Fumbling on Friday

:: Chew on This
Chew Toys for Kids. My 5yr old is orally gifted. ‘Orally gifted’ is another way of saying, the kid puts everything in his mouth. We keep waiting for him to outgrow this sucking and chewing phase, though we’ve stop holding our breath.

His habit came to a head earlier this month, when his teacher found a rubber band in his mouth. ‘Danger. Danger. Danger Will Robinson.’ (How sad it is that many readers won’t have a clue about the “Will Robinson” reference. My age is ever apparent. I digress.)

After the rubber band incident, I made it my mission to find a chew toy my 5yr old could use to (safely) satisfy his addiction. And, I found it! Though, when I showed him a picture of the chew toy, he balked. Telling me he didn’t want it. My response? “Too bad, so sad.” I placed an order.

The order arrived. And, this just in …. he loves it! He is looking forward to taking his chew toys to school. We’ve been given the approval by his teacher and the school director. Apparently, the school was growing tired of losing rubber bands.

Curious as to what I purchased? Chewable Jewels, created by a dentist.

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Socks and blankets; fingers, too.
Anything is good, when you like to chew.

Paper and pencils, sleeves and string.
Clearly, chewing is his thing.

From hand to mouth, so it goes.
When it stops, no one knows.

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:: When I’ll get to it becomes I forgot it.
The boys wanted to light the candle in the pumpkin one morning. With the fast pace of week day mornings, I wasn’t sure lighting a candle was the best idea. In the back of my mind, I wondered if I would remember the candle was lit and blow it out before leaving the house. I told myself I’d get to it. Well, while driving the boys to school, I remembered I forgot to blow out the candle in the pumpkin. What I was going to do became what I forgot to do.

~

Joe had a field trip for school. I drove him to the location of the field trip, and I was told to pick him up at 12:30. I had a busy day, with work deadlines prior to Joe’s pick up time. I was confident I’d remember to pick up my own child, though I thought about setting the timer as a reminder. Later, the phone rang at 12:45. “Ms. Joe’s Mom? Are you coming to get Joe?”

~

Today I am helping Joe’s class with their Halloween Party. The party starts at 10:30. Due to the number of tasks I needed to tackle prior to going to his school, I set a timer to remind me about the party. I suspect the timer will go off soon, as the morning is passing quickly. In fact, a quick glance at my watch and “Crap! It’s 10:45! What happened to the time?! Crap! I forgot to click “OK” on the timer!”

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Trying to remember each item on the list.
Tying little strings around both of your wrists.

And during every task, you remember something new –
Though it was not included on the original ‘to do’.

With each and every side track, the time passes by.
You put your hand to your head and let out a small sigh.

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:: What I Know
This past weekend, I went out of town and spent time with a girlfriend of mine. We had a great time together doing a whole bunch of nothing. Well, included in the whole bunch of nothing was two great games of Scrabble, one in which I kicked her butt and one in which she kicked my butt. (Though her kicking was not nearly as hard as my kicking.)

In addition to enjoying the time together, I learned a few things about myself. First, because I am in a constant state of juggling during my normal day to day life, it takes me at least 12hrs to get to a point where I can start a conversation and follow that conversation to completion. What I mean by that is when I first started chatting with my girlfriend, I started one conversation, quickly turning a corner to another conversation, only to start a third conversation, simultaneously forgetting the original conversation. Fortunately, by Noon on day two, I was able to complete one conversation before moving to another conversation.

Second, I learned I am a walking ‘What not to wear’. This is not news to me. I believe I’ve admitted the fact in the Blogosphere before today. However, this past weekend, I had actually saw one of my ‘What not to wear’ outfits, and I shuddered. Funny thing about full length mirrors – you get to see what you look like. Fear not, with my friend’s blessing, I still went out in public looking perfectly horrid. I fit in quite well with others, though. I mean, we were just going to Wal-Mart. And, no, I have no plans of altering my ‘what not to wear’ style; instead, I’ll avoid full length mirrors. No need to give myself nightmares.

Finally, this weekend I learned that my friend and I both use the word “Really” when sarcastically questioning the judgment (or lack thereof) of someone’s decision making process. My friend and I said ‘really’ frequently. Seriously. Really. We said it all the time. It is an addiction. A really annoying addiction. Here are some examples:

“Really? You don’t think I know about how people say ‘Really‘? Really?”

“Really, Joe? You thought it would be OK to cut Charlie’s hair? Really?”

“Really Lenore?! You’re wearing that out in public? Really?!”

“Really? You think it is cute when your kid passes gas and says ‘I farted’? Really?!”

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What? I’m sarcastic?
You have a problem with that?
Oh Really? Really?!

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Be good to yourself, and be kind to others. No. Really.

There’s a rhino in the room

*Cough* *Cough*
*Sniff* *Sniff*
*Cough* *Cough*

Ah, the sounds of the season. Cold and flu season, that is. As parents try to cover up their sick child by saying, “It’s just allergies”, or “He/she is teething”, truth be told, your kid probably has a cold. Dun dun duuuuun! Lock the doors! Bolt your windows! God forbid you take your cold suffering child out in public. What will the neighbors think?

Don’t mind me, I’m just a working parent with kids in daycare and school, currently dealing with the shunning that comes to cold suffers. I’d like to think I run a tight ship; but in reality, I think at least one of my sails is not tied down properly. I’d call a repair man, but I have a cough – and I’d hate for him to catch my cold. Then again, I send my kids off to school and daycare when they have a cold, so I suppose I could invite the repair man onto this laden ship.

I think I will attached a scarlet colored letter ‘C’ on my chest and the chests of my boys, letting the world know we have colds. Better yet, just for me, I’ll attach scarlet colored ‘B’ and ‘M’ letters on my chest for ‘Bad Mom’; yeah – BM – I’m sure that would go over well.

Before I go too far on my rant (or have I already reached that point?), I’ll share some verbiage I found on WebMD:

“A little sniffle. A slight cough. “I don’t feel good,” says your child. Should this kid stay home, go to school, or go to the doctor immediately?

Usually, if your child has cold symptoms, the deciding factor is whether she has a fever too, experts say. If there’s no fever, it’s probably just a cold. So long as your child feels pretty healthy otherwise, it’s fine to send her off to school.

Children with bad coughs need to stay home and possibly see a doctor. It could be a severe cold or possibly bronchitis, flu, or pneumonia. But when the cough improves and the child is feeling better, then it’s back to school. Don’t wait for the cough to disappear entirely — that could take a week or longer!

This BM has no intention of keeping her kids out of school or daycare, while they battle their colds and are free from fevers or other infections. A cold is not also known as ‘common cold’ because it is some rare and deadly virus. Though I do understand, a common cold can lead to more serious illnesses such as croup. Croup is not a friendly virus. Croup is down right scary, and it is something my family has dealt with on several occasions. Rest assured, if the croup cough is heard, we take steps to isolate our kids from others. But a cold? Buckle up Betty, because my kid is going to daycare/school, and he may even sit by your child. Mwahahahahaa

And don’t waste your time asking me where I think my child found this lovely rhinovirus (or other cold virus). This BM is not on a mission to find the source of the virus. A wise teacher once told me, trying to pinpoint the source is like going on a witch hunt. Germs and bacteria are all around us. If the mail person is sick, she can transfer her germs onto the mailbox handle and the mail itself. If the UPS man is sick, he can transfer his germs as he smiles and passes you your latest purchase from QVC. And, let’s not even think about the grocery stores. Face it. You are surrounded. Surrounded. You should probably just stay in bed and keep your kids in their room.

Perhaps we could all travel in zones, just like airports have zones for various modes of transportation.
The Green Zone is for the healthy people of the world, who carry no bacteria, viruses or germs: Please breathe freely in the Green Zone.
The White Zone is for the people of the world who carry bacteria, viruses or germs. Please do not breathe in the White Zone.

(God help the person who is on the moving sidewalk in the Green Zone, when they cough or sneeze.)

My apologies if I sound cranky. It’s probably just allergies.

Regrets Possibly Pending

I have received many comments about my blog. Not surprisingly, some people worry that I share too much. When I started writing the blog, my husband’s main request was that I maintain a line of privacy – of sorts – with regards to how much information I share. And, according to my husband, I have not yet crossed the line (though I’ve come close); but recently, my husband did ask me to delete one picture I included in a post, and I deleted the photo without hesitation.

Earlier this week, I read another blogger’s post about things best left unsaid or unpublished. In fact, I read the post several times. And, though I do not fully agree with the author, I understand the points she is trying to make. And, I do believe her words should be heard, if only to keep things in perspective. So, I made myself hear her, and I made myself reflect on my writings. Are my regrets pending? Will I look back, when my boys are teenagers, college students, etc. and feel regretful for exposing my life (and the lives of my family) to countless people? Will the feelings of my sons be hurt, because I wrote about a day (or month) when they drove me crazy?

No, the boys do not have a say in what I choose to share. No, I am not asking them for permission to write about their life. Does this make me a bad Mom? Some may answer ‘yes’, but I answer ‘no’. I don’t know what my boys will think about what I have written and what I will write. I hope the boys find my writing funny and entertaining. And, I hope my boys find the serious posts heartfelt and honest, even if it hurts. [Note to self: Be prepared to read the previous sentence directed at you, when the boys release their ‘Tell All’.]

This life of mine is my reality. I am living my reality. And, I am doing the best I can for myself, my husband and my kids. There is not a doubt in my mind that my current reality is manageable because I write about it. This blog was created the beginning of this year, and though the I still run into speed bumps, I am in a far better place today, in part, because of my writing.

Today – October 20, 2010 – hundreds of thousands of young people across the USA are wearing purple to call attention to the deaths of six youths who committed suicide after they were bullied or harassed because they were gay or were thought to be gay. I mention the ‘day of purple’, because many of the bullying takes place in cyberspace via YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, etc. One need not be gay to be bullied; moreover, one need not be bullied or gay to consider and/or commit suicide.

What does the above have to do with my writing? I believe one benefit to writing is letting others know they are not alone. In the past, I’ve written about my own suicidal thoughts. In fact, when I wrote my blog about that dark period, some of my friends reminded me they didn’t like it when I went through that stage the first time, and they didn’t like reading about it again. Why? Because it made them uncomfortable. Words are powerful, whether spoken or written. Words are supportive, whether spoken or written. As cheesy as this may sound, words can be used for good or evil. When I write, I am trying to use my words for good. And, I hope my boys will learn something from my experiences, regardless of the actual experience. [Note to my boys: The previous sentence is not to be used as an excuse for you to feel it is OK to experience everything you want to in life, not while you are living under your parents’ roof. Keep it legal and safe, boys; and, follow directions.]

The blog I read earlier this week, that inspired my post today, dealt with a girl stumbling across a Christmas letter her Mom had written. The girl was hurt by the words her Mom wrote. I think it is important to add that this person found her Mom’s letter by accessing the Word document and figuring out the secret password. This was not some random letter her Mom left out for all to see; although, it was the Christmas letter . . .

Still, it brings me to another point, when your feelings are hurt because you went out of your way to find the meanness, you looked in nooks and crannies that did not belong to you, you picked the locked which was intended to keep the thoughts private – is it fair to attack the writer? And, that is a question I ask myself, because I wrote You are what you seek after I felt bullied by someone. But, in my post, I made the point that I was responsible for going out of my way to find the mean words. I sought it out – found it – didn’t like it – and wrote about it. In addition to calling out the person, I was calling out myself. I was holding myself accountable for actively putting my nose where it didn’t belong.

Being a bully is wrong. Using words (spoken or written) to hurt is wrong. Again I ask myself, will I regret these posts in the future? I don’t think I will. And, I don’t think my boys will react negatively to what I have written or may write in the future. Time will tell. In the meantime, I will continue to live this reality as I know it, making sure my husband and boys know I love them with all my heart, even when I have bad days.

Then again, aside from knowing I love my family, what do I know? I currently have two part-time jobs, one of which is from 11pm until 7am, two nights a week. The lack of sleep is turning my brain to mush. When I started this post, I am sure I had a point, but the point may have been lost – like my sleep. Oh, and if you are interested in reading the post I mentioned titled “Things best left unsaid (or at least unpublished), you may do so by clicking here. Good night. Oh wait. I’m working tonight. *sigh*