Monday, December 24, 2007

My Milkshake Brings All The Boys To The Yard - whatever that means!!!

On Saturday, I got the opportunity to actually have a talk with my fantastic 13 year old stepdaughter. It wasn’t about how her dad smells or what movie star she has a crush on. No, it was an actual conversation in which I thought I actually made some kind of impact in her life.

Out of the blue she mentioned Jamie Lynn Spears being pregnant. So for the next 30 minutes we talked about it. I told her that I don’t think a 16 year old has the first inkling as to what is in store for her. Why would a young girl with a great future ahead of her have a baby now? Oni had some very good questions and comments. I am so very proud of her for having more of a brain in her head than some of the other teens out there. She said that she didn’t want to have a baby. She is scared of the pain. That is what most people looking towards motherhood see…the pain. I let her know that although the pain is basically enough to rip you apart, that isn’t what is the hard part. It is times like this conversation that are hard. It is no sleep and baking cookies until 1 am and not knowing where your kids are. That is rough. I told her that I was not so much upset that this 16 year old is having a baby, but the lack of responsibility. It is 2007, ya know? Does she not know that she can take a pill to prevent pregnancy? What the Hell was she doing not using a condom? Who does she think she is? Well, obviously like most teens, she thinks she is invincible…until about 12 weeks ago!

My conversation with Areyani turned to birth control when she asked “isn’t there like a vitamin you can take so that you don’t get pregnant?” Again, she’s 13 folks. I told her about the pill, that you take it everyday and it can help regulate your period and all the side effects that I experienced with it. I also told her that when she is old enough, I would have no problem taking her to get on the pill. I want her to be responsible. I want her to take her future into her own hands. I told her that when she thinks she’s ready for sex…that she should wait at least 2 more years. I am realistic, people. I know that I was too young when I had sex for the first time. I know that I cannot expect my children to wait until they are ready, because I am not sure we are ever “ready”. I will allow them to protect themselves and others and treat them with the respect that they deserve. However, I will not be taking her to the clinic ANYTIME SOON….like 4 or 5 years from now is good for me. I will schedule it.

So, to all those parents out there who are dealing with these issues. Talk to your kids. Tell them how it felt your first time. BE HONEST. Tell them what they need to know to protect themselves and maybe, just maybe you will learn a little something, too.

Mirth & Merriment…..and many, MANY CONDOMS!

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

How Do You Know When It's Love?

There is probably nothing I hate more than Moving. I added it up and it seems that since my son was born, we have moved 7 times. Good Lord! I am done. Of course, for now.

Saturday came and the forecast called for cold, windy showers. Great. Just what I wanted to hear. Well, my husband had worked until 4:30 in the morning, so I decided to move what I could while giving him some time to sleep and maybe he could be helpful the more sleep he had. The boxes were damn heavy! HEAVY! I moved box after box, forgetting of course, to eat.

When Anthony started to help, things got heavier. The refrigerator was heavy. The TV was heavy. The mattresses were a bitch! Am I complaining too much? I think not. But, low and behold…we moved everything…just the 2 of us! It was a great sense of accomplishment, not only to have moved everything, but to finally have moved…period! My parents are relieved that they have a house back that does not have screaming kids in it. My poor parents.

It was only after picking up the girls from Anthony’s grandmother that I realized that we hadn’t eaten all day. Matthew was tired, dirty and hungry. I was tired, filthy, dirty and sore and so was Anthony. The girls however were clean and fed and rested. We pulled in to McDonald’s and ordered up as many cheeseburgers as we had dollars and they were devoured before we reached home. I fed my children at 9:00 pm or so. We didn’t get the kids to bed until midnight and I stayed up until after that to at least unpack just one room.

On Sunday, there was no rest. We were up with the sun unpacking more boxes. How did we accumulate so much crap? Never mind, just unpack it!!!! We put up the Christmas decorations that we could find. The girls and Matt did the tree, which is lovely. I will have to post a picture tomorrow. Definitely can tell that kids put all the ornaments on.

On Monday morning, I woke up sore and ridiculously late to get the kids to school and me to work. As I rolled off the bed, my back screamed at me to lay back down, which I did. I called in to work basically saying that there was no way in Hell that I was going to be in. I got everyone ready for school got them to school came home from school and crashed. It was great. I got some sleep and I got the rest of things unpacked. Yes, everything is out of boxes that need to be and the rest are stacked up and waiting for a garage on site to open up and be filled up.

Yes, I am done with moving. Now comes the hassle of Christmas shopping, none of which has been done and there isn’t much money to do it with. The main thing I wanted for Christmas was my family and we are finally together. My daughters and son are together and my heart has never felt better.

With the drama of moving, comes the arguments between the adults that are doing the moving. But, none. Anthony and I have never gotten along better. I think we needed the stress off our shoulders of being a family apart. We both feel that has been lifted and we can finally try and save our marriage.


Mirth & Merriment!

Friday, December 7, 2007

Puff the Magic Dragon

Today is December 7th. It is a day that will live in infamy. However, for my family it is a day that ends infancy. The girls have started preschool. It is with a heavy heart and excitement that I announce that.

At almost 3, they have learned so much from us but it is time to let them spread their wings and explore new things. At their school, which is so incredibly cool (such a blessing!) they will be doing arts and crafts, science, ballet, music and dance, math and learning colors, numbers and shapes...the latter they already have down. I am thrilled that they will be around other kids and seeing what "school" is really like. I am sad that my babies, the very last from my womb, are old enough to have this experience.

In answer to your question, No. I have not cried. I remember when Matthew was just a year old, putting him in daycare and crying the entire day at work. I could not get to him fast enough. When I left, he was upset and the teacher did tell me that he cheered up after that. Yeah, right! But, anyway when I went to get him after work, he didn't want to come home with me. He was having too much fun with his new friends. I am hoping that happens when I pick the girls up tonight. It would be great to see them playing happily without mommy and daddy crowding over. They are so independent. Athena fell in love right away with the fact that the bathroom is specially designed for "little people". She couldn't get over the little potty's and sinks. Aliza sat down and started breakfast. There were no tears. No emotional good-byes. DAMN! I was so looking forward to them throwing themselves at my feet and begging me not to leave...but, no. Little Inependent Girls. They were ready for this. They have been ready for so long.

So I am half way through the day and I have called just once to check on them. That's good, right? Say, right?

Here is a great story from yesterday. The girls needed their second dose of the Hep A shot so I took them in. I didn't lie to them at all. They knew they were getting shots. Well, our Bean was first and she howled! I MEAN SCRRRRRREEEEAAAAAMMMMMEEED! Which scared the crap out of Aliza. But when I pulled her pants back on and took her down from the table, she was fine. No tears. However, when they poked Aliza, who resisted quite a bit, she hit the nurse. Athena HIT the nurse! She was angry. I believe her exact words were, while crying "Stop hurting my sister!" It was nice to hear that she cares that much, but deep down I realize that she doesn't really...she just wants to be the only one who can pick on Aliza.

We are also moving tomorrow. Yes, it's supposed to pour down rain and there isn't a lot of help, but we are moving. We will be together for Christmas. Wish us luck.

Mirth & Merriment

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Crazy Train

Have you ever heard something that you just couldn’t quite get your mind around? Something that blew you over that about 12 hours after you heard it, in the middle of a sound sleep you woke up and laughed about it? That would be what happened to me yesterday. Let me explain.

Three Words: Parent Teacher Conference. Now, when I saw the student in these cases, this was the day that my teacher told my folks what a crappy student I was, how I was always talking in class and that I needed to “focus” more on school than socializing. Yeah, ok…whatever. They were stifling my creativity. But yesterday, parent teacher conferences took on a whole new meaning.

My son’s second grade teacher showed me some of his test scores and classwork and a letter that he had written to me that said :

Dear Mom, thank you for coming to my conference. I like school, The subject I love most is reading. Books are great! I need to listen more to the teacher when she is talking. I will work on that. I love you.

Well. Who doesn’t love that, right? Afterwards, his teacher told me that his reading isn’t quite what she expected. Although he is far above grade level, he isn’t as advanced as his records from his previous school said. HUH? He reads the Harry Potter books. He is reading 5th grade books that we get from the library. How can he not be doing great? I chalked it up to all of the recent changes in his life and with us moving he hasn’t had a whole lot of stability. We are going to read a lot more! But, that isn’t what shocked me.

“But in Math…he is doing great!” “Above grade level!” “Needs to be in GATE Math!”
WHAT? MY KID? ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS?
I hate math. It is more than hate, really. Lunch with Hitler would be better than math for me. But, he is doing great and doing 3rd grade work already. She said he just breezes through his math class work and helps others in his class if they are having a hard time. I smiled, with a dazed look in my eyes for sure and said “Wow, that’s great!” but all the way back to work and through the rest of my day, all I could think was: Math, really?

Shoot to me sleeping soundly with a little girl in my arms, when I woke up laughing. MATH! REALLY? Of course after the initial laughter came fear. Because of my immense dislike for mathematics, how was I going to help him, when God forbid, they put him in Pre-Algebra in elementary school! What about Advanced Calculus as a freshman! OMG! I’ve created a math monster! Any of you who know me know that I did not quite excel at math in school. I don’t even remember how to multiply on most days. Thank God for the calculator at my desk and on my phone. But, how dumb am I going to look to this kid when I can’t help him with homework?

So, I will cross my fingers, pray for pencils with erasers and we will learn it together.

Mirth & Merriment…and fractions!