Monday, April 24, 2006
Okay then.
Well. I haven't been blogging so much lately, as you can see readership, because I've been extremely busy. And also because lately parenthood has been making me want to cleave my own head in two with Casimir's dull Fisher Price saw. And who wants to read such stress. I do actually quite like to vent, which is probably rather apparent here, but venting about one's own children and parenting skills is always a risky pursuit. It leaves me feeling guilty that I'm not appreciating what wonderful, healthy children I've been given, and it also makes me worry that the person still reading this may think I don't appreciate or love the wonderful, healthy children I've been given.
It's just that all this three year-old stuff is causing me to send daily emails to my husband at work with subjects lines like: THEY'RE DRIVING ME CRAZY. (But I do love my children!) And then there's the tantrums, and the nap resistance. And my continual forgetfulness with how reverse psychology works. Today I actually forgot that "Oh do you need a kleenex? We shouldn't stick our fingers in our noses" really means "Stick your finger all the way up to your brain, if you can." And this type of stuff just makes me apeshit if I've had only one and not two iced coffees (but I love my children!).
So anyway. I also keep forgetting that the shitassness usually peaks by 9am for some reason, and then begins to receed when we begin some activity or outdoor venture. So if 9am finds me trying to go to the bathroom with a fussing 9 month-old on my lap and a 3 year-old rolling on the floor, thinking I'll never make it til noon, I try to remember it will get better before I get to the point of truly wanting to sell at least the older one (I love my children!). A few times though, I've even resorted to the 1-2-3 counting and threatening to take certain toys away plan, which I was always against on the grounds that it was not very nice, effective, or logical. As in: On the count of 1, I will stop being your mother if you don't pick up the food you threw. (Not really! I love my children!) On many a day lately, I think, "omigod, what have I done? Why is this so difficult today and do many parents want to run away screaming?" And then every night I think, "Well that wasn't so bad. I love them so much. I should really lighten up. " The change in thinking might have something to do with the fact that they're sleeping. But I don't know. I think that's all for now.
It's just that all this three year-old stuff is causing me to send daily emails to my husband at work with subjects lines like: THEY'RE DRIVING ME CRAZY. (But I do love my children!) And then there's the tantrums, and the nap resistance. And my continual forgetfulness with how reverse psychology works. Today I actually forgot that "Oh do you need a kleenex? We shouldn't stick our fingers in our noses" really means "Stick your finger all the way up to your brain, if you can." And this type of stuff just makes me apeshit if I've had only one and not two iced coffees (but I love my children!).
So anyway. I also keep forgetting that the shitassness usually peaks by 9am for some reason, and then begins to receed when we begin some activity or outdoor venture. So if 9am finds me trying to go to the bathroom with a fussing 9 month-old on my lap and a 3 year-old rolling on the floor, thinking I'll never make it til noon, I try to remember it will get better before I get to the point of truly wanting to sell at least the older one (I love my children!). A few times though, I've even resorted to the 1-2-3 counting and threatening to take certain toys away plan, which I was always against on the grounds that it was not very nice, effective, or logical. As in: On the count of 1, I will stop being your mother if you don't pick up the food you threw. (Not really! I love my children!) On many a day lately, I think, "omigod, what have I done? Why is this so difficult today and do many parents want to run away screaming?" And then every night I think, "Well that wasn't so bad. I love them so much. I should really lighten up. " The change in thinking might have something to do with the fact that they're sleeping. But I don't know. I think that's all for now.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
I think humpty dumpty was drunk.
Hyuk Hyuk!
Something about that picture makes me think of some sort of down home, countryish knee slap and exclamation.
Well. Haven't I been too busy to blog. Wiping cute butts for a living is time consuming, after all. Anyway, let's see, yesterday I dragged Casimir to our little Pre pre-K class. It's basically a short class for tots (potty training optional) where moms drop them off so they (the kids or the moms, whichever applies) can get used to being on their own before the big preschool transition. Which means that yesterday was week 5 of this class and I still haven't been able to leave the room. When we get there I see some other moms stepping into their SUVs, hotfooting it out of there already, but Casimir tells me that he'll "let" me stay.
Okay.
Anyway, I'm kind of glad I've witnessed some of it, so I can be properly apprehensive about this preschool. I had formerly been pretty impressed with what I'd observed there, but this class is too big. And then the helping mom brought Twinkies for a snack, which I'm guessing they don't serve up at the local Montessori school. You don't have to get all organic and whole grain on me for snack, but I thought twinkies sort of went away sometime in the 1970s? No? And after the twinkies every damn little thing was annoying me. Little Fatima (no I can't spell it) began to cry inconsolably, and after being unable to comfort her, the otherwise likable instructor said that she doesn't speak English, and isn't that a shame? Isn't that a shame? Totally! I mean my god. You're three! Fricking learn our language already or go back to your country. Jeezus. Learning two languages is no excuse, because if you haven't got both down by three, well what then? How are you going to follow instructions about painting your easter bunny cut out? Really. And then I keep going back to the twinkies. Lord knows I could never handle 20 three year-olds, but then doesn't mean I'm not going to be persnickety about how other people do. I don't know.
And I know I talk way too much about children's television so that one would think we sit and watch hours a day, which we never have even gotten close to (please note that, because that makes me a good mother you know) but Casimir has gotten over his fear of clowns and has taken to the Doodlebops, the most dumb ass show ever to come out of Canada. Someone producing this show thought it was a good idea to have these head puppets, which are basically like heads on a stick. Talking heads on a stick. But they're talking heads with powdered faces and big white powdered wigs piled up high on their head. You know, sort of Marie Antoinette-ish. Very French Revolutionish. But for kids! Brilliant! Who needs to shield them from CSI previews when you have the Doodlebops? The hippies are onto something. I'm giving up TV. Someday.
Something about that picture makes me think of some sort of down home, countryish knee slap and exclamation.
Well. Haven't I been too busy to blog. Wiping cute butts for a living is time consuming, after all. Anyway, let's see, yesterday I dragged Casimir to our little Pre pre-K class. It's basically a short class for tots (potty training optional) where moms drop them off so they (the kids or the moms, whichever applies) can get used to being on their own before the big preschool transition. Which means that yesterday was week 5 of this class and I still haven't been able to leave the room. When we get there I see some other moms stepping into their SUVs, hotfooting it out of there already, but Casimir tells me that he'll "let" me stay.
Okay.
Anyway, I'm kind of glad I've witnessed some of it, so I can be properly apprehensive about this preschool. I had formerly been pretty impressed with what I'd observed there, but this class is too big. And then the helping mom brought Twinkies for a snack, which I'm guessing they don't serve up at the local Montessori school. You don't have to get all organic and whole grain on me for snack, but I thought twinkies sort of went away sometime in the 1970s? No? And after the twinkies every damn little thing was annoying me. Little Fatima (no I can't spell it) began to cry inconsolably, and after being unable to comfort her, the otherwise likable instructor said that she doesn't speak English, and isn't that a shame? Isn't that a shame? Totally! I mean my god. You're three! Fricking learn our language already or go back to your country. Jeezus. Learning two languages is no excuse, because if you haven't got both down by three, well what then? How are you going to follow instructions about painting your easter bunny cut out? Really. And then I keep going back to the twinkies. Lord knows I could never handle 20 three year-olds, but then doesn't mean I'm not going to be persnickety about how other people do. I don't know.
And I know I talk way too much about children's television so that one would think we sit and watch hours a day, which we never have even gotten close to (please note that, because that makes me a good mother you know) but Casimir has gotten over his fear of clowns and has taken to the Doodlebops, the most dumb ass show ever to come out of Canada. Someone producing this show thought it was a good idea to have these head puppets, which are basically like heads on a stick. Talking heads on a stick. But they're talking heads with powdered faces and big white powdered wigs piled up high on their head. You know, sort of Marie Antoinette-ish. Very French Revolutionish. But for kids! Brilliant! Who needs to shield them from CSI previews when you have the Doodlebops? The hippies are onto something. I'm giving up TV. Someday.
