My Daughter Doesn't Love Me

Lilly's going on a field trip. My first born is going on her first field trip. And she doesn't love me and this is how I know:

It all started with Mrs. M's kindergarten class walking out of the door onto the playground singing about a field trip to the awaiting parents. I smiled, but really the nerves had already kicked in. Isn't she too young? Are they going on a bus? with no seat belts? WHO'S GOING TO WATCH MY CHILD? These are the thoughts that ran through my head before Lilly even told me about the field trip. When she actually came through the gate and saw me, she excitedly told me that her class was going on a FIELD TRIP!!!! to a MUSEUM!!!! and they were going to see CLIFFORD THE BIG RED DOG!!!! "Oh, that's great," I said and ushered her to the car.

Once safely inside I took out the paper to see the date of this horrible field trip and exclaimed, "Hey maybe dad doesn't work that day and I can go with you!" I'm finally feeling better here, but as I turn to look at Lilly sitting in her carseat, I see her forlorn look and a sulking head and then her eyes gaze up at mine and she whispers, "I don't want you to come."
"WHAT!?!?!" I yelp and then she repeats those words, "I don't want you to come." Now, I had a choice here, I could either try to make her feel really bad for not wanting me around and for hurting my feelings or I could take the high road and be totally cool so that she can see what an awesome mom she has and then she would realize that of course she wants me around forever and ever and always. It was a conscientious decision and I went with the former. I told her how badly that made me feel and how sad I was, but I did stop short of telling her that I've sacrificed everything for her and that my body will never be the same because of having her because I thought that was overboard. Nevertheless, she didn't waiver. I even pointed out to her that I wouldn't be going to ruin her fun, it was actually to help her teacher handle all the kids and I took out the paper which asks for volunteers as proof. Still, nothing from my I'm-actually-a-teenager-trapped-in-the-body-of-a-5-year-old daughter. When we got home and I went to look at Kelly's work schedule, I prayed I'd be able to go just to really make her mad, but sadly for me, Kelly had to work. I glared at Lilly when I gave her the news, "Well, you'll be glad to know that dad works that day and I can't go on your field trip." And do you know what that little stinker did? She started to smile. It was a slight upturn of the corners of her mouth, not obvious, but victorious. I knew then that she doesn't love me anymore. So where did I go from there?...

Naturally, I have tried to make her feel guilty any chance I get. I told her that her little friend was happy her mother was able to go and still Lilly said nothing. Oh the pain! the pain! I guess it's a good thing I have other children who will hopefully love me. You can be certain, however, that I will do everything in my power to be a chaperone on every field trip and school dance as Lilly goes through her schooling years. It shall be a sweet revenge!

The Case of the Broken Bu Folly

It started when Abe was an infant. Two weeks after his birth, Kelly left to start a new job in a new state and Abe didn't sleep. I remember laying beside him on the bed popping a pacifier in his mouth over and over again until he finally took it and I could sleep for 20 minutes. It started there, but it soon turned into a baggie with 3 newly washed pacifiers accompanying us on every trip whether it be to California or the supermarket. Lilly would cry, "Mom, please make him stop crying," and I'd reach back to his carseat with my right hand, feel around for his mouth with the pacifier and hold it in place until finally he'd hold it there on his own, all the while driving with my left hand and a lead right foot urging us down the road at a slightly accelerated speed praying we'd all make it there alive. Then as he grew, it turned into just a sleep aid. But then, Oh then!, I bought a blue pacifier and it became a best friend. As we'd go up the stairs for a nap, he'd happily chant "bu folly, bu folly." When I needed some quiet, I relied on the magic of bu folly to quiet my boy so I could think. Putting him to bed was a cinch because he loved being reunited with his bu folly. It was not only his friend, but mine as well. Then came the trip to the dentist...

We realized then that Abe couldn't even close his mouth all the way. His endearing crooked smile wasn't actually a good thing and needed to be corrected. It was time. After all, he was 2 1/2. I knew I had to be the one to do it. If Kelly took it away and it caused my boy any pain, I'd blame Kelly and get mad at him for doing it the wrong way. So, this was my plan: I had to wait until Abe made me angry enough. Then, out of frustration, I would snip the tip to bu folly. I couldn't do it any other way. I had to be mad otherwise how could I do such a cruel thing? Well, it was only a matter of time, and then, out of frustration towards me because I told him no over something, he walked to the table, and with glaring eyes he picked up his half eaten bowl of cheerios and dumped them all over the table, chair and floor. Here was my chance. I took him to his room, got the pacifier, got the scissors, took a moment to realize exactly what I was doing and then I cut off the top (without him seeing of course). It was done and there was no turning back.
For the rest of the day everytime I looked at that adorable little face, my heart broke. What had I done!?!?!? I knew in the long run it was the right thing, but I was just sick when I looked at his big eyes and crazy hair. Then night came and while putting on his pajamas I told him I had some bad news. "Bu folly broke, " I said. I showed him and he tried it out and would spit it out not understanding what was going on. He wanted it fixed and I explained that no one could fix it. As I sang him songs, he'd interrupt me every other line and we'd talk about bu folly as if giving it a eulogy. Still unsure, I put him in his crib and he fell asleep. That night, around 11:30, I woke up to him groaning. Kelly went in and rubbed his back until he fell back to sleep. The next morning he woke up crying, head buried in his hands, for his bu folly. Nap time was difficult for a few days, but a new routine of singing and rocking in the rocking chair has helped as he adjusts to the new way of life. And even though he nearly every day asks about bu folly, he is doing quite well. Soon it will be but a faded memory and then he'll only remember his friend through photographs. So as this chapter of life comes to a close, we'd like to bid a very fond farewell to Abe's first best friend-

Adios Bu Folly!

CHEESE!!!!

Conversations With My Neighbor

You know her from this and this. Here's what she said to me (the very first thing she said to me)today after Lilly and Abe knocked on her door to see if her daughter could come out and play:

Neighbor: Damn! You've grown since I saw you last! (Which by my calculations has only been a little over 2 weeks)
Me: Yeah, well, it's the end of the day and I just had a big dinner. (Pathetic sounding excuse, I know, but true)
Neighbor: (Chuckling) Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.
Me: Oh well, then what's your excuse for being fat? (okay, I didn't actually say that. It was more like "Well, that's the truth" but I'm gonna come up with something clever the next time she does say something)

We then proceeded to watch our kids ride their scooters for the next hour and half and she gave me some free hair products. She talked about wanting to have another baby and I couldn't help but smile to myself because she'll get what's coming to her. I'll make sure of that.

The List of Names

As we all know, Lilly is of the creative kind and has written a list of names for the new baby. Here they are, in her own words (or spelling):

isubelu.
Sporcls. (Sparkles)
el.
geegr. (Geeger -name if it's a boy)
geedr. (Geeder- the other boy option)
liy. (Lee)
Quinne.
DeeDee.
ho ho.
Kilan. (pronounced like Kie-lan)
Fee Fee.
Ranbo. (Rainbow)
Gold.
Dimind. (Diamond)
Sun.
Silvr.
L.
B.
Hum.

I think we have a few good options here. Geegr is definitely growing on me!

Confessions of a semi-crazed mother

It all started on Friday when, after a long work week, Kelly went golfing. He had this planned for over a week so I knew it was coming and I tried to convince myself prior to his day out that I was okay with it. That I wanted him to go. That I was happy he was able to relax and have fun. But the day came and I was annoyed and selfishly angry. When Abe was screaming his head off in the car because Lilly was singing along to the radio, instead of losing my temper I just pictured my husband swinging his golf club, enjoying a beautiful day, cracking jokes with a friend and murderous thoughts began to form in my head. But here's the truth of it all: Kelly works really hard and he works a lot. Kelly rarely goes golfing and it's something he really enjoys. Kelly also has always been totally fine watching the kids whenever I want or need to go out. So, as I delve into my brain to figure out the real problem, I realize it's this: The reason I don't go out for long outings on my own (a.k.a. sans kids) is because I HAVE NOTHING TO DO and I think it's really pathetic and that's why I get annoyed when Kelly goes out. He has his very own life and I don't. And I'm jealous.



I used to LOVE to be on my own. In college I would relish my time away from roommates and responsibility and drive around in my '84 Nissan 200sx, navy blue. My car and I would go far and time was of no importance. I often remember smiling about the fact that no one knew where I was. I was completely alone and it felt wonderful. Now, the word "alone" means something totally different. I sometimes feel very alone even with a house full of my dearest ones. Sometimes, when the kids are fighting, all I think I want is for them to leave me alone, and yet really what I want is for them to just stop fighting and for hugs and kisses all around. I don't like the lonely feeling of being without my children. But I think, that even though these things are true, I need to learn to be alone again, to rediscover or find out anew, what Quinne is like. What do I like to do? What makes me happy, not as a wife or as a mother, but just as me. It's a difficult balance, but a necessary one for a fulfilling and whole life. I need to find a little bit of courage in my unsure and worried heart.



So here's a list of things I used to like to do that I don't do anymore:

I love to go listen to an orchestra play. Music like Vivaldi and Beethoven and Rachmaninov are exciting and emotionally charged and just beautiful.



I love to read and want to be in a book club that reads more than church books or feel-good books. I want texture and conflict and romance in my books. I don't care if there's a bit of swearing or sex. I like controvery and I like to learn. And I want to read books that are inspiring and expands my mind and my capacity for understanding. I don't need these kinds of books all the time, just sometimes.



I like to sing...especially to musical theater. I really stink at it and I've let my embarrassment over my lack of talent prevent me from really belting it out. Who cares if my kids and sometimes my husband start howling for me to stop. I've got to live.



I like old things. I like color. I like to run. I like to have picnics. I like to watch foreign films. I like to cry. I like some opera. I love gardens. I like to sit and watch people. I like to feel deeply. I like to create. I like to go on adventures. I like to go to plays.

But as I write this, my daughter is downstairs begging me to come and be with her. Duty calls and it's a duty that above all else, I wouldn't give up or change. So, I need to find balance and then refind that balance when the new baby comes. I think it's possible, but I haven't figured it out yet. I'll let you know when I do.

Easter Part 3.2

The first time I did this, it didn't work, so here it is again. I don't think it needs any explanations.