Tippy Toes and Tantrums

How She Sees Herself

I worked on a long, incomplete post yesterday, but I was interrupted a million times by a migraine and a playdate. Instead of going back, I am moving on to something I overheard during Clover's playdate. They were either playing mom and dad or father-daughter, I couldn't quite make it out, probably because Clover kept ordering her friend along with "okay now pretend we are doing this...okay now pretend this." It was mostly set up and little play.

Him: I'm going to give you a cute name to call you, like sweetie.
Her: How about smarty?
Him: I was thinking something like flower.
Her: How about just smart?

Clover is going to have all of her boy friends broken in for later when they become boyfriends. At one point she took her friend into her room to show him a new outfit.

Her: "And! It was on sale! Isn't it sooooo cute?!
Him: (silence)

(Trying to) Make it Work!

The auction at Clover's school has a circus theme this year and the craft group has adopted the theme for our live auction entry.

My first horse went well...

...but the second looked like he belonged to Bob Marley...

...and now looks like a stripe-less zebra. I couldn't get the mane to behave unless I cut it short, but now it is too short.

One elephant to go and I am finished with my part, which is good because I am running out of patience.

Freaky Friday

Clover is in bed, relaxing while listening to Science Friday on NPR. That should be my day! I'm jealous. Speaking of Science Friday, when out to dinner with Kevin's stepsisters in December one said she knew someone who dated Ira Glass several years ago and that he was obsessed with his radio show. I thought she said Ira Flatow, Science Friday host and was totally confused. Does he need to obsess over Science Friday to the point that it is his entire life? Luckily I realized my mistake before saying something stupid.

We've had blue skies for about two minutes the past few days. Earlier in the week I noticed the tiny pink petals scattered all over our front deck and steps, reminding me to look up while the cherry blossoms are in bloom. They don't last long and with a much bigger storm due in tomorrow, the wind will mean the end for the blossoms.

Rocket heard me go out and he immediately followed, in socks, closing the door behind him. He ran in circles on our deck, squealing and yelling "meow!" which is how he beckons the neighbor's cats. Turns out a little boy screaming and jumping while his dog sits nearby is not the best way to attract a cat. Though unsuccessful, it was a nice break to let Rocket burn off some energy. Usually he races around Clover's school, climbing and jumping everything there, so winter break has been hard on him.

This is one week I am glad to see end. I was looking forward to getting some of my work done, but other than the closet, nothing has happened. I did clean up the same toys over and over again, though, until last night we refilled the charity bags with them after no one took my threat seriously. At least this guy has my back.

Two odd labels I noticed this week: "Caliente el horno" in bold for the cooking directions in Spanish. I realize this means heat the oven, but it sounds racy. I kept saying it in different accents until I felt I could pull it off on Sabado Gigante.

The other label was ALLERGY WARNING: CONTAINS SHRIMP which is only funny because it was on a fresh shrimp salad in a clear container. If you needed the warning to see that it contained shrimp, you have bigger issues than a shellfish allergy.

It Only Took a Few Years

My office closet is finally organized! Which is kind of a lie because the other half of the closet with the jackets, vacuum and fabric stash is a disgrace, as my mother would say, but the part with the shelves, the shelves upon which I shoved every random homeless knick knack when we moved in years ago, is finally clean and organized. With labels even! I want to keep the door open and admire it, but Rocket sees that as an open invitation to ransack. It was difficult enough figuring out what to go on the bottom shelves because it had to be Rocket-safe, which doesn't mean things he wouldn't choke on, but instead things he cannot break by shaking and stomping. If he does break the lower shelf stuff, so be it as most of it belongs to Clover anyway.

Sharing the closet with Clover is no joy either. She is messy and she helps herself to my supplies, asking for a piece of "extruction" paper when she is already using it. Part of the clean closet includes a bin of paper she is welcome to use and another bin that she is not. That system has been in place to two weeks or so and is working out rather well. Clover's bigger problem is that she leaves the closet door open and unlocked, which invites the ransacker.

One other housekeeping bit: I made this meal on Sunday and it was amazing. My family hates meatloaf despite my love for it as it was one of the few childhood meals my mom made that I actually liked. I came across the recipe for Italian meatloaf and pesto crushed potatoes and it was so good, everyone had seconds and thirds. The meatloaf is cooked in a loaf pan and at one point Clover asked if I had made two. She was upset when I said no. This comes from a girl who likes so few non-chocolate foods that she even hates being served pizza. If pressed to name her favorite meal, she'd probably recall the time I served a snack of sliced bananas sprinkled with a few mini chocolate chips when I was trying to get her to eat all the bananas before they went bad.  Good times!

Getting Closer

Sometime last year when I was dead tired from dealing with baby Rocket, I told Kevin that my dream was that one morning as I began to drag myself out of bed, he would tell me to stay in bed because surprise! he had the day off work! This morning, I heard Kevin trying to push Clover along in her morning routine and as I finally left the warm of my down comforter, I reminded him that this is winter break - or ski week as people insist on calling it. I asked him if he was sure he did not have President's Day off. No, of course not! He reminded me that his company has some odd holidays, so no! It is a work day, thank you very much! Just as he put on his Dockers, he decided to double check. Sure enough, it's a holiday! By this time, I was up and awake anyway. So much for my holiday. On the plus side, for one week I don't have to drive two towns south to take Clover to and from school! Woot!

(The picture is taken from where I parked at Clover's school last Friday. That is the ga-ga court, which when I first saw it thought it looked pretty crappy, but then I was told it was built by third graders and suddenly looked really well built. Ga-ga was invented by kids at her school years ago - think dodge ball in a small, enclosed space. Even the hippies have an aggressive streak.)

Don't Look Up: They're Spraying Us to Kill the Moths

Pesticides don't know when to stop killing. That was one of about 30 bumper stickers plastered all over our Silicon Valley neighborhood and the back of the car in front of me, making it easy for me to roll my eyes in response, even though I agreed with the message. Still, I thought about the line a lot afterward, especially when assessing how many ants I would have to struggle with before I let my husband spray around the perimeter of our house. Every year it is the same dance: I try every nontoxic method to keep the ants out of our house, but at some point, the ants take over anyway and I give my husband the okay.

I feel guilty about it, but at the same time, I know we are trying to be responsible by limiting use and exposure, especially our children's exposure. That is why I was in disbelief a few weeks ago when I heard on KQED that the state was going to begin aerial spraying to eradicate the light brown apple moth. Actually, I kind of freaked out. Despite weak official insistences that it is safe, it seems like a giant step backwards, making us all a test case, particularly children, who along with the elderly, are considered a sensitive population with potential unknown impacts. Why bother paying extra for organic when the state is going to spray my kids directly?

Once upon a time before children, I was a reporter covering environmental issues, which may be why I'm cynical about the government's human health protections. I could go into boring minutia, but one big thing I took away from the work was that I would have to shield my children from harmful exposures and not expect the government to protect them. Despite some effort by the state to tailor some rules to children's needs, chemical exposure limits are based on the health effects on average size men, not small children, who breathe in more air per pound than adults, making exposures for them potentially more acute.

The light brown apple moth case is even more troubling because the state cannot conclusively say that human exposure is safe. Short term it could be asthma attacks or headaches, but what about long term impacts on children? Proponents say to relax because the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency doesn't have maximum limits on the Checkmate - the pesticide that would be used - in food which I find laughable because while there are tons of great people working for the EPA, it has budgetary restraints and a political leadership. Because EPA hasn't set limits doesn't mean they aren't needed.

It's true the light brown apple moths are extremely destructive and pose a significant threat to the state's agriculture industry, but spraying a nebulous pesticide above the Bay Area and south to Monterey is even more threatening.  We are putting an industry above human health. This is a proactive move by the government because the infestation is not yet widespread, but shouldn't it be more important to take a proactive position on human health? It's one thing to spray a chemical over crops, it is another to spray over our homes and yards. According to news reports, spraying occurred in Santa Cruz last summer in the evening when people were out walking. I have visions of my kids enjoying a summer evening on the swings in our backyard while the airplanes spray overhead. That isn't likely to come true because my town is not listed in the initial group proposed for spraying, even though officials say the list of towns is bound to change as more information comes in during the five year spraying program. However, with as little as a soft breeze, sprayed pesticides travel.

Maybe aerial spraying of Checkmate is the safest, most prudent way to stop this moth, but expediting the spraying with emergency exemptions doesn't lend itself to real public involvement. We can't openly vet out the alternatives when our government only allows us to be superficially involved in the first place. In the meantime, this mom is going to be wary of low flying planes.

What the Kids are Into

Clover's school had a huge paper heart on the front porch for "gratitude graffiti" on Valentine's Day, allowing any kid who wanted, a chance to write a note to their teacher. There were cute notes of thanks, but then there was this one huge note:

Is that how the kids spell school nowadays? After noticing "techers," I really hope this was written by a second grader.

Clover and her classmates - like millions of students before them - made little mail bag Valentine receptacles and they decorated them with magazine cutouts. This bag belongs to a male classmate:

I love the added touch of the rototiller, just to drive the male thing home. Clover's featured a cut out saying "AUGUST IS HEAVY METAL MONTH." She loves her Judas Priest.

Homemade...With Love?

We started in January with excitement and energy, but the toll of making 27 (kindergarten classmates and all the teachers from music to math) homemade Valentine's Day cards soon wore us down and by the end, well, I am just glad to say we finished. I always believed homemade cards were made with love and attention, but ours came together in slap-dash chaos.

I expected the cards had to be homemade. It wasn't a requirement by any means, but my daughter goes to what we lovingly call the hippie school, which means homemade cards are expected. Her teacher recommended in mid-January that the kids get started on their cards and this confirmed my homemade suspicion because I didn't think she was advising us to get to Target while the card selection was still good.

By this time, my daughter and I settled on two designs, one for boys and the other for girls and I had started gathering supplies. Soon the cutting began and then my daughter Clover started writing the messages. She started strong, but after a few, she tired out. We had plenty of time I reassured her, she could take a few days off. From that time on, working on them involved a lot of persistence on my part, some begging and some bribing. She would do one here and there, but always under duress. I fantasized about giving up and buying them at the store. Finally, Clover finished writing a few days before Valentine's and we both regained interest in the project as we moved to the gluing stage. That enthusiasm was quickly squashed.

Gluing pipe cleaners to card stock is torture and for awhile I thought it was impossible. How did I not know this before? I thought that with my Mighty Tacky glue, it was going to be quick work (after all, the bottle has a picture of a glue muscle man), but I found that I needed to hold the pipe cleaners down for a few minutes while the glue set. It gave me time to ponder once again, was this really worth it? Clover handled curling the pipe cleaners while I glued and pressed. My hands became mighty tacky, but the pipe cleaners eventually bonded with the paper, although they went from being soft and fuzzy to stiff and prickly. Hopefully no one will look at the backs.

Suddenly, we reached the finish line. We were surrounded by mounds of cut up paper and glue, but together we had made cards for everyone and all without staying up the night before or any yelling or crying, which was probably the biggest accomplishment. Clover is proud of the cards and cannot wait to hand them out, which makes it worth the effort. When Clover brings home the cards she's received, I'll look at them differently. Sure, they'll be cute, but I'll wonder about back story and I won't judge the parents who sent in store bought cards.

Aliens and Butterflies

Okay, glue and pipe cleaners don't really go together. That is information that needs to get out there because before this week, I certainly did not know. It took a lot of glue and minutes of pressing to get the pipe cleaners to stay put. Eventually it worked, but it was hardly the dab of glue, quick press, move on process that I had expected. (More on our card making at the Silicon Valley Moms Blog.)

It was worth it, though, because Clover was so proud and the boys in her class were all running around with their aliens. I think we rocked the homemade Valentine's too, which surprised me. Not that it was a competition...I thought others would be better than ours.

This has been a great day for Rocket. I took him to See's Candy with me to buy a custom box for Kevin. I don't know if it was his size or his big blue eyes, but he walked out of there with six chocolate samples. He was dripping in chocolate because he would shove the whole thing in his mouth and then pull it out. He tried to feed me a chocolate buttercream with a big, melted chocolate slobber handful, but I kept my lips locked. He managed to make yummy chocolate disgusting and that is hard to do.

A Dreamy Day for All

Back in January when I told Kevin about an email from the Silicon Valley Moms Blog, I said "Disney is going to" and he cut me off and practically shouted "SEND US TO DISNEYLAND!" His face exploded with excitement. It was the equivalent of someone telling me I was going to be in Oprah's audience for the Favorite Things show. He was still happy when I told him it was going to be a party, mostly because I think he had a secret hope that we would arrive and they would somehow teleport us to Disneyland. I reminded him that it was only a two hour party.

We took Clover to Disneyland when she was three and while Kevin had been there once before when he was about six, maybe seven, he had no memory of it. Kevin is usually reserved and quiet, but Disneyland broke through that and he said it was the happiest he has ever been in his life. Forget our wedding day or the birth of Clover (which was under harried, emergency circumstances, so I understand it may not be remembered as a fun day, but still overall happy, right?), Kevin was happiest at Disneyland with a small child in tow who insisted that I share her bed, but that she got all of the chocolates left on my pillow (and her pillow and the pillows belonging to Kevin, my mom, my dad and my sister. Basically, Clover took them all every night without asking) and she refused to nap. Plus Clover had a fondness for throwing the drapes open to greet the passing monorails ignoring the fact that I was in my underwear and bra, trying to get dressed. Good times!

An hour before the party yesterday, I forgot that I had not prepared Rocket for the size of the characters, just in case they were there. I brought out a little Mickey figurine that I'd bought at the park during a high school trip and showed him. "Mouse. Biiiiig mouse," holding my arms over my head. (I sounded like Long Duk Dong from Sixteen Candles. "Lake. Big lake.") Rocket laughed and walked away. I took out a picture of Clover with Mickey from our trip and showed him Mickey's size. He took the card and threw it down. Such bravado.

The party was amazing, despite the fact that I had a throbbing migraine and felt like vomiting most of the time, which says something about the power of Disney. There was face painting, castle cookie decorating, Mr. Potato Head building (we came home with two potato bodies and three boxes full of parts) and of course the characters. Clover dressed as Princess Aurora after debating all day between that costume and Belle. When she met Cinderella, Cinderella said "Oh, Princess Aurora is going to be sad that she missed you." The party could have ended there and Clover would have floated home. Cinderella told Clover that now that Clover is five, she is old enough to go to the ball. She also told her that she is a real princess tonight. When Clover ran to tell Kevin, it was one of those brief moments where you get to see your child so ridiculously happy. There used to be a billboard south of San Francisco that showed little girls dressed in their princess costumes at Disneyland that said something like "Take them while they still believe." Bash Disney all you want about their omnipresence, but those moments of happiness and excitement over a fairytale come true are precious.

Next we took a family photo with Minnie and Mickey. Rocket did not cry, but he didn't want to stay for the picture either. Kevin held him, but Rocket reached out to me repeating "mommy" until I took my spot next to Mickey and then a look of "crap, now what?" spread across Rocket's face, but at least he didn't cry. Later Buzz Lightshow (as Clover called him) came out too and Clover added his autograph to her book.

After we pried Clover out of there to go home, she kept talking about how she had "a lovely time," and that it was a "magical night," and "so special." She took the princess for a night thing to heart. Surprisingly, she did not ask when we were going to go to Disneyland again. That question came from her father, who also asked me twice if I took pictures of the long table with all the Mr. Potato Head parts. When we got home, Rocket found the old picture of Clover with Mickey and he brought it to me, pointed at Mickey and said something that sounded like "big!" He figured it out on his own.

It wasn't included as a giveaway, but I took a clean disposable food bowl/plate thing because I thought they were so cute.

I brought home a cookie kit for Rocket, but I ate it and the frosting last night after he went to bed. I'm not proud of myself.