I know Robby read my last post because he woke up at 1 am this morning and didn't go back to sleep. He was coughing a little, but I think he was really up out of 3 year old spite.
We finally got him down for a nap at 1 pm and I don't think I'm going to wake him up.
And Robby? We're having tomatoes and broccoli for dinner.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Poppies! Poppies, Will Make Them Sleep!
About 2 months ago, Robby started refusing to take a nap at school. We tried having him listen to music on headphones, isolating him from the other kids, punishing him, all to no avail. The teachers had given up and who could blame them for that?
I know kids outgrow naps. Robby was walking around with dark circles under his eyes and his demeanor made it clear he needed some more sleep. The poor kid was born into genes that turn you homicidal without enough pillow time.
Almost two weeks ago, I gave Robby a choice. He could take his nap at school or he could go to bed at 7 pm every night instead of his usual 8 - 8:30 bedtime. Despite me pointing out to him if he napped at school he wasn't missing out on anything, and that going to bed at 7 pm would mean less time at home with us in the evening, he chose the earlier bedtime.
The last two weeks have been wonderful! He has slept well for the most part and wakes up happy. He is not grumpy when I pick him up from school and he doesn't even fight that hard to stay up past 7 pm. (Well, he did last night.)
I have to say it has been nice having the sweet agreeable child back. As much as an almost 4 year can be agreeable that is.
I know kids outgrow naps. Robby was walking around with dark circles under his eyes and his demeanor made it clear he needed some more sleep. The poor kid was born into genes that turn you homicidal without enough pillow time.
Almost two weeks ago, I gave Robby a choice. He could take his nap at school or he could go to bed at 7 pm every night instead of his usual 8 - 8:30 bedtime. Despite me pointing out to him if he napped at school he wasn't missing out on anything, and that going to bed at 7 pm would mean less time at home with us in the evening, he chose the earlier bedtime.
The last two weeks have been wonderful! He has slept well for the most part and wakes up happy. He is not grumpy when I pick him up from school and he doesn't even fight that hard to stay up past 7 pm. (Well, he did last night.)
I have to say it has been nice having the sweet agreeable child back. As much as an almost 4 year can be agreeable that is.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Typical Morning
I've struggled since my 20's with eating breakfast everyday. The Papa has tried numerous tricks to get me to eat every morning. Usually, Robby will eat alone while we get ready for work or make his lunch. After this morning's conversation, I think we all need to sit down and eat breakfast together every morning.
Robby: What do you call a baby elephant?
Me: A calf.
Robby: What do you call a baby pig?
Me: A piglet.
Me: What do you call a baby Robby who doesn't eat his breakfast?
Robby: A crab.
Robby: What do you call a baby elephant?
Me: A calf.
Robby: What do you call a baby pig?
Me: A piglet.
Me: What do you call a baby Robby who doesn't eat his breakfast?
Robby: A crab.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Got Your Number
I have not spoken to The Nanny since early November, when I begged her to call off the lawsuit she filed against The Grandma. I told her we could not talk if there was a lawsuit, as my mom's health was unstable at that point and I might have to take over her affairs. She didn't call it off.
She didn't call for my birthday. She didn't call at Thanksgiving. She didn't call at Christmas. She didn't call when she got my Christmas card with the picture of Robby on Santa's lap. She didn't call when she moved to another state. She didn't call when she turned off her phone and got another number. She didn't call with her new address. She didn't call.
Last week I got her number. I didn't call.
I'm really torn on this one. I know she is suffering from sort form of dementia, but that doesn't make it any easier to understand. I heard from lawyer to lawyer that she never wants to hear from me again. Why? I don't know. I want to hear it from her if she doesn't want me (or Robby) in her life. Just when I convince myself to dial her number, the fear of hearing her say just that stops me.
I know I have to call...eventually.
She didn't call for my birthday. She didn't call at Thanksgiving. She didn't call at Christmas. She didn't call when she got my Christmas card with the picture of Robby on Santa's lap. She didn't call when she moved to another state. She didn't call when she turned off her phone and got another number. She didn't call with her new address. She didn't call.
Last week I got her number. I didn't call.
I'm really torn on this one. I know she is suffering from sort form of dementia, but that doesn't make it any easier to understand. I heard from lawyer to lawyer that she never wants to hear from me again. Why? I don't know. I want to hear it from her if she doesn't want me (or Robby) in her life. Just when I convince myself to dial her number, the fear of hearing her say just that stops me.
I know I have to call...eventually.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
The Roof! The Roof!
A man is vacationing in Europe and calls back home to check in with his brother, who is house sitting for the three weeks he will be gone.
"How are things at home?"
"Not great. Your cat is dead."
"What!!! Really?"
"Yep."
"Man! What happened?"
"She got on the roof and refused to come down. She wouldn't eat or drink water. She just sat there for days until she finally died."
"Oh, Jeez. Man, you could have broken the news a little easier on me, brother."
"Like how?"
"I don't know; You could have told me that she was stuck on the roof this time and the next time I called you could have told me she died. That way, at least I would have been prepared and it wouldn't have been such a shock."
"I guess so. Sorry, dude."
"Anyway, how's Grandma doing?"
"She's up on the roof and we can't get her to come down."
Editorial Note: Thanks to a call from Aunt Donna this evening, I realize that I need to let everyone know that The Grandma and The Nanny are both alive and kicking. It is seven years to the day that my Dad died. I was trying to communicate the humor that one can actually prepare for a loved one's death.
"How are things at home?"
"Not great. Your cat is dead."
"What!!! Really?"
"Yep."
"Man! What happened?"
"She got on the roof and refused to come down. She wouldn't eat or drink water. She just sat there for days until she finally died."
"Oh, Jeez. Man, you could have broken the news a little easier on me, brother."
"Like how?"
"I don't know; You could have told me that she was stuck on the roof this time and the next time I called you could have told me she died. That way, at least I would have been prepared and it wouldn't have been such a shock."
"I guess so. Sorry, dude."
"Anyway, how's Grandma doing?"
"She's up on the roof and we can't get her to come down."
Editorial Note: Thanks to a call from Aunt Donna this evening, I realize that I need to let everyone know that The Grandma and The Nanny are both alive and kicking. It is seven years to the day that my Dad died. I was trying to communicate the humor that one can actually prepare for a loved one's death.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Shopping Mall Merit Badge
Tomorrow night is date night for The Papa and I. We are going to a swanky YELP event, as The Papa is an "elite" Yelper. After reading the invitation to the event and realizing just how swanky the place we were going is, I looked into my closet and was terrified. Granted, I had to buy not one, but TWO new dresses just last year for the little brother's wedding. In my defense, it was a summer wedding and this is March and it snowed here just yesterday for crying out loud. Neither of those summer dresses would work. So, after work, I grabbed the kid from school and headed for the local mall. With promises of a McDonald's dinner and play time in the play area, we struck a deal for good behavior while I looked for a dress.
He was an A N G E L, ANGEL, in Macy's. Unfortunately, Mr. Macy thinks that the only dresses people in my size wear should either be boldly floral or a business suit. Off to the next store, only to discover Mr. JC Penney thinks that women in my size look good in polka dots. By this time, I had to say "Get over here, NOW!" several times. I told myself he was hungry and that food would make it better. We headed to the food court and he hoovered up the happy meal. Ahh. We left the food court with much less trauma and headed for the play area. After a good 30 minutes of releasing the massive amount of energy that had been trapped in his little three year old body for over two hours, we headed off to the third, and final store. I had never been in this store, but had walked by it many times and told myself that it was for people MUCH younger than me. (When will I ever learn about judging things I know nothing about?)
I should have known we were in trouble when he ran through the hanging clothes and screamed, "Look Mama! It's a CAR WASH!" at the top of his lungs. I was about to bolt for the car, when there it was. The perfect little black dress. On the clearance rack! I managed to grab his hand and drag him to the dressing room. When I started taking my clothes off, he asked, "Do you have to go potty? There's no potty in here, Mama." That was good for a chuckle or two from the neighboring dressing rooms. They would need to remember just how funny and cute he was just minutes later, as I dragged him back by his feet from crawling under the wall between the rooms.
The dress fit! It was purchased and we headed to the register. I had the clerk in sight and was almost free and clear before he took the sunglasses off of a display and spun the whole thing Ala Pat Sajack. Things flew. Bangles, bobbles and glasses were everywhere. By the time I had them cleaned up and gotten a hold of his hand again, there was a line of three people in front of us. I always knew living with a beagle would prepare me for motherhood. We got in the line and I barked, "SIT!!!" repeatedly until he sat on the floor next to me. Every time he moved, I would just scream, "SIT!!!" again. He managed to rip three leather strips off the tassel of my purse by the time it was our turn.
He cried all the way though the mall, through Macy's and the parking lot to the car. He knew I was mad, and I think he was a little scared at just how mad I was. I can tell you, I was feeling more exhausted than angry, but what he didn't know only hurt him a little and helped me make it to the car. We had a long talk in the car about behavior and respecting other people's needs. I'm sure most of it went over his head, but his emotional response was appropriate. The night was not a total loss though, for I had a little black dress and yet another motherhood merit badge to put on my apron. I am blessed.
He was an A N G E L, ANGEL, in Macy's. Unfortunately, Mr. Macy thinks that the only dresses people in my size wear should either be boldly floral or a business suit. Off to the next store, only to discover Mr. JC Penney thinks that women in my size look good in polka dots. By this time, I had to say "Get over here, NOW!" several times. I told myself he was hungry and that food would make it better. We headed to the food court and he hoovered up the happy meal. Ahh. We left the food court with much less trauma and headed for the play area. After a good 30 minutes of releasing the massive amount of energy that had been trapped in his little three year old body for over two hours, we headed off to the third, and final store. I had never been in this store, but had walked by it many times and told myself that it was for people MUCH younger than me. (When will I ever learn about judging things I know nothing about?)
I should have known we were in trouble when he ran through the hanging clothes and screamed, "Look Mama! It's a CAR WASH!" at the top of his lungs. I was about to bolt for the car, when there it was. The perfect little black dress. On the clearance rack! I managed to grab his hand and drag him to the dressing room. When I started taking my clothes off, he asked, "Do you have to go potty? There's no potty in here, Mama." That was good for a chuckle or two from the neighboring dressing rooms. They would need to remember just how funny and cute he was just minutes later, as I dragged him back by his feet from crawling under the wall between the rooms.
The dress fit! It was purchased and we headed to the register. I had the clerk in sight and was almost free and clear before he took the sunglasses off of a display and spun the whole thing Ala Pat Sajack. Things flew. Bangles, bobbles and glasses were everywhere. By the time I had them cleaned up and gotten a hold of his hand again, there was a line of three people in front of us. I always knew living with a beagle would prepare me for motherhood. We got in the line and I barked, "SIT!!!" repeatedly until he sat on the floor next to me. Every time he moved, I would just scream, "SIT!!!" again. He managed to rip three leather strips off the tassel of my purse by the time it was our turn.
He cried all the way though the mall, through Macy's and the parking lot to the car. He knew I was mad, and I think he was a little scared at just how mad I was. I can tell you, I was feeling more exhausted than angry, but what he didn't know only hurt him a little and helped me make it to the car. We had a long talk in the car about behavior and respecting other people's needs. I'm sure most of it went over his head, but his emotional response was appropriate. The night was not a total loss though, for I had a little black dress and yet another motherhood merit badge to put on my apron. I am blessed.
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