Something Wicked this way comes....

I've actually been writing and not posting if you can believe it.

A few weeks ago something really awful happened to me. Something that was purposefully done by someone to me. This person was angry with me and I guess thought this was a way to retaliate. But in coming after me, this person also went after my family. They could have hurt my family very badly. (Bet that got your attention, didn't it?) What happened had no merit to it, and so it has passed. From a bystanders point, it could easily be dismissed because it was so far off base. But in the thick of it, it was awful. It was a really terrible thing to have to go through.

I've been debating about posting about it. I had to write about it while it was happening. The feelings I had were so overwhelming, so all consuming that the only way I could begin to rein them in was to write them down. Writing didn't change the feelings, but it allowed me to look at them more objectively and move on to the next appropriate emotion. And, trust me, there was a process to go through on this one.

And so there are posts that have not been published.

This was such an awful event that that I'm debating if I should post these writings or not. The "incident" is past, but this morning the remnants of it reared it ugly head a bit and made me wonder what I did to deserve all this drama. And, if I post those writings, am I inviting the drama I despise. Probably.

I'm torn, I think that it would be cathartic to a degree. And it's my blog, and I want to write about my life, right now! as it is! I want my girls to have this to look back at & know me as the person I was at this time. To hopefully understand some of the decisions I've made and why. But, I also don't want anymore drama than I've already received. So I'm still debating. Maybe when things have died down a bit more and the wounds are not so fresh. Maybe.

This One at Band Camp....

Mir over at Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda, just wrote a post about her first of many car camping trips. It reminded me of a specific adventure when I was a kid. I figured w/summer looming a camping story was appropriate, so here's the Reader's Digest version:

One time when I was 14 or so, my girl scout troop went to Disneyland & stayed at the campsites there, Vacationland! (You can't make this stuff up.) The "campsite" consisted of a field of grass. Our immediate neighbors where of the "white trash" variety. I know this because "Dad" walked around half the night cussing (loudly, of course) in his cowboy hat, tighty whiteys and (wait for it...) yes, his cowboy boots. Quite an education for us 14YOs. Finally, some poor traveler from the UK couldn't take it anymore & told him to shut up (in a very important sounding English accent). When we laughed loudly from our tents and other camper cheered & applauded, I guess he figured he was outnumbered & drank quietly after that.

Now THAT's a camping w/the public story!

SIX

Really??? SIX??? Already? Dam. It really does go by so fast.
And Big? I love you. More than you can know. You are the child who gave me the gift that is motherhood. You made us a family, so much more than a couple. You are my first and like I always tell you,
"You'll always be my baby."

Happy Birthday Big! I hope is so awesome!

Bathing Suit Season; The Mom Suit

We have been having some very, very nice weather in our parts. Reminding us that summer is (pretty much here) right around the corner. Since we went to the beach last weekend AND it was hot I had to break down & put on THE BATHING SUIT.

I may have mentioned how I've put on a few pounds since my surgery. Like THIRTY!!!! I'm not exactly pleased about this, but I've been trying to tell myself it's going to come off once I get more mobile. As with most things about me, I seem to take 5x as long for everything, so I'm still not very mobile yet. Don't get me wrong, I am getting better, I am doing more, but I'm also still lugging around an additional 30 lbs these days. AND IT SUCKS!!! Now, let me tell you how I really feel about it.

To say I HATE putting on a bathing suit wouldn't begin to describe my feelings on this subject. Being a women who was born & raised in the US, I realize I am not alone in my feelings, and that my weight really doesn't have that much to do with it. It's body image, I get that. I really do. If you look back, you'll realized my most comfortable body is when I'm pregnant & huge. I LOVE the way I look pregnant. But I wrote that post already. I'm trying very hard not to give my daughters' body image issues (at least the ones I have). I prefer to the let the media do my dirty work for me. Seriously, it's why we don't push the food issue w/them, it's why I monitor how much juice, milk & water they get, etc...I want them to be healthy and comfortable in their own skin. As women, we deserve that, and I don't know how to do that for myself, so I'm doing my best to keep my daughters from ever getting there.

And this is where the "mom suit" comes in. I swore I would never wear one, but I do. If you don't know, a mom bathing suit, usually involves a skirted bottom and a full coverage top. It's the bottom that really makes it a mom suit. Land's End has really taken the suit up a notch in the last several years and made it much more main stream. Not sure if that's good or bad, but it does put me here, at 40, wearing a bathing suit I swore I never would. (I wore bikini's when pregnant, I am woman, hear/see me roar/grow!) All I need now is some soccer playing kids, and a minivan. One out of two at least.

I know for most women the mom suit comes into play when you're pregnant. You want something to cover your ever expanding arce (and stomach). And then after you've had the baby, you want something to cover your stretch marks, cellulite and flab. Childbirth is hell, and that's not even the labor part. For me, it actually started much earlier, and for much different reasons; bikini lines. Apparently, I am descended from a long line gorillas or something. Ok, seriously, all women have to shave, down there, if they want to wear a bathing suit. We're all adults here and know that. I have very curly hair, so when my hair grows it grows in a curl, which makes me very, very prone to ingrown hairs. Suffice to say, I don't think the word HATE quite covers how I feel about the shaving thing. About 15 years ago I decided forget it & bought some board shorts to wear over my bathing suit. I wore a bikini top, so it looks "sporty." I keep telling myself that, so work w/me here. It worked pretty well until after I had a baby. Then any muscle tone I had left in my midsection disappeared. Also, I wasn't wearing something that allowed my flab to hang over my bottoms. Your welcome for the visual. So I moved to the mom suit. I did it w/the stipulation that it would be temporary, you know, once I lost the baby weight. But here we are, 6 years later still wearing it.

If you need me I'll be driving my kids to soccer practice, in my minivan while listening to NASCAR and wearing my mom suit.

Threats

Little wouldn't quit w/the disruption on the packing. You know it's all about her, so laundry, cooking dinner, packing bags, not really her thing. I finally told her that if she didn't knock it off she was going to stay home w/Daddy for the weekend and Big & I would go to the beach. That kicked her butt into gear. Finally, something worked.

Then Daddy got home, and she stuck to him like glue. He couldn't get the kid to leave him alone for two seconds. Since he's trying to load the car, she's continually getting stepped on, smashing fingers in the ice chest, you get the idea. Once the car has been opened up she is IN HER SEAT & will NOT get out. I decide maybe she's overtired & hungry, so I warm up diner for the girls so we can finished getting the car loaded up. (Sausage & Quiche, they love these things.)

She counts out loud: "One, two, three" (pops three bites of sausage in her mouth,) "One, two, three" pops three bites of quiche in her mouth, required amounts to have completed dinner in our house) and declares herself done.
I told her that was fine, she didn't have to eat anymore if she really was full, but if she didn't eat all her dinner she couldn't get a jamba juice on the way. (Bribes)

Little: "That's fine. I don't want a Jamba Juice." (hops in open car, starts putting on seatbelt, and will not get out.)

I finally realized that she was sure I was going to leave her home. She figured as long as Daddy kept telling her he was going then she was, but just to make sure she was getting in her seat & NOT getting out.

Guess it's nice to know I have some clout around here after all.

Packing

Got a few little posts to share from this weekend & such. (NO interwebs again at the beach!!! The humanity!!!)

So anywho, on Friday I'm trying to pack and I tell the girls to pick up the playroom. "No one's leaving for the beach until the house is packed & picked up!"
Big is doing her part, she gets that I don't really care how they pick it up, just that I can see the floor when it's done.
Little, on the other hand, is taking toys out when Big puts them away. In fact, she waits till Big has finished putting away, say a 100+ piece puzzle & then dumps out the box. (Lovely child.)
Big is, understandably, kinda flipping out over this.
I call Little into the kitchen and tell her she needs to help PUT AWAY. She tells me, "No." So...

Me: "You need to help our you're going to get a time out & go take a nap in your room."
Little: (hand on hip) "Fine! I'll go to my room!"

And then I died from laughing.

She's THREE (barely) and she calls my bluff every time!

Recession Era Cleaning! And other uplifting stories.

Well based on the title of my last post, this one ought to be entitled something like, "Someone Must Be Crapping Butterflies" No? My point is that it just keeps getting better round here. If you follow my twitter you may have noticed that I am now the "evil mommy." You missed that? Well, let's just say that I'm finding new uses for cleaning products all the time!

Little is still on her rampage and today started in w/the spitting again. To be honest, I don't even remember what her issue was at the time. But by the time she was being punished I was done with her. She spit 2x and got warnings and I was just at the end of my rope. She's THREE! If I can't get control of her now (or let's be honest, I'm trying to teach her to control herself) what the heck will I do when she's 13??? So I grabbed the bottle of hand soap from the kitchen counter & walked into the (time out) dinning room. She was screaming and spitting and just generally being lovely while standing in front of (she wouldn't stay in) the time out chair. So, I stuck the little pump into her mouth & gave it a press and she promptly
FLIPPED. THE. F. OUT.
It got her attention, that's for sure. She then spent some time doing some more spitting; trying to get the soap out her mouth. Yes, I do see the irony of my actions. And I was fearful for a time that she was going to force herself to barf over it. That would've taught me, huh. In the end, I was able to get her to calm down so that I could help her rinse out her mouth w/out making it worse. She didn't like it, so we'll see if it's a deterrent or not in the future. I'm hopeful, but not that optimistic.
All the time this was happening, she was devastated that I did it to her. You could see the look in her eyes. I'm the one who's supposed to love her no matter what awful thing she does or how far she pushes me and I did THIS to her? I know that I'm teaching her boundaries and appropriate responses, etc...and that if I don't, I'm not doing her any favors. I totally get that. But it doesn't make me feel any less guilty about it. I've tried giving her chances to do the right thing, rewarding good behavior and even hugging her to try and help her reset. What I want to do when this stuff is going down is really just hug her super tight and somehow make her understand that I really do love her so very much and to please stop trying to make me prove it to her. I hate this part of parenting. I hate having to punish her. I hate feeling like I'm not giving her sister enough attention (cause she's the "good one") and I hate that she lacks the control to stop herself and I don't seem to know how to help her find it. Sigh

More sunshine and rainbows!

Well 3 has gotten off to an officious start.
Let me start this off by stating that everyone I know w/young kids (3 & under) seems to be having similar experiences. All of our kids seem to have freaked the F out. I don't know if it's the moon phase or air pressure change or what, but in the last week it seems like all of our kids have turned into complete THREE YEAR OLDS (aka-monsters!!!). You know what they say about 3? It's 2 w/a year of experience. (I'll be here all zee week, don't forget to tip your bartenders and waitresses!)

So that being said; Little bit the crap out of me last night. You may remember we had some issues in the past w/the biting. (You know one of the catalysts that got us into a kiddie shrink for a while). But somehow this was worse. Maybe it was because she's bigger (and stronger) or maybe it's because she hasn't really pulled anything like this in quite a while, I really feel like I've failed her. Is that weird? Shouldn't I be pissed at her?

Here's what happened:
We started the day w/her in snitch anyway. My girlfriend w/the twins came over in the AM which was good cause she was just getting into stuff to push my buttons. So our morning was covered. In the afternoon we had gymnastics (also good, blows off lots of steam) and then M and planned to hit the outlet mall which now has a Crocs store. We dropped our car off at our house and in the 5 mins it took to get there Little had fallen asleep. Considering her mood earlier in the day I should've had bells going off and LET HER SLEEP. But it seemed silly to take two cars, so I woke her and we piled into M's van. Once there I realized I had forgotten a stroller (restraint device) of any type and then was reminded the entire time, why I don't shop w/both my kids. OMG! I suppose they weren't any worse than any one else's kids, but kids running around in a store drives me nuts! Just writing about it stresses me out. I can feel my BP rising right now. So anyway we head home after I spent 30 mins yelling at my kids. We get back to our house and Little runs to the grass so she can stand (safely) and wave bye. I tell her to come in and she not only ignores me, but runs down to the side walk & starts running in circles. (Remember what I said about pushing buttons?) I (more sternly) tell her to "get in the house NOW!", which she ignores. So I get her and march her by the arm into the house. Well, this was not the response she was looking for, so she's trying to hit at me & then tries to spit me (lovely new habit, she learned it at school). Now we're in our doorway so I give her smack on the butt (not a hard one, but a smack still) and tell her, "You don't hit or spit at Mommy!" She then turns around to me and screams, "YOU DON'T HIT ME MOMMY!" To which I reply, "You don't talk to Mommy like that! You're getting a time out." She's less than pleased and isn't going to participate if she can help it, so I pick her up to take her to the time out chair. Mind you, my back has been a mess since Sunday, so picking her up is really something I should be avoiding (and this scenario shows a lot of why my back is taking so long to heal.) So I pick her up so that her front is laying across my arm (my hand is holding between her legs and my arm is supporting most of her weight). She retaliates by clamping onto the inside of my arm WITH. HER. TEETH! She didn't get a big chunk either. No, she got like a "pinch" so I couldn't pull her off w/out ripping the skin. Instead I go to hold her like that while yelling at her to let go. When she finally did, well as you might imagine, my arm modeling career is done. I gave her 3 more smacks on the bum (she was unfazed) and put her into the time out chair. She's screaming and generally carrying on (I can only imagine what the neighbors must think.) And, cue Daddy walking in. He took one look at me and said, "What's going on?" I didn't say anything I just gave me a look and then showed him my arm. He was shocked (by now the bite, was red & purple and very swollen). I informed him that I was "done" for the evening, got a pain pill (for my back) and laid down on the couch.

Daddy, the saint that he is, took Little out back. She continued her tantrum for at least another 30 minutes. One part resulted in her spinning herself in circles and carrying on, while sitting on the deck. Her feet were bare, so that resulted in many large splinters. She, of course, wanted Mommy to get them out & make her feel better. Daddy told her, "No way, not till you apologize." This, resulted in more tantrum. Eventually she agreed to apologize & I worked on her foot till I had enough wood to build a small fire. Then we were done with the episode.

Now, while I'm not a proponent of spanking/hitting in general, I do think there are times/situations when it's warranted. In hindsight, I think I might have been better served w/some liquid soap in the mouth, but still the spanking is not what I'm feeling guilty about. No, I'm just sad because I don't know how to help her get past this. I feel like I'm failing her, cause she's only 3 and I should be able to teach her how to funnel these feelings more productively. I guess I'm feeling as frustrated as she does.

Today, after school, she was back to her funny, goofy, sweet self. Of course.

THREE!!!

Yup, that's what said, THREE!!!

Crazy how fast this all goes by. Seriously no more babies in my house. It does make me a little sad, they are growing so fast. I know, it's so cliche, but it's so true. I've written about her actual "birth day" in the past. And I've reflected on the past year. Truth be told, if I reflected on this year, it would not all be positive. And I want her b-day post to be positive, so I'm writing about her party. Somehow I turned this post into a testimonial for Build-a-Bear. But hey, they made my kid's day. Honestly, that's what I'm looking for in a b-day party; a very happy b-day girl.

We celebrated Little's b-day w/a Build-a-Bear party. We decided after my surgery that we would pony up for the girls' b-day this year & not kill ourselves before, during & after. Instead, I just kill myself during, you know, trying to get all my pix. ;-) Let me just say, worth EVERY. DAMN. PENNY! It cost us about the same as having it at home & less than the Pump It Up or Gym parties. I KNOW??? Who knew??? And we went full board ($25 a kid, you can go as low as $10 per kid and you're only required to have 6 kids for it to be a party). Every child left w/a great experience, a new friend and a groovy outfit. My child was THRILLED! The kids at this party ranged in age from 2-6, so a lot like herding cats in my opinion & our group leader was amazing; she could switch gears w/no problem. All the kids had fun, and were involved. My oldest has decided she wants a party there now and pared down her list to a number Mommy could live with. We already scheduled it & sent out the invites.

So everyone had a blast. Momma & Daddy were happy (feel like we got our money's worth & our baby's happy). B-day girl was THRILLED! And all the party goers were happy!
It's a win-win-win (get it 3 wins for a 3YO). Happy B-day Little! I'm so glad you're happy, it's what makes me happy.