The Queen's Rambles

Oh man. I am completely wiped out and tired of this week. Three is here with a vengeance and I’m ready for things to steady out. I need to go back and read my journal from when Erik was three to see what his major malfunction was. I think it was a lot of screaming and not cooperating.

Elsa’s major malfunction is taking everything so personally and crying uncontrollably over every real or perceived problem. Don’t you dare look at her. If she decides it hurts, she’ll cry so hard you’ll be looking for the bee that stung her.

We had 45 minutes of hysterical screaming because she didn’t want lemonade. Completely random. I don’t drink lemonade. She was not offered lemonade. She’s never been offered lemonade. She’s never HAD lemonade. We’ve never discussed lemonade. She was sitting on the floor, playing with toys. Suddenly she was screaming about not wanting lemonade.

Someone better grant me some patience, STAT. Mike is stressed out over work and working super late, which gives me almost no time to cook a proper dinner. Erik is having behavioral issues at school (talking, non-stop. Shocker). My house is a pigzaster, which I should be working on right now. I want to re-organize my kitchen, but first I need to sand down and paint a book shelf that someone gave me that is a key part of the plan. It is raining right now so I can’t start that project.

Woe is me, woe is me.

Life is not bad, it is just irksome. I need to break out a to-do list and calm myself down. I always forget how much that helps me focus.

I also need to stop with the afternoon socializing. That’s my cleaning time and I’m giving it up to go on playdates. I much rather socialize than scrub a toilet, but I guess there are times in this life when a toilet really needs to be scrubbed.

Also, I hate being a giant, fat cow. Eating chocolate all day to relieve the stress adds to my self-hatred. Looks like I could figure out that I need to stick to the damned diet, but I am a super cranky person when I’m dieting and am mean to my kids. Given the option of a slightly less fat, but grumpy mom or a fat, nice mom I am guessing they are going for nice. Now, just tell that to my damned pants. Maybe I could start by quitting the chocolate habit. I don’t want to hear one single hint, tip or weight loss crap. I know it is a problem with my own brain and I am my own worst enemy. I can’t seem to stop myself.

(I wrote this yesterday, sitting on my cabin’s deck while watching my kids go nuts on a jumping pillow. Pictures tomorrow if you’re lucky. TL:DR–go to Jellystone Park for a fun family vacation)

If you know me at all, you know I hate camping. You also know that I will do just about anything for my children. My son begs to go camping. . . . somehow I’m going camping.

Of course there is no way on god’s green earth that I’m going tent camping. Let’s not be ridiculous. I refuse to sleep on rocks and have a thin veil of fabric protecting me from all the ills of the world. How do campers get out of the experience alive? Or at least unbruised? I’m all about creature comforts.

Last year I scored us a deal on cabin camping at a state park. It was not awful but it was not exactly fun. There was nothing to do except camping type stuff. I didn’t think the nature was even all that pretty, but I’m from Oregon so I’m biased. The cabin didn’t have a bathroom or anything like that. It was just a couple of bunk beds and a couple of chairs. All cooking was done outdoors and the hike to the bathroom was about ¼ mile.

This year I found a deal for a place called Jellystone Park. I grew up on Yogi Bear so I got the joke, but didn’t really expect much. The deal was great so I just checked to make sure I could get a cabin with a bathroom and bought the deal—didn’t do much research at all.

Last night as we were driving here in the pouring rain, going about 100 miles on tiny little Virginia country roads I was cursing myself. Why were we going camping? Why were we going camping in the POURING RAIN? The weather had said scattered showers, not hours of intense downpours.
We got here at 10 pm and couldn’t see anything. We managed to get into our cabin, look around and see that it was pretty danged nice, and fall into bed. Elsa is my daredevil child and spent the whole night in the top bunk (it has rails). Erik won’t go up there for love or money.
This morning all was revealed! This is not a campground! It’s a family resort! I mean yes, it is a campground. You go can as primitive as tents or get a super deluxe cabin that goes well beyond ours (and we have a TV with a DVD player!).

There’s laser tag in the woods (bad idea on a wet day. Erik started off the day by getting a huge gash in his side), mini golf, a water slide, two pools, a splash park, two jumping pillows, arts and crafts, family kickball games, bingo and much more! Some of the things cost money (mining and certain crafts), but most of it is included.

Too bad it is freezing! We’ve been to the pools twice and it was miserable. The kids had a good time, but my legs were completely numb. Thankfully the kids couldn’t hold out long. Yogi, Boo Boo and Cindy (was she actually in the show?) have been hanging around various places. The kids have been having a great time. We’ve been having a great time. There’s not been a whole lot of nature to contend with, though we certainly could have went down some hiking trails or fished in the small lake (we chose paddle boating instead).

If you’re looking for a family friendly, low key family vacation I’d highly recommend Jellystone Park in Luray, VA. Cost varies greatly depending on your willingness to rough it. I found our deal on Certifikid or Groupon several months ago. I had no idea what I was getting us into!

*Did I ever tell you about Gwynnie Bee, the Netflix of clothing (sizes 10-26)? I got a trial subscription and it was really fun to get new clothes in the mail. Unfortunately very few items are appropriate for the life of a stay-at-home mom who spends hours on a playground so I cancelled my account. If I ever go back to work I would sign up. It’s really fun to get clothes without commitment. Too bad they were all cleavage baring.

*We had a really great playdate today! I am not really a fan of Elsa’s playgroup, but today only half the people showed up and we all clicked really well. We had a late lunch at Chick-Fil-A (I know, I know, I don’t go there, but I did today) and were the only people with kids in the play area. We let our four munchkins run and play for two hours while we sat outside the play area and talked. It was kind of amazing. I need more playdates like that.

*Elsa had her 3 year appointment yesterday. She is 37 inches tall and weighs 37 pounds. Though her BMI is high, the doctor was not at all concerned about her weight. She says she looks exactly like a 3 year old should–chubby with a little belly. I told her my plan and she agreed it sounded like a good one, but suggested I give her some protein every two hours to help with hunger pangs. She says she is not a fan of strict scheduling because children know when they are hungry and their hunger cues should be respected, but that it sounds like Elsa is getting into boredom eating.

*Elsa is completely in love with her little friend, Connor. It’s almost disturbing. She wants to wear red clothes because his favorite color is red. They cry for each other all the time. They both constantly pretend to talk on the phone to each other. If there is an event that one of the kids attends and the other doesn’t attend, the kid will not participate and will cry and cry for the other one. But then we get them together and they basically ignore each other. Kids are weird.

*I can’t find my ipod charger so I can’t go to the gym (unless I go to a class). I just ordered a new one so I hope I get it by Friday. I tried to put my music on my phone but even though I followed directions it doesn’t seem to be working. It’s making me grumpy. I don’t know how much data usage it would take to stream music on the phone, but maybe I can do that tomorrow. Isn’t the digital world supposed to be easier than this?

*I can’t quit watching the news out of Cleveland. I was enjoying Charles Ramsey’s interviews because he tells a great story, but I am not impressed that people are autotuning him and making him a joke. Yes, he is obviously not the most educated man around, but he is a hero. He deserves some respect, not being turned into a clown. I saw him on a news show earlier today and the poor guy looks completely haggard and beat down. He’s off his adrenaline high and exhausted after the whirlwind of everything that has happened. I hope people leave the poor man alone. I know we want to celebrate what he did–it is always nice to have a hero with some natural charisma, but some of the things I’m hearing are veering off from admiration into a very uncomfortable racial voyeurism.

*I’m officially the PTA Vice-President starting on July 1. It makes me extremely nervous because the new president has only been two meetings and knows NOTHING about education or the way the school system works. We sat down with the two former presidents and they were giving her a lot of advice while I listened in. She was so naive and . . well. . rude. She basically said she’d heard really bad things about our school and she was going to clean it up. Really what people who have been working their butts off for years want to hear, right? I don’t see this ending well. I don’t know what scares me more–working with her as her VP or having her bail, leaving me holding the bag.

*My mom is trying to guilt me into visiting or moving back to K Falls. I thought we were past this (especially the moving back part! Why would I want to move away from a place that has been named top 24 small city to live in and go back to that hell hole????), but apparently not. It used to work on me. She’d mention how she’d like to see the cousins grow up together, how much she missed us, yadda yadda yadda. I’d start thinking about it and three weeks later I’d have tickets to take Erik and myself out to the crazies. I thought I was doing it for him–keeping him with family. I didn’t realize I was teaching him to trust people who are not trustworthy. I was not keeping him safe. If I wasn’t related to those people there is no way in hell I ever would allow my children in the same room with them (except my mom–she’s just an enabler, not an addict).

I’m completely over that now. I’ve had a total mental shift and there is no guilt left. What kind of mother takes her children into a disaster like that? There’s the potential for drugs and violence. Everything is completely unpredictable. I’m miserable. Heck, I don’t like to eat off the plates or eat the food b/c basic food safety is not followed. My mom thinks that she can leave food sitting out in the winter because it’s cold outside. Dude! She has indoor heating. The kitchen counter is not a refrigerator. I don’t want to eat cooked meat that’s been sitting out all night.

It has been so freeing these past 18 months to let go of all the familial guilt. I don’t owe my mom anything. I do love my mom, but I can recognize that she has made some terrible mistakes and continues to make these mistakes. Nothing ever changes. I can not help her. She needs to help herself. She doesn’t even recognize that she has a problem. Instead of hopping on the computer and arranging a miserable trip, I’m pissed she thinks she can pull her woe is me crap and get us there. Maybe I shouldn’t get so angry, but she doesn’t get it. She refuses to see how messed up my sister is, always giving excuse after excuse for her shitty behavior. I can’t take listening to it anymore. I am out of sympathy. There comes a time in ever person’s life when they have to take control and make changes happen for themselves. She is well past that time and I’m tired of waiting for it to happen.

*Ok, I have to think of something pleasant to write about so I don’t go to bed and stew! How about cheap allergy meds? I’ve never taken allergy meds before because Benedryl knocks me on my ass, but I took a chance on some Costco brand non-drowsy claritan. What a great investment! I’ve never known that life can be so pleasant! I can walk outside without having my nose drip, my eyes prickle and my throat close-up. Yes, I’m almost a 40 year old woman and I didn’t know about the joys of allergy medication. I never thought my allergies were that bad, but I guess they were. I haven’t noticed any side effects, so I’d say that’s the best $18 I’ve spent in a long time.

I can’t believe I have two more days of single parenting. I am spent. I thought I was going to fall down sobbing in hysterics around 7 pm, but I managed to keep it together and get Elsa in the tub*. Nothing unusual was happening; it was just not ending. Usually Mike shows up by 7 and I can take a small break while he handles Elsa and I “handle” Erik, who is 7 1/2 and doesn’t need all that much hands-on handling.

Instead of de-cluttering the house–my god how much clutter these children can create when their dad is not here to pick it up every evening!–I decided to get another piece of my never ending dining room project done**.

Never paint with a 3 year old in the room. Just don’t do it.

She was mostly good, but she wanted to be involved and made unnecessary messes since that is the primary job of a three year old. Nothing I couldn’t clean up. In fact, it wasn’t even bad at all by three year old standards, but just unnecessary. By 5 pm I am over unnecessary messes.

I made the mistake of trying to trim out my west facing sliding glass door in the late afternoon/early evening. I was so blinded by the sun that I have no idea if I even managed to slap paint in the right spots. I did a lot of the painting while holding up a random bag of calla lily bulbs to the glass, trying to shield my eyes. When and where am I going to plant these bulbs? No clue. Consider them Exhibit #196165 of why I should not be allowed in Costco.

When I bought my paint the paint department clerk talked me out of semi-gloss. I bought eggshell and am really regretting it. Yes, it has a nicer finish (semi-gloss shows every little bump), but it is not easy to clean. I’m used to spray and wiping my walls with minimal effort. I’m going to have to reconsider the paint I use for the living room, now that I’ve actually been living with eggshell for awhile. My walls get filthy. I’m sort of obsessed with cleaning them. I can have cobwebs on the ceiling, dirty dishes in the sink, and burned out light bulbs every where, but by gum my baseboards, walls and bathrooms will be cleaned!

I have to admit all the random clutter is about to drive me over the edge. I never knew I was a person who was bothered by crap everywhere, but apparently I am. I guess living with a neat-nik has residual effects.

And my neat-nik is apparently rock climbing in Arizona tonight. I can’t even imagine. Maybe someone hacked into his facebook.

[Just checked FB again–he’s mountain hiking, not rock climbing. Makes much more sense.]

A friend of mine was a great help and took Erik to soccer practice. She didn’t know what she was getting into. He is a great kid, but he takes things so seriously and he refuses to listen to anyone. I have to actively work to ignore him during soccer practice and let the coach do his job. I’d really like to march out there, grab him by the ear and tell him to listen for once in his life. Seriously, this boy is not lacking in confidence at all. In some ways this is quite wonderful, but is is exhausting and embarrassing when he argues with authority figures (when the authority figures are right–I do like that he’s not afraid to stand up for himself).

The report from my friend made me want to crawl in a hole somewhere. She must not watch him on the field at other times or she would have already known that he yells, stomps, pouts, gets in arguments with the coach and otherwise exhibits intense 7 year old behavior. They were scrimmaging and he got put on the side with almost all girls, so they lost big time. I hate that I just typed that. Just because they are girls doesn’t mean they should lose! But, well. . . I’ve seen enough of these particular girls to know why he was upset about being on their team. They are playing a completely different game–mainly, La la la la la, let’s look at flowers and twirl our hair. They’re killing me! Why do they have to live up to the generalizations?

Next year I’m planning on putting him in a different league. I’ve done some research and there’s a better league that has boy teams and girl teams. Girls can join the boy teams but not vice versa. We did a winter session with this place and it was so nice to have the genders separated. I can’t believe my feminist self is saying this, but everyone seemed a lot happier.

We do our current league because it is a bit cheaper and we have a lot of friends in the league. The other league is better quality and a lot closer. I just won’t have anyone to talk to at games. Or maybe I will. I seem to know everyone. Two of my friends call me the mayor of Germantown, which I find hilarious since I used to be so shy.

How about I end with a sweet thing that Erik did today? He brought home Magic Tree House #1 from the library, even though he already read it at school. Why did he bring it? Because he thought I would like to read it to find out how Jack and Annie got the treehouse.

Will I read it?

Hahahahahahahahahahaha.

Have I mentioned how much I HATE those books?

But still, the sentiment was very sweet.

Elsa is also very sweet and lovable, even if she is exhausting in all her Threeness. This is such a strange age. I LOVE this age. She is just so cute and it is amazing to watch her learning how the world works. I really need to remember all her sweet Threeisms (she calls polka dots “coconuts”) before she outgrows them and I forget them all. I want another baby so I can have another late toddler/early preschooler. But good grief is this age a challenge. See? Strange.

*Thank you, thank you Kisha for encouraging me to try the baking soda bath again. I took your suggestions and hid the bag and just presented her with some “magic powder” to play with. She loved it and her little problem area is looking the healthiest it’s ever looked. I went to Costco today to buy a new bag of baking soda because I can see a lot of these soaks in our future. I had a major eczema flare-up on our trip to Florida and a small dip in the tub to un-do the plug seems to have turned it around. It is looking flakey, but not red and inflamed. Whoo-hoo!

**I have not been very motivated to finish this project because my mom “helped” by putting away all my supplies. I had everything organized exactly how I wanted it and now I can’t find anything. Also, she took all my good white athletic socks out of my drawer (why was she in my drawer???) and put them in a plastic Target bag, leaving random white socks that didn’t match or fit in my drawer. Why? I have no freakin’ clue. It took me two weeks to find my socks. I was not pleased. At. All.

*Elsa is not feeling well. She has a cough that is about ready to send me into orbit (I feel bad that I just want to yell “Quit it with the coughing! QUIT QUIT QUIT!!!!” and I don’t actually yell it, but it is insane making). Then, this morning, she was crying when she had to pee so I took a look at her vagina and it was really gross up in there. Was it regular diaper rash? Yeast? What? I have no idea so I decided I needed a professional opinion.

We couldn’t get an appointment until 4:45, which meant I had to take Erik with us. We didn’t get called back into the room until almost 5:30. At least the doctor saw us the moment we stepped into the exam room. She was the doctor who clicked a wrong box on Elsa’s chart when Elsa had Lyme’s disease, accidently giving her a dose of antibiotics that did not knock out the infection. Thankfully her symptoms reappeared immediately and we were referred to an infectious disease specialist who figured out the problem. As soon as the doctor walked in she said “Elsa! I’m so glad to see you! I think about you every day!” She then told me that there are moments in your life when you make such a bad error that you think about it every single day and that she recalls that mistake every day when she prescribes amoxycyllin.

Obviously I am not happy she made the mistake, but it is really nice to hear that she didn’t view it as a throw-away mistake. She learned from it and thinks about it.

They wanted to get a urine sample from Elsa and I told them I didn’t think that would be possible. The girl has the biggest bladder you’ve ever heard of. In the mornings she doesn’t usually pee until she’s been up about an hour. That’s over 12 hours of holding it in. Sometimes I think she’s going to overflow her little potty. No way was I going to get her to pee on demand.

The point was moot since I couldn’t even get her to sit on the toilet, much less try to get her to squeeze something out. She was kicking, screaming, running. . . it was a mess.

Finally the doctor knocked on the door and said I should take home a couple of cups and we would start with topical treatment.

I was supposed to give her a baking soda bath tonight, but I couldn’t get her to sit down in the tub. She usually loves taking a bath and she thought it was fun to put the baking soda into the water and stir it around, but she completely freaked when it was time to sit. She was like a cat, clinging to the side.

All that yelling and fit throwing wore her out, so I was able to get her down super early, thank goodness. I was just about d-o-n-e with her today. Between the coughing, the refusal to cooperate, and our food fights (oh yes, you can bet your booty we’ve had horrendous food fights today) I am beyond exhausted.

*Did I mention that Mike is out of town all week? He always says that he’d prefer to be here at home with us, but how can that be true? He’s out in Arizona eating Mexican food and talking to the fancy space people. That sounds more fun than dealing with a screaming girl who won’t give you a urine sample.

*I told Erik he was not allowed to watch Elsa’s medical exam, but when the doctor got her in position he ran up and looked for a brief second. When we got home he refused to eat his dinner because he said it was all he could think about and it was the grossest thing he’d ever seen, so how could he possibly eat? I just don’t even know what to say or do in this parenting situation so I pretty much ignored it.

Later he asked if he could make himself a grilled cheese sandwich, which irritated me since I had already cooked dinner. I told him if he could cook it all by himself he could have one. I kept an eye on things, but he did it all himself. He gets more and more independent every day! Yesterday he made cookies almost entirely by himself from a recipe he found in a book Elsa got for her birthday.

*We had a fondue night with friends on Saturday. I think my friends were taken aback when Erik asked if he could cook the fondue, so I handed him the spoon and let him stir. Irish Lad wanted to help, so I let him put the cheese into the pot. He was very proud of himself. I don’t think he’s ever had a chance to do something like that.

Later that evening Erik wanted to cut himself another slice of french bread, so I asked the husband if he could hand Erik the bread knife since it was too high for Erik to reach. Both he and my friend had their eyes pop out of their heads and they told me they don’t allow their children to play with knives. He ended up cutting Erik’s slice, much to Erik’s annoyance.

*The fondue night was my last hurrah. I started Weight Watchers again in earnest yesterday. I know it works, but it is just so fucking boring. I hate biology.

*Remember when I popped the bible bump on my wrist? It’s back and I can’t seem to pop it. I guess I’ll need to see a doctor about it, but I am not going back to my primary care provider until I drop 20 pounds.

*Elsa just had her nightly 11 pm wake-up, so I guess it’s time for me to get to bed. I was able to get her down in her own bed, so I am crossing my fingers that I will be able to sleep alone most of the night. I don’t usually deal with her bedtime, so I had no idea she prefers to use the baby quilt I made for her while I was pregnant. I need to make her a new quilt. She is way to big for such a little square.

*I am down to the dregs on my DVR. I didn’t even watch anything tonight. Tomorrow I think I’m going to watch an episode of Chuck. Yes, the show has been off the air for over two years. Yes, I still have the last three episodes on my DVR, unwatched.

Thank you for all your thoughtful responses, stories and sympathies on my Elsa eating post. I also talked to one of my IRL best friends who may just be the best mom I’ve ever met. We basically have the same parenting philosophies, but she’s a lot calmer than me. She sent me THIS LINK which basically says everything you all were saying.

I have a problem–I don’t understand how number 1 and number 2 work together. Number 1 says trust a child’s hunger instincts but number 2 says to have scheduled eating times.

After all your comments, talking to my friend, and working things out in my own head I’ve come up with a plan (that Mike supports, though he was not really a part of the making of the plan since he was working. He has a big presentation this upcoming week).

From now on all eating will take place at the table. Meals always take place at the table anyway, but I’ve gotten into a bad habit of letting her bring snacks down to the basement to watch TV. That’s over. Snacks will be much more regulated. When she goes on her “I’m hungry, I’m hungry, I’m hungry” kicks she will have the option to eat various fruits that I know she likes.

When she cries for junk food, she’s going to be in time out until she stops crying.

We’ve already started implementing this on Friday and things are already getting a little better. The true test will come next week when I will be home alone with no adult back-up for a week.

And, of course, I will still be talking to her doctor about it at her 3 year check-up. My sister has type I diabetes and celiac disease, so I definitely want to have a conversation with a medical professional. I’d really like both kids to get tested for celiac now that we know my sister has it.

I’m really hoping she’s just having a growth spurt. I know kids do go through phases of eating more food than usual. With Erik it was always like he subsisted on air, then suddenly he would spend a few days eating regular size meals. I guess since she is already eating regular sized meals, eating constantly might be her way of having a growth spurt?

I love Elsa. She has many, many wonderful qualities. She’s often sweet, usually funny, and tries very hard to make us happy.

But. . .

There’s one thing that’s driving me nuts and making me completely worried about her future.

The girl likes to eat.

Of course most parents of 3 year olds would think this is a GREAT thing. On the outside looking in I would also think this was a great thing. I can’t think of any food that she consistently rejects. Some days she rejects everything, but sometimes she eats anything. Erik went through the typical white diet–only eating white foods. I’ve read it has to do with evolution and survival of the fittest. White foods are not likely to be poisonous like a nice red berry might be.

When he was little I refused to fight about food. I provided him healthy food and always made sure there was something he would eat (I refuse to deal with a hungry child. In my personal experience hunger is the number 1 cause of meltdowns and bad attitudes). I lived by the wise words of some random child development book that said children know how to regulate their own hunger. They will not starve or overeat if left to their own devices.

It worked well with Erik. It drove me crazy to keep offering things I knew he wouldn’t eat since I hate waste, but the whole food thing was not much of an issue.

I only describe all this so you’ll understand why I feel like a total noob with Elsa’s issues. I’m supposed to be an experienced parent, but I am at a complete loss with this problem.

Elsa will not stop eating. She wants food when she’s hungry. She wants food when she’s bored. She wants food when she’s upset. She wants food if she happens to see food. Get my drift? Girl wants food.

If we’re on a playdate or whatever, she’ll find the food and just sit there and eat and eat and eat until I put an end to it. It pains me to do so since I firmly believe hungry children should be fed, but there is no way in hell that she can actually be hungry.

She can throw an hour long fit because she wants a bowl of ice cream or sprinkles. Doesn’t matter if I have them in the house or not. If she decides she wants it, she screams and screams and screams and cries and kicks and it is completely awful.

I do all the things I know to do. Ignore her, put her in her room, hug her close and tell her I wish we could eat ice cream all the time, pretend to give her silly ice cream treats, play distracting games. Sometimes the tactics work; sometimes they don’t.

I’ve done a lot of the obvious things. I’ve replaced most of the junk with healthier junk (frozen yogurt vs. ice cream; WhoNu or Kashi cookies; lots of fruit). I offer her strawberries and other good choices when she’s hungry. Sometimes I just flat out refuse to feed her, which hurts my mommy heart.

My next step is to completely get rid of all the junk. It’d be better for the whole family (don’t even get me started on my self-sabotage and complete inability to get back into WeightWatchers. I KNOW it works. I KNOW I need to do it. I HATE the unfairness of life and refuse to help myself. Yadda yadda yadda boring body stuff) if we didn’t have random junk food around here.

I think I’m going to have to set up a much stricter meal/snack schedule. I’m terrible at scheduling, especially when it comes to food. We do a lot of playdates and park days so I hate to be locked into something. Can I really deny her food when it is not the proper time? I’ll become the one woman I really can’t stand! She only feeds her children at certain times (no snacks) with absolutely no deviation, ever. She’s crazy! I don’t want to be crazy, but this is getting out of control.

I’ve had to ask people to stop giving her snacks at playdates. She goes up to everyone and tells them she is hungry. I feel like a heel when I tell them she can’t have pretzels (or whatever–not like anyone is giving out candy), and sometimes she completely loses her shit, but she’ll sit there and eat non-stop for the whole time if she’s allowed to do so.

I am really worried that she likes to eat when she’s upset or bored. She’s too young for that! As a fat woman who has never known a skinny day in my life, it worries me more than words can express that she seems to be following in my footsteps. I want her to be happy and healthy. I have never been happy with my body. How can I save her from the misery that’s plagued me my whole life?

I guess I have a game plan, but I am not thrilled with it. I don’t think it will solve the one thing that drives me absolutely insane. She constantly follows me around and says “I’m hungry, I’m hungry, I’m hungry, I’m hungry.” She ate three adult size pieces of pizza today. Before we were even out the door she started in on the “I’m hungry” business.

It’s hard to be strong in the face of constant crying and whining from your child. I just want it to end. I give in to her more than I should and I know that. I kick myself for that. I hate that I allow myself to be worn down. I know that if I love her I will deny her all these sweets that she demands, but it is hard to take the long view when she is in my face crying.

I need to talk to her ped about it, though I don’t ever find the ped particularly helpful. I suspect they will say “Just don’t give her junky food.” Maybe they will have something better than that. I hope! Her 3 year appointment isn’t until mid-May since I was recovering from emergency surgery around her birthday last year. It is so silly how they can’t have their well child check even one day before the anniversary of their last well child check. I suspect it has something to do with insurance, since the 3 year visit does not include a vaccination.

Anybody with practical experience have any words of wisdom for me? I need to hear that this will turn out ok and she won’t be damaged for life. Food and I have a horrible relationship. I truly believed I could change that in my kids since I have all the knowledge to prevent the food craziness–just not the will power to take care of myself.

Sonja!

I wrote all the names on slips of paper and had Erik draw one! He actually drew two, and I made him narrow it down. Sorry, Kisha! You were name number 2. Hmmmm. Maybe you would have preferred I not tell you how close you were to winning.

For anyone who is bitterly disappointed that you didn’t win, check out Woolzie’s FB page HERE. There are a lot of giveaways listed and if you have a blog you may even be able to run your own review and giveaway.

When I was a kid I used to make chocolate chip cookies every Saturday. We didn’t bake many–just ate the dough. I could really go for a big bowl of cookie dough right now. Anyone want to go buy me some chocolate chips? The closest thing I have, which is not really close at all, is lavender candy melts that are in my Honey Dukes jar. They are supposed to be puking pastilles and a fun wink to my Harry Potter love. I don’t know if anyone else will get the reference, but it makes me happy. I don’t think they will have that satisfying chocolate flavor, even if I did cut them up into chip sized pieces so I guess they get to continue their lives as fake puking pastilles.

Poor Elsa is so, so sick. She’s puny and hot and I’m afraid she’s going to have a febrile seizure or dehydrate. We live in the year 2013. It should be simple enough to alternate tylenol and advil and keep the fever under control. Problem? Every time we attempt to give her medication she vomits all over the place. We’ve given up. I guess I’m going to have to stick her in a tub of ice cubes like they had to do with Almanzo when they were in the big city. Something like that. I haven’t watched Little House on the Prairie for over 20 years so I might be mixed up. She’s eating a popsicle right now, so maybe that will help. I do have some Fever-All suppositories, but I’m not quite that desperate yet. I am not comfortable sticking something up my three year old’s butt. An infant? Sure, they won’t remember. But not a three year old.

Since I know I’m home bound today, I didn’t bother to put pants on. I’m wearing loud, floral jammie bottoms that are not at all attractive on a woman my size. Erik came running in the house, sobbing and would not tell me the problem, just that I had to go with him.

I walked outside and he started telling a tale about new kids at the playground who threw a piece of metal at him, told him he was not allowed to play there and told him it was only for black kids.

Mama Bear started roaring and I marched down the street with my flimsy, floral clothing with no thought to anything but kicking some bratty butt. At least I had a bra on.

Sure enough there were two unfamiliar faces at the park–one was a tween black kid and one was a teen that I would not have called black, but who knows. Maybe he was bi-racial.

They knew they were in trouble before I even arrived and they tried to tell me that Erik was hitting the pesky younger brother of Erik’s best friend. I tried to sort things out, but it was pretty obvious from the stories of all the other kids that the unfamiliar kids were causing trouble. I asked where they lived and they pointed behind the houses, so I told them to get out of our neighborhood and not come back. Thankfully they left. I was afraid I was going to have to call 911, but then realized I forgot my phone at home. Calling 911 should be reserved for true emergencies and I don’t know that they would have considered this an emergency, but I figured if I started dialing they would get scared and run away.

I hung around for a little while and they seemed to be gone, so I started walking towards home. Erik and a couple other kids started screaming for me, so I turned around and the kids were back. They had doubled around the houses and were hiding in a tree, just waiting for me to leave.

I finally ran home and got my Kindle, a coat and my phone so I could supervise. I guess I finally outlasted them. I came home after about two hours* and Erik hasn’t been in to tell me they’ve returned.

I hate bullies. Why can’t we all just hold hands and sing kumbayya together?

*Mike was home with Elsa. I did not abandon my poor, sick baby.

I’ve been listening to the news almost non-stop today, and taking a look at the pictures posted across the web. I love the show Flash Point, but you never think you are really going to see pictures of that many armed police officers walking through an innocent suburb. I can’t imagine how scared the people inside their homes must have been.

I want to slap a couple of people on FB who are posting things about “I bet all you libs are glad to see assault weapons today!”

You know what? I am glad to see assault rifles today. In the hands of POLICE officers. I don’t think anyone is suggesting that trained police officers be denied their tools of trade. Bah. Thankfully it was just a couple of people. Most people have respect and realize we are all in this crazy world together and we need to help each other. Maybe that feeling of warmth will even last 24 hours.

I don’t know if you have all seen coverage of the uncle who called them losers and told him to turn himself in, but it is playing non-stop on our local news. He’s in the community just a couple of miles south of us. Some of my friends were freaking out that the suspect would try to run to his uncle’s place and cause all the commotion to come to us. After seeing the uncle’s reaction I really didn’t think the suspect would find a warm welcome and didn’t think we had anything to be concerned about. Instead, we had a tornado watch. Is the world going insane?

I was locked in the house anyway. Poor Elsa has the flu, I guess. She started with a hacking cough, followed by puking, then a day of high fever and an evening of losing all food out both ends. Lovely. It is going to be a long, long night. But at least we probably don’t have to worry about a shoot-out (I hope! Never say never, right?)