Just some random morning dialogue between Mr and Mrs Wang in the master bedroom--both are getting dressed for work. They have no idea what the girls are doing but it's quiet and that's good.
JCW: Did you hear the plastic hanger that fell off of your side of the bed in the middle of the night. Dude, why was it there? It startled me.
CCW: I didn't hear it. Funny, I sleep really well after I go to tennis.
JCW: No shit--perhaps you would sleep better if you exercise more regularly. Stick that on your spreadsheet and smoke it.
CCW: I know...
JCW: (Admiring my butt in my pants)...Hey, look how good my ass looks in these pants? Jesus, first of all, what are you thinking? This could be potentially opening Pandora's Box AND get over your ass obsession.
CCW: Yeah...is that suit new?
JCW: Okay, obviously not so good. Kind of...I bought it in April.
CCW: Have you worn any of those suits that Brendi gave you?
JCW: Well, no. Those suits are winter wool suits. I haven't even tried them on yet.
CCW: Right...wool suits being from Maine..sooo cold.
JCW: Yeah, Ching because we are in tropical Massachusetts. Next you are going to make that stupid Maine's state color is plaid. Dude, what is up with your tie? It's the length of a big boy tie that a 6 year old would wear?
CCW: Are you sniffing your clothes?
JCW: (As I am gathering my clothes for my workout), Yes. I did just sniff my clothes--I need to make sure they still smell fresh because they are going to pack a powerful stink post workout.
CCW: I don't get your power of stink when you work out.
JCW: I guess it's a gift. Are you kidding me? The stink that comes out of your ass could shrivel steel. And I work hard at the gym...again, I exercise.
But I leave it at that...because we talk, we chuckle and just appreciate the fact that the girls are still quiet but we do haul ass downstairs since they have been quiet for quite some time.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Because I can't turn the clock back, God help me, I entertain the thought of having another child.
I have to remember that this moment is fleeting and I need to be strong and push through.
With Rachel pretty much out of diapers, I am a little sad that there isn't a little person just toddling around. She is getting bigger and bigger and now, just a little girl. There isn't really any baby to her anymore except a slight hint of fat in her cheeks.
This is the point when I want to turn back time and re-appreciate the moments of joy and discovery. Because I can't turn the clock back, God help me, I entertain the thought of having another child. With two out of the baby stage, I am sure I would be better in knowing what to do with a third--practically second nature.
But Jesus Christ, if I can't handle the thought of a dog joining our family, I am sure another Wang would put me over the edge. Physically, I do feel a little older. When I was pregnant with Rachel at 38, I truly thought my knees were going to turn to jelly. And I honestly think my nipples would fall off with a third.
I also have to remind myself that I am awful with babies--in their first year, I probably enjoy about 20 hours--these are those brief naps when the baby sleeps on my chest. Just 20 hours--there are 8,740 more--hours that I don't know what I am doing, hours that I am all alone in the middle of the night with an infant who will not sleep, hours that I am dealing with blowouts, hours when I am just trying to get her to latch on.
I am quite lucky that babies aren't born at 12 months and sleeping through the night. I would probably have a litter of kids.
Right now I tell myself to focus on the here and the now. Rachel's new found independence, her love for telling people that she goes to the airport every weekend (she doesn't) and her silly ways like talking softly so you lean in and then her yelling "mooga, mooga, mooga" as if she is a monster.
I am sure as hell not going to tell Ching my fleeting thought. I would have to sleep with one eye open to make sure he doesn't get too close. And if anything did happen, I would still have to sleep with one eye open because if I made Rachel the middle child, she would be pissed.
With Rachel pretty much out of diapers, I am a little sad that there isn't a little person just toddling around. She is getting bigger and bigger and now, just a little girl. There isn't really any baby to her anymore except a slight hint of fat in her cheeks.
This is the point when I want to turn back time and re-appreciate the moments of joy and discovery. Because I can't turn the clock back, God help me, I entertain the thought of having another child. With two out of the baby stage, I am sure I would be better in knowing what to do with a third--practically second nature.
But Jesus Christ, if I can't handle the thought of a dog joining our family, I am sure another Wang would put me over the edge. Physically, I do feel a little older. When I was pregnant with Rachel at 38, I truly thought my knees were going to turn to jelly. And I honestly think my nipples would fall off with a third.
I also have to remind myself that I am awful with babies--in their first year, I probably enjoy about 20 hours--these are those brief naps when the baby sleeps on my chest. Just 20 hours--there are 8,740 more--hours that I don't know what I am doing, hours that I am all alone in the middle of the night with an infant who will not sleep, hours that I am dealing with blowouts, hours when I am just trying to get her to latch on.
I am quite lucky that babies aren't born at 12 months and sleeping through the night. I would probably have a litter of kids.
Right now I tell myself to focus on the here and the now. Rachel's new found independence, her love for telling people that she goes to the airport every weekend (she doesn't) and her silly ways like talking softly so you lean in and then her yelling "mooga, mooga, mooga" as if she is a monster.
I am sure as hell not going to tell Ching my fleeting thought. I would have to sleep with one eye open to make sure he doesn't get too close. And if anything did happen, I would still have to sleep with one eye open because if I made Rachel the middle child, she would be pissed.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Who is a bitch to Huggies? Not this chick!
I have some good news!! I have wanted to announce this over the past week but didn't want to jinx it. Rachel is using the potty!! Who is a bitch to Huggies? Not this chick!
This was our seventh attempt and it started out like a regular Sunday, every 10 minutes on her little potty. When she peed successfully, I thought it was a fluke, since I make her sit there for 15 minutes and give her my phone for entertainment. That day, we had a couple of successes and a couple of pairs of wet shorts. But she started to apologize to me for have the accident. Yes, there was the shame! (Please keep in mind I didn't say this out loud)
When she went to school, little by little (over the past 5 days) she was peeing on the potty more and having less accidents. Looking back, this actually happened quite quickly but in the moment I was trying to figure out when I was going to go to Costco/Target for my next supply of Huggies. But then there was a day of no accidents and then another, and another.
The pride in her face is amazing. She will tell anyone that she pees on the potty like a big girl and her favorite undies are the ones with Dora. Thankfully, she started pooping on the potty too. Because she wasn't as sure about the poop as the pee, she would just hold it for days. After awhile she would dart back and forth (kind of like a fly caught in a lamp) and ask for a diaper...because that is where you poop. But last night she had enough of that and told me that she just pooped on the potty in a very matter of fact way.
She didn't take advantage of any sort of bribe...she just did this when she was ready. She likes to say that she will "try later" a lot. She likes to count up to 20 before she flushes...except the automatic flush in Bertucci's, that figuratively scared the crap out of her.
I hope she can see my pride in my face too but also I am a little sad. She is not a toddler anymore, she is just a young girl. Actually a young girls that isn't very tall, so she needs to step up on a stool to sit on the big girl potty (with a special Dora seat). I am so afraid she is going to fall in...if that happens, different blog, different day.
This was our seventh attempt and it started out like a regular Sunday, every 10 minutes on her little potty. When she peed successfully, I thought it was a fluke, since I make her sit there for 15 minutes and give her my phone for entertainment. That day, we had a couple of successes and a couple of pairs of wet shorts. But she started to apologize to me for have the accident. Yes, there was the shame! (Please keep in mind I didn't say this out loud)
When she went to school, little by little (over the past 5 days) she was peeing on the potty more and having less accidents. Looking back, this actually happened quite quickly but in the moment I was trying to figure out when I was going to go to Costco/Target for my next supply of Huggies. But then there was a day of no accidents and then another, and another.
The pride in her face is amazing. She will tell anyone that she pees on the potty like a big girl and her favorite undies are the ones with Dora. Thankfully, she started pooping on the potty too. Because she wasn't as sure about the poop as the pee, she would just hold it for days. After awhile she would dart back and forth (kind of like a fly caught in a lamp) and ask for a diaper...because that is where you poop. But last night she had enough of that and told me that she just pooped on the potty in a very matter of fact way.
She didn't take advantage of any sort of bribe...she just did this when she was ready. She likes to say that she will "try later" a lot. She likes to count up to 20 before she flushes...except the automatic flush in Bertucci's, that figuratively scared the crap out of her.
I hope she can see my pride in my face too but also I am a little sad. She is not a toddler anymore, she is just a young girl. Actually a young girls that isn't very tall, so she needs to step up on a stool to sit on the big girl potty (with a special Dora seat). I am so afraid she is going to fall in...if that happens, different blog, different day.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
While it was pretty ballsy on his part, I actually appreciated the fact that the only input he wanted was my color choice.
All week, I have dreaded this afternoon. I would rather have a pap smear. Ching and I went to look and test drive a couple of cars.
The thought of spending money on a car when I just want to get to point B from A. For several years, while in the city, I didn't own a car. Ching and I bought our first car a year before we were married. While Ching and I bought the car together, he actually made the decision by himself. While it was pretty ballsy on his part, I actually appreciated the fact that the only input he wanted was my color choice.
When Rachel was born, we decided to become a two car family. We test drove a couple types of Subarus and a Honda. I was so leaky and depressed that just test driving these cars with Ching in the passenger side and some guy in the back was incredibly overwhelming. Just the choice of color made me want to cry. While I was physically present, I had nothing to do with the decision.
Quite frankly, I would have loved for Ching to make this car decision too. The lease was up with the CRV and we didn't like it enough to buy it. The only input I had on the new car was that I wanted the pick up to be less geriatric. When I press on the gas, I don't want the car to think about--I have ninja like reflexes on the Mass Pike. I need a car to match that.
As I am sure you can imagine, when looking at cars, Ching needs to set up a chart/spreadsheet of about five to seven choices. They all look the same to me and this time I just went with his first choice with was the Nissan Murano. The second choice was a Toyota Highlander. We are looking for more room in the back. (One car seat, one booster and a friend in the middle...let me stress, friend. My looking for more room doesn't mean that my uterus is open for business.)
Oh, Christ, then I have to test drive it. I wish I could just do this alone. It's not like I am going to steal this car...I have seen the show, Orange is the New Black. One of my biggest fears is being thrown into the klink and having to dodge of fat woman named Tiny who wants to be my girlfriend. Regardless, I have Ching and his silent judgement in the front seat and some creepy silent guy named Andy in the plastic covered back seat. It is probably redundant to mention but I am pitting down to my waist.
Surprisingly, I was able to make happy, coherent chit chat even when Ching went in and looked at the trunk while the trunk door was being lowered. And I was worried about looking like the jackass.
Then we get back to the desk to discuss options, payments, deals, etc. They try to do the hard sell, Ching has to whip out his phone/spreadsheet and I tune out. I have done my part--he knows that I like this car.
While they are appraising the CRV (apparently there is a potential credit since we are low on mileage), Ching and I toss around the idea of adding an entertainment system for the girls. There are options to add little screens behind the driver headrests but I nix that. The is the last thing they need. The girls have never known a non-AC car, a windows with a crank handle or a standard transmission (because of Mr. Ching Wang).
Since the girls have now infiltrated my mind, I think of what interior will camouflage crushed cookies and juice stains. I think of how long I will actually smell the new car smell before it's overtaken by kid smell.
Is it bad that I kind of want a two seater now or want them to run along the side?
The thought of spending money on a car when I just want to get to point B from A. For several years, while in the city, I didn't own a car. Ching and I bought our first car a year before we were married. While Ching and I bought the car together, he actually made the decision by himself. While it was pretty ballsy on his part, I actually appreciated the fact that the only input he wanted was my color choice.
When Rachel was born, we decided to become a two car family. We test drove a couple types of Subarus and a Honda. I was so leaky and depressed that just test driving these cars with Ching in the passenger side and some guy in the back was incredibly overwhelming. Just the choice of color made me want to cry. While I was physically present, I had nothing to do with the decision.
Quite frankly, I would have loved for Ching to make this car decision too. The lease was up with the CRV and we didn't like it enough to buy it. The only input I had on the new car was that I wanted the pick up to be less geriatric. When I press on the gas, I don't want the car to think about--I have ninja like reflexes on the Mass Pike. I need a car to match that.
As I am sure you can imagine, when looking at cars, Ching needs to set up a chart/spreadsheet of about five to seven choices. They all look the same to me and this time I just went with his first choice with was the Nissan Murano. The second choice was a Toyota Highlander. We are looking for more room in the back. (One car seat, one booster and a friend in the middle...let me stress, friend. My looking for more room doesn't mean that my uterus is open for business.)
Oh, Christ, then I have to test drive it. I wish I could just do this alone. It's not like I am going to steal this car...I have seen the show, Orange is the New Black. One of my biggest fears is being thrown into the klink and having to dodge of fat woman named Tiny who wants to be my girlfriend. Regardless, I have Ching and his silent judgement in the front seat and some creepy silent guy named Andy in the plastic covered back seat. It is probably redundant to mention but I am pitting down to my waist.
Surprisingly, I was able to make happy, coherent chit chat even when Ching went in and looked at the trunk while the trunk door was being lowered. And I was worried about looking like the jackass.
Then we get back to the desk to discuss options, payments, deals, etc. They try to do the hard sell, Ching has to whip out his phone/spreadsheet and I tune out. I have done my part--he knows that I like this car.
While they are appraising the CRV (apparently there is a potential credit since we are low on mileage), Ching and I toss around the idea of adding an entertainment system for the girls. There are options to add little screens behind the driver headrests but I nix that. The is the last thing they need. The girls have never known a non-AC car, a windows with a crank handle or a standard transmission (because of Mr. Ching Wang).
Since the girls have now infiltrated my mind, I think of what interior will camouflage crushed cookies and juice stains. I think of how long I will actually smell the new car smell before it's overtaken by kid smell.
Is it bad that I kind of want a two seater now or want them to run along the side?
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Perhaps I over shared with this response, "Hell, yeah I am buying these pants. My ass looks amazing!"
I was trapped and I didn't know what I was going to do.
3 weeks ago
I walked into a LuluLemon store for the first time. I have always thought there stuff was overpriced. And then those bags that people carry that had LL merchandise inside with those weird sayings are so obnoxious. But with the Barre classes and trying to improve my physique, I was curious about this brand that I frequently see. I tried on these pants and was amazed. The LL employee asked me if I was going to purchase them. Perhaps I over shared with this response, "Hell, yeah I am buying these pants. My ass looks amazing!"
8 days ago
Still pleased with my pants purchase, I checked out any sale items on the LuluLemon site. There were these tops that had a shelf bra sewn inside. So for the sale price of $29, I could get both a top and a sports bra in one. There was also a mention of the fabric letting go of sweaty odor--Lord knows that I need that. I thought it was a good deal even though I was now sucked into this brand.
Today
Yesterday, I got my new tops so today, I wanted to wear one during my run. Not sure if it was the top, but I had an excellent 3 mile run. Out of 32 minutes, 24 was done on an incline. Needless to say, I got quite sweaty, looked at the clock and knew I had to haul ass to get back upstairs to my desk.
But then as I am in the locker room, I realize that I am in trouble. I am trapped and I am not sure what I am going to do. I can't get my top off. This wasn't a top that I could pull the straps down, push and step out of it. I have to pull it over my head and it is impossible to do this with all the sweat. I can only get it half way off. I had to think this through so I try to put it back on...I can't do that either. So now I am standing there in the locker room, thankfully alone but trapped in a discounted LuluLemon top, boobs half in, half out. Should I call someone upstairs to help me get this off? I would have to warn them for what they would see...you know, the wonkiness and the fact that my girls like to feed on the left over the right. I didn't feel like calling anyone so I just wiggled and wormed my way out of the top all the while praying that no one walked in during my escape. This took about 3 minutes. Perhaps I just need some practice.
Jesus Christ, trapped by a brand. Ridic....
3 weeks ago
I walked into a LuluLemon store for the first time. I have always thought there stuff was overpriced. And then those bags that people carry that had LL merchandise inside with those weird sayings are so obnoxious. But with the Barre classes and trying to improve my physique, I was curious about this brand that I frequently see. I tried on these pants and was amazed. The LL employee asked me if I was going to purchase them. Perhaps I over shared with this response, "Hell, yeah I am buying these pants. My ass looks amazing!"
8 days ago
Still pleased with my pants purchase, I checked out any sale items on the LuluLemon site. There were these tops that had a shelf bra sewn inside. So for the sale price of $29, I could get both a top and a sports bra in one. There was also a mention of the fabric letting go of sweaty odor--Lord knows that I need that. I thought it was a good deal even though I was now sucked into this brand.
Today
Yesterday, I got my new tops so today, I wanted to wear one during my run. Not sure if it was the top, but I had an excellent 3 mile run. Out of 32 minutes, 24 was done on an incline. Needless to say, I got quite sweaty, looked at the clock and knew I had to haul ass to get back upstairs to my desk.
But then as I am in the locker room, I realize that I am in trouble. I am trapped and I am not sure what I am going to do. I can't get my top off. This wasn't a top that I could pull the straps down, push and step out of it. I have to pull it over my head and it is impossible to do this with all the sweat. I can only get it half way off. I had to think this through so I try to put it back on...I can't do that either. So now I am standing there in the locker room, thankfully alone but trapped in a discounted LuluLemon top, boobs half in, half out. Should I call someone upstairs to help me get this off? I would have to warn them for what they would see...you know, the wonkiness and the fact that my girls like to feed on the left over the right. I didn't feel like calling anyone so I just wiggled and wormed my way out of the top all the while praying that no one walked in during my escape. This took about 3 minutes. Perhaps I just need some practice.
Jesus Christ, trapped by a brand. Ridic....
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Let's grill a wiener, shall we?
Let's grill a wiener, shall we?
In case you live under a rock, Anthony Wiener has been caught again sending explicit texts with pictures (of his Weiner). The first time, got him escorted out of Congress. Now, after counseling, he is running for New York City mayor and still texting like he is a well renown porn star on the keyboard. His wife has stood by him through both ordeals.
With that summation, all sorts of things are going through my mind. First of all, he won't exit the mayoral race. Does he actually think he is going to win. What type of credibility does he have? (The texts weren't even good--it's like he read 50 Shades of Grey before starting.) Can you imagine being in a meeting with him wondering how many texts he could have sent during his work day. Is he actually thinking about the topic at hand or his boner? Imagine what the must call him behind his back.
Then I find myself judging not the crime itself but the fact that he was stupid enough to get caught, not once but twice! I have to get this thought out of my head because I feel like I am excusing the actual act of stupidity.
And then the wife...holy shit. She is a smart, well educated woman. I respect that she is committed to the marriage--this is a prime example of better or worse. But how much can she take before losing respect for herself? And how can she turn to her friends and family? I would think that her outward support for the Wien is easier to do for a crowd that she doesn't know as opposed to friends and family.
I then question what I would do if the Wang started acting like the Wien. I do believe in the sanctity of marriage and working on it but I can hear my mother's voice going "Once a cheater, always a cheater." And if I did try to work on the relationship, how in God's name would I be able to bring my husband home? My sister, a Cross Fit fanatic, can hug so strong and hard that you feel like a rib is being cracked. And that is when she LIKES you. My mom..well, she reads and gardens a lot. I am sure that my man would suffer at her hands by ingesting something that would make him vomit a whole lot.
I truly don't know what I would do. Would I demand a Kobe Bryant type infidelity jewel or walk away cleanly with half like Elin? I don't think that I could get past the bad literary text porn and wiener showing. Ching and I are not allowed to bring up past issues in current arguments. If he pissed me off in 2006, that is not fair game to bring it up in 2012. This type of thing would fester...yeah, I think I would have to walk away.
And I would totally be turned off my hot dogs....
In case you live under a rock, Anthony Wiener has been caught again sending explicit texts with pictures (of his Weiner). The first time, got him escorted out of Congress. Now, after counseling, he is running for New York City mayor and still texting like he is a well renown porn star on the keyboard. His wife has stood by him through both ordeals.
With that summation, all sorts of things are going through my mind. First of all, he won't exit the mayoral race. Does he actually think he is going to win. What type of credibility does he have? (The texts weren't even good--it's like he read 50 Shades of Grey before starting.) Can you imagine being in a meeting with him wondering how many texts he could have sent during his work day. Is he actually thinking about the topic at hand or his boner? Imagine what the must call him behind his back.
Then I find myself judging not the crime itself but the fact that he was stupid enough to get caught, not once but twice! I have to get this thought out of my head because I feel like I am excusing the actual act of stupidity.
And then the wife...holy shit. She is a smart, well educated woman. I respect that she is committed to the marriage--this is a prime example of better or worse. But how much can she take before losing respect for herself? And how can she turn to her friends and family? I would think that her outward support for the Wien is easier to do for a crowd that she doesn't know as opposed to friends and family.
I then question what I would do if the Wang started acting like the Wien. I do believe in the sanctity of marriage and working on it but I can hear my mother's voice going "Once a cheater, always a cheater." And if I did try to work on the relationship, how in God's name would I be able to bring my husband home? My sister, a Cross Fit fanatic, can hug so strong and hard that you feel like a rib is being cracked. And that is when she LIKES you. My mom..well, she reads and gardens a lot. I am sure that my man would suffer at her hands by ingesting something that would make him vomit a whole lot.
I truly don't know what I would do. Would I demand a Kobe Bryant type infidelity jewel or walk away cleanly with half like Elin? I don't think that I could get past the bad literary text porn and wiener showing. Ching and I are not allowed to bring up past issues in current arguments. If he pissed me off in 2006, that is not fair game to bring it up in 2012. This type of thing would fester...yeah, I think I would have to walk away.
And I would totally be turned off my hot dogs....
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
My tone and body language does not give the impression that a stuffed animal is missing.
I had a code red situation yesterday...no, it didn't involve white pants and some bitch named Flo...this was something much bigger. On Friday night, Rachel did not have her beloved Baby Bear. Since I didn't do pick up or drop off, I assumed that BB was left at school. As a parent, I do what I do best and lie to Rachel about the whereabouts of BB. I tell her that he is safe with her favorite teacher over the weekend.
Since it was the weekend, I had to make sure she had a substitute for that mangy, smelly bear (imagine, sleeping on a pillowcase that hasn't been washed in about eight months). Always one step ahead, offering a solution before she even knows what is missing. I do consider myself lucky because she recently acquired a very large Minnie Mouse that has her attention. (That's right, Rachel will temporarily kick BB to the curb if she has something shiny and new.) This song and dance seemed ridiculous but I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The Wangs were going to get Baby Bear back on Monday.
As everyone is getting ready to walk about the door to either work, camp or daycare, Ching drops this bomb.
CCW: "I don't think Baby Bear is at school."
JCW: This is what assuming gets me. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE ISN'T AT SCHOOL!?"
My tone and body language does not give the impression that a stuffed animal is missing. It sounds like I caught him cheating or straying from the spreadsheet.
True to his weasly confession, BB was not at school and I am panicked. We have lost valuable time. Ching and I could have backtracked all weekend, taken ransom notes, posted flyers, etc. I just wanted this bear back for my girl. Ching senses my panic, truly thinks and realizes that the bear was left on the playground at Laurel's summer camp. He called and confirmed that they had him. I was also hoping they brought him inside prior to Sunday's downpour.
Rachel was so happy when she got Baby Bear back. (The new Minnie Mouse has been kicked to the side.) The look on her face was priceless and the sense of relief that I felt for this frickin' bear makes me realize that I am due for a serious vacation.
Since it was the weekend, I had to make sure she had a substitute for that mangy, smelly bear (imagine, sleeping on a pillowcase that hasn't been washed in about eight months). Always one step ahead, offering a solution before she even knows what is missing. I do consider myself lucky because she recently acquired a very large Minnie Mouse that has her attention. (That's right, Rachel will temporarily kick BB to the curb if she has something shiny and new.) This song and dance seemed ridiculous but I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The Wangs were going to get Baby Bear back on Monday.
As everyone is getting ready to walk about the door to either work, camp or daycare, Ching drops this bomb.
CCW: "I don't think Baby Bear is at school."
JCW: This is what assuming gets me. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE ISN'T AT SCHOOL!?"
My tone and body language does not give the impression that a stuffed animal is missing. It sounds like I caught him cheating or straying from the spreadsheet.
True to his weasly confession, BB was not at school and I am panicked. We have lost valuable time. Ching and I could have backtracked all weekend, taken ransom notes, posted flyers, etc. I just wanted this bear back for my girl. Ching senses my panic, truly thinks and realizes that the bear was left on the playground at Laurel's summer camp. He called and confirmed that they had him. I was also hoping they brought him inside prior to Sunday's downpour.
Rachel was so happy when she got Baby Bear back. (The new Minnie Mouse has been kicked to the side.) The look on her face was priceless and the sense of relief that I felt for this frickin' bear makes me realize that I am due for a serious vacation.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
I have been questioned (at work) about what I am like at home like I am some sort of human gargoyle that my kids must endure.
When I drive home from work, there is a transformation that happens. I go from Work Jude to Home Jude. While this doesn't seem like a big deal, I have been questioned (at work) about what I am like at home like I am some sort of human gargoyle that my kids must endure. I can assure you that I am kinder and gentler.
When I see my girls, I immediately want to hug them. I want them to know that they are loved and safe. I don't feel that way about anyone at work therefore I have a "abso-frickin' no hugging" policy. I am continually perplexed why someone would want to hug me rather than shake my hand. I have found that most who want to hug me are men and I try to give the same "cold as ice" stare that I give Ching as they are trying to go in for the business.
I don't swear at home. I am not sure how I do this but JCW rated R version from work quietly transitions to JCW rated PG at home. I never use my beloved F bomb at home even though at work I can use it as a noun, verb, pronoun and adverb. At home, I talk like this blog--no F bombs. Swearing sounds very mad and quite frankly, I don't want to have to explain myself to Laurel or be afraid that Rachel will repeat it at daycare.
At work, I tend to stay to myself. This may give the impression that I am snobby but I am actually shy. I would rather stay in the comfort of my cubicle rather than stray out and meet new hires (that were born when I graduated from high school.) When I am home, I push myself out of that comfort zone and try to meet other parents. Ching is very good at this so usually I just tag along as "Ching's wife--you know, that one with a guy's name". I just want to make sure that other mom's know who the girls' mom is and who to call for a play date. Over time I have gotten better at this, able to make happy chit chat when I run into them at Shaw's without saying awkward things or acting like their new best friend. For some reason at work, if I say something awkward to a new hire, it doesn't bother me. I am just the chick with the two last names in cubicle 5-021 and I am okay with that.
I am not as hard at home as one would think if they watched me at work. I wouldn't say that I am bitchy at work but I am not one to give the benefit of the doubt. I consider it cutting through the chase. I am not like this at home at all. If Laurel asks me to buy an app or Rachel asks for a sugary snack (after having a potty accident), I usually cave. I do discipline but not with the bitchy iron fist that I carry around at work. (This gives the impression that I have some sort of influence at work...I don't--not power outside cube 5-021.)
Perhaps one day this will change, softer at work, harder at home. Except for Ching, he gets the hard work side every now and then...
When I see my girls, I immediately want to hug them. I want them to know that they are loved and safe. I don't feel that way about anyone at work therefore I have a "abso-frickin' no hugging" policy. I am continually perplexed why someone would want to hug me rather than shake my hand. I have found that most who want to hug me are men and I try to give the same "cold as ice" stare that I give Ching as they are trying to go in for the business.
I don't swear at home. I am not sure how I do this but JCW rated R version from work quietly transitions to JCW rated PG at home. I never use my beloved F bomb at home even though at work I can use it as a noun, verb, pronoun and adverb. At home, I talk like this blog--no F bombs. Swearing sounds very mad and quite frankly, I don't want to have to explain myself to Laurel or be afraid that Rachel will repeat it at daycare.
At work, I tend to stay to myself. This may give the impression that I am snobby but I am actually shy. I would rather stay in the comfort of my cubicle rather than stray out and meet new hires (that were born when I graduated from high school.) When I am home, I push myself out of that comfort zone and try to meet other parents. Ching is very good at this so usually I just tag along as "Ching's wife--you know, that one with a guy's name". I just want to make sure that other mom's know who the girls' mom is and who to call for a play date. Over time I have gotten better at this, able to make happy chit chat when I run into them at Shaw's without saying awkward things or acting like their new best friend. For some reason at work, if I say something awkward to a new hire, it doesn't bother me. I am just the chick with the two last names in cubicle 5-021 and I am okay with that.
I am not as hard at home as one would think if they watched me at work. I wouldn't say that I am bitchy at work but I am not one to give the benefit of the doubt. I consider it cutting through the chase. I am not like this at home at all. If Laurel asks me to buy an app or Rachel asks for a sugary snack (after having a potty accident), I usually cave. I do discipline but not with the bitchy iron fist that I carry around at work. (This gives the impression that I have some sort of influence at work...I don't--not power outside cube 5-021.)
Perhaps one day this will change, softer at work, harder at home. Except for Ching, he gets the hard work side every now and then...
Saturday, July 20, 2013
This one is close one but I am giving it to the parent because you never tried to breast feed your dog.
Recently I saw this Huffington Post article listing annoying things that parents say to non parents. I did my best to keep an open mind even though I was considered the bad guy. As I start to read, right off the bat, I was on the defensive with the first issue: Dogs are not children. You got that right. I have an issue for pet owners that compare my responsibilities as a mom to theirs as a dog owner, think that mother's day is for them and think they can empathize with me. But (as I inhale a deep cleansing breath) I truly try to compare their responsibilities to mine and come to terms to whom may have it a little bit harder.
Feeding: As a dog owner, food tends to be pretty uniform--it either comes in a can or a bag. You may have to switch out brands every now and then for variety. You do have to pour it out for the dog for it's entire life--it will never be able to prepare anything. With a baby, they may suck your nipples off for nourishment. I have dealt with a lot of pickiness and have tried all sorts of variety. With each child, I have a good 8-10 years of preparing their food before they just start to eat cereal 24/7. This one is close one but I am giving it to the parent because you never tried to breast feed your dog.
Pooping/Peeing: This one is easy. While I am currently struggling with potty training child #2 (with some success--knock on wood), I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. There will be a time in the near future when I won't have to wipe a kid's butt that has the potential of exploding on me. As a dog owner, you cannot train your dog. You will be scooping up poop with a plastic bag covered hand forever. You win. (Score 1 to 1)
Daycare: While their are doggie daycare options, most people leave their pet's at home either in a crate or to roam free through out the house or apartment. I cannot leave Rachel in a crate with some food and water--Lord knows that I would try if I could. But I can't and my option is very expensive. I win (2-1)
Being in heat: My girls are not...thank God. But your dog could be and ruining ever throw pillow in your house. I don't have to deal spaying or neutering and that look that your dog must give you when you drop him/her off at the vet knowing what's going to happen. You win. (2-2)
Wet kid vs wet dog: When it rains, my kids smell better when it's wet than your dog. I don't care how well groomed your dog is, there is something about the wet dog smell that just isn't good. I think I would take the kid poo smell over wet dog smell. You win. (2-3)
Happy to see me?: As you or I walked into the house, our kids or dogs love to see us. Unless your dog goes through puberty, that will remain. I will give my girls another 5 years until they don't acknowledge me until they are hungry. I win (3-3).
Independence: I know your dog probably loves to run without a leash as does Rachel. But after a while, for me, "the leash" is no longer appropriate and I have to trust that they are okay as they are on their own. There will be many sleepless nights. The score is now 4-3.
Cost: I wish my girls cost as much as a dog. Even when they are old enough to get a job they will sucker me into something overpriced. They can do the puppy dog eyes too. And the final score is 5-3.
These are just a few things..there are probably more that you think that I should have mentioned (like tax deductions). I would never doubt the love and care of our own is the same but the comparison between teh two is not. But if you really want to start a movement, contact Hallmark--get a Pet Owner's Day. But keep your hand's off of Mother's Day.
Feeding: As a dog owner, food tends to be pretty uniform--it either comes in a can or a bag. You may have to switch out brands every now and then for variety. You do have to pour it out for the dog for it's entire life--it will never be able to prepare anything. With a baby, they may suck your nipples off for nourishment. I have dealt with a lot of pickiness and have tried all sorts of variety. With each child, I have a good 8-10 years of preparing their food before they just start to eat cereal 24/7. This one is close one but I am giving it to the parent because you never tried to breast feed your dog.
Pooping/Peeing: This one is easy. While I am currently struggling with potty training child #2 (with some success--knock on wood), I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. There will be a time in the near future when I won't have to wipe a kid's butt that has the potential of exploding on me. As a dog owner, you cannot train your dog. You will be scooping up poop with a plastic bag covered hand forever. You win. (Score 1 to 1)
Daycare: While their are doggie daycare options, most people leave their pet's at home either in a crate or to roam free through out the house or apartment. I cannot leave Rachel in a crate with some food and water--Lord knows that I would try if I could. But I can't and my option is very expensive. I win (2-1)
Being in heat: My girls are not...thank God. But your dog could be and ruining ever throw pillow in your house. I don't have to deal spaying or neutering and that look that your dog must give you when you drop him/her off at the vet knowing what's going to happen. You win. (2-2)
Wet kid vs wet dog: When it rains, my kids smell better when it's wet than your dog. I don't care how well groomed your dog is, there is something about the wet dog smell that just isn't good. I think I would take the kid poo smell over wet dog smell. You win. (2-3)
Happy to see me?: As you or I walked into the house, our kids or dogs love to see us. Unless your dog goes through puberty, that will remain. I will give my girls another 5 years until they don't acknowledge me until they are hungry. I win (3-3).
Independence: I know your dog probably loves to run without a leash as does Rachel. But after a while, for me, "the leash" is no longer appropriate and I have to trust that they are okay as they are on their own. There will be many sleepless nights. The score is now 4-3.
Cost: I wish my girls cost as much as a dog. Even when they are old enough to get a job they will sucker me into something overpriced. They can do the puppy dog eyes too. And the final score is 5-3.
These are just a few things..there are probably more that you think that I should have mentioned (like tax deductions). I would never doubt the love and care of our own is the same but the comparison between teh two is not. But if you really want to start a movement, contact Hallmark--get a Pet Owner's Day. But keep your hand's off of Mother's Day.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Anytime I feel like I am getting into the motherhood groove, you are right there to say, "Wait ol' lady...not so fast."
Oh Rachel...you are 3 today, even though you tried many times to convince me that you were 7. This is typical. There is something quite amazing about you that keeps me on my toes all the time. You are like a maternal watchdog. Anytime I feel like I am getting into the motherhood groove, you are right there to say, "Wait ol' lady...not so fast."
This started from day one when you poked a little hole to get my water to break and then did nothing for 14 hours. When everyone was snuggled into their beds at 2:12 am...this is when you wanted to come out and you gave us about 90 minutes to get to the hospital. Right now!
You have no fear in your actions---you will jump off of anything and spin endlessly. While some may think you are shy, I have realized that you're just sizing them up. Perhaps they will be welcomed by you or just get a pout and a dismissal with your eyes.
Anything that was easy with Laurel, you want me to experience the other side...picky eating (one day you love something, the next day, absolutely not), walking (why move when we would just get it for you), enunciation (many months of not knowing what the hell you were saying) and now..potty training (every Huggies purchase just takes a little more out of your inheritance). Perhaps you are making me a more well rounded mother.
While you are small in stature, you are larger than life to our family. How do you pull the dramatics? Just the other day when you came to me with a small voice, hands clasped in front of you saying, "Mommy, I am sorry that I peed in my pants". How did you get your lip to tremble like that and get that one tear in your eye to glisten and not fall? Jesus... (You obviously didn't get my ugly crying gene.)
And you are only 3. Part of me doesn't want you to get older because I am a little afraid at what your teen years will do to me.
This started from day one when you poked a little hole to get my water to break and then did nothing for 14 hours. When everyone was snuggled into their beds at 2:12 am...this is when you wanted to come out and you gave us about 90 minutes to get to the hospital. Right now!
You have no fear in your actions---you will jump off of anything and spin endlessly. While some may think you are shy, I have realized that you're just sizing them up. Perhaps they will be welcomed by you or just get a pout and a dismissal with your eyes.
Anything that was easy with Laurel, you want me to experience the other side...picky eating (one day you love something, the next day, absolutely not), walking (why move when we would just get it for you), enunciation (many months of not knowing what the hell you were saying) and now..potty training (every Huggies purchase just takes a little more out of your inheritance). Perhaps you are making me a more well rounded mother.
While you are small in stature, you are larger than life to our family. How do you pull the dramatics? Just the other day when you came to me with a small voice, hands clasped in front of you saying, "Mommy, I am sorry that I peed in my pants". How did you get your lip to tremble like that and get that one tear in your eye to glisten and not fall? Jesus... (You obviously didn't get my ugly crying gene.)
And you are only 3. Part of me doesn't want you to get older because I am a little afraid at what your teen years will do to me.
Monday, July 15, 2013
I can't wait to have a party to debut this bad boy.
While home ownership is quite rewarding, there is nothing worse that pouring money into a very unglamourous project. We have lived in our house for 3 years and it seems that the practical projects had the priority over the cool projects. First we had to fix the Mr Wizard version of central air conditioning that some Macgyver rigged in the attic. Then, the funky furnace with charm had to go and now...wait for it...we are getting a new driveway! Apparently ours is cracked, lumpy and such so it needs to be fixed. I can't wait to have a party to debut this bad boy. It is going to be a couple more years before I can gut my kitchen (and blow out the single car garage) and make it bigger.
This project is being spearheaded by Ching--he is calling around for estimates and I am there to agree on what we are paying for (and rolling my eyes on the inside). Last night we got the first estimate. Keep in mind, the budgeted figure on the spreadsheet is $5500. (The driveway is small yet steep.)
CCW: "So listen to this.."
JCW: Oh Jesus, you sound too excited to talk about tar.
CCW: "The guy from Company X came over tonight to measure and look at the job. You have seen the company around right?"
JCW: "Sure." Oh course this must mean reputable. C'mon, JCW stop being such a bitch.
CCW: "And he said hat he could do our driveway and rip out the shrubs and basketball hoop for $3300."
JCW: "Great--$2200 saved!" Like someone smiled on me stop being a bitch. (I didn't tell you this--we have this decrepit, rusted basketball hoop at the top of our driveway. I think back in the 1970's some kid thought he would be the next Dr. J--yeah, the hoop is that old. The hoop post is surround by this thick bush that seems to be the favorite of the family of squirrels that torment Ching.)
CCW: "Well, wait a minute..."
JCW: Oh shit...
CCW: "He can also re-do the walkway up to the front door like the neighbors. You know how they have the raised brick."
JCW: "Yes." I am not blind.
CCW: "And..."
JCW: AND?! Have you seen how little counter space I have in the kitchen when I am making your God damn dinner? Why can't we save for that...freakin' raised brick.
CCW: "He can put this blue stone on the front stairs in this pattern..."
JCW: I didn't realize that we were going for the mosaic Native American look.
CCW: "All in, we are looking at $6000."
JCW: We went from saving $2200 to overspending by $500 on two items that we weren't even considering before today? I hope you don't think my silence is agreement.
CCW: "Let's think about this for a bit."
JCW: Think about it all you want. Fiddle with that spreadsheet. I know what the answer is.
Perhaps hamburgers and hot dogs for the driveway debut? I mean, it is just the driveway...
This project is being spearheaded by Ching--he is calling around for estimates and I am there to agree on what we are paying for (and rolling my eyes on the inside). Last night we got the first estimate. Keep in mind, the budgeted figure on the spreadsheet is $5500. (The driveway is small yet steep.)
CCW: "So listen to this.."
JCW: Oh Jesus, you sound too excited to talk about tar.
CCW: "The guy from Company X came over tonight to measure and look at the job. You have seen the company around right?"
JCW: "Sure." Oh course this must mean reputable. C'mon, JCW stop being such a bitch.
CCW: "And he said hat he could do our driveway and rip out the shrubs and basketball hoop for $3300."
JCW: "Great--$2200 saved!" Like someone smiled on me stop being a bitch. (I didn't tell you this--we have this decrepit, rusted basketball hoop at the top of our driveway. I think back in the 1970's some kid thought he would be the next Dr. J--yeah, the hoop is that old. The hoop post is surround by this thick bush that seems to be the favorite of the family of squirrels that torment Ching.)
CCW: "Well, wait a minute..."
JCW: Oh shit...
CCW: "He can also re-do the walkway up to the front door like the neighbors. You know how they have the raised brick."
JCW: "Yes." I am not blind.
CCW: "And..."
JCW: AND?! Have you seen how little counter space I have in the kitchen when I am making your God damn dinner? Why can't we save for that...freakin' raised brick.
CCW: "He can put this blue stone on the front stairs in this pattern..."
JCW: I didn't realize that we were going for the mosaic Native American look.
CCW: "All in, we are looking at $6000."
JCW: We went from saving $2200 to overspending by $500 on two items that we weren't even considering before today? I hope you don't think my silence is agreement.
CCW: "Let's think about this for a bit."
JCW: Think about it all you want. Fiddle with that spreadsheet. I know what the answer is.
Perhaps hamburgers and hot dogs for the driveway debut? I mean, it is just the driveway...
Sunday, July 14, 2013
But this was a classic case of the right Wang not knowing what the left Wang is doing.
You know, I am curious what Laurel says to other parents when she is at a play date. I found that Laurel is kind of a snitch. She thinks she can keep a secret but she tries to let pieces slip out here and there and the listener can catch her drift. I told her specifically not to tell Ching about my agreeing to get her ears pierced. He really wasn't part of the decision but I was going to try to convince him therefore lead him to believe that he was (part of the decision). He later came to me and said that he heard that Laurel's getting her ears pierced. Apparently she didn't tell him that I said that she could but rather I was going to talk to him to let him know of my decision. Jesus...same thing. If it's not spilling secrets, it's just telling random information.
As I picked up Laurel yesterday at her friend's house, she was telling the other mom about her upcoming fall lessons. The mom wanted to know where Laurel was going for gymnastics. She is taking gymnastics? News to me--I fessed up and said that I didn't know. (Apparently Ching told Laurel that she could take gymnastics.) Ching usually sets those things up. But this was a classic case of the right Wang not knowing what the left Wang is doing.
What else does she talk about?
How I swat Ching away like a fly when he is standing to close to me?
How I am usually so frantic in the morning that usually I am running around only partially dressed?
The fact that we have the starter potty in the family room for Rachel's sixth attempt? (Don't ask.)
That she and her sister are finally in bed every night at 9:00?
Her dad has a secret stash of pie in the freezer that's not so secret and her mom eats ice cream in bed.
The fact that I carry my phone everywhere because I am a Facebook lurker and a Candy Crush addict?
As I approach the door of her friend's house, I hope to God she doesn't.
As I picked up Laurel yesterday at her friend's house, she was telling the other mom about her upcoming fall lessons. The mom wanted to know where Laurel was going for gymnastics. She is taking gymnastics? News to me--I fessed up and said that I didn't know. (Apparently Ching told Laurel that she could take gymnastics.) Ching usually sets those things up. But this was a classic case of the right Wang not knowing what the left Wang is doing.
What else does she talk about?
How I swat Ching away like a fly when he is standing to close to me?
How I am usually so frantic in the morning that usually I am running around only partially dressed?
The fact that we have the starter potty in the family room for Rachel's sixth attempt? (Don't ask.)
That she and her sister are finally in bed every night at 9:00?
Her dad has a secret stash of pie in the freezer that's not so secret and her mom eats ice cream in bed.
The fact that I carry my phone everywhere because I am a Facebook lurker and a Candy Crush addict?
As I approach the door of her friend's house, I hope to God she doesn't.
Friday, July 12, 2013
My life would be totally different if I quit on the first try.
My life would be totally different if I quit on the first try.
Quitting came to mind at about 1:00 this past Thursday. On the quest of changing up my gym routine, I decided to participate in a kickboxing class at noon. I run regularly and do barre so I thought I would be in perfect shape for this class and do it well. Stressing the last part again, of doing it well. The Barre instructor also teaches kickboxing so I knew this class would be high energy, sweat inducing and have good music. (Mariama was first introduced in "Of course not only am I thinking pure crazy but I can't keep it to myself" from 6/4. Again, she is helping me with my goal of getting back my butt from 1992) Mariama knows that my goal is to "stink so good" after a good workout. That sweaty stink are several calories burned.
Anyway, as the class starts, I am back in junior high all over again. Physically I believe I can keep up if we did the same movement. But we don't and I become a total nightmare of uncoordinated movement. I knew I was in trouble when I looked at the clock and only five minutes went by and I wanted to leave. I get some movements here and there and I start to drip with sweat. I am making it through the class and then we partner up. Mariama is very kind to be my partner but I feel bad because I am the student "learning in her own special way." We had to do this exercise where she squats down, my leg does a high kick over her head, then I squat and she does the same. So, as I am dripping with sweat, out of breath, my legs feeling like it's going to fall out of the sockets, I now have started to pray. (Please don't kick her in the face. She is going to be a bride in a few months.) I make it through the class but I am very frustrated. I know I am quite a bit older from junior high Jude because instead of crying, I mutter f-bombs under my breath.
As I come out of the locker room, smelling quite a bit better, Mariama meets me out front. She asked me how I felt and I told her that I don't think that's my thing. It was hard and I wasn't good at it right away. She told me that it takes some time and I may want to try again rather than quitting after this one time.
While I was starting to get incredibly sore after this workout, I thought about what she said. But this was a tough workout. By the end of the day, it hurt to lift my arms above my head. I had to ask Ching for help to get my blouse off. (And of course, he thought it was some sort of invitation.) But again, quitting after the first try...my life would be quite a bit different if I quit after the first try.
I wouldn't have met Ching because he was only 25 and I wanted to date someone 27 or older.
I would have walked away the first time he pissed me off.
I would have wanted to walk away when Ching lost his job right only months after graduating from Wharton.
I wouldn't have Laurel or Rachel because I didn't get pregnant on the first try.
I wouldn't have breastfed them if I didn't constantly try after those first failed attempts.
You get my drift as I now sound like some song by Pink.
I saw Mariama today and I told her that I would try again next Thursday. But God damn it, I am going to be in the corner near the door next time.
Quitting came to mind at about 1:00 this past Thursday. On the quest of changing up my gym routine, I decided to participate in a kickboxing class at noon. I run regularly and do barre so I thought I would be in perfect shape for this class and do it well. Stressing the last part again, of doing it well. The Barre instructor also teaches kickboxing so I knew this class would be high energy, sweat inducing and have good music. (Mariama was first introduced in "Of course not only am I thinking pure crazy but I can't keep it to myself" from 6/4. Again, she is helping me with my goal of getting back my butt from 1992) Mariama knows that my goal is to "stink so good" after a good workout. That sweaty stink are several calories burned.
Anyway, as the class starts, I am back in junior high all over again. Physically I believe I can keep up if we did the same movement. But we don't and I become a total nightmare of uncoordinated movement. I knew I was in trouble when I looked at the clock and only five minutes went by and I wanted to leave. I get some movements here and there and I start to drip with sweat. I am making it through the class and then we partner up. Mariama is very kind to be my partner but I feel bad because I am the student "learning in her own special way." We had to do this exercise where she squats down, my leg does a high kick over her head, then I squat and she does the same. So, as I am dripping with sweat, out of breath, my legs feeling like it's going to fall out of the sockets, I now have started to pray. (Please don't kick her in the face. She is going to be a bride in a few months.) I make it through the class but I am very frustrated. I know I am quite a bit older from junior high Jude because instead of crying, I mutter f-bombs under my breath.
As I come out of the locker room, smelling quite a bit better, Mariama meets me out front. She asked me how I felt and I told her that I don't think that's my thing. It was hard and I wasn't good at it right away. She told me that it takes some time and I may want to try again rather than quitting after this one time.
While I was starting to get incredibly sore after this workout, I thought about what she said. But this was a tough workout. By the end of the day, it hurt to lift my arms above my head. I had to ask Ching for help to get my blouse off. (And of course, he thought it was some sort of invitation.) But again, quitting after the first try...my life would be quite a bit different if I quit after the first try.
I wouldn't have met Ching because he was only 25 and I wanted to date someone 27 or older.
I would have walked away the first time he pissed me off.
I would have wanted to walk away when Ching lost his job right only months after graduating from Wharton.
I wouldn't have Laurel or Rachel because I didn't get pregnant on the first try.
I wouldn't have breastfed them if I didn't constantly try after those first failed attempts.
You get my drift as I now sound like some song by Pink.
I saw Mariama today and I told her that I would try again next Thursday. But God damn it, I am going to be in the corner near the door next time.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Again, please don't use the word. This would be considered the "P" word.
The set up to the conversation is this: Laurel has a friend at camp that is acting kind of weird. She is being demanding, moody, etc. Sounds like she is trying the alpha dog role. Laurel is freaked out by the whole thing but Ching and I told her that she needs to stand up for herself. If her friend is bothering her, either tell her to knock it off or walk away.
So with this info, this conversation happened at dinner last night.
CCW: Laurel, how was your friend today?
LAW: She was kind of weird but I told her what you told me to say.
JCW: Good for you for standing up for yourself.
CCW: Did she still act pissy?
JCW: Really, Ching? Pissy?
LAW: Um...
JCW: Laurel, do you know what pissy means?
LAW: Not really.
JCW: You know how your sister is in the other room refusing to come to the dinner table and acting cranky? That's pissy. It's not a nice word to use. Please don't use it. Pissy is a way of describing someone cranky. Piss is another way of saying pee and pissed off means to be really mad. Again, please don't use the word. This would be considered the "P" word. Wow, where the freak did that come from? I knew I was the master of the swear words but I was so matter of fact and clinical. I am calling it now--I am explaining all swear words. Kind of like calling shotgun.
LAW: Ha! You said pee!
And there you go.
So with this info, this conversation happened at dinner last night.
CCW: Laurel, how was your friend today?
LAW: She was kind of weird but I told her what you told me to say.
JCW: Good for you for standing up for yourself.
CCW: Did she still act pissy?
JCW: Really, Ching? Pissy?
LAW: Um...
JCW: Laurel, do you know what pissy means?
LAW: Not really.
JCW: You know how your sister is in the other room refusing to come to the dinner table and acting cranky? That's pissy. It's not a nice word to use. Please don't use it. Pissy is a way of describing someone cranky. Piss is another way of saying pee and pissed off means to be really mad. Again, please don't use the word. This would be considered the "P" word. Wow, where the freak did that come from? I knew I was the master of the swear words but I was so matter of fact and clinical. I am calling it now--I am explaining all swear words. Kind of like calling shotgun.
LAW: Ha! You said pee!
And there you go.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
9. I am quite good at not showing favorites between the two girls--sometimes it's quite easy because there are times that I don't like either of them.
Last night I had a dark cloud over my head as I went to bed. I was pouting up a storm (and also confirmed that Rachel indeed got this from me) because I couldn't...wait for it...I couldn't french braid Laurel's hair. And the french braid that she would like is the kind that goes right around the front of the hairline. It seems so minor but I liked that type of braid growing up and my mom learned while I demanded no lumps! I wanted to do the same for Laurel.
When she asked over the weekend, I didn't think there would be much of an issue because I could just look up a tutorial on YouTube. It is much easier said that done. My fingers just aren't very nimble (Jesus Christ, do I need to be double jointed?) and Laurel's hair is so slippery. And because I couldn't do it, I got pissy. (Laurel didn't seem all that bothered.)
My pissy-ness carried over to this morning so much so that I had to take a little inventory of random things that I can do well.
1. I can pay the sitter without awkwardness.
2. I can make three dinners at once AND everyone eats together. (What are the three dinners you ask? Normal one for Ching and myself. Laurel has a pasta, mac and cheese, hot dog, chicken nuggets or grilled cheese (with fruits) and Rachel eats a continental breakfast for dinner of assorted breads, yogurt and fruit.)
3. I can avoid sex for unmentionable spans of time.
4. I have agile ninja-like driving skills on the Mass Pike.
5. I can have two conversations with both children at the same time because God forbid if one waits her turn.
6. I can change a diaper on a running almost 3 year old (as long as it's pee only).
7. I am an excellent negotiator of who gets the Ipad, my phone, or television show of choice.
8. Bribery is my bag but the key is not feeling guilty about it--and I never do.
9. I am quite good at not showing favorites between the two girls--sometimes it's quite easy because there are times that I don't like either of them.
10. I have snack ESP--not only can I anticipate another call for a snack but I know exactly what they will want such as crunchy, dairy, sugary, salty, fruit or yogurt. Sometimes it's just like throwing a piece of meat to the wolves.
After I go through this list of randoms, I feel a little better. As I think about learning about the braiding, I realize that if I can braid Laurel's hair, that will add another 10 minutes to the morning routine. Regular braids will just have to do for now.
When she asked over the weekend, I didn't think there would be much of an issue because I could just look up a tutorial on YouTube. It is much easier said that done. My fingers just aren't very nimble (Jesus Christ, do I need to be double jointed?) and Laurel's hair is so slippery. And because I couldn't do it, I got pissy. (Laurel didn't seem all that bothered.)
My pissy-ness carried over to this morning so much so that I had to take a little inventory of random things that I can do well.
1. I can pay the sitter without awkwardness.
2. I can make three dinners at once AND everyone eats together. (What are the three dinners you ask? Normal one for Ching and myself. Laurel has a pasta, mac and cheese, hot dog, chicken nuggets or grilled cheese (with fruits) and Rachel eats a continental breakfast for dinner of assorted breads, yogurt and fruit.)
3. I can avoid sex for unmentionable spans of time.
4. I have agile ninja-like driving skills on the Mass Pike.
5. I can have two conversations with both children at the same time because God forbid if one waits her turn.
6. I can change a diaper on a running almost 3 year old (as long as it's pee only).
7. I am an excellent negotiator of who gets the Ipad, my phone, or television show of choice.
8. Bribery is my bag but the key is not feeling guilty about it--and I never do.
9. I am quite good at not showing favorites between the two girls--sometimes it's quite easy because there are times that I don't like either of them.
10. I have snack ESP--not only can I anticipate another call for a snack but I know exactly what they will want such as crunchy, dairy, sugary, salty, fruit or yogurt. Sometimes it's just like throwing a piece of meat to the wolves.
After I go through this list of randoms, I feel a little better. As I think about learning about the braiding, I realize that if I can braid Laurel's hair, that will add another 10 minutes to the morning routine. Regular braids will just have to do for now.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Why does she want to hear about a chicken (which I am being for not taking a stand), a sheep (for just following and not questioning), a pig (because I might drown my sorrows in a pint of ice cream) or a dog (again, not getting one)?
I will never wish that my girls get older faster than the natural progression of Father time but God damn, we need to let go of some traditions of younger childhood.
I promise you that I am not going to complain about Rachel's attachment to her friendly Huggies. This is actually more about Laurel. Since Laurel was about 10 months old, we read stories and then would sing a couple of songs before she went to sleep. The many stories of the past have whittled down to about 15 pages in a chapter book (Our current book is Judy Blume's Tales of the Fourth Grade Nothing.) and a song. I am fine with the reading but she will not let go of this song.
Perhaps I am a little self-conscious after watching Pitch Perfect six times over the past couple of days but I do not sing well. I dread the mere four verses of Old McDonald. Why does she want to hear about a chicken (which I am being for not taking a stand), a sheep (for just following and not questioning), a pig (because I might drown my sorrows in a pint of ice cream) or a dog (again, not getting one)?
I am perplexed because she is in the stage of childhood where she wants to be older with some things and then other things, not so much. Anything Dora is gone--toys, pillows, clothes (including undies even though no one sees them) are gone. She won't even be in the same room when Rachel watches anything Dora/Diego related. But she keeps all her kindergarten art up in her room even though it's all curled at the corners. And she is okay with Disney Princesses?Sometimes a bath with her sister is fine or it could be a shower when I am absolutely banned from looking at her body. Sometimes she cares about clothes, sometimes she doesn't even care if it's clean. God this is giving me a headache.
Regardless of the perplexity that Laurel is putting me through, I need to get rid that song. I sound like a freakin' idiot which means that she will insist on it for at least another three years.
I promise you that I am not going to complain about Rachel's attachment to her friendly Huggies. This is actually more about Laurel. Since Laurel was about 10 months old, we read stories and then would sing a couple of songs before she went to sleep. The many stories of the past have whittled down to about 15 pages in a chapter book (Our current book is Judy Blume's Tales of the Fourth Grade Nothing.) and a song. I am fine with the reading but she will not let go of this song.
Perhaps I am a little self-conscious after watching Pitch Perfect six times over the past couple of days but I do not sing well. I dread the mere four verses of Old McDonald. Why does she want to hear about a chicken (which I am being for not taking a stand), a sheep (for just following and not questioning), a pig (because I might drown my sorrows in a pint of ice cream) or a dog (again, not getting one)?
I am perplexed because she is in the stage of childhood where she wants to be older with some things and then other things, not so much. Anything Dora is gone--toys, pillows, clothes (including undies even though no one sees them) are gone. She won't even be in the same room when Rachel watches anything Dora/Diego related. But she keeps all her kindergarten art up in her room even though it's all curled at the corners. And she is okay with Disney Princesses?Sometimes a bath with her sister is fine or it could be a shower when I am absolutely banned from looking at her body. Sometimes she cares about clothes, sometimes she doesn't even care if it's clean. God this is giving me a headache.
Regardless of the perplexity that Laurel is putting me through, I need to get rid that song. I sound like a freakin' idiot which means that she will insist on it for at least another three years.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
And no, just because you're his #1 booty call, doesn't make you his girlfriend.
Laurel recently acquired some silly bands with sheer joy. I thought silly bands were a thing of the past but her reaction proved me wrong. She showed me one that was in the shape of the MLB Logo. She said a certain boy's name and she was going to give it to him since he likes and plays baseball. (Another surprise...didn't know boys liked the silly bands too.)
This boy is a friend of Laurel's and when I see him as a seven year old, I can see him as a 16 year old. He is a very cute athletic boy now but give him nine years--he is going to be a very cute jock, probably in three sports. God, I hope Laurel isn't going to like him when he is 16...this leads me to think of a list of boys that I want her to stay away from when she is in her early 20's (because I just can't admit that she will be dating at 16).
1. Attractive Jock--This was a type of boy that eluded me and took advantage of my puppy googly eyes that would always offer to help. There was a guy in college that was like this to me. I worked every Monday at the library with him and every Monday evening I was disappointed that he didn't want to see me at some party. Thankfully, it didn't lead me to "just happen" to be at the same party/borderline stalker. But I was there to preen his feathers every Monday. Recently I looked at his college picture and I question my sanity...he looked like a Bud Bundy with a mono-brow. (Plucking/waxing didn't trend until the late '90's)
2. Gay Guy--Sometimes those platonic feelings just seem to lead to something else...but only for you. No, you can't switch them over...no matter how hot you are. (God, I would love to have my 1992 bum back.)
3. Non-committal fun guy--Everyone wants to be around this guy because he is funny and he does fun things but regardless of where he is in his life, having a girlfriend is not a goal. And no, just because you're his #1 booty call, doesn't make you his girlfriend.
4. Spend Thrift Guy--Yeah, there is something intriguing about a very well dressed guy with amazing taste and toys. He is always out and about getting bottle service and expensive dinners. But have you ever wondered where this money is coming from, especially if you know what he does for a living? One of three things: He is involved into something illegal. He is spending money that isn't his i.e his parents still give him a monthly allowance. (Dude, you might as well live at home too.) Or he is in so much debt that he is a little bitch to the minimum payment on his Visa and Mastercard on a regular basis. Back the frick away....
5. The Know it All--This guy is just trying to give you advice on what he would do about anything but have you ever noticed that he never asks you what you would do? Or he always has something to add to a conversation even if he isn't really part of it? Because you are polite and listen, he is going to assume that you are interested. Regardless if you want some sort of companionship, back away. He won't get the drift until you ask his advice. As he leans in to hear what he is definitely the expert on...ask him about tampons--which one would he use? This may shut him up too.
6. The Quirkster--This is the guy that he intrigues you because he is really weird and you may kind of take some sort of pity. As an adult, he may like odd things like wizardry, Dungeons and Dragons or Nickelodeon characters. After awhile the luster will start to dull. Don't even go there. Like a circus freak, you want to look away, you don't but then you wish you had. And this will be exacerbated at 2 am.
7. The Hunter--Probably my least favorite of the bunch. He will pursue you and as soon as you show some interest, he is done. You have done nothing wrong but his lack of interest questions everything during the pursuit. Then you will think you have some sort of problem when it's him. This guy is a game player and it shouldn't be that hard.
I know, Laurel...just makes you want to give up. But no need because one day you will find a guy who likes sports, smart, well-read, well dressed and a whiz on the spreadsheet. Granted you will be dating someone similar to your dad...if you break up with the new found guy, your dad will be crushed.
This boy is a friend of Laurel's and when I see him as a seven year old, I can see him as a 16 year old. He is a very cute athletic boy now but give him nine years--he is going to be a very cute jock, probably in three sports. God, I hope Laurel isn't going to like him when he is 16...this leads me to think of a list of boys that I want her to stay away from when she is in her early 20's (because I just can't admit that she will be dating at 16).
1. Attractive Jock--This was a type of boy that eluded me and took advantage of my puppy googly eyes that would always offer to help. There was a guy in college that was like this to me. I worked every Monday at the library with him and every Monday evening I was disappointed that he didn't want to see me at some party. Thankfully, it didn't lead me to "just happen" to be at the same party/borderline stalker. But I was there to preen his feathers every Monday. Recently I looked at his college picture and I question my sanity...he looked like a Bud Bundy with a mono-brow. (Plucking/waxing didn't trend until the late '90's)
2. Gay Guy--Sometimes those platonic feelings just seem to lead to something else...but only for you. No, you can't switch them over...no matter how hot you are. (God, I would love to have my 1992 bum back.)
3. Non-committal fun guy--Everyone wants to be around this guy because he is funny and he does fun things but regardless of where he is in his life, having a girlfriend is not a goal. And no, just because you're his #1 booty call, doesn't make you his girlfriend.
4. Spend Thrift Guy--Yeah, there is something intriguing about a very well dressed guy with amazing taste and toys. He is always out and about getting bottle service and expensive dinners. But have you ever wondered where this money is coming from, especially if you know what he does for a living? One of three things: He is involved into something illegal. He is spending money that isn't his i.e his parents still give him a monthly allowance. (Dude, you might as well live at home too.) Or he is in so much debt that he is a little bitch to the minimum payment on his Visa and Mastercard on a regular basis. Back the frick away....
5. The Know it All--This guy is just trying to give you advice on what he would do about anything but have you ever noticed that he never asks you what you would do? Or he always has something to add to a conversation even if he isn't really part of it? Because you are polite and listen, he is going to assume that you are interested. Regardless if you want some sort of companionship, back away. He won't get the drift until you ask his advice. As he leans in to hear what he is definitely the expert on...ask him about tampons--which one would he use? This may shut him up too.
6. The Quirkster--This is the guy that he intrigues you because he is really weird and you may kind of take some sort of pity. As an adult, he may like odd things like wizardry, Dungeons and Dragons or Nickelodeon characters. After awhile the luster will start to dull. Don't even go there. Like a circus freak, you want to look away, you don't but then you wish you had. And this will be exacerbated at 2 am.
7. The Hunter--Probably my least favorite of the bunch. He will pursue you and as soon as you show some interest, he is done. You have done nothing wrong but his lack of interest questions everything during the pursuit. Then you will think you have some sort of problem when it's him. This guy is a game player and it shouldn't be that hard.
I know, Laurel...just makes you want to give up. But no need because one day you will find a guy who likes sports, smart, well-read, well dressed and a whiz on the spreadsheet. Granted you will be dating someone similar to your dad...if you break up with the new found guy, your dad will be crushed.
Friday, July 5, 2013
I have never heard anyone say, "I love my diet!" unless they were getting paid and airbrushed.
I am in day 6 of my diet and I hate it. Actually, that should be a given--the hate. I have never heard anyone say, "I love my diet!" unless they were getting paid and air brushed.
How did I get here? That is simple...sweets, lots and lots of sweets. At the beginning of the year, I made a major life change that I wanted to seriously stick with. As a reward for that work, I rewarded myself with sweets. This snowballed into the daily intake of chocolate chip muffins (God damn, those freakin' chocolate chip muffins again!), mid-day vending machine snacks and multiple ice cream cones in the evening. While my goal of change has been quite successful, I have gained back the 12 pounds that I lost 18 months ago.
Also, my gym habit has start to slide over the past couple of months. There have been absences due to some work travel but mainly I became lazy within the workout. Kind of like when you brush your teeth right after a dental cleaning--you are back to a full two minute brush. Give that a couple of months and the brush lasts about 30 seconds. My body wasn't challenged anymore. What worked several months ago wasn't making any kind of dent in my tush.
I don't think anyone has noticed that I have gained this weight like no one really noticed when I lost it. My clothes could probably be a little bit more fitted. Also, it's amazing what a buttoned suit jacket can cover--a ripple of a gut in the front and the pudginess of the ass in the back. Regardless if noticed by others, I have noticed and I need to lose it. I am vain...I am calling it now.
My diet solution is easy. I don't do any points, pre-made meals or exclusion of certain food groups. I eat a little less and I am not eating sweets three or four times a day. I am also trying new things at the gym. Muscles that haven't been sore in quite some time, well, are. (I am very grateful that typing this entry doesn't involve lifting my arms over my head.)
Eating a little less doesn't sound that bad but there are times when I am hungry and I just wait for it to pass. There are times that I will look at the clock and figure out how much time I have until my next meal. If I could I snack on my left thigh, I would. I keep reminding myself of that.
The girls do not know that I am on a diet. I don't complain of sugar withdrawal and restricting myself to only one serving. I read a very good article about the message that it sends to young girls and how they could start to equate self worth with appearance. I would like them to see that I am eating healthy portions and exercising. Granted Rachel told me yesterday that I had a big belly button as she lifted up my shirt so perhaps she is giving me some extra motivation (as Laurel is now my temporary favorite).
I am giving myself four more weeks of this to see what happens...or at least until the waistband of my pants don't make an indentation.
How did I get here? That is simple...sweets, lots and lots of sweets. At the beginning of the year, I made a major life change that I wanted to seriously stick with. As a reward for that work, I rewarded myself with sweets. This snowballed into the daily intake of chocolate chip muffins (God damn, those freakin' chocolate chip muffins again!), mid-day vending machine snacks and multiple ice cream cones in the evening. While my goal of change has been quite successful, I have gained back the 12 pounds that I lost 18 months ago.
Also, my gym habit has start to slide over the past couple of months. There have been absences due to some work travel but mainly I became lazy within the workout. Kind of like when you brush your teeth right after a dental cleaning--you are back to a full two minute brush. Give that a couple of months and the brush lasts about 30 seconds. My body wasn't challenged anymore. What worked several months ago wasn't making any kind of dent in my tush.
I don't think anyone has noticed that I have gained this weight like no one really noticed when I lost it. My clothes could probably be a little bit more fitted. Also, it's amazing what a buttoned suit jacket can cover--a ripple of a gut in the front and the pudginess of the ass in the back. Regardless if noticed by others, I have noticed and I need to lose it. I am vain...I am calling it now.
My diet solution is easy. I don't do any points, pre-made meals or exclusion of certain food groups. I eat a little less and I am not eating sweets three or four times a day. I am also trying new things at the gym. Muscles that haven't been sore in quite some time, well, are. (I am very grateful that typing this entry doesn't involve lifting my arms over my head.)
Eating a little less doesn't sound that bad but there are times when I am hungry and I just wait for it to pass. There are times that I will look at the clock and figure out how much time I have until my next meal. If I could I snack on my left thigh, I would. I keep reminding myself of that.
The girls do not know that I am on a diet. I don't complain of sugar withdrawal and restricting myself to only one serving. I read a very good article about the message that it sends to young girls and how they could start to equate self worth with appearance. I would like them to see that I am eating healthy portions and exercising. Granted Rachel told me yesterday that I had a big belly button as she lifted up my shirt so perhaps she is giving me some extra motivation (as Laurel is now my temporary favorite).
I am giving myself four more weeks of this to see what happens...or at least until the waistband of my pants don't make an indentation.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
But holy shit, where was the vow that said, "I don't know what I am getting myself into but I will work hard. Sometimes more, sometimes less and you have got to be okay with that."
Dear Ching,
Ten years ago as I became your wife in full bridal regalia, I had no idea what I was getting into when repeating those vows. I knew that I "had" you but "holding"--Oh, Christ. There would be better and worse days---I like the better days. I understood that I didn't want to be poor---I preferred richer. I didn't want us to be sick---again, healthy is good. But holy shit, where was the vow that said, "I don't know what I am getting myself into but I will work hard. Sometimes more, sometimes less and you have got to be okay with that."
I am not sure why that last vow isn't included. It applies to everyone getting married. Even more so if this isn't your first because you want a do-over. And if a former spouse has past, perhaps you don't want to bring that up. "I had a very successful marriage...but then he/she died." It sounds sad and a bit creepy.
I knew that I loved you when we got married but there was so many unknowns (even though we had lived together for a year and been dating for an additional two). And apparently all of these unknowns will keep popping up until I die because I did promise the long haul. Over time I have found some of the surprises like the fact that you constantly lose your wallet, work ID or bus pass. Your lactose intolerance seems to constantly boggle my mind. And what is up with the lack of belt on the weekend? Your pants/shorts are so droopy...I know you like to think you have a shred of inner gangster, but that's not really you.
But then there were unknowns that I welcomed. You are wonderful with the girls with your involvement. I guess I was a pessimist because that shocked the hell out of me. Any crisis can be solved by mapping out the solution with a spreadsheet. We were able to tolerate both the crazy neighbor and the criminal nanny stalker. And we outlasted that terrible real estate market---who knew that we were buying at the absolute high? Perhaps we should have just bought a lottery ticket that day.
Even though we have been married for 10, it doesn't guarantee another 10. I will still work at it...I am pretty sure you will too. (No one makes a meatloaf like me.) If we don't, I am pretty sure Rachel might bite me or something. Laurel will just lock herself in her room.
Thank you and here's to several more.
Warm Regards,
Your Wife,
Jude Carlson-Wang
Ten years ago as I became your wife in full bridal regalia, I had no idea what I was getting into when repeating those vows. I knew that I "had" you but "holding"--Oh, Christ. There would be better and worse days---I like the better days. I understood that I didn't want to be poor---I preferred richer. I didn't want us to be sick---again, healthy is good. But holy shit, where was the vow that said, "I don't know what I am getting myself into but I will work hard. Sometimes more, sometimes less and you have got to be okay with that."
I am not sure why that last vow isn't included. It applies to everyone getting married. Even more so if this isn't your first because you want a do-over. And if a former spouse has past, perhaps you don't want to bring that up. "I had a very successful marriage...but then he/she died." It sounds sad and a bit creepy.
I knew that I loved you when we got married but there was so many unknowns (even though we had lived together for a year and been dating for an additional two). And apparently all of these unknowns will keep popping up until I die because I did promise the long haul. Over time I have found some of the surprises like the fact that you constantly lose your wallet, work ID or bus pass. Your lactose intolerance seems to constantly boggle my mind. And what is up with the lack of belt on the weekend? Your pants/shorts are so droopy...I know you like to think you have a shred of inner gangster, but that's not really you.
But then there were unknowns that I welcomed. You are wonderful with the girls with your involvement. I guess I was a pessimist because that shocked the hell out of me. Any crisis can be solved by mapping out the solution with a spreadsheet. We were able to tolerate both the crazy neighbor and the criminal nanny stalker. And we outlasted that terrible real estate market---who knew that we were buying at the absolute high? Perhaps we should have just bought a lottery ticket that day.
Even though we have been married for 10, it doesn't guarantee another 10. I will still work at it...I am pretty sure you will too. (No one makes a meatloaf like me.) If we don't, I am pretty sure Rachel might bite me or something. Laurel will just lock herself in her room.
Thank you and here's to several more.
Warm Regards,
Your Wife,
Jude Carlson-Wang
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Again, I am not the fun parent--I am the one that keeps everyone fed, clothed (in clean clothes) and soothed in the middle of the night.
Laurel's last day of school was on a Wednesday. She didn't start camp until the following Monday. We had two vacant days and I immediately labeled them, "Laurel and Mom's Two Days of Fun! (Fun!)". With practicality aside that either Ching or me had to stay home with her, I wanted to focus on the potential of fun. Again, I am not the fun parent--I am the one that keeps everyone fed, clothed (in clean clothes) and soothed in the middle of the night. Over the past few months of having at least one kid with me as I run some errands trying to pass it off as fun, I started feeling like a turd about it. I can be fun!
So I told Laurel that the next two days were ours and we could do fun things. I built it up so much that I even thought of getting T-shirts made...but I never pulled the trigger. Thankfully Laurel never brought it up so I let it slide.
The first event was going to Target--this is an errand but it was an errand that just involved picking things up for her upcoming summer camp. She didn't need much as we followed a list that she made. The funny thing to me was that I was standing there with a willing Amex saying, "Is there anything else that you need?" Nope..she had her two new beach towels, flip flops, spray sunblock, water bottle---she was all set. She clearly is not at the age to take advantage of the willing Amex. I tried to wallow in that moment since the clock is ticking down to me being used for my credit line.
The next was a rite of passage--she wanted to get her ears pierced. She mentioned getting her ears pierced several weeks ago and as I was thinking about it, she had that accident on the playground. (June 6-If Laurel and Rachel were Larry and Ralph, I would ask Ching to deal with this) I decided if she could go through that, she could get her ears pierced. In the mall we are currently in, there was a place where you could get tattoos and all body piercings right next to your family friendly Old Country Buffet. I have heard excellent things about this place but I just couldn't justify bringing her to a place where appendages other than lobes were pierced. We went to Claire's across the street at another mall. Laurel was very brave and prepared---she watched a You Tube video of another 7 year old getting her ears done. I tried not to focus on the fact that Laurel was getting older as she was so brave and beautiful. What I was focusing on was the price. When I got my ears pierced, it was $8. Granted this was in 1984. Now, it's $55! The piercing with cleansing solution is free--the earrings range from $40-55 and of course, they do recommend gold because they heal faster. I feel like a complete asshole wanting to put something cheaper in her ear but alas, we pick plain yellow gold balls. (I did have a minor win--I did not allow Hello Kitty studs--thankfully those were a cheap stainless steel.)
So with ears pierced, we were off to our next adventure albeit a small one. Laurel had a book gift certificate to a small store and she wanted to get the latest Diary of the Wimpy Kid. I am trying to get Laurel to do things on her own like small purchases, ordering at a restaurant, etc. She gets to the counter and kind of looks at the cashier like she was going to read Laurel's mind. (Jesus Laurel...Come on!) I had to initiate the process...small steps.
We were then on our way to Plaster Fun Time. (I failed to mentioned that the weather during these two days absolutely stunk--rainy.) Initially we were going to get four plaster letters, paint them fun colors and hang the word on her bedroom wall. But we decided that we would just paint a small butterfly jewelry box for any future earrings. I was in charge of the bottom of the box and Laurel got to paint the butterfly--if I didn't tell you this, you would be able to tell by the vast array of color choices. I used only four colors while Laurel used about 14 to make the most schizophrenic butterfly ever. Laurel tends to be this way while painting....to this day, I still have pink faced, blue haired Diego on my dresser. (Mother's Day 2009).
By this time, she was hungry and, oh what luck, McDonald's is across the street. While I could complain that I am still working off that meal at the gym, I will not. I was just so pleased that we just chatted...there was no request to look at my phone. Yay!
We then went to get pedicures. I opened this Pandora's Box over a year ago and I am not sure if I should regret doing that. I don't want to think this is a regular occurrence because it certainly isn't with me. I tend to have a hard time relaxing because as I am watching her reading her book and being pampered, I am also wondering if she should be here, if she is paying attention to the nice lady digging at her toes and wondering if any other patron is looking at me like a sucker.
We checked out her art that is on display for the summer at the Newton Education Center. I was very proud...perhaps I should shut the hell up about her paint color usage.
Our next idea is to go home and watch a movie and then perhaps catch the sequel in the theater tomorrow. This didn't go so well. The movie was Monsters, Inc. which would make the sequel, Monsters University. Laurel wasn't afraid of the monsters. She loved the intro of all the main characters but she gets very agitated when conflict arises which just happens to be the story. So we turned it off and watched Gravity Falls. I actually used it as an opportunity to rest my eyes. This was Day #1.
The next day, Laurel wanted to watch a movie, one that didn't bother her. So we watched Charlotte's Web and ate donuts. It was nice and cozy. Also, it helped that while Julia Roberts was in the movie, it was just her voice. A couple of decades ago, she seemed cool. Now she just bugs the piss out of me.
I could tell Laurel was getting bored with me. I tried to woo her with McDonald's again. She took the McD's but decided that she wanted to go over to friend's house. After a day and a half, she dumped me.
I had the afternoon to myself and my Amex appreciated the rest. While we didn't make it the whole two days, we had a very good day and a half and I am totally fine with that.
So I told Laurel that the next two days were ours and we could do fun things. I built it up so much that I even thought of getting T-shirts made...but I never pulled the trigger. Thankfully Laurel never brought it up so I let it slide.
The first event was going to Target--this is an errand but it was an errand that just involved picking things up for her upcoming summer camp. She didn't need much as we followed a list that she made. The funny thing to me was that I was standing there with a willing Amex saying, "Is there anything else that you need?" Nope..she had her two new beach towels, flip flops, spray sunblock, water bottle---she was all set. She clearly is not at the age to take advantage of the willing Amex. I tried to wallow in that moment since the clock is ticking down to me being used for my credit line.
The next was a rite of passage--she wanted to get her ears pierced. She mentioned getting her ears pierced several weeks ago and as I was thinking about it, she had that accident on the playground. (June 6-If Laurel and Rachel were Larry and Ralph, I would ask Ching to deal with this) I decided if she could go through that, she could get her ears pierced. In the mall we are currently in, there was a place where you could get tattoos and all body piercings right next to your family friendly Old Country Buffet. I have heard excellent things about this place but I just couldn't justify bringing her to a place where appendages other than lobes were pierced. We went to Claire's across the street at another mall. Laurel was very brave and prepared---she watched a You Tube video of another 7 year old getting her ears done. I tried not to focus on the fact that Laurel was getting older as she was so brave and beautiful. What I was focusing on was the price. When I got my ears pierced, it was $8. Granted this was in 1984. Now, it's $55! The piercing with cleansing solution is free--the earrings range from $40-55 and of course, they do recommend gold because they heal faster. I feel like a complete asshole wanting to put something cheaper in her ear but alas, we pick plain yellow gold balls. (I did have a minor win--I did not allow Hello Kitty studs--thankfully those were a cheap stainless steel.)
So with ears pierced, we were off to our next adventure albeit a small one. Laurel had a book gift certificate to a small store and she wanted to get the latest Diary of the Wimpy Kid. I am trying to get Laurel to do things on her own like small purchases, ordering at a restaurant, etc. She gets to the counter and kind of looks at the cashier like she was going to read Laurel's mind. (Jesus Laurel...Come on!) I had to initiate the process...small steps.
We were then on our way to Plaster Fun Time. (I failed to mentioned that the weather during these two days absolutely stunk--rainy.) Initially we were going to get four plaster letters, paint them fun colors and hang the word on her bedroom wall. But we decided that we would just paint a small butterfly jewelry box for any future earrings. I was in charge of the bottom of the box and Laurel got to paint the butterfly--if I didn't tell you this, you would be able to tell by the vast array of color choices. I used only four colors while Laurel used about 14 to make the most schizophrenic butterfly ever. Laurel tends to be this way while painting....to this day, I still have pink faced, blue haired Diego on my dresser. (Mother's Day 2009).
By this time, she was hungry and, oh what luck, McDonald's is across the street. While I could complain that I am still working off that meal at the gym, I will not. I was just so pleased that we just chatted...there was no request to look at my phone. Yay!
We then went to get pedicures. I opened this Pandora's Box over a year ago and I am not sure if I should regret doing that. I don't want to think this is a regular occurrence because it certainly isn't with me. I tend to have a hard time relaxing because as I am watching her reading her book and being pampered, I am also wondering if she should be here, if she is paying attention to the nice lady digging at her toes and wondering if any other patron is looking at me like a sucker.
We checked out her art that is on display for the summer at the Newton Education Center. I was very proud...perhaps I should shut the hell up about her paint color usage.
Our next idea is to go home and watch a movie and then perhaps catch the sequel in the theater tomorrow. This didn't go so well. The movie was Monsters, Inc. which would make the sequel, Monsters University. Laurel wasn't afraid of the monsters. She loved the intro of all the main characters but she gets very agitated when conflict arises which just happens to be the story. So we turned it off and watched Gravity Falls. I actually used it as an opportunity to rest my eyes. This was Day #1.
The next day, Laurel wanted to watch a movie, one that didn't bother her. So we watched Charlotte's Web and ate donuts. It was nice and cozy. Also, it helped that while Julia Roberts was in the movie, it was just her voice. A couple of decades ago, she seemed cool. Now she just bugs the piss out of me.
I could tell Laurel was getting bored with me. I tried to woo her with McDonald's again. She took the McD's but decided that she wanted to go over to friend's house. After a day and a half, she dumped me.
I had the afternoon to myself and my Amex appreciated the rest. While we didn't make it the whole two days, we had a very good day and a half and I am totally fine with that.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Works for me but I won't equate a colon cleanse to world peace.
Jee-sus Christ.
"Mom, I never want you to help me again!"
This happened at 6:30 this morning. Laurel's alarm didn't go off at 6:24 like she wanted. Yesterday morning she asked me to re-set her alarm to 6:24 because she needed an extra six minutes for her "getting ready for camp" routine. Last night I forgot and since Laurel feel asleep before her head hit the pillow, there was no reminder.
So she is in a mad flurry and I calmly step aside as she gives me evil eyes. As Laurel's smile will brighten her face, her evil eye look gives me flashbacks of Children of the Corn and thoroughly scares the shit out of me. As she sighs and humphs around, I briefly apologized. Not for forgetting, but for giving her that feeling that she is immediately behind.
Over the next 40 minutes, she softens. No longer am I the bad guy as she dresses, eats, brushes her hair and cleans her pierced ears. After her tasks are complete, she enthusiastically explains to me some stupid Annoying Orange joke. She then tells me how awkward the story is and I refrain from telling her that it's indeed awkward that she is not using the word awkward in the correct context. I let this word slide. I will start riding her ass when she starts using the word literally like she is a God damn Kardashian. Before I leave, she lets me put her hair in a high ponytail and takes my suggestion that it's time to get her bag packed and sneakers on. Look at that--she is back to letting me help.
I really have no rhyme or reason why I let her explode and then gather herself as I remained calm. Is it my colon cleanse? Perhaps because I am not full of shit anymore, I tend to be calmer around day to day shit? Works for me but I won't equate a colon cleanse to world peace. That could get contrived and awkward.
"Mom, I never want you to help me again!"
This happened at 6:30 this morning. Laurel's alarm didn't go off at 6:24 like she wanted. Yesterday morning she asked me to re-set her alarm to 6:24 because she needed an extra six minutes for her "getting ready for camp" routine. Last night I forgot and since Laurel feel asleep before her head hit the pillow, there was no reminder.
So she is in a mad flurry and I calmly step aside as she gives me evil eyes. As Laurel's smile will brighten her face, her evil eye look gives me flashbacks of Children of the Corn and thoroughly scares the shit out of me. As she sighs and humphs around, I briefly apologized. Not for forgetting, but for giving her that feeling that she is immediately behind.
Over the next 40 minutes, she softens. No longer am I the bad guy as she dresses, eats, brushes her hair and cleans her pierced ears. After her tasks are complete, she enthusiastically explains to me some stupid Annoying Orange joke. She then tells me how awkward the story is and I refrain from telling her that it's indeed awkward that she is not using the word awkward in the correct context. I let this word slide. I will start riding her ass when she starts using the word literally like she is a God damn Kardashian. Before I leave, she lets me put her hair in a high ponytail and takes my suggestion that it's time to get her bag packed and sneakers on. Look at that--she is back to letting me help.
I really have no rhyme or reason why I let her explode and then gather herself as I remained calm. Is it my colon cleanse? Perhaps because I am not full of shit anymore, I tend to be calmer around day to day shit? Works for me but I won't equate a colon cleanse to world peace. That could get contrived and awkward.
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