American Idol

And now a break from your normally scheduled program...

I am not too ashamed to admit that I love American Idol.  Really.  I don't miss a show.  Well, unless Ladybug is having issues.  But if she is good she gets to watch it with me.  I apparently have no taste in music -- or more accurately no GOOD taste in music.  Nobody agrees with me.  And I am always disappointed with who is eliminated.  But let me just express my opinion about this season -- which generally speaking I am very happy about.

Scotty - When I first heard him I was hooked.  Love love love that deep voice.  But it turned out that all he sings is country, and I don't really like country.  How do you turn Elton John into a country song?  I am sure he is popular with the younger crowd.  I am sure he has a good voice.  But it appears that he is a one trick pony.  Maybe he will be very successful in the country world...but I don't like the country world.

Naima - I love her.  She is an artist.  The dirty gritty willing to do what it takes kind of an artist.  She mixes it up.  She puts her flare on it.  She may not be the best singer of the bunch but I always look forward to watching her.  And I hope she survives the night.

Paul - How can you not love this guy.  I get it.  He isn't the best singer.  But he is a performer.  An entertainer.  Different.  Unique.  I enjoy him every single time -- no matter what Vote for the Worst is saying about him.

Thia - Her charm is fading for me.  The first couple of weeks I was impressed with the crystal quality of her voice.  She was sweet and innocent and pure.  But to be honest I am getting a little bored with her songs.

Stefano - He is cute.  Maybe too cute for my style.  And he has a good voice.  But I am bored.  I don't feel inspired.  I don't look forward to his songs.  I think he would be good as part of a boy band.  I am sure he has a great following -- it is just not the 40 something crowd.

Pia - I dare anybody to come up with something even slightly negative to say about this girl (exactly when did I start referring to a 22 year old as a girl?).  I want to see her every week.  I know the judges are pushing her to do something other than a ballad (but they never push Scotty to do anything other than country) but I don't care.  This is what she does.  And she is good at it.  And beautiful.  And poised.  And classy.  I want to see her every week.

Casey - Sign me up for his fan club.  Funky.  Quirky.  Fun.  I am not a fan of facial hair but I think he may have a baby face under the hair so the beard might help him.  He amuses me.  And I like his singing.  Please keep him around for a long time so I can enjoy his music.

Jacob - I don't mean to sound mean (but it is my name) but please send him home.  I know he has a good voice.  But he is not amusing or entertaining.  And all of his music is way over done.  It is like a broadway gospel.  And he looks like he is in pain every time he performs.  And I am in pain.  He really is not my cup of tea.

Lauren - I don't really understand the buzz around her.  She sings.  She has great lung capacity.  But she is not memorable.  What song did she sing last night?  It was probably good.  Because she always is.  But it doesn't stick in my head.  She has to do something special or I am not going to be a fan.

James - I think he is a good rocker.  I don't think he is a good singer.  I think he screeches through most of his songs.  Again, another one trick pony -- rock.  And yet the judges don't ask him to stretch out of his comfort zone.  I really don't understand the fascination.

Haley - All I can say is -- I am in love.  Really.  Create an album I will buy it.  I look forward to every performance.  I love her jazzy, bluesy, growl.  I love her tone.  I love her.  I want to be the president of her fan club.  I can't wait to hear what she does next week.  And the week after.And I want to see her Elton John performance again please.

So based on all this I am pretty sure that the winner of this season will be -- Jacob.  I don't like it.  I don't agree with it.  But apparently most of America doesn't agree with me.  Please don't let one of my favorites go home this week.

Mean Mama

Baby dolls

I was a little disappointed this weekend.  Some may say I am reading into this.  I fear it is deeper though.

I was cleaning up Ladybug's room.  Before you yell at me for cleaning up her room instead of making her clean it up, please keep in mind that I am actually the one who made the mess.  I tore it up.  Literally.  I was looking for something.  And went on a rampage.  Everything got dumped out of bins and drawers into the middle of the room.  A disaster. And I let it be there for about 2 weeks.  Not because I wanted her to clean it up.  But because I was lazy.  No other explanation.

After week one I went into the room and with a garbage bag.  I was smart enough to do this while Ladybug was in the tub.  You see, she is a bit of a pack rat.  She refuses to let me throw away anything.  But I started doing just that.  By the end of her bath I had a full large bag of things that were leaving our life forever.

Then on Sunday I went back in.  This time she was not in the tub.  And my mission was a little bigger.  Not only was I going to find more trash and put everything away, I planned on getting rid of toys that she no longer used.  We took out another full large garbage bag of trash.  We got rid of a train set.  We filled a box full of things to donate.  And we put away everything.  She helped.  A little.  As I said...I made the mess.

At the end we got to the baby doll bin.  I remember before she came home a friend asked me if I had any dolls for her.  I told her I had 2.  She laughed and told me I needed more.  I hadn't planned on getting more but she has more now.  Lots more.  So I decided that maybe we could part with a few.  We went through each one.  I asked her if she wanted to keep or get rid of.  I let her pick. 

And this is where I get ... worried.

By the time we got through the bin she had decided to keep all but 3.  The 3 she decided to get rid of???  The little black baby dolls.  Really.  And because I like to turn everything into a catastrophe I had to address it.  So I asked her why.  Why does she not want to keep them? 

Ladybug: Well look at them.
Mama: I am.
Ladybug: They are not pretty.
Mama: Why are they not pretty?
Ladybug: Well, that one's hair is too short and too curly.
Mama: She has hair like yours -- only shorter.
Ladybug:  I know.  It's not pretty.
Mama:  What about the other 2?
Ladybug: There skin is too dark.
Mama: (holding the baby dolls up to her arm) Your skin is darker than theirs.  And you have beautiful skin.
Ladybug:  No I don't.  Brown is not pretty.

We ended up keeping the baby dolls - despite wanting to get rid of things.  And we are working on the issues.  But it makes me sad.

Mean Mama

Trying not to judge

One of the things that I must do for our new therapist is to complete a chart for behaviors for Ladybug.  Her teachers must also complete it.  It is called the BASC-2 (Behavior Assessment System for Children, second edition).  I plowed through it.  Today I sent the charts for the teachers to complete.  And they did it and sent it home today.  I want them to be honest.  I was.  But this is also my child.  Love her.  And it appears as if maybe one of them really doesn't.

She has a teacher and a teacher's aid.  And it appears that maybe they see Ladybug very differently in some areas.  I am also pretty clear that perhaps Ladybug has not worked any of her charms on the teacher's aid.  She gets rated in Never (N), Sometimes (S), Often (O), and Almost Always (A).

Here are some of the differences...

Is creative .... Teacher -A  and Aid - S
Says "please and thank you" ... Teacher - O and Aid - S
Seems lonely ... Teacher - S and Aid - O
Bothers other children when they are working ... Teacher - O and Aid - A
Is overly active ... Teacher - A and Aid - S
Loses temper easily ... Teacher - S and Aid - O
Says "nobody likes me" ... Teacher - O and Aid - S
Is a good sport ... Teacher - S and Aid - N
Acts without thinking ... Teacher - O and Aid - S
Is unclear in presenting ideas ... Teacher - N and Aid - O
Compliments others ... Teacher - S and Aid - N
Has poor self control ... Teacher - S and Aid - N
Listens attentively ... Teacher - O and Aid - S
Worries about what other children think ... Teacher - O and Aid - N
Is unaware of others ... Teacher - N and Aid -S
Disrupts school work of others ... Teacher - S and Aid - O
Lies ... Teacher - S and Aid - O
Worries ... Teacher - S and Aid - N

There are 139 questions.  They agreed on some.  But it strikes me that the Aid seems to have a much more negative view of Ladybug.  Or am I reading into it?  I mean, this is my baby.

Mean Mama

Monday morning fashion struggles

One of the things I did this weekend was bring out all of Ladybug's summer clothes.  Why?  Because some days are hot and she needs appropriate clothes.  For her this is like new clothes and she wants to wear them.  But come Monday morning it was cold.  Really cold.  But she doesn't care.

Ladybug: Can I wear shorts this morning?
Mama: No, Honey.  It is suppose to be cold today.  The weatherman actually said it might snow.  Wear long sleeves and pants please. (shouting from the shower)
Ladybug: AAARRRRRGGGGGG! (stamping her feet)
Mama: Seriously?  You are getting mad at me because of the weather?  I don't have any control over that, Honey.  Please wear warm clothes.

She stamps away.  I shower in peace.  I am getting dressed when I yelled at her to see what she picked.  She appears in her door wearing... a short sleeve shirt and capris.  I guess that is "warmer" than what she wanted.

Mama: No.  Long pants and long sleeve shirt please.
Ladybug: (mumbles something I opt not to hear and stamps off to change)

She appears again in a long sleeve shirt (the thinnest material she can find) and stretchy pants.  I decide not to argue.  We finish getting ready and head out the door.  She stops in the doorway and I try to coax her out but she is not budging.  Finally she says, "Mama it is too cold out here to go out."

Lesson learned!

Until this morning.  When I was in the shower and she yelled at me to see what she picked to wear today... shorts and a t-shirt.

Yes, I made her change again.  Maybe the lesson that needs to be learned is that I should not have brought out her summer clothes this early.

Mean Mama

1 week hair update

I don't think it is possible for me to say just how much I love this new style.  Really!  We have passed the 1 week mark.  I try to moisturize it every night.  I try not to let her get it wet.  I can put it up in a ponytail.  I can put a headband on it.  I can pull some back away from her face.  I can leave it down.

I did have to redo some.  There were a few undone twists around her ears and nape of her neck.  I also did the ones right at her forehead.  I think I did 7.  7!  Hoping they survive another week.  Or two.

Here are some updated photos...

Seriously... this is such a time consuming style to put in but I am loving it so much that I will do it again in a heartbeat.

Mean Mama

House Hunter

I admit it.  I love HGTV.  I watch it a lot.  I dream while I watch it.  Some day I will own a house... or a condo.  So I watch and dream.

Ladybug watches it with me.  Not voluntarily.  And yesterday she did something that made me think that maybe I watch it too much.  She decided to hold her own House Hunter for me.  She drew 3 houses for me to pick from.

House #1:

I told her that it was beautiful house.  The original plan did not include the pool.  But I loved the garden.  I loved the garage.

House #2:

Simple.  And it has a dog house.  Have I mentioned how much she wants a dog?

House #3:

Another simple house.  With a pool.  And a dog house.

So it was decision time.  I needed to pick the one I wanted to keep.  So I explained that I really liked house #1 but I really don't want a garden.  I hate yard work.  House #2 did not appeal to me much.  And we don't actually have a dog.  House #3 has a pool.  Need I say more?  So my choice was house #3.

Apparently I picked the wrong house.  She decided that house #1 needed a pool.  And then she threw in a free car.  And she promised me that the garden was all done and I didn't need to do any work in it.  And just to insure that I would pick the right house on my second try she turned the dog house into a haunted house (hititot hous) on house #3.

I picked house #1.

Mean Mama

night dreams

One of the things my new therapist has is the sleeping patterns in our house.  I really have no point of reference as to what is normal.  I know what I did before Ladybug and what I have done after.

I sleep.  I love sleep.  My favorite hobby.  I love my bed.  Seriously.  But seriously, I need a lot of sleep.  And I use to sleep heavy.  I slept through fire drills in college.  Seriously.  I thought people were teasing me when they would mention the middle of the night fire drills.  I slept through them all.  I NEED 8 hours of sleep a night.  I could really use 9 hours of sleep a night.  And I would be in heaven if I got 10 hours of sleep a night.  I know it seems ridiculous but it is true.

That doesn't happen anymore.  Ever.  EVER!

Ladybug is not a sleeper.  People said when she stopped taking a nap she would sleep through the night.  Wrong!  She has never slept through the night.  NEVER!!  Let me repeat that ... NEVER!!  She has been home for about 4.5 years now... she is 6 years old... and she has never slept through the night.  I get so jealous when people start talking about their 3 month old sleeping through the night.  3 months??  It will never happen for me. 

I put her to bed -- like clock work -- at 8pm.  Well, except for weekends.  And for the most part she goes right to sleep.  She is tired.  I go to bed between 11pm and midnight.  in those 3 or 4 hours she will get up, on average, 6 times.  For the most part she stays upstairs.  She wakes up and goes looking for me.  I hear her walking back and forth.  If I am not in bed she goes back to her bed and back to sleep.  Once I go to bed she crawls in bed with me and sleeps.  She wakes up a few times during the night and reaches for me but she falls back to sleep. 

Before she crawls in bed with me, between her road trips to my bed, she has night terrors.  Nightly.  Okay, I don't know if they qualify as a real night terror but they seem terrible to me.  At one point I put her bed in the middle of the room because she kicks and hits.  I was afraid she might hurt her little toes kicking the walls.  she falls out of bed at least once a week...considering the condition of her room right now I am hoping it isn't any time soon.  She cries and screams and talks. 

For the most part I don't disturb her.  But sometimes I hear a blood curdling scream or NOOOOOO and I go to settle her down.  Sometimes I find her sitting up babbling.  Asleep.  And I coax her back to a sleeping position.

She never remembers her dreams.  So I am unsure how to help her process the night time issues.

I wonder what the therapist will think of all of this.

Mean Mama

And then sometimes....

Through all of my complaining lately there are good moments.  Actually this week we have had some seriously good moments.  I mean I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I am always scared the good will be replaced with the anger.  Like today when she asked from candy for dinner.  Of course I said no.  SHOCKING, I know.  And her response was to lay down on the couch and kick and scream and throw a fit.  And again she went off about how unfair life is.

Is that normal? 

So I asked a simple question.  Did she expect to get what she wanted because she through a fit?  I didn't get an answer.  I didn't really expect one.  But it did slow her down.  And when the screaming subsided I made her a promise.  I told her I could make very few promises in life but one I could promise her was that whenever she threw a fit I promised she would never get what she wanted.  That stopped her.

But we have had good moments.  Like this evening while we were watching Ella Enchanted (for the 4th time in 24 hours) and she asked for cuddle time.  Or earlier in the week when she did the dishes (she thinks it's fun).  Or the ridiculous number of please and thank you's that I have heard this week.  Or the middle of the night when she reaches for me and says she just wants to hold my hand.  Or this evening walking back from the mailbox and she took my hand without me prompting. 

I take my good times in moments.  Because they come in moments.  They are fleeting.  And they are sweet.  I live for those moments.  My heart practically explodes with pure love and joy when they come.   And I hope that as we get into therapy those moments will come more frequently.

Fingers crossed...and enjoying the moments as they come.

Mean Mama

Egocentrism

This is what my sister posted on her Facebook page recently...

"Doesn't make sense, does it? Homeless in the US go without eating. Elderly in the US go without needed medicines. Mentally ill in the US go without treatment. American troops go without proper equipment. American veterans go without benefits that were promised. Yet we donate billions to other countries before helping our own first. 1% will re-post and 99% won't. Have the guts to re-post this. I KNOW I'M IN THE 1%"

I found it offensive.  Not because it isn't true.  Which I have no knowledge about.  I know there are Americans in need.  I know Americans struggle.  I know Americans have needs that are not met.  But does being American mean that Americans must be in a perfect situation before we are able to help people in other countries?  And my daughter is not a born American.  Her niece.  She is from another country that needs help.  Her ancestors and her first family are Ethiopian.  I believe it to be impossible to adopt from Ethiopia and not fall in love with the country, the culture, and the people.  Should I ignore their needs because there are Americans who also need? 


It makes me sad.


Mean Mama

A E I O U

Ladybug has been having a hard time learning to read.  Or at least I think so.  I encourage her to try.  When she gets stuck my common response is ... use your sounds.  And sometimes that doesn't work. 

Mama:  What letter makes the sound "ah"?
Ladybug: O
Mama:  No.  "Ah!"
Ladybug:  O
Mama:  No Honey.  "AH!"
Ladybug: O


I wasn't getting anywhere.  And then today I had an "Ah ha" moment.

I was driving to work and listening to the radio.  A commercial came on and what I heard was...

"Ahm on my fate awl day.  Up and down the lighter..."

What?? 

Translation -- from English to English -- "I'm on my feet all day.  Up and down the ladder..."

And the light went on.

I am not from the part of the country.  I did not grow up here.  I do not pronounce my vowels the same way they do here.  And Ladybug is learning her vowels from her teacher -- who probably grew up in this town. 

Mean Mama

therapy update

I am not sure how I am suppose to feel.  I saw the new therapist today.  Just an intake.  Just a clinical review of what I am concerned about.  Ladybug wasn't even there.  Just my take on things.

At first she listened without real concern.  For about 5 minutes.  This was just an overwhelmed single mom.  I actually really liked her.  Down to earth.  Straight forward.  Smart.    I was honest.  And open.  I tried to just report facts.  No opinions.

She wants Ladybug to see a psychiatrist.  Actually referred me to one.  She knows she is diagnosed with a Sensory Processing Disorder.  She sees that in what I told her.  And she knows the OT who diagnosed her so she trusts the diagnosis.  She is also concerned about a possible sleep disorder.  And her anger.  And the aggression.  Possible ADHD.  Possible attachment issues.  She wants me to pursue an IEP.  Be open to medications.  She wants to get some relief for Ladybug because she obviously must feel terrible if this is how she is acting.

So how exactly am I suppose to feel?  Am I suppose to be happy?  Happy that someone believed me?  Happy that I am not crazy?  Happy that maybe there is hope for a change?  Am I suppose to be sad?  Sad that I might be right?  Sad because she may have a long road ahead of her?  Sad that she is not a normal happy go lucky kid?

Mean Mama

melt down versus blow out

Have you ever considered the difference between a melt down and a blow out?  I there a difference in your book?  I have recently decided that there is a huge difference.  At least in my life.  And the difference is very much visual.

Watching a child "melt down" is like watching a child melt (hence the word) into a puddle of blubbering mess.  I don't see this often.  But I did the other day.  I don't even remember what it was about any more.  But one moment Ladybug was standing in front of me asking me for something and then next moment she collapsed on the floor in a puddle crying.  She was upset and sad.  Sad being the operative word.  She was disappointed in my answer (which I am pretty sure was no -- even though I don't remember the question).  Whining followed.  But she remained a heap on the floor. 

A "blow out" is quite the opposite.  It is like watching a child go from standing next to you to having her head explode into a firework display.  This is what I see a lot.  One moment she is standing next to me and the next she she stomping, throwing up her arms, yelling at me, turning red, and threatening to explode.  I see it a lot.  Did I already say that?  Today...for instance...I picked her up from her after school program.  She walked out to the car.  It was written all over her face.  Brow furrowed.  Lips tight.  Eyes squinting.  Yep, the fuse had already bit lit.

Mama:  How was you day, Honey?
Ladybug: I got a lot of X's!
Mama:  Rough day?
Ladybug:  I already said yes!
Mama: What was the problem?
Ladybug:  I was hungry!
Mama:  Why?
Ladybug:  Because I threw away my breakfast!
Mama: What?  Why?
Ladybug:  Because I didn't like it!
Mama: Aaaah.  (Sigh)
Ladybug:  I am not going to talk about this with you!  We do not need to talk about everything.  You can not make me talk about my bad days.  (Kicks the the seat in the car.  Takes of her cowgirl boot and throws it across the car.  Crosses her arms in defiance.  Scowls at me.)

See the difference?  It is so clear to me when it is happening.  I see the difference.  I just wish I saw it less.

Therapy starts tomorrow.  I am scared.  And hopeful.

Mean Mama

I don't understand

I really don't understand.  I was just trying to have a conversation...on the phone... with my parents.  We started on skype but then my internet failed.  Ladybug talked to them.  Well... for a chatter she is not very good a phone calls.  But I let her go first. 

Then I asked her to go play while I talked.  I stayed in the kitchen.  I put away the groceries.  I swept.  I generally cleaned up while talking. 

She refused to stay up in her room.  She brought down every noisy toy she could find.  She didn't even play them in the living room.  She played them in the hall.  I tried closing the kitchen door -- yes, I actually have a door to the kitchen, which seems odd to me -- but she kept coming in.  I sent her outside to play.  She bounced a ball.  She stood in the doorway and blew bubbles into the house.  I tried closing the door.  She opened it.  I went outside.  So she went outside.  Of course.

She would loudly whisper to me.  I am on the phone!!!  I redirected it several times but then I gave up.  I obviously was not meant to have a conversation on the phone.  She was not going to allow it.  So I ended the call short.  I turned my attention to her.

And she promptly laid down on the couch and fell asleep.  Really?????

Mean Mama

Change in hair

Ladybug has been begging for straight hair.  It is not going to happen.  But I decided to make a new attempt at her hair.  I have been very neglectful of her hair lately.  She has had chunky twists for about 3 weeks.  I love chunky twists.  Easy in and easy out.  But 3 weeks of chunky twists makes me look like a neglectful mom.

Last night I took the twists out.  Beads came out and the 2 strands of the twists were separated.  So this is what we started with this morning.

I had to do some serious moisturizing.  I slathered in a conditioner last night and let her sleep with it in.  And yet it did not revive the shine and luster.

So this morning I began separating the twists.  And we ended up with this.

Looks like a tangled mess.  And it pretty much is.  I slathered in more conditioner.  Lots more.  And let it sit for about 30 minutes.  And then we headed up to wash the hair.

She hates having her hair washed.  She thinks I am crazy when I tell her I love having the hairdresser wash my hair.  But a good shampoo and conditioning and her hair is revived.  All those lovely curls she hates.

And then came the chore of combing it out.  Which she whined a little about.  But overall did okay.  She has a lot of hair with many different types of hair.  There is far more kink in the hair on the top of head then in other places.  So I have to change strategies when working my way around her head.

Then the plan was to put in 3 large cornrows.  This would allow the hair to dry and stretch out.  But she was very (and I mean VERY) uncooperative during this process.  Three LARGE cornrows.  Screaming.  Crying.  Name calling.  Wiggling.  Slouching.  And it turned out to be the ugliest 3 cornrows because I couldn't handle the screaming.  And I am not exaggerating when I say ugly.

And yes, I let her go out in public looking like that.  If she can not be cooperative in this process then she gets what she gets. 

But then she allowed me to start on the actual hairstyle later in the day.  It did take some coaxing but she was cooperative.  She did whine but not nearly as bad as earlier in the day.  We are going tiny twists.  Lots.  No beads.  A more grown up look.  I am hoping it will last.  And give me some versatility.  Maybe we can do a ponytail.  Or pulling some back in a barrette.  Or something.

We have done about 1/4-1/3 of her head today.  And they are looking cute.  We have a lot to do tomorrow.  And it may not get all done before school on Monday.  So I will have to figure it out so she can be pretty for school.  But this is what we have so far.

I can't wait to be done.  I am still hopeful that they  will look good.

Mean Mama

some neighbors are not so neighborly

I walked Ladybug down the street today.  Same complex.  To see if she could play with her classmate.  Her classmate is a sweet little girl, who never gets in trouble.  So I want her to spend more time with the classmate.  Besides, her mom actually watches her children.  Through the mom's broken English and my broken Spanish we managed to have a brief conversation that ended with Ladybug staying at her house for a playdate.

As I was walking home I was thinking that I really should have gone further in my 4.5  years of Spanish.  Or maybe I should have tried harder when I lived in a town where 80% of the population spoke Spanish as a first language. 

I was also looking around at the kids running every where.  Normally they won't let Ladybug play with them.  They are mean.  I know, Ladybug is a bully.  But they collectively come up  with rules.  Like last week they said anybody under the age of 7 was too young to play the game.  And Ladybug was the only kid who was younger than 7 so she sat on the sidelines and watched.  So as I was walking back after dumping my child I was happy so wasn't going to be subjected to that today. 

And then I saw a neighbor walk across the parking lot with her two children (about 10 and 13 years old).  She walked up to another woman and her husband and they started speaking.  It quickly escalated.  The woman with the Husband yelling at the mom with the kids that the kids can not come over and hit her kids.  And the woman with the kids was yelling at the woman with the kids that they were kids and could not be controlled.  And the the woman with the Husband went back in her apartment.  And the woman with the kids ranting around the parking lot -- with her kids.

They are all losers.
Even the parents are losers.
This is why you shouldn't be allowed to play with losers.
You are losers (looking at the kids).

And then she switched to a language I don't know.

I kept walking and went into my apartment.  But now there is a police car parked in front of the woman's apartment.  And I am dying to know more.  But I have not made friend's with these people yet -- anti-social introvert that I am.

Mean Mama

scary moments

Sometimes we have to react.  Not think.  Not analyze.  Act.  It is necessary.  For safety.

Last night we were out doing things.  As we left the store we discovered it was raining.  Just a little.  Misting.  And my little sweet girl must be made of sugar because she refused to step out in the rain.  I could of tried to convince her to walk to the car.  But I didn't.  I just started walking.  I knew eventually she would follow.  And she did.

As I was walking toward our car -- like a normal parent -- I was aware of what was going on around me.  I saw the back up lights on the SUV parked next to my car.  Between me and my car.  I saw the brake lights.  I knew the SUV was on.  I knew we had no way of predicting when those brake lights would go off and he would be backing up.

I heard her come running up behind me, screaming.  I didn't want to panic her.  So, while keeping an eye on the SUV, I reached out to grab her as she ran by me.  Only she ran around me on the other side when she saw my arm shoot out to get her.  I didn't grab her.  I yelled.

Stop.

Stop!

STOP!.

Only she was screaming and running and not listening.   And she is about 2 feet from the SUV, going full speed toward it.

The brake lights went off.

And I screamed.  NOOOOOOOOOO!.

She stopped.  He stopped (despite the rain, the music, the windows up, the engine, and being on the cell phone he heard me).

I grabbed her and pulled her back.

Her only concern was getting out of the rain.

Mean Mama

The price for averting crisis

I ... we... had a good weekend.  There were many averted crises.  We did well.  And then today I paid the price.  Okay... she did too.  But I am feeling sorry for myself at the moment.

Today was library day so she needed to get her library book to turn in.  But she didn't know where it was.  So she sat down and gave up.  Which set me off.  Don't stop.  Keep trying.  Look.  Find it.  We tore about the house.  I tore apart her room.  Let me define "tore apart" (and keep in mind this picture was taken after I put the books away)

We didn't find the book.  So I reminded her to ask the teacher what book she has checked out -- because she couldn't even remember that.  This all made me think that she has too much stuff.  She has stuff she doesn't even remember having.  I am not a pack rat.  In comparison here is my bedroom.

See.  No mess.  No extra stuff.  And this is when I should probably mention that half my stuff is in storage still hoping to move.

So I told Ladybug that we were going to clean out her stuff.  If she has so much stuff that she can't find what she needs then she has too much stuff.  And that is when the meltdown began.  Tears and drama.  She needs to keep everything or she won't have her memories.  What??  She loves all her stuff.  And I think she meant "love" like she means it towards people.

By this time we were running late so I dropped her off at school.  And SHOCKING...she had a bad day.  So bad that the teacher emailed me.  Love that.  She...

wouldn't follow directions
didn't listen to the teacher
refused to do the work
scratched a kid with a fork
yelled at the student teacher that she hates her
yelled that she hates school and is never returning
and threatened to punch a kid
lost her homework

And did I mention she has caught another head cold.  And tomorrow she has her physical.  Please don't let there be any shots this year.

Mean Mama

Do you believe?

As we were heading out today, Ladybug was all worried about what if she lost her tooth today.  She has lost many teeth but she has a new one about ready to come out.  She wanted to make sure not to lose the tooth because she wanted the tooth fairy to come.  And then I got worried.  I am out of the dollar coins...what if she lost the tooth??

So I told her that maybe the tooth fairy was on vacation.  But she wasn't buying that.  She informed me that the tooth fairy uses all the teeth to make swings.  I was afraid to ask more details about that statement.  And then she said...

Ladybug:  Mama, I have a question.
Mama: Yes?
Ladybug: And I need the truth from you.
Mama: (laughing) Okay.
Ladybug:  Is the tooth fairy real?
Mama: (Oh geez!)  What do you think? (when all else fails -- like my brain -- throw it back at the child)
Ladybug: Mom!  I want the truth!
Mama:  I understand.  Do you think she is real?
Ladybug: Well the older kids tell me that you take the teeth and throw them away and leave me money.
Mama: Why would I take your teeth? (Which I do...but just to gross you out -- I don't throw them away)
Ladybug: I want the truth from you.
Mama: Well do you believe she is real?
Ladybug:  I am not sure.  But I think she might be.
Mama: Okay.

I know she won't believe in these things (Easter Bunny, Santa, tooth fairy, etc) forever.  I don't even see a definite reason for her to believe in these things.  But I enjoy the make believe.  And I am not sure I am willing to give it up yet.

Mean Mama

sometimes we have success

I know I complain a lot.  So I thought I would tell you of 2 (Yes! 2) success we had today.

When I finally got myself motivated today to get the day going (which was well after noon) I started out with a shower.  I told Ladybug that while I was showering I expected her to clean up the living room.  Before you think that I am a mean mama (despite having that name), please understand that the room was a disaster because she made it that way.  It was her hair bows, her barbies, her art work, her school work, her dirty clothes, her toys. 

I was in the shower for about 30 seconds -- and enjoying the fact that I did not have to hold on the shower walls to prevent myself from falling over -- when she came up and told me it was clean.  Yeah.  RIGHT!  I don't believe it for a second.  But I am in the shower... what was I really going to do about it?  When I got out I went to her room -- where she had taken up residence to play with her barn and animals -- and told her that when I got dressed I planned on going downstairs and throwing away everything still in the living room.  She looked at me with wide eyed innocence and said, "Fine."

It made me think.  Did she clean the living room?  I check one more time.  But I got a, "It's clean Mom."  So I got dressed and went downstairs.  And instead of freaking out, I just grabbed a trash bag and started filling it.  I warned her.  I checked in with her.  I told her what I was going to do.  Time to follow through.  When the bag was full, (yes, full) she came downstairs.  And she asked what was in the bag.  So I told her.  And she freaked out.  She started throwing things out of the bag.  And then she stomped upstairs.  So I put everything back in the bag.  Barbies...clothes...books...art work... shoes... her computer... 

The stuff went in the bag several times, and was thrown out of the bag several times before I asked a very angry Ladybug to come sit with me.  I sat her on the couch and I pulled up a chair to face her.  I took both of her hands in mine and I asked her if she was mad at me.  Which of course illicited a look that not only told me that she thought I was stupid but also let me know she was very angry.  But I refused to take her "looks" as an answer.  So I asked again.  And she unhappily answered.  I asked why.  She said because I was throwing her things away.  So I reviewed this with her.

Mama:  Ok you are mad because I threw your things away?
Ladybug: Um...Yeah.
Mama:  Ok.  So before I took a shower did I ask you to clean the living room?
Ladybug: Yeah.
Mama: After my shower did I ask you if the living room was clean?
Ladybug: Yeah.
Mama: Did I tell you I was going to throw away all things still on the living room.
Ladybug:  Yeah.
Mama:  Did you tell me that was okay?
Ladybug: Yeah.
Mama: Okay so let me get this straight... You told me the living room was clean and I could throw away everything.  I trusted you.  I threw away everything.  And you are mad at me?
Ladybug: Well?
Mama:  You told me something... I trusted you... and you are mad at me?
Ladybug: Well... (giggles)

So I repeated this several times with a very perplexed look on my face before she finally fell over laughing at how stupid I sounded.  Crisis averted.

Then it was time for us to get out of the house.  We needed to go to the local book store to get my father a birthday present.  The plan was to get him a jazz CD.  I know it seems a little odd to go to a book store for music but it works for us. Before going I sat down Ladybug and told her that we are going to get a CD for my dad.  I was not buying anything else.  I was not buying her a book.  She said she understood.  Do you see the set up yet??

When we arrived I sent her off to the children's section (free range) and I headed to the music section.  Here is the problem.  My dad loves jazz.  I hate it.  And watching me pick out a jazz CD is likely comical for others and just frustrating for me.  So I gave up quickly and decided that I would just get him a gift certificate.  I cheat.  So I headed to the children's section and found Ladybug.  I sat with her and read several books.  And then the "Can I just get one book?" started.  I said no several times.  I read but she started whining.  I told her that we needed to go since she was having a hard time with hearing the no.  We headed to the registers.  Or more accurately...I headed to the registers.  She lallygagged (fun word) behind me.  She refused to stay up with me so I guided her kind of like a herded corralling the defiant sheep.  She touched everything.  I tried to block every grab.  Finally we made it to the line.

And the attitude started.  "I am not going to stand next to you.  Don't touch me.  I don't have to listen to you."  I put my hands on her shoulders and made her stand in front of me.  The couple in front of us -- the young couple that likely wasn't married and definitely did not have kids yet -- became uncomfortable.  The slowly inched as close the the person in front of them in line in an attempt to put as much space between them and us.  I told her I was not letting her go.  I told her to calm down.  I kept my cool.  I told her if she didn't calm down we were going to have to leave without getting the gift card and she could tell my dad why he didn't get a birthday present (I didn't tell her that it is already past his birthday). 

Finally she whined (less attitude) for me to let go.  I opted to switch from holding her shoulders to holding one wrist.  I have perfected the art of holding her wrist in a way that she can't get out (no matter how she struggles) and yet I am hardly touching her at all.  Then I asked her if she wanted to pick out which gift card to get.  She picked one with Wild Thing on it.  Fitting.  For both her and my dad. 

And then her attitude changed instantly.  Sweet.  Helpful.  Loving.  So much so that we made it through the book store and the grocery store without further incident.

...Until she spilled orange soda all over my cream carpet.  But I kept my cool through that too.

Mean Mama

The dreaded weight update

I resisted a weight update in my last new years resolution update.  Which, of course, can only mean that I had bad news.  And...I did.

So let me back up.  February was a hard month.  I was not dieting for the month.  It was my month off.  I started the month at 269.8.  Just under that 270 mark.  And then in February Ladybug got sick.  Nothing serious.  Just a head cold.  And only for about 2 days.  But it was just long enough for her to share it with me.  And while she was sick for 2 days -- I was closer to the 10 day mark.  Head cold.  Couldn't breathe.  Lots of coughing.  Feeling generally crappy.  I even went to the doctor and she told me... I wasn't sick.  No sinus problems.  No chest issues.  No flu.  I was so healthy, in fact, that she gave me a flu shot.  But I started to feel better -- miraculously right after I visited the doctor.  But then Ladybug got sick.  And I took her to the doctor.  And he said...she wasn't sick.  Yep.  Two miserable people who weren't really sick.  And lots of doctor bills to prove we actually are just hypochondriacs.

This is all said because one of my goals for the month of February was to work out with Bob and Jillian with the Wii Biggest Loser every day for 21 days.  I did the first day.  Which just about killed me.  I did day 2 which I thought was really going to kill me.  And I haven't turned the Wii on since.  Definitely did not meet that goal.  And then on top of not exercising I was eating like a sumo wrestler.  I am an emotional eater and Ladybug and I were having issues.

So I started my last round of starvation dieting at.... OMG I so don't want to say this... 282.8.  Oh yes, I am successful when it comes to gaining weight.  SHOCKING!  But I jumped on that diet bandwagon and was perfect.  I mean perfect.  I did not cheat.  I was hungry.  And I fantasized about food.  But I was going to be successful.  I was going to get skinny (skinnier).  And at week one I was down to 276.4.  6.4 pounds in one week.  Who could not be happy about that.  Well, I was hoping for 10 but I was thrilled with 6.4.  And then on day one of week 2 I got sick.

There seems to be a lot of that for me this year.

But this was not a head cold.  I woke up...rolled over...blacked out from dizziness.  Really??  How do I black out while laying down.  I was out for just a few seconds and then woke up feeling like I was going to puke.  I spent all day convinced I had food poisoning.  Tummy issues, nausea, dizziness.  I had salmonella once and this felt a lot like that.  On the one hand I could not afford food poisoning.  I mean I was in bed for 3 weeks last time this happened.  But on the positive side -- I lost about 30 pounds when I had it.  But I have a child... and a job... and a lot of bills.  I can not have food poisoning.  And I didn't.

It turned out that I just have some inner ear infection.  It makes me really dizzy.  I had the bed spins so bad last night that I seriously almost puked.  I spent a couple of days needing to hang on to a wall just to walk.  I made it to work.  I even managed to get a little work done.  It is not fun to go through a day feeling like your head is about 4 feet above your shoulders.  It made me feel like I was on a roller coaster -- and I hate roller coasters.

So I decided that there was no way I was going to be able to make it through the week hungry and dizzy.  Both require my complete concentration.  I couldn't deal with both at the same time.  So I stopped dieting on day 2 of week 2.  Now that I have made it through the dizzy week and most of the symptoms have lessened, I have decided it is time to get back on the starvation wagon.  So on Monday I start the diet again.

The goal:  3 weeks from Monday I will be in the 250s.  Please!

Mean Mama

kindergarten homework

I am too depressed at what a failure I obviously am as a parent to talk about anything real that is going on in my life so instead I am going to write about how ridiculous I think the schools are.

She spends all day in school.  I drop her off at 8:45am and she goes off to her after school program at 3:45pm.  All day.   Homework started in October.  It was only about 5-10 minutes worth of homework each day so I tried not to complain.  I mean she is there all day... could they not find 5-10 minutes to do this last little thing with them?  But I did it with her.  I worked all day.  I picked her up.  I tried to catch up what had happened for her that day.  I cleaned up the kitchen (lunch and snack stuff).  I cooked dinner.  We ate dinner.  I did homework with her.  And then it was basically time for bedtime routines.  I would have loved that 10 minutes for something other than drilling my child.  Especially late in the day when she is tried and cranky and just done with the learning ideas.

But then homework started to increase.  Now they want more out of her.  And that means they want more out of me.  I get the importance of school.  I believe in education.  I want her to learn.  But this is also kindergarten.  Shouldn't she be learning how to color in the lines still?

So homework came home on Thursday night.  First we had a blow out (which luckily lasted less than an hour) so we had even less time for all the evening requirements.  By the time we sat down for homework she was in a good mood and I was spent.  On top of her normal homework (which has increased since October - including writing 3 sentences about a picture, writing a page in a journal about the stuffed frog that gets passed around the class, and practicing for a spelling test on Friday), she had to read an 8 page book and answer 4 questions about it.  A part of me was proud that she has moved up to level 3-4 in reading.  A part of me was pissed that my 6 year is expected to write this much for homework.

We read the book.  And we worked on answering the questions.  Keep in mind that her teacher is allowing homework to be done phonetically -- which is good.

The book was On The Go -- which is all about different modes of transportation.

1.  Who are the characters?  The pepl.

2.What is the setting?  When did the story happen?  Oat sid arond the world.

3. What are 3 or more things that happened? They rod.  They flu.  They swing.

4.  What does this story make you think about?  Wan we wint to grindmas.

Done.  Happy.  I help her.  I sit with her.  I encourage her.  I do not do her homework for her.  Not that my spelling would have been much better.  She turned it in.  The teacher sent it back home yesterday with a note on it.  Good job.  Please tell more details.

She is insane if she thinks I am going to do this homework with her again.  More details?  The damn book is only 8 pages long.  With one sentence on each page.  How much more detail does she want?  Either way she is going to be disappointed because I am not making Ladybug provide more detail.  I am not even telling Ladybug she wants more detail.

Mean Mama

Random thoughts

I have plenty of serious things to think about but no desire to do so...

So as I was driving home I was faced with a couple of situations that just made me go ...mmmmmmm

I stopped for gas.  I was pumping the gas.  I looked at the pump next to me and there was a guy filling his scooter.  Yes scooter.  Not a motorcycle.  A scooter.  He was a scruffy, hiking the Appalachian Trail type of guy.  But what caught my eye was what he was wearing.  Hiking boots -- I told you he looked like a hiker.  Shorts and long johns.  Shorts.  And long johns.  ????  mmmmmm.

And then I continued on my drive.  I got behind a car -- no idea if it was a man or a woman.  A normal sedan.  We got stopped at 4 lights.  Each time the driver would stop, leaving about 3-4 car lengths between her/him and the car in front of her/him. I don't really understand this.  But whatever.  But as soon as the light turned green he/she would start going and stay right on the tail of the car in front of him/her.  So while you are stopped you need a buffer of 3-4 car lengths but while you are driving along at about 45 miles per hour, 6 inches is enough of a buffer zone.  ????  mmmmmmm.

After I left the driver mentioned above I got stuck at another light -- I seemed to hit every light today.  As I waited for me turn to go.  A girl -- guessing high school -- walked across the street in front of me.  She was wearing a blue pair of short shorts and black pantyhose.  Shorts.  And black pantyhose.  ????  mmmmmmm.

But I continued on.  As I drove a woman -- yes, this time I knew it was a woman -- driving a mini van is behind me.  She is obviously frustrated at my driving -- because I am only going 10 miles over the speed limit.  Yes, I said OVER.  As we cross over and intersection she decides to pass me (double lanes so no danger).  She zips by me.  She pulls in front of me.  She puts on her brakes.  She slows down.  And makes a right hand turn at the very next intersection.  ?????  mmmmmm.

A few more lights go by and I get stopped at another red light.  I told you I hit every one going home tonight.  I look over at the car next to me.  It is a van.  A plumbing type work van.  And sitting in the front passenger seat was a toddler.  In a car seat.  About 2 years old.  A toddler.  In the front seat.  In a work van.  ????  mmmmmm.

Mean Mama

change of plans

I had another post planned for tonight -- yes trying to be better about blogging.  But I had the night from hell.  I fought.  With Ladybug.  I tried to stay calm.  And I did.  Except for the last 30 seconds.

It started with attitude.  Hates homework.  Hates helping.  Hates -- well, everything.
She refused to help out.  She wouldn't clean the living room -- it is all her junk.  She wouldn't look for her lost thermos.  She wouldn't pack her homework.  She wouldn't...
I gave her so many chances.  I used bribery.  I joked.  I promised her M&ms.  I promised her Idol.  I gave her one final time and finally I gave up and took Idol from her.  I can only give so many second chances before I need to follow through.

It all went down hill from there.

She refused to shower.  I had to actually undress her and put her in the shower.  While she showered she yelled at me how much she hated me.

After the shower it was more negative comments about helping out around the house.  How she shouldn't have to do anything she doesn't like.  And then she informed me that she peed in my bed last night.


She slathered herself in so much lotion she was actually white.  I use Carol's Daughter -- that stuff ain't cheap.

I tried to talk to her.   Don't go to bed mad?  More attitude.  More disrespect.  I am stupid... and mean... and hateful... nobody likes me.

I took her kitty and left the room.  I told her I would be back in a few minutes to try again.  I left.  Took a few deep breathes.  And went back.

She refused to talk.  Just demanding.  GET OUT!  LEAVE ME ALONE! GO AWAY!  She is demanding.


I took her doggy pillow pet.  I left the room.  I told her I would be back in a few minutes.

When I returned there was more of the same.  I decided to crawl in bed with her.  I decided to see if she would relax or calm down or something if we were physically close -- it has worked in the past.


So she started hitting me.  I restrained her - or tried to.  She bit me.  She kicked the wall.  She head butted me.  She scratched me.  She tried to puke on me - and I was surprised she couldn't (great gag reflex).

This started at 7pm.  By 7:40 we were physically fighting - see I gave her 40 minutes of reasoning to try to work this out.  By 8:50 I walked out.  I wasn't getting anywhere.  I had no more ideas.  I was done. I gave up.


She ended up losing all her stuffed animals.  So she threatened to destroy her room if I didn't give them back.  I didn't give them back.  So she started ripping her bed apart.  I put her on the floor with just a pillow and sheet.

The things she yelled at me since leaving her room included that she hates me, nobody loves me, I am dumb,  and stupid, I am the meanest person ever, she doesn't want to be a part of my family, and since nobody else loves me I should be the one to leave the family.

And the after all that I finally lost it.  I screamed at her.  I asked her what she wanted.  How did she want me to react to all this?  Her response?  I want American Idol.

She was finally done at about 9:15pm.

I am lost.

Mean Mama