Thursday, October 28, 2010

I’m starting to realize that the days when I feel like a total Rockstar Mommy are often the days when I have to do the least amount of actual parenting.

Fortunately for me, Sweet William is giving me a lot of opportunities to flex my Mommy muscles these days. I’m dropping into bed at night feeling as mean as Joan Crawford on a tequila bender, but oh…the parental wisdom I’m gaining.

In fact, just this week I’ve learned so many valuable lessons. Like, exactly how fast I can run in my high heeled boots. And how to get sharpie marker off of upholstery. Or how many toys actually fit into the box we use for possession purgatory, a.k.a. the “Gobble Box.” And my personal favorite, how to dismantle a locked bedroom door using a crowbar and a sledge hammer. (I don’t make this stuff up. Really. I don’t.)

All the parenting books will tell you that my 3 year old is “asserting his independence.” Which is true, of course. But it feels more like some medieval form of messing with my head. For instance, the other day I asked my sweet boy if he would like to go to his all time favorite place on the planet…Shopko*. He was exuberant in is affirmative reply.
“Great!’ says I. “Go and get your shoes off of that chair.” And so it begins. He can’t get the shoes. He won’t get the shoes. He forgot to get the shoes, he was distracted by something shiny on the way to the shoes, and then finally he emerges wearing shoes…but they are flip flops and it is practically snowing outside. So finally I just go get the damn shoes, and then we have a temper tantrum of monumental proportions because HE WANTED TO GET THEM. .


Fourty five minutes later when we finally make it to the car, we do the same dance over getting into his car seat. And putting on his seatbelt. And, naturally, keeping the freaking shoes on his feet.

*Shopko has an entire section of Thomas the Train stuff. Enough said.

I know that anyone reading this right now is probably wondering why I don’t just pull the plug on the Shopko trip altogether. Right? You were being a tiny bit critical of my parenting just now…admit it. But here’s the deal. I really NEED to go to Shopko. At this point, I have been trying to go there for 4 days, and each day after a frighteningly similar scenario I have nixed it . I have used my best mom voice to say, “Aw, that’s too bad. I guess maybe tomorrow you’ll remember that if we make poor choices/dilly dally/don’t cooperate with Mommy we don’t get to go do fun things.” But now the situation is desperate. If we don’t go to Shopko I won’t have anything in the diaper family to wrap around his obstinate little bottom at bedtime. And since he decided - after 6 weeks of being 100% potty-trained - that he now can’t make it through the night with dry pants (Which is totally normal for a 3 year old, right? Totally normal?) pull-ups are not optional at this point. I have to go to Shopko.

It’s maddening. And I have tried a million different tactics ranging from trickery to bribery to get him to come willingly along. But I’m no match for him. The other day he was almost in tears because he had to pee so badly, but then he held it for an additional 20 minutes while he threw a fit about whether or not I would spin a toy top for him BEFORE he got on the potty. I offered to spin that top like a madwoman the entire time he sat on the John, but he narrowed his eyes to evil little slits and said, “You spin the top or I am NOT going to go pee pee.” He’s like a tiny villain with a hostage. It’s constant negotiation. And you can’t give in to that crap! Can you? CAN YOU? I find myself holding my ground about the most ridiculous of things lately.

I’ve had a lot of people tell me that my children’s stubbornness will serve them well when they are older. They won’t be pressured into trying things they don’t want to do. They won’t be bullied or pushed around. But I’m not entirely convinced it will work in my favor. What if they just end up being the kids doing the bullying and pressuring? Sweet Pea could talk her way out of a grand jury indictment. And Will is already answering to “Frank the Tank.”

I see this ending badly.

But then again, sometimes I don’t.


Sunday, October 10, 2010

Even if it weren't 10.10.10, today would still be a special day. Today is our "silk" anniversary. Which means 12 years. It also means I totally botched my anniversary gift for Mr. G. Sorry honey, I didn't get you a cravat.

I don't think there is any lack of schmoop around here. I may have even been told that I needed to "get a room" after that post about what a hottie Mr. G is. I've written about how hard he works to keep our little family in a constant state of bliss. I've posted a thousand pictures of the amazing family fun we have. You get it. He's awesome.

So instead of more of the lovey dovey stuff, I think I'll tell you something embarrassing. Maybe I could make a list of embarrassing stuff...Oh, that's a great idea. Ok, here goes:

We have a secret code in case either of us is ever body snatched or cloned by evil forces.

We stopped worrying about whether or not the bathroom door was shut years ago.

Sometimes we find each other dreadfully boring. Usually that happens when we are driving somewhere and he only wants to talk about work, and I only want to talk about kids. When that's the case, we sometimes play a driving game where you think of actual band names that could double as nasty STD's. Or alternately, where you make farty noises with your mouth and then name them things like, "The Sneak Attack" or "Unabomber."

Long ago...before we had children...I made him learn all the old Girl Scout Camp songs that I know. And he sings them with me in the car.

8th grade humor makes him giggle like a girl.

I accidentally gave him the same Valentines Day card 3 years in a row because I thought it was sassy and sexy. Something about how I like my Valentines like I like my martinis...dirty.

I buy him silly boxer shorts, and he wears them even though he gets embarrassed about them at the gym.

At his bachelor party he threw up on a stripper.

And he never thinks twice about being silly with me or the kids just for the sake of having fun and making memories.

I love you honey! I don't know who these old people are celebrating 12 years of marriage. But I'm glad you're still my boyfriend.


Saturday, October 09, 2010

I spent a good part of yesterday being clever and crafty with Halloween treasures procured from the Dollar Store. And I would love to show you the results of my spooky spectacularness. But, alas, Mr. G has our camera in his office for some unknown reason. So you get nothing.


Well. Almost nothing. You get something. Something pretty fabulous actually. I found a new Blog and I heart it.

From Blah to Ta-Daa

The food looks amazing. I am dying to make the cocount shrimp. And one of these girlies lives in Maine, which has me in a tizzy of envy. So there you go. Read about their fabulousness and trust that I would be showing you mine if I had a camera. (Boo hiss!)


Wednesday, October 06, 2010

Will: "Mom...we have to be very quiet. Shhhhh..."

Me: "How come honey? We're outside, this is your chance to be as noisy as you want."

Will: "I know. But China might be right over there (pointing.) Or right over there..."

Me: "Um...?"

Will: "Or over there...or over there...or over there..."

Me. "Are you worried about waking up the people who are sleeping in China?"

Will: "Yes because it's nightnight time there right now."

And so our charmed life goes on at Casa Del Clover


Friday, October 01, 2010

Some of the reasons that you have pets is to teach your children about compassion and love and responsibility…and ultimately the circle of life. Right?

Well. The circle of life sucks. Wednesday night our kitty, Oreo, got attacked by some kind of animal in our yard. We aren’t sure what it was, possibly a raccoon. Anyway, whatever it was bit him badly and snapped his back leg. The only fix was a surgical procedure that would have cost $1,500. I wish that I could say we didn’t have to make decisions like this. But, well. We did. And so today with a lot of tears and an incredibly heavy heart I took Oreo to the vet and held his little head while he went to sleep forever.

Sometimes I think that I am a little bit emotionally detached. Like maybe I protect my heart by being funny or sarcastic or even just pragmatic. But not today. Today I am so, so, SO very sad.

I told Sweet Pea last night that there was a good chance Oreo couldn’t get well. I gave her some time to say goodbye to him. And this morning I even let her be a little late to school so she could give him one last snuggle. I’m not sure she totally understood though. And I am really dreading 3:45 today.

Right this second I am very sad. I am missing my sweet kitty, and feeling like I failed him by not keeping him inside. Or having pet insurance. Or even just having a lot of money to spend on poor little kitties who wrap you quickly around their little paws.

Oreo, you were a great kitty! You were sweet, and funny. Friendly and snuggly. And you made two kids very, very happy. I loved your comforting purr and the adorable little white stripe that ran across your bottom. I loved how you followed me around like you were a little fluffy dog. And I know that when you left dead things on the back step you did it because you wanted to show me that you loved me too. I’m glad you came into our lives, even if it was just for a very short while. I didn’t know I even liked cats before there was you, so thank you for purring your way into my heart. I promise if we ever get another kitten I won’t make the same mistakes. See you at that Rainbow Bridge!