- Desire :: Passion
- Sleep :: To Dream
- Lost :: TV Series
- 2006 :: Current Year
- Pump :: Up The Volume
- Space :: Balls
- Stuck :: Gum On Your Shoe
- Reference:: Citation
- Birth:: The Beginning
- Hand:: Over Fist
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Unconscious Mutterings
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Up To My Eyeballs
The Drama Queen is at her best this afternoon. First her hair is bothering her. Then she has a runny nose that is bothering her. Then, heaven forbid, Mommy gave her the WRONG spoon to eat her yogurt with. Then the cold yogurt made her mouth feel too hot for her liking and she wanted her mouth instantly as cold as her yogurt. Then she decided the seat buckle was just unbearable and it had to go. Then she wanted her toenails painted. Then. Then. Then.
And the little angel in the house has decided that she isn't happy about me being busy with the creation of a new marinade recipe I came across. So, I've got an infant that's fussy as well.
Oh wait. What's that sound? ........ silence. Amazing.
Back to making my marinade! I'll let you know how it turns out.
Happy April Fool's Day!
Don't forget today is a day of pranks... don't be a sucker!
I'm writing this post to remind me of that - I'm sure my husband will try to pull something over on me.
Maybe I should tell him I'm pregnant... /snicker
(I'm not though... let that be known!)
I'm writing this post to remind me of that - I'm sure my husband will try to pull something over on me.
Maybe I should tell him I'm pregnant... /snicker
(I'm not though... let that be known!)
Where I'm At
My youngest munchkin is just the happiest baby ever. I feel so lucky. And my oldest munchkin is cuter than ever and so darn sassy and spunky that even though at times she drives me up a wall it's hard to keep my cranky disposition.
I love being a Mom... absolutely love it. I think most of the time I'm a good wife. I take decent care of myself... or at least try to. But in all honesty, I feel like something is missing. I can't pinpoint what it is. It's a feeling like I missed a bus and I don't have a schedule to know when the bus is coming back around or where that darned buss was headed to. Like I'm supposed to be doing something, somewhere, but the memo that explained the details didn't make it into my box.
I've been feeling old lately. And I know old is all in the mindset of a person. Maybe it's because I feel so strapped down with tending two young children. It's a luxury being able to have children to nurture and take care of - a real luxury and I know I'm blessed. So I don't really know what my fuss is all about... it's like I want freedom to do things, but the moment I'm away from my kids when I do have that opportunity, I miss the heck out of them. And then the only thing I want is to be back with them.
So I'm not sure my fuss is really about that.
I rarely spend time with my husband as it is... him with work and then all the tending of children. We're not around each other long enough get on each other's nerves, with the exception of a good clear-the-air tiff every now and again. The Irish in me enjoys a good argument sometimes... keeps things healthy. And through a lot of questioning and observations, I see this is how most married couples are... busy with their own things and gathering some quality time when they can on occassion.
It's not really a feeling that I need to change anything in my existing life in the sense of taking or replacing what I've got... it's more of a feeling like I need to add something to what's already in place.
Where we lived before, I would see a lot of people daily. I'd spend hours a day out walking with my daughter. We knew a lot of people on a chit chat basis and we really enjoyed yammering. It was convenient to meet up with friends. We lived in a great location for that. I could listen to people's stories and offer my feedback.
Where we're living now, there's really nothing of greatness to walk to. Aside from the new Starbucks and grocery store not too far away. The neighborhood is very new, so even the trees and shrubs... the landscaping... is all small with much developing to do. There's no historic buildings. There's far too many housing developments that are cookie cutters. All looking the same crammed side by side.
But the weather here is amazing. Or at least it usually is. Lately it's been a rainy, wet, and cold mess. Maybe this is just the result of feeling so couped up. The result of being bound to a car if I want to really go anywhere. Bound to having to make plans to do anything instead of just doing whatever when it hits me.
Anyways... that's where I'm at.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Thursday, March 30, 2006
I Forgot To Mention
Yesterday at dance class, when my munchkin was wearing ballet shoes and she was supposed to be wearing the required tap shoes, I completely forgot to mention the most comical thing she did...
It was as if she knew she was supposed to be wearing different shoes and it took all my strength not to burst out laughing, because I'm pretty sure if the instructor noticed what I'm about to tell you... it undoubtedly irritated her to no end.
At the beginning of the class they march around in their tap shoes making lots of noise and they get to rummage through two bins that are full of tambourines and moroccas. As soon as my daughter tired of her prized purple moroccas, she sought out two of the smaller tambourines from the bins.
Instead of rattling them about, she laid them flat on the floor and slid her foot into each one and slid around as if they were musical slippers. If I had had my camera with me I would have taken a picture. It was so hillarious... but I kept my composure and quickly took them off her feet before she caused any more wrinkles in what's supposed to be a strict and regimented routine.
Tambourine feet... my sweet girl is out of her mind just like her mommy!
It was as if she knew she was supposed to be wearing different shoes and it took all my strength not to burst out laughing, because I'm pretty sure if the instructor noticed what I'm about to tell you... it undoubtedly irritated her to no end.
At the beginning of the class they march around in their tap shoes making lots of noise and they get to rummage through two bins that are full of tambourines and moroccas. As soon as my daughter tired of her prized purple moroccas, she sought out two of the smaller tambourines from the bins.
Instead of rattling them about, she laid them flat on the floor and slid her foot into each one and slid around as if they were musical slippers. If I had had my camera with me I would have taken a picture. It was so hillarious... but I kept my composure and quickly took them off her feet before she caused any more wrinkles in what's supposed to be a strict and regimented routine.
Tambourine feet... my sweet girl is out of her mind just like her mommy!
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Wrong Kid and Crack
Since it's Wednesday that means for an hour in the evening we, as a family, go to dance class for the eldest munchkin. Half of the hour is spent doing tap dance, and half is spent doing ballet... or baan-dough as my daughter says.
The tap shoes have been a real issue. This ~dance studio~ is hyper sensative about dress codes and rules and yadda yadda yadda blah blah blah. From my perspective, we're talking about two year olds here... so I feel they can take their strict, knotted panty routines and throw them out the window.
But anyways, the tap shoes... Week before last we noticed that the tap shoes my daughter had really overly emphasized her walking inward on her ankles. It looks a bit like what someone who doesn't know how to ice skate looks like when they are first out on the ice and their skates are tied loosely. Naturally this concerned us and we returned the shoes. The other style that the store offered, doesn't come in a size small enough for my little one. I called several other places to try on shoes, and no one carries them small enough. Unless it's the one kind we already tried and like I said, we know those don't work.
The inward walking on her ankles is normal for her age, I'll spare you the long explanation... talked with an Orthopedist about it. He recommended that unless I could find tap shoes that didn't emphasize the inward walking and that were also comfortable enough for her to wear around... that I should leave her in her ballet shoes for the duration of the hour. Besides, what harm could be done with wearing ballet shoes instead of tap shoes? Wouldn't that actually be a blessing? One less toddler stomping around loudly.
So last week came and went with nothing said about the hour long ballet shoe wearing.
This week I was met with, "What??? No tap shoes yet???" by the dance instructor.
"Well, no. And she'll be wearing ballet shoes for the whole time. (insert Orthopedist explanation) And I tried finding more options for her to try on, but no one carries them in her size."
The woman and I really don't get along for some reason. I'm not sure why. I get along easily with most people.
"Well, what about the recital? She has to have tap shoes for that..."
"She's not in the recital."
"Oh. Ok. Well, it's just for thirty minutes...more like twenty minutes... she'd only be wearing the tap shoes for that long."
I don't know about you, but I think I'd listen to an MD over a dance instructor when it comes to the bone structure and developmental health of my child.
"Next year when she's older, and the shoes fit her better, I'm sure this won't be an issue."
"You need to keep in mind that with her wearing ballet shoes she won't be learning the steps properly for tap."
"She's two..." I say, "I think she'll be okay..."
"You can just stuff tissue in the toe of the shoe..."
"Uh, length isn't the problem here. It's the caved in ankles... the inward walking... you know, her walking on her ankles..."
"You MIGHT want to just think about it..." and she gave me that grimmace and bitchy laughter to point out how aghast she was at what she took as ridiculous behavior on my part.
"It is something to think about, but like YOU pointed out... it is only twenty minutes... I do think she'll be fine in ballet shoes."
And dance class began.
The kids were just off key today. It's strange how that happens. Some days everyone is just fine as fine can be and then other days, there's at least a couple that cry nonstop and that snowballs several others into crying... My daughter finally joined in with twenty minutes left to go.. the ballet portion mind you... the portion of class where she was actually wearing the PROPER shoes.
I don't have the energy to type out how obnoxiously the instructor handled one situation with a crying child... just that I think she made things worse.
With about twelve minutes left of class, my daughter was crying for ~Daddy~ and for her little sister and absolutely refused to stay inside the dance class room. So we left...
I picked her up and with my frazzled brain, actually sat her in the baby carrier and started to try strapping her in.
My husband responds with laughter, "What ARE you doing??"
Pulling my senses back to coherency, "Oh right! Wrong Kid!"
As I'm switching children, the man sitting next to us finally couldn't contain his laughter any longer and let it go free...
I'm a walking comedy show, I swear.
And then my husband goes on to tell me how watching my butt in the mirrors of the dance class was a really nice change up from the bouncing, big, black spandex butt of the instructor...
..and how all the guys straightened up every time I bent over because my low rise pants showed promise of delivering a little peek of my crack...
He's so fully of it! Honestly...
And then he goes on to say, "Oh yeah, I even saw a woman straighten up thinking she was going to get to see some crack..."
At this point I had to laugh and I know he was just trying to bring a stressful hour back down to pure humor. But still, I'd rather talking about the big spandex butt of the instructor instead of the hopes and dreams of a crack peek from the dance crowd.
My husband agreed that dinner out sounded like a better way to spend the last minutes of dance class...
"Yeah, let's go spend money on something I actually ENJOY!" he said.
And with that, we ordered two beers upon arrival and watched our little ballerina dance freestyle from within the confines of her highchair... and without her tap shoes even.
The tap shoes have been a real issue. This ~dance studio~ is hyper sensative about dress codes and rules and yadda yadda yadda blah blah blah. From my perspective, we're talking about two year olds here... so I feel they can take their strict, knotted panty routines and throw them out the window.
But anyways, the tap shoes... Week before last we noticed that the tap shoes my daughter had really overly emphasized her walking inward on her ankles. It looks a bit like what someone who doesn't know how to ice skate looks like when they are first out on the ice and their skates are tied loosely. Naturally this concerned us and we returned the shoes. The other style that the store offered, doesn't come in a size small enough for my little one. I called several other places to try on shoes, and no one carries them small enough. Unless it's the one kind we already tried and like I said, we know those don't work.
The inward walking on her ankles is normal for her age, I'll spare you the long explanation... talked with an Orthopedist about it. He recommended that unless I could find tap shoes that didn't emphasize the inward walking and that were also comfortable enough for her to wear around... that I should leave her in her ballet shoes for the duration of the hour. Besides, what harm could be done with wearing ballet shoes instead of tap shoes? Wouldn't that actually be a blessing? One less toddler stomping around loudly.
So last week came and went with nothing said about the hour long ballet shoe wearing.
This week I was met with, "What??? No tap shoes yet???" by the dance instructor.
"Well, no. And she'll be wearing ballet shoes for the whole time. (insert Orthopedist explanation) And I tried finding more options for her to try on, but no one carries them in her size."
The woman and I really don't get along for some reason. I'm not sure why. I get along easily with most people.
"Well, what about the recital? She has to have tap shoes for that..."
"She's not in the recital."
"Oh. Ok. Well, it's just for thirty minutes...more like twenty minutes... she'd only be wearing the tap shoes for that long."
I don't know about you, but I think I'd listen to an MD over a dance instructor when it comes to the bone structure and developmental health of my child.
"Next year when she's older, and the shoes fit her better, I'm sure this won't be an issue."
"You need to keep in mind that with her wearing ballet shoes she won't be learning the steps properly for tap."
"She's two..." I say, "I think she'll be okay..."
"You can just stuff tissue in the toe of the shoe..."
"Uh, length isn't the problem here. It's the caved in ankles... the inward walking... you know, her walking on her ankles..."
"You MIGHT want to just think about it..." and she gave me that grimmace and bitchy laughter to point out how aghast she was at what she took as ridiculous behavior on my part.
"It is something to think about, but like YOU pointed out... it is only twenty minutes... I do think she'll be fine in ballet shoes."
And dance class began.
The kids were just off key today. It's strange how that happens. Some days everyone is just fine as fine can be and then other days, there's at least a couple that cry nonstop and that snowballs several others into crying... My daughter finally joined in with twenty minutes left to go.. the ballet portion mind you... the portion of class where she was actually wearing the PROPER shoes.
I don't have the energy to type out how obnoxiously the instructor handled one situation with a crying child... just that I think she made things worse.
With about twelve minutes left of class, my daughter was crying for ~Daddy~ and for her little sister and absolutely refused to stay inside the dance class room. So we left...
I picked her up and with my frazzled brain, actually sat her in the baby carrier and started to try strapping her in.
My husband responds with laughter, "What ARE you doing??"
Pulling my senses back to coherency, "Oh right! Wrong Kid!"
As I'm switching children, the man sitting next to us finally couldn't contain his laughter any longer and let it go free...
I'm a walking comedy show, I swear.
And then my husband goes on to tell me how watching my butt in the mirrors of the dance class was a really nice change up from the bouncing, big, black spandex butt of the instructor...
..and how all the guys straightened up every time I bent over because my low rise pants showed promise of delivering a little peek of my crack...
He's so fully of it! Honestly...
And then he goes on to say, "Oh yeah, I even saw a woman straighten up thinking she was going to get to see some crack..."
At this point I had to laugh and I know he was just trying to bring a stressful hour back down to pure humor. But still, I'd rather talking about the big spandex butt of the instructor instead of the hopes and dreams of a crack peek from the dance crowd.
My husband agreed that dinner out sounded like a better way to spend the last minutes of dance class...
"Yeah, let's go spend money on something I actually ENJOY!" he said.
And with that, we ordered two beers upon arrival and watched our little ballerina dance freestyle from within the confines of her highchair... and without her tap shoes even.
Let It Be Known...
The word
means
It's taken me DAYS to figure that out and it was driving everyone just short of straight-jacket crazy!
Baan - Dough
means
Ballet
It's taken me DAYS to figure that out and it was driving everyone just short of straight-jacket crazy!
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