Obviously I didn’t willingly sit back and let things happen, but not being able to talk my way out of my speeding ticket or express my EXTREME displeasure at yet another extension for the kicked-out kid at daycare turned out to be a fine way of being forced to learn something.  My tendency to obsess over and constantly talk about whatever happened to me really just prolongs the agony and annoyance.  It’s now been over a week since I lost my voice and I still can’t talk normally.  Trying to “save” the voice I have left forces me to choose my words carefully, to be discretionary when yelling at the kids, and to think about whether some things really need to be said at all.

With that in mind, the 24-hour change in Alex is remarkable now that this other child is no longer at daycare.  A bully since he was old enough to walk, this boy kept the other kids constantly on the lookout for sneaky pushes and pokes, and delivered Emily Kate’s first and only smack to the face when she was only 10 months old.  When he wasn’t picking at the other kids, he was screaming his head off about something or other, refusing to follow directions and loudly expressing displeasure over everything he was asked to do.  I know this not only from observation, but because my kids started to bring it home over the last few months, reacting as if I’d told them I was going to chop off a toe when I would offer a snack they didn’t like.

I realized last night how much the situation was wearing on me, on all of us, when I thought back to those mornings when I couldn’t wait to get back to my car and away from this child.  Just 10 minutes with him was a horrible way to start my morning, and here I was dropping off my kids to spend the next 8 hours with him.  Then they would come home defensive and cranky and I would wonder why, and even worse get mad at them for behavior that was pretty much inevitable given what they were exposed to all day. 

Last night and this morning, Alex in particular was a different child – sweet, helpful, polite, playful.  It’s as if he understands that the situation is finally remedied and he doesn’t have to be defensive anymore.  He nicely told me he didn’t like his dinner and wasn’t going to eat it, rather than whining and getting angry.  He gave happy hugs goodbye this morning and at lunch Miss S texted me to tell me what a great day he was having, participating in lessons and songs when often he is withdrawn and quiet.

I feel so incredibly lucky today that a situation I had a hand in causing (by referring the parents there in the first place) is finally done.  I’m not living in a dream world, I know my kids will still act out and act up and argue, and that’s fine.  Because rather than coming from a place of defensiveness, it’s learning and exploring who they are within boundaries set by discipline and rules that will eventually make them productive members of our family and society.

(The speeding ticket parallel is not lost on me with that last statement by the way.  But I would still like to point out that everyone around me was going as fast or faster, and the radar was definitely faulty, and I couldn’t see the sign because trees were in the way.  Ahem. )

Today I picked Em up from daycare at lunch, skivving off work for most of the afternoon for an early dive into fun. Which means she took a three hour nap, while I puttered around fretting about various work and life-related things, getting it out of my system like I do every Friday. When she woke up we went to early dinner, then to Rita’s for Italian Ice where we ran into some old friends, then came back home just in time for a bath and bed.

As I look ahead to the weekend, most of it is centered around eating and sleeping, which is totally how it should be. I’m debating taking a boot camp class on Sunday morning, debating partly because I’m a little scared of the guy that teaches it but also because I’m a lot scared of the diseased hellions running around the gym daycare. We’ll have to see about that one. Maybe we could go for pancakes instead.

In other great news, the child at daycare that was the cause of so many angst-y posts in the past year has been given the boot. Hooray! Next week is his last week. There are some mornings when I drop off the kids that this other child is yelling and behaving so badly that I can’t stand to be around him for 10 minutes, so I don’t know how this has lasted as long as it did. I’m just thankful that he’ll soon be somewhere else.

Time for me to go watch my new obsession…Cake Boss.  Happy weekend!

What I can remember is that for the second week this month, (I mean last month) I spent the better part of a week in bed, sicker than I’ve ever been. Well except for two weeks ago when I had the worst stomach flu I’ve ever had.  This time I had the worst sinus infection I’ve ever had, with so much pressure in my face I’m surprised it didn’t puff up like a blowfish before exploding.  I finally gave in to the headaches and succumbed to fever on Sunday, when I decided I was still going to be stubborn and refuse to go to the doctor until Monday since I knew I’d just get antibiotics except on Sunday they would cost me $60 more because I’d have to co-pay at a clinic instead of my doc.

Today was the first day I’ve felt less like death and well enough to discover I’ve apparently developed some sort of weird intolerance for amox!cillian since I had it the last time.  I had to actually get dressed and go to the office to give a brief, and lo and behold on the way there discovered that not only am I dizzy and spacy but that I ITCH.  EVERYWHERE.  And am also having inappropriate emotional responses…like crying because Trader Joe’s carries all natural jelly beans.  I’m sucking it up for now because I’m guessing another antibiotic won’t be any better and I’m almost half done anyway.  And the brief?  Let’s just say not the best one I’ve ever given.  Mainly because I made the poor decision while I was still spaced out to not bring any water in with me and my mouth got so dry I might as well have stuffed a slice of bread in there.

Last night, Brett and I were snorting our way through Modern Family when Alex started crying a weird, sad little cry that warranted immediate response, as this was no Mommy-I-dropped-my-book kind of cry.  I came upstairs after first responder Brett ominously yelled down the stairs, “Honey, you better come up here!” to find Alex sitting up in bed with a sleep sack hanging off his face and immediately fell down laughing. That was before I realized that he hadn’t gotten his lip stuck in the zipper, but that he’d actually gotten the zipper pull stuck between his teeth.

I sent Brett downstairs for bolt cutters and he, wisely, came back with a flashlight.  Strapping on his engineering boots, he calculated the precise angle and insertion point and was able to maneuver it back out with a minimum of pain.  As opposed to my method which was to give a little tug and be moderately surprised when it didn’t pop loose.  After administering some cold water and a gentle admonishment not to chew on zippers anymore, we snuck back downstairs and proceeded to laugh ourselves silly for about ten more minutes.

In other Alex news, he ate a cheeseburger for dinner tonight.  This HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE, as indicated by the all-caps-headline-nature of the post title.  He also cleaned his plate of sweet potato fries, oranges, asked for yogurt and a cheese stick; and also a cookie.    Yay for all the comments telling me kids go through eating phases!  And also, umm…yay growth spurt?  Here I was thinking that last year’s shorts might actually work for another season instead of looking like Daisy Dukes.

Mother Nature has forced me to take a day tomorrow because because the military base where I work is flooded and closed.  The irony of working feverishly on a continuity of operations and disaster recovery plan from home because the base infrastructure is flooded is not lost on me.

Today I picked up the kids a few hours early and we came home and napped and snuggled and watched Madagascar, and it was warm and relaxing and cuddly just like this kind of day should be.  We danced to the “Move It” song at the end and laughed hysterically.  I made homemade mac n’ cheese for dinner and it was delicious.

At bathtime I noticed the wind picking up and turned on the news to find it wasn’t my imagination – we were filelding 70 mile/hour gusts.  Because we have an older house with lots of old, gigantic trees the kids are camping in the downstairs playroom tonight so that I’ll actually be able to sleep instead of jolting awake with every gust.

Tomorrow I think we’ll do lots of home-y things like bake cookies and have pancakes for breakfast and get messy painting.

This, right here, is the sweet spot – where the free pass from work and school is festive and fun.  The sweet spot is just down the road from edgy boredom and an ache to return to normalcy, the routine and the structure. 

But for now we enjoy it.  Sweet.

Today I would like to re-affirm my belief that there is very little useful information on television and state that parents who take their kids to Chuck E Cheese are morons. 

Maybe I should have been paying better attention, because now that my kids have been EXPOSED to H one n1, I cannot find answers to any of the questions that are racing through my brain.

For example, can I take a blunt object to parents who send thier kids to daycare sick?  (Recall my trauma from the summer also known as the BIGGEST MISTAKE I’VE MADE SO FAR…and yeah.  It’s them.  Of course it’s them, who else would it be?)

And once we’re exposed, is there like, a morning after pill or something that we can use to head it off?  And if not, why the hell not?

Why can’t my kid get tested for it before a fever develops?  Wouldn’t it be better to start treating it early, instead of sitting around waiting for him to get sicker and sicer then turn blue?

Why do we have to have the flu 4 days before Alex’s birthday, when not only did we score much coveted tickets to see the Imagination Movers live in concert which were NOT CHEAP, but we have grandparents visiting and plans to go to the pumpkin farm and bake a fancy cake all of which will not be the same if we have to do it another weekend?

Dang it, Doctor Lady on the Today show who’s name I can’t ever remember – DON’T TELL ME TO WASH MY FREAKING HANDS - IT’S TOO LATE FOR THAT!

Emily Kate and I so far are doing just fine.  I think because she had a flu version at the end of August, and I had the same miserable-ness Labor Day weekend.  If that was it, it sucked.  And if it wasn’t it, well then that is really unfair.  Poor Alex though, is just…gooey.  Drippy sneezes, icky coughs, stuffy nose…

But seriously, time is a wastin’ here – it is 48 hours to the Movers concert, 62 hours to grandparent arrival and 3 days to birthday.  Not to mention that work is so busy right now that I’m close to panic attack mode most days and CANNOT FATHOM how I will take off the time required to nurse a sick kid back to health, which is leading to all kinds of fun fights with Brett over whose job is more important.

When I picked up Emily Kate today I was discussing with Miss S how kids who go to a small daycare with only 3 other kids get exposed to this flu and the conversation went something like this:

me: I wonder where he would have picked it up?  I can see if he was at regular school or daycare at the gym or something but…

her: I think they take him to…whispers… Chuck E Cheese (shudders)!

me: Wow they are even bigger morons than I thought.

So yeah.  We’re sitting around.  Waiting.

I spent the summer reading parenting books and researching chemical sensitivities and food allergies – anything to find an explanation for behavior that I was sure couldn’t possibly be normal, because otherwise no one in their right mind would voluntarily sign up for this.  I cut out any food with artificial colors or flavors, started buying more organic, and behavior-wise tried following the “1-2-3 Magic” method. 

After a rough couple weeks, in which the response to everything I said was, “No, YOU say please” or No YOU stop banging” or No Don’t WANNA go live with gypsies!” Alex has come out nicely on the other side and has reached new heights of big kid-dom.  Yesterday for the first time ever, he tried a kiwi and lo and behold decided it was the best thing he’d ever tasted and proceeded to eat three of them.  Since it was green and that makes it one step away from a vegetable I kept peeling and slicing until all the kiwi was gone.

There hasn’t been one big thing, but it feels 180 degrees away from where we were a month ago, when everything led to a meltdown, when I tread lightly because just saying “no” to watching a TV program could lead to a 45-minute screamfest complete with tears and hysterics, until he would finally collapse exhausted on the floor. 

His language has always been a little behind other kids his age, and when we had him evaluated they didn’t think it was that he couldn’t talk, he just wasn’t inclined to do so.  Now for the first time, he’s starting to use complete sentences and verbalize original thoughts, instead of parrotting back whatever we tell him.  He has a shyness that I recognize, because that was and still is sometimes me…it’s a shyness that comes off as cold or disinterested but isn’t really, it’s just a way of handling a crowd of unknown people or an uncertainty about how to react in certain situations.

In fact, the very things that frustrate me about Alex are usually the same traits I share.  He will do a time-out for 45 minutes because he refuses to apologize.  He will do something specifically because he is told not to, he panics at any daycare other than his regular daily place, he will hang back rather than join the other kids at gym class.  He gets irrationally pissed off when his daily routine is disrupted – one day a few months ago, he refused to eat his lunch because Miss S forgot to ask him to get out cups for the other kids, which he does every day without fail.

In many ways he is the sweetest, most helpful child – eager to please, hopeful, and funny – quieter than his sister. but more observant.  I constantly wonder if I’m being too hard on him, or if I’m fairly dividing my time and attention between the two of them.  Usually Alex answers for me – if my attention is too long on Emily Kate I’ll hear him say, “Hi Mommy!” which is a sure sign he’s doing something he shouldn’t be, like standing on a chair or playing with my work laptop or trying to pour his own glass of juice.

He is just a few weeks shy of three.  Amazing.

From 2009_09_13

From 2009_09_13

You have friends that you will drop because of the way they parent.

At first it’s sub-concious, maybe you aren’t even sure why you turn down invites to get together.  Or why you dread spending time with them, with or without thier kids.  Then you slowly start to realize it’s because you do one thing, and they do another.  It makes no sense whatsoever to me to observe someone yell at a child for hitting, then spank them as punishment.  I cannot comprehend a parent who has a child that continues misbehaving but will not remove them from the situation, thus making everyone else miserable.  Nor can I understand someone who is off work for the summer leaving a child in daycare all day every day.  Those people are the ones you slowly lose touch with because it becomes more of an effort than a joy to spend time with them and understand their motives.

Back before I knew this, a couple we knew asked us for a daycare recommendation.  We weren’t good friends but didn’t have any issues with them per se, and we were thrilled to share what a great person we had found.

If there is one thing in the past three years I could take back, it would be sharing the name of our daycare provider.  Because for the last 15 months, that couple’s baby (who is now two) has bullied, smacked, bit, disrupted, and generally harrassed and hassled my kids and the other kids in daycare.  He tackles them, pinches, does things specifically to make other kids cry.  Which should be no surprise because he’s exactly like his dad, who reminds me of a 30-year old frat boy.

This morning that kid smacked Emily Kate, who was just sitting there smiling at him like she smiles at everyone and I have not stopped crying since.  The look on her face has haunted me all day, her innocent belief that everyone she meets will smile at her and love her was destroyed.  Something we all need to learn eventually, but not before our first goddamn birthday.

I knew it was coming.  Why should she be any different?  Every kid there has been bitten or hit at least once and now I have a choice.  Do I provide an ultimatum – my kids or this one?  Do I let it go and trust that the situation will right itself despite all evidence to the contrary?   Should I be more direct in my displeasure at the situation?  Because despite the fact that it’s a business – this woman has cared for my children for nearly three years.  I’ve asked her to love them and care for them while I work and she has and I know she wants to do the right thing.  She feels sorry for this little boy because he isn’t getting the discipline and loving attention he should be at home.  I constantly wonder if Alex acting out is a direct result of what he’s seeing – that the way to get attention is to misbehave.

Everything I wanted in a daycare – a family home, educational curriculum, loving provider, small group – all those things are still there.  Just less so, because so much time and energy is spent on corralling ONE CHILD.  And the fact that his mother is home for the summer yet still leaves him every day for longer than my kids are there makes me sick. 

I wonder what his mom would say if I confronted her and asked her what the hell she is doing.  Because it’s easy to tell yourself that you want your child to keep to a routine, and that it’s better for them to be around other kids.  You can say it out loud and people will nod and agree, but what if just once, someone didn’t nod and agree with you?  What if someone called bullshit and made you face the fact that you just don’t want to deal with the monster you’ve created? 

Judgemental?  Hell yes.  Do I know the entire story?  Probably not.  You never really can, and you have to call what you see and what I see is my kids being exposed to things that I don’t want them to be exposed to yet and an eviction process that is taking entirely TOO LONG.  For pete’s sake telling a parent they need to find another method of care for their child doesn’t need to be like firing a government employee.

Just when I thought I’d gotten past my working mother guilt, I’m reminded that the choices I’ve made in one area take things out of my hands in another.  And for the millionth time I question and revisit and beat myself up over those choices.  All because I gave a referral.

YAY! – Emily Kate is officially crawling.  And pulling up, grabbing things, chattering, and cruising.  Most of the time I set her down and the next thing I see is her round little backside rapidly moving toward whatever inappropriate object has been inadvertenly left on the floor.  She got lots of practice this weekend due to my inability to move a single finger to chase her when…

BOO! – Saturday I woke up a little queasy but still functioning.  We did normal Saturday things, then Alex woke up from his nap a little cranky and listless.  A short 30 minutes after Brett left for what was sure to be a late night playing poker and roughly THREE long hours until bedtime, Alex wailed then barfed chunks of cheese, Craisins, and free samples from Costco all over the playroom rug.  Cheese-puke is the smelliest, worst puke to clean up – exacerbated by the fact that my stomach was queasy in the first place and that Emily Kate’s new found crawling skills found her scooting toward it and I came back from getting the steam cleaner out to find her mere INCHES away.  And also to find Alex giggling hilariously running around the playroom spraying Resolve into the air, what would prove a short lived intermission between clinging to me and puking over and over until beyond bedtime at which point the queasiness I’d been feeling caught up with me and…

Finding-the-Silver-Lining-YAY! – I haven’t been able to keep food down since Saturday evening and I got to spend the whole day Sunday in bed.  And I felt not a twinge of guilt, due to above mentioned poker tournament.  To use my favorite line from “The Devil Wears Prada” I’m ‘one stomach flu away from my goal weight’ and I better lose at least five SEVEN pounds from this misery. 

More BOO! – To make it worse, as of Monday my stupid job relocated to a different FARTHER AWAY city making my commute unfriendly traffic wise, and unpredictable which I do not handle well (I see Zoloft in my future).  So as not to incur comments about being too much of a princess to move boxes and load trucks on Monday I couldn’t even call in sick.  So I dragged myself into work, probably spreading disease along with my discontent.  I felt better by Monday night so I…

Just-Plain-Effing-DUMB - ate some chili.  It was very mild, but also a VERY BAD IDEA.  Like, THE WORST IDEA EVER.  After 2 hours sleep and taking some two-years-past-expiration-Immodium I dragged my ass into work today because a) any germs I was going to spread would have been spread yesterday and b) I was so not wasting a precious vacation day with SPRING! coming on being sick.

RECAP – Alex is better, I’m still sick but skinnier, playroom rug is sticky/stinky, EK is mobile, and I would be making fun of Brett for the cold he has that is so getting trumped by all of this, except he has been very understanding about my combination sick/traffic induced crankiness.

Did you hear that self?  Just get ready for bed, NOT take a quick peek at email on the way to the bathroom and wind up with your eyes crossed an hour later after an exhausting and tense search for a double jogging stroller that costs less than our monthly mortgage.

I have no idea why these things are so dang expensive, but holy cripes who spends $700 on a stroller? 

It should be noted that right now I’m saying $700, but a few hours ago I was saying, “Holy cripes!  Who spends $400 on a stroller?”

This has been kind of like wedding dress shopping for me.  Once you get over the initial sticker shock, you realize that anything LESS than EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT just will not do, causing your price tolerance to creep up and up.  Even though yesterday I had no idea what I wanted, just a vague notion that a double jogging stroller would solve all my problems.

So as you shop around and read reviews, while looking at all the pretty colors your brain starts to think, “Well, maybe $400 isn’t that bad, after all how long will we use this?  Years probably!  Right?  Right!  Oooh but look, for just $449 it comes in black and silver!  It will totally be important to have a color that I love if I’m going to spend that much anyway.”

Then comes the question of features.  Swivel wheel?  Locked wheel?  Hand brake?  Reclining seat?  Snack cup?  Sun shade?

I think a reality check may be in order.  My current single jogger was bought off eBay for $50 before Alex was even born.  The woman I bought it from was pregnant with twins and was seriously the LARGEST PREGNANT PERSON I HAD EVER SEEN.  Looking at her scared the bejeezus out of me, and I was kind of afraid to ask her to demonstrate the features for fear that her water might just break all over the stroller and my shoe.  So we loaded it into the car without collapsing it because we couldn’t figure out how and didn’t want to look like idiots sitting in her driveway messing with it.  (The irony is not lost on me, I promise.)

Knowing what I know now, that stroller is kind of a piece of shit, albeit one that only cost $50.  I finally figured out how to collapse it about a year later, and now while researching double joggers I’m finding that the wheels on most of these pop off so you can actually put the freaking thing in the back of your car and still manage to close the tailgate.  Brilliant! 

Ahem. 

I cannot stress how floored I am at the fact that the wheels probably pop off my other stroller but I wouldn’t have the faintest idea of how to make that happen.

As I read reviews of these things, it seems that only the strollers that cost more than $400 have 4 or 5 stars across the board.  I am convinced that this is because if you spend that much damn money on a jogging stroller, you will swear up, down, and under duress that it is the best purchase you ever made no matter what, because to do otherwise is to admit you rolled up a few hundred dollar bills and smoked them.

If the wheels fall off while you’re jogging, that is a FEATURE.

If you have to spend an additional hundred bucks to get a stupid cupholder for your handle bar, you will convince yourself that is because the manufacturer poured money into fine, fine ENGINEERING and didn’t waste time or brain cells on trivialities.

And of course you need a 5-year warranty because surely your 7-year-old will still want to ride in a stroller next to your 5-year-old and if something breaks when he slams his teenage sized foot against the footrest, well by golly YOU ARE COVERED.

Intellectually, I understand this and would really like to stop the flow of insanity that is currently coursing through my brain.

Emotionally, I heart the bad ass black-on-black Baby Jogger City Elite for a perfectly reasonable $529.    I have no shame.

It was less than two years since we ended things the first time
Day and night pulling and tugging
I was so glad the day you went away
And then too soon you were back
I couldn’t go anywhere without you
I needed you but oh, how I hated you
Pain and relief all at once
Breaking up is hard:  except when its not

This is it.

The end.

I do appreciate you.

But I won’t miss you.

PS: what did you think i was talking about?

PPS: any ideas for what to do with a newly retired milking machine?