not all that different!
Those of us that know us well I pose this question. Do you see any similiraties between our children and us? It's eerie isn't it? I'm appalled when I see what new treasures are exhibited in Cady's room and then I reflect on Rob's horror everytime he has to retrieve something from my purse, "I don't even like going in there. What IS all that stuff? No wonder you can never find your keys." I hear myself saying to the kids, "You can't go into the playplace without socks. I don't care what others are doing, those are the rules!" or to Rob, "It says that only kids are allowed on the slides" as Rob throws caution to the wind and comes barrelling down on his stomach. And I remember being incredulous at my own brother's stubborness as a 7 year old and how he was more willing to stand in the bathroom for 5 minutes fully-dressed with the shower running pretending to shower rather than just take a shower. And then there is Rob. The one who puts groceries away (ie, all of the items that I pulled from the pantry to make dinner) before I have had a chance to use them. Rob whose worst hoarding offense is not purging old overused T-shirts. Rob who would never fathom committing a grocery store faux pas like putting the salt that you no longer need in the aisle with the soup because it's closer. Rob who regulates his own actions but will roll his eyes if someone else tries to do it.
I find it rather fascinating that we could create two uniquely differerent kids with equally big personalities. And I find humor in the fact that I am living with two men who will keep me guessing where my clutter has gone because they have organized it away. And in turn they will be living with two women who will be calling upon them to help them find misplaced articles because they are too busy plotting for whatever is around the next corner instead of noticing where they put their sunglasses.
For example, Cady came out of the womb screaming. The nurses at the hospital offered no help whatsoever and we didn't even know that there was anything unusual about her screaming for hours at a time instead of sleeping until the nurse commented at check-out, "oh you were the ones in the room with the baby that cried the whole time." Oh? They aren't supposed to do that? The first few months were difficult so in preparation for Coben's arrival we asked Mimi to come stay for a week so that we would have some help this time around. The kid did nothing but sleep the entire time that Mimi was here and the real help ended up being the time that was spent allowing Cady to run and play and not be cooped up with a baby those first few days.
Cady loves to be outdoors and has unlimited energy. Indoor toys have never inspired her and without the ability to run and play she becomes bored rather quickly. She thrives and flourishes on family visits and loves to be around those who love her. Coben on the other hand can push a car around the house for hours going, "vroom vroom" or make tower blocks and crash them over and over. Family visits are okay. Yes, there are extra people around who love him and that he gets a kick out of spending time with but it doesn't absolutely knock his socks off the way it does for Cady.
Cady functions best with rules. She likes to know what the rules are, she likes to make sure everyone knows the rules and she helps enforce the rules for those that aren't following them. When she gets in trouble it is typically for doing things impulsively that fall into the not a good idea spectrum but she has never really tested the limits of time-out and to this day if we count to three she has never allowed us to get to three to see what happens. Rules help her regulate because she is not as systematic as others and it's really lovely because we have been able to tell Cady, "that's just the rules" when she questions something and she is wholly satisfied. Coben on the other hand functions with his own set of rules and all those other ones are just optional. Things have to be a certain way and since I am not a person that is very careful about doing things to completion or in a certain order (Hellooo! Mother of Cady here) he often corrects me. The shopping cart must go back in the corral (I almost always do this but sometimes it's really far and ice cream melting in the hot car is a bigger concern), not wiping off the cart handle because the store is out of clorox wipes can provoke a full-blown melt-down, his pillow has to be turned-over so the picture is facing up. BUT if the rules are the big gnarly PARENT rules it's a whole new ball game. Pushing his sister's buttons (which I must say is NOT hard to do) far outweighs any consequence, time-outs are for escaping and laughing, and I have NO doubt that our parenting skills will be called out in the near future when we count to three, actually hit three, and aren't sure what to do about it.
Another interesting diference is the way that Cady loves to hoard things. Remember the hoarding corner? http://krumpledcady.blogspot.com/2007/07/hoarding-corner.html That has long ago evolved into her entire room being the Hoarding Headquarters. I'm amazed at what she collects. Packets of sugar from a restaurant, the green twisty things from the produce section of the grocery store, the clips that close the bread and keep it from getting stale, rocks, shells, twigs, buttons, stickers, ticket stubs, and anything that can fit in her pocket. In fact, we were at the grocery store earlier using the self check-out and I turn around to see that she has swiped several plastic grocery bags. I put my foot down on that one and had her return them since we have at least 100 of them stuffed under our sink already only to be confronted a short time later in the car by some tree flowers and a white rock that she had smuggled from the parking lot. When I questioned her about it in the car she told me with total and complete conviction that she worries about these random objects being lonely and not having a family to love them and take care of them. If you are a fan of The Middle, this may lead you to a flashback of the episode where Sue can't get rid of her electric curlers because they are a family and will be lonely without each other, right? It certainly did for me! And forget about tossing stuff. I either have to do it when she is not around and even then she has been known to rescue said items from the trash because she has a nack for discovering even seemingly well-buried objects or we have a discussion which doesn't always work. She's got great logic (some would say inargueable) about why we can't throw the one-legged doll away. "Would you do that to a person?" Her bed. Well, I can't even describe her bed except to say that it reminds me of a hamster nest. The covers are always in a ball and the bed is full of friends. And the bed pictured here has been compromised DOWN to this many "friends".
How does this differ from Coben? Coben has a couple of stuffed animals in his bed and those stuffed animals positively annoy him at bedtime. He gets into bed and immediately starts slinging animals out. "No Bonz! No Doh-no! No Long Dog!" His bed has to be clutter-free. He has to have three blankets, no more, no less and they can't be bunched up. His feet have to be covered up in order to sleep well. Order order order.
Finally, the last big difference is shopping. Cady absolutely abhors shopping. If I could plan the worst day ever it would be to spend the day at the mall, followed by grocery shopping and then a trip to Coscto. Even if the shopping trip is dedicated 100% to shopping for clothes for Cady she HATES it. Coben cannot get enough. When I tuck him in on a Thursday night and we talk about the day ahead he gets excited and squeals, "Store? Groceries?" This week, every day off that I had was dedicated to shopping. We had Easter shopping to do, Shopping for Cady's birthday, I had to return a paint set that we bought for Cady, we hit two grocery stores. And after every store, as I would put Coben in his car seat he would hold up one finger and flash a charming smile, "one more store? please mommy?" For Cady, being confined to a cart = torture. . For Coben it's time for him to act silly and get 100% attention from his mom. He plots out our grocery store route. First soup samples, then a free cookie, "paytime" and a grand finale penny horsey ride. And when we are finished (you know, AFTER the cart has gone back to the corral), he is delighted to "help" unload groceries. I'm usually less than delighted by the "help" because grocery shopping almost always takes way longer than I think which runs into well past lunch time and my mission is to hurry and put stuff away so I can fix lunch and get him down for a nap so that he is then awake in time to pick Cady up from school. "Helping" with groceries means carrying a small bag and dramatically groaning "Ughhhhh....hebby hebby hebby!" while items fall out on the way to the door. Me standing AT the door with 6-8 bags of my own which really ARE heavy while blocking the door with my foot so Fibi doesn't run out all the while trying to maintain my "boy are you really helping" facade by chirping, "Great job Coben, keep walking. Okay don't set the bag down there we need to bring it in. Good job, you're almost here. Yes that's a spider web on the window. Yes, spiders made that. Nope, I don't see any spiders right now. Almost there Coben, c'mon!"
Speaking of spiders here's a total side note. We have been infested! It's like one mom and dad spider got busy a LOT and had a bazillion offspring that all look identical and freak the kids out. On a nightly basis Cady calls Rob in to exterminate at least one spider sometimes more. It's like she lays in bed looking for them. She avoid areas of the house if she sees a spider there and we narrowly avoided a head injury the other day when she jumped out of the bath naked and sopping wet and tore down the hallway screaming, "Spider in the bath, spider in the bath!". I hate spiders too and so when Rob is not around I get to be the exterminator. It's rare that I am as humane as Rob with his catch and release method and for some reason nearly all of my attempts to exterminate have resulted in me swatting a spider who disappears in the process and then trying to keep my cool in front of Cady and act completely unafraid while inwardly having a near panic attack wondering if the spider has landed somewhere on me like in my hair or down my shirt while reassuring her in a fake composed voice, "yep, looks like I got him. He's right here on this shower curtain package and I'm just going to go throw him away." So Coben has picked up on Cady's fear and between the two of them anytime they see a spider they are both prone to squealing, "Spider Spider SHRIEEEEK!" or in Coben's case "Pider Pider, SQUEAAAL!" So really they are not all that different!
Those of us that know us well I pose this question. Do you see any similiraties between our children and us? It's eerie isn't it? I'm appalled when I see what new treasures are exhibited in Cady's room and then I reflect on Rob's horror everytime he has to retrieve something from my purse, "I don't even like going in there. What IS all that stuff? No wonder you can never find your keys." I hear myself saying to the kids, "You can't go into the playplace without socks. I don't care what others are doing, those are the rules!" or to Rob, "It says that only kids are allowed on the slides" as Rob throws caution to the wind and comes barrelling down on his stomach. And I remember being incredulous at my own brother's stubborness as a 7 year old and how he was more willing to stand in the bathroom for 5 minutes fully-dressed with the shower running pretending to shower rather than just take a shower. And then there is Rob. The one who puts groceries away (ie, all of the items that I pulled from the pantry to make dinner) before I have had a chance to use them. Rob whose worst hoarding offense is not purging old overused T-shirts. Rob who would never fathom committing a grocery store faux pas like putting the salt that you no longer need in the aisle with the soup because it's closer. Rob who regulates his own actions but will roll his eyes if someone else tries to do it.
I find it rather fascinating that we could create two uniquely differerent kids with equally big personalities. And I find humor in the fact that I am living with two men who will keep me guessing where my clutter has gone because they have organized it away. And in turn they will be living with two women who will be calling upon them to help them find misplaced articles because they are too busy plotting for whatever is around the next corner instead of noticing where they put their sunglasses.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Killer Lobster
I would like to thank whoever sent the lobster to Cady. I'd like to think that it was Mimi or Chris and Sophie. She received it probably about a year ago and it was one of those toys that you put into water and it grows. A year ago that caused no problem. Today is a whole different story.
Last night Cady found the lobster again in the bottom of her toy bin. The thing is maybe about 3 inches long. She told me about it and then put it in a cup of water and here's the problem. Her dad told her, "It's not that kind of lobster" and "It's not going to grow."
Fast forward to this morning. I'm in the shower and Cady is yelling at me, "Mom, you have to come quick!" Why when I'm showering is her favorite time to do this I'll never know but it certainly wasn't the first time she's said this. So I ask her to please tell me what is important enough that I have to jump out of the shower with shampoo in my hair to see. She starts to get upset (and indignant) but won't tell me. I refuse to get out and she returns just moments later with a cup. Inside the cup is THE LOBSTER. The lobster who has now doubled (maybe tripled?) in size. Cady tells me, "I can't handle this mom. This wasn't supposed to grow. I need it out of the house. I can't live with this thing." I'm chuckling, look inside the cup and tell her, "Oh my god it just moved!" and she screams. Not screams but SCREAMS. Screams and shakes. A high-pitched glass shattering very long scream. And I feel like a rotten mom because I didn't know it was THAT big of a deal at this point since Cady tends to be on the dramatic side in general. So I apologize and she persists that she can't be in the same house with this creature. Coben overhears this and grabs the cup. And just like his daddy does when the girls need spider removal, he takes the lobster outside and dumps it on the ground in front of the door. Since we were running late for school I picked it up and set it on the window ledge outside.
Fast forward again. Now we are rushing off to school. We walk out the door and SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Screaming AND shaking, again. "It moved mom. I KNOW that thing was on the ground. I just know it was. How did that happen. Something is wrong with that thing. That thing is bad. I can't handle this!!"
Thank you for the laugh bearer of the gift but the lobster is now in the TRASH. If we've learned anything from the crazy monkey in Toy Story 3 to the book There's a Nightmare in my Closet, it's that these things can cause us to have to share our bed for months. And since we are dealing with a little guy who now has a big boy bed we just so happen to already a blanket-toting toddler pushing his way in every 2 a.m. The lobster MUST die!
Last night Cady found the lobster again in the bottom of her toy bin. The thing is maybe about 3 inches long. She told me about it and then put it in a cup of water and here's the problem. Her dad told her, "It's not that kind of lobster" and "It's not going to grow."
Fast forward to this morning. I'm in the shower and Cady is yelling at me, "Mom, you have to come quick!" Why when I'm showering is her favorite time to do this I'll never know but it certainly wasn't the first time she's said this. So I ask her to please tell me what is important enough that I have to jump out of the shower with shampoo in my hair to see. She starts to get upset (and indignant) but won't tell me. I refuse to get out and she returns just moments later with a cup. Inside the cup is THE LOBSTER. The lobster who has now doubled (maybe tripled?) in size. Cady tells me, "I can't handle this mom. This wasn't supposed to grow. I need it out of the house. I can't live with this thing." I'm chuckling, look inside the cup and tell her, "Oh my god it just moved!" and she screams. Not screams but SCREAMS. Screams and shakes. A high-pitched glass shattering very long scream. And I feel like a rotten mom because I didn't know it was THAT big of a deal at this point since Cady tends to be on the dramatic side in general. So I apologize and she persists that she can't be in the same house with this creature. Coben overhears this and grabs the cup. And just like his daddy does when the girls need spider removal, he takes the lobster outside and dumps it on the ground in front of the door. Since we were running late for school I picked it up and set it on the window ledge outside.
Fast forward again. Now we are rushing off to school. We walk out the door and SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Screaming AND shaking, again. "It moved mom. I KNOW that thing was on the ground. I just know it was. How did that happen. Something is wrong with that thing. That thing is bad. I can't handle this!!"
Thank you for the laugh bearer of the gift but the lobster is now in the TRASH. If we've learned anything from the crazy monkey in Toy Story 3 to the book There's a Nightmare in my Closet, it's that these things can cause us to have to share our bed for months. And since we are dealing with a little guy who now has a big boy bed we just so happen to already a blanket-toting toddler pushing his way in every 2 a.m. The lobster MUST die!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Big Sisters
Sometimes it can be really tough having a sister. There are days that she yells at me all day long because she thinks that I am a pesty brother that wants to get into all of her stuff. I only get into all of her stuff because she never lets me play with any of it. In fact, she doesn't even let me into her room. We have really bad days sometimes. Those are the days that my mom says we are oil and water.
But then there are good days, When my sister decides to be nice to me I am the happiest kid on the block. I live for those days. When she is nice to me she lets me touch her favorite stuff, she shares treats with me, she chases and tickles me and she hugs me and let's me hold her hand in the back of mom's car.
I do things for my sister that I don't do for anyone else. My sister is the first one who taught me to smile. My mom didn't even know this. I was only a few months old when she was trying to take my picture and Cady said, "he can smile if you ask him to" and my mom gave her a look like, "yeah, sure" and then she told me, "Smile Coben" and I put my finger to my eye and flashed my toothless gums. I have since grown teeth but to this day I still put my finger to my eye. My sister taught me how to do that girly scream that my parents refer to as the "outdoor voice". I love how my sister and I can do that scream together and my mom's whole body tenses up and she gives us THE LOOK. We just laugh because it's our thing. My sister taught me to jump off of the coffee table onto the couch and she sticks up for me ALWAYS when other kids aren't nice to me...even on the days that she thinks I am a pesty brother. And it's because of my sister that the dentist lady said I was the best almost two year old that she has ever worked on. I watched my big sister go first and after seeing how brave she was I knew that I could do it too.
My sister doesn't know yet how important she is to me. She doesn't know that this pesty brother is the only one who can see that she already has those fairy wings that she so badly wants. My sister is glitter, and fairy-wings and everything that is wonderful in the world.
But then there are good days, When my sister decides to be nice to me I am the happiest kid on the block. I live for those days. When she is nice to me she lets me touch her favorite stuff, she shares treats with me, she chases and tickles me and she hugs me and let's me hold her hand in the back of mom's car.
I do things for my sister that I don't do for anyone else. My sister is the first one who taught me to smile. My mom didn't even know this. I was only a few months old when she was trying to take my picture and Cady said, "he can smile if you ask him to" and my mom gave her a look like, "yeah, sure" and then she told me, "Smile Coben" and I put my finger to my eye and flashed my toothless gums. I have since grown teeth but to this day I still put my finger to my eye. My sister taught me how to do that girly scream that my parents refer to as the "outdoor voice". I love how my sister and I can do that scream together and my mom's whole body tenses up and she gives us THE LOOK. We just laugh because it's our thing. My sister taught me to jump off of the coffee table onto the couch and she sticks up for me ALWAYS when other kids aren't nice to me...even on the days that she thinks I am a pesty brother. And it's because of my sister that the dentist lady said I was the best almost two year old that she has ever worked on. I watched my big sister go first and after seeing how brave she was I knew that I could do it too.
My sister doesn't know yet how important she is to me. She doesn't know that this pesty brother is the only one who can see that she already has those fairy wings that she so badly wants. My sister is glitter, and fairy-wings and everything that is wonderful in the world.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Seeing Stars
It escapes me how our parenting logic has gone out the window with child #2. What happened? One would think that the first child is an experiment and the second child is when you have it figured out. Why is that not the case?
Coben has been FIGHTING us on brushing his teeth. Every single night it has been a battle to get him to release the toothbrush from his tiny fists and to open up his mouth. We always win but it involves screaming and tears (Coben), sweat (US) and lots of begging (US again).
Last week Cady walks out of the bathroom and proudly tells us that she brushed Coben's teeth and he opened up and everything. Huh. Okay. I'm not sure why or how but I'm just glad. The next night I witness it for myself. Coben opens his mouth wide and Cady delves in an gives him a good oral scrubbing.
And then....
She produces a gold star. She found the same package of stars that we have had since she was a baby. The very same stars that we bought in order to reward tooth-brushing. The very same stars that went on her tooth-brushing sticker chart. The chart that Coben doesn't have. Huh. Thank you Cady for re-teaching us how to parent. We seem to have forgotten somewhere along the way.
And tooth-brushing I might add has been a breeze ever since.
Coben has been FIGHTING us on brushing his teeth. Every single night it has been a battle to get him to release the toothbrush from his tiny fists and to open up his mouth. We always win but it involves screaming and tears (Coben), sweat (US) and lots of begging (US again).
Last week Cady walks out of the bathroom and proudly tells us that she brushed Coben's teeth and he opened up and everything. Huh. Okay. I'm not sure why or how but I'm just glad. The next night I witness it for myself. Coben opens his mouth wide and Cady delves in an gives him a good oral scrubbing.
And then....
She produces a gold star. She found the same package of stars that we have had since she was a baby. The very same stars that we bought in order to reward tooth-brushing. The very same stars that went on her tooth-brushing sticker chart. The chart that Coben doesn't have. Huh. Thank you Cady for re-teaching us how to parent. We seem to have forgotten somewhere along the way.
And tooth-brushing I might add has been a breeze ever since.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Coben...sweet sweet Coben
Coben is approaching two. I don't need a calendar to tell me that. It's evident when our sweet sweet boy is in time-out 5 times per hour for most of the day. No kidding. He's a hitter. He loves it. You can see the pure joy on his face as he winds up his arm and WHAP! hits his sister two, three, four, "COBEN!! Stop hitting your sister!!! Please go sit in your naughty chair." And a smile spreads across his face as he trucks down the hall and plants himself in his "naughty chair" beanbag in the corner of his room. His posture is SO good when he sits there. He doesn't fidget or play. He just sits erectly and waits until he gets a dismissal. And within minutes he walks up to the dog and "WHAP WHAP WHAP!" and he's back in the naughty chair.
He wants to test it all out. The grocery store. "What happens if I hit my mom in the face. I'm sitting here in the cart and she is right in front of me and WHAP! Hmmm. She didn't respond. I think she is trying to ignore me. I'll mock her the next time. WHAP! Now I'm going to open my mouth and make a gasping sound like she does when she is shocked at what I've done. Oh, oh, oh, I think I'm getting to her. One more time, this should do it. WHAP! YES YES YES!! A time-out! That's what I was aiming for. And next to the tortilla display this time. Yippeeeee!"
And he's very obvious. He waits until I'm in the room and then he starts whacking Cady and watches me at the same time. I try not to give him the reaction that he is looking for but it's back to the naughty chair.
I guess Cady went through this. I don't really remember because I think I was more horrified just at the thought of her hitting. I was afflicted by first time mom-itis! "Why is she hitting? OMG, we don't hit. Where would she learn that? She doesn't go to daycare. But kids don't just hit do they?" HA! Anyhow, Rob the Historian assured me that Cady did this. And she also had several days of 20+ time-outs and that this too is just another phase that will pass. In the meantime, if you plan on visiting, wear protective gear.
He wants to test it all out. The grocery store. "What happens if I hit my mom in the face. I'm sitting here in the cart and she is right in front of me and WHAP! Hmmm. She didn't respond. I think she is trying to ignore me. I'll mock her the next time. WHAP! Now I'm going to open my mouth and make a gasping sound like she does when she is shocked at what I've done. Oh, oh, oh, I think I'm getting to her. One more time, this should do it. WHAP! YES YES YES!! A time-out! That's what I was aiming for. And next to the tortilla display this time. Yippeeeee!"
And he's very obvious. He waits until I'm in the room and then he starts whacking Cady and watches me at the same time. I try not to give him the reaction that he is looking for but it's back to the naughty chair.
I guess Cady went through this. I don't really remember because I think I was more horrified just at the thought of her hitting. I was afflicted by first time mom-itis! "Why is she hitting? OMG, we don't hit. Where would she learn that? She doesn't go to daycare. But kids don't just hit do they?" HA! Anyhow, Rob the Historian assured me that Cady did this. And she also had several days of 20+ time-outs and that this too is just another phase that will pass. In the meantime, if you plan on visiting, wear protective gear.
Religion
It started with this.
Cady: "Mom, is Santa going to die one day?"
Me: "Nope, he lives forever"
Cady: "What about God Obama?"
And last night as we passed the courthouse on the way to the zoo it was this.
Cady: "Is that the jail or God?"
and from that it evolved into this.
Cady: "Is Jesus still a baby?
Me: "No, he was a baby a long long time ago and then he grew up"
Cady: "Does he have his kids?"
Me: "Rob, did he? No, wait, never mind, of course he didn't"
Religion. I have my own beliefs and they do involve God. But I just don't buy into any one religion being the "right" religion. I believe, like I do with most things in life, that there is a grain of truth in everything. But clearly it is time to insert some spiritual teaching.
Cady: "Mom, is Santa going to die one day?"
Me: "Nope, he lives forever"
Cady: "What about God Obama?"
And last night as we passed the courthouse on the way to the zoo it was this.
Cady: "Is that the jail or God?"
and from that it evolved into this.
Cady: "Is Jesus still a baby?
Me: "No, he was a baby a long long time ago and then he grew up"
Cady: "Does he have his kids?"
Me: "Rob, did he? No, wait, never mind, of course he didn't"
Religion. I have my own beliefs and they do involve God. But I just don't buy into any one religion being the "right" religion. I believe, like I do with most things in life, that there is a grain of truth in everything. But clearly it is time to insert some spiritual teaching.
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