I Need a Pause Button

Spencer's dance recital is this weekend and all I can think about is how it feels like it was just yesterday that I wrote this post about her starting ballet lessons.  How has it time for her recital already?  How has  seven months passed by like it's at warp speed?  Where is the pause button, because I really need it?

I was thinking about this all day yesterday when I remembered something I'd written on here in the early days of this blog about my love/hate relationship with my DVR.  You can read the whole post here, but one of the snippets caught my eye:

And then other times I want to take my remote my control and press pause on life.  The really beautiful moments keep flying by, they never last long enough and I only get to experience it once. With a DVR, it's okay if you miss something because the phone rings- you can either rewind it and watch it again or you can press pause and it will stay frozen in time until you to return.  If you really loved something you watched, well, you can rewind and start it all over again.  There's no such thing as a lost moment with a DVR.  Why can't I do this with life?  Please, smart geniuses at MIT, invent one of these mechanisms for me. 

It seems as though those geniuses at MIT haven't really come through for me yet.  Maybe I should have made my request to Cal Tech?  I was doing my regular morning blogosphere perusal yesterday when I read this on one of my favorite blogs.  It just confirmed to me that I'm not the only one who can't believe how fast these years are flying by.  I would really love for a physicist to explain to me why in your childhood life seems to creep by inch by inch and then once you've reached that all important goal of being a "grown up," it starts to go faster than the blink of an eye.  It doesn't seem fair.  I guess I need to remind myself of this sometimes:

(print I recently bought)

Fair is Where You Get Cotton Candy.  Words to live by!

The Good, the Bad, and the Only

Most days I rarely ever think about the fact I'm a single parent.  I'm always of aware it, like in the same sense I'm always aware that I have blue eyes and curly hair, but it's not something on which I fixate. I'm sure a lot of it has to do with that I've never known anything else- it's not as if I started off as part of a duo and then went to being just me.  In many aspects, but not all, I think that would be even harder; to get used to someone being there, helping out, making tough decisions, etc., only to wind up having to do it all by yourself.  And if I'm being completely honest, there are many times I have actually thought that being a single parent is sometimes easier, especially for a control freak know-it-all like myself! 

But recently, I've felt things start to shift a little.  More and more I'm thinking about how exhausting it is to be just me, the only, the good parent, the bad parent; just me.  And by exhausting, I mean completely and utterly draining of all my mental faculties; exhausting.  Spencer is extremely precocious and very strong willed. And by strong willed, I mean possessing the inner strength and willpower of a Buddhist monk on his 20th day of a fast; strong willed.  Most days I appreciate this about her and I celebrate that I see so much of myself in my little girl.  But then there are other days, like yesterday, when I want to lock myself in the bathroom and cry like a baby because I can't stand being the "bad guy" for one more second.

I am a control freak, yes, but it's not in my nature to be the constant disciplinarian.  I can remember being a little girl and telling my mom that I was going to let my daughter eat whatever she wanted for dinner and if she just wanted to eat cookies, that would be FINE with me!  Cue last night:  Spencer has her head down on the table crying and crying that I don't love.  Why?  Because I said she couldn't get up until she finished her mac-n-cheese.  Spaghetti was her first meal and then she informed me that she didn't want spaghetti, she wanted mac-n-cheese.  So I gave in.  Probably not the smartest decision, but in the end, I think it's more important that she eats then trying to make another issue out of something.  Well, three bites into her second meal, I hear "I'm fuuulll."

I counted to three, took a deep breath, and told her that she wasn't getting up until she had eaten at least half of what was on her plate.  And that's when the full on you don't love me, no one loves me, theatrics began. I told her that I will always love, no matter what she does, I will never stop loving her- just because I'm not happy with her or I'm making her do something she doesn't want to do, doesn't mean I don't love her- because I will never stop loving her. Twenty minutes later and she's still sitting there, giving me the same look I know I gave my mom many moons ago.  Here's the thing- logically, I know that she's just three years old and she doesn't really understand that the words she's saying to me are like little daggers to my heart- but, every time she said "you don't love me anymore?" my heart broke a little.  I wished there was someone there with me to help share that burden, to be the bad parent, if not instead of me, than at least along with me.

Eventually, she ate her food and then when she was finished she asked me for an Ogre Bar, aka, a Shrek granola bar, which made me laugh and laugh.  Everything was fine again except that I felt like I'd been through a war.  I don't like that I'm so rarely the fun parent- the mom that I thought I'd be. I know that a lot of what I used to envision was seen through immature eyes and that being a good parent means making rules and then enforcing them.  But every now and then I wish that there was someone else to help me do those things. 

I think part of what is getting to me isn't the current, but the future.  Is this how it's going to be 10 years from now when she wants to wear some inappropriate outfit, something I used to fight with my mom about ALL the time?  I can see my past words, something along the lines of "I'll always let my daughter wear what she feels comfortable wearing and NOT what I feel comfortable with her wearing" coming back to haunt me.  Haunt. Me. 

The World Keeps Spinning

January and I are still on bad terms.  This week, a friend's mom passed away very suddenly and so did the dad of one of my brother's friends.  It's also the anniversary of this wonderful man's death. Dying, Death, The End.  I don't like any of it, in fact, I hate it.

It's not as if my world has stopped spinning because of the loss of these people- and that's the part I can't wrap my head around.  For some people, the world as they know it is over and it will never be the same again- but for me, nothing has really changed.  Yes, I'm sad, but my life is going on as it normally would.  I hate that we can't avoid death- I mean I really hate.  We hear of someone dying and it causes us momentary pause before feeling the sense of relief that it isn't happening to us.  But the thing is, it will happen to us one day.

Maybe it's because I lost so many people close to me in such a short period of time, that I'm keenly aware of the life altering that happens when someone you love dies.  It doesn't seem fair that your life is forever changed while the person in the car next to you is oblivious to the fact that world has stopped for someone else. Death turns life into a before and after.

Do You Know What's in Your Backyard?

 

Image Source

Yesterday, Spencer found the mother of all caterpillars. I have never seen one that gigantic before- it was like The Very Hungry Caterpillar on steroids multiplied by 100.  We were outside and she was playing in the backyard when she squealed with delight that she'd found a caterpillar.  Before I could process that information, she picked it up and brought it over to me.  I was still baffled that she saw a caterpillar in the grass, recognized it for what it was, and quite clearly told me what she had found.  Her entire knowledge of them is solely from the aforementioned book, which doesn't exactly look like real live ones.

And then I see that she's holding this enormous looking thing that just couldn't be an actual caterpillar.  My inner insectaphobia, aka, entomophobia, was screaming for me to tell her to put it down, not to touch it, and never it up again. This is seriously what it looked like, only bigger!

Image Source

But she is such a little sponge and I don't want her to be afraid of of bugs, insects, spiders, and other things that creep.  I remembered reading this post on Dooce and I didn't want Spencer to soak in any of my irrational fears, etc.  So I kept my mouth shut.

Well, that lasted about 2.2 seconds because she tried to hand it to me and the voice in my head escaped through my mouth and said DO NOT PUT THAT ON ME!  I then calmly told her we needed to put it back in the grass so that we didn't hurt it.  (Good one, right?!)  And I tried to explain that you have to be very gentle with caterpillars because they are fragile and even if you don't mean to hurt them, it can still happen.  Shockingly, she put it back in the grass!  I bent down and got a closer look it.  I really thought that it might have been a toy shaped like a caterpillar, because it was that big.  It wasn't until I watched it start to move it's antennae and scoot away that I was finally convinced of it's authenticity. 

Spencer has always been a little mimic of me, but recently it's taken on a new life of it's own.  I have to watch every teeny tiny thing that I do and say because chances are that she will do and say the same thing.  And I want her to be her own person.  My parents never even told me who they were voting for until I was in high school because they wanted me to form my own opinions and not be swayed theirs.  I found that infuriating, but now I'm starting to get it.  It's hard to be a good influence without stifling them. Here is my question: where do you draw the line between being a positive role model and being domineering?

Two Weeks Notice

"If a tree falls in a forest and there's no one there to hear it, does it make a sound?"  I think that best describes how I feel about blogging and my real life; if I blog something, it becomes reality, but if I don't, then I can delude myself into a lovely state of denial.  So here it is: my Spencer started preschool.

I've tried to start this post a hundred times and then I'd get all weepy and quickly abandon it.  Writing it all down meant that I was officially the mother of a three year old in preschool and I wasn't quite prepared for such a thing.  But now that we are two weeks into it, I'm now ready to say, "Hi, my name is Katie and I'm the mother of a three year in preschool."

I really wasn't expecting to feel so emotional about this, but as the first day of school approached, I felt increasingly more sad.  I mean, two days a week for three hours a day isn't exactly a lengthy separation, so why was I freaking out? There were never any doubt in my mind that Spencer would go to preschool this year- in fact, I'd started researching programs well over a year ago. I couldn't be happier with the school she's going to; I love their approach to learning, the staff, that it's strictly a preschool and not part of daycare system, and the actual building itself.  But I still felt/feel kinda heartsick.

I never really understood homeschooling your children.  Getting out and going to school provides them  a well balanced and rounded education and it gives moms a few hours to themselves to get some things done, maybe take a well deserved nap.  It probably didn't hurt that I loved going to school and would try and fake not having a temperature if I was sick so I wouldn't miss a day. (Crazy kid!)  So, naturally, I thought I would love Spencer going to school just as much as I loved going; wrong. I firmly believe one of the best gifts a parent can give to their child is a love of learning and a great education.  But in the back of mind, I'm starting to understand why some families decide to literally take on that challenge themselves.  For me, I'm jealous; I'm jealous, green with envy, of Spencer's teacher.  I want to watch her learn things and I want to see that look of excitement she gets on her face when she's learned something new.I feel like I'm missing out on something.

Even so, I'm very aware my own limitations and I know going to this preschool is what's best for Spencer.  And she loves it!  Every morning when she wakes up, she asks me "is this my school day?" And when I say yes, she always tells me "that's my favorite day!"  To which I jokingly respond, "what am I, chopped liver?" And with her most serious voice and you're-crazy-mom look, she tells me "No silly goose, you're Mommy."  It's our little morning routine.

Spencer has adjusted marvelously.  Actually, there was no adjustment for her, I walked her in on the first day and she went right into her room, sat down, and waved goodbye; no tears, no nothing.  It was as if she'd been doing this her whole life. I, on the other hand, had to fight back my tears until I made it to the car.  And then I went Sara's house so she could comfort me, haha! 

Without further ado, here are some of the pictures I took of Spencer on the first day of school.

 

 

This Hurts Me More Than it Hurts You

I never really understood that phrase until tonight, and I've heard it quite a few times. My mom would almost always say that to me when I got a spanking.  I used to think, no it doesn't, I'm the one getting spanked, you're the one who's doing it, and if does hurt you, it's just your hand and that's because your spanking me.  She would say something like, you will understand when you get older and became a parent. Well, tonight I finally understand, and no, it's not because I spanked Spencer; blame the inch long splinter embedded in Spencer's toe.

Yesterday, Spencer told me that she wanted me to kiss her toe- it had a boo-boo on it.  I kissed her toe, looking at her boo-boo, and I saw what appeared to be a little cut that had already scabbed over. When I was examining it, she told me she needed a "boo-boo baid" (Spencer's word for band-aid) and I put a smiling Sponge Bob on her toe.  All was right again.

So tonight, she told me again that I needed to kiss her toe. This seemed strange to me, it was just a little cut, her toe shouldn't still be hurting.  I had her lay down and I flipped the lamp shade up so the light was shining right on us.  I looked closely, but it appeared the same as it did the night before- a small cut.  But when I touched it, Spencer yelled "OWWWW." So I got my little LED flash light out and examined her toe, but when I touched it again, it started to ooze a little and Spencer began crying for real. The bright flash light revealed that the scabbed over cut was, in fact, a deep splinter.

I immediately flashed back to when I was kid and my dad would take out my splinters- those are not pleasant memories.  I used to think splinter extraction was a form of torture and when I'd get one, I wouldn't tell anyone until it was already infected, thus making said extraction even worse.  And now I was going to have to do the same thing to Spencer.  I got out my little medical kit, sterilized the tweezers, and fixed the light so I could clearly see what I was doing.

The entire process took about five minutes, but it felt more like 50.  It wouldn't have taken even half that time, but I was trying to be extra gentle, which only only made it worse because it meant I was going super slow.  Finally, I figured out that it would be in everyone's best interest to get the splinter out sooner rather than later; as it turns out, the gentle way is a lot more painful than the quick way.

Spencer screamed the entire time, her constant howling refrain was "don't hurt me mommy, please stop, please, please, please."  It broke my heart. That's when I heard myself saying to her, "this hurts me more than it hurts you."  I tried explain that I had to get the splinter out or it would hurt even worse because it would cause an infection.  Of course, a two, almost three, year old doesn't really understand this concept.  But I just wanted her know that I wasn't doing it to hurt her- I was trying to prevent her from experiencing even more pain further down the road.  She crying, I was crying, and I would have given anything to not be the one causing her tears.

When it was all over, I scooped her into my lap and rocked her until she stopped crying.  I kissed her toe and she looked me and said "don't cry mommy, it's okay."  And with that, all was forgotten and she was back to her normal self.  I, however, was not.  It's like I was hit with an enlightening lightening bolt.  I realized that when you love someone as much as a mother loves her child, sometimes you have to do things that they might not understand, for their own good.  Even though you may not want to and you feel terribly, it's something that has to be done- because you them.  And yes, it will most likely hurt you more than it will hurt them.  Man, this motherhood stuff is tricky sometimes!  Who would have thought a splinter could have taught me so much?

Fun, and Other Such Things

Having fun with my new camera and 3-D chalk. And folks, that chalk is actually 3-D, like, for real

It Came Upon an Afternoon Not So Clear

I woke up this morning feeling like a seven year old on Christmas.  After months and months of saving my money, today it would be here!  Of course, this day would have happened much sooner if not for the Great Electronic Deaths of 2009- when both my TV and my laptop had to be replaced.  (The TV lived a long happy life, unfortunately, a Great Force of Destruction...Spencer... armed with orange juice killed my laptop two weeks before Christmas. 

Since I'm about six months removed from those incidents, I can now think about them without having my blood pressure sky rocket into the stratosphere.  In fact, I can even see the bright side.  If I hadn't been saving my money for this large expenditure, I wouldn't have had the funds to replace the TV and the laptop, which, to be quite honest with you, might have been the death of me.

So these were pretty large set backs that brought me to tears more than once, but I never lost hope.  It's been 11 months since I've had a hair cut by someone other than myself, eight months since I've left the greater Richmond area to see any of my friends, eight months since I've eaten at a restaurant with anyone other than family, seven months since I've purchased a magazine, and six months since I've bought myself anything without a gift card (thank goodness for my Swagbucks and those Amazon gift cards!)

Basically, this self-deprivation has been going on too, too, too long. And just when I thought I would never have enough money, The Fates took pity on me and felt bad for all they had put me through.  I received an unexpected gift in the mail on the same day that Amazon sent me an email alert telling me that the object of my affection was going to be available at a discounted price for the next week.  The combination of those two events gave me just enough money!  Not being one to ignore "the signs," I acted with all due haste and the order was made.

These past few days I've felt just like I used to when I was a little girl counting down the days to until Santa would deliver a plethora of elfin-made toys under my tree.  I compulsively used the tracking number to check the status and location of my order and then last night "it" told me she had arrived in Richmond- which meant today would be The Day.  In true Katie Fashion, luck was not exactly on my side, and the UPS Man did not ring the doorbell until 5:05pm, just as the clouds began to darken and the rain started to gently fall. (Even though it got to Richmond LAST NIGHT!)  I signed for it, shut the door, sat my butt down right there on the floor and opened her up.

I am now the proud owner of a brand new Canon 50D, body only.  I wanted to take pictures right away, but that was not to be; I had to charge the battery. UGH!  And then life things/obligations happened- dinner and bath time for Spencer, etc., followed by the previous sprinkling of rain turning into a large thunderstorm that had to start just as the life things/obligations were over.  So I haven't had much time to learn and play around yet- in fact,  I only took 14 pictures!  But from what I have done/seen/read, I have a lot to learn and then some. While a few of the features are the same as on my Rebel Xti, there's a bunch that's new and different.  It's going to take me awhile to really get to know all of the ins and outs, but I am A-OK with that!

Now it's dark and Spencer is sleeping, okay, that's not true, she's fighting sleep with all of the strength she possess, and I'm realizing that I'm going to have to wait until tomorrow morning to really take any good pictures.  I've waited this long, I think I can make it another 10 hours, haha!  Here are a few of the pictures that I took this evening. They are SOOTC (straight out of the camera), which means there's not post-edit work. 

 

The Wonder Years

I'm in the midst of a whirlwind of busy that resembles something out of The Wonder Years.  Last night was my brother's graduation party and it was all kinds of make-me-feel-so-old.  He and a few of his volleyball friends had a joint pool party and the place was teeming with teenagers all about to embark on the best four years of their lives.  You could actually smell their excitement.  Because they rented a pool, the party didn't start until 8:30pm, which in the world of Spencer, is pretty late.  Add playing in the pool and two chocolate cupcakes into the mix, and you have the perfect formula for the longest night of my life.

Tomorrow is my mom's birthday and then Wednesday my baby bro actually graduates from high school at 10am in the morning, followed by a family celebratory lunch.  I get tired just reading that sentence.  So that's where I am right now...  I'm trying to be on my best behavior, but if I hear 525,600 Minutes, one more time, I just might scream.

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

I feel like Oprah!  Today's Show Us Your Life is about our favorite things/things that make you happy. It might appear as though that's the same thing, and there is some overlap, but my favorite things aren't always what makes me the most happy, and vice versa.  These days, what makes me the happiest usually has something to do with Spencer and my favorites things are usually about/for me.

 My Favorite Things:

• Diet Coke-  Without my morning DC, I am a friend to no one, ha!
• My DVR - Mine is currently not working and it's killing me, especially since we can't watch Dora whenever we (Spencer) want.
• My Camera - I got a Canon Rebel when Spencer was born and I have never been more thankful for any possession in my life.  The pictures I've taken with it are so important to me and I'm so grateful that I have so many amazing pictures of Spencer.
•  The Internet/Blogosphere/Laptop - Since I'm the worst scrapbooker in the world, having this blog to document our lives has been so wonderful.  And the community and friends I've made has really been such an amazing source of support and information. 
• My Mema's wedding ring.
• Pull-n-Peel Twizzlers
• Rainbow flip flops that are worn in - I have a very high arch and they are the only flops that provide it enough support. But it takes about two weeks of constant wear for them to get "just right."
• Vintagey Accessories
• My Kappa Kappa Gamma pin and anything with the Fleur-de-Lis - they remind me of all my wonderful college memories
• Fiber Wig mascara - If I can only wear one item of makeup, this is it.
• 100 Calorie Chocolate Covered Pretzels - The perfect combination of sweet and salty without many calories
• My Papa's Bible - It has all of his little notations written in it and marked passages that were important to him.

Things That Make Me Happy 

She makes me the happiest.

• When Spencer takes a nap
• When Spencer tells me she loves me and that I'm her "best best friend in the world."
• Successfully making a trip to Target, or any other store for that matter, without having any major meltdowns or temper tantrums where people are staring at us.
• When people tell me that Spencer has nice manners.
• Thunderstorms
• Pedicures
• Completing the Sunday crossword puzzle
• Getting to read a really good book that has nothing to do with school
• Getting to see my W&M friends
•   Sappy romantic comedies with happy endings
• March Madness
• Unexpected surprises in the mail
• When Spencer takes off her shoes, puts her feet in my face, and says "Smeeeeell!"

So what are your favorite things and/or what makes you happy?

She's a Big Girl Now

This time last year my little Spencer looked like this.

She was just starting to lose her baby face and I knew it wouldn't be much longer before she was a little girl instead of my baby. And now it's happened.

It's all happening too fast for me.

My Mom

 Me, my Mom, and my Mema- the last picture ever taken of us all together.

My Mom has lived in the same town for her entire life;  all of her homes have been within a 10 mile radius of each other and within a 5 mile radius of her parent’s old house.  My grandparents were very strict with her; strict even by the standards of other devout Baptists circa the 1950's.  She was not allowed to go to any school dances, concerts, wear makeup or skirts that were more than one inch above her knee (my Papa often brought out his measuring tape if there was any doubt in his mind). My Mema made almost all of her clothes for her until she was a teenager- then my mom was old enough to get a job and she decided that she'd use her money to buy the clothes she wanted.  Although they weren't really the outfits she wanted since they had to conform to the above mentioned rules.

My mom would tell me these stories over and over again as I was growing up, as if she were willing me to understand how different her life had been from mine. I couldn't believe she was talking about the same people who were my Mema and Papa. I never understood why she always followed every single one of their rules- didn't she ever just want to be herself?  But she never did; my mom was the quintessential good daughter who truly loved and respected her parents.  If they said no, she wouldn't do it. 

Her parents were both larger than life types, with dominant personalities, whereas my mother was more submissive and eager to please.  She never rebelled against them or disobeyed,  always showing them the proper respect.  But she dreamed of one day becoming a mother and doing all the things with her daughter that she did not get to do.

My mom thought she would love her daughter in all the ways she had felt unloved by her mother, and in return, her daughter would love her in the way she had unfailingly and loyally loved her mom.  I think she saw the first crack in this dream when her only daughter, me, informed her at the tender age of two that she didn't want to be rocked to sleep anymore.  She tried for the next week to keep rocking me, hoping it was a one time thing, but I kept telling her no until she eventually gave up trying. A few years later she signed me up for dance lessons and after the first class I begged her to not make me go back.  As a child she'd always wanted to take ballet lessons, something she never got to do.  Naturally, she assumed I would feel the same and be excited about it.  These types of occurrences would happen again, many times over, as I grew up.

As I got older I became very close to my Mema and I could tell that our close bond sometimes upset my mom.  Being the wonderful daughter that I was, I would often flaunt this in front of her. In my mom’s eyes, the relationship she had longed to have with her mother was the one I had with her and the relationship she had longed to have with her daughter, her mother had with me.  I was nothing like the girl she had imagined having; I was more like her mom, minus the uber strict moral code.  My Mema and I, we just had a different relationship- I think granddaughters and grandmothers do, it's just how it is. But to my mom, she didn't have the mother who appreciated her or the daughter.

It was always an issue, especially after my Mema died.  I remember the day that the funeral home gave my mom my Mema's possessions that she'd been wearing when she passed-  one of which was her engagement ring and wedding band.  My mom clutched it in her hand, looking down at the ring she had stared out for a lifetime on her mother's finger. With tears rolling down her face she took a deep breath and handed it to me, saying that my Mema had told her she wanted me to have her ring.  She could have kept it for herself- she loved that ring- but she didn't.  That's not the kind of daughter she was.  My mother always did what her mom wanted and asked her to do and death certainly wasn't going to change my mom from being the daughter she had always been.  

Endless Summer

The last few days (and nights) I've been lost in a sea of human anatomy.  I was supposed to take my final on Saturday, but do not the testing center's incompetency,  they overbooked the spots and had to send three of us home.  I had gotten myself all psyched up to take the exam and be done with it, only to have the wind knocked out of my sails in the form of "an extra two days to study."  That was how the testing center tried to positively spin their screw up: it did not spin me.

I have this problem with details- when there are too many, I start to miss the big picture and focus on the minutiae.  But I know this about myself and that's why I like to write a paper the night before it's due- if I give myself too many days, I'll just keep over thinking and re-writing it until the last minute.  So with these two extra days to study, on top of the last few days before that I'd spent studying, I started to go to the "bad place."  The cards were just not in my favor to avoid it.  We had over 350 slides and another hundred pages of labeling diagrams that were fair game for the final with NO study guide!  Not even an outline of things "to know."  With that much information, I really need some kind of reference to keep me from obsessing about everything that I don't know, especially if it's not even going to be mentioned on the test.

Can you tell that I feeling kinda "all work and no play makes " Katie a dull girl? haha! But I'm very happy that it's over now and I can relax for at least a day or two.  I think I would have done better if I'd taken it on Saturday, but there's nothing I can do about that- hopefully I did okay.  I have my sociology final next Monday night and then I'm done.

One of my favorite things about going to school is that it makes summer so much sweeter.  Whenever I think about the summers of my teenage and college years, the soundtrack in my mind is always "These Are the Days" by Van Morrison.  My favorite lyrics are:
 

These are the days of the endless summer
These are the days, the time is now
There is no past, there's only future
There's only here, there's only now...

These are the days now that we must savour
And we must enjoy as we can
These are the days that will last forever
You've got to hold them in your heart.

The old feelings of anticipations are starting to come back- it makes me feel young again.  I am ready for my endless summer.

It's Mary

Spencer is now calling every female that she doesn't specifically know, "Mary."  Everyone is Mary and I'm supposed to know which Mary she's talking about at any given time.  It's a difficult job! I have absolutely no idea why she's chosen that name, but it makes me laugh. In a totally unrelated segue, she is now no longer using her noonie, aka, the pacifier.  It's been over a month since she's had one, and even though it hasn't been easy, I'm glad she's finally done with it.  Although I now have to rub her back every night until she falls asleep, so I guess that's the next habit I need to break!

School is almost over for the semester and I am so happy about that!  I'm not taking classes this summer since we have a lot of plans for these upcoming months; Spencer turns three, multiple baby showers, a few weeks in North Carolina, to name just a few.   

Wednesday we are having a play date with Sara and Lila and I'm really looking forward to having some adult girl time!  The girls have finally gotten to the age where they can actually play together so all of our time isn't spent trying to entertain and occupy them.  I'm hoping to get some cute pictures of the girls because I haven't gotten out my camera since Easter! Ugh, I don't like it when I go that long without taking any pictures of Spencer- I feel like I'm failing to do a good job documenting her life. 

And in another completely unrelated segue, I'm in love with my Roku!

The Day After Tomorrow

This is what our weather forecast looks like in Richmond for the next seven days.

Do you see it?  It's 64 degrees today here in Richmond- practically balmy.  And on Friday it's supposed to snow!  The high is 38- how does that happen?  Do you see that low?  Twenty degrees, and that's in Fahrenheit folks!  Last night we had the weirdest weather, with incredible gusts of wind with hail and rain, and temperatures in 50-60's.  Today is bright and sunny and then all of a sudden a large cloud will pass and it will rain for like one to two minutes.

I rarely get sick from catching something from someone else.  In fact, it's only happened once in three years (the awful H1N1) and twice in  eight years.  But the two things that always get to my immune system are severe changes in weather and stress.  Without fail, every time there is a drastic change in the temperature, my body lets me know that she's not pleased.  So lets hope that doesn't happen this week!  The only thing worse than being sick, is being sick when you have a small child.

Back to the weather.  We usually have cold winters in January- nothing like it used to be in Minnesota, but still very cold.  This has been the craziest month for us here.  Just two weeks ago we were having highs in the low 20's and lows in teens to single digits.  That just doesn't happen in central Virginia.  And then today we're in the springtime, tomorrow it's back to the winter, and Friday there's getting a snow storm.  It's like we're in the movie The Day After Tomorrow. 

Sweet Talk

I don't like it.  Sweet talk annoys me to no end, mostly because of it's fake fakiness.  Which, unfortunately, I've had an unfortunate history of falling for many times before.  I've never been very good at doing myself, and I've certainly never called anyone I don't know "Honey" or "Sweetie."  In fact, when someone who doesn't know me calls me one of those names, my internal bull honkey antennae goes up.

So imagine my surprise when I discovered my two year old daughter has become the master of deceptive sweet talk.  It snuck up on me, and for awhile I was in denial; I tried to trick myself into believing that all of her "I love yous," "Don't crwys," and unsolicited kisses were just obvious signs of her love and appreciation.  But I've had to face the facts.

My very intuitive daughter tells me she loves me right before she's about to do something naughty.  If I get angry with her, she comes and gives me a kiss, says "Your wekome.  All better?"  She looks at me with such earnest eyes as she strokes my face, nods her head and she's all "It's k! k? ok."  Like she's telling me to back off, what she want's to do is perfectly acceptable, and I just need to chill out and let her do her thing.

In the beginning it was kinda cute, and I probably perpetuated it by being smitten with her ingenious way of manipulating me.  But now, I'm over it. Today when we are on the road, I hear her say "I love you" and as soon as the you was out of her mouth, I heard an unmistakable click.  The click of her unbuckling her car seat!  I start yelling, trying to find a place to pull over and put her back in, and she's all "It's okay, Mommy, I love you!  K? K? ok!"  My jaw was clenched, one hand on the steering wheel, the other trying to keep her in her car seat, and trying to keep any expletives from coming out of my mouth.  This wasn't the first time she's tried to get out of her car seat while I was driving, but it was the first time she's managed to unbuckle it, and I was on a highway!

We were on her way home, she needed her nap, even though she kept telling me otherwise.  So I put her down for her nap, we hug, say our I love yous and it's light out.  Only it's not. I hear another I love you, followed by a thud- indicating she had climbed out of her bed. I finally got her to sleep, but it wasn't easy.  And I've been in a bad mood since then.  Does anyone else deal with this kinda thing? 

Helpless

My friend who died ended his own life.  I found out today.

From the outside looking in, it appeared as though the world was his oyster.  He had a beautiful, intelligent wife, a house, and a loving family.  For what more could you ask?  I was looking at some of his pictures the other day, before any of this happened, and I thought to myself that he looked so happy, so loved.  He was one of the last people I would ever think could make such a decision;  to choose death over life.  

As sad as I am for him, all I can think about is his wife.  They were supposed to have a lifetime together- to grow old with each other.  And now she's alone; left by herself to pick up the pieces and somehow move forward.  It makes me queasy to think about the helplessness she must feel.  What must she have gone through when she went home and found him?

I've experienced depression before.  Shortly after my Mema died my dad was diagnosed with Small B-Cell Lymphoma, specifically Small Lymphocytic Lymphoma.  Within four months my world was turned upside down and I was devastated.  Months later I no longer recognized myself and my parents were so worried about me.  I got help, went to a psychiatrist and was put on an anti-depressant.  After awhile things began to look brighter and I was slowly weaned off of them under my doctor's supervision.  It was a painful time in my life, but I never thought about ending it.  That's why I know he must have been in such tremendous despair.


It's taken me five minutes to write the word.  Suicide.  It takes my breath away like a punch to the stomach.  I don't know if he reached our to anyone or if he kept it all bottled inside.  What if someone I'm close to is experiencing the same thoughts and feelings?  How can I help?  I hope I'm the kind of person that someone could turn to, but maybe I'm not.  I don't know, what are the right words to say?

Tonight, I'm feeling helpless.

Fleeting

I just found out that a friend of mine from high school passed away last night.  We weren't the best of friends, probably more of acquaintances in actuality.  But he's dead now.  Alive yesterday, dead today.  I just can't fathom that.  He was such a nice guy, incredibly smart, and was only 27.  I can't even imagine the pain his wife his going through right now.  I'm even more reminded how fleeting this life is; how we have no idea when our last day is in fact our last day.  It sends shivers down my spine to think of it.  But right now I'm just thinking about the break dancing guy from high school- the one who always had a smile and a hug for everyone.

It's Raining, It's Pouring

And the hits just keep on comin'! Yesterday morning my TV died. It was kinda old, but I really loved her. It was a SONY Wega, flat screened, but not a flat screened or even a LCD screen. It was the TV I got when I started law school many moons ago. I turned her on and she was all red, and would only stay on for a minute or two before turning off again. After some googling and a call to a repairman, I found out it was something to do with a capcitator. Since it was an old TV that they don't make anymore, it was going to make things much more difficult and more expensive. Of course!

Spencer was very upset because in the morning she watches Elmo (Sesame Street). It was an interesting day- we read a lot of books and went to a sing a long at Barnes & Noble. I got nothing accomplished. As much as I'd like to fancy myself as one of those mothers who can entertain her child all day long without any help and no TV- I'm not. I need at least an hour a day to get "stuff" done in the house and keep things running. So this morning I dipped into my "New Camera Fund" and bought a new TV. Normally I'd be happy about something like this, but not today. I didn't want a new television, I was perfectly happy with my old one. It was also not in my budget- not at all. I got a good deal on Samsung, it's smaller than my last one, but oh, well. We don't need a huge TV, just one that works.

Unfortunately, it means it's going to be even longer before I can buy a new camera. Yesterday I just got so frustrated thinking about finances and I started to cry. Spencer came up to me and put her hands on my cheeks and said "Don't cry Mommy, don't cry." It kinda melted my heart.

I'm really trying hard to think positive thoughts...

On that note, I only have one more week of classes left! It's followed by two weeks of finals, but at least the end is near!

Lazy Hazy Days of Summer

Life is anything but lazy, hazy, or summery right now. I have a ton of school work, Spencer is a wild woman, and it's cold and rainy. Technically I'm on Thanksgiving break right now, but it doesn't mean much in the real world. I'm also EXHAUSTED, bone weary kinda tired. We spent Sunday night with PGPs and I fell asleep at 8:30pm!

Tomorrow night we're going home to my parents house and spending the night with them. Thursday is Thanksgiving dinner at my aunt's followed by a long nap- hopefully. I don't participate in Black Friday- do ya'll? So that's what's new with me, not much.