Health and Classes

What a week we’ve had. We’ve all been fighting this cold/illness/evil bug of doom for over a week and it decided to kick us while we were all down. On Tuesday, I took OP with me to the walk-in clinic for pink eye. Does my daughter have pink eye? Thankfully, no. Yet somehow Mommy has pink eye, but OP’s eyes are perfect. I have no idea how she missed it and how I got it if not from her.

On Wednesday, OP was sent home with fever. The Husband took her to the regular doctor and she has a sinus infection. Thursday, the Husband went to the walk-in clinic and came home with a diagnosis of sinus infection. Everyone’s on some sort of drug and everyone is tired of being sick. The Husband and OP are getting noticeably better. I, on the other hand, no longer have a pink eye. I’m feeling better overall, but not as well as the rest of my antibiotic-filled family.

I have snot!

On top of all the illness, this was my first week of my class. I was a little nervous before hand. First, as we all know from my non-graded, knitting class I NEED AN A. Second, I’m feeling the old. I’m only 35, but I’m almost twice the age of the freshmen. For those who don’t have a calculator, half of 35 is 17.5. Freshmen are 18. I’m old.

The first day of class was…frustrating. The professor is an expert in his field and I’ve heard he’s very good, but he’s the type of teacher who should be teaching barefoot, sporting love beads, and playing bongo drums. I’d say he would be smoking, but it is an exercise science class. The first class was devoted to the professor learning all 45 students’ names and having random conversations about something everyone said. My little inner Baljeet died a bit inside.

The second class was much better, although, again he was missing the bongo drums. Class covered an intro to what Exercise Science is and progressed into homeostasis, steady state, and inner control systems. I learned a lot. Thankfully I read the assigned chapters before class (go inner Baljeet!) because the book content was rushed over thanks to the intro and some outside conversations about health. Of course, the best part were the outside conversations.

So far I like the class, although we haven’t really gotten into the knitty gritty of it yet. There was no lab this week, so I’m sure I’ll be nervous next week before lab. I think I have to wear exercise clothing for lab. Oy. Hopefully I can exercise without hacking up a lung next week or I really will feel old.

Look, I'm mommy after a slow walk. Sick makes mommy's exercise funny.

 

Birthday Video

I realized, I never posted the video I made for OP’s 2nd birthday. It’s a simple photo montage, but it’s amazing (to me, probably not you) to see how much she has grown this year. OP LOVES to watch both videos. I think I watch them 4 times a week. She narrates the pictures and laughs. I love watching her reaction. I hope to do it every year, at least for a while. I suspect when she’s 15, they may not be quite as interesting.

2 Years Old! from Chazari on Vimeo.

Thank you for making this past year so much fun. Song is “Let My Love Open the Door” by Pete T0wnshend

If you are interested, here’s her 1 year video.

One Year from Chazari on Vimeo.

On the darkest day of the year, the sunniest baby was born. It’s been a wonderful year, little one. We can’t wait for the next one.

Music by the amazing Joshua Radin.

Tales from around here

I took Friday off to give myself a four day week. I figured that it may very well be the last time I can take off before all the big projects hit at work, and I thought it would be fun to knit, knit, and knit. The Husband decided to try to spoil my day by coming home sick around 2:00 and sleeping. How dare he? Poor thing was sick most of the weekend. At least on Saturday he had the day to himself as I went out with my very awesome friend from Sweet Gracie Mae. We had a blast shopping for fabric things, eating vegan, and buying the best pasta I have ever had from Flour City Pasta.

Am I not the queen of linking to stores today?

Anyway, I then started getting a nasty cold, but I had hoped that it wouldn’t become the nasty disease the Husband had. Yesterday, it started and last night I couldn’t sleep. I’m home today doing some work, failing to sleep, and resting.

So what else is going on around here?

OP is obsessed with her snow boots. That’s all she wants to wear and it’s driving me mad. I guess it’s because they are outdoor snow boots and make her feet smell. They are not easy running around like a mad child shoes. I’m trying to let it go and let her express herself, although I have thought about buying her a second pair of boots but then she probably wouldn’t wear them anyway.

I found Raising My Rainbow (link crazy!), which is a mommy blog covering the “Adventures in raising a slightly effeminate, possibly gay, totally fabulous son.” The parents of this kid are amazing. They let him express himself through clothing and toys that are non-traditional for boys. In other words, they let the kid wear tutus play with barbies if that’s what he wants. It’s inspiring. I suspect they have to put some limitations of course. If it’s cold and raining, maybe he wears his pretty pink galoshes instead of the sparkly dress shoes.

We try very hard to do the same with OP. Not because of the blog, we’ve been doing it since day one although I’m not great at it yet. OP is very normal in her gender issues, and obviously it’s not the same for a girl if she wasn’t (for some reason it’s okay for a girl to wear camo pants, a football jersey, and work boots while playing with cars but if a boy plays with dolls the world will end!!!). But we try to let her express herself through her clothes and play how she wants, within reason. We have some limitations. She can’t juggle knives of course (unless mommy is really tired and desperate) and she’s not allowed to wear PJs during the day unless there’s a special reason. One, in the winter it’s not warm enough, and two, we don’t have enough of the darn things and I don’t want to do laundry every 3 days. I’m a bitch that way. But the boots are driving me nuts. I should get a picture of them, though, they are adorable. It’s a learning process and I’m getting better at it. Why can’t she just wear her sneakers some times!?!

Wait until I'm a teenager, Mommy. You'll be in the loony bin!

 

Christmas Memories

In a Jewish household, Christmas can be the most boring day of the year. Everyone is busy and pretty much nothing is open. Growing up the day was sometimes spent volunteering at one of the churches to serve Christmas dinner to locals who had nowhere else to go. I miss volunteering like that, although I don’t miss everyone in town knowing who I was. When your Dad worked in one social service area and your Mom the other, everyone at that dinner knew the Sister and I.

Other years, Christmas days included watching a Muppet Christmas Carol. Why, you ask? Well, for one thing, it’s the Muppets. For another, it’s a good movie. I introduced it to OP a few weeks ago. She seemed to like it, but the ghost of Christmas yet to come scared her. We skipped those scenes.

No matter what we did though, our Christmas Day ended with corned beef and cabbage and Daddy’s Chocolate Cake for dessert. My Dad’s birthday was December 25, and in our family the birthday person got to pick dinner. Even when I’m 103, I will still think about corned beef and cabbage on that day.

When I met the Husband, he introduced me to “Jewish Christmas,” which is his family’s tradition of going out to the movies and eating Chinese for dinner. It’s a lot of fun. We did that a few times with his parents. Last year, I was on a plane to Austin to help my sister with her new baby boy. The year before that, I was home with 4-day-old baby girl and a sliced abdomen.

While I have whiled the hours away on Dec 25 in so many different ways, every way was with family or friends. I hope, dear readers, no matter how you spend or celebrate the day that you are with those you love and cherish. I wish you a happy day and happy thoughts that your year to come will be a good one. To my Dad, I wish you Happy Birthday wherever you are.

Dad and his girls (I'm the one who looks like a boy)

What I Never Expected

OP’s second (!) birthday is this week, and we’ll be celebrating with grandma and grandpa tonight. I’ve been thinking about the last two years with her. Parenthood is a tricky thing. Before you have the baby you know exactly how you will act as a parent. Discipline won’t be a problem because you read some book by Dr. Hot Right Now. Your child will never act up in public. You will have tons of energy, because of course your child will sleep through the night. I will admit, I’m guilty of some of it. I never read the book, but I had certain beliefs with discipline.  I fully expected my kid to act up in public, but I didn’t expect how horrified I would feel. I’m exhausted beyond what I every expected even though my kid does sleep through the night.

I’ve learned a lot about my parent self in the last two years. So to bore you, here’s some highlights.

I’m more patient that I ever imagined

I have never been a patient person. I get annoyed very easily and when I think back to my baby-sitting experience, it’s the one thing I wish I could change. With OP, however, I have patience to spare. (My mom always said it’s different with your kid. Darn her, she was right.)

If I slept only 3 hours last night and now OP is having a temper tantrum because Sesame Street is over and we have to go to day care and she doesn’t want to go to day care in these clothes where are her PJs? She just wants her PJs and Sesame Street and you never let me do what I want to do!!!!!! I get short and irritated with her, but I don’t throw her out the window*, I don’t yell at her, I don’t scream FINE, SIT AROUND IN YOUR PJS FOR ALL I CARE and then stomp off in a fit. Two of the three, I thought I would do. Instead, I pick her up like normal and say, in a somewhat chipper/soothing voice although probably angrier than I think, that I understand that she’s mad but she has to go to day care in clothes blah blah blah. It’s so weird. I don’t know who I am.

Of course, I have less patience for the Husband. Maybe I’m still me, it’s just transferring.

*Hyperbole y’all.

What if I wore a hat with my PJs?

I’m one of those moms

You know those crazy people talking to themselves? I do that, but with OP. I talk to her constantly in the store, and not always quietly. “Oh look, OP, it’s an avocado!” “Can you turn the cart rocket to the right?” It’s a sickness and I can only imagine that it’s obnoxious. People stare at me.

I get my crazy from my Mommy.

I let discipline fly out the window

I’m old school when it comes to discipline. No, not spanking, but boundaries, consequences, and discipline. Of course, I was raised with “You want me to give you something to cry about” when you tried to work the system with some tears. My parents followed through every time and I turned out okay. More or less.

Someone told me they heard a parent in a store tell their child that they were being “bold” rather than saying they were behaving badly. Bold? Really? You’re being a brat kiddo, knock it off or there will be a price. Bold. Ugh. In the meantime, the kid was still a brat and his mommy was doing absolutely nothing to stop it.

But, when OP is screaming because all she wants to do is paint the house with her poop while balancing on the top of the chair eating her 7th cookie and juggling knives** and why won’t you just LET HER DO IT, and you’re tired, stressed, and really really need to go to the bathroom? Sometimes you cave in, which is bad because consistency is key, but sometimes you just don’t have the wherewithal to deal with it.

I thought it would be easier to say no because it’s how you show your child how much you love them. “No, you can’t play with the chain saw” = I love you. “No, you have to eat a vegetable.” = I love you. “No, you can’t dance naked outside in the snow because you will freeze to death.” = I love you. But then she cries. It takes every ounce of strength to keep saying no and some days, there is just no strength left. I don’t think I’m as patient as I thought

**More hyperbole y’all.

I like to juggle knives!

I’m one of those moms (again)

OP gets progress reports at day care. One said that she was still learning shape sorting. Excuse me? Not my baby! She sorts like a genius at home. She is a shape sorting master! Adults come to her to learn the ways of the shape sorter! It was all I could do not to walk over to the teacher and argue about how my precious exceeded that skill and that maybe they need to reevaluate. Yeah, I hate those parents and swore I’d never be one, but that’s my inclination. Fortunately, I don’t act on it. I usually go home, talk it out with the Husband first, and then talk to the offending party if it actually is a big deal outside my brain. I really hope this one goes away before she starts school, or I will end up in a special home.

I'm a genius. Don't they see that?

The mushy one

I love the Husband. He makes me happy and I never thought I could be so happy until I met him. Then we had a little girl–a rambunctious, hilarious, witty, and amazing little girl. I have never been so happy. All the stress and knife juggling and tantrums does not compare to that feeling when she gives a spontaneous hug or runs over to me all excited to go home after day care. Every time she demonstrates something that she learned from us, it boggles my mind that she used to be just a random kick in my belly. I never thought I would be so in love with my little girl.

Happy Birthday, OP!