Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
As much as you read about the chaos that goes on here on the blog, there's ten times a much good, boring, run of the mill stuff that happens, too. So, no, I do not think I'm a bad mother.
But I have reached another cross roads with Jax and have come to the conclusion that I have got to step up the discipline now or he's a goner.
The tantrums have become, in a word: unbearable. My sweet, funny, larger-than-life little boy truly seems to have some kind of monster residing inside his chunky little body, and it's time to exorcise it.
Something has to work, because Amy the Emotionally Fragile cannot take much more --
especially in public.
I'm going to spare you the nasty details, but let's just say that there were 2 incidents, and one of them ended with me half topless, groping around the produce section of the grocery store looking for my glasses.
Let the stare-down begin.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
I've got schedules and charts and calenders, OH MY, and still, still I manage to screw up 2 monumental landmarks in my child's lives.
First, Jax has begun going poo on the potty. As happy as I am about this milestone, it's one I've been not-so-secretly dreading for a while now. I've mentioned the carpet, yes?
So there we were, straining and squeezing in order to get some little toothpaste squirt out of his butt (that just got way nastier than I'd intended. Sorry.), and then "Woohoo", applause, applause, applause, he crawls down to look into the potty and finishes his crap on my bathroom floor.
Why was I not prepared for this? IT WASN'T ON THE SCHEDULE. Sheesh.
I have it clearly marked that he starts potty training once Ryan starts Kindergarten. Not 6 days sooner.
Do you remember that weird sister that Shelly Long had in "Hello Again", that kind of lady like the record store owner Annie Potts played in Pretty in Pink? Weren't they great and weird and funky and endearing? Yeah, to the moms at Ry's new gymnastics, I'm that lady. But not nearly as endearing and nowhere in the vacinity of great..
We started at a new, slightly more prestigious gymnastics academy than the YMCA today (Can you hear me gagging? Can ya?), and Ryan totally rocked the crowd. Not that I'm proud or anything, but she totally charmed those teachers into thinking it was cute that she hadn't listened and needed them to repeat themselves over and over. (We'll have to work on that.) Still, she did great, especially on the bars. I don't know what it is about her -- some physical anomaly from Shawn's side of the family I'm sure that gives her crazy strength in her upper body, but the kid has it. Seriously, it's sick.
I'd been anxious about making a good impression at this place, knowing that Ry may want to continue there for a while and all. Naturally, I failed miserably.
Great! Just point us where you want us. We herd ourselves into the tiny watching/waiting area, hearing teachers calling names while we try to figure out where sit. When I finally manage to get her shoes off, a line of little girls starts walking onto the mats. "I think that's your class," I say to her. "Go on out and ask the teacher if she called your name."
"Okay." She timidly goes off to talk to the teacher while I try to wrangle Jax when another gym lady stops her and asks her who she is and where's she supposed to be. Ryan turns and looks at me with such fear and utter shyness that I quickly jump to her aid, calling out to the instructor that she was supposed to go with Coach A, and that she was thinking maybe that was her on the floor. She was going to ask her if she'd called her name, I informed her.
"We haven't called names, yet," she said flatly, bending down to Ry and asking her name. She checks her list and - lo and behold - she is supposed to be out there on that mat with those kids, Smirking, I turn around to grab Jaxson, when I suddenly hear, "Whose little boy is that?" I look onto the gym floor and there's Jax up on the low beam, shit-grinnin' and jumping away.
I, naturally, start to laugh, but when I notice the looks on the other mom's faces, I decide that may not be the wisest option, and I run out to retrieve him. Not such a big deal. Until he starts fighting me, screaming, kicking and throwing a Classic Jax Attack. In the middle of the gym floor. With everyone watching.
(Later, Ryan told Shawn she was embarrassed about it. I rest my case.)
I breathe, put him in a choke-hold and carry him off the floor, to the sanctity of ...THE WAITING ROOM.
God, that place is a nightmare.
You know the "Perfect Moms" right away -- theye were there 10 minutes early, their kid has been here 2 years already (her radar clued into the place much sooner than mine, YMCA-loving freak that I am), she looks awesome in short brown hair, a REAL tan, no makeup, polo tee, j crew shorts and is happily bouncing her new baby on her knee. Did I mention she's already lost any baby weight she may (doubtful) have put on?
Then there are the "Ex-Cheerleader From A Small Town Moms", who I relate to only because they remind me of friends of mine who actually were small town High School cheerleaders, so I know they're not all that bad. But still...they sure have a lot of "pep". And they love to say things like "No WAY!" and "Good Deal!" and "SO AWESOME" a lot. It's just funny is all.
And then there are all the "Older Moms", who look like you imagine your mom might look now if she was your age: a little frumpy, but still attractive, just in kinda bad clothes. (No offense, mom.)
And then there was me. The mom who is always late, usually frantic, kid's hair is rarely brushed, with the funny-little-screaming-toddler-who's- really- not- that- funny- at- all- but- you- people- keep- laughing- at- him- so- he- thinks- he- is kid and the inability to control him whatsoever. Plus, I looked really weird yesterday, what with my "Green is Good" Tee, my silver ballet flats, and the turquoise necklace Ry put around my neck as we were getting out of the car. For good luck.
So we opt (are forced, whatever) to sit in the back corner away from everyone else, but that doesn't help, because right next to us is the other entrance onto the gym floor, which does nothing but tempt the devil a little bit further out of Jaxson.
This is new for me, kids. Normally, if this were church or something, we would all just suffer a little longer than necessary (as penance for what were were about to do) and then leave, but seeing as how Ry was in the middle of class, and I still wasn't clear on what the rules were in regards to leaving the premises, I was stuck. At her other gym class he was always in the nursery, and I could go work out if I wanted. I never HAD to sit through the whole thing and I never HAD to do it with Jax in tow. My days of running were over. I had to think quick.
I dug in my purse for change and was able to extract fifty cents, buying Jax a bag of cookies, and me some quiet time. Sure enough, 5 minutes later he finished the bag of cookies and had started banging on the plaxiglass-window, so I suggested we go look for toys in the car. We did. But all found was Ryan's stuffed pink poodle, FiFi, who had a metal-studded black leather belt tied around her neck like a leash. (I'll explain another time.)
Hey, if it makes the kid happy, I'm not about to argue.
(But boy, did he get a lot of compliments on that pretty pink dog of his.)
So anyway, we made it through the class, with a couple more escape attempts thrown in for fun, Ry did her thing and all ended well.
By Amy terms, anyway. I still managed to make an ass of myself on her first day at a new place, which may or may not hinder her ability to make friends with any of her class mates, but there's still kindergarten, which reminds me...Orientation is tonight, maybe I should just send Shawn solo??
Monday, August 20, 2007
Stupidly, and with stars in my eyes, I agreed to let Ryan have an end-of-summer slumber party, and went to town making hand-made invites for each of the 3 girls who would be anointed with the pure pleasure of spending the night at Casa del York.
Not only that, but I had promised Ryan that we could make personalized stationary for each of the girls as a take-home party favor, a task I quickly regretted agreeing to, seeing as how none of the moms really knew what to say about the gifts, and the girls didn't even know what they were. That, and it takes me about 2 hours to make 4 cards. Cest la vie! I had fun and Ry was pleased, so what more can you ask for??
We made individual pizzas,
ate lots of brownies, and the girls spent the majority of the time floating between watching High School Musical 2 and playing a game they made up call "Mystery girls", the foundation of which I quickly learned came from the fact that they had, as it got darker, turned out the lights, turned on their flashlights and proceeded to follow the mystery "footprints" that had been left all around the house. When they were finally able to get me to come play along, it was to my major embarrassment and minimal joy that I saw the 'footprints" they were following were actually just all the nasty stains and spills that cover our carpets. Nice.
I'm just glad I was able to aid them in the imagination process. Then I built a huge fort, where they played incessantly, until someone decided to venture to the blackness of the backyard to hunt for MONSTERS. One guess which girl that was...
Shawn had swept Jax away with him the minute the first girl showed up, and finally returned around 10:30 after watching the Cowboys game at Ginger's. The girls were totally stoked to see Jax, and he soaked up the adoration. It reeked of foreshadowing.
Nestled in their comfy couch bed in front of the tv, they eventually fell asleep to Curious George, but not before the last of the tattling brought with it orders from me for everyone to "take a deep breath, and take turns". I laughed as I overheard the tattler repeat my words to the rest of the gang, declaring that "Miss Amy said to take turns, and that you, you, you and me all have to take a deep breath." And then they did.
I wish I'd had time to jot down every humorous thing overheard, but with all the card-making, kitchen cleaning, fort-building and running tattle-tale interference, I could not do much more than laugh with no one at the funny things that came flying out of the mouths of 5 -yr-old little girls.
Anyway, Sunday morning came roaring into our room at 7:30 am, and I quickly grabbed Jax and went in search of chocolate-sprinkled donuts, leaving Shawn to fend off the she-beasts on his own.
One by one, the girls took their leave, and finally, blessedly, at 12:30 the last one left and all four of us retreated upstairs for a nap. And nap we did.
But now the mess remains, I have online BTS shopping to complete, and someone has to do something about the growing expanse of my backside, so it might as well be me. Thank God for the YMCA's free childcare.
Didn't I tell you? Mother of the Freakin' Year.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Along with the rest of the Disney-watching community, we have been on HM2 alert for the majority of the week, so my lifting the ban a day before the premiere was a little like how I imagine bringing home a pony would be.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Hence this little diatribe, overheard this morning at breakfast:
(As they are watching a cartoon that asks them to find an object on the screen)
Ry: "You didn't find it Jax, I did, so I'm smarter than you...Well, I mean, you're smart, too, just not that smart."
To which Jaxson replied by shoving an entire pop tart into his mouth and growling.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Saturday, August 11, 2007
"Well...I mean, I like what you're wearing it looks good, but , well, you know...I don't want you to get your feelings hurt, it's just, well, I really like it when you wear a dress better and when your hair is long and pretty."
"So I need to either wear a dress or grow my hair, huh?"
"Well, you wouldn't have to wear a dress. You could wear that shirt. "
"Just so long as my hair is long, right?"
"YES! Okay? YES! I LIKE YOUR HAIR LONG!!!GROW IT PLEASE!"
(laughing)"Hey, I want it long, too, but there's not much I can do to make it grow faster."
"I know,"folding her hands, "Dear God, please let my mom's hair grow!"
Friday, August 10, 2007
Between chuckles he replied, "Yeah he laid down. And then he peed straight up in the air."
Which then led us to changing for bed, wherein in an effort to stall, he approached me at my desk, picked up a picture I had printed off the computer, and declared, "Good Job, Mommy! Is Beautiful! Look, Lola. Mommy Good Job." (apparently he speaks in first intial upper-caps) Very convincing.
The best thing about it is that he completely devotes to the scene. I think he may be my little actor. Don't tell Shawn.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Yesterday we spent a copious amount of time lining up his various "Cars" cars, an activity he takes great care to perfect.
At one point he beckoned me to the big room to lay on the floor next to him and admire his work, all 4 cars lined up against the wall. After sitting and watching the cars for, oh 45 seconds, I was ready to move on.
"Good job, buddy." I said, sticking my fist out to him, "pound it."
Rather than respond with the appropriate hand maneuver that he so frequently uses with Shawn, he grinned at me, then proceeded to pound the crap out of his cars.
One step at a time, people. One step at a time.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
The glorious gifts God had bestowed...
Friday, August 3, 2007
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Can't wait to see what the rest of the day holds!