Archive for April, 2008

what is old…

…is new again. My sweet sister Pentyne became a bride this past weekend,  celebrating and  renewing a commitment of fifteen + years, dating back to high school. And for the first time ever, I cried at a wedding. A few times. I couldn’t help myself. It was so beautiful, and the kiddo and I were honored to be a part of the bridal party. I think the kiddo wants to do this again, actually. Especially the part afterwards, when the music comes on and she can hit the floor and get her boogie on. I have one question though….how did fun become so exhausting? I am old.

Last week, for no reason other than that I was bored, I made up a character, an old lady with an accent of no specifically known origin, and substituted her for myself all day whenever the kiddo asked me a question. Now, however, the kiddo prefers this fiction to her own mother it seems. She wants Rosella Bella to read her stories, to pick her up at preschool, give her a bath, and so on. I’m feeling rather rejected.


did you know?

Daffodils can speak.

They wait, stranded in the fresh spring earth, begging for a one on one. With the kiddo. What do they say to her? They beg; beg, she says, to come home with her just for the privilige of joining the other pilfered posies sitting in a vase on the kitchen counter of our place, all of them aquired one by one after our long walks.

Because beautifying the grounds of the complex where we live isn’t good enough.


things I’ve noticed…

….just little things, while I’m in and around here on school break with the kiddo:

  • Ritalin has not in anyway improved my utter inattention and disinterest in the finer details of cleaning. My cleaning sloth is chemical resistant, in spite of recent acquisitions of fragrant sponges in very pretty colors and citrusy scented cleaners.
  • I’ve been to the playground here in and out all week and had two little girls tell me within five minutes of meeting them, that their moms don’t pay attention to them. I’m bewildered. It could be a matter of perspective…the kiddo spends 100% of her time with me outside of school and might throw a statement out there if asked. She always wants me—all of me—all the time. More than I even have, so I understand the otherside. I just know that parents are more important to their kids than perhaps they know.
  • My birds like baths more than even me. And they’re ridiculously messy about it. Just let it all hang out, why don’t you guys???? Sheesh.
  • There is never too much of a good thing in twins. I love that I live near twins!
  • After spending the vacation watching the kiddo impersonate Spiderman by scaling chain link fences (webs, Mama!), and practicing basketball, I can probably say with some accuracy that my kid is not a girly-girl.
  • I’ve been missing these for years In New England and wondered if they were purely an upstate New York thing…but Pentyne, pay attention, because I found them! Headlights! During the kiddo’s field trip at Price Chopper! Some of you may not know what these are, but these doughnuts are a soft, unfilled pillow of fluffy fried dough, with the tops dipped in chocolate and garnished with a dollop of white frosting in the middle. That dollop is so important! As well as the omittance of filling. Can’t eat filled doughnuts. Blech!




Today in the Deciding Room, where, beyond lots of time spent waiting,  nothing ever seems to get accomplished (sigh), I diverted my attention from the details of the room (those bannisters still need a good dusting. And two lightbulbs are out. Beneath my seat where my fidgeting fingers traveled, there was a wad of gum. Not fresh, but somewhat al dente enough that I began to wonder about it’s germ content on contact. I digress) by reading. I read Into the Wild, a biography on Christopher McCandless, a man whose story haunts me, but that’s for another post. I started in the beginning and was more than halfway through the book by the end of the session. In front of me at one point stood a lawyer in a natty three piece suit telling the story of his 40th birthday. All he wanted was a Mont Blanc pen, a three freaking hundred fifty dollar writing implement. It was oddly surreal,  reading this true story of a young man who donated all $24,000.00 of his own money to OXFAM to feed the homeless; someone who regularly subsisted on a ten dollar bag of rice for a month at a time on his fateful trek across the Americas and finally into the bush of Alaska, while this man whined about an absurdly expensive  pen which ultimately did not write well.

surprises, surprises

Yesterday morning, I completed the last half of a required six hour parenting course before I go to the deciding room again tomorrow. I put this thing off for ohhhhh, four months. Not that it really mattered. It only matters when there is an agreement on the table. If there were an agreement, I wouldn’t have to go to the deciding room tomorrow. Anyhooo, it was a class of about eight people, who did not want to be there on a sunny Saturday. But by the second session, we were all comfortable with each other, which was good, because we weren’t being lectured in this course; oh no, we were there to share experiences and discuss. Which is exactly why I’d put this off for four months in the first place. I LOATHE these very things. Actually, if you don’t know already, I’m pretty averse to public exchange in general, thank you. My attention whore days are over and out. Done. In public I conduct myself as though I were attired in an invisible cloak, and dress and look pretty much accordingly. I was set to do my time under the radar at this powow and duck out quickly and quietly, certificate in my hot little hands to waive in front of my impatient attorney tomorrow. But damned if the woman sitting next to me in class didn’t have a story whose details were oh so similar to mine. I found myself sharing details, experiences, and perspectives, in spite of myself. In the first session.

I returned yesterday, feeling rather self conscious and vowing to keep a low profile. I guess I made an impression, because when we broke off into small groups according to the ages of our charges, I found myself with only one mother, and we had an amazing conversation. She was moving to a place in Massachusetts that I have been well acquainted with in and on again, off again manner, returning to the area like a magnet after any major change in my life. We had a lot to talk about regarding the character of the town and its charms.

And then she went on to tell me that she was thrilled that I was in her group, because I was so outgoing in the first sessions, and because I am……..fascinating. I was dumbfounded. I don’t want to insert the tired cliche of looking over my shoulder to see if she was talking about some other person, but I had some kind of feeling like that. Another lady had actually brought a blank book and presented it to me before she parted, tellling me to write. So six hours of my life became a nice warm fuzzy, and even though I present myself as being too cool for such things, I will take it.

Today it was cold and rainy, but yesterday was a stunning, seventy degree day. We spent it outdoors, where I peeked at the twins across the way and made cooing noises while the kiddo made a new friend. Wonder of wonders, she’s her own age. This is new. Usually, she gravitates toward older girls who fuss over her instead of treating her like an equal, which happens when you interact with your peers. I’m thrilled. The twins look great. They are fraternal boys, and are as different as night and day. One is dark haired, with boyish good looks, and an easy going manner. The other boy has blue eyes, and a face with ancient features, the kind one would find in Lebanon or Egypt. Nothing is easy for him. He never seems comfortable and cries frequently. I love cuddling both of them, but guess which one I gravitate to?

Miles the alpha male has finally constructed a nice, cushy nest out of the cigar box i hung up for them. It is more than three quarters packed with shredded paper from my shredder, and it’s where the two sweetiebirds now sleep at night. That’s a lot of work for a little bird. I like Miles very much, though sometimes I look at him and wonder if I should have named him Romeo.


The kiddo has adopted another pet. It’s a ladybug she found in the doorway a day ago. She made quite the crib for it out of a toy baking tray, a bed made out of a soda cap, and she even gave it a nice little rock to hang out around. Unfortunately, it  hasn’t moved this afternoon, and I fear the worst. I’ve been avoiding the issue. This is because last night, while we were watching a movie, ladybug got out and was lost in the quilted throw we were snuggled under. Havoc and drama ensued…”Ladybug, ladybug, come back! WAAAAAAH!!!! I’ve lost my ladybuggggggg! WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” And then, nothing short of a miracle….I found the thing, right in the folds of the blanket. Thank heavens. And now, this…this demise. Ugh,  I can’t revisit this drama again, so soon.

I’ve been working with her on reading. Just the three letter words. It’s been more enjoyable than I’d expected; never saw myself doing things like this and liking it. She gets frustrated at times, but she’s making progress and when I suggest a break, she refuses. I’m sure teachers experience this, but I can see she’s just on the brink of a breakthrough. I know she’s going to LOVE reading. I told my mom after I learned to read that I could read anything, and there I went, after that.

She’s discovered…Spiderman. She walks around with me casting spiderwebs from her fingers, anywhere we go. I didn’t see this coming. She also, to my delight, has expressed an interest in karate, which I think would be a good thing for her in the fall.

Our lives are busy with us both being in school (and she loves that Mama goes to school), but it’s settling down at the same time. I feel as though we’ve turned a corner of sorts.

See you tomorrow, peeps!


April 2008
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