Sometimes, With Some Kids, You Change The Rules
Have you ever told your kid to use their “inside voice”? Well, I’ve finally come to the conclusion that my daughter doesn’t have one. Her regular talking voice, especially when she gets really excited about something, IS JUST DAMN LOUD. I’ve been trying to quiet her tone for weeks by constantly telling her, “NikkiZ…QUIETLY please.” Mainly because in public I don’t want the entire world to be bothered by her conversation with me. But you know what I decided while in Disney World? It’s just not worth it. She can understand whispering, especially if someone is napping. But she really struggles with talking at a lower volume than LOUD. It was getting irritating to me just trying to get her to talk more quietly and she was getting frustrated because I was constantly interrupting her to get her to quiet down a bit. But you know what? I gave up. I did what we all swear we won’t do. I gave up. I finally decided, She’s just a loud talker. And yes, as she gets older I’ll continue to work with her on understanding the power of her voice and how it can annoy others who don’t want to be part of her conversation. However, I decided that constantly trying to work on that NOW? When she’s FOUR? Is not helping anyone. And really…do I truly care about the person annoyed by my daughters animated discussion of the merits of eating your own eyeballs? (OMG. Don’t Ask. She’s on an eyeball kick lately.) No. Not as much as I care about just reveling in my daughter’s developing personality. So, yes. I’ll work on helping her understand controlling her volume, but I’m not going to keep shhhhh’ing her every time she talks out in public. It was making us both crazy.

Suddenly You Stop Caring What Other People Think.
We really got to know this talkative trait of hers very well in Disney World. Not only was she constantly excited about everything, making her talking nine million times more than usual, but she was also often hopped up on Princesses. Meeting those characters tended to quadruple the LOUD AND CRAZY TALKING effect of NikkiZ’s. If you scan through the flickr set you’ll see that – along with the smiling-at-the-camera pictures with every character – we have the talking-their-ears-off pictures as well. And while part of me worried about the line behind us and whether people were annoyed with my daughter and her turn taking TOO LONG; mostly I just sat back and enjoyed it. And I just pledged to never EVER be annoyed by a talkative child again. Because, while they may ask WAAAAAY too many questions (I’ve actually had to turn off movies before because my patience disintegrated under the barrage of questions about plot and characters. I’m looking at you SPY KIDS!) they also are so fascinating. Because there is a secret that us parents of talkative kids learn…If your kid talks a lot? You are blessed with a unique insight to their amazing minds. And for that? I’ll be the parent of the annoying kid in line any day.

Do you have a talkative child? Did yours already start asking the difficult question long before you expected them? Last night my daughter started asking me about cancer and where it comes from. And don’t even ask me how many times she’s pushed the, “But how did the baby get into her belly?” topic. The downside of a talkative kid? The difficult questions definitely come a lot sooner than with the quiet child. Jeez.

First off…NikkiZ is the perfect age for Disney. She’s old enough to understand lines and why they’re annoying. She can decide whether something or someONE is worth the long wait. She does fine without her nap and her schedule can be disrupted without total meltdowns. However, she’s also young enough to believe in the magic of it all. She didn’t question (too much) the fact that we saw Mickey in a parade about five minutes after this picture was taken. And he was in a different outfit.

But for every princess she met? My heart fluttered a bit too. I’m old enough to understand that yes – those two Ariel’s we met? Were not the same person. Yet I got totally thrilled meeting both of them. And I referred to them as Ariel and made sure NikkiZ got BOTH of their autographs. I also wished I had my own autograph book. I didn’t get to meet my two favorites (Eeyore and Pocahontas) – but if I had? I might have just had them sign my shirt or something.

After NikkiZ got her face painted I decided I wanted it done too. I wasn’t going to let her have ALL the fun. I rode roller coasters with MrZ even though I hate them. I even kinda liked Space Mountain. But Everest at Animal Kingdom? No thank you. I kept my eyes closed the entire time. We saw amazing 3D shows that had me laughing and great stage shows that had me Ooooh’ing and Aaaah’ing. While NikkiZ is definitely the perfect age for Disney, there’s something to be said about going for the first time as an adult. We can’t afford to go every year. And it’s not much of a vacation since you come back feeling like you’ve been run over by a heard of elephants for 3 months straight. (I’m sure the 13.1 miles didn’t help.) But we WILL go again. As soon as AndyZ hits that magical age. I may not be a as swept away the next time, but I will meet Eeyore and Pocahontas and will surely giggle a bit when that happens.

As you all know by now, I chose to run with Team in Training for this half-marathon to raise money for the LLS in memory of my Dad. This was – by far – the best decision I’ve ever made. TnT is a huge organization that provides so much support in training and along the race that you can’t help but be swept up in the cause. Between the exhaustion of travel and the shin splints from the day before; not to mention the poor training I did – I was very concerned starting the race. However, the TnT group lifted my spirits and the cheers of “GO TEAM!” along the way from spectators who recognized the purple jersey? That was enough to pull me through. And with the mosaic above pinned to my back – I got back pats and words of encouragement along the way. Everytime I felt like walking someone would pat me on the back and say, “You’re doing great” or “Your Dad would be proud” and that reminded me why I was there. And of course – I cried the entire time.

I also loved the race itself. I highly recommend the Disney Princess Half Marathon to any beginning runner. It’s a very fun and casual atmosphere. My only regret was not having a running buddy because so many runners stopped along the way to take pictures with the Disney characters cheering us on. And there were so many tutus! And tiaras! Everyone seemed to be dressed up and it was GREAT. Just a feel-good event in all senses of the word. Next time? I’ll bring a friend. Any volunteers?

All in all – the race was wonderful. The shin splints started crippling me about mile 8 so I started taking walking breaks. But – I still ran most of those last few miles. Considering my training did not go well I am very proud of my success and I thought about Dad the entire time. I knew he’d be laughing at me and rolling his eyes at my tiara. It was an emotional day and I thought of many of you along the way. Thanks for your support. I’ll come back tomorrow and talk about the rest of the trip, but here’s a few race-related photos for your enjoyment.

Immediately after I tweeted, “I DID IT!”

I still managed to be able to carry NikkiZ periodically, even AFTER the 13.1 miles!

Yes, I wore my medal all day. I needed it as an explanation as to why I was walking funny.

We haven’t gone through all of our pictures since we’re still here but I wanted to show you all a few so far. I have a lot to say about the race, my Dad and this trip. But for now? Adorable pictures.

The reason I can’t do anything too thought provoking about what this run means to my grief over missing Dad is because the child we’re leaving for a week? Decided he wanted to cram in as much time with me as possible by waking up at 2am. FOR THE DAY. It is now 4:17am and I’ve officially given up trying to get him back to sleep. I tried several things including finally getting him to sleep in my arms on the couch for the second time (the first time ended when I tried to put him in his crib) and opting to just put the couches together to make him a temporary crib. He slept there for about 20 minutes. And then he woke up. Again. So I’m not fighting it anymore and am embracing the situation by going ahead and brewing that pot of coffee I normally don’t start on until after 5am. I think waking up at 2am for the day justifies two pots of coffee, don’t you think?

Maybe I’ll do something thought-provoking tomorrow. In the meantime – enjoy this picture of my child before he became the devil.

The dentist took an X-Ray of NikkiZ and decided the tooth needed to be removed. IMMEDIATELY. Since we’re leaving for Florida on Thursday he made an appointment for us at a pediatric dentist at 10:30am. That gave me an hour to try to find someone to watch AndyZ. Luckily, it was a slow day for MrZ at work so he said he’d just come home for the day. He stayed with AndyZ while I took NikkiZ into her appointment. She did great. The only time she was difficult was when they tried to get her to drink the Demerol. She hates medicine. It was just a little bit and it didn’t taste bad, but she still freaked out. She ended up spitting it out into her glass of water, so we just waited for her to finish that. I told the hygienist, “She doesn’t eat cake either. She’s strange.” I mean…WHO TURNS DOWN DEMEROL?

She got really chatty the longer she wore Mr. Nose (he of the laughing gas persuasion) and kept trying to talk to the dentist while he was jabbing needles in her gums. “I CANT FEEL IT AT ALL!” she was saying. And she was talking about Dora (which is what was on the TV above her head) and the awesome games they had in the lobby. She talked the ENTIRE TIME we were there. She kept saying, “Is the tooth out yet?” It’s like she didn’t even know it was supposed to hurt so she wasn’t even scared one bit. Best Tooth Pulling Experience EVER. And I could totally understand why her normal dentist sent us to a pediatric dentist for the procedure. They have everything set up to make things good for the kids. AND for the parents. It was AWESOME.

The experience did stress me out a bit, however. And then I had to get home, try to finish some housework since we’re LEAVING FOR FLORIDA IN TWO DAYS. And then I had to go to a costume work session at LilZ’s high school from 3:30-6:00pm. MrZ and I have been going to as many volunteer sessions as we can since this production is SO HUGE. They’re actually flying one of the characters. On a harness. They don’t mess around at this theater program, that’s for sure. But it’s almost entirely run/supported by parents. And there are some amazingly talented parents in the group. MrZ has been helping with set builds and I’ve been helping with painting and sewing. Except that I don’t sew – so I am actually gluing and cutting. But I’m doing it WELL.

MrZ’s session started at 6pm so he brought the kids with him and I took them home with me. I came home, gave them baths and put AndyZ to bed while NikkiZ was supposed to be getting out and drying herself off. When I came in the bathroom, however, there were bath toys all along the edge of the tub alongside wet washcloths. She knows not to do this because it gets water everywhere. And I still was so behind on my day for chores that I simply lost it. I yelled, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” And of course, that scared the crap out of her as she didn’t even know I was there. She immediately started crying which actually made me angrier (Please tell me you do that too? Get angrier when they cry?) so I continued, “Young Lady! You know better! Look at this huge mess! You need to dry all of that up and get dressed RIGHT NOW!” All with my voice raised.

Now…I’ve yelled louder and meaner before. I’ve discussed my yelling here and here. It’s my least favorite parenting quality. I honestly think I’m a damn good Mom 90% of the time. And then the .05% of the time when I’m yelling? I kinda hate myself. BUT – that time was NOT a bad yelling time for me. Seriously. Last night was just more of a shock session. But it scared her because I snuck up on her. I left the bathroom – took a few deep breaths – and came back. She was crying and said to me (While sobbing), “I don’t like it when you yell at me.”

Heart. Broken.

I was still angry about the mess but I also knew I had scared the crap out of her when I yelled so I decided to start over. I helped her get dressed and we snuggled for a bit while I talked about why I yell. I told her I would try not to yell because I didn’t like it when my Daddy yelled at me when I was little. We basically commiserated on the sucktitude of yelling parents. Even though I was one of those parents. Which is the ultimate crux of parenting when you find yourself doing the exact same thing you hated that your own parents did.

All in all? The day kinda sucked. But that’s OK. She and I had a good evening together. The Tooth Fairy came while she was sleeping. I tried to talk her into leaving the tooth somewhere other than under her pillow so the Tooth Fairy wouldn’t wake up her brother…but she was having NOTHING of it. She went through quite an ordeal, she was going to get the perfect Tooth Fairy moment out of it, dammit! I’m going to do my best to catch up on my To Do list today before we hit the road tomorrow night. I’m starting over today. I’m not going to stress out about yesterday or about my misstep in parenting. Because – like I very honestly admitted – I know I’m a good Mom. I focus on my failures a lot on this blog because I think about them a lot and am trying to always be a better person. BUT – I do honestly feel like I’m a good Mom. I could be better – but I’m not going to focus on my mistake from last night. I’m going to just continue being a good Mom who tries to be better every day. And since today is a new day…different from the sucky Mom yesterday? I’m already doing great.

The last tooth-filled smile you’ll see for awhile! Enjoy it!

I am a little sensitive regarding my intelligence, or other people’s opinions of my intelligence. I’m quickest to gripe at my husband if he does anything that requires me to say, “You know I’m not an idiot, right?” I hate it when someone either A) Tells me something that everyone would be capable of figuring out themselves or B) Tells me something I didn’t know but uses a tone implying I should have known it. The first one I hate because I’m not an idiot and don’t like being treated like one. The second I hate because I don’t want to feel like an idiot because someone is talking down to me. Being talked down to – even though it’s often warranted – is the thing that will get my blood boiling the fastest. Because it’s the thing I’m probably the most insecure about.

I’m not naturally smart, by any means. I always had to work hard for my good grades, and was still one of those students that could study for days for a test, ace it, and then forget it all the next day. MrZ could glance over his notes once, ace it, and remember it forever. This pissed me off our entire college career together. I have two degrees but am not well-read when it comes to literature or nonfictions. I prefer my Young Adult Wizards and Vampires…thank you very much. I often read blog posts about book clubs and feel a little insecure because the only time I ever went to a book club and felt okay about it was because the person who was holding it loaned me the Vampire book I was currently reading. I felt a little better about that. But most of the time? Eh. So, while I’m defensive about my intelligence, I don’t really every put forth efforts to make myself actually be more intelligent.

However, my Dad took grades and school very seriously. While I still stand by my Dad being the most amazing Dad I could have ever asked for – he did have a temper. And that temper showed it’s ugly face the most often when Dad was frustrated with either (A) My grades or (B) Me doing something REALLY dumb. Like locking my keys in my car. For the 15th time. The few (and sometimes many…as I was often doing stupid crap as a kid) times he’d lose his temper and scream at me – seemed to always involve me either doing poorly on something in school (WHICH WAS RARE) or me doing something airheaded (WHICH WAS OFTEN) so the screams from him would sometimes involve insults to my intelligence.

Needless to say? This is probably what has made me so defensive about my intelligence.

So – of course – the process of closing his estate has made me feel like a complete moron. First of all: I’ve made a bunch of mistakes. Some of the mistakes I’ve made were because I misinterpreted things. Others because I just didn’t know. And others because I assumed other people (like my lawyer) were responsible for those things. However, it seems like most of my mistakes were made because everyone outside the process: Lawyers, Auctioneers, CPAs, Title Companies – they all assume I know things I don’t. And that’s the part that PISSES ME OFF. I mean – why do I feel like all along this process that things are intuitive when THEY ARE NOT. Either I really am an idiot or other people have learned these things along the way when I haven’t. But how would I have learned them? Is it because most people are older when they go through this stuff so they have experience? My Dad has been dead almost a year now and he had the easiest estate on the planet…yet still! We can’t close things out because I was under the impression that this one waiver required an inventory that couldn’t be done until the house was sold. So, I worked on it all last week. Now? I find out they can’t give the estate the money for that house UNTIL THEY HAVE THAT WAIVER. And they asked for the form like I should have known all a long that they needed it. I didn’t even know what that form WAS until 2 weeks ago. BAH! They asked for a second form too which – THANK GOD – I actually have. But I didn’t know I needed that either – so it’s lucky I have it. I have no idea how I was supposed to know I needed this stuff. I feel like I’m not reading stacks of paperwork thoroughly enough – or that I missed some class in high school that everyone else had where you learn things about Probate. The thing is? It’s different in every state. So even if I had taken some sort of class like that – it wouldn’t do me any good because this is all crap from the state of TENNESSEE.

(Can you hear my frustration through the monitor? If not – maybe I should use more capital letters. That seems to make me feel better.)

I just find it a very Full Circle kind of thing that the estate belonging to the person who is probably responsible for making me defensive about my intelligence – is making me feel like a GIANT dumbass.

We decided to take NikkiZ to a 200m track this weekend to show her how long her race will be in Disneyworld this weekend. She’s doing the 200m on Saturday, MrZ is doing the 5K that day too. Then my half-maratahon is on Sunday. She did fine running the distance, she even did it quite quickly. We’re a bit worried about how she’ll handle everyone else running with her (The race is for kids age 4-6) because even with just MrZ and I she couldn’t stop turning around to look at us back at the starting point. And our biggest concern about that? Her busting her face and then getting trampled by a bunch of 5-year olds. Either way – she’s excited and she just looks adorable in her running gear. That’s all that really matters, right?

Now…onto the weekend from hell. When my in-laws came over for dinner last night, we spent the first 30 minutes discussing the long list of injuries our children had sustained in the last 48 hours. It was one of those weekends. This was how adorable my son was Sunday morning. And by “adorable” I mean “so pitiful it will break your heart.”

But that? Was a HUGE improvement to Saturday when he wouldn’t walk at all and opted instead to scoot/crawl anywhere he needed to go.

See…on Friday night (while I was picking up LilZ from the mall) AndyZ evidently decided to jump off the coffee table. MrZ says he landed flat on his feet but that he immediately grabbed his right leg and was all, “OOOOOOWWWWW!” I got home a short while later and he was still in a bit of pain. No swelling, no bruising, but he wouldn’t put any weight on it. He eventually fell asleep and we decided if he was hurt too bad he wouldn’t be able to sleep. The next morning when he woke up? He still wouldn’t put weight on it. And when I did the Smoosh Parts Of The Leg test where you try to find exactly where it hurts? He screamed bloody murder when I touched his shin. I decided we should head to the ER.

After two sets of X-Rays it was decided he hadn’t broken anything and that he had a hefty sprain. Where? They don’t know. Without swelling, bruising, or consistent responses to pain in a specific area – impossible to tell. But, we were supposed to keep giving him ibuprofen and to encourage, but not FORCE him to walk. Saturday? There was no walking because the only way we could get him to take any steps was to hold his hand and…well…force him to walk. So, he whined/fussed/moaned a lot and was carried a lot. It was so sad.

Sunday morning he did better, which was what I recorded above. He started walking holding on to walls and furniture, and by the end of the day it was just a wobble/limp slowing him down. I’m expecting him to be 100% by the time we leave for the half-marathon in Orlando on Thursday night. (He’s staying here since a 10 minute car ride makes him miserable – so an 11-hour one was out of the question.)

NikkiZ had her own set of issues with an gingivital abscess erupting in her mouth. Supposedly they grow from some sort of trauma (scratch, cut, etc) but we can’t pinpoint any one incident recently that could have started it. She falls down a lot. Not necessarily because she’s clumsy, but because she’s insane. She’s constantly doing some sort of crazy run/dance/flip routine that has her crashing into people, animals and furniture. Who knows. And the other injury? When she survived the attack from Lord Voldemort, of course.

She tells the story like this, “I was riding on brother’s shoulders and I couldn’t say, ‘red light!’ so I ran into a tree.” Hee. She was on his shoulders and a freaky stray branch from a very small tree got her in the face. He felt awful, especially when she came out wearing a huge bandaid over the scratch.

It’s been a rough weekend. I just paused writing this entry as AndyZ woke up (it’s 4:50 am) so I did the thing I always do. I made him some yogurt and we sat on the couch to cuddle and eat. WE DO THIS EVERY MORNING. Maybe it’s his leg, maybe it’s a case of the Mondays – but he is cranky and is starting the week/day off great by screaming for yogurt, “MORE YOGURT!” but then when I go to feed him he says, “NO YOGURT!” and shakes his head. Over and over and over again. AND OVER AGAIN SOME MORE. When I threaten to throw it away he says, “No, Mommy! More yogurt!” Wash. Rinse. Repeat. TIMES 90 MILLION. Fast-forward 45 minutes (or has it been 23 years?) and the cycle is still going.

It’s going to be a long day. But I guess as long as we make it through without any more injuries? Then it’s better than the weekend. Right?

Injuries to my own sanity of course, don’t count.

This has not been that productive of a parenting week for me. I had one day where I covered the table with paper and let the kids go wild (pictured alongside a cute diaper butt above) coloring – but other than that I’ve been trying to do probate, estate, and tax stuff for Dad and for my family. It’s been day after day of struggling to complete paperwork while simultaneously trying to keep the kids from eating poison. In other words, not the best parenting week, even though I was productive in other areas.

So, today? I’m doing an experiment. Or a torture session, depends on how you look at it. I’m going to focus just on the kids today. No housework (plenty of time to do that this weekend), no paperwork, no TV as a babysitter, and no escape via the solitaire game on my iPhone. I don’t have anything crazy exciting planned, I’m just going to see what a day looks like when I just focus on being a Mom. Not a bookkeeper, not a maid, not a cook, and not a super-stylish trendsetter.

(I have no idea why I threw that last one in there. It just seemed completely opposite of the picture in my head and sometimes opposites make me laugh! You should see me around light switches. The On/Off concept gets me giggling for hours.)

Have you ever done this one day? Or are you the kind of Mom that has enough patience and takes the Motherhood job so seriously that you dedicate yourself to days like this every day? If you are that type of Mom, can you come show me how to be more like you? Because I’m worried this day may kill me. Or them. I’ll keep you posted.