NonSoccerMom.com

The daycare called late yesterday afternoon to inform us that Miss T had produced two, erm, Diapers of a Questionable Nature over the course of the day.  Apparently this means that the child gets sent home, do not pass Go, do not collect $200, and definitely do not come back tomorrow.

N and I always try to take turns staying home with the kids when they’re sick, just depending on who has the lighter workload.  Unfortunately, my job is very deadline-intensive and it’s hard for me to get away on short notice so most of the time, N is on deck.  This time, though, it worked out for me to take a turn.

And so far it seems like a pretty good deal – Miss T clearly does not feel bad at all.  We’ve been playing and watching Chicken Run (if you haven’t seen it you really should.  It’s hilarious, and not as much of a kid movie as you would assume), and cleaning up the kitchen.  Miss T LOVES to “help” me clean, so I give her a damp rag and let her go to town on the table/chairs/floor/whatever.  So we’ve scrubbed down her booster seat plus the floor where she spilled milk and cereal at breakfast, and she also helped me start a load of laundry.

It’s not often that I get an uneventful day like this, to just decompress at home with one of the kids.  I’ll have a few days with AE next week while he’s on spring break, but he largely ignores me to play video games.  (In case you’re wondering what Miss T is currently doing, she’s ignoring me – playing with the magnets on the fridge and singing a song that I can’t quite identify.  Oh wait.  Now she’s moved on and is jumping on the couch screaming “It’s a tamp-o-een!!”)

Do I have a point?  Probably not really.  Maybe I had one in mind when I started but this coffee isn’t very strong and I’ve only had two cups so far.  So here you go.  I’ll leave you with a few pictures of my “sick” toddler and maybe you won’t notice that I’ve done nothing but ramble.

Back when I actually had time to go to the movies, I used to love the Oscars.  I’d be all excited about it for the entire week before, and would be glued to the TV from the red carpet pre-show all the way until they announced Best Picture.

Today, though, I find that I simply do not give a rat’s ass.  Not one measly rat, or his tiny little ass.  Would you like to know the last movie I saw in the theater?  Why, I’ll tell you.  It was Star Trek.  Seriously.  And not only am I not interested in the Oscars (I don’t even know who’s hosting this year), but I was actively pissed off at the gym earlier, when the pre-show was playing at volume eleventy-billion and twelve and I didn’t have the option not to hear it.  (Side note:  when I can clearly hear the TV over Rob Zombie playing millimeters from my eardrums, the TV is TOO LOUD.)

So.  What would be the point of me watching the Oscars?  I have seen exactly zero of the movies that they’re all geeked up about.  I never made it to Avatar, I barely know the basic premise of The Hurt Locker.  Not a consistent Tarantino fan, so I’m not interested in Inglourious Basterds.  I haven’t even watched Up, and we own the DVD.

Because I Do. Not. Care.  I’ve never really cared about the fashion aspect of it.  I mean, yeah, some of the dresses are wild and others are gorgeous and the stars all look fantastic but what purpose does this serve to me?  None, really, except to remind me that  a) I will never be a movie star and b) I will never be that rich.  I’ll catch up with the style in the post-Oscars issue of People magazine.

So when you knock that aspect out, what’s left?  Oh yeah, the movies.

I’m not sure when I stopped caring so much about movies in general.  I used to work at a movie theater, for crying out loud!  I saw pretty much every movie that was released during that time, often before the opening date!  I can sing the closing music for any move released in the late 1990s!  I have an entire category of this blog devoted to movie reviews!

I think that these days I’m just a lot less willing to get out of my Movie Genre Comfort Zone.  My down time is limited, so I’m not really willing to potentially waste it, you know?  Why would I want to devote 3+ hours of my life for Avatar (which, admittedly, I would probably love), when I could be using that time for other things?  Like sleeping?  Or drinking wine?  Or Netflixing movies that I know I’ll enjoy, like Wolverine?  Or, um, Resident Evil.  ANYWAY.  I do have a point (sort of) and here it is:

I’m old and crabby.  And clearly, I’m wholly intolerant of your Oscar-worthy film making.  Now get the hell off my lawn.

Last night, shortly before bath time, Miss T decided she wanted some candy.

Miss T:  I wan sum candy.

Me:  No ma’am.  You’ve already had candy today.

Miss T:  I wan sum candy.

Me:  I said no.  You had a lollipop earlier, remember?

Miss T:  [climbing into dining room chair]  I wan sum candy.

Me:  Nope.  No candy.  [walking away]

Miss T:  [loudly]  I wan sum candy!  I WAN SUM CANDY.

Me:  [ignoring plaintive candy-related yelling as I put away laundry]

Miss T:  I. WAN. SUM. CANDY.  I WAN SUM CANDY!!

Me:  [returning to kitchen]  I said no more candy.  Say it again, and you’ll sit in time out.

Miss T:  [angry stare]

Me:  [angry stare]

N:  [trying not to laugh]

Miss T: [folding arms across chest, whispering pointedly]  I wan sum candy.

Does that make me self-centered?  I totally love answering memes and quizzes and basically getting the opportunity to talk about myself.  Oh well.  I’m always looking for a quick and fun post idea, so many thanks to my friend Allison for posting this over on her blog!  (And I’m late to the party, OF COURSE.  Eh. I’m still totally stealing it, because I want to, plus I am a copycat and a blogging sheep.  So thanks, Allison!)  Here we go!

1. How old do you look?

I am actually a little afraid to answer this.  I don’t think I look my age (which is less than three weeks from 31), but I would be so totally horrified if I underestimated how old other people think I look.  But truly, I’m thinking maybe 28?  29?  Hopefully?

2. Where do you live?

Central Texas, kind of between Houston, Austin and Dallas.  It’s a nice spot, an easy day trip to almost all of those cities.

3. Are you waiting for something?

I don’t feel that way as much as I used to.  I used to ALWAYS feel like I was waiting on the Next Big Thing.  Not that I wasn’t happy, but I think I’ve mellowed a bit with age and am far more willing to go with the flow.

4. What’s one pet peeve of yours that is not common?

Hee, do I ever have a lot of pet peeves.  I’m not sure that any of them are terribly uncommon, but I am exceedingly anal about certain aspects of housekeeping (crumbs on the kitchen counter, vacuuming the carpet).  I’m also very bothered by people who wear overly casual (and often, UGLY) clothes to work in a business casual office.

5. Do you want/have kids?

I do have kids.  A seven-year-old boy and a two-year-old girl.  I always wanted a boy and a girl, in that order, so I guess you could say my family’s just the way I always imagined it.

6. Have you ever thought about converting your religion?

Yeah.  I was raised Southern Baptist, but have serious issues with a lot of the teachings and theology.  My husband is Catholic, and at one point we had discussed my conversion.  However, it turns out that I’m really not very religious.  I believe in God, and consider myself a Christian, but unfortunately that’s about as far as it goes.  It’s something that bothers me about myself, especially in terms of raising my kids.

7. Last shocking news you heard?

A coworker of my husband (who I’ve interacted with socially) recently lost her husband in a car accident.

8. What was the last thing you drank?

I’m drinking a glass of wine right now.

9. Who do you most look like in your family?

Oh, but I am a carbon copy of my mother.  There’s no denying what I’ll look like in 30 years.  Her high school classmates, people I had never previously met, have seen me out in public - by myself - and correctly identified me as being her daughter.

10. If you could have something right now, anything, what would it be?

Limitless cash flow.  And a Porsche.

11. Where does most of your family live?

Texas.

12. Where did you grow up?

South of Houston, Texas, about fifteen minutes from the beach.  Same place as Allison, my husband, Valerie, Carol, and Kristine.

13. Where do you want to go on vacation?

I would love to go to Greece or on a Mediterranean cruise, but my Vacation Wish List is longer than my arm.  I adore traveling.

14. Have you ever had a panic attack?

Yep.  I have a mini-panic attack any time I’m up high and don’t feel secure.  Like when I’m on ski lifts, ferris wheels, and the now-demolished Astroneedle.

15. What can’t you wait for?

I am super-excited about starting graduate school in the fall.  Terrified, but thrilled.

16. Have you ever smoked?

I’ve tried it a few times and lo, it is disgusting.

17. Want someone back in your life?

I had a good friend, a coworker from the credit union I worked at in Colorado.  We lost touch when we moved back to Texas several years ago, and she never seemed interested in maintaining the friendship.  It still makes me sad.

18. What do you order at the bar?

Depends on how I’m feeling.  Usually I order a nice Chardonnay.

19. When was the last time you cried really, really hard?

You know, I don’t remember.  I usually cry at least once a month.  I’ll let you figure out why that might be.

20. Ever licked someone’s cheek?

Yes.  It pisses off my husband.

21. What is your favorite thing to eat with peanut butter?

I like peanut butter on waffles, particularly blueberry ones.  I also like PB on apples and celery.

22. Where were you on July 4th, 2008?

Umm.  Hmmm.  I’m not sure.  At home, probably.  Clearly it was a night to remember.

23. What are your nicknames?

I have a nickname from high school, which is a bastardization of my first name.  But since I blog (semi)anonymously, I don’t really want to reveal that here.  Suffice it to say, it was rampant enough that almost everyone I knew called me that from time to time.

24. If you could go back in time, how far back would you go?

Goodness.  You know, I’ve always thought that I would want to go back in time and make a few changes but I’ve seen enough sci-fi to know that you don’t mess with the timeline, yo.  I would like to go back to our wedding, just as an observer.  I’m told it was a kick-ass party.

25. What is something you are passionate about?

I tend to get my panties in a twist regarding the old stay-at-home vs. working mom debate.  I work full-time and I’m proud of it.  I have a good job that I enjoy (most days) and I want to work outside the home.  In my opinion, not everyone is cut out to be a stay-at-home mom, and my children would NOT benefit from dealing with me all day, every day.  I get very offended at the implication that I’m not taking an active role in raising my children because they’ve both been in daycare full-time (AE since he was 11 months old, and Miss T from 10 weeks).  They’re my kids and the fact that I’m a working mother will never change that.  SO THERE.  (GAH.  See?  Touchy!)

We’ve reached the point with AE where parenting is far less of a physical challenge, but more of a mental one.  And unfortunately, I think this is also the part where you can scar your kid for life.  Twenty years from now, Miss T isn’t likely to recall that I let her cry in her crib at bedtime for five extra minutes one night, but AE is seven years old.

He’ll remember.

He is old enough to have his feelings hurt when I yell for no good reason.  He is old enough to be disappointed if I can’t make it to his school program.  He is old enough to be embarrassed, but conversely, he’s certainly old enough to understand when he’s embarrassing his parents.

Kids embarrass their parents.  It’s just the way things are.  As an adult, I cringe when I recall a few specific incidents where my poor mother must have wanted the ground to swallow her whole.  As a kid, they were no big deal but to a parent they would be utterly mortifying.

AE has always been sensitive, for lack of a better all-encompassing term.  He’s cautious and careful and easily bothered by stuff that wouldn’t phase other kids.  It’s not really a problem.  Over the years we’ve learned to take it into account, usually by giving him extra time to acclimate.  And it’s lessening with age anyway – the older he gets, the more willing he is to try new things.  He’ll never be his sister, plunging headlong into every situation without a second thought – but let’s face it.  Using a little caution, taking that one extra minute to consider your next move, can be a really smart thing.

That being said, his tendency towards weepiness IS becoming an issue.  At almost 7.5 years of age, one of the oldest kids in his first grade class, AE’s knee-jerk reaction is to burst into tears whenever he’s upset.  And I’m not talking major upset either, like breaking a bone or losing a pet or failing an important test.  I’m talking about bursting into tears when I dare to suggest that maybe he might take a bit more time drying off after the bath because he’s still dripping wet.  I’m talking about crying when he can’t figure out how to advance to the next level in Indiana Jones Lego or because his sister took the last juice box.

In my opinion, he’s way too old to react like that.  Quite frankly, it can be really embarrassing.  There.  I said it.  It’s embarrassing to be the parent of the kid who bursts into uncontrollable, hysterical tears when he gets tapped by a rogue basketball during practice.  Struck so lightly as to not even leave a red mark.  (And as someone with an extremely high pain tolerance of their own, it’s doubly mortifying.)

But I’ve never parented a seven-year-old boy before.  Maybe this is normal.  Either way, I don’t know how to deal with it.

I still remember the name of the kid from my school who cried about everything.  GOD.  That kid cried about EVERYTHING.  And this was junior high!  Seventh, eighth grade!  He’d burst into tears if you looked at him funny.  Jesus H.  It was ridiculous.  We’re not at that point yet, but I don’t ever want to be, you know?  I don’t want MY kid to be the kid that his classmates think of twenty years down the line, when they’re dealing with similar issues with THEIR kids.  I don’t want them going, there was a kid in my elementary school, AE, who used to cry about everything and we used to make SO MUCH FUN of him.  Do you want to be like that kid?

Children are mean.  Everyone knows that.  I remember how cruel I was and it breaks my heart to think of other kids treating MY precious baby that way.  I’ll love him either way (OBV) but for his sake, I don’t want him to be That Kid.  And really, I don’t think he will be.  He seems well liked, his classmates go out of their way to tell him goodbye when we pick him up, he gets invited to parties.  He seems socially adjusted.  It could be that this is his crazy mother projecting ridiculous, unwarranted childhood fears onto her own offspring.

But still.  The crying.  How do we make it stop?  How do we explain that it isn’t acceptable to cry over a video game, but there are plenty of circumstances (i.e. death, serious injury, zombie attack) where it IS okay to cry?  Where’s that line?

GAH, parenting.  Sometimes it sucks balls.