Thursday, November 25, 2010

Miracles Will Have to Wait

Gosh, I love Christmas. 

I've had my ups and downs with it.  I'll keep it brief by saying my childhood was dysfunctional, to say the very least.  Christmas was a time for my mother to overcompensate for everything that sucked the other 364 days of the year.

When I was married, holy crap, I was miserable.  And I had no desire to celebrate but my ex made my life a living hell if I didn't so I had to put on the happy face while slowly dying on the inside.

My first divorced Christmas was in 2003.  I think I still felt pretty numb.  I didn't want hoopla.  I didn't even really want gifts or company.  I ended up alone which is what I wanted but turned out to feel really horrible.  I'd been separated/divorced for 6 months and had been HARD CORE serially dating.  I felt empty.  Who would have ever known that the following Christmas, I'd have a baby?  Not me.  That's for damn sure.  Especially since I'd been told I'd never had children.  But that's another post for another day.

Since then, Christmas has grown exponentially in joy with each passing year.  Bianca is so into it.  I am so into it.  We've already put up our tree and are full force into watching Christmas movies.  The other day I was thinking about Miracle on 34th Street, one of my favorites.  I asked Bianca if she'd ever seen it.  No, she answers, what is it about?  I start to tell her it's about a little girl who doesn't believe in Santa and then she meets him and finds out he is real because......oh shit....because she asks for a dad and he gets it for her.  Shit shit shit I can't tell her that.  I fall silent and she, not one to let me get away with not finishing my thought starts hounding "What happens?  How does she know he's real?" 

Ummmm, ummmm "LOOK!  Something shiny!  Let's go out to dinner, wherever you want!  How about ice cream?  Want a pony??"

She's long since in bed and I'm watching Miracle on TV.  I wish it worked the way you see it in the movies.  Going to be a few years til I can share this holiday favorite with her.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010


You know, the universe knew what it was doing when it made children so stinking adorable and charming.  Just the second you are ready to blow your fuse and sentence your kid to their room for the next 12 years, they crack you up.

Bianca has been on a spy kick.  I don't know where she got it but she won't leave the house without her hat and sunglasses.  She creeps and slinks about, running from the door to hide behind the car.  Oh, correction, I mean our super spy-mobile.  Every button in the car is a super secret spy button. Insert sound effects: pssshhuuuu-pshhhuuuu!!!  (Oh god I need to get to the punchline b/c she just dissolved into whiney-cry-spygirl because I said she could not jump off the furniture.....)

So we leave the house the other day on a covert mission (going to school).  I said "You're incognito!" and explained what that meant.  She got to the car and caught a glimpse of herself in the window.  She flattens herself against the side of the car and whispers in breathless amazement "WHOA!  I'm so incognito, I didn't recognize myself!"

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

My Body Clock

My body has an incredibly perceptive and accurate clock.  I'm not talking biological clock or monthly cycle.  Not circadian rhythm or internal alarm. 

No, no.

My body knows exactly when I have the most to accomplish and exactly when the doctor's office closes.  And then it gets sick.  Let's say it's a Friday afternoon.  You know, when the doctor is open.  I can have a teeny tickle in my throat and some baby nose sniffles.  Fast forward to midnight.  I will then have a 137 degree fever, double ear infection, bronchitis, respiratory infection and bilateral pneumonia.  And may possibly be in organ failure or something.  And I'll have to decide if I want to wake up my daughter to go to the ER with me or wait the 490 hours until morning comes.  The degree of torture involved in either choice is pretty much the same.

Last time I started getting sick, I decided I was going to outsmart it.  I go to a natural health center and I fully believe in naturopathic medicine.  I have a host of natural supplements for all different aspects of illness.  I figured I would hit the impending sickness with every single thing I had because I didn't want to end up in the ER.  So....did you know you could overdose on herbal supplements?  I did not.  Now I do.  Guess where I ended up?  Yep, the ER.  I pumped my body full of things that sounded like they had NO business being ingested by a human being.  Lotus bulb, Ping Chaun, Xin Lian Pian, Pe Min Kan Wan, Qing Qi Hua Tan Wan, Er Chen Gen Chong Ji Isatis Root.  Uhhhh, do I get an egg roll and a side of fried rice with that?  Pretty much I felt like my innards were being systematically liquified and thought I may have also inadvertently triggered cardiac arrest.  Ah, good times.

So here I am, 2 days before Thanksgiving.  Holiday.  Stuff to do.  Family to visit.  Doctors offices closings imminent.  And I'm getting sick.  The lovely doctors at the ER were nice enough to give me a pre-emptive prescription for anti-biotics to keep me from OD'ing on floral roots next time I got sick.


Monday, November 22, 2010

Let's Share

I have started, saved, deleted, re-written and returned to this post innumerable times in the past 10 days.  It's even still Titled "untitled" in my post list.

So what the hell am I trying to say? 

I don't know anymore because I am just not sure what to think.  This whole parenting gig....once again, it's not the way it looked in the brochure.

Since Bianca was about 3 or so, I've had suspicions that she might be ADD.  I know that's way too early to diagnose and so I put my Mom-observations in a box on the shelf to examine again later.  That time is here.  And I'm just so overwhelmed with information that I don't know what to do with myself.

Bianca is 6 and in first grade.  Traits that I've noticed in the past are becoming more pronounced.  Things like an inability to concentrate on tasks.  Distractedness, forgetfulness, disorganization.  Divergent thinking.  Selective deaf-ness.  A growing dislike of school.  I've also noticed a serious decline in her at home behavior since first grade started.  Though I'm told she's just lovely at school.

But, you know, she's SIX.  So  how much of this is normal 6 year old?  How much is just her personality because, God help me, she is *just*like*me*  Stubborn, strong willed, literal.  (Yes, thanks Mom....your curse worked.)  Could it be the fact that it's just me & her and we can get very intense on one another sometimes?  Could she just be tuning out what she doesn't want to hear (namely ME nagging her...)?

So I have all these things swirling in my head:  Normal.  ADD.  Creative thinker.  Brat.  Spirited Child.  Learning styles.  Special needs.  Edison Trait.  Crappy parenting

Somehow I feel like whatever is going on, I've screwed up something major.  Either I made her this way or I've failed to recognize and advocate for whatever her special talents and needs may be.  And then I go "Get over it, this is not about you.  Spotlight whore."  I judge me and so I feel judged by everyone else, too.

I had a conference with her teacher recently and, where I assumed she was falling short in school, I learned it just the opposite.  I see her constantly straining but it turns out she struggles with the format of certain exercises, but she is grasping the material extremely well.  Whatever else is or is not going on, I have no doubt she is a bright child and a creative thinker.  It could be simply that she doesn't adapt well to convergent thinking/learning.  So here's me....expecting the school to come up with ways to reach her at her own level. And yet, at home, I want her to conform to MY way in my timeline.  No wonder we are butting heads all the time. 

I am exhausted over this situation and I cannot see it clearly.  I am emotionally vested to the hilt.  If anyone knows a way to motivate a possible ADD-divergent-creative thinker-spirited child into doing her homework and brushing her teeth in under 60 minutes, please do share.  If you don't have that, but you do have or can share that, instead.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Fill 'er Up

That old the glass half full or half empty?  Because apparently your answer to this one question labels you an optimist or a pessimist. 

I recently began this nutritional program.  Oh, who am I kidding?  Let's call a spade a spade.  It's a diet.  A hard diet with a big, fat capital D.  My Dr (who is very lucky that I love him or else he may have found himself wearing 2 weeks worth of protein least they "claim" to be protein shakes though I'm completely convinced if you did a blind taste test of vanilla shake vs wallpaper paste, the results would be 50/50) was extremely vague about the details of this "program" before he loaded me up with a box of assorted powders, liquids and supplements.  I understood shortly thereafter he had been vague on purpose because if I'd fully comprehended what I was signing up for, I would not have done it.  Not one freaking chance in hell.

So I start my days off drinking this scrumptious cleanse drink.  How does it taste?  Why don't you pour yourself a glass of prune juice, add an equal amount of Robitussin cough syrup and top it off with some finely powdered dirt.  Stir.  Enjoy.  Top o' the morning to ya.

I'm ready to make breakfast!
 An hour later, I get to have my wallpaper paste for breakfast.  I've gotten it down to a (mad) science where I don my goggles and hunch over my shaker bottle with a carefully concocted blend of (Diet acceptable) potions and elixers so that I don't immediately vomit when I drink it.  (hmmm, on second thought maybe that was the's like bulemia without the toothbrush down your throat!)  For snacks, I can have things like one pecan or two almonds.  I kid you not....that is their suggested snack.  And notice that is an "OR", not even a pecan AND two almonds.  This is not a snack, people.  That is what I vacuum off my car floor mat every week.  Meals are limited and I only eat dinner twice a week.  The other five days, it's another shake.  Okay, I gave up sugar.  And carbs.  And sugar.  And COFFEE for the love of all things holy.  A single, working Mom and I gave up coffee.  And snacking, and fast food.  And sugar.  And coffee.

Three weeks into this torture and I've lost 10 pounds.  Okay....I get it.  It's 10 pounds.  It's a step in the right direction.  But, for the torment of the last 3 weeks, it should be like 40 pounds.  Really.  Nevermind that my Dr, who looked fine to begin with, did the program and lost like 18 pounds in five hours.  (Am convinced men drop five pounds when they just think the word *diet*  Bastards.)

So Dr 18-pounds-lost-Bastard is getting all woo-hooey on me.  Yeah, 10 pounds, that's awesome!!  As I give him the death stare accompanied by flaring nostrils. 

So is my glass half empty?  I fully recognize and appreciate my half full, 10 pound glass.  But why isn't it all the way full with 40 pounds already?  Pessimist?  No.  Optimist?  Not so much.  Why-The-Hell-Not-ist?  Yep, that's me.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Give Thanks

It's that time of year.  I love Thanksgiving and the holidays.  I love the muck encrusted, glitter spewing projects that come home with my daughter.  Usually.  Today my sweet pea presented me with this:

Sweet, right?  Smile and encourage "Oh what a great job you did, baby!" While in my head I'm going "really, WTF kid??" because there is NO DAD.  Well, there's 2 fathers but no dad.  Yeah, I know....because my life was (is?) like a soap opera.  Except without the awkward product placement.  (Because no one reads my blog yet.)

"I just don't know how I would survive motherhood without Cheerios!"

The "Dad" she means is the only dad she really ever knew.  Not her biological father because she has never met him.  He saw her once, in court, when she was 14 months old and that's the extent of their relationship.  "Dad" refers to my ex boyfriend.  We started dating when she was 2 months old.  Two & a half years later, we had mapped out a future, marriage, adoption, more children, etc.  That future began with me buying a home 2 miles from where he lived so we would be close enough that he could live here part time.  He had bought the house his parents lived in...they were both very sick and he lived there to take care of them and.....oh cripes, it's such a long and convoluded story.  Let's suffice it to say, I was a naive love-struck idiot who proceeded to ignore and justify every HUGE, bright red flag that bashed me in the ol' noggin. 

So here's me, about to venture into my first home purchase, all strategically planned around him and his promises.  And the week of the closing, where I would have lost $17,000 if I backed out, he decided he wasn't sure if he was up for this whole relationship, marriage, parenthood thing.  And this has to be the best breakup line of ALL time.  "I love you and I want to be with you and Bianca but I just think that it's better if we break up now because what happens if we break up down the line when Bianca is older and then it will be so much harder for her."  Go ahead and read that again.  Yeah....even though I "love" you, we should break up now to avoid it being painful later.  Um, okaaaaay.  And so now here I live.  In his town, 2 miles from his house with daily reminders of why I will never be an idiot again.  Well, at least not about a guy.  Otherwise, I'm pretty much an idiot all the time. 

Tuesday, November 16, 2010


This is a stellar evening.  Every Tuesday, my Mom comes over for dinner.  Let me rephrase Mom BRINGS us dinner.  And then she babysits while I go to choir rehearsal.  And while I'm out she puts my daughter to bed and then she does my dishes!  I mean....ALL babysitters should be like this, no??  Lately, she's even taken the task of picking Bianca up from after school care.  Tonight, and I know this sounds crappy but, they are stuck in traffic.  (Happy Dance!)  It means that my usual 5 minutes of alone time has just turned into like 30-freaking-minutes of solitudinal bliss.  Yes, I'm making words up because I'm that happy.

In my first five minutes, I managed to change the 3 lightbulbs in my kitchen ceiling fan because inevitably they all explode within 45 seconds of one another.  I should mention that probably happened about 2 weeks ago and I've been working by the overhead stove light since.  I put away the 14 coats and 57 pairs of shoes that were strewn across the front hallway and stairs.  All in the last 3 days.  By 2 people.  I cleared the table of at least a dozen art projects (one of them created inside an empty [and clean] McDonalds Filet O Fish box..??) and set it for dinner.  I came downstairs to switch over laundry and was delighted to find that, despite my severe case of procrastinatitis, I caught the laundry in time to move it into the dryer without having to wash the you-left-it-in-the-washer-too-long stink off of it.  (Holy crap, they just called & are their way home and my darling daughter informed me that I forgot to put her bologna in her lunch.  AGH!!!!)

Better get to the point because none of the above has anything to do with what I wanted to write about at this moment.  LOL.  I'm just excited.

So, I've been in solitary confinement for....err, I mean....I've been doing this single parent gig for a while now.  My last relationship ended four years ago this coming January.  This passing October marked three years since I last know, ahem.....relations.  Yes, I typed that correctly and I can do the math, thank you very much.  (glare)  A girl makes some hasty decisions sometimes.....   You know when you just don't want your stupid, crappy, heart-breaking jerkface ex to be the last person you were with....???  I digress.

I'm really quite content being single and honestly, being a Mom is my main focus.  I have precious little time with my baby and her childhood is speeding by like the Millenium Falcon in hyperdrive.  So I have no regret in not spending any part of my weekends trying to find a decent man.  I would be lying if I said I never miss a single thing about having a significant other and I admit, *GASP*, I even took a peek at my old stompin' grounds of an online dating site a few weeks ago.  PA-THE-TIC!!  Some of the same guys I dated &/or otherwise consorted with still on there.  Four years later.  Same stupid lines, same stupid head games, same crappity crappy crap. 

Have you heard the song by Nick Lachey?  "Now I'm broken, And I'm faded, I'm half the man I thought I would be, But you can have what's left of me.  Take what's left of this man.  Make me whole once again."  Are you effing kidding me?  And women swoon for that garbage.  Oh, oooh, Nick!!  I'll take what's left of you!!  I'll take that broken half of a man you're offering!!  If I had to take half of  him, it would be the bottom half so I could at least have some fun and not have to listen to the ridiculousness coming out of his pie-hole. 

I have some self esteem, an electric blanket and alot of good shows on my DVR that I have hopes of someday getting to watch.  I'm all set in singledom for now, thanks.  :o)

Monday, November 15, 2010

All I Want For not on my list.

Bianca is now 6 years old. Prior to this year, the only TV she really watched was Noggin which has no commercials, unless you count their mini-mercials about Lysol. It's always encouraging to me that my daughter can watch me clean a counter or toilet and announce "hey, you've just killed 99.9% of all germs!" Good to know. I love Noggin and I appreciate the lack of commercials but it makes compiling a Christmas List an extremely difficult task. Last year, I think Bianca's Christmas list went something like this:
a clam
a purple octopus
some lobsters
a smiley shark

(she'd pulled out her book "Commotion in the Ocean" and just started naming things she saw on the pages)

Earlier this year, Bianca got the word from her first grade friends that Dora (and the likes of other Noggin characters) are for babies. Well....Disney channel, here we come. I'm okay with that; there are some okay shows. But holy crap, what is this?!?! What are all these super fun looking products being shoved in our face every six minutes?? With the look of a labotomy recipient, Bianca stares at the television and chants "I want that. I want that. I want that." Now we practically need a publisher for her Christmas list. There's:
Completely Unnecessary Barbie
Magical Extortion Belle
Ha-Ha You'll Never Find Me Orbeez
Tackle The Store Clerk Squinkees
On Backorder til 2014 Dance Star Mickey (and thank GOD for that b/c I do not want that obnoxious mouse in my home)
......toy upon toy after game after game.

We go to see Santa at the mall yesterday. Yeah, yeah...I know. But I had a plan, I swear. #1, I took advantage of all the decorations at the mall as backgrounds to get a holiday card photo. (And it worked, great pics, cards ordered from tiny prints last night...expected to be here before thanksgiving. I. Am. Genius.) #2, I can now avoid the mall til January. (Because I took that manuscript of a Christmas list and already bought what I decided were the best choices...all except that freaking Belle doll that I can't find anywhere but I already bought the Prince doll that goes with it and so now I need to find Belle b/c no girl wants the prince without the princess.....I digress) So, future store avoidance......Genius again! (And this time I really am genius b/c I didn't have to utilize spell check to figure out why "genious" looked wrong. Deerrrrrrr)

Bianca sits on Santa's lap. Well, really more like charged out of the gate akin to Secretariat and tackled him on his little couch...... And what does she ask for? A PONY. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat????? I glare at Santa to make sure that big faker doesn't say "Okay" as I consider exposing him in front of 732 children waiting in line. I am pleased that he's well versed in child redirection. "Here little girl, have a book. Be good." Yes, I love that Santa. Bianca later explained that she meant, and is *sure* Santa understood she meant a toy pony. So much for being done shopping.....