Several weeks ago, I took Cameryn to Target where we picked up a few items and I let her browse through the toy section watching her eyes light up at everything princess.  She always goes through every box of princess barbies searching for Jasmine from Aladdin.  That girl is hard to find.  So, there we were looking at toys for her cousin when I saw her shoved behind some legos.  I quickly snatched her up and put her into our cart, hiding her from Cameryn, while silently singing "Hallelujah!" because the one thing that Cameryn wanted for Christmas is now in my possession. 

Cameryn asked Santa for a princess castle and a Jasmine Barbie.  The princess castle crisis was adverted a few weeks ago when my mom bailed on the gift because she wanted something more "educational."   The problem with the castle?  You cannot find it anywhere in the stores, so it must be ordered online.  I stalked the castle on Amazon for a few days, trying to figure out what to do and if one of the other grandparents wanted to get the castle for Cameryn (with four sets of grandparents, gift giving can be a little crazy)  and finally I ordered it because this castle was going like hotcakes (there were 20 one day, 10 the next day at lunch, and 8 twenty minutes later when I was talking to Chris on the phone.)  This was the BIG thing that Cameryn wanted for Christmas and one way or another, she was getting it. 
Christmas crisis adverted.  Whew!

Jasmine barbie?  Check. 
Princess castle?  Check.
Happy Kid on Christmas?  Definitely.

Fast forward to Sunday afternoon.  We had to drop by the old roommates house because they are spending the next two weeks out of town with their family and they forgot the lizard and asked if we would watch it.  Not exactly my idea of a pet, but whatever.  They mentioned that Cameryn's gift was laying by the front door, could we wrap it and give it to her for them?  Chris brings it home and I immediately said, "Are you kidding me?!"  They gave her the Disney Princess Ultimate Doll Collection - the pack of 7 princess barbies.  It's an incredibly generous gift for Cameryn and she is going to love it.

But.  Jasmine is included.  So what do I do?  Do I take mine back or do I let her keep both of them? 

It's ridiculous really.  I'm fretting over a Jasmine barbie.  Chris and I only give Cameryn three presents (and one Santa gift, so 4 total gifts from us), so I hate to give her one that she is already going to receive. 

Seriously.
This is my big problem right now.
Silly, huh?

The weekend consisted of lots of rest, lots of tissues, and lots of meds.  I'm sick and being that I'm also pregnant being sick means that Tylenol is about the only relief that is allowed.  I did go to the doctor and get "real" meds but those don't seem to help much either.  Eh. I am totally over being sick.  My energy level is low and my head hurts from coughing so much. Luckily, Chris was home yesterday and took Cameryn out of the house for a few hours so I could get some rest.  He also went grocery shopping and didn't come home with anything random except double stuff oreos.  I'm not complaining.  I like the double stuff.

***

One of my besties went on a cruise yesterday and she sent me a text saying, "I'm having a pina colada right now just for you."  I received this mid-coughing fit and it wasn't even noon yet.  Yeah, I'm totally jealous.  While she and her husband are sailing through the ocean, I'm stuck here, wiping my own nose and my kids ass.   Oh, to be young and childless...

***

I know the gender of our baby.  There, I said it.  We "announced" the gender on our Christmas cards this year so everyone can find out at the same time.  So, family, stop hounding us about it!  We're not telling you!  The cards are in the mail and you'll find out soon enough.

Meanwhile, the name game is still on and we have not made any progress.  Did anyone else have a difficult time naming their child?

***

I'm not done Christmas shopping yet.  I don't have a lot to get, but I have a few little things to grab and the thought of going out in the madness makes my toes curl.

***

My cousin is getting married at the end of the month, which means that I have to go to a wedding and of course, I have nothing to wear.  I'm at that strange stage of pregnancy where people wonder whether you've been indulging in the Christmas goodies a little too often or if you're actually pregnant.  I'm sure that I'll figure something out, but I know that all of my dresses will be a little snug.  And OMG!  I just realized that Cameryn will have to have something to wear too.  Crap.

On that note, I better start shopping online.

 

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No, I didn't put those silly antlers on my car.

No, I didn't indulge in matching family  pajamas.


{via}

 I certainly wasn't caught wearing white shoes.


I did, however, take my dog to see Santa.


You can now classify me as a crazy dog person.

I really, really dislike giving gifts to teachers.  Not because they don't deserve them, but because I don't ever know what to give them.  And, this year Cameryn has two teachers.  So now I have to think of one gift that works for two teachers.  I don't spend enough time around these women to know if they prefer coffee or tea.  Red or Pink.  South Carolina or The Other Team Which Shall Not Be Named. 

I was, years ago, a preschool teacher (inside of a gymnastics facility where I also taught competitive gymastics).   I've received my share of things that make you go hmmm.  Chipped coffee mugs. Year old hot cocoa packets.  Hard as rock jellybeans in faded santa boxes.  Christmas ornaments with my name misspelled.  A snowman tea pot.  I also received some kick ass gifts from the parents that I knew well because I coached their daughters.  Fun t-shirts, mani/pedi's, car washes.  And, a few that were pretty timely... while a case of red bull and a liter of vodka might have suited my 24 year old self, it certainly doesn't now!  Plus, I don't think that Cameryn's teacher's would appreciate the gesture.

My ideas so far?  An intial tervis tumbler filled with goodies (too bad a dictionary or a thesaurus won't fit inside one of them!).  Movie tickets.  Cookies.  Gift card to somewhere.(Last resort.  Really.) 

I've also thought about making this... It doesn't look that difficult and it's something that they could hang inside the classroom, right?





Have you tackled the teachers gift this year?  Any ideas you want to share?

Hey you - go here and click on 'Like' to vote for Macie for Cheerleader of the Year!  It's that easy.  Winning this contest would also help her win school scholarships for the future. 

Macie is 7.  She has an amazing work ethic and will stop at nothing until she masters a skill. 
Here is her video that she submitted for the contest.  See that full?  Did I mention that she's 7?

Thank you!

Have you seen this video making the rounds?  What a heartbreaking reality this is for many kids these days.  I hate it.  The shit talking that kids engage in now, for no apparent reason other than to just do it, is ridiculous.  Jonah states that his bullying started in the first grade.  The freaking first grade.  Where do first graders even learn this behavior?  Children should be taught kindness and tolerance, and our job, as parents and role models, is to teach them. 

I also wonder how his parents feel watching the video.  Did they know that he contemplated suicide?  And, if so, did they do or not do anything?  Do they realize what an incredible kid they have?  Which brings me to another thought - how do we protect our kids without overprotecting them?  When do we step in and stand up for our kids and when do we sit silently and scream obscenities in our head? 

I see glimpses of trash talking (already!) in the life of my own child.  I will ask about her day and she will tell me that she didn't play with two of her friends today and when I ask why it's because one friend said that,  "She told me she wasn't my best friend and I should go away.  She was mean."  My heart breaks for my kid, her friends are a whole three and a half years old.  I know the girl's parents, it's not like she comes from a "bad" home, where did she learn this?  So, I do the only thing I can, I ask Cameryn how it made her feel and when she says, 'Sad', I ask who she played with instead.  When she tells me her other little friend at school, I say, 'Oh, she's a nice girl, did you have fun?'  We don't dwell on the bad things.  I encourage her to play with all of her friends, even though some of them are apparently total buttheads one day and they are back to being BFF's the next.  She's three.  The social order shouldn't be established yet, but apparently, it's in the workings.  My kid is strong, smart, beautiful.  We don't use the words stupid, fat, or ugly.  We talk about exercise and foods that are good for your body.  I don't talk about my stuggles with my own self image around her.  I struggled with my identity growing up, never really fitting in anywhere, with any particular group.  My goal is to present a stronger front for my child than what was presented to me in order for her to grow up feeling like a strong, powerful, young woman. 

Do any of you watch Parenthood on NBC?  One of the boys on the show has Aspergers and is being made fun of at school without realizing it.  The mom does and she steps in and confronts the boy who is doing the bullying.  While the boy on Parenthood probably cannot stand up for himself due to his condition, some kids can, and some need to learn when to fight their own fights and when to turn to an adult for help.  Watching this play out on tv, I thought to myself, 'She is SO out of line!  She should not have confronted that boy, he's not hurting her son physically, therefore, she needs to butt out and go confront the parent!  Go to the school administration, something!' Whereas a friend of mine thought, 'Yes!  Do it! Stand up for your kid!' 

Do you remember being bullied as a child? Was it even classified as bullying or were we told to suck it up and deal with it when our so-called friends were acting like fools? I think it was probably the latter, but I also feel as if what we call bullying today has been taken to another level.  What a fine line we must walk as parents.  We're an overprotective bunch, like lions guarding their cubs from hyenas.  We don't let our kids get out of our sight in fear out of what might happen.  The world that we live in has changed, so much, since we were young.    Yet, at the same time, we must let go.  We must let them learn on their own how to navigate this strange world and the people in it.  But sometimes, I really, really don't want to.

My friends and I always joke about what will happen when our kids find out that Santa isn't real.  Because, at some point in time, your kids are going to ask about the jolly guy and his reindeer.  What do you say?  How do you let them down easy?  We joke that our kids are going to be a pissed off bunch and probably won't like us for a little while, which may result in a few quiet moments around the house that we, as parents, may really enjoy.  Kidding... Maybe.

I don't remember when I found out that Santa wasn't real, nor do I remember how I felt. I do know that my brother kept the secret from me for a little while, so that was nice.  Do you remember when your parents/siblings dropped the bomb on you?

I came across this post yesterday and I thought that I would share it because I think it's probably one of the best explanations ever.

***
from Maybe Probably Means Not

A few months back, the Tooth Fairy got busted. She left a note for Alice up on her computer, and Lucy figured the whole business out. The Tooth Fairy cursed her need to write notes in elaborate fonts and tried to come up with a cover story, but it didn’t fool Lucy.

To her credit, Lucy has kept the secret from her little sister, who still hasn’t lost a tooth and deserves to wake up with money under her pillow.

But the Tooth Fairy knew it couldn’t be too long before Santa was similarly unmasked. She didn’t know when or how, but she knew the days of magic in her house, at least magic of a certain sort, were coming to an end.

And the Tooth Fairy—by which I mean myself—was pretty darned sad about the inevitable, which finally arrived last week.

Lucy and I have been exchanging notes since the school year started. We’ve talked about all sorts of things—sports, books we’d like to read, adventures we’d like to have, even stories from when I was in third grade. For the most part, though, it’s been light, casual stuff. Until last week.

I NEED TO KNOW, she wrote, using capital letters for emphasis. ARE YOU SANTA? TELL ME THE TRUTH.

What do you do when your kid asks for the truth? You tell it, of course, doing your best to figure out a way that keeps at least some of the magic intact.

Here’s what I wrote:

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Dear Lucy,

Thank you for your letter. You asked a very good question: “Are you Santa?”

I know you’ve wanted the answer to this question for a long time, and I’ve had to give it careful thought to know just what to say.

The answer is no. I am not Santa. There is no one Santa.

I am the person who fills your stockings with presents, though. I also choose and wrap the presents under the tree, the same way my mom did for me, and the same way her mom did for her. (And yes, Daddy helps, too.)

I imagine you will someday do this for your children, and I know you will love seeing them run down the stairs on Christmas morning. You will love seeing them sit under the tree, their small faces lit with Christmas lights.

This won’t make you Santa, though.

Santa is bigger than any person, and his work has gone on longer than any of us have lived. What he does is simple, but it is powerful. He teaches children how to have belief in something they can’t see or touch.

It’s a big job, and it’s an important one. Throughout your life, you will need this capacity to believe: in yourself, in your friends, in your talents and in your family. You’ll also need to believe in things you can’t measure or even hold in your hand. Here, I am talking about love, that great power that will light your life from the inside out, even during its darkest, coldest moments.

Santa is a teacher, and I have been his student, and now you know the secret of how he gets down all those chimneys on Christmas Eve: he has help from all the people whose hearts he’s filled with joy.

With full hearts, people like Daddy and me take our turns helping Santa do a job that would otherwise be impossible.

So, no. I am not Santa. Santa is love and magic and hope and happiness. I’m on his team, and now you are, too.

I love you and I always will.
Mama

Oh hello, belly.

A Child's Ten Commandments to Parents by Dr. Kevin Leman

1.  My hands are small; please don't expect perfection whenever I make a bed, draw a picture or throw a ball. My legs are short; please slow down so that I can keep up with you.
2. My eyes have not seen the world as yours have; please let me explore safely. Don't restrict me unnecessarily.
3. Housework will always be there. I'm only little for a short time, please take time to explain things to me about this wonderful world and do so willingly.
4. My feelings are tender; please be sensitive to my needs. Don't nag me all day long. (You wouldn't want to be nagged for your inquisitiveness). Treat me as you would like to be treated.
5. I am a special gift from God; please treasure me as God intended you to do, holding me accountable for my actions, giving me guidelines to live by and disciplining me in a loving manner.
6. I need your encouragement to grow. Please go easy on the criticism; remember, you can criticize the things I do without criticizing me.
7. Please give me the freedom to make decisions concerning myself. Permit me to fail, so that I can learn from my mistakes. Then someday I'll be prepared to make the kinds of decisions that life requires of me.
8. Please don't do things over for me. Somehow that makes me feel that my efforts didn't quite measure up to your expectations. I know it's hard, but please don't try to compare me to my brother or sister.
9. Please don't be afraid to leave for a weekend together. Kids need vacations from parents, just as parents need vacations from kids. Besides, it's a great way to show us kids that your marriage is very special.
10. Please take me to church regularly, setting a good example for me to follow. I enjoy learning more about God.

The morning radio show that I listen to brought up an interesting thought several weeks ago:  Do we "peak" at some point in our lives with our looks?  Do we have a few really good years before we go downhill?  The men on the show, and it is all men on the show except for a few female guests, seemed to think that their "peak" lasted 5-7 years while a woman's "peak" lasted 3-5. 

I agree.

My peak has come and gone, people, and I am thoroughly disappointed.  My peak was in my early 20's (good god, that makes me feel so old).  Need evidence?  All of these pictures were taken 2005-2007.  Three whole years.

Look!  I had a waist!



My dress, though made to fit, was too big for me the day of my wedding.  It was a size 4.



Abs, anyone?

And then, the downfall.  All pictures were taken 2008-2011.







Some may argue that my peak happened before I had children and your body and metabolism change afterward, I had more "me" time before I had kids, blah blah blah.  Truth is, I probably peaked.  And, for me, it is pretty disappointing, but just a fact of life.

Do you agree or disagree that people "peak" at some point in their lives?  Have you "peaked"?