The other night I noticed a big ugly blob of red nail polish on the bedroom rug. Some people might panic... me, I was frustrated but figured it's one more piece of a neverending mess and besides, we are going to move, eventually. I scrubbed at it with acetone and a cloth diaper, but it didn't really help. Of course, none of my kids claimed responsibility.
It wasn't until an hour later that I realized that the 3 year old's toenails (and face it, most of his toes) were bright red.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Ugh
My 2 older kids go to public elementary school in NYC. It was just decided tonight that as of September, students will be wearing uniforms to school (style and color TBD). I am not happy - I am not a fan of uniforms, particularly in public school, particularly in GRADE school. But here in NYC, all schools have the right to adopt such a policy.
My son, who is going into 6th grade (and will graduate in a year) is excited about it. My daughter, entering 2nd grade, is not. I don't know how much of that opinion is truly hers, and how much of it was influenced by my rants and complaints in the weeks leading up to this decision. I let both kids know that if they choose to opt out, I will stand behind them. But I also said that if they want to feel like part of the "team" (the principal claims this will foster unity and school spirit) then they should go ahead and enjoy it. I am trying to be objective, particularly since my husband is the PTA Co-President... but ugh. Ugh ugh ugh.
My son, who is going into 6th grade (and will graduate in a year) is excited about it. My daughter, entering 2nd grade, is not. I don't know how much of that opinion is truly hers, and how much of it was influenced by my rants and complaints in the weeks leading up to this decision. I let both kids know that if they choose to opt out, I will stand behind them. But I also said that if they want to feel like part of the "team" (the principal claims this will foster unity and school spirit) then they should go ahead and enjoy it. I am trying to be objective, particularly since my husband is the PTA Co-President... but ugh. Ugh ugh ugh.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Bad Mom, June 2010 (with prior offenses)
Out in the little park, my kids playing contentedly... until one (or all) decide they are thirsty or hungry. Sometimes this happens on its own, sometimes it is when another mom pulls out the snacks and drinks. It happens even if they've just eaten in the apartment. It always leaves me feeling like a terrible mom for not carrying appropriate stocks of water, juice boxes, granola bars, or other munchies. (I first noticed this a lot when I was on maternity leave 3 years ago in the heat of the summer, but I guess I still haven't learned to be prepared.) Sometimes the other moms will share, but that only makes me feel worse.
The other day when my daughter started up, I told her that when I was a kid, my mom would routinely send us OUT to play. For hours. Without snacks. If we wanted a drink we would find a garden hose. I realize times have changed and I would not allow my 7 & 10 year olds (much less a 3 year old) to roam the neighborhood all day, but still. Am I really supposed to carry snacks with me everywhere I go?
The other day when my daughter started up, I told her that when I was a kid, my mom would routinely send us OUT to play. For hours. Without snacks. If we wanted a drink we would find a garden hose. I realize times have changed and I would not allow my 7 & 10 year olds (much less a 3 year old) to roam the neighborhood all day, but still. Am I really supposed to carry snacks with me everywhere I go?
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Random Observation, June 2010
My youngest, not quite three, can hum the Law & Order theme music. I noticed it the other day when he was humming along. (Ok, yes, my TV is often on inappropriate shows when the kid is otherwise occupied.) It's not actually a humming - sounds more like a creaky door - "Eh ehhh eh eh eeeh eeeh eeeeeh..." And then he cracks up.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Jones Beach Boardwalk, 6/13/2010
After a downpour, we ended up in the souvenir stop. Jake wanted a handball for $1.99 and had his own money. He promised to share the toy with Brandon. Sydney wanted a bag of fancy rocks (u-pick-em) for $4.99 - she didn't have her own money but promised to pay us back. I thought the rocks were silly, and the boys certainly didn't need another ball, but I let them go ahead, figuring this is how they learn the value of money.
As Sydney picked out her rocks (with Howard encouraging her to cram as many as possible in the little bag, while she was being much more selective), Jake and Brandon batted the handball around on the boardwalk. Jake moved quickly, bouncing the ball off the boards, the walls, his hand, while Brandon leapt after him, laughing, arms in the air. "Get it!" Jake would say, and Brandon would shriek with glee. Who can put a price on that?
As Sydney picked out her rocks (with Howard encouraging her to cram as many as possible in the little bag, while she was being much more selective), Jake and Brandon batted the handball around on the boardwalk. Jake moved quickly, bouncing the ball off the boards, the walls, his hand, while Brandon leapt after him, laughing, arms in the air. "Get it!" Jake would say, and Brandon would shriek with glee. Who can put a price on that?
Friday, March 19, 2010
Birth Day
I can remember the sensation of the air conditioner blowing on my neck... I was hot, sweating and the icy breeze was heaven. The Beach Boys were playing, though I don't remember the song. I was kneeling on the floor of the front passenger seat, a plastic Halloween bucket cradled in my arms, reminding my husband over and over - "Exit 25. Don't miss the exit."
I had labored all night at home, going from the tub, to the bed, and back to the tub. I was determined to wait as long as possible before heading to the hospital to deliver. I wanted to make it to the morning, wanted to deliver at an hour when my kids and my mom could be there. At some point the light began seeping through the bathroom window and I heard the birds singing and I knew I was at the finish line.
Things got intense very quickly and I remember waking up my husband, who had finally fallen asleep maybe an hour before... a neighbor came up to stay with the kids but first ended up helping me get dressed while Howard went to get the car, which was parked several blocks away. I struggled to get dressed between contractions. My oldest woke up briefly - I told him I was going and Nancy would watch them and they would be okay. I had so much wanted them to come with me but it couldn't happen now - it was too rushed, too intense.
Nan got me outside to the stoop and still no sign of Howard. I was sure that my youngest would be born on the steps but he finally rolled up and we were on our way. He had stopped for coffee. I have yet to forgive him.
I remember arriving at the hospital where Howard had to find a wheelchair and then push me. I remember the nurse's comments upon my exam: "Ten centimeters, fully effaced, baby at plus two station with a bulging bag." Relief flooded me. I had done it. Rushed to delivery where they insisted I sign the damn papers inbetween pushes. Delivery by an unknown doctor - mine did not arrive in time. A torturous aftermath where I could not deliver the placenta and they had to go in manually to get it.
And a baby boy, eight pounds, ten ounces, who had no idea of the chaos he'd been born into. Howard's eyes seemed to ask where he'd come from and why. I could only cry and hope that my husband's indifference and anger over the last nine months would evaporate the way his fear had with our older children.
I had labored all night at home, going from the tub, to the bed, and back to the tub. I was determined to wait as long as possible before heading to the hospital to deliver. I wanted to make it to the morning, wanted to deliver at an hour when my kids and my mom could be there. At some point the light began seeping through the bathroom window and I heard the birds singing and I knew I was at the finish line.
Things got intense very quickly and I remember waking up my husband, who had finally fallen asleep maybe an hour before... a neighbor came up to stay with the kids but first ended up helping me get dressed while Howard went to get the car, which was parked several blocks away. I struggled to get dressed between contractions. My oldest woke up briefly - I told him I was going and Nancy would watch them and they would be okay. I had so much wanted them to come with me but it couldn't happen now - it was too rushed, too intense.
Nan got me outside to the stoop and still no sign of Howard. I was sure that my youngest would be born on the steps but he finally rolled up and we were on our way. He had stopped for coffee. I have yet to forgive him.
I remember arriving at the hospital where Howard had to find a wheelchair and then push me. I remember the nurse's comments upon my exam: "Ten centimeters, fully effaced, baby at plus two station with a bulging bag." Relief flooded me. I had done it. Rushed to delivery where they insisted I sign the damn papers inbetween pushes. Delivery by an unknown doctor - mine did not arrive in time. A torturous aftermath where I could not deliver the placenta and they had to go in manually to get it.
And a baby boy, eight pounds, ten ounces, who had no idea of the chaos he'd been born into. Howard's eyes seemed to ask where he'd come from and why. I could only cry and hope that my husband's indifference and anger over the last nine months would evaporate the way his fear had with our older children.
Friday, July 17, 2009
No Rain
My youngest turned two last Saturday. Because we were out of town for an annual get-together on that day, we are having his party tomorrow.
I just realized that tomorrow is also two years to the day since his bris... It was pouring like I had never seen. We were leaving our apartment when my mother in law called telling me they might not make it because of weather. I got angry - "It's just a little rain!"... but even I couldn't imagine what was in for us on the road.
It took us 45 minutes to make what should have been a 10 minute drive... friends and family were stuck on the road for hours... and Husband and I were fighting and screaming at each other as we had been for months - for no reasons I can discern other than stress and fear - with the big kids (then 7 1/2 and 4 1/2) cowering in the back of the van.
The mohel called as we were arriving at the bakery to pick up the cake... at this point, we should have been at the temple half an hour already. He said, "Forget the cake, forget the guests... all we need is the baby," but I was distraught, crying. How could we do it alone? He was kind enough to change his schedule - he would leave for another appointment and come back to the temple later - AFTER the food - to do the ceremony. I sighed with relief...
When we arrived, a few guests were already waiting... others arrived in dribs and drabs... we did not want to serve the food until my father in law arrived to cut the challah... we were starving and stressed and the kids were wild... only the sweet baby slept and slept.
And finally we were all together and it was done, and when we left the temple, the sun was out and it was hot like any other July day.
The party tomorrow is in the park. Let's hope it doesn't rain.
I just realized that tomorrow is also two years to the day since his bris... It was pouring like I had never seen. We were leaving our apartment when my mother in law called telling me they might not make it because of weather. I got angry - "It's just a little rain!"... but even I couldn't imagine what was in for us on the road.
It took us 45 minutes to make what should have been a 10 minute drive... friends and family were stuck on the road for hours... and Husband and I were fighting and screaming at each other as we had been for months - for no reasons I can discern other than stress and fear - with the big kids (then 7 1/2 and 4 1/2) cowering in the back of the van.
The mohel called as we were arriving at the bakery to pick up the cake... at this point, we should have been at the temple half an hour already. He said, "Forget the cake, forget the guests... all we need is the baby," but I was distraught, crying. How could we do it alone? He was kind enough to change his schedule - he would leave for another appointment and come back to the temple later - AFTER the food - to do the ceremony. I sighed with relief...
When we arrived, a few guests were already waiting... others arrived in dribs and drabs... we did not want to serve the food until my father in law arrived to cut the challah... we were starving and stressed and the kids were wild... only the sweet baby slept and slept.
And finally we were all together and it was done, and when we left the temple, the sun was out and it was hot like any other July day.
The party tomorrow is in the park. Let's hope it doesn't rain.
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