Bah...Humbug...

Even my stars are crooked

I love the holiday season. I know, that seems counter intuitive considering my crusty exterior and all.  For Christ's sake (Yes, you too may marvel at my unintended pun), Thanksgiving has just been put in the refrigerator.   I tried to psych myself up by playing Christmas carols, living vicariously through my joyous daughter, but alas I am just too tired.  I can't count on the Hubby to help me get into any sort of spirit.  He begrudgingly assembled the tree, brought in the Christmas boxes and ran Flo Jo style (sorry Honey, but you do run like a girl) back into our bedroom to P90X it or whatever it is boys do behind closed doors.
Gone are the days of Norman Rockwell and June Cleaver.  From an outsider's point of view I am sure that I more closely resemble Peg Bundy.  My cleavage hanging out, derriere firmly planted to the couch.  Little do they know all of the crazy stuff that one can do from my little corner of the couch.

For instance:

Reindeer Noses

• I removed the noses from juvenile reindeer and bagged them to the delight of Maia's classmates.

• Note that each bag includes 8 brown noses and a single red schnoz. With 13 classmates, that means I had to snare, clean, & slaughter 117 reindeer. All from my couch. That takes quite a bit of planning. (Note the polar bear I managed to stuff in there as well).

Color Pencil Vase

 

 

 

 

•  As if that wasn't enough brown noses, I whittled this gorgeous vase for my daughter's teacher.

See, so I do just fine in my little corner.....

How We Got to this Point

Look Mom! I spelled that word I am not allowed to say... As Geoff giggles and waits for me to correct her spelling.

Above is a note left for me by my darling four year old as she proudly exclaimed, "Look Mom, I spelled that word I'm not allowed to say!"  Recoil with shame you say?!? Not me. No, no, no. I proudly posted it to Facebook for all to see.  But, as with everything, there is a back-story and it is said story that warms the cockles of my heart.  Maia did not set out to write "Fuk."  She was pulling letter stickers out three at a time and trying to make words from said letters.  It just so happened that with this draw she got a u, f, and k.  

So where does pride factor into the equation you ask? For one thing, my kid knew that vowels "are the glue that stick the words together." Secondly, she knows her vowels at 4. Crap, when I alphabetize things, I sing the ABC Song in my head.  Well, okay... sometimes out loud.  Lastly, she was able to sound out the letters to create a word.

If you are like me, you are rolling your eyes and saying, "Some genius, she didn't even spell the work correctly."  True, true.  Alas, we will not be sending her off to med school at 10.   As a diligent mother I felt it was duty to correct her spell.  Gasp! Relax we did not focus on the word at hand, but rather some clever rhyming words. So, from this moment of parenting horror, my child has a handle on the -ck blend.  Fuck yea!

Back Off Bitch!

Am I the only person that is seething with the desire to tell all helpers (be it human, webpage, or book) to go fly a kite?  I feel like such a twerp for having these feelings, but dear lord!  A nice lady decided to assist me today, despite my protests, and I think my toe is broken.  Not to mention the fact that I noticed she gave herself a hernia lifting the shopping bags I could have placed into the trunk myself.  I appreciate that she was kind enough to help out... really I do... but dammit when I smile and say, "No thanks, I got it." That should be ENOUGH!  Yesterday I was pretty sure my brain was liquifying in my skull and that little bugs were gnawing at my sinus cavity, I would have eaten her alive.  I cannot be held responsible for my actions under such conditions.
That being said, it is great that we live in a place where people seem to genuinely care about others. It really is. While in Philly, my trials were sometimes comic fodder for my neighbors.  I am still pissed off about hearing chuckles as I crawled into the house because I couldn't navigate the ice and being mugged while pregnant. But, I need a happy medium.
I am also frustrated with the webpages and books intending to help those of us with disabilities adapt to parenthood and the world at large.  It all seems so irrelevant.  Admittedly it is hard to appeal to the masses because our needs are so individualistic. But why suck so bad. Yes, I am just complaining, I have no real solution. I just needed a forum to rant. That is all....

Bring on the White Coats

I have been committed. Oh the humanity... Yesterday I started going to a personal trainer.  And today, I can't move. I didn't really think it was too rough of a session. After all, he mainly worked on stretching me. I thought that was more work for him than for me. But, I'm pretty sure he is still walking today. I'll be meeting him two to three times a week (provided I can get out of bed).
Why such drastic measures? For the last two years I have felt like crap. And with feelings of crappiness, comes the looking like crap.  It's a downward spiral, injury leads to lack of activity which leads to weight gain and more pain on my already taxed joints. I could just pop a pill and be pain free, but that is a crappy way to live.
I will update as I can. It takes a lot of guts to put myself out there and document my failures... 

Ewws and ahhs

I am a big fan of ooey gooey funness. Getting dirty is fun for kiddos and mommies (assuming you lack the Type A gene).  Maia and I love creating things, especially messes. We learned about color blending, rainbows, chemical reactions, etc through hands on experiments. It may not be rocket science, but simple and fun tasks introduce science and ignite an imagination of what could be.
At least once a week, Maia and I have a pseudo science time. To fully catch my craziness, I will create a new page, documenting our forays into science. Now, who wants to clean up our horror?

Slime

Battle Cry of a Liger Mom

No, this isn’t a post about Napoleon Dynamite’s favorite animal. Nor does it involve a lion. I am talking about the “Lazy Tiger Mom.” That is the simplest way to sum up my parenting style. I have noble ambitions, and strive for perfection, but oftentimes my sloth takes precedence.

While I was pregnant, Geoff really wanted a girl.  I tell you, he never met a little girl he didn’t think was sweet & adorable.  I really wanted a boy.  At 30, I still have “mother issues” and dreaded the teenage girl syndrome.  But thankfully, I was over-ruled and Maia entered our lives as calm as can be.  I don’t think a boy would have meshed well with my laissez-faire despotism. 

Admittedly, I have high hopes:  I want to rear the next Marie Curie.  Additionally, she must be well read and a musical virtuoso.  As such, I feel compelled to be the driving force in this little fantasy of mine.  Bring on Maia’s mommy issues.  

Reading

Reading fosters the imagination and opens doors to worlds I cannot bring to Maia. It is very important to me that she learn to read at a young age, and love to read.

This was the easiest goal to tackle, as I don’t even have to get off the couch. Maia and I read a lot together.  Books don’t create mess (until you amass over 200) and requires little physical effort from me (except for re-shelving).  I also appreciate that they introduce all kinds of subjects.

We started with the Your Baby Can Read system, but that wasn’t right for us. Sight words are great, but phonics rule my literary world. With that in mind I hit up Hooked On Phonics when all sets were 70% and bought each set. Leap Frog also has a great DVD set that help kids learn letter sounds.

Every day Maia and I would try to tackle at least one lesson in the workbook. Once Geoff showed an interest in her workbook progress, she really started speeding through the lessons.  In fact, I really appreciate Geoff stepping up to the plate there. Because both she and I were getting frustrated and lesson progress slowed. Unlike the typical Tiger Mom, I didn’t think it was worth my while to fight with her and force learning to read on her.  A while back I lamented to a friend that Maia had lost her eagerness to please attitude. I guess I was wrong and that she still has some left over for Geoff. Maybe being with her the most, I burned through my opportunities.

Now we are moving onto the First Grade Set.  She may not be a full fledged “reader,” but I am happy with our progress.   

Next blogging session, I'll tackle just how I intend to make a Curie of her yet...