I totally planned on going home last night to clean and pack. Instead I did something even better. I got my hair did. There is nothing more fabulous than going to the salon looking like death and coming out looking like a quarter of a million bucks. The appointment was unexpected, she had a last minute cancellation and asked me if I wanted to come in! I didn't even hesitate.
Chris gave me the once over when I got home and asked me if I felt better now that I "got my head fixed."
Men.
However, the answer to that question is yes, I feel better now that my hair is fixed. My head, however, has a long way to go.
***
Cameryn's class was supposed to go to the zoo today for a field trip, but it was raining. She was so excited last night and of course didn't want to go to sleep. I asked her to lay down and close her eyes. She said, "I can't close my eyes. My eyes are broken. When I close my eyes it's black in there." I laughed all the way out of her room.
***
I hit a new low today. I became one of those annoying parents that leave their child's fundraising packet out in the break room and email their immediate family members and beg them to buy something that they don't need. It really is for a good cause though.
Don't you roll your eyes at me! See, Cameryn's daycare is small (which is one of the reasons I love it!) and it recently came under new ownership (thank god, because the old owner sucked - big time.) The new owners are from Miami and are fulfilling a lifelong dream by owing the daycare. They are awesome - plain and simple. They are involved on a daily basis. They have provided so many activities and items at no cost to the parents. I love them. The kids love them. The teachers love them. Overall, everyone is much, much happier with our new owners.
Anyway, since our old owners sucked and pretty much neglected the outside playground and bought crappy toys that didn't last a week, we need new stuff for our kids. We're trying to raise money to do so and the fundraiser is just the beginning. So I emailed the fundraiser out to our family because it's not all wrapping paper and candy. There's flowers, and baking items, and trashy magazines too.
The things we do for our kids.
***
We're going to Raleigh this weekend for our nephew's fourth birthday. The kids are going to have so much fun together. Plus there will be cake. I love cake.
***
I've decided to give up candy for lent. Yes, candy. All of it. Except gum. Because I don't consider gum candy. Chewy candy and reese's pb cups are my weakness. I have a candy dish on my desk at work. And I always have more candy in my desk drawer. It's going to be a long few weeks. On the flip side, I bet my butt will shrink.
What are you giving up for lent? Anything?
Chris gave me the once over when I got home and asked me if I felt better now that I "got my head fixed."
Men.
However, the answer to that question is yes, I feel better now that my hair is fixed. My head, however, has a long way to go.
***
Cameryn's class was supposed to go to the zoo today for a field trip, but it was raining. She was so excited last night and of course didn't want to go to sleep. I asked her to lay down and close her eyes. She said, "I can't close my eyes. My eyes are broken. When I close my eyes it's black in there." I laughed all the way out of her room.
***
I hit a new low today. I became one of those annoying parents that leave their child's fundraising packet out in the break room and email their immediate family members and beg them to buy something that they don't need. It really is for a good cause though.
Don't you roll your eyes at me! See, Cameryn's daycare is small (which is one of the reasons I love it!) and it recently came under new ownership (thank god, because the old owner sucked - big time.) The new owners are from Miami and are fulfilling a lifelong dream by owing the daycare. They are awesome - plain and simple. They are involved on a daily basis. They have provided so many activities and items at no cost to the parents. I love them. The kids love them. The teachers love them. Overall, everyone is much, much happier with our new owners.
Anyway, since our old owners sucked and pretty much neglected the outside playground and bought crappy toys that didn't last a week, we need new stuff for our kids. We're trying to raise money to do so and the fundraiser is just the beginning. So I emailed the fundraiser out to our family because it's not all wrapping paper and candy. There's flowers, and baking items, and trashy magazines too.
The things we do for our kids.
***
We're going to Raleigh this weekend for our nephew's fourth birthday. The kids are going to have so much fun together. Plus there will be cake. I love cake.
***
I've decided to give up candy for lent. Yes, candy. All of it. Except gum. Because I don't consider gum candy. Chewy candy and reese's pb cups are my weakness. I have a candy dish on my desk at work. And I always have more candy in my desk drawer. It's going to be a long few weeks. On the flip side, I bet my butt will shrink.
What are you giving up for lent? Anything?
I've mentioned before that I am somewhat of a clean freak. I drive Chris crazy. I believe that everything has a place and should stay in that place when not in use. I also believe that my house should be mostly clean at all times. A clean house makes living easier. I'm also one of those people that is embarrassed when someone comes by to visit (unexpected or planned!) and dust is flying around, dog hairs are covering the floor and my kitchen still has remnant's of a meal cooked earlier in the day on the counter. The house is usually mostly clean, but right now, my house looks like a disaster area. Dishes are piled up in the sink because the dishwasher is clean, dust is everywhere, the Dyson needs to be put to good use, and don't get me started on the bathrooms. Ew, ew, ew. We're going out of town this weekend for our nephew's birthday party and a friend is staying at our house to watch the dogs. Guess what I'll be doing tonight? Yes, cleaning. And packing.
Speaking of cleaning, do your kids do chores? I grew up with a (non-paying) chore list. As in, every day during the school year we had something that involved a cleaning product to do around the house (and people wonder why I am so fond of Lysol!) My summer mornings were spent on my hands and knees, like Cinderella before the ball, scrubbing the hardwood floors because my mother does not believe in using a mop. Sunday was not a "Funday" and it was not a day of rest in our house. My dad would parade into the living room and hand me a bottle of pledge and tell me to get to work. Dusting involved moving every item from the built-in bookcases and dusting it. This also meant that every week, I removed the collection of encyclopedias, one book at a time, dusted each book, and placed it back. (Yes! encyclopedias, remember those?! Kids today really don't know how good they have it.) And that was just the living room! See, my mom loves things on every surface. Her house looks like World Market mated with Pottery Barn and the offspring vomited Pier One. There was/still is stuff everywhere. This hated Sunday dusting ritual was effective. Though I detest the thought of dusting I still dust every week. Call me lazy, but, um, sorry dad, I don't remove all of the books from our bookcase.
I know that thechild labor chore list that I was exposed to growing up made me the clean freak that I am now. I learned to respect the value of each item. You better believe that my children will do chores every day. There is absolutely no reason for them not to. Life isn't a free ride and their living quarters aren't free either. They need to take full responsibility for the mess that they create and also be asked to participate in the cleaning the house that they live in. They have plenty of time to be children, they can take 30 minutes a day and clean their room, their bathroom, the kitchen, the dog, whatever, they just need to do it.
Cameryn already cleans up the table after a meal Sometimes she'll help me put the clean silverware away. She knows where her shoes and clothes go and will put them away when asked. She knows where her toys go and cleans them up when she is done playing, most of the time without being asked. She's a relatively clean little person - for a toddler. (Toddler's are gross little people. They eat boogers, dirt, food from the floor. They touch everything. They share food with animals. They stick their hands in their butts. Cameryn used to drink water from the dog bowls. But it's okay. How else do they learn what is acceptable?)
I know kids that don't do chores at all. They have absolutely no responsibilities other than school work and their parents wonder why the house always rivals the chaos after a hurricane. I think it's ridiculous and, surprise! I don't keep my mouth shut about it either. When they whine to me about their messy house, or their kids who don't appreciate their things, or that they don't know the value of a dollar? Yeah, I have words for them and I don't blame it on the kids. Kids only learn what they are taught. I know because I did.
Do you agree or disagree with me? What chores are your children responsible for?
Speaking of cleaning, do your kids do chores? I grew up with a (non-paying) chore list. As in, every day during the school year we had something that involved a cleaning product to do around the house (and people wonder why I am so fond of Lysol!) My summer mornings were spent on my hands and knees, like Cinderella before the ball, scrubbing the hardwood floors because my mother does not believe in using a mop. Sunday was not a "Funday" and it was not a day of rest in our house. My dad would parade into the living room and hand me a bottle of pledge and tell me to get to work. Dusting involved moving every item from the built-in bookcases and dusting it. This also meant that every week, I removed the collection of encyclopedias, one book at a time, dusted each book, and placed it back. (Yes! encyclopedias, remember those?! Kids today really don't know how good they have it.) And that was just the living room! See, my mom loves things on every surface. Her house looks like World Market mated with Pottery Barn and the offspring vomited Pier One. There was/still is stuff everywhere. This hated Sunday dusting ritual was effective. Though I detest the thought of dusting I still dust every week. Call me lazy, but, um, sorry dad, I don't remove all of the books from our bookcase.
I know that the
Cameryn already cleans up the table after a meal Sometimes she'll help me put the clean silverware away. She knows where her shoes and clothes go and will put them away when asked. She knows where her toys go and cleans them up when she is done playing, most of the time without being asked. She's a relatively clean little person - for a toddler. (Toddler's are gross little people. They eat boogers, dirt, food from the floor. They touch everything. They share food with animals. They stick their hands in their butts. Cameryn used to drink water from the dog bowls. But it's okay. How else do they learn what is acceptable?)
I know kids that don't do chores at all. They have absolutely no responsibilities other than school work and their parents wonder why the house always rivals the chaos after a hurricane. I think it's ridiculous and, surprise! I don't keep my mouth shut about it either. When they whine to me about their messy house, or their kids who don't appreciate their things, or that they don't know the value of a dollar? Yeah, I have words for them and I don't blame it on the kids. Kids only learn what they are taught. I know because I did.
Do you agree or disagree with me? What chores are your children responsible for?
Cameryn is two. Most of the time she talks like a four year old; her vocabulary and comprehension amaze me daily. She's opinionated. Stubborn. Independent. Sweet. Caring. She's turning into such a big girl, much more quickly than I would like. Sometimes I just want to shrink her and bottle her up and save her and all of these rare, precious moments.
Other times, yeah, not so much. For example....
Last night she was crying and miserable because I told her she couldn't have a blue lollipop. She cried for thirty minutes in her "safe place" by the front door. (She always goes and sits on the rug by the front door when she gets very upset. Sometimes she'll just walk over there and cry for no reason.) I ignored her. And ten minutes later, forty minutes total, I thought I was going to have to down the bottle of wine in my fridge because she was still screaming and crying about the damn lollipop (but it was National Margarita Day, so I didn't have any wine because that would have been disrespectful to the day. Come to think of it, I didn't have a margarita either. Shame on me.)
But, the rest of the night was great. She was her normal silly and cheerful self. We read books for an hour and a half. She would bring me a book and say, "This one is my favvvvvvorite!" I laughed each and every time, she has a lot of favorite books! She would give me a hug and kiss after each book (which is rare these days.) Such a sweet, sweet girl. I rocked her for a few extra minutes last night after the last book before bed. I just wanted to hold on and savor that moment to breathe her in. Just me and her. Cuddled up. Sleepy.
This morning Chris dropped her off at school and she was rushed right into her class because they were practicing for graduation. Graduation. She's two. And she's practicing for graduation. Uggggggggggggh. I get teary just writing the word. She's graduating to the big building at school, where the three year olds go. Chris said that she was being a very good listener (again, rare these days) and did not play with her friends who were excited that she arrived at school. She just stood in line and listened to her teacher.
Sigh.
I'm going to be crying my eyes out at two year old graduation.
Other times, yeah, not so much. For example....
Last night she was crying and miserable because I told her she couldn't have a blue lollipop. She cried for thirty minutes in her "safe place" by the front door. (She always goes and sits on the rug by the front door when she gets very upset. Sometimes she'll just walk over there and cry for no reason.) I ignored her. And ten minutes later, forty minutes total, I thought I was going to have to down the bottle of wine in my fridge because she was still screaming and crying about the damn lollipop (but it was National Margarita Day, so I didn't have any wine because that would have been disrespectful to the day. Come to think of it, I didn't have a margarita either. Shame on me.)
But, the rest of the night was great. She was her normal silly and cheerful self. We read books for an hour and a half. She would bring me a book and say, "This one is my favvvvvvorite!" I laughed each and every time, she has a lot of favorite books! She would give me a hug and kiss after each book (which is rare these days.) Such a sweet, sweet girl. I rocked her for a few extra minutes last night after the last book before bed. I just wanted to hold on and savor that moment to breathe her in. Just me and her. Cuddled up. Sleepy.
This morning Chris dropped her off at school and she was rushed right into her class because they were practicing for graduation. Graduation. She's two. And she's practicing for graduation. Uggggggggggggh. I get teary just writing the word. She's graduating to the big building at school, where the three year olds go. Chris said that she was being a very good listener (again, rare these days) and did not play with her friends who were excited that she arrived at school. She just stood in line and listened to her teacher.
Sigh.
I'm going to be crying my eyes out at two year old graduation.
I was a gymnast, never a cheerleader. I lived for gymnastics. I coached gymnastics because I loved it, still do! It's only natural that Cameryn will love it too, right? We haven't enrolled her in classes yet, but plan to do so soon. When I found out I was having a girl, I was given several leotards from Shana that her girls outgrew and kept them at the back of Cameryn's pajama drawer. She found them last night when picking out her PJ's, was immediately fascinated and had a little fashion show. She would put one leo on and then say, "Okay Mommy, take a picture! Cheese!" and then ask to see the picture before she took off the leo and put on another one! She was so funny!
{sigh}
I miss traveling. I miss the excitement of stepping off a plane and being enveloped into a world of the unknown. Smells that make your nose hairs burn. Sounds that makes your toes curl. Sights that are so unbelievably breathtakingly beautiful that you cannot help but close your eyes and attempt to file it away in your mind. The bliss of knowing that everything is out there just waiting for you to explore - a feeling of total childhood wonder.
I was exposed to a life-altering opportunity and a multitude of cultures and experiences that most people can only read about in a Frommer's travel guide book or see Anthony Bourdain tour on tv.
I'm an ex-pat kid, but not military. I had two full passports before a driver's license. I had no idea how to do laundry until I was in college. I will drive miles for good Asian food. I get a good laugh and shoot an evil eye when someone talks about their 'long flight across country to the opposite coast.' Don't talk to me about long flights until you have spent 29 consecutive hours trying to get back to your own bed. My school field trips were out of country and yes, some were actually required.
Ex-pat kids have a rootless sense of the world and experiences that most people can never fully understand. We are a privileged group, one that has been everywhere but cannot identify with anyone. Ask me where I'm from, I cannot tell you. I never lived in one place long enough to call home, until now.
To me, home is where the memories are. I don't live in the past, but these priceless moments define who I am.
I have vivid memories of...
Newton circus in Singapore.
The way that I felt when I stepped off the plane in Lombok into their tiny little hut of an airport.
Road trips to Kaula Lumpur.
India. Sitting inside the Taj Mahal with three old Indian ladies; watching the sunrise at the top of the mountain; my camel, Journey, that had a mind of its own and would just wander off.
The first time I rode in a Tuk-tuk.
Bali.
Football games in Korea.
Phuket. Phi-Phi.
Nepal. Oh, Nepal, such a sad place with beautiful surroundings... Swayambunath monkey temple where the monkey's pulled a girl's pigtails, the river of life and death, Royal Chitwan National Park where the rhino decided that it would be fun to charge us.
Chatcuhak and PatPong in Bangkok.
Elephant rides in Chiang Rai.
Europe - France, England, Italy, Holland, Greece...
Go ahead, say it, I do: I'm a spoiled ex-pat kid. However, I'm also well adjusted. Tolerant. Knowledgeable. Lucky. So, so lucky and so very humbled.
{sigh}
I'm hopeful that I am able to give my child(ren) similar lessons and experiences than I was exposed to.
It's good for the soul.
I miss traveling. I miss the excitement of stepping off a plane and being enveloped into a world of the unknown. Smells that make your nose hairs burn. Sounds that makes your toes curl. Sights that are so unbelievably breathtakingly beautiful that you cannot help but close your eyes and attempt to file it away in your mind. The bliss of knowing that everything is out there just waiting for you to explore - a feeling of total childhood wonder.
I was exposed to a life-altering opportunity and a multitude of cultures and experiences that most people can only read about in a Frommer's travel guide book or see Anthony Bourdain tour on tv.
I'm an ex-pat kid, but not military. I had two full passports before a driver's license. I had no idea how to do laundry until I was in college. I will drive miles for good Asian food. I get a good laugh and shoot an evil eye when someone talks about their 'long flight across country to the opposite coast.' Don't talk to me about long flights until you have spent 29 consecutive hours trying to get back to your own bed. My school field trips were out of country and yes, some were actually required.
Ex-pat kids have a rootless sense of the world and experiences that most people can never fully understand. We are a privileged group, one that has been everywhere but cannot identify with anyone. Ask me where I'm from, I cannot tell you. I never lived in one place long enough to call home, until now.
To me, home is where the memories are. I don't live in the past, but these priceless moments define who I am.
I have vivid memories of...
Newton circus in Singapore.
The way that I felt when I stepped off the plane in Lombok into their tiny little hut of an airport.
Road trips to Kaula Lumpur.
India. Sitting inside the Taj Mahal with three old Indian ladies; watching the sunrise at the top of the mountain; my camel, Journey, that had a mind of its own and would just wander off.
The first time I rode in a Tuk-tuk.
Bali.
Football games in Korea.
Phuket. Phi-Phi.
Nepal. Oh, Nepal, such a sad place with beautiful surroundings... Swayambunath monkey temple where the monkey's pulled a girl's pigtails, the river of life and death, Royal Chitwan National Park where the rhino decided that it would be fun to charge us.
Chatcuhak and PatPong in Bangkok.
Elephant rides in Chiang Rai.
Europe - France, England, Italy, Holland, Greece...
Go ahead, say it, I do: I'm a spoiled ex-pat kid. However, I'm also well adjusted. Tolerant. Knowledgeable. Lucky. So, so lucky and so very humbled.
{sigh}
I'm hopeful that I am able to give my child(ren) similar lessons and experiences than I was exposed to.
It's good for the soul.
My husband is was so romantic. While dating (for five long years) he would surprise me with candlelit dinners, flowers, jewelry - the typical mushy stuff. He never disappointed me on Valentine's Day.
Then we got married. Chivalry died.
Our first Valentine's Day as an old married couple was in 2006. Chris and I were both working long hours, but because I worked around kids, I was smothered in the red and pink sugary Valentine's Day madness and was reminded every few minutes about what day it was. Chris works at Lowe's so Valentine's Day tends to go unnoticed in his line of work (unless some woman goes to buy tools so her husband can complete the Honey-Do list!)
I knew he forgot about Valentine's Day. And I was right. Because he came home with this.
A gorilla.
In a tube.
From the gas station.
When he went in to pay for his gas, this gorilla was a gentle reminder of what day it was.
Because, obviously, he's crazy about me.
And after all these years (eleven!), though he makes a little crazy, I'm still crazy about him too.
Then we got married. Chivalry died.
Our first Valentine's Day as an old married couple was in 2006. Chris and I were both working long hours, but because I worked around kids, I was smothered in the red and pink sugary Valentine's Day madness and was reminded every few minutes about what day it was. Chris works at Lowe's so Valentine's Day tends to go unnoticed in his line of work (unless some woman goes to buy tools so her husband can complete the Honey-Do list!)
I knew he forgot about Valentine's Day. And I was right. Because he came home with this.
A gorilla.
In a tube.
From the gas station.
When he went in to pay for his gas, this gorilla was a gentle reminder of what day it was.
Because, obviously, he's crazy about me.
And after all these years (eleven!), though he makes a little crazy, I'm still crazy about him too.
While this is nothing to joke about, I am flabbergasted that they had to issue a recall.
I'd like to recall the parents instead. The product isn't faulty, the parents are. What good is a recall going to do if the parents are at fault? The manufacturer can re-issue the product with a bigger and better warning label and instruction packet, but I find it doubtful that some already slack-ass-non-instruction-reading parent is going to read an even larger manual.
Effing morons.
DUH!
I'd like to recall the parents instead. The product isn't faulty, the parents are. What good is a recall going to do if the parents are at fault? The manufacturer can re-issue the product with a bigger and better warning label and instruction packet, but I find it doubtful that some already slack-ass-non-instruction-reading parent is going to read an even larger manual.
Effing morons.
DUH!
This has been one of those weeks. You know, where you go through the motions of the day, sometimes slightly more clear headed than others but mostly you just feel like you're floating thru outer space with no chance of ever getting back to the station? No? Never? Eh, must just be me then.
Geez. Just a warning, incoherent rambling is in the near future.
What the heck is my deal? Maybe it's the two cups of coffee that I have had everyday this week (I normally have just one.) Or maybe it's the crazy weather we have had. Or maybe its because I'm a little stressed about some decisions that we may have to make in the next few weeks. Sigh. Who the heck knows. I'm female. I can't even figure myself out. Anyhow, I just want to feel normal again instead of like some space alien from planet x. Seriously, I haven't felt this, well, stupid, since I was pregnant. (And, no, I'm not.)
Yesterday sucked. I totally screwed up appointments on my calendar. As in, I sent the wrong invites to the wrong clients. It took me over a half hour to fix it. I dealt with dumb people all day and would rather have drove a pencil through my eardrum than listening to their b.s. excuses. And that made me eat way too many Reese's PB Hearts which made me feel disgusting. Instead of working out I spent the night with one of the BFF's talking crap (which made me feel way better.)
Today, Cameryn woke up way too early after going to bed way too late, which makes me feel way too crazy. I feel really gross (thank you Reese's PB Hearts.) I hit the trashcan backing out of the driveway (don't worry, Chris, the car is fine). Yes, I have a backup camera. I still hit the damn thing. I blame it on the garbage man who didn't put the trashcan back where he found it (sidewalk, anyone?) and instead placed too close to my car.
But, it's Friday. Which means that I have a few hours of the work week left. The weekend should be better. The sun will be out. My overtired toddler will hopefully take a long nap. I am due for several long runs in 60 degree weather. Dinner with friends. And more laundry. Sigh. I'll fold laundry all day long. But please, don't ask me to put it away, I loathe the thought of putting away the laundry. Sometimes I cry when actually doing it. Seriously.
Wine is in the weekend forecast.
Thank you, baby Jesus, it's Friday.
Geez. Just a warning, incoherent rambling is in the near future.
What the heck is my deal? Maybe it's the two cups of coffee that I have had everyday this week (I normally have just one.) Or maybe it's the crazy weather we have had. Or maybe its because I'm a little stressed about some decisions that we may have to make in the next few weeks. Sigh. Who the heck knows. I'm female. I can't even figure myself out. Anyhow, I just want to feel normal again instead of like some space alien from planet x. Seriously, I haven't felt this, well, stupid, since I was pregnant. (And, no, I'm not.)
Yesterday sucked. I totally screwed up appointments on my calendar. As in, I sent the wrong invites to the wrong clients. It took me over a half hour to fix it. I dealt with dumb people all day and would rather have drove a pencil through my eardrum than listening to their b.s. excuses. And that made me eat way too many Reese's PB Hearts which made me feel disgusting. Instead of working out I spent the night with one of the BFF's talking crap (which made me feel way better.)
Today, Cameryn woke up way too early after going to bed way too late, which makes me feel way too crazy. I feel really gross (thank you Reese's PB Hearts.) I hit the trashcan backing out of the driveway (don't worry, Chris, the car is fine). Yes, I have a backup camera. I still hit the damn thing. I blame it on the garbage man who didn't put the trashcan back where he found it (sidewalk, anyone?) and instead placed too close to my car.
But, it's Friday. Which means that I have a few hours of the work week left. The weekend should be better. The sun will be out. My overtired toddler will hopefully take a long nap. I am due for several long runs in 60 degree weather. Dinner with friends. And more laundry. Sigh. I'll fold laundry all day long. But please, don't ask me to put it away, I loathe the thought of putting away the laundry. Sometimes I cry when actually doing it. Seriously.
Wine is in the weekend forecast.
Thank you, baby Jesus, it's Friday.
Cameryn got a noodle stuck in her nose. A cooked noodle.
Don't ask me how, I have no clue (good parenting, I know.) One minute she was eating spaghetti quietly and the next she said, "Mommy, I have a noodle in my nose." I looked at her nose and there wasn't a noodle. 20 minutes later, after her bath water was tinged a lovely spaghetti sauce red, she threw her head back laughing, and I saw it.
The noodle. In her nose.
So I did what every good parent does when their child has a noodle in their nose, I laughed and called her Noodle Nose (which she did not appreciate at all) and then asked myself, "How the &^%# am I going to get that thing out?"
I tried getting her to blow her nose, but at two years old, it requires much more coordination that one would think. I phoned a friend who has three kids (who apparently have never put anything in their nose) and she told me to try tweezers. I did without success. It was just too far up in her nose and I couldn't grab the noodle without it breaking. Next, I called Stephanie, a nurse with two kids of her own, hoping that she could a) come over and help me hold Cameryn down while trying to get the blasted noodle, or b) give me some new ideas to remove the blasted noodle. She couldn't come over since she was home alone with her kiddos, but told me to try massaging her nose, wet paper towels, Q-Tips... I finally called Chris and told him that he needed to come home from work to help me get a noodle out of her nose. He was slightly amused, mainly because this is something that would happen on his watch, not mine, but agreed to come home and help noodle fish with me.
After twenty minutes of trying to retrieve said noodle, Cameryn was screaming. She was obviously traumatized. Her nose hurt. I gave her a lollipop and I Googled it. Thank god for all of the forums on things in a kid's nose (beads, lego people, playdoh, erasers, masking tape balls.) Though sadly, there was only one reference to a cooked noodle and there wasn't any clue on how to get it out. But I did find one thing that I thought would work...
I held Cameryn's arms so she couldn't smack me, plugged the noodle free nostril with my finger, and went to blow into her mouth. She freaked and told me not to blow in her mouth, so I told her to try blowing out of her nose. Finally, after 4-5 times of blowing out of her nose with one nostril covered, the noodle came out covered in snot and blood. She was so proud.
The noodle was a little less than an inch long. Here it is with a juice box straw for comparison.
Don't ask me how, I have no clue (good parenting, I know.) One minute she was eating spaghetti quietly and the next she said, "Mommy, I have a noodle in my nose." I looked at her nose and there wasn't a noodle. 20 minutes later, after her bath water was tinged a lovely spaghetti sauce red, she threw her head back laughing, and I saw it.
The noodle. In her nose.
So I did what every good parent does when their child has a noodle in their nose, I laughed and called her Noodle Nose (which she did not appreciate at all) and then asked myself, "How the &^%# am I going to get that thing out?"
I tried getting her to blow her nose, but at two years old, it requires much more coordination that one would think. I phoned a friend who has three kids (who apparently have never put anything in their nose) and she told me to try tweezers. I did without success. It was just too far up in her nose and I couldn't grab the noodle without it breaking. Next, I called Stephanie, a nurse with two kids of her own, hoping that she could a) come over and help me hold Cameryn down while trying to get the blasted noodle, or b) give me some new ideas to remove the blasted noodle. She couldn't come over since she was home alone with her kiddos, but told me to try massaging her nose, wet paper towels, Q-Tips... I finally called Chris and told him that he needed to come home from work to help me get a noodle out of her nose. He was slightly amused, mainly because this is something that would happen on his watch, not mine, but agreed to come home and help noodle fish with me.
After twenty minutes of trying to retrieve said noodle, Cameryn was screaming. She was obviously traumatized. Her nose hurt. I gave her a lollipop and I Googled it. Thank god for all of the forums on things in a kid's nose (beads, lego people, playdoh, erasers, masking tape balls.) Though sadly, there was only one reference to a cooked noodle and there wasn't any clue on how to get it out. But I did find one thing that I thought would work...
I held Cameryn's arms so she couldn't smack me, plugged the noodle free nostril with my finger, and went to blow into her mouth. She freaked and told me not to blow in her mouth, so I told her to try blowing out of her nose. Finally, after 4-5 times of blowing out of her nose with one nostril covered, the noodle came out covered in snot and blood. She was so proud.
The noodle was a little less than an inch long. Here it is with a juice box straw for comparison.
Miss Noodle Nose, post noodle.
I went to school to teach but never actually did. I'm not certified and am still not sure that I want to be certified. I did loads of internships in college, as required, and loved it, but never took that step. Instead, I chose to coach recreational and competitive gymnastics. I was a gymnast when I was younger and I still get butterflies when I see an out of this world routine. Gymnastics, and all of my gymnasts, will always have their own little forever nook inside of me.
The gym that Ilived worked at started to dabble in childcare when the owners and some of the employees started to have their own families. The only logical answer was to start a childcare and there was only one person who was qualified to run it - me. Almost overnight, I became the Director of a child care center as well as coach and manager. I taught preschool by day and gymnastics by night. It was awesome. But exhausting.
Fast forward a few years.. I have my own kid. I like teaching her about new things. We do arts and crafts projects on the weekend. I use old lesson plans to teach her and guide her. These moments, though short lived, create a new dynamic between the two of us, one that I enjoy and look forward to experiencing more of. I refer to my old textbooks and notes for ideas, lesson plans, and insight into a child's mind. Sometimes my friends will call me about problems with their kids. I'm not an expert. I have no more knowledge than what I can find in a book or on wikipedia (and it must be true if it's on wikipedia. Right?! HA!)
Thank goodness for the blog world. I am reaching out to you!
CC is a female 4th grade student in a SC public school who has been struggling with some sort of undiagnosed learning disability since her early school years. Her teachers and parents have questioned whether or not to hold her back a grade since the first grade, and always decide, together, that the best answer is no. After speaking with the school and CC's doctor, CC had a sleep test, was diagnosed with apnea and had her tonsils and adenoids removed in hopes that uninterrupted sleep would help her advance. Did it help? Well, she doesn't get strep anymore but her daily work at school is still suffering. The school has tested her, but she does not qualify for special education classes. instead, CC is pulled from her class to have one on one teaching for an hour and a half each day. The school psychologist has met with CC and didn't find anything unusual or anything to be concerned about. No one has answers, yet CC is still struggling. Her grades are terrible and all parties are extremely concerned. Her parents work with her daily and on the weekends for several hours helping her with school work. She has had private tutors and private summer schooling for the past several years. Today CC's mom met with her teachers and gained no additional information on the cause, diagnosis, or plan for the future. No one has any answers or any ideas as to what to do next.
If any of you have any information on LD's, LD testing, private testing centers or any ideas at all, please comment or message me. We need all the help we can get!
The gym that I
Fast forward a few years.. I have my own kid. I like teaching her about new things. We do arts and crafts projects on the weekend. I use old lesson plans to teach her and guide her. These moments, though short lived, create a new dynamic between the two of us, one that I enjoy and look forward to experiencing more of. I refer to my old textbooks and notes for ideas, lesson plans, and insight into a child's mind. Sometimes my friends will call me about problems with their kids. I'm not an expert. I have no more knowledge than what I can find in a book or on wikipedia (and it must be true if it's on wikipedia. Right?! HA!)
Thank goodness for the blog world. I am reaching out to you!
CC is a female 4th grade student in a SC public school who has been struggling with some sort of undiagnosed learning disability since her early school years. Her teachers and parents have questioned whether or not to hold her back a grade since the first grade, and always decide, together, that the best answer is no. After speaking with the school and CC's doctor, CC had a sleep test, was diagnosed with apnea and had her tonsils and adenoids removed in hopes that uninterrupted sleep would help her advance. Did it help? Well, she doesn't get strep anymore but her daily work at school is still suffering. The school has tested her, but she does not qualify for special education classes. instead, CC is pulled from her class to have one on one teaching for an hour and a half each day. The school psychologist has met with CC and didn't find anything unusual or anything to be concerned about. No one has answers, yet CC is still struggling. Her grades are terrible and all parties are extremely concerned. Her parents work with her daily and on the weekends for several hours helping her with school work. She has had private tutors and private summer schooling for the past several years. Today CC's mom met with her teachers and gained no additional information on the cause, diagnosis, or plan for the future. No one has any answers or any ideas as to what to do next.
If any of you have any information on LD's, LD testing, private testing centers or any ideas at all, please comment or message me. We need all the help we can get!
February is all about "love."
I thought I'd share a few things that I'm loving this month:
Though it makes me sad that Cameryn is growing up -I am so proud that she is a happy, well adjusted, polite and independent little girl!
I thought I'd share a few things that I'm loving this month:
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| YUM! |
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| I love mangoes! Especially with oatmeal and a little brown sugar. What a great way to start my day! |
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| They are so much better than the regular PB cups. But, in moderation, of course. |
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| I love this mirror. I'm dreaming of some redecorating! |
Though it makes me sad that Cameryn is growing up -I am so proud that she is a happy, well adjusted, polite and independent little girl!
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| Her souvenir from the circus... Cameryn had her first field trip and loved it! |
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| Her first pony ride all by herself. |
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| Sweet girl. |
This guy. He makes me laugh.
What are you loving this month?
Sometime around my birthday last year I fell off the "I ROCK!" bandwagon. I felt terrible about myself. My mood was cloudy and dark. My attitude left much to be desired. My self-esteem was about this big and I gained almost 10 lbs. When I looked in the mirror I was disgusted and angry about everything, but yet I couldn't bring myself to do anything about it. November was kind of a break through month for me. I realized that it was so much more than just my self-esteem suffering, everything about me and everything around me was suffering. I finally talked to my doctor about meds and have been on them for two months. What a difference they have made! The days aren't so gloomy anymore. I don't feel so overwhelmed. I don't stress about each and every little thing. I laugh. A lot.
The past few weeks I have made myself start exercising again. A few months ago, I would feel guilty about not spending time with Cameryn after being at work all day and wouldn't bother to exercise. Now, I can leave knowing that I will be a better mom and wife for doing so. Taking a few minutes each day for myself doesn't define me as a selfish person. When I come back from a run, I'm happier, healthier, more patient. When I exercise, I eat healthier. I feel better. I make all around better decisions. And because I am making better decisions, I know that my life will be more fulfilling and the moments that I spend with my family and friends are more worthwhile because I am actually there wholeheartedly. This morning it's cold and pouring down rain. A few months ago I would have a mood that had a strong resemblance to the weather. But today? I'm okay. I'm me.
This morning as I was getting dressed I noticed that I can feel and see muscle tone again. I jumped right back on that "I ROCK" bandwagon, because I do.
I did it.
For me.
For Chris.
For Cameryn.
But mostly, for me. And it's okay to say that.
Please, hold me accountable. Don't let me fall off again.
The past few weeks I have made myself start exercising again. A few months ago, I would feel guilty about not spending time with Cameryn after being at work all day and wouldn't bother to exercise. Now, I can leave knowing that I will be a better mom and wife for doing so. Taking a few minutes each day for myself doesn't define me as a selfish person. When I come back from a run, I'm happier, healthier, more patient. When I exercise, I eat healthier. I feel better. I make all around better decisions. And because I am making better decisions, I know that my life will be more fulfilling and the moments that I spend with my family and friends are more worthwhile because I am actually there wholeheartedly. This morning it's cold and pouring down rain. A few months ago I would have a mood that had a strong resemblance to the weather. But today? I'm okay. I'm me.
This morning as I was getting dressed I noticed that I can feel and see muscle tone again. I jumped right back on that "I ROCK" bandwagon, because I do.
I did it.
For me.
For Chris.
For Cameryn.
But mostly, for me. And it's okay to say that.
Please, hold me accountable. Don't let me fall off again.
When I named my blog "Searching for Sanity" people questioned me about it - because on the surface, I am pretty sane. I'm goofy and sometimes a little off center, but overall sane. But sometimes... Well... We all have moments and those moments are precisely why I am still searching for my sanity.
First, let me state that I have done loads of bone headed things, but never anything like this.
I walked in the door after work yesterday and Cameryn was running in circles shrieking in the living room. Chris was standing in the kitchen, shaking his head. My first thought? "Good grief, kid, lay off the sugar!" Followed immediately by, "Why is she always so crazy when her daddy is home?" And yes, I said both out loud. Chris didn't answer, he just shook his head and gave me this s.e.g. (shit-eating-grin) look. The s.e.g. look of "What in the world were in thinking? Have you lost your mind?" I said, "What? What?"
"Laurin," he said, "I went to get Cameryn some milk. I open the fridge and there's no 2% milk for Cameryn. I thought that maybe you threw it away because it had expired, so I grab the skim milk and I go get her a sippy cup out of the cupboard." He opened the cupboard, and there lined up right next to her sippy cups, was the milk.
As I poured it down the sink, I said, "Gosh, you would think that I was pregnant." He shot me another one of those looks. (I'm NOT by the way.)
I laughed.
First, let me state that I have done loads of bone headed things, but never anything like this.
I walked in the door after work yesterday and Cameryn was running in circles shrieking in the living room. Chris was standing in the kitchen, shaking his head. My first thought? "Good grief, kid, lay off the sugar!" Followed immediately by, "Why is she always so crazy when her daddy is home?" And yes, I said both out loud. Chris didn't answer, he just shook his head and gave me this s.e.g. (shit-eating-grin) look. The s.e.g. look of "What in the world were in thinking? Have you lost your mind?" I said, "What? What?"
"Laurin," he said, "I went to get Cameryn some milk. I open the fridge and there's no 2% milk for Cameryn. I thought that maybe you threw it away because it had expired, so I grab the skim milk and I go get her a sippy cup out of the cupboard." He opened the cupboard, and there lined up right next to her sippy cups, was the milk.
As I poured it down the sink, I said, "Gosh, you would think that I was pregnant." He shot me another one of those looks. (I'm NOT by the way.)
I laughed.
Today is Groundhog Day. Phil didn't see his shadow and predicted an early spring. Since I crave sunshine, that's a really good thing. But let's be honest here, the groundhog didn't do anything but come out of his little box and stand there and look cute. Those creepy guys in top hats that would rather have lived in Abe Lincoln's time? Yeah, they decided in advance what would happen and then give credit (or blame!) ole Phil. Personally, I think the tradition is a little odd and I've never really bought into the whole groundhog prediction. If you've ever been to SC you know that February will be cold and then it gets hot in March. So, shadow or no shadow? Spring will be in SC by March. But, I guess for the people in PA who have to dig their way out of snow drifts 6 months out of the year, that little groundhog gives them some hope.
***
I try to keep healthy snacks at my desk at work and I get tired of snacking on the same things all the time. Sometimes the fruit bowl just doesn't look that great, you know? Anyway, someone told me to try Kashi cereal. So I did - it tasted like cardboard and had the same texture and smell as the dry dog food I give to Raider and Porter. I gave that box away pretty quickly! Yesterday I skipped the fruit bowl and the greek yogurt and I found myself standing in the cereal aisle. I put on my big girl panties and decided to try again, and I picked up another box of Kashi. Surprisingly, it's actually pretty yummy. Low sugar, high protein, doesn't taste like cardboard or smell like dog food. These Kashi people could be on to something.
***
I try to keep healthy snacks at my desk at work and I get tired of snacking on the same things all the time. Sometimes the fruit bowl just doesn't look that great, you know? Anyway, someone told me to try Kashi cereal. So I did - it tasted like cardboard and had the same texture and smell as the dry dog food I give to Raider and Porter. I gave that box away pretty quickly! Yesterday I skipped the fruit bowl and the greek yogurt and I found myself standing in the cereal aisle. I put on my big girl panties and decided to try again, and I picked up another box of Kashi. Surprisingly, it's actually pretty yummy. Low sugar, high protein, doesn't taste like cardboard or smell like dog food. These Kashi people could be on to something.
***
3 mile run + sinus pressure (my face hurts, people).... Yes, definitely not my best idea. Last night I felt pretty terrible, but today my face doesn't feel like those green people from the Mucinex commercials have decided to build their own colony in there. So that's a good thing.
***
I have found myself watching the National Geographic channel more and more. Not for the nature stuff, but for Alaska State Troopers! I'm hooked. Some of the villages can only be reached by air and they are only required to have officers 3 days a month... Fascinating.
