January 31, 2008
Phototopia
That is totally a word, in case you were wondering.
I've just uploaded a bunch of photos from the weekend. They were mostly from Sunday, when we were cruising around the park. Seriously good times. If you'd like to see them, just click HERE. Comments are welcome (hint).
On Saturday, I took a rump load of photos of all of the teams. It seems that my memory card decided to have a fit (just like a woman) and get its panties in a wad. I was able to retrieve ONE photo from that card. I'm hoping that the other parents will have more to share.
Happy!
Things here are moving right along. The toe is healing and if you were to listen to Meelie, it's all better. "So can I go jump on the trampoline now?" This kid is testing my limits. She knows just what buttons to push and by the time she's through, the fuses are all blown. I'm having a hard time making her realize that the more careful she is with the foot, the quicker she will heal. Of course, this theory is blown right out of the water because she seems to be one of the lucky ones that heals really fast. Lord love a duck.
Besides the fracture of the big toe, and the fact that I'm NOT letting Meelie do anything (because I live to make my daughter's life miserable, doncha know?), Chickie got some awesome news last night. She found out she was picked for a solo for the big recital in spring. She's been dancing for five years. It's always been a goal for her to be in a solo, but the funny thing is, she's always been happy for the kids who have been picked in previous years. She just loves to dance that much. She came running in last night after dance practice and was screaming at the top of her lungs. I thought perhaps that Hillary Clinton was ahead in the polls, or her best friend died. I'm not sure which would be worse. She found out that she had been picked for a solo piece, BUT the teacher wouldn't tell her which dance it was for. They aren't going to announce the solos until February, so she should find out then. That, of course, didn't stop Meelie from giving her opinion. I'm thinking it doesn't really matter to Chickie. She's stoked.
We've got a busy weekend ahead of us. Saturday, Meelie has a Reading Bowl Competion, and the we have to head on out to her cheerleading competition on the island. At least this one is only an hour away. I'm interested to see how the coach is going to integrate a child with a designer shoe into the competition. I'm hoping to get some better pictures of this one.
That's about it for now. I'm just focusing on making it through the weekend. How about you?
Posted by Moogie at 8:03 PM | Comments (3)
January 29, 2008
The princess and her new shoe
Meelie had her cheerleading competition at SeaWorld this weekend. It went really great and her team did well. I’ll talk about what is left of my hearing in another post.
We had to be at the park at o'dark thirty to pick up our tickets and get the schedules. The competitions were delayed off and on all day due to rain, until they finally called them, and said they would continue the next day. That was fine because Meelie was all done. Which meant we could spend some leisure time at the park on Sunday to see what we had missed. We'd seen some of the attractions on Saturday, before we had to be at the stadium.
Saturday night, we went to dinner at a really fun place called Gatorsville, which was actually located on the hotel grounds! Yay for not getting lost again in Orlando! We stopped off at an ice cream parlor (also on hotel grounds) and took a nice walk around. When we hit the room, the girls were more than ready to fall asleep. So was I for that matter.
Then came the accident. Sunday morning, Meelie was standing by the bed and she jumped on it, the intent being to land on her tummy. The only problem was that her whole body didn’t hit the bed, just up to her hips, and her legs went down and her feet hit the floor. Her big toe on her right foot took the brunt of it. She said it just hurt a bit but as time wore on, it became apparent that it was a lot worse than that. Chickie said she heard a loud smack.
It wasn’t long before she said she wanted to go home, but I have to admit, she hung in there for a long time. She really didn't want to miss anything. We headed on out to the car and then towards home (I sort of got lost and suspect I took the long way to I95…but hey, I made it).
By the time we arrived at Chez Moogie, Meelie was really hurting and her big toe was rather swollen.
So yesterday, we spent the day at the doctor’s office, and then the orthopedist's office (after x-rays revealed a hairline fracture!). Long and the short of it is, she has a “designer shoe.” It really helps her walk. She’s having a tough time not being able to do anything “fun.” I’ve already caught her riding her scooter and she’s asked me over and over again if she can jump on the trampoline. She’s a tough cookie.
I spoke to the coach (cheer leading) tonight and she has said that Meelie can still compete. She'll just go through a lot of the motions of the dance moves and such. I'm not sure how that will work out, but I figure, she's probably experienced a lot of injuries with kids, so she knows what she is doing. Needless to say, Meelie is thrilled. She's at practice right now and I can't wait to hear how it all turned out.
Here is a picture of our princess, with her new designer shoe. Sissy has promised to help her decorate it tonight after they both get home.
If you'd like to leave a comment for Meelie, as a way of encouragement, or to share your stories when you have hurt yourself, please do so and I'll make sure to print them out and show them to her. Please emphasize how important it is to DO WHAT YOUR DOCTOR TELLS YOU and that, perhaps, jumping on the trampoline or doing cartwheels may not be such a good idea.
Posted by Moogie at 7:28 PM | Comments (9)
January 23, 2008
You always liked her better
For whatever reasons, my girls are having difficulty getting along right now. I don't know if it's because of the weather (colder than usual), hormones or the alignment of Mars but I can't wait until we get past this phase. The constant bickering accompanied by the occasional slap or pinch is driving me nuts.
It seems to be worse with Chickie, who is at that ripe, loving age of 13. I can do no right. The other night, I was putting some laundry away, and the girls were at it again. I was trying to see if they would work it out without my crisis intervention skills being required. Out of seemingly nowhere, I heard a loud slap, followed by silence, and then the deafening scream of my youngest daughter, Meelie. I didn't have to wait long to see what happened, because she came sobbing through the bedroom door, eager to tell me how horrible her oldest sister is.
Meelie: She HIT me.
Me: Why did she do that?
Meelie: For no reason! I was just standing there minding my own business.
Me: I see.
Chickie: Oh give me a break! I barely touched you!
Me: Then why did I hear the slap all the way from the back bedroom?
Chickie: I just threw a piece of paper at her.
Me: That must have been one big piece of paper.
Chickie: I didn't.....
Me: That's right. You didn't. You didn't think. You know my rules on hitting. Go to your room.
Chickie: But...
Me: NOW!
Chickie: How come you never do anything to Meelie when she hits me? You never send her to her room! It's becoming clear to me that you favor Meelie over me! (she really said it that way).
Me: I'm sorry you feel that way. You know that's not true, n.....
Chickie: Yes you DO!!! She can do whatever she wants to? But me? If I even breathe wrong, you're all "go to your room, or you’re grounded!"
Me: I'm not going to argue with you. Go to your room! NOW!
Chickie: FINE!!!!
SLAM goes the bedroom door!
So now my secret is out. I love my youngest daughter the most and NEVER, ever make her face the consequences of her actions. I never send her to her room when she is in the middle of a complete breakdown or the pitch of her whine reaches a tone that is surely to burst my eardrums. I never yell at her, or make her do any chores. She just gets to sit around all day and do whatever she wants. Like play on the Wii or watch TV. Her sister, on the other hand, is the Cinderella dreams are made of. And I am the evil Step-mom.
I'm so glad I've gotten that off my chest. I feel as though I have been set free. Now all of you know my secret.
Please feel free to tell me I should be ashamed of myself.
Posted by Moogie at 8:32 PM | Comments (3)
January 21, 2008
Single parenting
This weekend, my husband traveled south to the Ft. Lauderdale area to attend a memorial service for his Aunt. His father is unable to travel great distances, and asked him to stand in for him. My husband was more than willing to do this, even though he hadn't seen her in at least 10 years. He left Friday, and returned Sunday which meant I was on my own for the weekend.
In all honesty, it's not a big deal for me. The girls are old enough that they do not require supervision (me keeping them in my site) during all waking hours and have many friends to play with. And play they do!
What I find most irritating is that I am someone who likes some type of structure. I'm very flexible, and able to change where required, but I like to at least start off with a plan. Herein lies the problem.
I am not fortunate enough to be a stay-at-home-mom. This is perfectly acceptable to me. I came to terms with it long ago. If I were to be quite honest, and this will probably irritate several of you, I don't think I would be happy staying at home. I enjoy the stimulation of a challenging work environment. I would need to do something, even if it was being an active participant of some charity, or at the very least, work part-time. I like working. I would even go so far as to say, I love working. Do I still have days where I would prefer to stay home? Absolutely. Do I look forward to retirement (waaaaay down the road)? Most definitely. I always enjoy the time I spend with my family on holidays, and various days off. They come in short bursts, and I'm always happy to go back to work, yet kind of sad at the same time. That last sentence didn't make a lot of sense, but it's how I feel.
Sorry, got side tracked. Where was I?
Oh yes. Structure. Schedules. I'm more than capable of flying by the seat of my pants, but I try to keep those situations to a minimum. Short bursts of single parenthood allow you no time to get into any kind of a "groove." I am so used to having a partner who helps me out it throws everything out of whack. It's not impossible to take care of everything by yourself, but if you're not used to it, it can be a little nerve wracking. Take this weekend for instance. Shuttling the kids around to their various activities was quite taxing on mad scheduling skillz. The bathroom toilet clogged up. Twice. Once, dumping water all over the floor. I don't even want to talk about the leak coming from somewhere in the refrigerator. Kudos to all of you single parents who handle all of this on a daily basis.
It takes a day or so to get my feet back underneath me, and then what happens? My husband comes home and promptly messes it all up by being there. Which just means I have to adjust all over again. The poor man can't win (Hi honey!).
So now he is back. We are are a whole family again. The kids happily played Wii with their friends, and I made homemade pizza.
Oh, and got to go to work today, which means has both the kids to himself (plus two other kids). He definitely will have his work cut out for him.
Posted by Moogie at 6:57 PM | Comments (1)
January 20, 2008
Taco Bell and CSI
The females in this family have a wild fascination with all things CSI. There are enough reruns presently showing to more than feed our addiction. Though my youngest daughter spends the better part of every show with her face implanted in my armpit, she is still an avid fan.
On Saturday, the girls and I (and one friend) went to Taco Bell for lunch. The discussion turned animated as we talked about TV shows, and even more so, as we realized everyone at the table enjoyed a good dose of dead bodies, and the people who collected evidence to determine who the culprit was. Cool beans. Now THIS was a conversation I could get into. We talked about favorite episodes, in detail, and shuddered together over the ones that, quite simply, freaked us out.
As we munched on our tacos it occurred to me that this was perhaps not the best of mealtime conversations, but quite frankly, I was too caught up in the moment to put a stop to it. Or at the very least, get them to lower their voice. Something that would cause my father to say "One lung kids! Use one lung!" This was something I could participate in, and participate in I did. We all tried to talk over one another, and at one point, I had to admonish them to talk one person at a time. I was in no hurry to go home. The weather here is wet and cold, and we were warm and dry, discussing the episode where they found a brain in the bushes, or the one where the Priest crucified a woman on a cross.
When we were cleaning up our table, I happened to glance around and realized that we were in the midst of rush our and Taco Bell was nearly full up. It was a that time that I came to my senses, and seriously hoped that we didn't cause anyone to lose their appetite.
I gathered the kids up, we threw out the trash and beat feet for the door. My guilt didn't last long because when we got to the car, we started talking about Crossing Jordan, and the episode where the murderer would bury women alive in a box, with a walkie-talkie attached to their hand so that he could listen to them plead for their lives, and ultimately, die due to lack of oxygen.
I have got to stop watching those shows. Nickelodeon anyone?
Posted by Moogie at 6:37 PM | Comments (1)
January 17, 2008
Your mother did it
When I was in my early 20's, and my parents and I both lived in California, my father and I would carpool into work. On most days, Dad and I would eat lunch together as well. I really miss that. On just about every Friday, we would stop off at a mom and pop ice cream shop and get cones. It never failed that one of us, generally Dad (hi Dad!), would spill some on our shirt. We would always joke that we didn't want Mom to find out that we'd gone for ice cream, and 9 times out of 10, we would get busted. I don't remember how that started, and obviously my mom didn't care, but it became one of the family traditions.
When I would pick up Dad in the mornings, or the other way around, Mom always had some type of breakfast for us. Fruit, with some toast, or cheese. Something light but I remember it was always good. Dad and I would share it on the way in. There is no better way to start your morning.
Most afternoons, I would drive home, no matter whose car we took. Dad had a down (sp?) jacket that he wore quite often, even when the weather was warm. I never did figure out why he just didn't take it off on the ride home. He would get hot, so he would turn up the air conditioning to full blast. He had a Ford Mercury at the time, and the air conditioning in that thing would turn snot into icicles. No joke. I would be freezing to death all the way home. The hairs on my arms got so cold, they froze and fell off. They are just now starting to grow back. To answer your question, no, I have NEVER let him forget it.
Not only did ice cream end up on shirts, so did various other foods. I remember growing up (and it still happens), my mom or dad would get some food on their clothes. Dad would always blame my mom. "I wish you would stop flinging your food at me." It was just a normal part of the routine that was dinner time and I enjoyed, and still do, the easy banter between my parents.
The other day, the girls and I were eating breakfast at Huddle House and Chickie, who slathers her hash browns with Ketchup, dropped a fork full on to her lap. Imagine my delight when she turned to her sister and said: "Meelie, I wish you would be more careful when you are eating. Please stop throwing your hash browns at me. Mom just cleaned these pants."
Posted by Moogie at 6:36 PM | Comments (2)
January 16, 2008
Meanest mom on the planet
Now this woman has it right.
That is one tough consequence, eh Chicka? Hat tip to Buffi for the link.
Posted by Moogie at 5:17 PM | Comments (2)
January 15, 2008
Catch as catch can
During the week, dinner can be somewhat a catch-as-catch-can kind of thing. The girls can't eat a full dinner before cheer/dance, but are seriously hungry when they get home (even with a snack before they go). My husband, if I ignore him, could be left completely at the wayside. Luckily, I rarely forget.
More often than not, on nights such as these, I throw him a meal together. He is so easy. I know what to stay away from (very little) and he is so grateful to have any kind of a dinner. Let me say here that he is more than capable of fending for himself, but I kind of like making something up for him. He is always so appreciative. He always tells me how good dinner is. Even if it's just a can of soup that I've doctored up in one way or another.
Meelie is just like him. She'll eat just about anything. In fact, she eats better than my husband, and that's saying a lot. Chickie is getting there. She's always been my picky eater, but she's working on it, and has been brave enough to try new things. I'm very proud of her. She's very much like me. We both hate the majority of vegetables.
How about your family? Do they all eat well? Are there any picky members? What do you do when you have to be a short-order-cook on the nights when everyone is running in a different direction?
Posted by Moogie at 8:12 PM | Comments (5)
Go back to bed, says I!
It's probably best if you go back to bed and hide under the covers if:
- You think you hit the snooze alarm, but in reality you turned it off and woke up 45 minutes late.
- Your hair dryer has decided that it will not work, even though you tested it out on 5 different outlets, just in case.
- You have to go to work with wet hair.
- It is 36 degrees F outside.
I should look on the positive side though (glass half full). I was only 2 minutes late to work.
Posted by Moogie at 8:35 AM | Comments (2)
Dear Children
Dear Children,
The laundry hamper in the bathroom is to be used only for dirty clothes.
The trash can is for garbage.
From this point on, let's try not to get them mixed up.
Love,
Mama
PS: Sliverware does not belong in the hamper either.
Posted by Moogie at 8:34 AM | Comments (3)
January 14, 2008
Shopping with a 13 year old
I could really stop right at the subject. For those of you who have girls in that Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde wonderful, loving, soothing age group already know what I am talking about. But for those of you who are clueless, let me help you out.
- The jeans are too dark.
- Conversely...the jeans are too light.
- I don't like the way the legs flare out.
- There are too many polka dots.
- Eww, too pink.
- That's just not my style.
- I don't like the strap over the top of the shoe.
- Too much lace on the top of the tank top.
- I don't like the material.
- These flip flops don't fit just right.
- Flowers? Mom, I'm not that old.
- I don't like the back pockets.
Does this sound familiar to any of you? And for those of you with toddlers, you may want to invest in a personal shopper. Or buy a lot of wine.
Posted by Moogie at 4:25 PM | Comments (5)
January 10, 2008
As the world turns
I went back to work today. Yawn. I had to forgo the usual nap, though truth be told, over the last week or so, I had been forcing myself to stay awake during the day, and not go to bed until at least 9:00 p.m. It is now just a little bit after 7:00 p.m. and I'm ready to sink my head into a pillow and drift off into never-never land.
When I came in this morning, I was really discombobulated and generally had no idea where to start. Then there was the influx of folks coming to welcome me back, ask how I was feeling, and poke their noses into exactly what my problem had been. After about the 4th person, I wanted to just say, "I was sick, I got better, the end." I must admit that the interest was flattering but, because I am infused with a lack of self confidence, I wondered if they weren't just trying to get the low down on what was going on. The communication in my department on things such as this is basically nada, so no one really knew if I had taken a page out of Miss Spears' book, and checked myself into a drug rehab facility. Who knows? After all, I am from California.
I had 1,293 emails waiting for me upon my return. Yes, you read that right. It took me a large part of the day to go through them all. My boss, bless her heart (I owe that woman ALOT for the way she covered for me - no joke) had forwarded my phone to hers during my absence so at least I didn't have to deal with the voice mails. She took care of all of the problems, and those that had to wait until my return were meticulously jotted down on paper so that I knew exactly what had to be done.
It feels so good to be back (though I miss spending time with the girls), and I'm much more grounded now that I have some type of schedule to adhere to. It also helps me figure out what day of the week it is. If I were lucky enough to be able to stay home, I could develop some sort of a schedule. I would have to sleep with my calendar (sorry honey, but there is the fold out couch in the sun room), but with the inevitable return to work, I found it impossible to adhere to anything.
All is well though. The kids are back to dance and cheer, my husband is again, working hard on the flooring and I am once again, taking up residence in the kitchen. I didn't realize how much I missed cooking, especially now that I'm not living on Jell-O and Popsicles.
Posted by Moogie at 7:16 PM | Comments (1)
January 9, 2008
If I was any better, I'd be twins
Dear 2007,
I had such high hopes for you. Things were really going great for me up until the end of November, when you lost all control and dropped a bomb that caused me to crash head first into a brick wall. Perhaps that is an overstatement, but from where I sit, the description is particularly apt. Thanks so much for bringing me back to reality because I was thinking life was pretty good up to this point.
Dude. That whole, "let's hit her with a particularly nasty case of diverticulitis when she's not looking" move was pretty smooth, but nasty on your part. Because of that, I ended up unexpectedly having a special room with my name on it in the hospital for five days. I have to say, I love the way you played the no food, no drink game. Good stuff. You are smooth. Let's not forget the 2:00 a.m. Lord Love a Duck, we need to change the IV sight, but goodness, we cannot find a vein trick. Loved it. My arms were the color of a rainbow for weeks afterwards. I'd be remiss not to complement you on the fact that you kept me pretty much on my back, albeit in a recliner, for the next three weeks. I can't tell you how much I love, love, love that recliner, especially because I got to sleep in it for weeks after I came home. But I showed you!
I stuck to the treatment plan, eating pudding, Jell-O, soup, popsicles and sipping on hot tea. To this day, I have not been able to drink coffee, but hey, less caffeine so that's a plus. And I walked to gain my strength, even though it would leave me breathless an in pain at first. Each time I did it, I got stronger.
We spent the holidays with my family and had a wonderful time despite your determination to destroy it. Yes, I missed band concerts, chorus concerts, dance performances and the first cheer competition, but even you couldn't stop my friends from stepping in when my husband was required to be more than one place at the same moment in time, when I was unable to help.
After all these weeks, I'm finally fairly close to normal though I do sometimes battle some discomfort, which can, on occasion, turn into pain, but I am getting there. I'm going back to work tomorrow and this fills me with excitement, as well as dread.
So, my dear 2007, it is without regret that I bid you adieu, and look forward to a better 2008.
Love,
Moogie
Posted by Moogie at 6:07 PM | Comments (4)
