School days

I know school days are crazy for all moms. I just wonder if they're the same kind of crazy as ours. Do you ever wonder if your crazies are the same as other people's?

I start my mornings very early, to give myself time to prepare for the messiness ahead. I want to be peaceful and calm.  I get up a good hour and a half before my daughter so I can relax, drink coffee, and watch the news. I want to know what the weather will be like so I can dress her appropriately. I want to know what's going on in the world. It makes our household chaos seem more ridiculous and less maddening.

When it comes time to wake Blue up, I do so gently, with kisses and kind words. I welcome her into the day. She generally starts with a smile, and tells me she loves me. That lasts about two seconds, until I tell her to get up, then she throws the covers back over her head and tells me to stop talking. I explain, daily, that it's time to get up for school and that we'll be late if she doesn't get up and get ready. She needs to get out of bed now. She refuses, and I have to pull the covers off and cajole her out of bed. This results in some screeching noises that only some weird animals should make.

She goes to the bathroom, then heads downstairs, where she plops down in my chair and insists on playing games on my phone. I tell her no, of course, which turns into, no, not until you're dressed. This gets her motivated, but then she hates the weather-ready clothes I've chosen for her. She shrieks again when the clothes go on, and tears them off. She insists that she hates them and won't wear them. I tell her to find her own clothes, and she refuses. She tells me to find some for her. I smack myself in the forehead. (I'm getting a callous in that spot from our daily exchanges.)

After several outfits, I finally find some clothes she's amenable to, and get them on her. At this point, I'm overwhelmed by the sense of victory, and I feel like I should be done, but I haven't even touched her waist-length blond hair yet, and that's where the biggest challenge lies. sigh.

So I regroup, and tell her it's time to do her hair.

She digs in her heels, balls up her fists, and screams.

I tell her she's not going anywhere without getting her hair done. She tries to bargain. "Just don't do my hair today, mom. You can do it tomorrow instead." I don't know why she does this. It never works. But she tries every day. Then she says, "Fine, I'm not going to school."

"Of course you're going to school," I say.

I finally cave and give her my phone to play with while I brush her hair, but that doesn't keep her from screaming throughout the entire exercise as though I'm pulling out her toenails one by one with pliers. She even goes so far as to scream, "Help me, Daddy! Help me!" She tries to run a couple times, at least, during this exercise. She doesn't succeed because I've got a hold of her hair. But finally, I get all her hair combed, and braided for school.

Then, she has to get her shoes and socks on, but by this point, she's so uncooperative that it's nearly impossible to get them on, and it usually takes both Daddy AND me to get them on her.

At this point, we're nearly late for school, despite how early I woke her up, and we grab her backpack and coat and run out the door.

I get back from taking her to school with a sigh of relief. Seven hours before her temper comes home. lol

* I should mention that she doesn't typically act like this in the evenings much anymore, and that there are mornings that she doesn't act like this either, but not most. 

10 Christmas Break Wishes that Would Make Mommy Happy

1. The lunch lady should show up at my house at lunch time and serve hot lunch, (What, I have the wherewithal to provide a THIRD meal a day?)

2. Daily playdates should be prearranged, with all the kids at school, and supervised by school staff. Right around recess time.

3. Homework SHOULD be provided - a set amount each day. I need more stuff to keep idle hands busy.

4. Christmas break should begin the day before Christmas so there's no time for snooping around the house looking for presents.

5. Break should only be a week long unless mom's a marathon runner. (Even then I'm not sure two weeks work. Ladies? Feedback?)

6. Anyone expecting my kids to get dressed over break is outta luck. They get a break from school, I get a break from laundry.

7. I should truly be able to reserve the right to cancel Christmas for bad behavior, and the kids should really know it.

8. The school should hand out funds and take the kids to shop for ME.

9. A babysitter should be provided at least half the days the kids are home, just so I can get my stuff done.

10. Spa days should be provided at the end of Christmas break for ALL moms. We've earned them at this point. At least three.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

So, after the terrible drive home on Christmas, we were left with about 6-9 inches of snow out in front of my house. Which is a huge pain when I have to shovel, but it's amazing for Blue, who got to play in it several times yesterday and today.

She got all bundled up and ran outside. She hasn't been able to play in the snow, but maybe once in her life before, so her excitement was epic. She took off running, then just fell over, landing on her face in the soft snow. It was hysterical. She laid there for a minute, then she rolled over and made a snow angel. Then she got up, surveyed her work, found it satisfactory, and moved along to the next task, making a snowball. She found that impossible with this snow, so she threw it up in the air instead, making it seem like it was snowing on her. Then, she started running back and forth, falling every so often just for the sake of falling. She took some time to get on her belly and scoop snow into a pile using her whole self. Then she made some more snow angels.

It was only about ten minutes before she had to come in and thaw out. So the next time she got to go outside, she had a plan. She started building a little igloo. She's making a pile of snow, carrying it painstakingly from other areas to the one area she's chosen, then piling it and patting it down solid. (This igloo will have no room inside, I think. Just a couple little dents where the doors should be.) Then she'd go pick some up from somewhere else and bring it to the spot, then get some from somewhere else... and so on. By the time she was done and had to come in, it was about the size of a bottle of laundry detergent.

Then, today when we went out, there were a bunch of geese out there. (I'm not sure if I've mentioned the geese. The Poshlands are full of geese. Overrun by them. Our sidewalks are covered by goose crap and you can't drive through here without having to stop and wait for geese to cross the road.) Anyway, there were geese out today, and Blue took great pleasure in throwing snow puffs at them, then chasing them away, watching them fly off in a great blast of snow.

Once all that mischief was done, she made some more snow angels, then she found some  big chunks of hard snow by the street. She threw those at the wall until they exploded all over her, covering her with snow and making it look like she was a snow beast herself!

All in all, the white Christmas turned out pretty well for our little Blue, I think. She's already scheming for tomorrow, but won't tell me her plans. ;)

It's a White Christmas!

Having a white Christmas isn't really that important to me. It can be charming when it snows on Christmas Eve a little bit so there's a thin blanket of white on Christmas morning. But the blizzard I just had to drive home through was the opposite of charming. It was alarming. It had just gotten dark, the roads were a mess, visibility was terrible, and I was sliding all over the place. The fifteen minute drive took me over an hour and nearly gave me an embolism. I have no idea whether I was in a lane at all for most of the drive. And it was all highway driving, even.

That said, Christmas was lovely. Hubby woke me early this morning, as is his daily habit, and we hung out a little bit, then we woke the little one. (I know, I know, she's supposed to wake us up. We couldn't help it.) She got a pair of roller skates, a three year journal (that's a great present for a 6-year-old to be excited about, but she actually shrieked with delight), a Monster High coffee shop, a microphone on a stand, and a Monster High scooter. She was thrilled. She spent the morning scootering from one side of the house to the other.

Then we got dressed and went to my mother-in-law's house, whom I love dearly. She always cooks up a storm, and the meal is awesome. Today was no exception. AND, there were presents for me, which I was totally surprised by. I wasn't expecting any. I got a new, super-soft set of jammies, which is like heaven for me, and a pair of super-soft fuzzy socks, which is like a tiny slice of heaven. When I'm home, I prefer to be in jammies and fuzzy socks. I'm NEVER dressed. I got a new hand fan. (You know, the kind you hold and fan yourself with, like a lady in waiting or something? I always carry one of those with me everywhere I go.) I got a GORGEOUS leopard print and brown infinity scarf from my sister-in-law, along with some new underwear and some makeup. (Everyone gets me makeup. I love makeup. I never have enough makeup,) I got a handful of other things too, and it was a really pleasant surprise.

Dinner was wonderful. It's always so nice to sit around the table and eat with the whole family on holidays. I enjoy it so much. But the snow started just as we finished eating, and we had to hurry and leave right away. We didn't even have time to bring home leftovers. :(

We got home, and Blue scootered herself around until she was tired enough for bed, then I came and sat down here to write, and that was the day. A lovely Christmas, if I do say so myself. A million things to be grateful for this year. As I think back over the past few days, there's just one thing after another that I'm thankful for.

Merry Christmas Eve!

Nothing can bring me down today. I'm so excited about Christmas. Tonight, we're going to my mom's house, and then tomorrow morning, Blue wakes up to all her gifts, brought to us by our angel, then we go to Hubby's mom's house for our Christmas feast. 

A few minutes ago, there was a knock on my door, and when I opened it, it was a cop. NEVER good news. I was preparing to go to jail, of course. For unpaid tickets and a revoked license. (That's happened to me before, and I was arrested.) He asked if I was me, I said yes. He said he was there as a representative of the Denver PD, and that he was there to give me this... And he pulled out a steering wheel lock from behind his back. He said he'd noticed my car had been stolen twice, and for Christmas, they wanted to give me the lock to try and deter thieves. I was so relieved I gave him a hug. I didn't bother to tell him I'd already bought one. This one looks better and stronger anyway. Besides, maybe I can give one to my mother-in-law - she has to park outside. 

I'm telling you, nothing can spoil this day, it's too perfect. 

Not even Blue throwing the temper tantrum she just threw about getting her hair washed. Not even that can spoil my day. I just handled it and moved on. Her hair is now washed, and I'm super excited about seeing her get dressed in the Christmas dress the lovely lady brought over for her yesterday. 

Tonight, we're going to my mom's house, as I mentioned. This is special, as my mom has breast cancer. It makes my time with her that much more meaningful. She's tired, and the radiation has made her fatigued and causes her a lot of pain. We won't be there too long, as it wears her out, but we're going, and that's awesome. Both my brothers and my sister will be there, and so will my nephew, and that'll just be tops.

I'm telling you, my mood cannot be brought down today by anything!

Here comes Christmas break...

...with Blue having the flu. They called me from school Friday morning to tell me her fever was almost 102, so I got her in to the doc, and they confirmed, it's the flu. So that cancels the weekend activities she was looking forward to. And gives me one whiny baby to start out Christmas break with.

To her credit, she's not as whiny as she could be for as high as her fever has been. Poor thing. Doc wouldn't even give her Tamiflu even though I got her there in time. Makes me wonder who they DO give it to.

So here come the holidays! I can't wait for Christmas this year. We're so blessed. Not only because Hubby is healthy, thank goodness, but because there are kind people who help us give our daughter a Christmas. Kind people keep us going a lot. We take advantage of food banks to keep us in food, and we use an alumni program from a shelter I stayed on to keep us stocked with things like toilet paper and shampoo, things we couldn't otherwise afford. But Christmas is a big one.

A few years ago I met a Christmas angel. She has her own kids, but they're all grown and gone. She spends the months before Christmas buying gifts for kids she finds that wouldn't have Christmas gifts otherwise, and she SPOILS them. My daughter is one she has adopted. This woman is an amazing woman. She told me she starts having nightmares in August that her Christmas plans won't be completed in time, that's how much effort and focus she puts into making this happen for all these children.

I years past, she's brought trash bags full of gifts for our daughter. It's literally been crowded in our house with all the gifts she brings. She said she doesn't think it's ok for kids to miss out on that part of the magic of Christmas. So she does what she can for as many people as she can. She gets her whole family in on it. When her kids come home for Christmas, they all help too. I've been to her house right before Christmas. It's empty except for piles of toys with names on top. They scramble to deliver at the last minute, trying to keep deliveries a secret from the kids. When I was at her house, it looked like she must do this for fifty kids. Maybe more.

She doesn't pick the kids at random. She follows them every year and if parents still need help, she does it every year, We've needed the help. Truth be told, we couldn't afford a single gift. We're so blessed to have her in our lives. She makes Christmas morning for our daughter. We're so grateful, there ARE no words.

It wasn't a stroke.

Saturday night, my husband was acting kinda confused. My niece was here, though, and my daughter had a meltdown, and I got preoccupied with that. So it wasn't until I woke up Sunday morning that I realized my husband was REALLY confused. He was unable to finish a sentence. He couldn't tell me anything. He kept lighting things on fire. He ate a gum wrapper. He kept burning a knife, then putting it in his mouth. I wanted to take him to the hospital, but he didn't want to go, and I couldn't make him leave. I kept thinking, what if he's like this forever? All day, I doted and worried over him, waiting to see if I could make a change.

There was another time, about two years ago, when his sodium had gotten really low, and it had caused him to be very confused. But it wasn't THAT confused, and it took DAYS for it to come on. I hoped this was a sodium issue, but there was a part of me that kept screaming STROKE. I was terrified. I was afraid he'd never be able to tell me he loved me again.

I called his mom. I told her what was going on. He refused to talk to her. She said I couldn't make him go to the hospital if he didn't want to go, so I may as well just watch him and hope it didn't get worse. If it did, we'd take it from there.

He refused to go to the hospital. I couldn't make him get up and go. He kept running a knife across a comb then trying to set the scrapings on fire. He wouldn't go to the hospital. He kept unwrapping gum, chewing the gum, then taking it in and out of his mouth, while he set the wrappers on fire. He wouldn't go to the hospital. I wondered if I'd have to watch him this closely for the rest of his life.

Throughout this, my neice and daughter were there, getting scared watching what he was doing.

I took the comb away. I took the gum away. I took the lighters away, but he just kept finding more. Every time he did something like this, I tried to get him to agree to go to the hospital, but he refused, and kept on refusing.

My daughter screamed at him, "Daddy, go to the hospital!"

He got a screwdriver, and kept heating up the end and putting it in his mouth. It's a wonder he didn't get burned. But he wouldn't go to the hospital.

Finally, around 1:30, I called his sister and asked her to come pick up my niece. I told her I was sorry,  but I couldn't handle both girls and Hubby at the same time, with him acting so crazy, and being so worried about him. She said no problem, and she showed up a couple hours later.

She came in the door and sat down to talk to him. It wasn't long before she was as concerned as I was, and it took about an hour for her to decide to make him go to the hospital. We got the girls ready to go, she heated up her truck, then she loaded them all in her truck and followed me to the hospital. I drove my own car because I knew they were going to admit him, I knew it was serious.

We got to the ER and they got him back pretty fast. There weren't many people there. I told them his symptoms, and that he'd had a bout previously with low sodium that caused him to act with confusion, though not like this. It had been caused by one of his medications (he's got PTSD, and takes several medications, one of which depletes the sodium in the body.)

They scheduled him for a CAT scan, a chest X-Ray, a blood panel, a blood culture, and everything else under the sun. Thank god.

It wasn't long before they came in and said his sodium was low again. Normal range is 135-139, and his was 120. That meant he was in the range of seizure risk/death risk. Not only that, they found that he had pneumonia, and so they started treating him for that right away too.

Normally, it would take 2-3 days for one's sodium level to raise high enough to be discharged, but it only took his one night. So we're back at home, and he's thinking and acting normal again.

But during that time he was acting so crazy, I can't begin to tell you how worried I was. I was scared that he'd be that way forever. I was afraid that he'd never be able to tell me he loved me again. I was afraid he'd never be able to talk to our daughter again. He said, at the time, that the words were in his head, but he couldn't say them. I couldn't imagine a life lived in a trap like that. How horrible that would have been for him. It was terrifying.

We have so much to be grateful for this year, Christmas is already amazing, and we haven't even gotten there yet. I've already had my gift.I have a husband who has the ability to tell me he loves me. He can hold a conversation with me. He can fight with me, for Pete's sake. Who knew a day would come when I'd be grateful for that! But oh, am I ever. It's a Christmas blessing this year.

Five Perfect Poshpad Pets

So I was laying in bed trying to fall asleep when my mind drifted to the thought of a cat wandering through the poshpad. As thoughts do when one is falling asleep, the cat changed into a kitten, then into a different cat, then into a dog. Then I woke up, and got to thinking really about what it would be like to have a pet, and what kind would be best here. Blue wants one badly...

A cat would be a lovely addition to our home, and Blue has asked for one a hundred times. There are all kinds of places for a clever kitty to hide and scheme, to plot and pounce. I used to have five cats, and I loved them with all my heart. I would love to have another. They're allowed here, and they're the right size and whatnot. Cats have always been my favorite animals, though I've become more open to others as I've grown older. I love how they snuggle and purr, and how they don't need you all the time either. Daddy doesn't like cats, however. (I think he could easily be converted to a cat lover given the chance though.)

I had a cockatiel once, and I adored that bird. You wouldn't think a bird could be something you could love so much, but I loved that bird. I called it bird. Or sweet bird. I never named it more than that. I would take it out each morning and let it sit on my shoulder all day long. It shit on my shoulder, but I just dressed in crappy clothes. It would climb down my arms and play on the keyboard while I typed, and climb back up, then onto my head. I wore a lot of bandanas. Crappy ones. I would love to have another. You can train them to do amazing things, you know. I never did, but it's possible. They're very smart, and they live for a LONG time. Mine didn't know how to fly. It always flew into walls when it tried - it had been raised with clipped wings, so I never kept it clipped. One day, they door was open and it saw its shot for freedom, and flew right out the front door, to our amazement. I was heartbroken. I'd love another, and they're just the right size. What's more, Daddy, had one once too, and he loved his. Perfection.

Who could ignore the beauty of a betta? Siamese fighting fish are lovely, and are really a PERFECT size for the poshpad. It would be the best choice as a starter pet for Blue, really. Tiny, low maintenance, and gorgeous. And they come in Blue's favorite color.

Blue recently asked me for a pig. She watched Charlotte's Web, of course. Check out this page on pixie pigs. They're tiny, smaller than cats, even, and adorable. They're supposed to be smarter than dogs, litter box trained like cats, and lifetime pets that become extremely bonded with their owners. I was just kidding when I started looking it up, but wow, these are so damn cute, and what great pets they would make! The only catch - the DEPOSIT to hold them is $500. *jawdrop*

Last on the list of poshpets to consider would be the well-loved (by an awful lot of people, just not by me) Chihuahua, a very popular pet in these parts. They're almost the only dog my poshmates have because their size lends itself so well to our tiny tuna tin can houses. They run in little packs around here. It's so funny, because the poshlands are also overrun with geese, and the geese are like six times the size of the Chihuahuas. They have gang wars, fighting for territory. Anyhow, they fit well inside our homes here, and they have to be considered when thinking of a poshpet.

Daddy has watched as I've typed out this entry. He has actually said he'd consider a cat. So purrhaps we'll get a pretty kitty for Blue for Christmas! Oh, how I've missed the feeling of little paws on my lap!

Any other suggestions for pets that are good in tight quarters? I'd love some feedback! Ideas, anyone?

Blue loved it

When she came in and saw the tree, she could hardly stop talking and moving and decorating. She didn't want to go to bed because she didn't want to stop. She absolutely was thrilled. I'm so pleased. It turned out better than I could have imagined. She just delighted over every little ornament and decoration. And I hadn't even gotten out half of them. So I guess now we have a Merryposhpad!

I spent a good two hours digging out more stuff for her to pore over and dig through and put up around the house. The cleanup will be a nightmare, but it's worth it for the joy it brought her. She loved every second of putting up the decorations, figuring out where to put them, hearing the stories behind the things that had them, and creating stories for the things that are new.

Our tree is the most fully decorated tree I've ever seen. There's no bare space to be found. It's only a three foot tree, but she dressed it to the nine's. And all around underneath is full too, of Santa figurines and reindeers and snowflakes. The presents will have to go outside of that.

When her friend came over, the first thing she did was give her a full walk-through of all the decorations, showing her which ones were where, which ones lit up, which ones had bells, which ones were her favorites.... It blew me away. Her friend was bored to tears. Blue didn't care one iota.

Watching her introduce this tradition into our home has been the most fulfilling thing I've done all year, I think. She's so careful about everything. Each detail is so precious to her. It's intense how meaningful it is to her. I've loved every minute of it.

What's Christmas decorating like in your house? Leave me a comment!

No joke.

So, went to bed Friday with big plans for Saturday set in stone, and woke up at midnight with Blue spewing into the trash can. Poor sweet bean. It's only been a week and a half since she went through this before.

Nevertheless, she was done by this morning, and I sent her off to her grammy's house to spend the night. My plans for housecleaning went off without a hitch.

I've gotten the living room into shape for the Christmas tree, which was the primary goal for today. We haven't had one here at the poshpad yet. Blue doesn't even remember ever having had one in her life. This will be her first year with a Christmas tree. It's set up in the living room now, just waiting for her to get home so we can decorate it together. I can't wait! I know she'll be so excited, I just can't handle it. And I brought out the other decorations too - not all of them, because I have a TON, but some, just the old ones I have from when my mom and dad were still married and I was a kid, and we can put those up. I wonder where my mistletoe ball is...? That would be fun to have up.

I guess I missed this more than I realized.

I hope I can find the Christmas lights!

Can it possibly be the weekend already?

It is. I checked. Twice. Then asked the teacher to be sure. It's Friday.

Tomorrow, heavy housecleaning for me and the little. Blue isn't likely to enjoy it, but you never know, she surprises me at the most unexpected moments with the most bizarre things. She likes cleaning when I least expect it. So perhaps tomorrow will be one of those days. (Please, God, make it one of those days, lest my brain implode and leave her motherless.)

Sunday, no plans. That's when trouble ensues. I'll have to see if I can get her grandma to take her or something. Idle hands and minds and children lead to temper tantrums and broken things and horribly angry mommies. Blue's temper has become really something lately. It's almost as though she's entered her teen years already. I didn't act out this way til I was a teen, that's for sure. And boredom is the number one factor in bringingo n the tantrums. So I have to be careful.

I've been sick this week, so I don't think I'm up for any airplane antics. I don't quite know what else to do with her to keep her happy. She clings to me like velcro asking for it, but if I can't do it, I'm at a loss for substitutes... I guess we'll see how the weekend goes. Pray for me. rofl

Ahhh, back to school, and it's December.

Except, there was school Monday. I misread the paper they sent home from school, and it DID start then. Can I get some applause, please? I need some.

I keep reading all these blog articles about the Elf on the Shelf. I do not, nor have I ever, owned one of these. It sounds like a nifty little manipulator, I think there's merit in that. But I gotta tell you, I think my kid is smarter than that. She's six. Is it too late to introduce such a thing now? Am I supposed to have started earlier with it? I'm not sure it's for us.

We don't do a lot for Christmas around here. The poshpad is tiny. It's like living in a tiny tin tuna can living here. There are just lots of them in a row, so we don't get too cold in the winter. The ones on the sides of us keep us warm. But we don't decorate a lot.

Really, we don't do much to get into the spirit compared to a lot of people. I think it's so interwoven into our society that we don't really have to. It's everywhere you go, you hear it, smell it, see it, I don't think Blue misses out much. We watch our holiday specials - the same ones I watched when I was a kid - all snuggled together. We donate. We talk about Santa and giving and the time with loved ones to come...  Those are the things that are special to us. We don't need all those decorations. Nor do we need a weird little elf watching Blue to see if she behaves. It wouldn't change her behavior anyway. She's too clever for that shit. Really.

Ah, if only it were that easy.

Poshlands

No one likes saying they live in the projects. There are people who CHOOSE to live here, I've learned, but no one likes to say they live here. No one wants to advertise it. Even those people. I think, judging by the beautiful, expensive cars some of the people here drive, people choose to live here because either a) they make their money in disreputable ways, or b) they choose to spend as little as possible on lodging so as to spend it on other things. I lean toward the former as the most prevalent reason. There are some shady mother fuckers up in here. lmao. I even sound like a suburbanite when I TYPE that, not just when I say it.

Anyhow, in order to not have to constantly announce that I live in the projects,  I've decided to give it a nickname for use in my blog. And after much deliberation, I settled on the poshlands, because I'm like that. This lends itself to calling my house the poshpad, which I dig. The playgrounds which are spread throughout the projects can now become known as poshparks. I like that too.

I've enjoyed this whole renaming process, really. The office can be called the poffice, which is just funny. My neighbors can be called either poshmates if I like them, which flows off the tongue quite nicely, or selected expletives if I don't, which I'd call them anyway.

My daughter is now Blue of the poshlands. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear the new name for our neighborhood. She loves stuff like this. I think the husband may have some reservations about it, but he'll have to adjust. What's done is done.