Hello! I bet you thought I went and died and was never going to return.
Well... that's sort of what happened, but instead of dying I've been teaching.
Which is sort of like dying, but more like having to stand in front of a room of confused, resistant, curious, and poo flinging teenagers.
It is very exhausting, and in seven teaching days, it will all be over. And thank god I will be able to go back to this crazy circus next year and start all over again. I really love it, despite my sarcastic tone.
Anyway, I'm really here to talk about JG. Who, by the way, is hilarious and you've all been missing out. I will try to catch you up, over time, if I have time.
This last week I decided to give JG the option of peeing in the potty (a small training potty). I figure she's two (TWO!), she's starting to get irritated at her diapers, and I would love to stop buying them.
All I have said to her is that she can pee or poop on the potty if she wants to, she just has to let me know.
She is so entertained to see her pee it the potty and says, "I pee-peed in the potty!"
Today she pulled at her diaper, we put her on the potty...
she farted...
"I pooped!"
And indeed, a solid poop had nestled itself inside her little potty. So. Gross. But awesome.
She grinned, we congratulated her, and we all watched to poop spin its way down the toilet.
Truly amazing.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Mother
Having two weeks off of school is a blessing (which is saying a lot, because I really hate using the word blessing). I am taking the time to stop obsessing about my 8th graders and how much they hate me, relax about lesson plans (I really shouldn't), and spend time with my ever-learning 19-month-old.
Ah, my daughter.
I am a mother. Have you caught on yet that it still creeps me out a little, me being a mother?
It does.
Today I have been thinking about how there are many types of mothers, even though society tends to focus on just two: the stay-at-home mom and the working mom.
I am so thankful (ugh, thankful) to be a working mom. I have no idea what to do with JG when we're home and I'm pretty sure watching more than 3-4 hours of PBS kids is not healthy for her developing brain. She even asks for Elmo, and I cringe every time.
Having the ability to go to work and to challenge myself personally is so necessary for me. At home I commonly fall into the shame-spiral - as my friend MCB calls it - where I get stuck watching TV and procrastinating things I would like to do, but can't figure out how to get the friggen TV to turn off by itself and myself motivated.
I basically turn into a fat lump on the couch. I have found myself watching JG playing and me feeling sorry for myself for not entertaining her like a good stay-at-home mom would.
I know it sounds strange, but I have a hard time leaving the house when I'm home for more than a few days. I am prone to anxiety. So, today, I wanted to leave, but had a really hard time justifying the reasons, or figuring out where to go. The sad thing is that I know my reasoning is flawed, and I know that it's silly to have an anxiety attack about doing what I want to do, but I can't help it.
So, thank you Daycare for existing and doing a much better job at teaching JG songs and dances, colors and more. I like being the person who cuddles with her, kisses her little face, and giving her whatever other affection she may need. I miss her during the week, but she loves going to daycare and her teachers are awesome, and I love benefitting from their hard work.
You could say I am the type of working mother who would like to be a good SAHM, but just isn't. I'm not sure I'm capable of handling it emotionally. Which is why I will be enrolling JG in some dance classes this summer, so we can have something to look forward to and I can feel less like a failure.
Don't I just make you so excited to have your own?
Ah, my daughter.
I am a mother. Have you caught on yet that it still creeps me out a little, me being a mother?
It does.
Today I have been thinking about how there are many types of mothers, even though society tends to focus on just two: the stay-at-home mom and the working mom.
I am so thankful (ugh, thankful) to be a working mom. I have no idea what to do with JG when we're home and I'm pretty sure watching more than 3-4 hours of PBS kids is not healthy for her developing brain. She even asks for Elmo, and I cringe every time.
Having the ability to go to work and to challenge myself personally is so necessary for me. At home I commonly fall into the shame-spiral - as my friend MCB calls it - where I get stuck watching TV and procrastinating things I would like to do, but can't figure out how to get the friggen TV to turn off by itself and myself motivated.
I basically turn into a fat lump on the couch. I have found myself watching JG playing and me feeling sorry for myself for not entertaining her like a good stay-at-home mom would.
I know it sounds strange, but I have a hard time leaving the house when I'm home for more than a few days. I am prone to anxiety. So, today, I wanted to leave, but had a really hard time justifying the reasons, or figuring out where to go. The sad thing is that I know my reasoning is flawed, and I know that it's silly to have an anxiety attack about doing what I want to do, but I can't help it.
So, thank you Daycare for existing and doing a much better job at teaching JG songs and dances, colors and more. I like being the person who cuddles with her, kisses her little face, and giving her whatever other affection she may need. I miss her during the week, but she loves going to daycare and her teachers are awesome, and I love benefitting from their hard work.
You could say I am the type of working mother who would like to be a good SAHM, but just isn't. I'm not sure I'm capable of handling it emotionally. Which is why I will be enrolling JG in some dance classes this summer, so we can have something to look forward to and I can feel less like a failure.
Don't I just make you so excited to have your own?
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Holy Mother
Having two weeks off from teaching is...
help me think of metaphors and simile's here...
a well deserved bath after having spent months neck-deep in skin irritating dirt and grime.
like finally getting to scratch that "hard to reach" spot
being able to breath deeply after escaping one of Maggie's nausea inducing farts
awesome.
help me think of metaphors and simile's here...
a well deserved bath after having spent months neck-deep in skin irritating dirt and grime.
like finally getting to scratch that "hard to reach" spot
being able to breath deeply after escaping one of Maggie's nausea inducing farts
awesome.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
P*nis!
The first three months of my teaching career have been very informative. For instance, do not start out the year as a "relaxed" teacher, apparently it gives the impression to the students that you will let them get away with practically anything.
Just when I thought I had a handle on the whole classroom behavior management thing.
Two weeks ago Monday started out just fine. I felt like my students were learning, which is a big deal for me. Then, as my second class was wrapping up 8th grade Girl Student yelled, "F--- what?" No, she wasn't swearing at me, but when your... stupid enough to swear loud enough for the entire class to hear? I gave her detention, but in reflecting on this I should have sent her to the office.
In my last class of Monday one of the sweetest (?) boy students I have yelled across the room to another boy, "Your mother raped you as a child!"
Detention. Yes, what he said was awful, but that class was terrible, and there were some comments made by his classmates that I should have sent them to the office for... and because I was a terrible teacher I didn't. The 8th grader who did the yelling had been bullied all day, and he didn't quite know how to burn off that steam. Ugh.
The next day 9th grad Boy Student said the F* word in class. Not as loud, but I heard it, so I gave him detention too. I have creepy hearing. I have been informed by my principal that there are some things I need to "pretend" I don't hear.
I'm working on it.
But, that week not being over yet (we're only on Tuesday), there was plenty of time for my students to further demonstrate to me how they interpreted my management of their behavior.
Thursday, 9th grade class, we're transitioning from free write to the lesson. It is quiet. Students are being respectful and cleaning off their desks. And then.
"PENIS!"
He had perfect timing. Everything was silent. I was livid. LIVID. "Outside!" I said sternly.
"I said it," he said.
"You really think I'm going to let that go?" I said, using my meanest voice.
He stood up in a bit of a daze and went outside, I wrote a letter the the principle that read "said 'penis' out loud in class."
The worst part was I had to yell at the rest of the class to get them back on track. My creepy hearing kept hearing them say "penis...penis...penis" talking about what had just happened. I had to sternly inform them that such language was not funny and would not be tolerated.
The best part is that I have a helper teacher that period. I was so embarrassed. (I must add, the principal made 9th grade boy call his mother and repeat what he said, which made 9th grader extremely embarrassed. I am milking that for what it's worth in my professional relationship with 9th grade boy. Ha! Say penis in my class!)
So. That was, quite frankly, a shitty week. Since then I have become a much more strict and unrelenting teacher, which is no fun for me, but I have to focus on making my classroom feel safe for everybody. Things are improving, but I am continually having to reinforce procedures, which is what I should have been doing all along.
Blasted.
I should add that I really love teaching. This is the right place for me to be.
Just when I thought I had a handle on the whole classroom behavior management thing.
Two weeks ago Monday started out just fine. I felt like my students were learning, which is a big deal for me. Then, as my second class was wrapping up 8th grade Girl Student yelled, "F--- what?" No, she wasn't swearing at me, but when your... stupid enough to swear loud enough for the entire class to hear? I gave her detention, but in reflecting on this I should have sent her to the office.
In my last class of Monday one of the sweetest (?) boy students I have yelled across the room to another boy, "Your mother raped you as a child!"
Detention. Yes, what he said was awful, but that class was terrible, and there were some comments made by his classmates that I should have sent them to the office for... and because I was a terrible teacher I didn't. The 8th grader who did the yelling had been bullied all day, and he didn't quite know how to burn off that steam. Ugh.
The next day 9th grad Boy Student said the F* word in class. Not as loud, but I heard it, so I gave him detention too. I have creepy hearing. I have been informed by my principal that there are some things I need to "pretend" I don't hear.
I'm working on it.
But, that week not being over yet (we're only on Tuesday), there was plenty of time for my students to further demonstrate to me how they interpreted my management of their behavior.
Thursday, 9th grade class, we're transitioning from free write to the lesson. It is quiet. Students are being respectful and cleaning off their desks. And then.
"PENIS!"
He had perfect timing. Everything was silent. I was livid. LIVID. "Outside!" I said sternly.
"I said it," he said.
"You really think I'm going to let that go?" I said, using my meanest voice.
He stood up in a bit of a daze and went outside, I wrote a letter the the principle that read "said 'penis' out loud in class."
The worst part was I had to yell at the rest of the class to get them back on track. My creepy hearing kept hearing them say "penis...penis...penis" talking about what had just happened. I had to sternly inform them that such language was not funny and would not be tolerated.
The best part is that I have a helper teacher that period. I was so embarrassed. (I must add, the principal made 9th grade boy call his mother and repeat what he said, which made 9th grader extremely embarrassed. I am milking that for what it's worth in my professional relationship with 9th grade boy. Ha! Say penis in my class!)
So. That was, quite frankly, a shitty week. Since then I have become a much more strict and unrelenting teacher, which is no fun for me, but I have to focus on making my classroom feel safe for everybody. Things are improving, but I am continually having to reinforce procedures, which is what I should have been doing all along.
Blasted.
I should add that I really love teaching. This is the right place for me to be.
Saturday, November 06, 2010
Schooled
The first quarter of my teaching career wrapped up at the end of October and all I can really say about that is THANK GOD!!!!
Man.
With the start of a new quarter I feel like I'm catching my stride and starting to know who I am as a teacher. I was worried for a while that my approach wasn't going to work, but I am starting to see some changes in my students. I believe I've convinced a few resistant students to start paying attention and give themselves a chance -- I am the most excited about that. I can't stand the kid who gives up before s/he's even started.
JG is doing really well too, she is loving daycare. There have been a few times when Alex goes to pick her up she throws a fit, as in, "How dare you try to tear me from this fantastic place!" fit.
The benefit of daycare for us is how much she's learning. Holy mother, so much learning, far more than what I'm capable of teaching her at home. The other day she pointed at a face on the cover of a book and said, "Happy."
She was right, the face was smiling, the character was happy.
Oh, and JG is really popular with the other kids, including the older kids. The other morning we walked in and are instantly surrounded by three and four year olds saying "JG! JG! Are you JG's mom?" and then they make a face at her -- this scrunchy face she makes
which apparently caught on with the kids and the teenagers who help out too.
I have no idea where my child inherited the gene for popularity, but she oozes it. Everybody loves her. Strangers at the market (sometimes uncomfortably so), my students (I had to take her to school for a bit one day), her teachers and classmates.
When I leave her at daycare I usually tell her to be good, and her teachers say, "Oh, JG is always good." They say that with a big smile.
It's also crazy how articulate she is for a 17-month-old. New words to add to her list:
Shoes
jacket
tickle
baby
out
owl
ear
eyes
mouth
juice
hug
read
book (she likes to say "Read book")
grampa
Can you believe that?
And she dances and sings nursery rhymes she's learned at daycare, which seems to be her favorite thing in the world:
Okay, I'll stop pontificating now, and shall work harder next time to resume the use of my sarcastic voice.
Which, by the way, typically hurts the feelings of 8th and 9th graders.
Who would've thunk?
Man.
With the start of a new quarter I feel like I'm catching my stride and starting to know who I am as a teacher. I was worried for a while that my approach wasn't going to work, but I am starting to see some changes in my students. I believe I've convinced a few resistant students to start paying attention and give themselves a chance -- I am the most excited about that. I can't stand the kid who gives up before s/he's even started.
JG is doing really well too, she is loving daycare. There have been a few times when Alex goes to pick her up she throws a fit, as in, "How dare you try to tear me from this fantastic place!" fit.
The benefit of daycare for us is how much she's learning. Holy mother, so much learning, far more than what I'm capable of teaching her at home. The other day she pointed at a face on the cover of a book and said, "Happy."
She was right, the face was smiling, the character was happy.
Oh, and JG is really popular with the other kids, including the older kids. The other morning we walked in and are instantly surrounded by three and four year olds saying "JG! JG! Are you JG's mom?" and then they make a face at her -- this scrunchy face she makes
(Pinch your lips together and scrunch your nose as if something is stinky, that's the face she makes)
which apparently caught on with the kids and the teenagers who help out too.
I have no idea where my child inherited the gene for popularity, but she oozes it. Everybody loves her. Strangers at the market (sometimes uncomfortably so), my students (I had to take her to school for a bit one day), her teachers and classmates.
When I leave her at daycare I usually tell her to be good, and her teachers say, "Oh, JG is always good." They say that with a big smile.
It's also crazy how articulate she is for a 17-month-old. New words to add to her list:
Shoes
jacket
tickle
baby
out
owl
ear
eyes
mouth
juice
hug
read
book (she likes to say "Read book")
grampa
Can you believe that?
And she dances and sings nursery rhymes she's learned at daycare, which seems to be her favorite thing in the world:
Okay, I'll stop pontificating now, and shall work harder next time to resume the use of my sarcastic voice.
Which, by the way, typically hurts the feelings of 8th and 9th graders.
Who would've thunk?
Friday, October 15, 2010
The Horror
JG is 17 months old now and she is gradually growing out of her milk and soy intolerances. Thank Jesus, because let me tell you, having to avoid those two things drains all the fun out of feeding her. She still can't eat raw milk (so, having a glass of milk is out), but having milk baked into something is okay... even though it totally gives her the farts.
Which brings us to me.
Before this whole milk fiasco began I loved milk. Ice cream. Cereal with cold milk poured over it. Cream cheese icing. Soups with cream mixed in. Oh man... really, anything made delicious by milk, I loved.
And now.
Now.
I'm afraid there may be some sort of genetic reason JG has an intolerance, because I'm almost 95% positive that I am lactose intolerant.
How do I know, you ask?
Let's just say that whenever I eat something made with milk it makes itself known. At school this last week I made myself some coffee with hot cocoa mixed in (wonderfully scrumptious) and about thirty minutes later I was surrounded by a cloud of stench so thick I worried about students coming up to me and passing out.
It is horrendously embarrassing what milk does to my guts.
The good thing is that my students probably suspect their peers before they think of me. As far as they know I am devoid of body functions and I'd like to keep it that way.
Unfortunately, milk isn't always silent as it travels the twists and turns of my bowels. Sigh.
So, it turns out that I've been limiting the amount of goodies I eat... or, I should say, the times. I totally just ate two doughnuts. In quick succession. And a cookie.
I have problems.
Which brings us to me.
Before this whole milk fiasco began I loved milk. Ice cream. Cereal with cold milk poured over it. Cream cheese icing. Soups with cream mixed in. Oh man... really, anything made delicious by milk, I loved.
And now.
Now.
I'm afraid there may be some sort of genetic reason JG has an intolerance, because I'm almost 95% positive that I am lactose intolerant.
How do I know, you ask?
Let's just say that whenever I eat something made with milk it makes itself known. At school this last week I made myself some coffee with hot cocoa mixed in (wonderfully scrumptious) and about thirty minutes later I was surrounded by a cloud of stench so thick I worried about students coming up to me and passing out.
It is horrendously embarrassing what milk does to my guts.
The good thing is that my students probably suspect their peers before they think of me. As far as they know I am devoid of body functions and I'd like to keep it that way.
Unfortunately, milk isn't always silent as it travels the twists and turns of my bowels. Sigh.
So, it turns out that I've been limiting the amount of goodies I eat... or, I should say, the times. I totally just ate two doughnuts. In quick succession. And a cookie.
I have problems.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Midterms
Guh.
Sta.
Stbliethlsj.
Is it bad that I may have gotten a little lazy in my grading and gave full points if they handed in the assignment?
Especially since I spent the majority of my weekend noticing how 50-60% of my students don't hand in anything at all.
They fail because they don't try.
And I don't understand, because I was never like that, I always handed in my work. Sometimes it wasn't complete, but mainly because I never felt like finishing.
They never start.
So, no, I'm not a frustrated teacher. Not at all.
Sta.
Stbliethlsj.
Is it bad that I may have gotten a little lazy in my grading and gave full points if they handed in the assignment?
Especially since I spent the majority of my weekend noticing how 50-60% of my students don't hand in anything at all.
They fail because they don't try.
And I don't understand, because I was never like that, I always handed in my work. Sometimes it wasn't complete, but mainly because I never felt like finishing.
They never start.
So, no, I'm not a frustrated teacher. Not at all.
Monday, September 20, 2010
I am still alive...
I am still alive, but very exhausted. So. Exhausted.
So much, in fact, that it's difficult to hold a conversation with most anybody (sorry Min) outside of school. You could ask Alex, I'm not much good conversing with him either.
School? I'm learning so much... mostly through failing, with some success sprinkled in here and there. My classes have such a wide range of students, from low to high and more, that figuring out how to teach them all is a frustrating process. And then there are the students who like to try and control the class, or argue, or just be a general pain in the ass.
I am so looking forward to having this Friday off.
And, for those of you who wanted to know how JG is doing:
So much, in fact, that it's difficult to hold a conversation with most anybody (sorry Min) outside of school. You could ask Alex, I'm not much good conversing with him either.
School? I'm learning so much... mostly through failing, with some success sprinkled in here and there. My classes have such a wide range of students, from low to high and more, that figuring out how to teach them all is a frustrating process. And then there are the students who like to try and control the class, or argue, or just be a general pain in the ass.
I am so looking forward to having this Friday off.
And, for those of you who wanted to know how JG is doing:
She loves daycare. She is learning so much and I am continually impressed with her teachers. Four little teeth are pushing their way through her gums, so she hasn't been feeling too well.
And now I am tired and going to bed.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Bla bla bla
This being the first week of school I am... my brain is... suffering.
I am not fully prepared. I do not have rolls for my classes that start tomorrow and I have no idea what we will do for 90 minutes.
I am hoping for that spark that tends to happen while I am in the shower that says, "Hot damn, this is a brilliant idea at the very LAST MINUTE!"
Sometimes the ideas aren't so great.
Oh well.
Ah, I also can't log into my computer and I have no access to the database I need to set up grades or anything else. Do I want to use the smart board in my room? Yes. Can I? Maybe?
I should really lay out some clothes tonight so I don't have to think about it tomorrow morning, but I'm not sure if I'm capable of matching colors (ever).
I guess I'll just go to bed.
I am not fully prepared. I do not have rolls for my classes that start tomorrow and I have no idea what we will do for 90 minutes.
I am hoping for that spark that tends to happen while I am in the shower that says, "Hot damn, this is a brilliant idea at the very LAST MINUTE!"
Sometimes the ideas aren't so great.
Oh well.
Ah, I also can't log into my computer and I have no access to the database I need to set up grades or anything else. Do I want to use the smart board in my room? Yes. Can I? Maybe?
I should really lay out some clothes tonight so I don't have to think about it tomorrow morning, but I'm not sure if I'm capable of matching colors (ever).
I guess I'll just go to bed.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
So Tired
School starts next week, which means I have been busy with new teacher orientation and getting my room ready this week.
With a broken elbow (see previous post) - which is the sort of broken where you are supposed to ignore the fact that it is broken, but hurts like hell when I push or pull anything. Such a joy to have a broken wing when I need to fly. (haha haha haha)
JG has also started daycare. I get to rip out my heart each morning when I leave her behind, bawling and asking me not to leave. The daycare staff said that sometimes it takes a child up to two months to adjust.
Two months.
I'm hoping that JG is in the swing of things by next week, and I have high hopes for her since everyone I have talked to says that their kid loves it. And the parents like it too.
In the future I am sure I will like it as well.
Just not so much right now.
And teaching...
Today I went to a... I can't remember the technical term for it, but I went to a Language Arts class for teachers. Being in a room full of older women who have taught anywhere from 5-20 years makes me uncomfortable.
Why? Because they all assume I'm a baby, like an 18-year-old they need to coddle and condescend to. Like "oh, look at how young she is, she obviously has no idea what she's doing."
I understand that I look much younger than I am (I'm 30, by the way), but when I meet women (and it is alway women) who automatically assume I am naive and uneducated, my skin crawls and I shut down a little.
Outside of the workplace I have no problem letting them know they're wrong, but when it's people I will see and work with again I have learned it's better to roll with the punches rather than to bite. Eventually they will learn what I know and who I am, and I'll just let them make a fool of themselves for the time being.
The funny thing is that I told my new coworker, "Gail", that the ladies behave that way around me and she didn't believe me, until she witnessed it happen from a friend of hers. Even more hilarious, she put her friend on the spot so we could clear up the misunderstanding.
I am so happy to get to work with this woman.
And now I need to go write my disclosure statement. So there.
With a broken elbow (see previous post) - which is the sort of broken where you are supposed to ignore the fact that it is broken, but hurts like hell when I push or pull anything. Such a joy to have a broken wing when I need to fly. (haha haha haha)
JG has also started daycare. I get to rip out my heart each morning when I leave her behind, bawling and asking me not to leave. The daycare staff said that sometimes it takes a child up to two months to adjust.
Two months.
I'm hoping that JG is in the swing of things by next week, and I have high hopes for her since everyone I have talked to says that their kid loves it. And the parents like it too.
In the future I am sure I will like it as well.
Just not so much right now.
And teaching...
Today I went to a... I can't remember the technical term for it, but I went to a Language Arts class for teachers. Being in a room full of older women who have taught anywhere from 5-20 years makes me uncomfortable.
Why? Because they all assume I'm a baby, like an 18-year-old they need to coddle and condescend to. Like "oh, look at how young she is, she obviously has no idea what she's doing."
I understand that I look much younger than I am (I'm 30, by the way), but when I meet women (and it is alway women) who automatically assume I am naive and uneducated, my skin crawls and I shut down a little.
Outside of the workplace I have no problem letting them know they're wrong, but when it's people I will see and work with again I have learned it's better to roll with the punches rather than to bite. Eventually they will learn what I know and who I am, and I'll just let them make a fool of themselves for the time being.
The funny thing is that I told my new coworker, "Gail", that the ladies behave that way around me and she didn't believe me, until she witnessed it happen from a friend of hers. Even more hilarious, she put her friend on the spot so we could clear up the misunderstanding.
I am so happy to get to work with this woman.
And now I need to go write my disclosure statement. So there.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
My Child
JG really loves water.
Like, really loves it. (Yes, that is the dog's water bowl she is sitting in.)
She's even more than happy to play with the water hose.
She is a funny little bug.
Saturday, August 07, 2010
?
Sometimes you've got to get out there and live life and try new things
and sometimes you fall on your face
you know?
Thanks husband.
You should just see my glasses up close, that's the most depressing thing.
and sometimes you fall on your face
you know?
Thanks husband.
You should just see my glasses up close, that's the most depressing thing.
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
Walker, Texas Ranger
Holy crap, my baby is walking.
Walking.
Which, I guess, means I can't technically call her a baby any more, she's a toddler now. A toddler who demands to be put down in Costco, and doesn't understand when she hears the word no.
"No, JG, there is no way I am letting you walk around - people will run over you and I will have to clean your brains off the concrete."
Because, with me, everything is about JG's brains.
Unfortunately, for me, she did not understand this logic and spiraled into a screaming fit. In which she screamed the entire time we were in Costco.
What is my approach when it comes to my child throwing a fit in a public area? Unfortunately, for the other customers, I just let her.
Look, when it comes to tantrums the first rule is to let them know that their "approach" will not get them what they want.
Sometimes I will laugh at her (which doesn't improve the situation). But, mostly I just endure the dagger eyes others throw our way - today it was more along the lines of "please shut your child up so I don't have to listen to what sounds like a goat being gutted."
Anyway, back to my first point.
My child is freaking WALKING. I really need to get some video, but as you may have deduced, I am not the best mother and have yet to do it.
Mainly because my chin is still dragging on the floor.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Daycare
A couple days ago I called my mom and asked her to go to a daycare open house with me so I could check it out. I told her that she asks really great questions and that would help a lot, especially since I always freeze up in those types of situations.
I told her the truth, but there was definitely another reason for asking her to come along. I needed the support of having my mommy there while I checked out the potential place my baby may be going to for 40 hours a week.
It's very freaky.
I know I talked big, saying I can't wait to hand her off to someone else, but as the school year approaches I'm starting to dread it. Not that I don't get frustrated on a daily basis with caring for my stubborn and brave girl. Oh. Man.
But, I'm starting to realize how much time during the week I will not be spending with her. Forty hours or more. My mornings will be spent racing to get us both ready to leave the house, making sure I have everything she needs and what I need, and verifying that I have indeed done my hair and put all of my makeup on (because I occasionally forget the mascara).
I do have to look like an adult when I leave the house.
Otherwise I have the potential to look like one of my students. I'm a 100 lb. waif. I am smaller than the majority of my students.
It's creepy.
And my nights will be swallowed with dinner, grading, and who knows what else. I'm just hoping I'm not too busy or distracted to suffocate her with kisses and food.
Anyway.
My mom and I checked out the daycare today and it was awesome, however it will be my plan B if I have to be put on the wait list at another daycare. The only thing going against it is that it's a bit out of the way in North Salt Lake, but it would only add about 10 minutes to my morning commute. Which is nothing when I think of how much she liked it there.
We entered the toddler room and JG instantly wanted down so she could mingle and play with toys. My child was fearless, touching, playing, riding, reading, she was out there and in the middle of it.
All the little boys ran up to her (okay, there were only three boys). Like, oooh.
JG did not want to leave.
Seriously, it took two attempts to get her out of the room, and even then I had to really hold her the second time. And outside of the toddler room she walked around (because she is doing a lot of that now) like she owned the place.
If she does go there I am confident she will learn and enjoy herself. I am just so anxious about being away from her, but I'm not sure if she will miss me.
Maybe that's what worries me?
I told her the truth, but there was definitely another reason for asking her to come along. I needed the support of having my mommy there while I checked out the potential place my baby may be going to for 40 hours a week.
It's very freaky.
I know I talked big, saying I can't wait to hand her off to someone else, but as the school year approaches I'm starting to dread it. Not that I don't get frustrated on a daily basis with caring for my stubborn and brave girl. Oh. Man.
But, I'm starting to realize how much time during the week I will not be spending with her. Forty hours or more. My mornings will be spent racing to get us both ready to leave the house, making sure I have everything she needs and what I need, and verifying that I have indeed done my hair and put all of my makeup on (because I occasionally forget the mascara).
I do have to look like an adult when I leave the house.
Otherwise I have the potential to look like one of my students. I'm a 100 lb. waif. I am smaller than the majority of my students.
It's creepy.
And my nights will be swallowed with dinner, grading, and who knows what else. I'm just hoping I'm not too busy or distracted to suffocate her with kisses and food.
Anyway.
My mom and I checked out the daycare today and it was awesome, however it will be my plan B if I have to be put on the wait list at another daycare. The only thing going against it is that it's a bit out of the way in North Salt Lake, but it would only add about 10 minutes to my morning commute. Which is nothing when I think of how much she liked it there.
We entered the toddler room and JG instantly wanted down so she could mingle and play with toys. My child was fearless, touching, playing, riding, reading, she was out there and in the middle of it.
All the little boys ran up to her (okay, there were only three boys). Like, oooh.
JG did not want to leave.
Seriously, it took two attempts to get her out of the room, and even then I had to really hold her the second time. And outside of the toddler room she walked around (because she is doing a lot of that now) like she owned the place.
If she does go there I am confident she will learn and enjoy herself. I am just so anxious about being away from her, but I'm not sure if she will miss me.
Maybe that's what worries me?
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
A New Favorite
I have a new website that I like a lot. A lot. I'm not sure how often I will go to visit it, but I really like the message that it sends.
What is that message?
That crafting takes a boatload of time. Loads. And what a pain in the ass it is that when you try to sell what you made and buyers poo-poo your prices.
Which is a major reason I don't sell my stuff. I will trade, or give, but the few experiences I have with trying to sell my toys have been less than pleasant. My mother is my #1 buyer, if that tells you anything.
The website is just a bunch of videos doing their thing for five minutes. Five minutes of stitching, piecing, sewing, anything. Nothing else. Just crafting.
I like watching how other people do their thing.
I strongly suggest you check it out here.
What is that message?
That crafting takes a boatload of time. Loads. And what a pain in the ass it is that when you try to sell what you made and buyers poo-poo your prices.
Which is a major reason I don't sell my stuff. I will trade, or give, but the few experiences I have with trying to sell my toys have been less than pleasant. My mother is my #1 buyer, if that tells you anything.
The website is just a bunch of videos doing their thing for five minutes. Five minutes of stitching, piecing, sewing, anything. Nothing else. Just crafting.
I like watching how other people do their thing.
I strongly suggest you check it out here.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Urgggh.
I am procrastinating making some birds a friend of mine asked for. I'm not entirely sure why I'm putting it off, because when I'm done I get to trade them in for some pretty sweet pictures.
I have the birds drawn up, now I just need to make the pattern and do it.
DO IT, DAMMIT!
I am such a wuss.
I keep thinking how I could be folding laundry, as if that is the better way to go. Laundry is never the better way to go, never let your brain (or loved ones) convince you otherwise.
Okay, I'm going to find a nice podcast and force myself to get started. And then I may show you some pictures, if, IF, I get off my lazy ass to take any.
Carley
I have the birds drawn up, now I just need to make the pattern and do it.
DO IT, DAMMIT!
I am such a wuss.
I keep thinking how I could be folding laundry, as if that is the better way to go. Laundry is never the better way to go, never let your brain (or loved ones) convince you otherwise.
Okay, I'm going to find a nice podcast and force myself to get started. And then I may show you some pictures, if, IF, I get off my lazy ass to take any.
Carley
Monday, July 19, 2010
Pass/Fail
Motherhood is all about passing and failing, either your parenting method works, or it doesn't. This past week Alex and I have had to change some things around, especially since we were failing more than we were comfortable with.
So, how did we do?
First test: JG's screaming fits.
You may remember reading about me pulling my hair out while JG threw fits, and me being entirely clueless as to what action to take.
So, Alex gets home Tuesday night and JG is still being a terror. We both stare at her in frustration, and I let her scream while I make dinner and Alex deals with her. While we're eating dinner, JG is just rambling along around us and Alex gives her a bit of curry off his fork. She eats it, goes back to her thing, and then comes back for more. And more, and more.
My child does not eat. We have been wrestling with this for months, and her doctor emphasized that I should be feeding her more fatty foods, like butter (which she can't have because of the bloody poop it results in). I have tried to feed her many things, and the majority of the time she simply refuses, which leads to her being more hungry and results in her being severely irritable.
Thus: screaming fits of hungry rage.
Until this breakthrough. Surprisingly enough, as a one-year-old she is easily distracted and soon gets tired and irritated of sitting in her high chair. Most of the food on her tray goes to the dogs. However, if I allow her to go about her business and then take the opportunity to shove food in her mouth as she comes near me, SHE EATS! And, she eat enough that I am flabbergasted and a bit humiliated that I didn't think of this before.
This is our new routine: I will carry some type of food with me, say hot cereal, and I will offer some to her as she plays and comes near me. I refuse to chase after her with the food, she does have to wander back over to me to get some, but happily for me she returns to me at regular intervals and eventually eats enough to satisfy my need for her to be stuffed with food at all times (as is the drive in most mothers, commonly labeled as "food pushing").
This morning she ate a bunch of Cheerios, some pancake, and she drank some hypoallergenic formula (we are gradually starting the weaning process) and some Odwalla strawberry superfood.
I give us a PASS on this test, excuse me while I pat myself on the back.
Second test: SLEEP.
As mentioned above JG is easily distracted, and this crosses over to her nap and bed times. Nursing her to sleep has turned into a process where I just get frustrated and want to lock her in the closet, and in the end she gets what she wants: she gets to stay up with us.
And I don't get the two hours I normally get to spend with my husband at night.
Since Alex didn't see the closet solution working out for us (and probably resulting in child welfare knocking at our door) he deemed it time to put the crib back together. Because, as odd as it may sound to you, I was nursing her to sleep in her crib, and we had replaced one gate side with a guard rail. It made it easier for me to get out... and, unfortunately, easier for her to get out as well.
So on Saturday we put JG to bed in her crib and let her cry for five minutes, check on her, and on for 45 minutes until she passed out in the sitting position. Chin presses against her chest, body leaning forward, and legs sprawled in front of her. Alex eased her back, calmed her down again, and she was out.
Success? Time-wise, yes, it's been taking me two hours to get her to sleep, and most of that is spent trying to get her to lay down at all. Nap time she cries for about 10 minutes, and bed time is more like 40, and listening to her cry feels like razor blades dancing in my skull... but I am relieved not have to fight with her to get her to fall asleep.
I mean, it's still sort of like fighting... but I feel like I'm more on the winning side. The mean winning side, because it seems a bit unfair. But, what in life is 100% fair?
Pass or fail? I think it's a little of both. I'm not a big fan of letting her cry herself to sleep, but her negotiating skills (yes, google it, toddlers negotiate like crazy) are getting to the point where I want her to know that when I say "bed time" I mean it.
I am, however, still sleeping her her room when she wakes up in the middle of the night. Why?
When was the last time you woke up at two in the morning and had to comfort someone back to sleep and then go back to your own room and comfort yourself back to sleep? It's just easier to comfort together. Plus, this is a weaning process for both of us. Sadly enough, I sleep better in her room than I do my own, but I am now going to bed in my own room first.
Small steps, man, small steps.
So, how did we do?
First test: JG's screaming fits.
You may remember reading about me pulling my hair out while JG threw fits, and me being entirely clueless as to what action to take.
So, Alex gets home Tuesday night and JG is still being a terror. We both stare at her in frustration, and I let her scream while I make dinner and Alex deals with her. While we're eating dinner, JG is just rambling along around us and Alex gives her a bit of curry off his fork. She eats it, goes back to her thing, and then comes back for more. And more, and more.
My child does not eat. We have been wrestling with this for months, and her doctor emphasized that I should be feeding her more fatty foods, like butter (which she can't have because of the bloody poop it results in). I have tried to feed her many things, and the majority of the time she simply refuses, which leads to her being more hungry and results in her being severely irritable.
Thus: screaming fits of hungry rage.
Until this breakthrough. Surprisingly enough, as a one-year-old she is easily distracted and soon gets tired and irritated of sitting in her high chair. Most of the food on her tray goes to the dogs. However, if I allow her to go about her business and then take the opportunity to shove food in her mouth as she comes near me, SHE EATS! And, she eat enough that I am flabbergasted and a bit humiliated that I didn't think of this before.
This is our new routine: I will carry some type of food with me, say hot cereal, and I will offer some to her as she plays and comes near me. I refuse to chase after her with the food, she does have to wander back over to me to get some, but happily for me she returns to me at regular intervals and eventually eats enough to satisfy my need for her to be stuffed with food at all times (as is the drive in most mothers, commonly labeled as "food pushing").
This morning she ate a bunch of Cheerios, some pancake, and she drank some hypoallergenic formula (we are gradually starting the weaning process) and some Odwalla strawberry superfood.
I give us a PASS on this test, excuse me while I pat myself on the back.
Second test: SLEEP.
As mentioned above JG is easily distracted, and this crosses over to her nap and bed times. Nursing her to sleep has turned into a process where I just get frustrated and want to lock her in the closet, and in the end she gets what she wants: she gets to stay up with us.
And I don't get the two hours I normally get to spend with my husband at night.
Since Alex didn't see the closet solution working out for us (and probably resulting in child welfare knocking at our door) he deemed it time to put the crib back together. Because, as odd as it may sound to you, I was nursing her to sleep in her crib, and we had replaced one gate side with a guard rail. It made it easier for me to get out... and, unfortunately, easier for her to get out as well.
So on Saturday we put JG to bed in her crib and let her cry for five minutes, check on her, and on for 45 minutes until she passed out in the sitting position. Chin presses against her chest, body leaning forward, and legs sprawled in front of her. Alex eased her back, calmed her down again, and she was out.
Success? Time-wise, yes, it's been taking me two hours to get her to sleep, and most of that is spent trying to get her to lay down at all. Nap time she cries for about 10 minutes, and bed time is more like 40, and listening to her cry feels like razor blades dancing in my skull... but I am relieved not have to fight with her to get her to fall asleep.
I mean, it's still sort of like fighting... but I feel like I'm more on the winning side. The mean winning side, because it seems a bit unfair. But, what in life is 100% fair?
Pass or fail? I think it's a little of both. I'm not a big fan of letting her cry herself to sleep, but her negotiating skills (yes, google it, toddlers negotiate like crazy) are getting to the point where I want her to know that when I say "bed time" I mean it.
I am, however, still sleeping her her room when she wakes up in the middle of the night. Why?
When was the last time you woke up at two in the morning and had to comfort someone back to sleep and then go back to your own room and comfort yourself back to sleep? It's just easier to comfort together. Plus, this is a weaning process for both of us. Sadly enough, I sleep better in her room than I do my own, but I am now going to bed in my own room first.
Small steps, man, small steps.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Sleep Fight Club
I say, "Nap."
She says, "No."
I say, "Sleep."
She says, "Why?"
I say, "You've got to be exhausted."
She says, "You've got to be kidding."
And this is usually the point where I start pulling my hair out, big wads of it that you can see tumbling around the wood floors in my house.
Have you ever been around a sleepy and cranky baby? Compare it to being forced to spend two hours of every day inside a small jail cell where monkeys are encouraged to throw their feces at you.
It may even be more horrible than that.
Not every day is like that... but most days are. I have to admit that I am still (for the most part) nursing JG to sleep. Which means I lie beside her and wait for her to fall asleep, sometimes it takes ten minutes, and sometimes an hour or more.
It just depends on how much patience I have. There are days where it is limitless and I will wait and wait with her until she finally nods off. Most days, however, I throw up my hands after ten minutes or so (especially if she's fighting me) and leave the room and let her do whatever it is that she does.
She wins the sleep fight about 50% of the time, the other 50% I hold her down and basically force her to fall sleep. Fighting sleep is pretty tiring.
For both of us.
She says, "No."
I say, "Sleep."
She says, "Why?"
I say, "You've got to be exhausted."
She says, "You've got to be kidding."
And this is usually the point where I start pulling my hair out, big wads of it that you can see tumbling around the wood floors in my house.
Have you ever been around a sleepy and cranky baby? Compare it to being forced to spend two hours of every day inside a small jail cell where monkeys are encouraged to throw their feces at you.
It may even be more horrible than that.
Not every day is like that... but most days are. I have to admit that I am still (for the most part) nursing JG to sleep. Which means I lie beside her and wait for her to fall asleep, sometimes it takes ten minutes, and sometimes an hour or more.
It just depends on how much patience I have. There are days where it is limitless and I will wait and wait with her until she finally nods off. Most days, however, I throw up my hands after ten minutes or so (especially if she's fighting me) and leave the room and let her do whatever it is that she does.
She wins the sleep fight about 50% of the time, the other 50% I hold her down and basically force her to fall sleep. Fighting sleep is pretty tiring.
For both of us.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Fourteen Months
For those of you who read this blog regularly you may have the impression that I don't like being a mother, that I take my daughter for granted, or that I'm just not very good at this whole "mother" thing.
I will blame all of those things on my writing tone, which I have been told (and I agree) is pretty sarcastic... sometimes dripping with the stuff. If you ever meet me it may make more sense.
I will say that I am still learning how to be a good mom, but other than that I despise reading mommy blogs where the children do nothing wrong.
My children are perfect! When they poop it smells like flowers! I don't know what a tantrum is?
Nonsense mommy bloggers. Non. Sense. Therefore, my approach is more realistic, I like to try to be honest, but I do tend to leave out a lot of the awesome stuff, where I am amazed by her and what fills me with adoration.
My baby is fourteen months old today. FOURTEEN MONTHS! I am thrilled how much she has grown and developed. She talks up a thunderstorm, words include, but are not limited to:
1. Mommy
2. Daddy
3. doggy
4. puppy
5. kitty
6. hang on
7. down
8. thank you
9. mama
10. Maggie
11. really
12. hi
13. that one
and more that I can't think of right now.
JG knows what she wants and will get upset if she doesn't get it, however we are figuring out a negotiating process. She is growing more confident about walking every day. And she is hilarious and constantly doing the unexpected. All the time.
Oh man. Being a mother is such a challenge, but we are working it out together, one stress-filled and love absorbing day at a time.
I will blame all of those things on my writing tone, which I have been told (and I agree) is pretty sarcastic... sometimes dripping with the stuff. If you ever meet me it may make more sense.
I will say that I am still learning how to be a good mom, but other than that I despise reading mommy blogs where the children do nothing wrong.
My children are perfect! When they poop it smells like flowers! I don't know what a tantrum is?
Nonsense mommy bloggers. Non. Sense. Therefore, my approach is more realistic, I like to try to be honest, but I do tend to leave out a lot of the awesome stuff, where I am amazed by her and what fills me with adoration.
My baby is fourteen months old today. FOURTEEN MONTHS! I am thrilled how much she has grown and developed. She talks up a thunderstorm, words include, but are not limited to:
1. Mommy
2. Daddy
3. doggy
4. puppy
5. kitty
6. hang on
7. down
8. thank you
9. mama
10. Maggie
11. really
12. hi
13. that one
and more that I can't think of right now.
JG knows what she wants and will get upset if she doesn't get it, however we are figuring out a negotiating process. She is growing more confident about walking every day. And she is hilarious and constantly doing the unexpected. All the time.
Oh man. Being a mother is such a challenge, but we are working it out together, one stress-filled and love absorbing day at a time.
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