The Queen's Rambles

Our local grocery store has purple carts. Not fully purple–they are mostly silver, but the plastic edges are purple. They also have purple car carts. Do you know how unusual purple is in the shopping cart world?

VERY VERY.

That’s how unusual.

Target, Staples, and TJ Maxx are red; Toys R Us is blue; the other grocery store is black.

So what happens if we go to any of these places?

Elsa screams. And screams and SCREAMS.

“Purple cart!!! PURPLE CART!!! Elsa ride purple cart!”

I’ve spent many a 20 minute chunk of time in Target, pretending I don’t hear the banshee wailing in my face as I rush through the aisles to get the basics and get the hell out.

Yesterday I couldn’t even get her strapped into the blue Toys R Us cart. She’s big, strong, and fiercely independent. She laid in middle of the floor screaming “purple cart, purple cart!” even after I told her she could pick out any cart she could see. We tried to talk into the store, but she kept running out. She started pulling things off the shelf. It was your basic 2 1/2 year old tantrum, and it was exhausting. It wasn’t as emotionally draining as Erik’s fits used to be because I know she’ll grow out of it, but it was still no fun.

Do you think a purple cart cover would help the situation? That’s the only thing I can come up with. Not like I can steal a purple cart from Giant and tote it around in my van. I have plenty of purple fabric if I can just find a simple pattern online. I hate dealing with shopping cart covers (we have a pink one), but maybe it would work? I don’t know.

What else?

Can someone tell me what to buy Erik for Christmas. He got a DS for his birthday so I’ll get him some games. I also got him a couple of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle things because he wanted them a few weeks ago, but he seems to have forgotten all about TMNT now. Dandy. I won’t be getting him any LEGOS. He got a bunch of sets for his birthday and they are all still sitting on his desk, unopened. The good news is he’s so uninterested in them he won’t even open them, which means I can re-gift them with a clear conscious.

I got Elsa a My Little Pony train so I picked out a green Pony for Erik. They both love to watch the show, so I was hoping if he had his own they wouldn’t fight over hers. Seemed fair to me. Elsa is super easy to shop for. She loves to play with toys. I’m getting her a play kitchen as her main gift and she’ll get some dolls and such to round out the experience. My mom is getting her a dress up trunk set, so that will be perfect as well.

Erik. . . that boy is so hard to shop for. He doesn’t like toys. He only likes games, but they seem so anticlimactic to me. He really wants his own computer, especially because our desktop died so now my laptop is the only computer in the house. I guess we could get him a KindleFire or other tablet that’s a little more affordable. He only wants to play FB style games on it. I don’t know. . .I’m just not that comfortable buying him something so delicate and expensive.

I’m all ears, if you have a great idea. He has several type of bikes, scooters, pogo sticks. . . Doesn’t play with any of them. The only toy he consistently plays with is the umbrella. Do you know where I’d like to shove that umbrella?

He thinks that he can’t tell anyone what his Santa wish is, which is frustrating. He has something in mind, but I can’t figure it out. Last year it was a pair of fleece, camo sweat pants. Strange, strange child.

Also, he is obsessed with his Chinese Zodiac sign. There’s a Chinese boy in his class and I think his parents must not be native English speakers because they’ve taught him that 2005 was the year of the cock. I’m trying to tell Erik that rooster is a nicer word, but he doesn’t believe me. I just loving hearing “Hey Grandma, do you love that I’m a cock?” a hundred times a day.

Oddly enough, Erik and Mike are both cocks *snicker* and Elsa and I are both tigers.

I had a dream last night. I can’t remember anything about it, except I was watching the Best TV Show Ever. It was a cross between Chuck and Grimm and now I’m really sad that it doesn’t actually exist.

I didn’t pick up any new shows this season. We started Revolution, but the girl was way too annoying. Did I miss any great shows this season? I even like shows that have been cancelled if they are wrapped up in some way (Terriers springs to mind).

I guess I better go cook dinner. I lead a life of excitement!

We had a really great, crazy, silly, stressful, unusual weekend. It started with Thanksgiving of course. Turkey, pies, stuffing. Yum. What else can I say? We had it at my friend’s house and it went really well. Four kids, almost zero fights. I’d call that a win.

On Friday we got up and headed to the Big Apple! Do people really call it that?

This was an ill-planned adventure inspired by my desire to have a romantic get-away weekend with Mike. Except? I can’t seem to leave my kids behind. Plus, I didn’t want to invest any money or energy into a plan that could go awry any moment based on my mom’s availability as a babysitter. Better to plan something that wouldn’t cause oodles of resentment if my mom had to fly home and rescue her grandkids from my psychotic, drug addled sister.

So off we went to see a family show: The 85th Rockettes Christmas Spectacular!

We had a pretty good drive up to Newark. We stayed in a slightly run down hotel, that I will never stay at again. Problem 1: Though the facility is advertised as non-smoking, some asshat had clearly smoked in our room at some point in the last year. My eye is still sore.

Problem 2: My mom’s toilet was clogged. Instead of sending a maintenance man or plumber, they knocked on the door and threw a plunger at my mom. They finally moved her to a different room when she called and demanded action.

The biggest problem? Poor Elsa spiked a high fever and was miserable. Great! Just what you want when you are taking your kids out on a special adventure! I did bring meds for her, but she was up a lot during the night. Even when she was sleeping she had her 103 degree feet stuck in my face, which was not comfortable. I felt terrible for dragging a sick kid around NYC, but she did perk up quite a bit the next day. Mike and I were less than perky after a night of zero sleep.

Erik was desperate to see the Statue of Liberty, so we tried to go to a viewing point but the viewing point was closed. We didn’t have time to figure out how to get to Ellis Island, or we would have done that. We ended up seeing it from afar and he was happy.

We drove into Manhattan, which was completely nuts and parked in a garage we had picked out the night before. Then we walked a block, bought our subway tickets and stood staring at the platform, completely unsure of which train went which direction. They didn’t have maps like we expected from our Washington DC metro experience.

I’ve always heard New Yorkers are super grouchy, but we didn’t have that experience at all. A jolly young guy in his twenties helpfully pointed us in the right direction and told us what stop to get off at. It was only two stops away, so thankfully our subway riding experience was limited. I get train sick. I was shocked to see everyone eating and drinking on the train, since in DC you WILL get a spanking if you are seen with food or drink.

We ended up in the Rockefeller Center. What a crazy place! I guess it is an underground mall? But with lots and lots and lots of hallways? It felt like we walked around for freakin’ ever. We finally made it to the street level, but all of the exits were locked. Eventually we found the one door that would take us out. I was getting panicked and claustrophobic. I should have been happy to be away from the crowds.

We walked out and saw two groups of Salvation Army bell ringers singing and dancing. These people were putting on a show. Quite a contrast to our tired, worn down bellringers. We tried to see the ice-skating rink at Rockefeller center, but we couldn’t push through the crowd to get to it. We were THERE, just not able to get close enough to see anything. We also saw the Christmas tree, but it was not public ready. I don’t even know if it is a real tree, or something they build with pine branches from other trees. It was up, but had tons of scaffolding all around it, along with big branches laying all over the ground.

We were hungry for lunch, so started walking around. If we had been smart I would have pulled out my phone and used Yelp to find a good place to eat. We did that for dinner the night before and ended up at a great diner–over-priced, but pretty decent food. Instead, my mom picked a Chinese place that was beyond awful. The kids were crying, I felt like crying, my mom was embarrassed. Ugh.

We made the best of it and joked about our New York City experience being authentic. We walked back over to Radio City Music Hall and it was time for the adventure to really begin! The whole place was completely nuts, with limos letting people out and people trying to buy our tickets. We couldn’t even find the line until another very nice guy told us we had to go around the block for the real line. We did so and got right in.

The lobby of the building was amazing! We were there fairly early and were able to check the stroller and walk around. We found the bathrooms, which were fabulous. They had a true ladies lounge, then another really interesting dressing room type thing where you could sit at glass vanities and freshen up your make-up.

Santa was in the house and though I vowed not to do Santa pics this year, we did Santa pics. There wasn’t a line, so what could I do?

I paid an arm and a leg for them, but they were much better quality than our mall Santa photos. Sadly, they took a pic of Erik by himself which turned out totally fabulous, then a pic of Erik and Elsa together which was just mediocre. I couldn’t justify/afford to buy them both so I had to get the mediocre picture. It was so sad to see them throw the Erik picture in the garbage, but I seriously could not justify getting it. I was hoping the gal would sneak it to me, but I guess she was well trained.

Eventually it was time to find our seats. Mom bought Erik some cotton candy that came with a Santa hat. I have no clue how much she paid for it. Elsa, my little sugar fiend, was not impressed with cotton candy and preferred to feed it to her dad. He was not impressed either. I was trying not to eat it because I could nom nom the whole thing (it’s offical! I’m down 20 pounds, even after Thanksgiving and NYC!).

The show was spectacular. The Rockettes are amazing. Totally, totally amazing. I can see why the tickets cost so much. This isn’t some rinky-dink production. There was a 3-D movie, dozens of dancing Santas, 3 camels, sparkles galore, and so much more.

Elsa was entranced for the first 15 minutes, then got very restless and it was hard to contain her. The rest of us, Erik included, totally loved it. Seeing such a large number of dancers all in complete time was surreal. It almost looked like computer animation or something.

The show wasn’t all Rockettes, all the time. They had Santa MCing the whole thing and a sort of loose story-line through parts of the show. Every other dance was something other than Rockettes, I’m assuming so the Rockettes could have a costume change. They had gorgeous costumes!

We were all starving after the show, so headed over to Rockefeller center for some overpriced food. We ended up in a place that had amazing sounding milkshakes (toasted marshmallow, chocolate peanut butter bomb!), but I resisted and got a small meal. They had wikki sticks instead of crayons, which was genius and kept the kids very busy.

After that, we headed out to find our van. We walked right in front of the Empire State Building, which made us all dizzy. We saw plenty of knock-off bags being sold in the street. Erik was very disappointed not to find a shell game so he could win some serious money. Mike and I were not at all disappointed. Erik doesn’t believe us that it is all a scam and is sure he will be the master of the shell game.

My only regret is that we got very few pictures. The crowds and lighting were not conducive to picture taking.

We finally drove off, headed for home. It was fun to see so many iconic places, but let’s be honest: New York is crowded and dirty. I don’t know how people breathe. There’s no oxygen source! I am so glad that we live in a pretty little community with tons of greenery. You couldn’t pay me to live in NYC.

We got home pretty late and had just put the kids to bed/gotten our PJs on when we heard a horrible banging noise. I thought someone was taking a battering ram to our door. I grabbed the phone to call 911 and Mike went outside. Two of our neighbors were out there and pointed to our living room window. They said a group of teens (3 girls, 2 guys) walked by, yelled out that they were the Night Terrors, and took a giant stick to our window. RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE NEIGHBORS. Fucking, audacious assholes. Thankfully we have double pane windows and it only broke the first pane, so we didn’t have to find a way to block off the window for the night, nor did we have to clean glass off our couch.

I called 911 and they sent an officer. He didn’t even take the stick for fingerprints. He basically wrote it off and said they will never catch the kids. The neighbors said it wasn’t anyone from the neighborhood. We have a case number, but I looked up our insurance info and it won’t pay for us to make a claim. Our deductible is much higher than a replacement window.

It was scary as hell hearing the sound of that window being hit by the stick. For the first time ever I’m thinking maybe we do need a dog. A big, loyal guard dog.

My mom arrived on Saturday and things have been going well. The kids totally love her. I was surprised that Elsa wasn’t shy at all. I guess she really does remember her from this summer!

She’s only driving me a little crazy. I learned all my bad eating habits from her, so it’s sort of a point of contention in my brain. She doesn’t know this. I’m doing WW (only 1.6 pounds before I hit -20!) and it is not a program that you can easily share with someone. She wants me to tell her exactly what to eat, but that’s not how it works. You need to be a member so you can find out how many points you are allotted, then track your own points. I am not eating magic food that makes me skinny. She is eating my food, but 3 times what I’m eating, and thinks she is dieting. I keep telling her that it isn’t a gimmick–the food is not doing anything magical to make her lose weight–it is strictly about reducing food intake (and increasing activity if you choose to do it that way). This is not a program where you can successfully eat someone else’s diet. A BIG component is spending your own points on food that you like and enjoy. You basically have a built in cheat day, which keeps you from giving up. If your cheats are different from my cheats you are not going to be happy.

Kisha and I are living parallel lives again and she doesn’t even know it. We’ve been having plumbing problems with the toilet in the main bathroom. Erik flushes down wads of flushable wipes, which aren’t so flushable when you do several at a time. It has slowly stopped sending matter down with a flush. Then the tank started filling soooooooooo sllllllllloooooooooowwwwwllllllllyyyyy that you had to wait a couple of hours between flushes. Good thing we have two other toilets, right?

So yesterday I changed out the fill valve. It was supposed to be a super easy ten minute job requiring no tools.

Ha, I say!

Ha!

If I had manly hand strength I probably could have done it without tools, but I had to get Mike to bring up a wrench. He had to do a lot of the removal of the old stuff, but I did manage to install the new stuff in about 45 minutes. Instead of spending $8 on the basic set, I splurged and got the fancy duo set for $20, so now we’re supposed to be saving a lot of water if we can ever figure out which lever to push at the right time.

Problem: toilet is still sort of clogged.

I bought some kind of toilet unclogger chemical stuff and gave it a treatment. It’s supposed to get four treatments this week. Hopefully that works and I don’t have to call a real plumber. Real plumbers break the bank.

Speaking of toilets, Elsa announced that she’s no longer going to wear diapers. I decided to run with the idea because she is totally ready. If she’s bare bottomed she will go in the potty every time.

We’ve been hard core potty training for 30 hours and we’ve had countless accidents, including big puddles on a see-saw at the playground and in her shoes at the library. I want to give up, but I’m a strong believe in “NEVER GO BACK” when it comes to potty training. She’ll get it. . . right? She doesn’t like the wet feel, so hopefully this will take a couple of days and it will be over.

I’m an optimist.

This is really the wrong time for the potty training. We’ll be out of the house for most of the weekend. I don’t know how this is supposed to work. I guess she better get trained tomorrow, or we’re going to have a big problem.

Next topic:

Erik doesn’t like to play outside because of some neighborhood issues. I hate this. He has always been so active and always loved to be outside. I’ve been seeing lots of commercials for a wii dance game, so decided to pick one up. I ended up with Just Dance Kids 2 and it is totally perfect!

It has a few really young songs (think Old McDonald, Wiggles, Yo Gabba Gabba), some tweeny songs, and some fun older dance songs that even adults can enjoy. There are various levels of skill and exertion involved. He is completely loving it and spends HOURS at a time doing the dances. The more he practices, the higher the score, which keeps him interested. I’ve been doing some of it with him, but holy cow. It’s hard! The dances aren’t particularity hard to master, but there are a lot of big arm movements (you hold the wii-mote), which make for an exhausting work out. He has completely mastered Do The Monkey, an old Wiggles song. He said “I wonder why this song seems so familiar to me” and I had to raise my eyebrow. Why yes, child, this song should be very familiar to you. He spent a year listening/watching nothing but the Wiggles. I swear he had an Australian accent for awhile.

And one more topic to round out the night:

I have never understood the Taylor Swift hate because I’ve never really listened to her songs.

Now I get it.

I don’t hate her. I don’t care about her enough to exert that kind of emotion. I am certainly getting tired of all her songs, though. She loves ’em and leaves ’em faster than Elizabeth Taylor. Or maybe they leave her. I guess they must leave her, if her passive-aggressive, weepy, crazy lyrics are anything to go by. From her lyrics, none of them understand her or have enough James Taylor (or is it James Brown?) records. I don’t know. I don’t care. Get her off my air waves, STAT! Not likely to happen as her DC concert sold out in minutes. When’s Garth coming to town?

I want a Jenny Special from Maria’s of Keno. This will mean nothing to any of you. Maria’s was a little Mexican restaurant that I worked in during high school. They went out of business over 15 years ago, so it’s been a long time since I’ve had my comfort food. I can make most of it myself, but the Jenny Special is elusive. It’s special beef and potato mixture, rolled up in a flour tortilla, deep fried, then smothered with enchilada sauce and Bud’s award winning chili. Don’t forget the cheese and sour cream!

My mouth is watering.

And I’ll never be able to have it again.

I know there are worse problems in the world.

I’ve totally been off-diet since Hurricane Sandy and I’m pissed at myself. I don’t know what I need to do to convince my fingers to stop shoveling sugar into my mouth. Cut my tongue out? I don’t know. I like being thinner. Why do I sabotage myself? Yadda yadda yadda. Same song, hit repeat for 30 years.

I want to buy tickets for a Broadway show and escape to NYC for an overnight hotel visit. My mom could stay with the kids. I am kind of desperate to do this, all of a sudden, after a life time of never realizing that I, a podunk from Podunk-ville, could attend a Broadway play. NYC is not that far away! We could do it! There might even be food in NYC that rivals a deep fried chili burrito!

I need to talk to Mike and my mom about this plan. My fear is that I would spend a small fortune on tickets, only to have my mom jet back home to rescue the kids from my sister. Of course the kids’ safety takes precedent, but it is irritating that I can’t make an awesome plan. Mike is probably relieved that I can’t melt the plastic.

I should see if I can find a show in DC. There’s gotta be something remotely Broadway-esque, right?

I just looked up Broadway shows in NYC and found the Rockettes Christmas show. How awesome would that be? Maybe when Elsa is older we can go to that as a big family fun thing. I have a feeling the money man might not agree. I think these tickets are more expensive than a trip to Disneyland! Or maybe not. I have no idea how much a trip to Disneyland costs. It’s like, twenty bucks, right? Hahaha.

I don’t even want to go to Disneyland. I want to go to Hogwarts. Isn’t there some Hogwarts theme park somewhere? When will Elsa be old enough to go? I need a little win-gardium leviousa in my life.

And now I need to go take care of laundry and make Erik decorate a turkey. He is going to flip the eff out when he sees his turkey paper. Elsa scribbled alllllllllll over it. I’m going to break the news to him first and try to convince him that we can cover the turkey in fabric. It will represent our family! And be really cool! It will be the best! YOU’LL WIN!!!! Please no break down, child. I can’t handle another breakdown. We already had one when he came in the door and I wouldn’t give him an ice cream sundae. Apparently he is entitled to an ice cream sundae whenever the fancy strikes without so much as a pretty please with sugar on top? Do I look like a scoop girl at Baskin-Robbins? I’m not nearly as cute and perky.

So what am I going to cook for dinner? I have no idea. I was supposed to crock pot a pork roast, but it’s 4:30 and it didn’t happen. I suppose if I knew how to make a roast in the oven instead of a crock pot I could still cook it, but I have never made a roast in the oven. Maybe my trusty red checkered cookbook would give me the lowdown on proper roast cooking. Problem: it was supposed to be some dumb weight watchers recipe so I don’t even have anything good to go with it.

Woe is me. Yadda yadda yadda.

I’ve gotta get this turkey and pork taken care of. Over and out.

Did I tell you that I started Elsa in a parent’s day out program? She had her first session on Tuesday and it was glorious! Four hours. FOUR HOURS!!! Do you know what you can accomplish in four hours when you aren’t dragging along a toddler? Even a happy toddler is still a toddler and. . .well. . . toddles. Toddles is the new dawdles, right? I could run in and out of a store, unencumbered by a child who likes to hide behind every tree, trash can, car, etc. I could listen to the radio. Zoboomafoo and the Kratt Brothers got a much needed break from my DVD player. Glorious, I tell you.

Plus, the school has a car pool lane. I LOVE this thing. I am sure it can be frustrating, but at moment it seems genius. Erik’s preschool didn’t have a car pool lane. You parked and went in, no matter if you had a sleeping baby in the car or not. Now that I don’t have a sleeping baby to worry about it’s not that big of a deal, but it is so nice to just sit there and read a book with my seat heater turned up to the max, instead of parking, getting out of the car, awkwardly standing around, yadda yadda yadda.

Elsa was being a little monster for a couple of weeks, so I started researching my options and found a perfect fit. Of course, now she is back to her generally sweet, happy self so the program is not so necessary but I’ve already paid and I’m not complaining.

She loves it and was really ready for something with a little structure. She came out of her cranky phase with a very clear jump in cognitive abilities (not surprising at all–the cranky phase means something is happening with their little brains). She is doing a great job following directions, standing in line, emulating everything her brother does. She’s such a big girl!

I arrived to pick her up as the kids were coming in from recess. She was happily following along in line, her coat billowing out like a little blue Madeline. I remember when Erik was in his first year of preschool. He was about a year and a half older than she is now and every time I picked him up, the teacher was exhausted and exasperated, sternly telling Erik and another boy to stay in line. He never did.

Speaking of the boy, we had Erik’s parent/teacher conference on Monday. Everything was pretty much as we expected. I was very glad to learn that he has reading group every day. Last year he brought the book home every time he had reading group, but he hasn’t done that this year so I thought he wasn’t having reading group. At this point I don’t know why they are even calling it reading group. The teacher said that all the readers in his group are fluent and are waaaaaaay above grade level, so they are doing second grade reading group work. Second grade reading=a lot of writing. In order to progress they have to show written comprehension skills. They can’t orally answer a question. They have to write three complete sentences to answer questions.

So.

What do you do with a kid who HATES the physical act of writing, even if he can orally answer all the questions with plenty of detail. I never figured this out when I was a teacher and I can’t figure it out as a parent.

Side note: I would be a much better teacher today than I was back in the day when I knew jack squat about kids.

Seriously, these kids are expected to do the type of writing we were doing in seventh grade. They are capable of it, but it is a shock to my old brain.

Yet there is very little challenge with the math. Ugh.

At least this teacher understands Erik and is able to manipulate him like a master. Does that sound terrible? This child requires a lot of manipulation. He is . . . extra. . . as my friend calls him. It’s not that he’s bad. He’s just inquisitive, intelligent, and very, very opinionated. Very opinionated.

I just found out I’m getting a promotion in my MOMS Club volunteer job. Whoo-hoo! More work=/=more money when you’re a volunteer. I really love the volunteer job, though. I get to help chapters become better and help more moms. I know what a different MOMS Club has made for me, so I am more than happy to try to make that happen for other women. Plus? I’m bossy and need something to keep my brain engaged. This is probably one of my favorite volunteer jobs because it is all through e-mail and I can do it at my leisure.

I’m sure you think I’m being an ungracious political winner with that title, but no. This has nothing to do with politics.

I just scored the last spot in a parent’s day out program for two year olds! The program is reasonably priced, not too far away, don’t require potty training and doesn’t have a religious curriculum! This is the only program that fits all my requirements. They just started it three weeks ago.

As much as I love my friend and think she’s a fantastic teacher, this program is more what I’m looking for (one day a week, cheaper). I also worry that my friend plans to have 10 kids plus her 2 kids and no helper. Maybe if she gets it all set up and working, I’ll send Elsa to her in the fall. She is a fantastic teacher, but she is like me–very enthusiastic about her plans without really thinking everything through.

We had our preschool fair last night. I didn’t do all the work (amazing, I know. I have helium hand. It just won’t stay put when someone says “who can do this?”), but I did a fair chunk of it. I am SO GLAD it is over. We had a successful event in terms of getting vendors. We almost doubled the number from last year. Unfortunately we had very low attendance, which is still making me kind of sick to think about. We are planning on moving it to a Sunday afternoon next year, which is possible if we book the date now. Maybe that will help.

Mike was supposed to be out of town, so I signed up as the babysitter. This is the worst possible job for me because I am not fun. I have never enjoyed toddlers (except my own, of course). I ended up with one little boy and he was truly delightful. He was happy the whole time and listened pretty well. My own children? Gah. No. They were both completely melting down, especially Erik. The little boy doesn’t have any siblings or attend any type of children’s programming (except MOMS Club events occasionally). He’s a couple of months younger than Elsa and doesn’t really have anyone to practice certain life skills with. He kept hitting Elsa in the face (very softly) and I finally had to put him in a time out. He had no clue what was happening and just sat there, laughing happily. Before the mom came back Erik had a huge crying fit about this boy and how awful he was because he was “mean to my most favorite sister in the world!” Ahhhhhh. . . didn’t know he cared!

Like I said, the boy was a delight, but his mom left him an extra hour right at dinner time and everyone was getting cranky. I was not pleased. I found out later they kept telling her she could leave, but she hung around and acted like she didn’t have a need to come pick her kid up. I am not pleased.

I couldn’t really cook with him because I had to keep an eye on things. I put some water on to boil and the kid ran into the kitchen and stuck his hand on the stove. I was in shock because that is not something my kids would do. Made cooking very difficult! Thankfully he missed the burner, so wasn’t hurt.

His mom said he was a picky eater and that she had some food for him in his bag. I looked in the bag and pulled out jars of baby food. Again, my jaw hit the floor. He’s Elsa’s age. To each their own, I guess, but I will not sit around and spoon feed a neurotypical 2 1/2 year old jarred baby food. He did end up eating a banana, but even that was funny. I started the peel, then handed it to him. He had no clue what to do. He tried to eat the dangling peel. I ended up slicing it for him, which is something I have to do for Erik as well. Elsa takes care of her own banana needs and throws a little fit if I start the peel for her.

I am used to Elsa being very, very independent. Part of it is because I am trying very hard to raise independent children but part of it is also because she has a big brother. She wants to do everything he does, so she picks things up a lot faster than an oldest/single child. Also, as a second time mom I am much more relaxed and don’t have the time to do every little thing for her. It was exhausting having an extra kid around, especially a kid that I don’t know well.

Ok, now I have to go. I think I was going to write something else, but that was hours ago and I have no idea what it was.

I voted. Of course. You all probably have figured out I’m about as liberal as you can get (unless I was European), so you know who I voted for. I am on pins and needles, just waiting to hear what will happen to our country. Honestly, if Mitt wins it hopefully won’t be the disaster that was the Bush administration. At least Mitt is intelligent, even if he wants to throw women back to the 1950s. Or maybe that is even scarier? I must admit I am still shocked that a Mormon won the approval of the Christian Right. I haven’t been a part of a church for over a decadate so I guess I don’t know the current thoughts about Mormonism. When I was heavily involved in the church, Bible based Christians considered the LDS a cult. I remember one of our professors got in trouble when he said he didn’t think Mormons would automatically go to hell–they might just be able to make it to heaven if they had a good heart. So glad I am no longer a part of any organization that wants to condemn people to eternal burning and torture.

Here’s a moral quandary for you: the local LDS church is having a huge clothing drive for hurricane Sandy victims. I have a huge box of clothes that I want to get to the victims, but everything I’m reading says don’t send clothes. The relief organizations have different priorities and sorting clothes will just slow them down.

So. . . . do I take the easy road and take this giant box to the Mormons and hope they make it to people who won’t have to listen to a sermon to get help? Or do I keep searching for a better way to send these clothes? I am adamantly opposed to all forms of charity that involve the recipients listening to any kind of message. However, in this case I feel like the people are in so much need that I just need to get the clothes to them and forget about my principles.

Back to the election. Maryland had a really hot ballot this year. I was thrilled to be able to vote for gay marriage! I am hoping this one passes by a landslide. We also had to decide if undocumented immigrants who graduate from a Maryland HS can receive in-state college tuition.

The biggest campaign had to do with gambling. Some people want to put in a new casino near DC and have spent millions to try to make it happen. The casino owners in neighboring states have spent millions opposing the bill. Supposedly the casino would help fund schools. We get a gazillion phone calls a day from both sides. I voted no. Fundamentally, I don’t think increasing gambling is a good thing and I don’t believe the schools will see a penny from it. There’s a giant loophole in the law. Schools would get money from the casinos, but the state could take other money out of the education fund and put it elsewhere. It’s not one I really care about either way, but I had to pick a side.

The kids went to the polling place with me. There was a high school bake sale, so my kids got sugared up on a chocolate cupcake while we waited about 20 minutes. At least is kept them quiet. Elsa is pretty content in the stroller and Erik was totally excited to see what the election was all about. He came home from school last week saying we had to go vote for Obama because Romney wanted to take away PBS. I am hoping he heard that from other students, not from the teachers. Surely a teacher would not say something like that. He really, really wanted the election official to walk up to him and say “Hello young man, you look smart so you get to vote too!” He had a whole scenario planned out and went over the script in excruciating detail. If I wouldn’t have had Elsa with us, I would have let him cast the vote for Obama. But if he got to touch the screen, she would have wanted to touch the screen and the whole thing would have become a nightmare.

Speaking of Erik, he is starting to enjoy more imaginative play. I guess you would call it that. He likes to imagine a scenario and tell you exactly what will happen in the scenario, play by play. Last night he had to tell us every little thing he was going to do when he’s on Chopped. I think his retelling took longer than a regular episode. He’ll be making tacos in the first round, oatmeal in the second round, and dessert scrambled eggs in the last round. I’m glad he’s starting to do more pretend play. For so long he was only interested in running that I thought he was going to skip anything that involved imagining.

It will be interesting to hear what his teacher has to say at his conference next week. I know his weak point: he doesn’t like to write. It’s not so much the ideas, it’s the physical act of writing. Plus, the child can not sit still. I have been in his classroom a couple of times and he is by far the most wiggly, jiggly child in the room. I think some of the other kids are comatose. I guess I just got lucky to have a kid with a little “extra” as my friend puts it. Ha! I really do hope we can have a good discussion and I can get some idea about how he is doing in class.

I used to have these fancy visions of my kids going to the portrait studio and getting amazing, Anne Geddes quality photos while my kids behaved like little angels.

That vision should have been destroyed when Erik was a baby. The first portrait session was a nightmare, and nothing has really improved. We usually do end up with a few good shots, so it’s worth it. It wasn’t until Elsa came along and I suddenly had to wrangle two cranky children that I realized my life is not some rom-com family friendly, happy-go-lucky, aren’t-those-the-cutest-kids-hamming-it-up movie.

I’ve been dreading picture day for weeks, but I still insist that we go and get them done. I love the results. LOVE. I want to take beautiful pictures of my children, but I fully admit that I have awful photography skills. Everyone claims department store photo shoots are generic or cheesy or whatever, but I happen to like the pictures even if it is hell to get them.

Usually we can at least get out the door before the problems start, but not today. I wanted the kids to be shiny, so I gave them a bath. Elsa didn’t want to get out of the tub and got aggressive. Have I mentioned how fierce this child is? And strong? She pulled the shower curtain and brought the whole rod down on her head, leaving a big red mark. Thankfully it didn’t bruise.

While I was dealing with her, Erik was in the other bathroom making his hair “look sharp” with a pair of curved nail scissors. It is not a complete disaster, but he was angry because he couldn’t make his hair “sharp” enough and wanted me to try. Apparently “sharp” hair, is hair that is cut straight across the bangs. In my day we called that super-dork-o-rama hair.

Meanwhile, I was trying to comb Elsa’s wet hair, but her latest defense against the evils of grooming is simply standing on her head. Let’s get that hair nice and tangly!

Eventually I gave up and went to prepare an early lunch so the kids wouldn’t be hungry. While I was doing that, Elsa started screaming. Then Erik started screaming. Then they both appeared, and Elsa has a small, prickly round brush completely tangled in her hair. A case of the “Me do it!” struck again.

Eventually I got them both settled, fed, brushed and spritzed. Erik didn’t want to wear the sweater I wanted him to wear, but the other choice was waaaaaay to big and would have been silly. Elsa wanted to wear her princess dress, but I didn’t want her to wear it in the car. I have no idea how little girls are supposed to wear big poofy dresses and still use a car seat.

We arrived at the studio, and of course they were running way behind. Everyone and their dog (literally–a friend of mine was there with her new puppy!) was taking advantage of the no school day to get pictures done.

Somehow the kids held it together and it all worked out. We eventually had our turn and it was not a complete screaming disaster. Elsa didn’t start crying until the very end. Erik sort of listened to directions. It could have been much worse. Elsa is a wily little 2 1/2 year old, though, and would not cooperate at all. She really didn’t understand what she was supposed to be doing, and Erik did not help the situation by trying to overcompensate for her.

Still. No screaming!

And you know the best thing about not getting a load of really great pictures? Much easier to make a small order! Truly, you only need one good pic of each kid and one good group pic. What do you do with a million great pictures? I have memories of years past stored away in envelopes because I don’t have anyone to share them with. I have some of my very favorites displayed, but I could seriously wall paper my whole house in kid pics if I wanted. I think seven pics in the living room is enough.

There were so many good ones of Erik I’m really not sure what to do with them all. Start sending them out to model agencies? I am totally mommy-biased, but I swear he is such a good looking kid he could be on the cover of any magazine. Elsa is beautiful, too, but she does not enjoy having her picture taken. I wish I could get a picture that captures what I see when I look at her. Her expression almost always turns dark when the camera is turned on. Maybe next year she’ll be happier.

I stressed out over finding Elsa the perfect poofy holiday dress. I finally got her a pretty purple thing from Costco (because I’m fancy like that). I tried it on her and it fit, but it looked pretty ridiculous. She is just not a poofy dress kind of girl, at least not right now.

I just booked our portrait session for Monday and now I have to decide. Do I go with the poofy dress that doesn’t feel at all authentic, or a much more mild sweater dress that fits her personality better? I guess I’ll take both, but start with the sweater dress.

Still have to find something for Erik. You’d think it would be simple to find a nice gray sweater, but nope. They all have red or blue accents. I need purple!

I know, I know. There are people who have lost everything, and I’m sitting here complaining about finding just the right sweater. Believe me, if I could pack up all our extra clothes and blankets and drive it up to NJ/NY I would do it right this second. I have lots of friends with family who are out of their homes, will be waiting weeks and weeks for power, and have lost everything. My friends are saying that it is much too dangerous to go up there and deliver any sort of help. The roads need to be kept clear. The people living there need access to what resources they have. They do not need well meaning folks to come up and take away what precious little they have. The only thing we can do is donate to the American Red Cross.

I wasn’t going to respond to this person because she’s ridiculous and no argument will ever convince her that she’s not at the mercy of a cold, cruel world where the poor, poor Catholics are persecuted. I couldn’t stop myself. I really shouldn’t have done it. I like and respect the original poster. She is staying well out of it.

Original Poster: Day 2: I am thankful for being able to practice my religion without fear of persecution.

Poor Persecuted Person: I would be too if I were allowed to wish people a Merry Christmas without being called politically incorrect. But yes. Glad to be Catholic.
23 hours ago · Like · 1
Carrie P:. Being called politically incorrect hardly counts as persecution.
22 hours ago · Like · 1

Poor Persecuted Person You are 100% correct, Carrie. It does not even come close to what people around the world deal with. We do have freedom of speech and religion. I guess I’m just a little tired of those who try to limit how people celebrate their traditions by demanding that we water everything down so we don’t offend anyone.

Random Smart Person: I don’t know too many people who fuss over being wished a ‘Merry Christmas.’
11 hours ago · Unlike · 1
Poor Persecuted Person: Do you live in the Washington DC area? I think it is a regional thing.
9 hours ago · Edited · Like

Carrie P: I live in the Washington DC area. I’ve never heard a person complain about being wished a Merry Christmas. Some retailers have directed their employees to wish people a Happy Holiday to help maximize their income and help everyone in this very diverse area feel included–more inclusion=more money for the retailer. I don’t really understand how wishing a perfect stranger a Merry Christmas is an important part of your celebrations. Surely attending midnight mass, watching your children perform in their Christmas pageant, reading the nativity story with your family, lighting the star on your Christmas tree, singing Christmas carols, and eating a family meal together trump a simple “Merry Christmas” to someone who may or may not celebrate your religion.
7 minutes ago · Like