My Little Casanova

If ever a little boy was in the Freudian stage, it is Kaleb right now. He loooooves me...I mean, he is really in love with me.

And I love it. Yep, it makes my heart melt.

These are a few "Kalebisms" that have come out of his mouth in the past week:

"Mommy, you're soooo pretty." (btw, he said this to me about half an hour after I rolled out of bed...bonus points!)

"mmmm, Mommy you smell so good"

"Mommy, when I get bigger you can be my girl, ok? I don't want to get married and have kids; you can just be my girl." (sounds good to me!)

Kaleb, I'm not sure where you learned these lines, but keep 'em coming!

Is Ignorance Really Bliss?

So...is ignorance really bliss? Do you really want to be kept in the dark?



A few weeks ago at church we saw a lady who had on a beautiful jersey-knit dress. She really looked lovely. Except for the panty lines that I could not stop staring at.



As we watched her walk across the parking lot, I said to Keith, "why in the heck doesn't her husband tell her what the rest of us see? Why would he let her walk around like that?!"



I'm sure you've seen women fall into the same trap...they have no idea they are pulling a major fashion Don't as they strut around. And I always wonder why somebody doesn't tell them?!



So...the one thing about Keith is that he is always reliable as far as giving me honest opinions of how I look in what I am wearing.



Unfortunately, I don't always like the opinions!



This weekend he pointed out something that wasn't exactly flattering on me. As soon as he said it, he said, "great, I never should have said anything. Now I'm going to end up on your blog."



Well...sorry, babe you are right...but I promise I will not repeat what you told me.

Anyway, I was so bummed at what he pointed out to me even though I knew he was right. And I also knew he wasn't being mean; he just wanted to let me know what I obviously didn't want to see.

So, ladies...here's my question for you: Do you want to know or do you want to be blissfully ignorant? Would you rather have your husband (or boyfriend, or girlfriend) point out something that isn't flattering, or would you rather that strangers walk past you and giggle?

I am thankful for the honest feedback, even if it does hurt just a bit.

Operation Get Out of Our Bed!

This picture was taken at least 2 years ago. Sweet precious Kaleb snuggling with me in bed! It could have been taken last week.

****if you are the judgemental type who loves to tell everybody how to raise their kids, then please stop reading now! Thank you.

Here's the background: Kaleb has NEVER, EVER been a good sleeper. As an infant, he had horrible colic. He would literally scream if he wasn't being constantly held. I would spend hours rocking him to sleep. The minute I put him in the crib and removed my hands, he would wake up screaming. If you thnk I'm exaggerating, ask the amazing ladies at the nursery in our church. They remember!

I tried everything! Every cotton-picking piece of advice from friends, family, and even complete strangers! I remember the pain of utter exhaustion that I felt on a daily basis. I was desperate for a solution to get him to sleep so that I, in turn, could sleep and not go completely insane.

>>>> On a side note, I should mention that I LOVE sleep. I can fall asleep anywhere, any time. If I could, I would sleep 12 hours a night and take a 2 hour nap in the afternoon!

One time I called the "Babyline" that our hospital had available for new mothers. I called, crying, begging, pleading for help. This is what the well-meaning old lady said to me: "A well-rested mother is a happy mother." Ummmm...yeah, no shit Sherlock! Do I sound like either of those to you?????

Anyway, one night we put Kaleb down in our bed....and guess what? He fell sound asleep. Like a beautiful cherub. I swear, the skies parted and the angels sang!

And so, here we are, four years later and he is still in our bed. His bed sits, lonely, in his room. Those awesome Spiderman sheets waiting for him to lay on them. Every night, he falls asleep in our bed. Sometimes we move him to his bed and sometimes we don't, depending on how tired we are. I should also tell you that not only does he fall asleep in our bed, but he also has to be physically touching me to fall asleep...head on my belly, forehead-to-forehead, etc. (I know, I know...we have really failed, we are well aware! Like I said, stop reading!)

We have tried many times to get him out of our bed, and we always give up because he outlasts us every time! It's phenomenal the stamina he has!

We are trying again. We really want our bed back. We took a great class at church on Song of Solomon and it would be nice to put it into practice (wink wink, nudge nudge).

Here is how it's going so far:

Night 1 (Thursday): We prepped Kaleb ahead of time that he would be sleeping in his own bed and that if he did I would rent a movie for him. After dinner, he played and watched some TV, then after bath and jammies we all played a board game in his room. Daddy kissed him goodnight, then I read him a couple of books. I kissed him goodnight and went to our room. About 5 minutes or so later, he came in and asked me to come snuggle with him. I did, and as he started to drift to sleep I got up and went back to bed. He slept all the way until 4:30 and then came to our room.

We were ecstatic! It was so easy! We were all rested and happy!

Well, we should have known. It was too easy. A fluke.

Night 2 (Friday): All hell broke loose! Earlier in the day I bought a reward chart so we could track his progress. We decided on some nice rewards for him, and he seemed both proud and happy. As it got closer to bedtime, he was really cranky. Probably over-tired...not a good sign. Again, I read to him and then tried to say goodnight. It fell apart from there. For the next hour he screamed and cried, clutching to my leg as I tried to leave the room, chasing me down the hall.

These are some of the things he said to me: "please Mommy, please! I'll be a good boy I promise. Please, Mommy (kiss kiss) I love you don't you want to snuggle with me. Pleeeeeease Mommy I need you!"

It broke my heart. It was all I could do not to cry with him and bring him to our bed. But I didn't. I just held him and told him I loved him, and that this is best for him and he would be OK, blah blah etc.

Keith took over and basically held him until he fell asleep in his arms out of shear exhaustion.

So...any advice is much needed and appreciated, but also support and encouragement. This is probably harder for me than Kaleb and I don't want to fail again.

I'll keep you posted on our progress!

Dagger through my heart!

Next week Kaleb's preschool is doing school bus rides for the kids. The bus will take them for a ride around the block.

It seems a little weird that he will probably never actually take a bus to school as long as we continue to live in HB. Kids either walk, ride bikes/skateboards, or they get a ride with their folks. (weird, huh? I took a bus every day until my older brother started driving)

So Kaleb's teacher said she needed a couple of parents to come along as helpers. Of course, I volunteered...any chance I get to help out, I do. Plus, I am really hoping to be working next year so I want to take advantage while I can.

So on the way home I told Kaleb that I am coming on the bus rides. His response? "Oh, mommy I'm so happy! It's going to be so much fun!"

uh-uh. nope. not even close.

It was more like this: (twisted up nose and mouth) "Whyyyyyyyyyyy? Mommy, I love you, but it's OK, you don't need to come with me. I'm a big boy. I wanna be with my friends. I'm gonna sit with Jack (his buddy). I don't want you to come."

Hole-eeeee crap! Isn't he too young for that?

I still can't get the dagger out of my heart :(

For Husbands, Take 6

Dear Loving Husbands,

It is never...I repeat, NEVER, a good idea to start a sentence with, "so I was looking at your muffin top..."

Puh-leeze

Characters from the Fair

Last weekend I went to a teacher job fair for the Diocese of Orange. I am starting to amp up my search for a job next year, and I really want to get back to the classroom. I miss it so much. And, since I worked for the Diocese before, I figure this might be my best bet in getting a teaching job in this state (in case you haven't heard, California schools are in crisis and there are no job openings).

It was kind of fun getting prepped for the fair. I woke up early, actually showered and put on makeup before 8 am (!) and dressed in grown-up clothes. Then I put on my best smiley face and went to the fair (mmmm, I can smell the corn dogs already....oh wait, that's a different fair).

It wasn't nearly as crazy as I thought it would be. I stood in several lines, met several principals and discussed why I would just love to teach at their school. ****for the record, I hate these shmoozy-woozy type events, but I did my best to seem really excited***


Now, I'm no expert, but I am pretty sure a few of the characters I saw probably don't need to wait by their phones for a job offer. Here are my favorites:



1. The guy with the super-long moustache that curled around at the ends:

This guy made me laugh...genuinely...he meant no harm but shot himself in the foot. I'm standing with my former principal. We're catching up on things and discussing next year and possibilities and this guy totally interrupts us. He's got doughnut crumbs in his moustache, and he's holding a mug of coffee. I can smell his coffee breath, and I'm pretty sure so could the person across the room!

A couple of pointers for this guy: Never interrupt people who are obviously having a conversation! It just makes you look rude. Stand in line like the rest of us. Also, just because they put out coffee and doughnuts doesn't mean you have to take them; wait until you are leaving and take one for the road. Finally - breath mints!

2. The girl in the over-the-knee stiletto boots:




Girl, those boots were rockin', but you weren't at Tao Las Vegas, you were at a Catholic Schools job fair! Know your audience! Many of the principals you were talking to were nuns who have spent their whole adult lives dressing in shapeless gray suits and orthopedic shoes. Seriously!



Those were my favorites! I wish them luck in their future endeavors!

Judgement

Have you ever passed judgement on someone based on limited information? I have. I do. Probably more than I realize.

One instance that I remember is this: We were out to breakfast with my father-in-law and his wife. Kaleb was an infant. There was a family in the booth behind us. One of the kids was being a little bit whiny. She was obviously needing her mom's attention. Suddenly I heard mom snap at the girl. I don't remember the exact words but I do remember that they were harsh and I was shocked.

Again...I remind you that Kaleb was an infant so I had not yet experienced the wonderment of a whiny toddler!

I made some comment about "wow nice mom" or something like that. My father-in-law's wife gently made the comment "well, we don't know what kind of morning they have had."

Now that Kaleb is almost four, I totally understand what she meant! I am sure there have been plenty of times that I have been less than loving towards him with my words and other people have been shocked.

Today I spent some time in the ER. It's kind of a long story, but basically I get something called "icepick headaches." It literally feels like someone is stabbing me in the head with an icepick. It comes out of nowhere and leaves just as quickly. It stops me in my tracks when it happens. I have been having increasing numbers of them lately, which leaves my head feeling totally sore. This morning I had a couple of them, followed by severe light-headedness. I had to sit down because I felt myself passing out. This happened twice.

Now...Mondays are absolutely the worst possible day for Keith at work. Remember, he IS the company, so if he takes a day off no business gets done. Hence...he works all the time. The last thing I want to do is take him away from work on a Monday.

So...I finished getting Kaleb ready and, even though Keith offered to drive him, off we went to school. I felt fine and was already thinking about everything I needed to get done. After I dropped him off, I got in the car and as I started to drive away I felt totally numb and lightheaded. I felt like I couldn't even grip the steering wheel. I pulled over, called Keith and told him I needed him to come get me, and then I called my doctor.

Now, I'm parked in the church parking lot and the doctor keeps calling me back to see if Keith has reached me yet (he was still a ways a way). He tells me I need go into the building and stay with people...I am not to be alone. That was fine with me since the church is like home and the people are like family. But then he called back and decided it was taking too long and I have to call the paramedics.

***I just have to interrupt and tell you how much I hate to be in situations where people are going to be staring at me, so this was not making me happy. It was faaar to much drama for a Monday morning!

They came, and told me I was having a panic attack...ummmm...noooooo. That seems to be what medical people tell women when they don't know what's wrong. I'm pretty sure they never dismiss men like that. I was on my way to meet a friend for yoga...you tell me where the panic would be??

They clear Keith to drive me to ER. We get bed right away. I tell the same story to a nurse. She then stands just outside my doorway and gives my history to the doc and another nurse. This other nurse then says, "oh, that's great she passes out and then drives her son to school? What a great mom!" And they all give each other that look (the one with eyes wide open and eyebrows raised).

I cried. I was really hurt. I pride myself on being a good mom and to have that questioned was probably the worst thing you could say to me.

But here's the thing...she was going off limited information. She didn't know all the details, or how I would have loathed to ask Keith to take him even though I felt fine when we left. She made a snap to judgement that I have probably made dozens of times. It just hurt because I was on the receiving end. And she ended up being quite pleasant to me and I decided to forgive her.

And I'm feeling much better, albeit tired, tonight.

Statute of Limitations on Anger?

Almost exactly two years ago, we were at a first birthday party for the son of our good friends.


One of the guests is a female friend of theirs, who is used to generating a lot of (male) attention. She is approximately 6 feet tall, (usually) slender, and blond. She always has on the "right" outfit, and her hair and makeup are always perfect. 'Nuf said, right? I'll call her Glamazon.

I, personally, refer to chicks like Glamazon as high-maintenance, but who am I?

So...the party was equally as fun for the adults as for the kids. And it was especially fun for the men...a bit too fun, some would say. As in, taking shots of some weird German liquor fun.


So Keith, God love him, was probably two sheets to the wind when he was introduced to Glamazon.

****now here's where it gets interesting****

Glamazon was wearing a loose-fitting top. What Keith didn't know is that she had just had a baby about 6 months prior to this party. And, like most women, it was going to take more than 6 months to get her body back. (heck, it's been almost 4 years for me and I am still trying)...(I just lied, I'm not trying that hard...I've given in to my new post-Kaleb bod)


OK, back to the story.


Keith says, "Wow congratulations! When are you due?"


HA! sorry, despite being a woman, I still kind of chuckle when I think of this. And, yes, it happened to me 2 months after I gave birth. I was upset at the time, but I also knew that the person who said it meant me no malice.

I think it's safe to say that Glamazon was a little upset. A lot upset. She was pissed!

Keith apologized profusely, and he sincerely felt bad. But the damage was done.

***fast forward 2 years...birthday party for same boy...

We walk into the party and Glamazon is there. Let me say, she looked fantastic. There would have been no mistaking her for a pregnant woman today. So kudos to her.

She sees us, turns around, grabs her husband, whispers something frantically, then turns back around to stare at us.

I think it's safe to say she's still upset.

Awkward!

Last week I dropped Kaleb off at school and made my way to the nail place for a mani/pedi. I was so excited! It had been at least a month since my last manicure. I was really looking forward to enjoying a little "me" time.

Everything was perfect until the sweet little lady rolled up my pants legs and poured a heaping glob of lotion in her hands, prepping to rub my legs. I looked down, and in my semi-asleep state almost didn't catch the horrified look on her face as she caught a glimpse of these:

Yep, it's February...time to break out the razor!

They say....

"Save the drama fo yo mama."

But waddya do when yo mama IS the drama?

hmmmm