It's our mess

Alright. So maybe we aren't quite 'in the groove' yet. I think we are more like, "HEY, today was a pretty good day compared to the last 712." Although it's only been what? 4 weeks? How is that even possible?? 

Today felt hectic. It just felt messy and hard to manage. I lost control almost immediately after breakfast and never really regained it. 

Daisy didn't feel like doing her school work and to be honest she only attends three days a week so I should really keep that in mind. I tend to forget that now that we are doing it all at home. 

Scarlett has trouble sitting still and focusing at home. Too many distractions here. She gets caught up in commenting on EVERY SINGLE POST in google classroom and she's learned how to email her teachers with questions now so that takes up about 97% of her time. (Sorry, teachers). 

I start the day by reading any emails and all instructions from teachers, making sure I know what is expected of both girls. I save all files and out print everything - anyone else going through ink and paper faster than that 1-ply toilet paper you were lucky to score at Family Dollar? I can't be the only one. I let Scarlett choose the order in which she does her assignments but I'll be honest, if it's nice outside I toss the two of them out each morning. Fresh air and exercise!

I almost always miss information or forget about a class Zoom meeting. And when we do get on them we get kicked off at least twice. And I have no tolerance for that stuff. These virtual meetings are killing me slowly, a little more each day. We currently have about 8 or 9 weekly. 

In other news, I am very lenient with P.E. assignments because I figure if they are outside running around for 2 hours that is a pretty good substitute. I hand out snacks roughly every twenty nine seconds - flying through Goldfish and Craisins, yogurt and nonsense fruit twist things. I check in with Scarlett every so often to see what she has left to work on I crack the whip a bit. Daisy will usually do one or two dittos and then we play with Magna Tiles or her favorite game - Petco. Yes. She asks me to play Petco with her everyday. I am the customer looking for whichever animal she chooses to be at the time. A bunny. A ferret. An orange kitten with gray ears and purple spots. You get the idea. She cozies up under a blanket on the floor and makes squeaky animal noises. I ask if she is for sale and then scoop her up and take her home with me. Game doesn't end there. It repeats. Over and over again. For eleven straight hours. And yes, I know I will absolutely miss this one day. 

That's what we need to keep in mind right now, I think. We will all miss these days ONE DAY. Maybe not in the near future because we are all just about burned completely out. But maybe ten years from now. We will inevitabley see an old picture of them and wish to see them that way again. I will be begging a 15 year old girl to lay on the floor and pretend she's a green guinea pig and she will probably tell me to cut the shit and get lost. 

If we are lucky enough to be home with our family right now then we truly have it all. It's a proper mess, no doubt, but it's our mess... and it WILL be a memory one day. If you can pause for a moment and take a breath, remember to count your blessings. 

Keep on keepin' on! 
xo 

Scarlett Letter #9

Dear Sweet Scarlett,

You are now eleven months and two weeks old! When will this end!??! You are much like a sponge these days, just absorbing everything we teach you - and things that we didn't realize we were teaching you! Your latest surprise was the hand gestures for The Itsy Bitsy Spider. I sang the song to you twice one morning and that evening you were motioning those little hands all over the place. My heart nearly doubled. It is amazing - to say the least - watching you becoming YOU. Your personality is nothing short of awesome. I love your silliness, your ability to understand when something is funny, your devilish grin and animated eyes. Let's face it, I love everything about you.

What you love most: 

Mickey Mouse Clubhouse - mainly Pluto, the little puppy Bella and the "kitty-cat" Figaro. You always get excited to see the beginning of the show and you always, always dance to The Hot Dog Dance and wave bye-bye as the characters all go home.

Brody - You love to watch him walk around the house and play rambunctiously outside in the back yard. You've recently started to enjoy watching him eat and drink. He's pretty noisy so it always attracts your attention.

Being outside - We put your Around We Go entertainer on the deck the other day and you were loving every second of it! We've had to keep you away from your pretty, pink swing lately because we've had a nasty bee problem. Daddy and Brody were stung several times and Daddy tried spraying them away but they were stubborn! Mama ended up calling "the bug guys" and they took care of those bees for you. It's time to swing again, babygirl!

Exploring - I think your favorite thing to do is to roam the house. In and out of the rooms, zooming around, bruising up your little knees. (You won't wear the heart/band-aid knee pads I got you!) I make sure to sweep up and vacuum the dog hair before we let you loose. You love playing in the hampers- pulling out all of your clothes. You also enjoy the air that comes out of the humidifier - even as I tell you, "no-no" you just smile. You love standing up at the deck slider looking out into the yard at the big tree and watching Bro. And for some reason you have a thing for straps - so you like to stand at your highchair and fiddle with those for a while. You giggle and giggle and giggle as we chase you with stomping feet down the hallway. I hope we can always make you giggle that way.

Vegetables - I am SO SO SO happy that you've been such a great eater so far. I realize that can (and most likely will) quickly change. But for now, when I spread out a variety of food on your tray you always grab the greens first. Broccoli, asparagus, green beans, etc. You love sweet potatoes too. And I tried peppers with you again this week and you ate them right up! You have a very healthy diet and I'm very proud of that. I promise to always try to give you 90% healthy and 10% treats.

Your room - Daddy and I spent long hours dreaming up and creating that beautifully sweet room for you. It makes me so happy to see your face light up each time we enter it.

The beach and pool - You've had a wonderful first summer! You really enjoyed going in your inflatable pool at Grammie's house and we even brought it to the beach! I'm so happy that you seem to love the beach! I could've done without the handfuls of sand in your mouth but ... it happens. You didn't even flinch as the waves came hurdling toward you, crashing on your little legs. It may not have been very relaxing for Mama or Grammie but you sure had a blast and that's all that we care about. Daddy and I will take you a lot more next year! You also had your very first taste of Aunt Carrie's clamcakes and chowder!

I guess I could go on and on writing about the things you love - you seem so happy all the time, it appears you love just about everything. Although I can say with conviction that you do NOT love: teething and cherry tomatoes. You've handled your teething remarkably well considering but tomatoes... not so much. Ha Ha.

Mama has been very busy planning your very first birthday! We want everything to be special for you. You're the most special thing in our lives and you've brought us all so much joy - we just want to honor you the best way that we can on your big day. Apparently, to me, that means lots and lots of rainbows. I've been busy making cupcake toppers, signs, invitations, thank you cards, favor tags, flag banners, etc. And Daddy has been spending his weekends working in the back yard - painting the shed and renovating the deck! We are hoping for an outdoor party so keep those little fingers crossed for sunshine!

Today we may have bought your very last tub o' formula! Oh, how the months have just flown by. This past year has been amazing. I hope the next twelve months bring us even more happiness together. Love you "sooooooooooooo much!" xoxo

Mama

I love you more today than yesterday - but not as much as tomorrow. 

small talk sucks

I'm now a small-talker. I guess. Or is it considered "small talk" when you are conversing about someone's child? I'm not entirely sure. Regardless, I am now one of those people who talk to strangers. No, don't make the mistake, I'm not a friendly person... just a small-talker.

It's been slowly building up over the past year. When I was pregnant random people felt the need to know my due date, the sex of the baby, the name of the baby, what hospital I would be delivering at and so on. When I started bringing Scarlett on errands we would be, at times, the center of attention. Elderly ladies are especially interested in who's in the baby carrier. Lots of peeks, smiles, waves and friendly oohs and ahhs would ensue. It's actually a pretty great feeling to know that these complete strangers are in awe of the little person that you helped to create. But as of today I've reached a level I wasn't expecting to reach. I think it's called the my daughter is almost nine months old so ask me a shit-ton of questions and tell me everything you've done for your child who is slightly older stage. Or something like that.

The Nap-Gestapo

Okay baby, you have a fifteen minute window to poop startiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing (clicks stopwatch) NOW - Go!

Too rigid? Perhaps, but exactly how carefree can I be without unraveling like a cheap-ass sweater you'd find at the local drug store? I'm the type of person that thrives on organized regimens and control. I demand that my baby girl's ass explodes before I put her in the Christening dress, I admit it. If the clipboard says 'it's time for peas and a bottle' you'd better believe that my girl will be green-snouted and pot-bellied within the half hour.

So, is that such a BAD thing? Having a finely tuned schedule that works for everyone? I don't think it is. It did take about five months to really get it all down. Until that point it was a grab bag of semi-controlled chaos at best. I realize that babies do their own thing. I know they follow their own natural paths. I get it. But is it so wrong to want to help them along and maybe benefit from it in my own sneaky way? Nah.

It's not like I can't go with the flow to a certain extent. I mean, I don't believe that Scarlett is going to eat, crap and nap at the same exact times every day. I don't naively think that her routines won't change a thousand and forty eight more times before she is two. I've heard that as moms we are supposed to surrender all control and just let things go as they will. That's just not gonna fly with me.

Everything works well for us on a daily basis but occasionally we run into a few snags. Like, for instance, if we are invited out at night. BEFORE, when Scarlett wasn't going to bed until 11pm it wasn't an issue. But NOW that she has her last bottle at 7:30pm and is in bed by 8 o'clock - I don't want to mess with that. I like to be home by 7 o'clock with the baby in her cozy sleeper, wound down, soothed and ready for slumber. If we stay out later than that she's all out of sorts. Overtired and over-stimulated. It has taken up to two weeks to get her back on track in the past. It's simply not worth it.

So for now, I continue to carry my clipboard and click my stopwatch. I am running the show - with Scarlett as my co-host. A bit of role-reversal? Yeah, maybe... but I like it this way. And she does too. Her beautiful, consistent smile is all the proof I need.

I wrote this post based on The Lightning and the Lightning Bug's 

Flicker of Inspiration Prompt #42: Killer First Line.

 

Old Lady Leach

It's happened.

I've become that angry old lady on the block. You know the one who glares out the window at the street kids riding their bikes, making sure they aren't in her driveway about to clip her twelve year old Honda with their handlebars. The one who rushes out onto the front stairs, clad in slippers and pajamas yelling sternly at the jerks to stop taunting her dog. Yep. That's me now. I'm her. I'm Old Lady Leach. Sigh.

Well, it's not my fault. I was thrown into this situation, really. We moved here over five years ago and each year it's gotten worse. As the cul-de-sac kids get older they apparently get douchey-er. And they're not like Dennis the Menace douchey. I'd kill to have a good-hearted little blondie who accidentally mowed over my flowers (we don't have flowers) with his wagon while trying to catch a "robber". Instead we have this gang of little bastards that I on occasion have wished harm upon.  That's right. HARM. Think all the less of me you like - YOU try living here.

The ringleader is appropriately enough the worst one and a complete prick. He's about thirteen I'd guess, scrawny, pants hanging off his ass, ALWAYS on his phone - riding his bike with one hand and texting with the other. He thinks he is the epitome of cool. I will assure all of you - he is not. He feels that the neighborhood is his kingdom. Running into everyone's yard, jumping on fences, spray-painting fences, leaping off front porch railings etc. Never in his own yard, mind you. Then there are his cronies. Because every little prick has to have a cronie or two. There are about four regulars who follow him around like he is the Grateful Dead. They'll do anything he does, says or tells them to do. I watch as they follow almost directly in his footsteps. They are all younger by about two to four years. Then there is this GIRL. And I put the word in capitals because I want to emphasize my disgusted voice while saying it. She appeared out of nowhere at the house across the street about two years ago. We have no idea who she is but she sucks. She's about fourteen and a rotten, rotten witch. Last week she sat in the car in her driveway for about forty-five minutes while the elderly lady/car owner screamed "GET OUTTA THE CAAAAAARRRR" in her less-than beautiful voice. That was such a zen moment for me.

My least favorite activity these freakshows play is "Let's torment Brody". Because my dog clearly doesn't bark enough. He's a German Shepherd/Akita mix. He likes to bark at people that are too near our house, he's a bit protective that way. Hence the sign...

Brody is not a mean dog, he's friendly and adorable, but for obvious reasons we bought the sign. I've caught the kids barking at him before - not a big deal. I don't like it but I understand, they're kids. They're a little old for it, but whatever. Then I caught them taunting him. Yelling at him. And a couple of weeks ago, the ringleader actually cursed a web of profanity at him and then ran up into our yard and jumped onto our chain-link fence - the fence that Brody was behind. While Bro was going ballistic I ran out into the front yard like a snapped lunatic and shouted "You need to knock it off, leave the dog alone!" (Sounds so hilarious to picture but I was shaking and ready to beat someone's ass). They looked at me, in their cool little gang, didn't bat an eyelash, didn't make a sound. Gradually during the following ten minutes they filed into another neighbor's yard. No apology, no whispers, no 'go shit in your hat', nuthin. I was livid.

Yesterday a similar situation went down. The GIRL across the street was standing directly in front of our house dancing around and shouting at Brody to get him to bark. Naturally he did. She then started barking back at him and yelling at him to shut up. After watching her shout and curse at my dog for a couple of minutes I threw open the front door and yelled at her, "You need to STOP yelling at my dog!" She and her friend walked away and I saw her throw her head back laughing. Funny, right? I could have nailed her chubby ass to her tree in that moment. BUT I cooled off in my recliner... wishing that we could sell this house and move. No peace. No peace here whatsoever. And the fact that the parents just don't give a shit crawls right up my spine.

I cannot imagine being a child and disrespecting my neighbors - my mother would have grounded me for weeks. If I saw cars in the driveway I wouldn't set foot on the grass never mind in the driveway or on their FENCE! I would have apologized up and down and been a mortified nervous wreck if a neighbor came out and yelled at me. I am appalled by what the world is coming to. Where are these parents? It's a small street! Lord knows I can hear everyone's fights and tantrums - I KNOW you can hear me shouting at your children after they torture my dog. Get with it, people. I'm putting this sign up tomorrow...

  

coming clean ... a little

Me: "Mr. Mullen, remember when you duct taped my side mirror on my old Sundance after I hit that car?"

Mr. Mullen: "Of course."

My mom listened in on this conversation, HORRIFIED. Where were we? Church. For a friend's wedding ceremony. What better a place to come clean about past lies I'd told my mother than a church?

Isn't it funny how after a certain number of years pass we feel it is okay to start leaking the truth to our parents? As a teen I had my share of hidden gems and probably your share and your friends' share as well. I kept them tucked away in my memory and some written in code in my journal. These tales became twisted over the years as my memory isn't what it used to be. I often wonder how honest my truth actually is - am I even remembering it the right way?

I did a lot of foolish things after high school. I was carefree, reckless ... invincible. Or so I thought. I spent a lot of my nights partying. I looked to my friends to be my family. And they were. Or so I thought. My father did a lot of the same things I did so I didn't really think my parents had a case to argue. My mother had never been drunk a day in her life. She lumped pot in with crack and heroin. It was all the same to her. She was nosy and overprotective. Or so I thought. I remember her demanding that I stay home just one night a week - and I refused. WHY would I ever do that? (Now, to get me out of the house on a Saturday night it has to be well worth my while). I did whatever I wanted to do. I stayed out all hours of the night, didn't come home at all a lot of times. How could my parents stop me? They couldn't shackle me up in the cricket playground (cellar). They couldn't take my car from me since I bought it and paid for my insurance. What were their options?

I filled the calendar years with harmless white lies. I figured what they didn't know wouldn't put them in the ground. When the passenger side mirror was hanging from my car I explained to my mother that some cretin must have hit my car in the parking lot while I was working. I think she actually felt bad for me (which kind of breaks my heart) - if she even fell for it. The truth: I had hit a car while backing down a street clumsily and chose to speed away and avoid that street for two weeks. It wasn't until six years had passed that I fessed up - to my mom anyway. (I still feel horrible about the hit and run. Feel free to think even less of me).

Slowly I am fessing up to a lot of the dumb things I did during those years. What made me feel so cool back then makes me feel like a huge asshole now. Funny how that happens, huh?

Becoming a mother has made me aware of sooooooooo many things. I look at the world with different peepers for sure. The mere thought of Scarlett doing to me (and my husband) what I've done to my parents is almost too much to handle. I will deserve every rotten word she says to me and I'll need this post to remind me of why I am being punished after being such a loving and gracious mom.

Sorry, Mom. Those crappy years were just my stepping stones. I needed to treat you like dirt to become a wonderful person I guess. Hehe.

Do you come clean as years pass or are you keeping your secrets forever? 

Has becoming a mother changed the way you look at your own past life?

2 hours... GO!

Last night (Friday night) I recommended that my husband take the baby to his sister's house for a visit while I stay home and get a little break time. Normally we would go together and although I always SAY that I'd like to leave early - I never do. Before I know it, it's 11 o'clock and we're screwed. Before baby, it wouldn't matter what time we left - but now I have learned that one false move and POOF goes the schedule. And it can take up to two weeks to get this baby back on track. ANYWAY, that was my master plan.