Posted by Kimberly on September 28th, 2008 — Posted in Kipple, Blah Blah Blog
Crap.
Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. CRAP.
In case you hadn’t noticed, things are NOT going as planned….
There have been some technical difficulties around here. I HAVE posted. Honest. But apparently my writing has been eaten by wordpress. And I didn’t know it because well, I only look at THIS screen when I’m blogging, and not the blog itself. If not for the comments (which I’ve mostly just fished out of spam), I never would have known. So, to everyone who didn’t give up on me, I’m sorry. And THANK YOU.
Now that I know about it, I’m on the problem. Well, I’m not on it. I don’t even understand it. But other people do. And they’re fixing it. And as soon as we figure out where the lost entries are, they’ll be up. Pinky swear.
Crap.
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Posted by Kimberly on August 19th, 2008 — Posted in Zen Baby, Kipple, No Pudding Until You Finish Your Meat
It has come to my attention that I am a terrible, negligent mother.
I’ve always thought that I was a pretty good mom. Certainly no SuperMommy, but definitely in the “Good enough” column. Most days, anyway.
And then the Zen Baby, who is really much more accurately a Zen Big Girl these days, sat on my lap and asked me to do “the Pizza Song” with her.
You might be wondering what, exactly, is “The Pizza Song” ? I know I was.
Turns out, “The Pizza Song” is “the one with the clapping. You know….where you “make the thing in the oven.”
Ah.
Yes.
My four year old daughter, who has an impressive Broadway repertoire ranging from Hairspray and Rent to Wicked, does not know the words to “Patty Cake.”
Oh yeah, she’s going to kill in Kindergarten…..
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Posted by Kimberly on July 18th, 2008 — Posted in The Ladies, Kipple
Really, it’s not that bad. (Except when it is). Most of our days have included long stints at the pool for both lessons and splashing around. There have been playdates, a sleepover, and Regan even made a friend of her very own! But there has also been a lot of whining. A LOT. From all sides (even mine). And not nearly enough sleep–for any of us.
I know it’s selfish and self-indulgent to complain that the four year old is giving up her nap. I get that that is a luxury the likes of which many parents have never known. I even understand that this is probably a good thing, what with kindergarten looming. But….It still sucks. Watching my sweet, easy going Zen Baby turn into Linda Blair every afternoon is just really not how I’d envisioned spending this summer and it’s getting tiresome cleaning all that pea soup off of the walls.
Of course, I might be better prepared to deal with the daily headspinning if not for the nightly go round with Diva Girl…What on earth possessed me to give a lifelong insomniac a medication that lists sleeplessness as its major side effect? Oh, right, that whole “it helps her have a much improved quality of life” thing. And it does. When she sleeps. Which hasn’t been nearly enough since we threw the concept of “routine” to the winds and embraced the chaos that is Summer Vacation.
And that is the crux of the issue right there, that pull between routine and ….whatever the opposite of routine is; which, around here, is looking more and more like chaos every day…..
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Posted by Kimberly on July 11th, 2008 — Posted in The Ladies, Kipple, Blah Blah Blog
Between the last day of school concussion (Diva Girl’s), the migraine that will not end (mine), and the fifteenth napless day in a row (Zen Baby’s), the start of summer vacation this year has felt decidedly unvacationy. Unless your preferred vacation spot is the Fourth Circle Of Hell.
In which case, we’re having a fabulous time! Wish you were here!
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Posted by Kimberly on June 25th, 2008 — Posted in Diva Girl, Kipple, No Pudding Until You Finish Your Meat
There she is, my newly minted fifth grader. A far cry from the nervous little girl who stood on the school steps last September, isn’t she?
It’s been a long year for my Diva Girl. Between the adjustment issues that come with changing schools to the sliding grades and finally the diagnosis, it’s been quite a ride on that big yellow bus. But you wouldn’t know it from that picture, would you? That is one happy little girl, thrilled not only with the vast expanse of summer that lies ahead of her, but also with the long stretch of Grade 4 that is now behind her.
And that’s really my goal at this point in the year–to have a child who is proud of what she has accomplished, and who is looking forward to the opportunities and excitement ahead. The report card, for me, is pretty much just a bonus at this point.
Oh what a bonus it was, though!
If ever I needed confirmation that putting Diva Girl on Concerta was the right thing to do, this report card is it. The Cs? A pale memory. In some cases, she went up more than a full letter grade from last term. But even that pales in comparison to the fact that for the first time this year, she didn’t get “Ns” in conflict resolution, co-operation, or problem solving! Which still wasn’t the best part. No…The best part was the final comment:
Sabrina approaches new learning situations with confidnece, and she effectively synthesizes information from all subject areas. Sabrina has demonstrated improvement in her independent work skills, requiring less teacher support during independent work periods Sabrina willingly works with others in class, and is willing to resolve conflicts when they occur. She is doing her class work with more care and attention to detail. Best wishes for success in Grade 5!
That right there is everything I’d hoped for when I first sought the referral to Dr. G. That right there is the Diva Girl I always knew was there, just waiting for the opportunity to shine. That right there is why I know that Grade 5 is going to be everything Sabrina’s smile promises it will be.
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Posted by Kimberly on June 24th, 2008 — Posted in Zen Baby, No Pudding Until You Finish Your Meat
Between getting back into the swing of things at work and starting to get a handle on Diva Girl’s issues, I’ve been letting some things slide around here. Like…um….Kindergarten registration. Which was technically back in February.
Why yes, I have been putting off registering my youngest child for school for the past four months. Is that problematic, do you think?
I didn’t do it on purpose. There was no active plan to avoid the whole thing. It just never really felt like a priority is all. Even when Sabrina came home with a message from the Principal telling me I should “just come on down and sign her up,” it was always something that could happen another day; it didn’t have to be today.
Except today, it kinda did. What with it being the second to last day of school and all. Suddenly, getting the Zen Baby’s papers in order seemed a whole lot more important than it had yesterday.
Unfortunately, the urgency did nothing to lessen the trauma of the event.
My baby is going to kindergarten!!!!!
Ok, sure it’s still 69 days away. But still, MY BABY IS GOING TO KINDERGARTEN.
I know, I know. She’s not the first baby to be headed off to school. But she is my last baby to head off. And somehow, the fact that she’s a full year older than her sister was the first time we packed her Barbie backpack with her brand new pointy crayons and filled her Disney Princess lunchbox with nutritious snacks and headed off to meet her teacher isn’t really making it any easier to accept that my baby is going to school.
Regan is over moon at the idea of finally following her big sister onto the bus. She has been dancing all day, constantly reminding us that after this summer vacation, she gets to go back to school too. No fear or uncertainty here. The Zen Baby is good to go.
Which thrills me, truly. After all, this is the child I used to describe as “painfully shy.” Who had me googling “selective mutism” before she finally started to speak again post tumour. This is the child whose inability to deal with the world at large–and especially all the people in it–made is necessary for me to take an entire year off of work to help her work that out. This is the little girl who literally lived beside my right leg. Even now, I look down, expecting her to be there, right beside me. But she’s not anymore. Now, rather than cringing in fear beside me, or watching from the safety of Mama’s Personal Bubble, she is racing away from me to join in the fray. And nothing quite brings that home like realizing that not only is my baby going to kindergarten, she’s ready for it.
But she’s my baby. And she’s going to kindergarten. And as happy as I am for her, as thrilled as I am that she is not only going to be able to do this, she’s going to rock the socks off of it, I’m allowed to be a little bit sad. Because she’s my baby. And she’s going to kindergarten.
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Posted by Kimberly on June 22nd, 2008 — Posted in The Ladies, Diva Girl, Kipple, Zen Baby, No Pudding Until You Finish Your Meat
What do you when you want to eat the children? Turn them into cotton candy confections, of course!
I’ve had some Hannah Montana Hair Colour Sticks tucked away for a while now. When I bought them, I thought that it would be a fun First Day of Summer Vacation project to (temporarily and with a product guaranteed to wash right out) dye The Ladies’ hair funky colours. Last night, as I was contemplating eating my own young, my gaze fell on these stick and I thought, “why not.”
Yes, I was still Very. Angry. with Diva Girl. Forget ebay, I would have happily PAID to have her tweenilcious self taken off my hands. But seething anger and resentment wasn’t really getting either of us anywhere, and I didn’t really see that ending soon without one of us making some sort of grand gesture to end the hostilities. And I think we all know that it wasn’t going to be her; even if she had, if we’re being honest here, it’s not like I was in any mood to accept any sort of peace offering anyway. So, it was up to me to make the move and pull us all out of the pit into which we’d descended over the course of one spectacularly crappy day.
One would think that showering a child whose staggering sense of entitlement and lack of gratitude had caused many of the day’s conflicts would be counterintuitive, but it seemed to work. United in our common project, the stresses, slights, and slurs of the day fell away. She remembered that in addition to being the Meanest. Mom. Ever. I can also be the most fun and I remember that in addition to being a raging brat, my oldest daughter is also funny, fun, and kind of cool.
Regan was just happy that the yelling stopped. The pretty colours in her hair were just gravy, so far as she was concerned.
So yeah, no regrets over either giving one more gift to a child who didn’t seem able to appreciate what she already had, or about turning my children into something more likely to be found in a circus tent than a schoolroom Not even when Diva Girl reminded me that her class will be presenting the end of school mass on Tuesday. At which she’s doing the reading.
Because could there be a more literal representation of the direction “Be joyful in hope” than these two? What’s more joyful than being allowed to dye your hair hot pink and electric blue three days before school ends? And what’s more hopeful than the mother who allows it?
8 Comments »
Posted by Kimberly on June 21st, 2008 — Posted in Kipple
You wanna know the really, truly crappy thing about being a solo parent? The thing that pretty much encapsulates all the suckitude of being the only adult in the family?
Being the only adult in the family. Always having to be the grownup, no matter how much you don’t want to be.
I don’t mean having to wait on your ice cream being the grown up. I mean always having to step up even when you just want to step off, never having anyone to back you up no matter hard you about to fall being the grown up.
Diva Girl is outdoing herself today and frankly, right now, the last thing I really want to do is be her mother. The actual litany of offenses doesn’t really matter, aside from the fact that she’s finally hit the wall of rude and defiant tween behaviour and I. Am. DONE. I do not want to stop and think about why she is being an ungrateful little snot and I certainly don’t want to sit and reason with her about it in a calm and rational manner. What I really want to do is to walk away. To take five to get myself back under control before I address her rage. I want to be able to go for a walk, clear my head, and come back refreshed and able to deal with this in a calm and rational manner.
Instead, I’m trapped here, dealing with her rage and resentment on top of my own.
The last thing I want to do right now is help Sabrina to calm down. I do not WANT to put aside my resentment. I am, after all, the wronged party here. I am the one who deserves the righteous indignation, the slamming doors, the sulking and the sucking up. But I’m it. I’m all there is. I am the only one here to diffuse the situation, to make things right and put our little storm tossed family back on an even keel.
So instead of blowing off my anger with a half hour in the tub or a walk around the block, I have to be the one who talks about it. Who cuddles the kid and talks us all off the ledge. Because no matter how childish I am feeling, I am the only grown up here; sometimes, I just don’t feel like I’m enough. And that is the really, truly crappy part of being a solo parent.
7 Comments »
Posted by Kimberly on June 20th, 2008 — Posted in Diva Girl
I decided after last night’s epic meltdown–the kind of tantrum where when you give in and do what the kid wants she gets more out of control–to change Diva Girl’s dosing schedule in an attempt to avoid the twelfth hour crash we’re currently experiencing. I have been giving her the pill between 7:30-8:00 so that it has time to both kick in before school and wear off before bed, but clearly that’s not working out so well on the homefront. Or maybe a little too well. I don’t know. I just know that I’m not prepared to deal with a toddler in nine year old clothing much longer.
I figured since the meds are quite obviously wearing off after almost exactly 12 hours, I would push back the time I give them, thereby getting more at home benefit: If I gave them at 8:30 instead of 7:30, we’d only have a half hour of unmedicated time to deal with, versus the hour and a half of holding on by our fingernails (or not) that we’re doing now.
So, today was to be the dawn of a whole new era in calm. Diva Girl would have the tools to be her charming, funny, in control self, I would be relaxed and easy going with the tantrum alert level reduced to a pale yellow, and everyone would join hands, sing kumbaya, and get to bed on time with no whining.
Things were on track for that, too. I reached for the pill bottle at 7:30, just like usual, and then remembered my new resolve and put it back to wait another hour. And then I forgot about it.
Yep. You heard me. Instead of giving Diva Girl her meds an hour later, I just didn’t give them to her at all. Which, I suppose alleviates the whole crash issue, if not exactly in the way I’d planned. Good thing she doesn’t have any tests today. Or oral reports to do.
Yeah, as an ADHD mom, clearly I RULE.
1 Comment »
Posted by Kimberly on June 19th, 2008 — Posted in Kipple, Blah Blah Blog
Some of you out there in the blogosphere might have noticed a bit of love bombing going on in your comments sections. About that…..
One of the worst things about The Darkness of this past season has been that in addition to barely writing my own blog, I pretty much stopped reading all of yours.
I’m sorry.
It wasn’t intentional, and it wasn’t because I didn’t care about what was going on in your lives anymore and wasn’t moved by the ways you tell your stories. It just sort of happened.
One day I didn’t open my Bloglines. And then I didn’t open it the next day, either. And then a week had gone by. Then a month. And then it all got so overwhelming what with the missed posts and the not commenting and it just seemed easier to avoid the situation altogether, so I just sort of started avoiding the Bloglines.
Does anyone remember the picture book The Story About Ping, by Marjorie Flack?
Ping was a duck on a Chinese fishing boat. Every day the ducks would be let off the boat, and at the end of the day when they returned, the last duck up the ramp got a spank. One day, Ping is the last duck. But he doesn’t want the spank. So instead, he hides. Rather than face his fear, Ping simply abandons the situation.
Ping was one of the two book I wore out when I was in Kindergarten. I took it out every time I found it in the library. Rare was the week that I did not have Ping tucked into my bookbag. I really, really identified with Ping. Something about the way that little duck ran away from all he knew and loved in order to avoid embarrassment spoke to me back then and, if I’m being honest, still speaks to me today.
Which is a roundabout way of explaining how I have avoided my bloglines for the past six months and now, as a result, am faced with 1387 unread posts.
At first I figured I’d just delete them all. Start fresh. Brand new day with a clean slate. Then I thought, just one post–but I won’t comment. Which lead to just the first page, and maybe one comment. And now? Well, now I’m making my way through the backlog and leaving comments all over. But you saw that coming, didn’t you?
So, if you notice me clogging up your inbox in the next week or so with comments on old posts, take pity on me and welcome me back into the fold–just like Ping.
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