Monthly Archives: August 2012

Fall Aproaches

Posted on August 17, 2012 | Leave a comment

The summer is almost over, and I’m excited and nervous for the fall. It’ll be a big change for me, because Ari is going to school! I can’t believe this day is already here. He’s four years-olds. I remember being pregnant with him. I remember pushing him out. I remember nursing him day and night. I remember every moment leading up to Ari moving from baby to boy.

He’s a little man now.
When I previously thought about the first day of school, I thought I would cry. But I don’t think I’m going to now. I think he’s ready for it, and so am I. I’m actually excited. I’m excited for him to meet new friends, and explore, learn, and become a bigger human.
It’s going to be strange being home with just Samara. I wonder if she’ll be bored. She’s so used to having her big brother around.
I’ve already registered her for an art class, and I’m thinking about doing a music class with her as well. But I need to make sure I have time to work. I was thinking about putting her in some sort of day care for one day a week, but everything is so expensive! The trouble is I really need at least one solid day to work. I can transcribe and write during her naps, but it would help if I had a solid day to do what I need to do.
Changes are approaching, and I’m excited and nervous all rolled into one.
Friends in Brooklyn, do you know of a low cost program where Samara can go one day a week?
Is everybody excited for the first day of school?

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A Taste of Wool Part 6

Posted on August 16, 2012 | Leave a comment

Was Harry crazy or were Mz. Sweeny and the rest of the school officials the crazy ones? I knew he wasn’t crazy, and so will you too soon, but they wouldn’t and couldn’t (for that matter) listen to me. Harry would bellow at Dr. Drillateral:

“You think I’m crazy! I’m not crazy!” Dr. Drillateral would politely nod and respond
“Do you think that I think you’re crazy?” To which Harry would reply
“BLAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Or something of the sort.
Therapy sessions had progressed to this point, and Dr. Drillateral felt as if there at a stalemate. When their sessions started, Dr. Drillateral couldn’t get Harry to talk at all. In fact, if Harry uttered anything at all, even if it wasn’t quite a word, Dr. Drillateral considered this therapeutic progress.
Any vocalization at all impressed Dr. Drillateral. If he had confided this in Mz. Sweeny, however, she would have asked “what do you mean by ‘vocalization?’” So he refrained from disclosing too much information to her about Harry’s therapeutic sessions. He simply told her that Harry was making wonderful progress. That was all she wanted to hear anyhow.
***
Terence Conrad was new to Rutherford Bacon. He had just moved to town and was about to start the fourth grade in a new school. Terrence was used to moving, and his mother had shown him that it was indeed possible to move more than ten times in one’s life. Since Terrence had only lived nine years on this planet, it evened out to about one move per year of life.
During the course of his travels, Terrence had had some strange encounters with regard to elementary education. In Terrence’s third grade class, his teacher, Ms. Hanover, kept two pet hamsters in the classroom. It seemed to Terrence that there was something a little off beat about Ms. Hanover, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Terrence’s suspicions were confirmed one day when he was supposed to be out in the yard playing dodgeball. He was bored, and rather curious as to what it was that Ms. Hanover did while the others were out getting assaulted with a giant red blow up ball.
When Terrence quietly tip-toed up to the doorway of his third grade classroom, he was amazed by what he saw. Ms. Hanover was sitting on the beige carpet enclosed by bookshelves, her legs spread eagle revealing her underwear (for she was wearing a skirt) waiting for the innocent hamster to enter the abyss between her thighs.
Terrence was not at all interested as to what Ms. Hanover did with the rest of the 40 minute recess block, and he decided to leave.
Now he was beginning the fourth grade hamster free. In fact that was the first thing that he bothered to check in Urie’s classroom, whether or not Urie kept classroom pets. Fortunately Mr. Urie was allergic to hamsters, and pretty much any other animal with fur. And even if he wasn’t, Terrence was pretty sure that Urie looked far different from Ms. Hanover in a skirt.
***
This is part six of my short story, A Taste of Wool. I will be revealing a new part each Wednesday (even though today is clearly not Wednesday and this is late) as a part of Wool Wednesdays. To read Part 5 click here.

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Posted in A Taste of Wool, Part 6, Uh oh it's actually Thursday, Wool Wednesday

A Fun Day With Allison From Sitters Studio!

Posted on August 14, 2012 | Leave a comment
I never call a babysitter. I’m with my kids all day every day. Unless Wil is home from work and he watches them, or my parents hang out with them for an hour or two.
But the other day, none of those options were available to me, and I started to panic, because I had an acupuncture appointment that I really didn’t want to miss.
I thought long and hard about my predicament and then I realized I had another option.
I recalled Ari’s visits to Playtime. I remembered the Artist Sitters™ from Sitters Studio.
Ari loved hanging out with the Artist Sitters™, while I went to the theater! For those of you that aren’t familiar with Sitters Studio, it’s very unique, because the baby sitters are also artists of some kind, whether it be actors, dancers, circus performers or poets.
I headed to Google and found Sitters Studio, and gave them a call. I was greeted by a gregarious Robby in customer service. He told me what the rates were, and assured me that he would find me an awesome babysitter would would mesh with my kids’ personalities, which I described to him in detail over the phone.
Hi Robby, if you’re reading this, you’re amazing!
Robby sent me the bio for Allison, the Artist Sitter™ who would be coming the next day. I was psyched because in her bio, which talked about her experience in theater and dance, it also said that she had over 10 years of experience working with kids!
Allison came over and she was full of sunshine and rainbows! I loved her instantly and so did my kids.

After I spent 10 minutes looking for my keys, I finally got out the door, and I felt very assured leaving my kids with Allison. She listened to everything I told her about the kids, and seemed very competent.
My husband came home to pick up the kids from Allison, and he told me that Ari could not stop talking about what a great time he and Allison had together. They made robot drawings, and did collage art together.

Samara even participated!

Allison even left us with a report card of what the kids did when they were with her, what they ate, and other fun observations that she noticed about them, such as “Ari is very creative” and “Samara is adorable.”
Well Allison, you’re adorable, and we can’t wait for you to come play with us again!
Thank you Sitters Studio for a wonderful childcare experience.
For more information about Sitters Studio click here!

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Just a Little…

Posted on August 13, 2012 | Leave a comment

I had an epiphany yesterday. Hey, that would be a pretty rad name for a child, Epiphany. Anyhow, I realized that I’ve been complaining about Ari’s teenager-like behavior and outbursts a lot. While it’s true that he’s going through a difficult phase, pushing boundaries, testing limits, making me feel like pulling my hair out, it’s not him.

It’s not him!
It’s me.
He’s four years-old. He’s doing all the stuff that he’s supposed to be doing.
I’m the one who’s out of control. I’m the one who’s having difficulty handling it. I’m the one that needs to work on myself.
And I know exactly what I’m missing.
Are you ready for it?
Here it is, this is what I need:

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Attempted Murder on The Upper East Side With Peanut Butter Bagel

Posted on August 12, 2012 | Leave a comment
Today, my friends Cori and Kodjo and our kids, Ollie, Ivy, Samara and Ari all went to the Central Park Zoo.
It was a lot of fun, until we set foot on an Upper East Side playground. Upon entering the playground we were met with a resounding amount of hostile looks and strange interactions. It was like they knew the Brooklyn parents were coming.
Here’s one interaction that particularly stood out in my mind as bizarre:
I went to see what Ari was up to on the giant slide while Cori was keeping an eye on Samara. When I returned, Cori informed me that one mother let her know that Samara should stay away from her stroller, because Samara was eating a bagel with peanut butter on it, and one of her twin girls had a severe peanut allergy.
When I returned, Cori let me know what this woman said.
Cori and I immediately starting asking the mom questions, out of genuine curiosity, did she have an epi pen? Could her daughter eat items that were made in the same factory as nuts? The woman became noticeably defensive.
“It’s just life!” She said shrugging her shoulders. “Things could be worse!”
I believe she wanted to call attention to herself, however, insinuating that my child was dangerous to her child, and that I should keep my 18 month old away from hers, in my humble opinion, was total bullshit and completely ridiculous.
We were in a public place. We weren’t in a school, or even an inclosed place that might be even more hazardous.
If she was so concerned about the safety of her child, then she should move her kid herself! Tell her daughter to keep away from the little girl with the peanut butter. Why is her problem now my problem?
If I were playing the game “Clue,” and wanted to relate to you what just happened, I would say it was Samara at the playground with the peanut butter bagel. She’s clearly an attempted murderer.
Discuss!

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Pigeons and The Playground

Posted on August 11, 2012 | Leave a comment

There’s something about me that you may not know, but you will know it after today. I hate pigeons. I don’t think I never realized how much I actually hated them until today.

Let me tell you a story.
Ari, Samara and I went to the playground.
We had a pit stop at Blue Sky Bakery on the way there. Ari got a cookie and Samara and I picked up muffins, Pumpkin Apple Walnut for her and Zucchini triple berry for me. I also got a iced coffee with half and half and cinnamon. I packed it all in a paper bag and we headed to the playground with the goods.
Upon arriving at the playground, I sat on a bench and set the kids loose to play.
Guess what?
They didn’t want to go anywhere. All they wanted to do was sit on the bench and watch the pigeons, who were hanging around next to the bench where I was trying to drink my iced coffee in peace.
I love my children, but I brought them to the playground so that they would leave me alone.
I wanted them to go find someone else to play with besides me so that I could enjoy my iced coffee, and have a moment to not think.
The pigeons were so captivated by my breakfast that they would not leave me the hell alone, and therefore, my kids would not leave the bench. It was a vicious cycle. Want to know more?
Is it too much to ask to be able to have a solitary moment without the company of rats with wings?
I hate pigeons. Do you?

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I Want to Run Through The Sprinkler of Life

Posted on August 9, 2012 | Leave a comment

The other day I ran through the sprinklers at the playground fully clothed wearing my favorite dress. Ari asked me to do it. He said:

“Mommy, will you run in the sprinkler with me?”
I thought about it for a second. I’m annoyed with myself that I even questioned the idea of running through the sprinkler, as that is a fun thing to do. It shouldn’t be a question.
I want to be fun. I want to enjoy things in life. I don’t want to be thinking about stuffy responsible adult things like budgets, 401ks, and college funds. College funds are important though, but so is fun.
There has to be a balance. I love the joy in Ari’s eyes when he is immersed in something that he loves. I strive every day to achieve that joy within myself. There are few things that give me that internal ecstasy, writing is one of them.
When I write, I feel free, I feel like I’m flying, like I can say anything. I feel unfiltered, like my voice can be heard.
I feel the same way about singing. When I sing, I don’t think, I just sing. I do it!
I want to run through the sprinkler of life! I don’t want to become a stuffy grownup who thinks about shit all the time. I just want to be and to live!
What makes you feel alive?

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A Taste of Wool Part 5

Posted on August 8, 2012 | Leave a comment

“I’m afraid he’s not well.” sighed Dr. Drillateral Eisenger PhD. “He’s suffering from a delusional disorder in which he believes that he is actually having conversing with this mop of his.”

Mz. Sweeny narrowed her eyes and leaned in closer to Dr. Drillateral.
“How do you mean conversing?”
“I mean,” said Dr. Drillateral clearing his throat “that Harry believes that the mop can vocalize.”
Mz. Sweeny smiled that vacant smile of hers and blinked exactly twice, Dr. Drillateral counted.
“What exactly do you mean vocalize?”
Dr. Drillateral was a patient man, so he understood that the lack of clarity in this situation was due to Mz. Sweeny’s stupidity. He proceeded, out of sympathy for her lack of intellect, to entertain her moronic queries. Dr. Drillateral stared directly at Mz. Sweeny’s sagging breasts, which were climbing out of the lavender low cut blouse that she was wearing and said:
“I mean that he thinks the mop can talk, just like you and I are talking right now.”
“Well good lord! That’s not possible!” Said Mz. Sweeny in disbelief.
“Yes, Mz. Sweeny. I know that, and you know that, but he…”
“Doesn’t know that?” She asked incredulously.
“Exactly!” Dr. Drillateral beamed. He had an overwhelming urge to sleep with her as a reward for getting the punchline. But he quickly repressed this urge as Mz. Sweeny brushed aside a strand of her hair.
“Well what are we going to do?” Mz. Sweeny moaned.
“Well, ” Dr. Drillateral said calmly “He needs help. he might need to be put on some sort of medication.
“No no! I don’t care about that!” Mz. Sweeny exploded. “I mean, how is it going to look if the Rutherford Bacon Elementary School janitor is institutionalized?! No one will ever want to send their children here again.”
Mz. Sweeny took a deep breath and realized that she had just lashed out at Dr. Drillateral, who was staring wide-eyed at her. The notion of sleeping with Mz. Sweeny has packed up and gone on an unpleasant trip to Antarctica. He was left all by his lonesome staring at this idiotic creature in disgust.
“We can’t let him go! He stays here for the good of the community, the welfare of the little ones. Plus, we can’t have this awful news spreading around town. Doctor, what do you suggest we do?”
Dr. Drillateral signed for what seemed to him like the 20th time and said:
“I’m going to be honest with you, at the very least he needs counseling.”
“What exactly do you mean by counseling?”Asked Mz. Sweeny in all sincerity.
Here we go again, thought Drillateral. His patience was waning.
“Therapy! He needs therapy!” He exploded.
As soon as he blurted out those words, he knew what question was coming next.
***
This is part five of my short story, A Taste of Wool. I will be posting a new part each Wednesday as a part of Wool Wednesdays! To read part 4 click here.

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Posted in A Taste of Wool, Part 5, Wool Wednesday

Spoiled

Posted on August 5, 2012 | Leave a comment

Ari has been throwing massive tantrums lately if he doesn’t get what he wants. For example, if Wil or I tell him that he can’t watch any more TV and he has to go to sleep he freaks out and starts crying and writhing on the floor. If we ignore it, eventually he stops, but it’s really intense and hard to deal with.

Last night Wil said to me:
“Babe, I think we spoiled him, that’s why he acts like that.”
“What do you mean?” I asked
“We buy him toys all the time, he needs to listen to us and behave to get what he wants.”
I agreed with Wil that I wanted Ari to listen to us. I also expressed my want for him to not to writhe on the floor in protest when he doesn’t get what he wants. But this whole conversation got me thinking about the word “spoiled.”
Is it possible to “spoil” a child? I love my son. He means the world to me. I want to do everything I can to give him a good life and make him happy. I want him to be content. Does this mean I’m “spoiling him?” I don’t know.
Some people might equate spoiling a child with the absence of discipline. If a child doesn’t receive “time outs” or the like, is this child spoiled?
The questions began to brew in my mind:
Is a child who receives a lot of toys spoiled?
Is a child who tantrums but still gets his/her needs met spoiled?
Is a child whose needs are met considered spoiled?
Because to me, spoiled has a negative connotation. If milk is spoiled it tasted wretched and needs to be thrown out. I don’t think children should be equated with rotten milk.
What’s the opposite of a “spoiled child?” Is it a child whose needs are not met, a neglected child?
We do our best as parents to meet the needs of our children. I think the word “spoiled” should be thrown out with the rotten milk.
What do you think? Is there such a thing as a spoiled child?

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Ari, You’re Going To Hate Me When You’re 16 But…

Posted on August 4, 2012 | Leave a comment

Me: Ari! You didn’t pee in your bed last night! High five.
(We high five)
Me: You know why?
Ari: Why?
Me: Because you didn’t drink a lot of water before you went to bed.
Ari: No, no. It’s because I held my penis when I went to sleep.
???

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