Tippy Toes and Tantrums

Cause I Don't Shine if You Don't Shine

The new lens works in low light!



With modest intentions, I set out to buy a skein of yarn. Kevin and I tore parts of the house apart on Christmas Eve searching for my skein of baby blue yarn, when, oh yeeeaaahhh, I realized that I'd never purchased the yarn because the store was out of stock. I returned today to find the yarn in stock and on sale and while there, I decided to buy some of the wildly marked down fabric to help further my goal of cloth napkining the world. I asked for a yarn and a half of a blue twill and the cutting guy rolled out the bolt finding exactly a yard and a half left. I handed a Christmas Jacquard over and asked for two yards. Sure enough, only two yards were left. The guy looked up and asked "How are you doing that?!"

After dropping my purchases in the car, I grabbed a book and walked to Starbucks where I ordered a drink and found the cozy, oversized chairs free. I sat there for an hour, unable to remember the last time I did that, even for a few minutes. Before Clover was born? But then I wouldn't have needed to escape the house.

Whole Foods had internally advertised a Crab Fest! this Friday, so I stopped by, preparing to be disappointed, but was surprised to find dungeness crab for $3.99 a pound, cracked and cleaned. I grabbed a baguette too, avoiding the ones being smelled by a woman trying to find the right brand, I presume. She had her 11 year old son handing her baguettes that she would put to her nose and inhale deeply, then say "No, not this one." I didn't ask.

The cherry on top of my outing came when I got back in the car and found that all of my radio station presets were playing songs I really liked and it continued the entire way home. I returned to a clean house and kids on their way out to see a Lego exhibit with their dad.

Today is like Christmas all over again. I should go buy a lottery ticket.

Cookie Monster's Coming to Town

The line for the French bakery booth was long at the Farmer's Market. Normally the focus is on the pastries, but for Christmas, the bread was the sought-after item.

We made cookies for Santa in the afternoon, hoping that would be the tipping point in a week-long debate with Rocket. He was shocked to learn that we leave out cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve. He thought this was the worst idea ever. The other day during carpool when one of the boys suggested that Santa must have some sort of magic sleeping dust or spell that makes the kids all fall asleep if Santa happens to arrive at a house where a child may still be awake. Clover immediately said the idea made perfect sense, while at the same time, Rocket was appauled that Santa may be walking freely around our house. "No Santa come in MY ROOM! Santa don't PLAY with MY TOYS! NO! NO, SANTA, don't TOUCH my toys!" Rocket wants Santa to leave toys - he is fully supportive of that idea - but he doesn't want to offer Santa anything in return. Typical two year old.

Before dinner, we drove around to see the lights and we even found some surprise snow. The kids quickly learned that it isn't so easy to walk on hardened snow with Crocs.

Tonight Clover put out a plate of cookies for Santa, but Rocket cried and refused to do the same. After watching the kids decorate the cookies this afternoon, with all of the finger-licking and spinkle-tasting, I decided that Santa may not want to eat those cookies anyway.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

While the Mice are Away

For the first time in forever, I was alone today. Not even the dog was home, as we managed to get her in for a last minute grooming. When I picked her up, she was sitting in the middle of the room surrounded by chaos, with all breeds of dogs running all around her. If it had been a movie, it would be the scene in a crowded train station where the two lovers lock eyes, oblivious to the world around them. Instead it was me, the reluctant dog owner pointing and saying "I'm here for that one, Maddie the pug," while Maddie looked at me with big eyes soon blocked by the dripping wet giant horse dog who jumped up on the gate to greet me.

A few hours later, when Clover and Rocket returned from a night at my parents' house, Rocket leaped into my arms and said "Mama!" while Clover handed me a picture she drew for me and of me with "To Kim" at the top. "Why Kim?" I asked, to which she shrugged.

I hate to say it was nice to not have the kids around because I feel like I am tempting fate and something bad will happen, but it was so nice to have a break and to get to run a million errands without lifting an increasingly heavy kid in and out of a car seat or cajoling the older one to go along and not whine or ask for anything.  I was able to listen to NPR without missing every few words due to interruptions. I made it to six places today, about five more than I would have done with kids, crossing off tasks quickly. When Kevin got home, he joked about how excited I was to clean Clover's cleats, but seriously, her muddy cleats have been sitting outside of our front door for over a month because I haven't had a chance to scrape the mud and grass off of them. The smallest tasks gave me the greatest sense of accomplishment.

My iPod blasted in my ears as I cleaned the house, but I really need to create a proper playlist because alphabetical order was not working for me at all. I went from Want You Bad by Offspring to You're the One that I Want from Grease, and while the titles makes them sound similar - and in theme, I guess they are - the nature is radically different. That kind of thing happened a lot, even on randmonizer, killing my cleaning momentum.

Yesterday I filled the bird feeder for solstice, even putting out nuts for the squirrels, which turned into a babysitting job of sorts because quickly our neighbor's cat staked out a spot on a tree branch, starring at the feeder while in pounce position. At first I would go shoo her away, but soon I was wishing for a super soaker. Must all good deeds be punished?

Also, for those seeking the perfect last minute gift, I saw a great license plate frame yesterday: Sexy Daddy on Board. I saw the driver; clearly it was a gag gift.

Product Review: Parents Camera

Rocket certainly is sick of hearing me say "It is not a toy" anytime he gets within a foot of my camera. I was a little leery when I opened the package revealing the Parents Look-at-Me Camera because the kid is no dope, he would see that there was no screen on the back of the camera, revealing each picture, possibly rendering this a baby toy unworthy of his time. Sure enough, he took to the camera immediately, but after 15 seconds, disgustedly said, "This camera don't work!" What surprised me is that he got over the fact that it wasn't a real camera and began to play with it as a toy anyway. He loved the clicking noise, the pretend play and that he could adjust the lens to his heart's desire, which he has always wanted to do with my camera.

The camera went with us in the car, where he'd mentally frame his pictures. "Two cars." "Blue car." "Walking dog." He set up what Clover dubbed a studio in the house and began carefully photographing all of our throw pillows.

The camera lived up to our expectations based on past Parents toys that have always held the kids' attention overtime. Both kids will still pick up the Parents cell phones and pretend to make calls. They'd still like to use the microphones, but mercifully the batteries died. The camera does have a music option, which Rocket insists on using each time he plays with the camera. It also says things like "fab-uuu-lous!" which I really hope Rocket doesn't pick up and the cheesy music has gotten stuck in my head. Other than that, the camera is pretty...fab-uuu-lous.

Claymation

Clover's been working on a model in clay class for a few weeks - coming up with an idea, devising how to make it, construction, painting and glazing and waiting while it was fired. I've heard about every step of the way and finally it came home yesterday all wrapped up. She wanted me to open it immediately, so I did, and this is what I found:

If you guessed poop, you wouldn't be far off. She made a clay bathroom. I said the first positive thing that came to mind: "It has a nice caramel color!" Most kids make pinch pots, Clover went with a mini chamber pot.

In the Spirit of Christmas

Hot hot chocolate, followed by a cold water chaser.

Back 100 years ago when I was a Blue Bird, before blossoming into a Camp Fire Girl, we had to spend a few weeks at a local retirement home playing bingo with the old ladies. I remember it being awkward and stale smelling, but hey, they gave out full sized candy bars when you won bingo! This was the childhood equivalent of winning a small lottery jackpot. None of our other badge-earning projects involved Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, so these outings clearly had merit. And I knew we were Doing Something Good, as all of our mothers kept reminding us.

We, along with some of the other families from Clover's class, went caroling at a local retirement home last night and while I went into it believing we were Doing Something Good, I left wondering if the old people were just tolerating us because they had to. A few people seemed to enjoy it, one lady watched us with what appeared to be great joy, but I know from trying to speak to her before that she wasn't fully...in the moment? So it was unclear what she was thinking, but at least she had a happy look on her face. A few of the men watched the kids in the way that many old men do, almost like they want to yell at them to get off their lawn, but they no longer have a lawn. I saw one sigh and wag his head a few times at a few kids running around, but afterward Kevin said he thought the men enjoyed watching the kids play, so one of us misinterpreted them. Many of the people watched expressionless, making me wonder if they'd rather be watching TV.

I left glad that we participated, hoping that the kids absorbed something from the experience, something having to do with spreading joy, going out of your way for others or even charity, but then when we got to the car, Clover threw out a suggestion for improvement that I did not see coming. "Wouldn't it have been better if they gave us gifts?" WHAT? She reworded it in an effort to get me to agree, "I'm just saying that it would have been more fun if we had gotten presents."

Clover's going to a food bank with her class this week. I wonder what she'll have to say after that visit. "Shouldn't they have offered us lunch or something? I'm just saying it would have been better if they gave us cookies."

Drunk on Tempura Paint

I reached another milestone of parenting today. Both of the kids had class holiday parties - at the same time. I'm sure this is just the start of conflicting activities, so I tried to take it in stride. We made it to both parties - leaving one early and arriving late to the other. Clover stayed behind at her class party to finish the school day, where without direct parent supervision, she ate six desserts. That must be the children's equivalent of a bender. She was a little spastic after she got home, prompting Rocket to point at her and calmly say, "Time out." Exactly, kid.

Unforeseen Economic Causality: My Mood

Unable to sleep one night recently, I was trying to figure out what felt so different about this holiday season. Sure, as the kids get older, things get more complicated - there are more events, more things to do, more demands - but that wasn't it. Finally I realized what was different: it's the economy, stupid! Trying to buy gifts on a shrinking budget, but get something that suits the person, while balancing that with a desire to buy handmade gifts, has put a damper on my mood. Especially because our failing economy, with a roller coaster stock market and a growing number of layoffs, hangs over this season like a dark cloud. It's hard to be happy and optimistic while getting pelted with hail.

The thought of "what if" is pervasive. What if layoffs hit our family right after a big Christmas? This has led me to scale things back, which is fine, but it's added a lot of stress. I'm more worried about what to serve for Christmas dinner than I have been in the past. The big dinner with fancy desserts and champagne cocktails is out, scaled back to something simpler and hopefully more fun. But it's Christmas, therefore alternatives need to be found because it still has to be nice or else this dinner would look about the same as our Superbowl party with nachos and chili galore. Walking the line between saving money and making it work has given me a case of the blahs.

Our budget has been cut from past years, but that is a good thing. Last Christmas Eve, my husband and I stood in our family room after the kids went to bed, looking at all the gifts we'd gotten for the next morning when it was horribly obvious that we had overbought. We packed up a box of excess gifts that we've since pulled from throughout the year whenever a gift was needed. With numbers in mind this year, we have precisely the right amount of gifts.

Buying fewer gifts for the kids was the easy part. It's dealing with others that gets tricky. Our gifts are smaller this year and I wish I was brave enough to get out of gift exchanges that we somehow got roped into, the kind where someone gave a gift to the kids, I gave one back and the next thing I knew, I was obligated to continue year after year. I tried to politely break one of those exchanges last year, only to crush the friendship instead as the person was offended that I wanted to end something that, unlike me, they did not see as a huge burden. It's the kind of giving that does not feel good, but after my last experience, I'd rather trudge along than end the relationship.

There is something uplifting about extravagance, which is why the term retail therapy has come into existence, I presume. So there must be a term for forced limits when one peruses the aisles at Target. When I shop now, I am much more aware of the difference between what I need and what I want. It's definitely been smarter to cut back on the wants, not only from a financial standpoint, because I don't need the extra clutter - metaphysical or real - in my life, but there is something so joyful about getting something you want merely because it brings you happiness. Living within a scaled down budget in preparation for the possible hail storm has dampened my mood. Maybe if I felt optimistic about things, it would be easier, but right now I feel like the world is headed for a dark period and only a quick spree on Etsy would boost my spirits. Unfortunately I don't really need that new headband.

A Deodorant Soap Scented Holiday

I'm in a funk. I don't know why, but I want something fun and exciting for me, not for the people for whom I work. Little Lord Fauntleroy must have been slightly under the weather for a day or two because he hardly ate, yet now he is making up for it by eating meal after snack after snack after snack after meal after snack after double snack after snack...my whole day has been serving up food orders for a boy who flipped out today when I said no, we would not be having an ice cream cone. Message to marketers: Rocket is buying whatever you're selling. If a character on TV eats, say an ice cream cone, he MUST have that same thing. So much of my day is at the mercy of the Sesame Street writers.

I stood firm tonight while making dinner. He ate all of the pretzels in his peanut butter and pretzel snack and was demanding more pretzels at the same time Clover was telling me a story as I had my head in the oven...literally, I had forgotten to sprinkle cheese on a dish and rather than take it out, I foolishly thought this method would be easier. "DOES IT LOOK LIKE I AM BUSY?" I bellowed from inside the oven. A minute later Clover laughed and said Rocket was "such a peanut butter monkey." I asked why and she said "Because he's covering himself in peanut butter." Sure enough, the kid had somehow stretched two tablespoons of peanut butter to cover his face, hair and arms. Our dog thought this was the best decision ever, as she followed Rocket around while salivating. Three tiny stick pretzels could have prevented this mess. Lesson learned for both of us as Rocket wasn't too happy when I looked the other way as the dog pinned him against a cabinet and licked his face.

While shopping for others online last night, I decided to throw a holiday scent Philosophy body wash into the order for myself. I picked out exactly the scent I wanted, certain it was the thing - the only thing - that would improve my mood. Only when I tried to put it in my cart, was I informed that it was temporarily out of stock. Now I'm left to solider on not smelling like an orange cranberry.

In a Yellow Submarine

The Annual Clover-Mommy Day wiped me out. The main activity scheduled was to see The Velveteen Rabbit, which we did, but somehow the real activity was exploring street art.

The most magical moment of the day was completely spontaneous, when the lunch crowd cleared out of the restaurant making the background music suddenly much louder. As we finished up, sitting in the warm sun, Yellow Submarine began to play and Clover, unabashedly and enthusiastically sang along with a huge grin on her face. "We all live in a yellow submarine, yellow submarine..." I joined in, because as fellow Elf fans know, the best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear. Okay, so it may not have been Christmas-y, but it was cheerful.