5/31/07

One small step for everyone else...

It's amazing what little things may become triumphs in the lives of kids and parents.

I mean, the first time your baby sleeps through the night is cause for a freaking house party. First solids, sitting up, crawling, walking, talking, potty-training...even non-parents understand and ask about these things at the proverbial water cooler.

But as your children grow, you begin to feel self-congratulatory for the most ridiculous things. And when you talk about them, other people probably look at you like you're a bit insane.

For instance, today my mom and I celebrated because E made it one entire day without throwing a hissy fit or whining or crying. A whole day. Now, those lucky/unlucky individuals among you who have never spent an entire day with a very spoiled, high-tempered, stubborn small child may not understand how blissful or terrible that one day can be. And today was blissful. No crying when nap/bed time came around. No screaming when we left the mall. No whining for cookies. (And before you judge, yes, he does get into trouble if he does these things. I have to be rather strict to offset my parents' shameless spoiling of him. But I'd rather he just didn't misbehave at all, so I didn't have to discipline him...) E was, literally, the perfect child. But people who don't have Mini-Me's running around (and even some who do) generally think, "That's how children should always be, you must be doing something wrong." Don't deny it, I used to think the same things.

And the very first flossing session E ever endured deserved a late-night call to Nanay so that she could share in our collective pride. He solemnly informed her that because he is now 4 (and NOT 3), he can hold still long enough for his teeth to be flossed. After all, "10 year old boys can do it, so 4 year old boys can too. But 2 and 3 year olds can NOT because they're babies." I mean, seriously, flossing is not something that anyone but your dentist truly cares about.

But these little things are so important because they still mark the passing of time for us. They are signs that our children won't always be small, that they're growing and changing right in front of our eyes. They're reminders that we should take the time to appreciate what is happening in this moment, despite the temper tantrums and bed-wetting that make us secretly wish our children were older. Because someday they will no longer call to us to come see that they put their socks on correctly or they made their beds. Days will be shorter, time will pass more quickly, and the things we celebrate will be so much bigger. And we will miss those small triumphs, because they were at the beginning...

Now, if only E and I can start having the sort of triumph that involves him staying in his own bed all night.

5/29/07

The Stage Life

My parents, E and I drove to visit my little sister at her summer job in a nearby state today. She is a performer (read: singer and dancer) at an amusement park there. This particular park has several live shows that run during the summer, one of which is a musical revue focusing on rock and roll hits from the 60s to the 90s or so. They were having Friends and Family Day, so we drove 6 or so hours to see the show for free!

It was a blast! She's always wanted to do a show like it, and it was great to see her in her element finally! She did a great job and made me teary-eyed at parts (which is ridiculous...I'm so emotional it's sickening...). The kid made me proud.

E danced through the entire thing. He was sooooo excited to see his "Lulu" up on stage. I'm really hoping to foster this music love in him, and I'd love to put him in dance lessons, but I know there's such a huge social stigma that I'm afraid I'm going to have to just teach him myself and wait till he's old enough to take break-dancing lessons or something. Because, you know, boys who dance are cool only if they throw themselves on the floor and contort themselves into weird positions. Because that's manly...

ANYWAY! At one point, the cast were performing Material Girl and the girls were dressed up in the classic Marilyn Monroe pink sheath gowns and gloves, and they happened to be breakaway gowns that ended up as little mini things. And of course, they were properly utilized in the show, much to the amusement of the audience.

Well, when asked what his favorite part of the show had been, E said "I liked it when they took their clothes off..."

Just wrong.

5/24/07

Random Song Lyrics

Nowhere Near
~Tracey Thorn

Dog days of summer
Heat haze and bad temper
And whole days of shouting
“Would you listen to me?”

See, I’m the one in charge now
What happened to me?
I turned into someone’s mother

Really someone should give me a uniform
Or someone should show me where is the door
Or someone should come around and explain
How it is that love forgets to speak its name

And then you turn on the news
And it’s somebody else’s news
And it’s always such bad news
And I’m no good with sad news anymore
Gets me running upstairs
To count heads in tangled beds

And someone tears up that uniform
And somewhere gently closes a door
And I’m right here once more
Crying, confessing, and counting my blessings

Don’t let go
Cause we’ll never know
And even when the sky is clear
And the moon looks really close
Well it’s nowhere near

5/22/07

Imagined Slights

I hate doctors. They're snobby. And they don't listen well.

I hate med students too. They're pretty snobby as well. And they always act like they carry the freaking weight of the world on their shoulders.

But I hate blond wives of 3rd and 4th year med students the most right now. Or I did last Saturday. Now, this is a fair warning. This isn't a particularly kind post. And most of it's pure, evil speculation on my part. And I don't really feel this way about such people in general. But the point of this post is to illustrate a situation that may someday arise in your life. So mark it well and be prepared...

Last Friday was the last day of school for me (Praise the Almighty, Brother!). So on Saturday, the school holds this big stupid shindig called "Big Stupid Shindig" (I'm lying) for all the medical students and their families/friends/significant others/escorts. It started at 7 PM and ostensibly went until midnight.

Well, our families (see above) were invited, and I had already shelled out mucho buckaroos for my favorite babysitter (my little brother) on Friday night. So I decided I'd just haul the munchkin along for kicks. I had a long talk with him before we went about speaking when spoken to and minding manners and not running around, etc. And he was actually pretty much the best kid ever that night, and I told him so after we left. It's such a gift when our children behave precisely the way we want them to, when we want them to. Mainly because it happens so infrequently...

E was the only child there above the age of 2 (not counting the male portion of the attendees, naturally). And apparently, all the mommies and daddies of those 2-year-olds were SUPER PALS. All the 2-year-olds either had pregnant moms or siblings in slings, which I think is pretty cool. I mean, that way, you don't ever have to actually play with your children, because you just provide them with automatic playmates for life!! (And I'm kidding. My mom had both my younger sister and brother before I was three and a half. But seriously, we did have playmates for life...) But all the kids had long blond curls, whether boy/girl, and were dressed in that My-Child-Will-Grow-Up-To-Play-Golf-On-His/Her-Lunch-Breaks kind of clothing from the Gap or wherever parents find that sort of thing (personally, I think I must go blind when that sort of clothing appears before my eyes, because I have never seen it for anyone other than rich old men and their trophy wives. Maybe I shop at the wrong stores...). All the mothers had the same kind of haircut and the same kind of maternity clothing. They probably all grew up in the same preppy schools and took preppy dance lessons from the same preppy teachers. But I'm not bitter. I'm just saying...

All of the kids were playing on a raised platform at one end of the room, which was right next to the table where I was sitting with my friends. Some of the other parents were up on the platform with their kids, but I could see E from where I was sitting (and he's not 2...), so I didn't feel the need to be right there to point out the "horsies" out the window for his visual enjoyment.

Now, my child is very, very comfortable with adults (most of the time). He will initiate conversations with total strangers and is quite capable of holding up his end of the dialogue for a looooong time. He also likes babies (meaning, anyone shorter/younger than he is...so not that many people). So my darling boy was striking up convos with these trophy wives about their toddlers....

And they wouldn't talk to him.

It just about broke my heart, watching him try to get their attention and them turning away to rave one more time about the divine pedicures they got at this so-posh spa where everyone goes nowadays (now, keep in mind that I am extrapolating. But I'm still probably right.). Luckily, E didn't notice, other than the fact that he was being straight up ignored most of the time. But still. It hurt me.

I'm not sure why they wouldn't talk to him. It's not like you can't understand him when he speaks. And it's not like they couldn't hear him (believe me, that wasn't it). The only thing I could come up with is that they just weren't used to talking to people who actually speak in sentences (as opposed to their own toddlers, their very busy med student husbands, and their empty-headed friends...yes, it irritated me, can you tell?).

Anyway, for those of you with very small children: learn to talk to the older kids, if you can't already. It's not hard, I promise. I can carry on a conversation with E without even listening to what he's saying half the time, because he will talk with very little encouragement. Someday those kids will be yours. And you'll be the mom cringing in the corner as your child gets ignored.



I can't wait till E starts grade school. Can't you just imagine how hateful I'll be then?

5/16/07

Strange Dichotomy

This morning, on my way to take my final Histology exam (Ever! Thank you, Jesus!), I was listening to my favorite morning radio show (radio morning show? I don't know...), which follows the usual method of bringing up interesting/inane/ridiculous topics of conversation and asking people to call in about them. Like: "What's the craziest thing your teenager's ever done?" or "What do you think about giving little kids their own cell phones?" Usually they manage to have pretty interesting discussions while snarking about everyone and everything under the sun. So, naturally, I like it.

Well, this morning, they were talking about high school graduation and how the respect factor has left ceremonial shows like it. At this point, they were saying that some parents are just downright obnoxious about their kids' graduations. You know the type, the ones who bring air horns and silly string to utilize the instant Junior walks across the stage, or who paint big, glittery signs that say "
WE LOVE YOU, BABY GIRL, WE'RE SO PROUD OF YOU FOR GRADUATING FROM FREAKING HIGH SCHOOL!". (Which, I'm not deriding high school graduation. It's a proud time for everyone. But there are ways to celebrate and then there are ways to celebrate. Painting your hairy, middle-aged chest in the likeness of a school logo is not one of them. Save it for homecoming, Dad.)

ANYWAY! So they're talking about how their own generation (
it's a classic rock station, so it's not like these people are college kids or anything) has lost the ability to regulate themselves or whatever. They brought up fights at Little League games, insane soccer moms, etc. Basically, middle-aged people are rotten. And old. They have no redeeming qualities unless they're radio deejays.

Well, then, all of a sudden, they segued into how terrible "kids" (meaning teenagers, mostly) are today, how they have no respect for their elders, etc. etc. etc.

Hm, where do you think the kids learned it? From that harbinger of evil, MTV? From those terrible people in showbiz today? Sure, maybe. But who are those people? The great majority of pop culture icons are not in the same generation as the greatest portion of their fans. The great majority of producers are not teenagers, I hope. So my generation and those behind me are basically being fed devil smut by the older generations. Sure, at some point, we have to take responsibility for our own actions, but if we're already put at a disadvantage by the way we were raised, isn't it that much more difficult for us to turn into saints (
and no, I'm not talking about myself here. I am practically a saint, so I don't want you thinking things about my mama and daddy...THEY'RE GOOD PEOPLE!)?!?!

But the real clincher is that I don't think it's necessarily the fault of "bad" parenting or the fault of "our immoral society" or even the fault of "those darn kids"! It's really evolution's fault. Or God's fault, depending on which biologically developmental view you are currently embracing. (
PS: If you're Catholic, like some of us are blessed enough to be, you can believe that it's both evolution AND God's fault...Good ol' JPII said so himself.)

WARNING: RATHER RIDICULOUS EVOLUTIONARY CONCEPT DISCUSSED BELOW!! DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE A NATURALLY SERIOUS PERSON!!

I think the problem is, that at one time, in our primordial past, parents had to make sure their children obeyed implicitly, in order to promote sheer survival. I mean, if Sally Mae asks every time why she has to come in when the vampires are roaming the hillside, Sally Mae's parents' genes are gonna die out pretty quickly. (
Because, obviously, Sally Mae's gonna get bitten, and vampires don't have children, didn't you know?) So it was in the best interests of the gene pool to foster traits that enforced discipline and rules. Much like in the animal kingdom. I mean, there aren't many baby kittens wandering far from their mothers, right? Because if they do, they're probably going to Baby Kitten Heaven pretty fast.

However, at some point, the needs of the gene pool changed. Strict and ultimate discipline wasn't necessary for survival any more, and in fact, the traits of more lenient parents were (
because those parents were just more likely to let their onry teenager live after sneaking in 2 hours past curfew, therefore leading to the propagation of those genes...see how that works? You now know more than they do in Kansas!).

And parents can't really help that they're so freaking excited about their kids growing up! I mean, what sort of evolutionary advantage does it give you to have your kids stay at home all their lives? Maybe in ye olden days, when people were liable to die a lot sooner, they didn't need any encouragement to get out there and start havin' babies. Evolutionary drive does a lot for libido. But nowadays, people can have kids till they're practically going straight from the nursing home to L&D! There's not really that urge to start playing the Barry White records at 18 any more (I mean, don't get me wrong, plenty of people still do that...right?...I wouldn't know. I'm just saying, the overall drive is different. Whatever. Shut up.) So people are complacent to hang out at home. And mom and dad are starting to evolve to where they want you out of the house so you can go propagate the species. So they make a big deal about all the big "life events" you're experiencing as a kid. I mean, come on, they have a graduation for kindergarten now. Parents even got the teachers in on the "let's encourage them to grow up and leave home" Master Plan.

My point is, next time you see a kid with his pants hanging down to
there or a mom beating another parent to a bloody pulp with her giant foam finger...don't roll your eyes and blame society. It's really not our fault. It's God's.

Or biology's. Depends on whether you're from Kansas. Or whether you're Catholic...

5/12/07

Nuts Who Are About to Crack

E called me on the phone after my mom picked him up from his dad's this afternoon in our old hometown, T. They're going to stay there till tomorrow, seeing as how I'm currently trying to see how much studying I can cram into my brain before Monday and the Physiology final (went almost 12 hours today, it was amazing...And exhausting...). Anyway, so E called me and was chatting away about what his dad got him for his birthday. I was like, yes, yes, I know, your birthday was totally 2 weeks ago and you already gave me this list, I know your presents were fantastic. Enough already...Ha, kidding. But seriously...Toward the end of the conversation, I asked him if he had gotten me a Mother's Day present (which, I need one. And he likes to give me gifts. Although usually they come in the form of pretend food made from bathwater and soap bubbles...). He said "No..." in a worried tone of voice, so I laughingly reassured him that Nanay would help him pick something out. He apparently rejected that thought, though, because the next thing I heard was him speaking to my mom: "Nanay, I need to buy my mom a present. I think she wants a nutcracker."

(I have to explain: E has a rather peculiar obsession with nutcrackers, and he always has, from the time he was very small. He actually has 3 or 4 now, as I've been buying cool specimens (pirate nutcracker, knight nutcracker, prince nutcracker) since he was a tiny baby. Last Christmas, his favorite movie was "The Nutcracker Ballet" (the version with Macaulay Culkin, actually). In addition, he likes to pretend that HE'S a nutcracker, and he'll put on "nutcracker makeup", go as stiff and expressionless as a board, and open/close his mouth if you "pull" on an imaginary handle on his back. The kid has an imagination like someone on hallucinogens...)


Anyway, so he then returned to his conversation with me: "Mom, do you want a nutcracker?" I said "Sure, honey, I'll love whatever you give me." He then asked "Well, would you like a small one or a big one?" I reiterated "Just pick something out." E: "Ok, you want a big one."

Looks like a big nutcracker is in my future.

I wish I didn't have to work so hard at this whole med school thing (which, ok, I kinda knew what I was getting myself into...doesn't mean I have to like it any more). It feels like I get up, take him to "daycare" (aka Nanay and Poppa's house), go to school or to study, get home in time for dinner, and then it's bedtime. I hate that feeling. It's not really as bad as that, and I have the weekends, but it's still not like being a SAHM would be. Non-moms really don't understand the conflicts that pull us, do they? Anyway, I miss being able to spend my free time with E.

Scratch that. I just miss free time. Period.

5/11/07

Semantics

I really don't have the time for blogging right now, but to boost the number of "May" Posts over there in the nifty right-hand column, I suppose I should post something, huh?

Finals start Monday, which is why I've been in absentia for so long. Poor E has been suffering through day-long fun times with Nanay and Poppa. I'm sure he misses me tons. NOT. They get to do fun stuff like go to the zoo and go see "Meet the Robinsons" and play at the playground, while I sit in the bookstore and study. I'm so jealous.

Random story ahead:
My dad bought one of those "SLOW! Children playing" signs to use at their house when they're playing with E outside. I think he bought it more for the reason that he likes to pretend it's "slow children" instead of "slow, children", rather than for any belief in its inherent safety value. On the way to drop E off at my parents' house one morning, E said "Mom, Poppa bought me a sign that says 'Children playing slow.'" I said, "I know, he told me." E: "Well, I don't want it to say 'Children playing slow'! I want it to say 'Children playing fast'!"

5/1/07

Four...

...always seemed so grown-up. Like, waaaaay older than three. Right up there with five, in fact. Babies at three are now "children" at four. I mean, pre-K is an option, people, they're practically teenagers, right? RIGHT?!

And yet, on the 27th, the day He turned four, he announced from the backseat: "Mom, I can't undo my seat belt anymore, because I'm four now."

Apparently, he considers himself to be either a) regressing or b) gaining a handservant to do all of his daily tasks for him.

Maybe the teenager comment was more apt than I thought.
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