On Tuesday my daughter and I went to the zoo. She'd recently squashed my sunglasses, so we stopped at the local Walgreens to find a new pair of cheap mommy sunglasses. On the way into the store I noticed a dollar sitting on the sidewalk. I said, "Hey look! A dollar!" She reached down and picked it up - unsure of its importance. Had it been a quarter she would have been ecstatic, but as of yet, I've avoided giving her bills. I said, "That is pretty neat - a whole dollar, you should put it in your pocket and use it at the zoo to ride the carousel." She was pleased with this, but still looked at the dollar like it was funny paper that she should not keep because clearly, it was not really hers.
When we went in to Walgreens I looked at a few items. In the hair accessory aisle she set the dollar next to other green items and said, "Look match." When I'd selected my clip, I said, "Ok. Next we need to buy daddy some shaving cream. Let's go!" She said, "Shaving peam?" while following me out of the aisle with no dollar in hand. I stopped and said, "What about your dollar?" She replied, "Oh." She found it next to a green hair brush and said, "I found it!" In each aisle we visited she did the same thing, set it down, walked away from it to play with something else and then forgot about its existence completely.
At the checkout she did everything she could to pay for my things with her single dollar. She handed it directly to the cashier, she set it next to the cashiers hand, she waved it in the air like a little flag. Finally I kneeled and said, "Hunny, that dollar belongs to you now. You found it and you can keep it." She said, "Ok Mama." Certain the child understood the situation, I paid and we left. Once outside I said, "You're dollar is in your pocket, right?" She replied, "No." We turned around and found the dollar resting on a shelf near the exit.
So now I'm a dollar richer and she "found" a quarter in the car and can't stop talking about putting it in her piggy bank. Problem solved.
9.17.2009
8.26.2009
Telling the little one
I have begun to "show" - as they say about pregnant women. Therefore, I thought it time to tell the youngster about her new sibling arrival. She's heard it a million times before, as she was usually in ear shot of our announcement. Nevertheless, I thought it was important to have a little chat with her about the baby.
Yesterday, I simply said that mommy is going to have a baby. She will be a big sister, much like her current favorite cartoon character, Dora. She looked at my tummy for a while. Then she got on top of me, sitting directly on my tummy and said, "Now I sit on baby." Today when we were in the car she said, "Where did Mommy's baby go? Oh no. Its gone."
She's already trying to squash the little booger in utero. This might be more of a challenge than I'd previously thought. I could start ignoring her more, I guess. Oye vey.
Yesterday, I simply said that mommy is going to have a baby. She will be a big sister, much like her current favorite cartoon character, Dora. She looked at my tummy for a while. Then she got on top of me, sitting directly on my tummy and said, "Now I sit on baby." Today when we were in the car she said, "Where did Mommy's baby go? Oh no. Its gone."
She's already trying to squash the little booger in utero. This might be more of a challenge than I'd previously thought. I could start ignoring her more, I guess. Oye vey.
7.21.2009
Mel's Top Ten: I know I'm pregnant when...
1. I don't want Doritos. I NEED Doritos. I'll drive to the store specifically for Doritos and then eat them the entire way home. Nacho cheese is delicious.
2. I forget anything and everything I might need to do, just did, and thought I was going to do.
3. If my toddler stays up past her bedtime I become Zombie Mommy.
4. Milk moustache advertisements make my mouth water.
5. I show up on time to the ob/gyn, but I drove to her previous office, which she hasn't used for two years.
6. I think, "Maybe I should eat" but within 10 minutes its too late, I'm as hungry as a ravenous beast.
7. My breasts are no longer used in pleasurable experiences - they have turned into a functional tool.
8. Dusting regularly involves the use of a shop vac.
9. Walmart's "mother-daughter" commercials make me cry.
10. I dream about forgetting stuff and wake up crying because I can't remember what I forgot...in my dream.
2. I forget anything and everything I might need to do, just did, and thought I was going to do.
3. If my toddler stays up past her bedtime I become Zombie Mommy.
4. Milk moustache advertisements make my mouth water.
5. I show up on time to the ob/gyn, but I drove to her previous office, which she hasn't used for two years.
6. I think, "Maybe I should eat" but within 10 minutes its too late, I'm as hungry as a ravenous beast.
7. My breasts are no longer used in pleasurable experiences - they have turned into a functional tool.
8. Dusting regularly involves the use of a shop vac.
9. Walmart's "mother-daughter" commercials make me cry.
10. I dream about forgetting stuff and wake up crying because I can't remember what I forgot...in my dream.
5.12.2009
Swimming for suckers
Tuesdays the little lady and I hit the pool for her swim lesson. It is currently the most painful 30 minutes of my life. Its as if the clock stops moving.
Let me start by saying, I love to swim. You've heard me mention triathlon - you understand? I swim regularly. I know how, I do it pretty well. Teaching my daughter to swim, however, seems to involve no skill development.
The mommy and me swim lesson involves two things - singing to my 30 pound daughter while holding her. I can skip weights today - you understand? Its like the class is designed to introduce the water to a child. My child is 2; she has lived through two summers at the pool. So you see, the real issue here is that while holding my 30 pound daughter she is twisting and writhing about trying to get away from me, in deep water, the entire time. Often she adds yelling, "No no no MOMMY NO" to her routine. She has NO interest in singing the cheesy songs because this girl, like her mother, wants to SWIM. She does not want to take direction from her mother about what hand movements go with this song or that song. She wants to swim. It seems she does not want her mother to be involved. I gather this from the yelling, you see.
I will say to her, "Do you want me to let go?" She will say yes, then she bobs under water, looking directly at me. When she comes up she is THRILLED. That part is fun. When we sing "Humpty Dumpty" and she gets to jump into the pool - she is THRILLED again.
Finally today the teacher mentioned how my girl should go up a level next session. Though this will still involve the mommy and me concept - or the "No no no no no no MOMMY NO" concept. I'm considering private lessons.
Let me start by saying, I love to swim. You've heard me mention triathlon - you understand? I swim regularly. I know how, I do it pretty well. Teaching my daughter to swim, however, seems to involve no skill development.
The mommy and me swim lesson involves two things - singing to my 30 pound daughter while holding her. I can skip weights today - you understand? Its like the class is designed to introduce the water to a child. My child is 2; she has lived through two summers at the pool. So you see, the real issue here is that while holding my 30 pound daughter she is twisting and writhing about trying to get away from me, in deep water, the entire time. Often she adds yelling, "No no no MOMMY NO" to her routine. She has NO interest in singing the cheesy songs because this girl, like her mother, wants to SWIM. She does not want to take direction from her mother about what hand movements go with this song or that song. She wants to swim. It seems she does not want her mother to be involved. I gather this from the yelling, you see.
I will say to her, "Do you want me to let go?" She will say yes, then she bobs under water, looking directly at me. When she comes up she is THRILLED. That part is fun. When we sing "Humpty Dumpty" and she gets to jump into the pool - she is THRILLED again.
Finally today the teacher mentioned how my girl should go up a level next session. Though this will still involve the mommy and me concept - or the "No no no no no no MOMMY NO" concept. I'm considering private lessons.
3.27.2009
embarrassed, literally
I like to swim. I swim once a week, usually on Wednesdays, in an effort to prepare for a triathlon (sprint distance) coming up in June. I swim at the YMCA. It is perfect because my daughter can go and play (or cry) in the Kidz Korner. Kidz Zone. Whatever they call it. I know it is spelled incorrectly and is supposed to be "cute." Tangent. It is nice too because the kids area looks out onto the family pool so the kids can watch people swim through the windows.
Two weeks ago I went for a swim. I brought the little one's swimsuit, too, so that she and I could play together in the family pool after I swam laps. The family pool at my YMCA is incredible. There is a large portion of zero depth and it has water slides, play areas, water falls, and even a resistance pool. (By that I mean the water goes in one direction while you walk in the opposite direction - I'm sure there is a technical term for this, I just can't think of it. I believe it is used for physical therapy).
I dropped the girl off and then got changed into my black Speedo suit in the locker room. When I put it on, I noticed along the neckline it was a little bit thin. Before I left the locker room I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure my bits and pieces were not hanging out, then I head into the lap pool for a twenty five minute swim. Just as I was finishing another swimmer joined my lane, we exchanged a few pleasantries and I exited the pool.
Next, I sat in the sauna for a few minutes to warm up and dry off a bit before heading to pick up the chicken. I put on my red cover up dress and flip flops to walk through the halls of the YMCA. We returned to the locker room, changed her clothes, and headed for the family pool which opens at 5 pm. We were a few minutes early so we sat on the floor just outside the entrance playing pat-a-cake and counting the seconds until we could fun it up. When the lifeguards started to enter, we went in, they put her in a "I'm too young to swim" red bracelet and we headed for the zero depth area of the family pool. I placed my cover up, flip flops, and our towels on one of the benches and we hit the water. From 5 pm until 5:20 there weren't many other people in the pool. A couple dads with their kids and the lifeguards. At 5:30 it started to pick up quite a bit. Many more dads came in, I remember thinking, "Wow there are a lot of dads here today." There were other moms in the pool, but lots of men. Many men.
At 5:40 one of the women from inside the kids area waved at my daughter. My girl waved at her. I smiled, waved, and then we walked out into the pool a bit and I sat down. When I stood up I was looking out toward the pool, but then turned around and looked back at the window where the woman, who had just waved at my daughter, was flailing her arms in the air - waving to me, directing me to come over to the window. I picked up the wee one, walked over to the window and said, "Hi Beth* what's up?" She mimed something at me. I said, "I don't understand?" One of the other kids area employees brought her a piece of paper and a pen, Beth wrote frantically on the paper, then, in a very secretive manner, held it up to the window. It read: "Your swim suit ripped." EEK. GASP. I said, "WHAT? WHERE?" This time I read her lips perfectly, "YOUR BUTT."
Immediately I turned around and put my butt against the wall. My daughter pointed to the pool, I said, "Oh no. We gotta go!" I put my red cover up dress on, turned around, thanked Beth, and b-lined it for the locker room. Once there, I stood in front of the mirror, raised my dress and saw the rip. It was the size of a silver dollar pancake, partially on my cheek and partially on my crack.
I thought, "this is what 'mortified' feels like." I hurried us both out of our wet suits, mine went into the garbage, and then we made it to the car without making eye contact with anyone who might have just seen my rear end. BARE. AT THE YMCA. It is a Christian Association! Mortified.
I got in the car, called my husband and said, "Open a bottle of wine, I need a drink. I just had the most embarrassing thing happen to me." When I walked in, the glass was already poured. I set our daughter in front of the TV, took a big swig and told my husband what I'd, inadvertently, done. He said, "Well at least you didn't have a code brown in the family pool!"
There is something worse than bare butt at the YMCA after all.
Two weeks ago I went for a swim. I brought the little one's swimsuit, too, so that she and I could play together in the family pool after I swam laps. The family pool at my YMCA is incredible. There is a large portion of zero depth and it has water slides, play areas, water falls, and even a resistance pool. (By that I mean the water goes in one direction while you walk in the opposite direction - I'm sure there is a technical term for this, I just can't think of it. I believe it is used for physical therapy).
I dropped the girl off and then got changed into my black Speedo suit in the locker room. When I put it on, I noticed along the neckline it was a little bit thin. Before I left the locker room I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure my bits and pieces were not hanging out, then I head into the lap pool for a twenty five minute swim. Just as I was finishing another swimmer joined my lane, we exchanged a few pleasantries and I exited the pool.
Next, I sat in the sauna for a few minutes to warm up and dry off a bit before heading to pick up the chicken. I put on my red cover up dress and flip flops to walk through the halls of the YMCA. We returned to the locker room, changed her clothes, and headed for the family pool which opens at 5 pm. We were a few minutes early so we sat on the floor just outside the entrance playing pat-a-cake and counting the seconds until we could fun it up. When the lifeguards started to enter, we went in, they put her in a "I'm too young to swim" red bracelet and we headed for the zero depth area of the family pool. I placed my cover up, flip flops, and our towels on one of the benches and we hit the water. From 5 pm until 5:20 there weren't many other people in the pool. A couple dads with their kids and the lifeguards. At 5:30 it started to pick up quite a bit. Many more dads came in, I remember thinking, "Wow there are a lot of dads here today." There were other moms in the pool, but lots of men. Many men.
At 5:40 one of the women from inside the kids area waved at my daughter. My girl waved at her. I smiled, waved, and then we walked out into the pool a bit and I sat down. When I stood up I was looking out toward the pool, but then turned around and looked back at the window where the woman, who had just waved at my daughter, was flailing her arms in the air - waving to me, directing me to come over to the window. I picked up the wee one, walked over to the window and said, "Hi Beth* what's up?" She mimed something at me. I said, "I don't understand?" One of the other kids area employees brought her a piece of paper and a pen, Beth wrote frantically on the paper, then, in a very secretive manner, held it up to the window. It read: "Your swim suit ripped." EEK. GASP. I said, "WHAT? WHERE?" This time I read her lips perfectly, "YOUR BUTT."
Immediately I turned around and put my butt against the wall. My daughter pointed to the pool, I said, "Oh no. We gotta go!" I put my red cover up dress on, turned around, thanked Beth, and b-lined it for the locker room. Once there, I stood in front of the mirror, raised my dress and saw the rip. It was the size of a silver dollar pancake, partially on my cheek and partially on my crack.
I thought, "this is what 'mortified' feels like." I hurried us both out of our wet suits, mine went into the garbage, and then we made it to the car without making eye contact with anyone who might have just seen my rear end. BARE. AT THE YMCA. It is a Christian Association! Mortified.
I got in the car, called my husband and said, "Open a bottle of wine, I need a drink. I just had the most embarrassing thing happen to me." When I walked in, the glass was already poured. I set our daughter in front of the TV, took a big swig and told my husband what I'd, inadvertently, done. He said, "Well at least you didn't have a code brown in the family pool!"
There is something worse than bare butt at the YMCA after all.
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