It felt like a long time coming, but I finally had my spring vacation last week. While I was not super excited to get back to work today, I did feel more relaxed and less snappish. (Truth be told, it is motivating to know I have three minimum days next week because of STAR testing.)
Last week included some highly diverse activities. Some slightly unnerving. Some tiring. All highly enjoyable.
Vacation, Part I
After a SUPER relaxing start to my weekend, which included a long nap and dinner out with my family, Em and I headed to Redding for our "just girls" portion of the week. My sister-in-law just had my nephew, so we headed up to lend a hand and give my 2 year old niece a much needed companion.
At first it felt a little odd to be in Redding without my husband. My niece had a bad cold and really only had eyes for her mom. I felt that I wasn't going to be a ton of help.
Monday rolled around and I gained a little confidence. I took both girls to the park, and they did great. I ran them ragged by chasing them through the park in a large loop. (By the way, running around a park for 45 minutes with two toddlers is fantastic exercise.)
We got back to the house, and I shocked the heck out of myself. While my sister-in-law went to a doctor's appointment, I watched all three kids. Now, yes it was naptime, but this is an accomplishment for me. The only toddler I've ever really been responsible for is my own daughter. I handle teenagers great, but little ones give me pause. (Turns out they are more similiar than one would like to know.)
Tuesday included a new first. All three kids and Summer and I piled into the car for story time at the library. Things went smoothly, but both us moms were pretty excited when nap time rolled around.
The rest of the visit went smoothly, but everyone seemed a bit frayed (girls included) by the end of the week. My in-laws all caught Elizabeth's cold, and everyone was dragging by Thursday. It was a great time, but Em was thrilled to be heading back home to see Daddy.
Vacation, Part 2
Unfortunately, Em only got a couple hours with Justin before he had to head to class. She and I tried to find an Easter dress that she wouldn't totally reject (we were only somewhat successful.)
Later, after a much-needed break watching Cars, my dad came over with his girlfriend to pick up Em for the weekend. I knew everything would be great, but it was sad to send her off. However, Justin and I had plenty to do to get ready for Vegas.
The next morning, I actually woke up and did my make up and blow dried my hair. This is huge for me. I typically spend no more than 10 minutes getting ready, shower included.
Justin and I headed to Vegas, enjoyed an uneventful flight together, and actually engaged in adult conversation (keep it clean, people; it was about teaching!) We met my mom and my sister's mother-in-law at the airport. My sister and brother-in-law joined us later at the Trump.
We had a great room. The Trump is right off the strip, within reasonable walking distance, and the rooms are nicely appointed. My favorite was the HUGE bath with jets. Took two baths. Yes, I did. It was awesome.
The highlight of the trip was going dancing with the entire group. My mom doesn't drink, but she boogied with us until 3 in the morning as the rest of us acted a fool. It was a really fun night, which we paid for a bit in the morning. (Hey, that's what "hair of the dog is for!")
The next day, my sister arranged for a 30-year-old-themed scavenger hunt and decorated my room with 80's/90's memorabilia. It was totally sweet! And the hunt gave us things to do as we waited for food and walked around Vegas.
Saturday night was a little more subdued, but we still had a great time. We went out for a nice dinner at Diego's in the MGM Grand (I highly recommend, by the way.) And Sunday, Justin and I said our good byes and made our way back to Sac.
I really missed Em by the end of the weekend, but it was great to have so much time with my husband. It'll be awhile, I imagine, before our next trip, so I'm glad I had such a great time.
Whoo-hoo! I'm 30! :)
Showing posts with label toddlers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toddlers. Show all posts
Monday, April 13, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
The Queen of the Meltdown
Mondays are not my friend on pretty regular basis. I always have meetings or some sort of super fun commitment after school. Then, I end up picking Em up late and either dinner or exercise (or both) is rushed and not fun.And, to make things even better, Justin is in class til late.
But this one was extra special.
1. We have two days of testing (read minimum days) this week and the kids were feeling surly, and guess who they thought would make a nice target for their frustration? Well, it didn't work out so well for them, but it wasn't the pleasant, quiet Monday I had hoped for.
2. I had an hour long tutoring session after work. I avoided the pizza, but this was the fifth one I've done for the kids, and I was feeling a bit frayed around the edges.
3. Finally, once I got Em home, she had the mother of all meltdowns. Seriously, it brought tears to my eyes.
Our evening started sweetly enough. Em skipped her nap today, and so she nodded off in the car on the way home. I didn't fret, and it was nice to be able to listen to the news without: "Play a girl song, Mom!"
I propped her up on the couch and proceeded to work out. After a couple minutes, she woke up, a bit groggy, but still pleasant. She complained that she was hungry, so I made her what she requested (this is important evidence for later)--a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Em climbs up to the table, and I continue exercising. Then, our perfect little evening is blown to smithereens.
"Mommy, Mommy, my hands, my hands!" Em screams this with such fear that I rush over thinking something might actually be wrong. But I see nothing. Her hands are covered in peanut butter, but there doesn't appear to be anything else wrong. So I give her a napkin, help her out, and try to go back to my Tae-Bo.
"Mommy, help me, help me!" Now, she is full-on crying and losing it. I stop the DVD and tend to her. Tears streaming down her face, sobs wracking her body, she screams to me "Mommy, it's poopy! Poopy!" I start to get a little panicky that maybe she did have an accident. But no, it's just the peanut butter.
However, now Em is not to be calmed down. No matter how much I try to convince her that she doesn't have "poopy" on her hands, she is inconsolable. Even after I wash her hands. Even after I give her an early bath. Still sobbing.
It isn't until we read all 3 Fancy Nancy books and I plop her in front of Kung-Fu Panda that she is happy again. I stagger off to the kitchen to make some sort of dinner, amazed at how quickly my quiet evening became a thing of the past (along with my sanity.)
Things are good now. Justin came home, and I retreated to the bedroom. Now, the baby is in bed, the dishwasher is humming along, and the laundry is a'spinning. All is well.
But I'm still hiding the peanut butter for a couple days...
But this one was extra special.
1. We have two days of testing (read minimum days) this week and the kids were feeling surly, and guess who they thought would make a nice target for their frustration? Well, it didn't work out so well for them, but it wasn't the pleasant, quiet Monday I had hoped for.
2. I had an hour long tutoring session after work. I avoided the pizza, but this was the fifth one I've done for the kids, and I was feeling a bit frayed around the edges.
3. Finally, once I got Em home, she had the mother of all meltdowns. Seriously, it brought tears to my eyes.
Our evening started sweetly enough. Em skipped her nap today, and so she nodded off in the car on the way home. I didn't fret, and it was nice to be able to listen to the news without: "Play a girl song, Mom!"
I propped her up on the couch and proceeded to work out. After a couple minutes, she woke up, a bit groggy, but still pleasant. She complained that she was hungry, so I made her what she requested (this is important evidence for later)--a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Em climbs up to the table, and I continue exercising. Then, our perfect little evening is blown to smithereens.
"Mommy, Mommy, my hands, my hands!" Em screams this with such fear that I rush over thinking something might actually be wrong. But I see nothing. Her hands are covered in peanut butter, but there doesn't appear to be anything else wrong. So I give her a napkin, help her out, and try to go back to my Tae-Bo.
"Mommy, help me, help me!" Now, she is full-on crying and losing it. I stop the DVD and tend to her. Tears streaming down her face, sobs wracking her body, she screams to me "Mommy, it's poopy! Poopy!" I start to get a little panicky that maybe she did have an accident. But no, it's just the peanut butter.
However, now Em is not to be calmed down. No matter how much I try to convince her that she doesn't have "poopy" on her hands, she is inconsolable. Even after I wash her hands. Even after I give her an early bath. Still sobbing.
It isn't until we read all 3 Fancy Nancy books and I plop her in front of Kung-Fu Panda that she is happy again. I stagger off to the kitchen to make some sort of dinner, amazed at how quickly my quiet evening became a thing of the past (along with my sanity.)
Things are good now. Justin came home, and I retreated to the bedroom. Now, the baby is in bed, the dishwasher is humming along, and the laundry is a'spinning. All is well.
But I'm still hiding the peanut butter for a couple days...
Saturday, February 7, 2009
First Haircut
Today we took Em to get her first haircut. Super necessary as she had three distinct layers. If she didn't already look a ton like me, now she is my blond mini-me. :)
At first, I didn't think it would happen. But once I sat with her, she was fine. The smock wasn't gonna happen, but she actually listened to the stylist, who was amazingly fast.
Our little girl is so big. As she reminds me all the time: "I'm a big girl, mama."
Sigh...
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Finding my Inner Mama Lion
For all my supposed flaunting of authority as a teenager, I really am a big wuss when it comes to the rules. I follow them. I rarely question them. And I feel a lot of anxiety when I feel that an authority figure is judging me.
This is especially true when it comes to doctors and other medical professionals. I remember feeling just awful when I met with the nurse practitioner for the first time about my gestational diabetes. She was totally harsh and I didn't stand up for myself at all.
When facing an authoritative person, especially women, I turn to mush.
Well, I used to.
Recently, I found my inner mama lion. This all came about because I didn't listen to myself. Which made me both really pissed with myself and with a new target: medical professionals.
Allow me to explain.
My daughter had all of her teeth, even the molars way before her first birthday. She started with two in the front, then six popped in one day (I'm not kidding) and then they all started flying in rapid succession.
I was concerned, so I asked her doctor about it a her first year appointment. She was on fluoride drops, no juice, no bottle at night, etc. All was good.
But the more I thought about it, the more worried I felt. However, every medical expert I spoke to told me to wait until she was 3 or 4 before seeing a dentist. Each one brushed me off like I had nothing to worry about. But I did.
I asked my daycare lady, who was a dental hygienist in the past, to take a look. She told me she thought she saw some decay. I rushed Em into an appointment, and yup, she had 7 cavities.
Seven cavities.
I lost it. The anger and guilt boiled through me for days. But after I calmed down and gained some perspective (I do have awesome dental coverage after all), that anger turned into something remarkably like a back bone.
When the dental hygienist asked me repeatedly if Em still took a bottle at night and arched her eyebrow every time I said no, I told her firmly that I was not lying so she could just stop it.
When the nurse who was monitoring my daughter's anesthesia during her dental surgery to fix her teeth, patted my arm condescendingly and told me not to worry about a thing, I said, "No, you will explain the entire procedure until I understand it fully."
These may not seem like bold moves, but for me they are. I finally figured out that no one will stand up for me except me. And no one can be a better advocate for my daughter but me.
Em is fine. Her teeth are beautiful and I'm so glad we were able to get everything done in one appointment, I was not thrilled about her being sedated, but it went great.
While I still wish this had never happened, I know so much more now. I knew deep down that something was wrong, but I didn't listen to myself. I used to get angry and frustrated with myself for not trusting my own judgment, but I'm so past that now. Hey, if I'm wrong about something, so be it. But I'd rather go with my gut and check things out and be a little embarrassed at overreacting than make my family the victim of my inaction.
All in all, this was a big week.
This is especially true when it comes to doctors and other medical professionals. I remember feeling just awful when I met with the nurse practitioner for the first time about my gestational diabetes. She was totally harsh and I didn't stand up for myself at all.
When facing an authoritative person, especially women, I turn to mush.
Well, I used to.
Recently, I found my inner mama lion. This all came about because I didn't listen to myself. Which made me both really pissed with myself and with a new target: medical professionals.
Allow me to explain.
My daughter had all of her teeth, even the molars way before her first birthday. She started with two in the front, then six popped in one day (I'm not kidding) and then they all started flying in rapid succession.
I was concerned, so I asked her doctor about it a her first year appointment. She was on fluoride drops, no juice, no bottle at night, etc. All was good.
But the more I thought about it, the more worried I felt. However, every medical expert I spoke to told me to wait until she was 3 or 4 before seeing a dentist. Each one brushed me off like I had nothing to worry about. But I did.
I asked my daycare lady, who was a dental hygienist in the past, to take a look. She told me she thought she saw some decay. I rushed Em into an appointment, and yup, she had 7 cavities.
Seven cavities.
I lost it. The anger and guilt boiled through me for days. But after I calmed down and gained some perspective (I do have awesome dental coverage after all), that anger turned into something remarkably like a back bone.
When the dental hygienist asked me repeatedly if Em still took a bottle at night and arched her eyebrow every time I said no, I told her firmly that I was not lying so she could just stop it.
When the nurse who was monitoring my daughter's anesthesia during her dental surgery to fix her teeth, patted my arm condescendingly and told me not to worry about a thing, I said, "No, you will explain the entire procedure until I understand it fully."
These may not seem like bold moves, but for me they are. I finally figured out that no one will stand up for me except me. And no one can be a better advocate for my daughter but me.
Em is fine. Her teeth are beautiful and I'm so glad we were able to get everything done in one appointment, I was not thrilled about her being sedated, but it went great.
While I still wish this had never happened, I know so much more now. I knew deep down that something was wrong, but I didn't listen to myself. I used to get angry and frustrated with myself for not trusting my own judgment, but I'm so past that now. Hey, if I'm wrong about something, so be it. But I'd rather go with my gut and check things out and be a little embarrassed at overreacting than make my family the victim of my inaction.
All in all, this was a big week.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Keep it Simple
Seeing the holidays through the perspective of a two-year old has been quite an experience so far this year.
Here's what I've seen through my daughter's eyes:
Fourth of July: corn-on-the cob, wading pool time, and the excuse to stay up late because the neighbors are shooting off fire crackers. Awesome.
Halloween: candy is not enough incentive to put on a costume, or worst yet, a mask. No thank you. Try me again next year.
Thanksgiving: while pumpkin pie is cool and all, the entire holiday was pretty much a letdown. Parents have to cook the whole time and I have to nap in a weird place. Nice try.
Christmas: Now we're talking. Cookies--good. Twinkly lights--good. Presents--ah, wonderful.
Today I was talking to Em about Santa (my daycare lady has her decorations up, so Em is interested in it.) I told her that Santa brings presents and that we can also give presents to people we care about. Our conversation went like this:
Me: "Emy, Santa is a man who wears a red suit, is very jolly, and brings little boys and girls presents."
Emerson: "That's wonderful mama."
Me: "What would you like Santa to bring you?"
Emerson: "A pink present, mama."
Me: "I think that he would be more than happy to do that."
I need to remember this moment for when she is older and nothing I get her makes her happy. I'll just pull out this memory of a time when just the mere thought of a gift was exciting and wonderful. Hopefully, I will remember the simple joy also.
Maybe Em has a great idea for all people. It's not really the gift that matters. It's the time and attention people put into it, the fact that they would just like to find exactly the perfect pink present you want. :)
Here's what I've seen through my daughter's eyes:
Fourth of July: corn-on-the cob, wading pool time, and the excuse to stay up late because the neighbors are shooting off fire crackers. Awesome.
Halloween: candy is not enough incentive to put on a costume, or worst yet, a mask. No thank you. Try me again next year.
Thanksgiving: while pumpkin pie is cool and all, the entire holiday was pretty much a letdown. Parents have to cook the whole time and I have to nap in a weird place. Nice try.
Christmas: Now we're talking. Cookies--good. Twinkly lights--good. Presents--ah, wonderful.
Today I was talking to Em about Santa (my daycare lady has her decorations up, so Em is interested in it.) I told her that Santa brings presents and that we can also give presents to people we care about. Our conversation went like this:
Me: "Emy, Santa is a man who wears a red suit, is very jolly, and brings little boys and girls presents."
Emerson: "That's wonderful mama."
Me: "What would you like Santa to bring you?"
Emerson: "A pink present, mama."
Me: "I think that he would be more than happy to do that."
I need to remember this moment for when she is older and nothing I get her makes her happy. I'll just pull out this memory of a time when just the mere thought of a gift was exciting and wonderful. Hopefully, I will remember the simple joy also.
Maybe Em has a great idea for all people. It's not really the gift that matters. It's the time and attention people put into it, the fact that they would just like to find exactly the perfect pink present you want. :)
Monday, August 25, 2008
I'd take 29 over 2 any day
All weekend I was a little anxious about making it through today. The first day of school is always a flurry of activity. (Which is ironic, considering that you really don't do a whole lot of teaching.) And this year I have a new challenge in teaching six classes instead of five. That means from 7:30 to 3:19 I had a total of 30 minutes break.
But I'm 29. It's really not that hard. I did just fine today.
However, I was the only one.
I came home today around five to a toddler in full melt-down mode. Justin was cuddling Em in her room, as she wiped tears off her face.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Oh, she skipped her nap at daycare," said my rueful husband.
Uh-oh.
So, we struggled through the evening. Normally happy during my "dancing" DVD (workout time), today she pouted in the laundry basket, not to be comforted by anything. She hated that we made pasta, typically her favorite. She hated her plate, her fork, even our poor cat who sat outside, bemused by Em's histrionics.
Everything came to a head during bath. We rushed our typical nighttime routine, skipping art time, outside time, and reading books. But still, Em was past any type of normal tantrum. She literally flopped on the floor and sobbed. It was rough.
Now all is quiet. My lovely, and sleeping, daughter is hugging her elephant, happy in her little bed. Thank all that is good and green on this earth.
This night reminded me how sensitive kids are, how it's so much harder to get through changes when you don't have the words yet to express your emotions. I have been worried about how Justin and I will juggle everything. But how is Em doing?
Today, not so hot.
Luckily, kids are resilient. And she's already showing signs of being happy in day care. I'm hoping that we get some Mommy and Baby time this week. She definitely deserves it.
But I'm 29. It's really not that hard. I did just fine today.
However, I was the only one.
I came home today around five to a toddler in full melt-down mode. Justin was cuddling Em in her room, as she wiped tears off her face.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Oh, she skipped her nap at daycare," said my rueful husband.
Uh-oh.
So, we struggled through the evening. Normally happy during my "dancing" DVD (workout time), today she pouted in the laundry basket, not to be comforted by anything. She hated that we made pasta, typically her favorite. She hated her plate, her fork, even our poor cat who sat outside, bemused by Em's histrionics.
Everything came to a head during bath. We rushed our typical nighttime routine, skipping art time, outside time, and reading books. But still, Em was past any type of normal tantrum. She literally flopped on the floor and sobbed. It was rough.
Now all is quiet. My lovely, and sleeping, daughter is hugging her elephant, happy in her little bed. Thank all that is good and green on this earth.
This night reminded me how sensitive kids are, how it's so much harder to get through changes when you don't have the words yet to express your emotions. I have been worried about how Justin and I will juggle everything. But how is Em doing?
Today, not so hot.
Luckily, kids are resilient. And she's already showing signs of being happy in day care. I'm hoping that we get some Mommy and Baby time this week. She definitely deserves it.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Em's Yes and No's
I'm a big fan of lists, especially when you get to put a check by something you've accomplished. So here's a couple of lists: my daughter's yes and no lists. Things she really likes and things she could do without.
Let's start with the No's.
Em's "No" List
1. Peas, except for squishing
2. Black olives (bugs, mama!)
3. Sprinklers
4. Big, new dogs
5. Bedtime (though that is getting better)
6. Leaving parks
7. Leaving Grandpa
8. Walking on grass
9. Walking anywhere without shoes
10. More than a day without Daddy
Em's "Yes" List
1. Everything strawberry
2. Everything cheesy (it's all called pizza, by the way)
3. Uncle Craig
4. All little boys
5. Cleaning (seriously)
6. Cuddling before bedtime
7. Dora (yes, we bought into the hype)
8. Elmo (he's just too dang cute!)
9. Dancing
10. Walking with Mommy and Daddy
These are just beginning lists, of course. But it's so fun to see how she is becoming her own little self. Only two years old and she really has her way of seeing the world.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Well, that's new
I cannot sing. I mouth "Happy Birthday." It's so bad that when people discover my not-singing, they tell me to go ahead and sing (it can't be that bad), and then promptly tell me to stop.
I'm okay with all this. Particularly because my daughter has loved to hear me sing.
When she was first born, I was on bath time duty pretty much every night. Over the first year of her life I would sing the same 7 or so songs and she would laugh and laugh. Her favorites: "Itsy Bitsy Spider", "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," and "Old MacDonald." At about 10 months she began mouthing the words with me and really following along. She'd do hand movements. It was adorable.
Little girl Em apparently has no desire to be adorable.
Today, after bath, I'm singing. She cuts me off: "No, no Itsy." Okay. I start with another: "No, no Tinkle." Well, what ya want, kid?!
I ask her, "What song you want to sing?" Her reply, "No song, Mama." So we counted how long it took to get dressed. She seemed okay with that.
Maybe my singing days are done. Maybe not. However, I'm aware that we have reached a new place, my daughter and I.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Her own person
The other morning I was trying to dress my 19-month daughter, which is always a hoot because she's typically asleep during the process.
So she rolls over and toots. I laugh (cause it's funny...duh!)
Her response is, "Not funny!" and she pulls the blanket over her head.
She's 19 months, not 19 years old. My goodness. I seriously woke up one day to find a person, albeit a small one, in my life. She's not a baby; she's not distracted by shiny things anymore. She has her own thoughts and feelings and agendas.
I really don't miss having a newborn: it was so much work and I felt so out of it the whole time. Also, middle of the night is NOT a good time for me. Just ask my husband--I was a beast between 12 and 4 am.
What makes me slightly sad and anxious about my little girl growing up is the sense that things are slipping away from me. I drop her off at day care at 7 and pick her up at 5:30. When she was smaller, it wasn't such a big deal. She didn't do too much during the day that she wouldn't repeat at home.
Now at daycare, she has a whole world separate of me. She has friends and favorite toys. Don't get me wrong; I think it's fantastic that she is such an independent kid and is so happy anywhere.
There's just a tinge of sadness when she races through the front door at daycare. I remember my mom saying the same thing about me when I was little. And know that my mom loomed large in my life when I was small; she was my world.
My little girl may run off to do her thing, but I will be there waiting to hear her stories and laugh at her jokes. She really is so funny.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Fun on four legs!
The last time that my husband, daughter, and I visited his family up north, our niece was not walking. She just turned one and was just on the verge of walking, but not there yet.
Well, now she's off! And my daughter, who's being walking since summer can scarcely keep up with her. It's hysterical to see them wobbling around together. And now that they are both walking, tensions betwixt the two of them have relaxed (thank the heavens.) At least for now, things are peaceful. I'm sure that will change at some point, and the newfound tranquility most likely has something to do with the fact that my in-laws get two of every present for the girls: two ducks, two dolls, two rocking horses.
We took the girls to a quiet, indoor mall in Redding and they chased each other all over. We had ice cream sundaes and looked at Christmas lights. It was a really fun time. It's so cold up here, it actually snowed a little today. It didn't stick, but when I went running today, it was stinking cold! My legs never got warm. Yeah, I'm nuts.
Well, now she's off! And my daughter, who's being walking since summer can scarcely keep up with her. It's hysterical to see them wobbling around together. And now that they are both walking, tensions betwixt the two of them have relaxed (thank the heavens.) At least for now, things are peaceful. I'm sure that will change at some point, and the newfound tranquility most likely has something to do with the fact that my in-laws get two of every present for the girls: two ducks, two dolls, two rocking horses.
We took the girls to a quiet, indoor mall in Redding and they chased each other all over. We had ice cream sundaes and looked at Christmas lights. It was a really fun time. It's so cold up here, it actually snowed a little today. It didn't stick, but when I went running today, it was stinking cold! My legs never got warm. Yeah, I'm nuts.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)