Kids These Days

Erik had himself a birthday on Oscar Sunday. We had a small soiree to celebrate. He's so lucky. One year, his birthday was on Fat Tuesday. In a few years, mine is scheduled to coincide with the end of the world. To mark the occasion and the entrance, we placed some gold and black balloons out front. You know, just to point people in the right direction. A non-verbal cue that the even if you don't see the address, you are indeed at the correct location. While we were still setting up and getting organized, Erik witnessed a group of girls drive up in yellow Mini Cooper. One of the girls hopped out of the car and began untying the balloons.

Erik: Excuse me. What are you doing? Those are our balloons.

Girl: What! I was going to give them to my friend.

Erik: Well, they're ours. It's my birthday.

Then she turned on her heal, threw her hand out and mockingly told her friends It's his birthday. Then she jumped back into the car and drove off.

I couldn't believe the audacity of it all. I might pick up a penny I find on the ground. Or help myself to a please take one. But just walk up and take something that everyone knows isn't lost, free or naturally replenished.

About the time they awarded Best Foreign Language film, I looked outside and the balloons were gone. I'm not sure if it was the same thieves or another group of gangsters, I'd like to think that it was some other hooligans birthday too.

I used to have more toes

Oh, I've gone and done it! I've shot myself in the foot. Me, of judgy motherhood fame. Me, who proclaims she only allows her kids one extra curricular activity a week. Me, who squinted her eyes and looked down her nose at all the other over scheduled kids. Against the wishes of my husband and my better judgement, I've signed my kids up for every conceivable activity in our community – twice over.

I came to this realization yesterday and am in an all out panic about it ever since. Add to this, our *cough* marathon training schedules, work and camping trips I had to secure months in advance. I am so mad, but yet, I have no one else to blame. Right now, my days and nights and weekends are filled up with carpooling the kids from one activity to another. The worst part is that I know that I did this. I'm trying to get it all on the calendar. I'm pulling in favors from friends and neighbors. "Can Hazel walk over to your house after poetry enrichment?" (Gawd, I'm rolling my eyes at myself as I type. Just so you know, the after school enrichment classes are a fundraiser for the school in addition to adding arts to the curriculum that the State of California is slated to slaughter. Which reminds me, I need to go march and protest at the Civic Center tonight after the Girls Scout meeting and the play rehearsal.)

Arrrrggghhhhh!

Don't get me wrong, I like to be busy. Just not double booked for the next 8 weekends and every day in between. Sure, I can take deep breaths. Yes, I know that the world will not end if Lula misses a softball game. (Remind me to tell you about the pitching clinic.)

Right about now, I think it's me that needs to hit upside the head.

Farm Charm

I talked to my Grandma Dee today. Remember, it is ALWAYS something with her. We talked about my cousin who is expecting and her sister, my cousin who is getting married, how she took the Council On Aging van to her Doctor's appointment and she told me for the second time that her church is having their annual dinner on Sunday. It's St. Patrick's and "they always have corned beef and cabbage. And pie! They make the best pie. " We talked briefly about my uncle who got divorced a few years ago after his wife left him for the hired man. I call her Lucille, but I don't think my Grandma gets my joke. Another uncle had some medical tests and a biopsy yesterday. She doesn't know when he'll get the results. The doctor told him to rest after the procedure but a cow was "calfing" (having a baby) and they had to go pull it. She'll never forget, it was last year or the year before that, my uncle was pulling a calf and it's head was out. It's tongue was out too. The tongue is always out, she says.

And then she just blurts out a series of words that were disturbing and forever imprinted in my brain. I'm going to spare you the same fate. Just imagine if Quentin Tarantino and Rob Zombie made a movie that took place on a farm in central Kansas. Yeah.

So while my mind is reeling from the image of the story that now she and I will never forget she closes our conversations with "let's talk of nice things next time. Just happy stuff." She was referring to bringing up the divorce not the cow.

Duggar-esque

Yesterday, I learned (via Facebook) that my cousin is pregnant with her 5th!! child. This news has me all out of sorts. I haven't seen my cousin since she had her first child. I made a trip over to my Aunt's house to see her second child. Then there's the third and fourth that exist because my grandmother says so. Granted, my cousin's mother is one of 17 kids so it is probably in her DNA to have a big family. My mom can't get past the fact that she has that much sex. (I know. At least 5 times, right?) I have this nagging emotion that I can't quite put my finger on. Am I jealous?

After I had Lula, people would start to inquire about a third and I'd answer, "Mamma wants to go to Greece." Well, here I am 8 years later. No more kids and no trip to Greece. Not a day goes by that I don't say to myself - parenting is HARD! There is a challenge at every turn. Yesterdays challenge was more like a roller coaster built by untrained engineers, run by blind operators in the rain that had a malfunction. But it's also so much fun. Does my cousin get to have 3 more times the fun?

Every night since the day Hazel was born when I lay my little head on my pillow, I think what a great day. Because seriously, WHAT A GREAT DAY. But then usually during the middle of the night I'm gripped with fear about how I'm going to pay for college, if my kids get enough: culture, religion, diversity, non-media downtime. What about the fact that they can't go to the middle school we're zoned for - so now we have to move again, what if they have social problems and the biggest kicker -what if they hate me when they grow up? I have to think my cousin isn't gripped with the same fears in the middle of the night. So I guess, that's why I'm jealous.

I'm not laughing

Does your dentist or your child's dentist use nitrous or laughing gas?

Growing up, mine never did. In fact my first run in with nitrous happened in the mid-nineties at a Phish show at SPAC and came in a balloon. My second happened in Labor and Delivery during precipitate labor.

So at Lula's dental appointment...One cavity. Her first. Sad face. No Nano....the desk lady was going over the treatment plan for her one (minor) filling. The plan included going ahead and pre-billing insurance for two fillings just in case and using nitrous which costs $65 and is not covered by insurance in addition to the standard numbing shot.

I'm not barbaric, I feel adequate pain medication is necessary. I might be a bit cheap, but what exactly is the profit margin on this pain relief for EVERY child walking through that door? Our dentists in New York and Dallas did not readily use nitrous for every procedure. Aren't we supposed to discourage drug use in children? Whose pain are we managing here? Part of me wonders if it doesn't make the most basic treatments easier for the dentists. I've poked around a bit on the internet. This is what Wikipedia says about Nitrous:

it is frequently used to relieve pain associated with childbirth, trauma, oral surgery, and heart attacks.

I think it's a bit excessive to break out the gas for a surface cavity. I hate it when I grow suspicious of a care giver. Please tell me what you think.

Putting My Money Where Her Mouth Is

I try all the tricks to get my girls to take good care of their teeth. I buy fruity flavored pastes, have a timer on the sink, pony up for the brushes that vibrate and play music. And last year, in a moment of stupidity, I even promised monetary rewards for a cavity free check up.

Lula is a kind of kid that starts 8 out of 10 sentences with, "Can I have.....?" To her credit her requests are often creative. Just last night she asked for a jackalope and a dragon. (I said yes to both.) This year, Lula got exactly what she requested for Christmas, a remote control boat. But before the propeller had even hit the water, she was coveting her sister's new iPod Nano. With no forethought, the words "Lula if you don't have any cavities the next time you go to the dentist, I'll buy you a Nano" flew out of my mouth.

At the time, I didn't really think it through. I actually thought there was NO WAY I'd be buying a new Nano. But last week when Hazel had zero cavities, I started to panic. Her appointment is at 3pm today. She's smart enough to know that the Apple store is open until 9pm.

Return of the Baby Bottle Top

On the way to gymnastics, Hazel and I found ourselves behind a bus with the infamous nesting doll/baby bottle top ad. "Look, there's that ad." I said. "It still has the baby bottle top." Hazel immediately interjected. I handed her my phone and asked her to take a picture. Actually, I asked her to take lots of pictures. "Get closer," she instructed. "I want to make sure you can see the baby bottle top."



This reminded me of when Hazel was a toddler and I'd have to firmly tell her it was time to try to go to the bathroom. She was the kind of kid that was too busy to go. She's stand there with her legs crossed and her eyes watering holding markers, blocks or some other toy and insist she didn't have to use the bathroom. I'd have to use my serious voice to demand that she at least try. After a succesful attempt, she'd point at the toilet bowl and exclaim, "See! See! It's just WATER."

We had a good laugh as the bus stopped at a light and Hazel was able to get a close up. She continued to insist that the smallest doll is a top to a baby bottle and I continued to retort that it's obviously a prophylactic. I'll concede that the image does look like a bit like a baby bottle top. With the messaging mentioning both birth control and HIV testing even I'm getting confused.