Showing posts from March, 2013


Now that we're over the trauma of the kid knowing about the Easter Bunny, Santa, and the Tooth Fairy, we proceeded with Easter as usual.  We dyed eggs, attended an egg hunt at a nursing home in our neighborhood, and went to church. This morning, our daughter scoured the house for hidden eggs, just like always, and got too much candy . . . just like always. As sad as I am that some of her innocence has been lost, I have to confess that her new-found knowledge does make life a little easier. I was forever forgetting whether I bought her a particular item or if it had come from Santa. Now I don't have to worry about it. I taught Sunday school at church this morning. Since we are UU's, we typically have a slightly different take on Easter. I talked with the children about Jesus and the resurrection but also about Spring and the promise of new life. To celebrate that, I gave the kids a little seed-planting project and sent them home with their own cup o'dirt. They may or m

You had a good run, Mr. C

Three-year-old A, at Christmastime "Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. " The worst part of parenting? Breaking bad news to your child.  Last night, P was working so the kid and I headed to my gym. She likes playing in the play area. The owner of the gym gives her gummy bears, so there's that, too. When I was done sweating, she and I climbed into my mom-mobile and headed home. I needed gas, so I stopped along the way. "Do you want a snack?" I asked her.  She held out her hand for some cash.  In recent months, I've been letting her go into the gas station to get herself a snack. I figure this little exercise has two benefits: 1. She learns a little bit of independence by goin

I'll tell you where you can put your health assessment

 You may recall that I: Have been stressed about a health assessment that my husband's employer required me to complete. Our medical insurance is through his work and apparently they've devised new and clever ways to make us miserable in the future if we fail to complete our individual health assessments. Have been re-thinking my diet a bit, based on some recommendations from a trainer/vegan friend of mine. First, the health assessment. I did it (at 7:30 this morning) and I hated it. I had to fast for 12 hours and since breakfast is my favorite meal, I was feeling pretty surly by the time I got to the clinic for my appointment. Anyway, I got to the clinic on time and then had to cool my heels in the waiting room for 30 minutes. Finally, a nurse-type person called my name. I say nurse-type person because there were some letters after her name (on her nametag) but they didn't mean anything to me. She weighed me and measured my height.  Then she brought me into an exam


"Mom, we'll always be together, right?" I've been hearing this question from my daughter quite a bit in recent weeks. "We'll never be apart," she tells me, and then throws her arms around my neck and squeezes with all her might.  I have assured her that when she is 18, she will be so desperate to get away from me and my tyrannical reign that she will probably select a college in Alaska. That way, she can be assured that I won't show up at her dorm room with any regularity. But for now, she would like to be surgically attached if at all possible. Normal? Not normal? Heck if I know. Even though my daughter is nearly eight, I'm still a first-time mom and haven't traveled these roads before.  So, I have no idea if her recent need for extreme closeness is a phase or not (well, she's always had an extreme need for attention, but it seems more pronounced lately).  I also don't know if it's a "normal kid" thing or a "

The definition of insanity

They say that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results.  I've been doing that for far too long. Every Monday morning, I refocus on my diet.  I start out great.  I track everything I eat. Nearly everything I choose seems to fall under the category of "good for you" (lots of fruits and vegetables). By Thursday, my resolve starts to peter out.  I get home from work and find myself with a cookie in my hand. Or maybe five cookies - who's counting?  Not me, that's for sure. Then I decide I need a glass of wine while watching "Project Runway." By Friday, I'm seldom still tracking what I put in my mouth. Sometimes I go to Weight Watchers and sometimes I don't.  I did buy a 12-week planner, which has been helpful for looking at my food habits over a period of time. I continue to go to yoga twice a week and have been known to show up at my gym once or twice a week (I need to find a gym closer to m

Chicks' Weekend

I've just returned from a weekend away with some friends.  I learned a few things: Some people are willing to put chocolate-covered licorice in their mouth. We stopped at a candy store and that's what one of my friends bought (and consumed). It took me about thirty years to adjust to the idea of chocolate on pretzels, so maybe in time I will see the light on this combination as well. Wood-fired pizza kicks ass. For lunch yesterday we went to a tiny little restaurant that featured wood-fired pizza. One of my friends is vegan, and she was able to get an amazing pizza with Daiya (vegan) cheese. I had one with wild mushrooms. Good stuff. The movie "Get Him to the Greek" should have been funny, but isn't. We watched this movie in our suite at the resort where we stayed, and only one of us made it until the end without falling asleep.  Drinking out of one of these makes it really, really difficult to know how much vino you've consumed: . When your friend

Field Trip

I chaperoned a field trip at my daughter's school today.  It's been a while since I rode on a big yellow school bus. It was a little bit surreal. Either my hips are wider than they were a few decades ago, or all school buses have been re-engineered with extra-narrow aisles.  I'm going to assume it is the latter.  Also, it's amazing how easily one forgets how now noisy a bus full of kids can be. As the bus bounced (and I do mean bounced) down the highway to our destination, I wondered silently about just how much "lift and support" a lady should expect from her brassiere.  I also wondered why I had not brought any ibuprofen for the headache I expected to develop shortly.  My daughter was excited to have me along for the trip.  Earlier in the morning, as A brushed her teeth, I may have implied that I might just find myself overcome with the urge to square-dance in front of her friends. I was going to see if I could get a couple other moms involved in order

Date Night and Whatnot

We had a fairly quiet weekend.  The kid and I dug out our Easter decorations on Friday evening. It's hard to get too enthusiastic about Easter coming early this year. The egg hunts should be interesting, in as much as finding eggs in the snow can be a challenge. Buying a spring-y Easter dress seems pointless, but I'm sure Miss Thang will insist. On Saturday evening, P and I went to a fundraiser for a local no-kill sanctuary. It was a lot of fun. A was spending the night at a friend's house, so we didn't even have to hire a babysitter.  We dropped her off, went out to dinner, and then headed to the fundraiser (held at a local banquet hall). When we got there, I was browsing some silent auction items and noticed that a friend of mine had bid on an item. So, I outbid her. Just kidding!  I found her in the crowd a few minutes later.  She was there with a singles group that had sort of fizzled. Let me just say that I am glad not to be single. I have a few friends who

I'll let you know . . . if you suck

My daughter goes through phases where she asks a lot of questions about her adoption. Then we usually have a lull where she's more concerned with things like watching yodeling videos on YouTube (I am not making that up). Last week she dug out some of her adoption books ( The Red Thread , Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born , etc.) and read them, so I figured a question was coming. "Mom, were you friends with J [her birthmom] before you adopted me?  Did you know her before that?" "No," I said. "We met her through the adoption agency." She nodded.  "Oh, okay."  Silence for a few moments.  "And she picked you and Daddy because she thought you would be good parents for me?" "Yes, I think so," I responded.  "I assume she chose us because she thought we'd be good parents.  Was she right?" My daughter started to walk out of the room and then turned to look back at me over her shoulder.  "I

Call if you think I'm cute

I just downloaded some photos from my camera. I am selling some schtuff on eBay and needed to take pictures. In any case, I quickly noticed that someone else had been using my camera. First, she shifted the dial to video mode and took a video of her face. "Call now if you think I'm cute," she tells the camera. I'd upload that but she also uses her full name and you might be a serial killer. Then, she shifted back to normal photo mode and took this photo of her face. Then, she took a photo of her dog, Gretchen: I think that's "Good Luck, Charlie" playing on the TV in the background. It's one of the few shows A watches that I find fairly watchable. Don't even get me started on "Austin and Ally" and some of the other shows that pass for entertainment on the Disney Channel.   The kid and I spent a lot of time together this weekend because her dad was out of town at a guys' weekend.  I don't know what happens on t

Sore loser

How does one teach a child to be a graceful loser?  I am clearly failing at it, as evidenced by the fact that my daughter bursts into tears and has a dramatic meltdown any time she loses a game. This morning I went to her school to participate in a "Math and Muffins" event.  Parents gathered in the gym and then headed into the classrooms to sit with their child(ren). One of A's friends didn't have a parent present, so we invited her to join us.  We had a deck of playing cards and some instructions for playing a couple of simple addition and subtraction games.  Since the games were mostly intended for two people, I let A and her friend play. I dealt the cards and then watched them playing the math games. You and I both know I was really just there for the muffin.  However, it turned out to be a mini muffin, which was tragic. Things seemed to be going pretty well until my daughter lost two games in a row. She blamed her friend, alleging that her friend had made up