Winter Vacation, Days 2-5

Sorry I'm so late in posting this.  My migraines have come back with a vengeance and I haven't been able to be on the computer too much because the light from the screen hurts my head.

Anyway, onto Day 2 of vacation.  We all woke up late, so we couldn't go to the zoo.  Instead, I took T and Princess to go see Journey 2: The Mysterious Island.  It was the first time either of them have gone to the movies.  We got there early, got popcorn, and sat down.  Before the movie started, T wanted to leave.  He threw a little bit of a tantrum, but managed to do it quietly and we got to stay and see the movie.  I got some nasty scratches from him that are currently infected, but it could have been worse.

They both thought the movie was so cool.  I really liked it too-mostly because The Rock was in it and he's awesome.  The special effects were pretty great too. T has been begging me since then to go see the Lorax, so I'm going to take him this weekend.

After the movie, I took them to Johnny Rockets, since I haven't had their chili cheese fries since I was in college.  T got really antsy, insisted on sitting under the table on the floor, and decided it was his job to help the waitress by giving everyone ketchup.  Princess burnt her mouth on her first bite of french fry and refused to eat anymore.  We ended wboxing up the food and leaving.

Day 3 of vacation took us to the Museum of Natural History to see the dinosaurs.  Unfortunately, the parking garage was full at the museum, so we had to park 6 blocks away.  It was a little nerve wracking for me to have my preschoolers walking that far in the city.  They've never been in the city before, and there's all the traffic, and they're not used to it.  But it was fine and it turned out just to be mommy worry.

It was beautiful outside, and crazy hot in the museum.  The heat was blasting and I was dying after 5 minutes.  We ended up checking our coats, and T was afraid they were taking his jacket forever.  He had a little meltdown, but the coat check woman finally managed to assure him he would get it back later.  The kids wanted to take the elevator, even though we didn't have Goober or a stroller with us.  There was a line, but finally we got on it.  There were 3 nannies with their charges, and a woman from Florida with her kids.  The elevator guy thought I was a nanny too.  I took it as a compliment that I look young and not nearly as washed out as I feel.

We were only in the dinosaur wing for 10 or 15 minutes before the kids decided they were starving and had to eat immediately.  Back down we went, to the food court.  After we ate, we went to the gift shop.  T picked out a set of space shuttles, and Princess got a pink dolphin stuffed animal. 

They weren't too keen on a lot of the museum.  They weren't interested in the hall with the giant whale, or the Asian wing.  I finally got them to go look at the African animal dioramas, which they did like.  T threw a few fits, but it was mostly okay.  The heat got to me, though.  I had to sit down every time we went up or down a flight of stairs because I would start sweating and getting dizzy.  We went back to look at the dinosaurs again, and after they saw the T-Rex, they were ready to go home.

I promised them that if they behaved on the way back to the car, we would get cupcakes (there was a Crumbs half a block from where we parked).  It was a slow walk back.  They were so tired.  The cupcakes were amazing, though.

Then I got lost in New Jersey.  I had to take the lower level of the bridge and I always take the upper level.  I ended up having to go on the Turnpike South, which I am not familiar with.  I got off at the Meadowlands to turn around, and followed the signs for the Garden State Parkway, which I know like the back of my hand.  Then the signs for it stopped.  I had to choose highways and had no idea if I was going in the right direction, because I didn't recognize any of the town names.  I called my parents, who were golfing in Myrtle Beach, and my dad somehow figured out where I was, so I got back on track.  My trip home, which should have taken 30-45 minutes took close to 2 hours.

That's when the migraine started.  I've had migraines for years, but they've cooled off since Goober was born.  I'm allergic to Imitrex and the other migraine medications, and I've tried a bunch of preventatives that didn't work either.  So I'm basically SOL unless a doctor gives me narcotic pain relievers.  I was up all night, miserable.  I almost went to the ER a few times, but I really didn't have anyone to take care of all the kids if I went.  So I stayed in bed, pillow on my head, and tried to keep my kids quiet.  Yes, it involved lots of junk food, but the tradeoff was necessary.

On day 5 of vacation, I didn't feel great, but I promised the kids we would go to the zoo.  Except there was snow on the ground and it was raining when we woke up.  So went went to the aquarium on Coney Island.  I was under the assumption it was indoors, but I was wrong.  It was mostly outdoor.  And it wasn't as cool as I thought it would be.  T and Princess had fun.  Goober didn't really like it.  We saw the entire thing in an hour and a half.  I felt a little gypped, since it took about that long to get there, and I assumed it would be an all day thing.  The kids were happy once they got toys, though.  Princess got another pink dolphin stuffed animal, although this one came in a purse.  T got a 3D dolphin puzzle and sticky frogs.  Goober got a tiny little shark stuffed animal.

Instead of going home, since the boyfriend wasn't feeling well, we went back to my parents.  They were on their way home from Myrtle Beach, but we left before they got there.  The kids love being there to play.  It's roomier than our house, so they have more room to play.  We stayed there until dinner time, when T got really cranky and wanted to leave.

On Saturday (Day 6 of vacation), I took T and Goober over to my parent's house, and stayed there most of the day.  The boyfriend was still under the weather, and Princess slept all day.  Sunday we stayed in.

T was so happy to go back to school on Monday.  He really loves his teacher and his class.  I got a letter that his meeting to get re-evaluated will be on April 20.  I hope they'll let him stay in the school next year.  He's doing really well there, and I can't afford for him to go to preschool at all if the district won't pay for it.  We're also going to get Princess evaluated and try to get her into the school because she's been copying his speech and now she doesn't pronounce a lot of words right.

All in all, vacation was good.  Now T wants to go to Disney World, or as he calls it, Mickey Land.  He'll have to wait for his grandparents to do that one, but I hope we do get to go one day.

The Year is Not Going as I Planned

I've been so lazy about blogging since the holidays.  I can't seem to get inspired enough to write, and being sick for an entire week totally threw me off. 

I've still only gone to the gym once, and now my parents reneged on watching 2 of my kids to give me a chance to go because my sister decided to go back to school.  She's starting a nursing program this week, so they have to watch her son while she's at school.  I don't know why she decided to go to community college where I live, because she lives an hour and a half away.  It just kind of puts a damper on things for me, because sometimes I need the help, and now they have to watch my nephew every day.  T is going to be pretty bummed out too, because now he can't go there after school for a few hours every day like he's used to.

Speaking of T, he's turning 4 on Monday, and Princess is turning 3 on Wednesday.  I can't believe how fast they're growing up.  It feels like they were little just yesterday, but I honestly can't remember either of them being babies, which is weird.  I can remember Goober as a baby, but maybe that's because he's the youngest.  Thinking about this makes me want another baby, even though I know that is crazy and not possible at the moment.

The boyfriend needs to get a real job, as the internet thing he was working on doesn't seem to be panning out.  He was doing well until he decided to have other people help, and everything went to crap.  He doesn't seem to care that I'm maxing out all my credit cards just to pay for food, and I'm going to have to borrow money again just to pay our share of the rent this month.  I'm really getting sick of him not caring enough to get a job.  He knows that if worse came to worse, our families would bail us out so we had food and a place to live, so he's in no rush to get a job. 

Since the stupid Star Wars computer game came out a few weeks ago, that's all he's been doing in his waking hours.  He wears headphones and plays the damn game.  He can't even hear if the kids are screaming 2 feet away from him.  I have to tap him on the shoulder and yell if I need his help for anything, and that pisses him off because then he gets killed in his game.  I tried to talk to him about it, but he doesn't seem to get it or care, and it's not fair.  If he's home and not working, why the hell can't he help a little with the kids, or take out the trash, or clean up his dirty dishes?  I wish I knew a way to knock some sense into him.

On a better note, I decided to start a makeup blog as well.  You can find it here.  I only have a couple posts up now, but I'm planning to swatch a bunch of makeup if I can find a working camera, and post looks of the day.

I hope this coming week will go well.  I'm bringing cookie cake to school for T's birthday on Monday, so I hope the kids in his class have fun.  I'm also having a party for T and Princess next Saturday.  I invited his whole class, and even though the RSVP date was yesterday, I've only heard from 7 out of 17 kids.  I hope some more parents call me tomorrow, since we kind of spent a lot of money for the party (we're having a musician who does an interactive show with the kids-my kids saw him when we were pumpkin picking and loved him).

Wordless Wedneday- Sibling Love

Sorry I've Been Sucking Lately

I know I haven't been blogging much the past couple weeks and I'm sorry.  I've been focused on getting ready for the holidays and my kids' schedules have been totally off.

My kids have been staying up even later than normal, and I'm not in the mood to blog at 3 am.  The baby's teething again and is barely sleeping at night and not napping much at all.  And now my oldest, is sick again and has no voice.  I swear, since he started school, someone in my family is always sick.  I don't remember getting sick like this when I went to school.

I also started taking medication that makes me feel really hung over and groggy every morning when I don't get 7 or 8 hours of sleep (which pretty much never happens) so I've been staying in bed until 10 or 11 every morning.  I wasn't kidding when I told you my kids' sleep is really off-I'm lucky my son has afternoon preschool or no one in the house would even been awake when it started.

Happy Holidays to everyone, and I'll try to be better about blogging most days.

The Morning Battle

"Three, two, one," I stare at him, eyes narrowing.  "This is your last chance."

He spits in my face.

"That's it, I'm getting your father."

"Noooooooooooooooo!" he wails, in the earsplitting tone only small children can muster.

"Then get dressed, right now.  We're going to be late for school."

He crosses his arms and turns away from me.  "I go bye-bye with Gamma."

"You can go out with Grandma after school."

"No school!" He lays on the couch and covers himself with a blanket.  I attempt to put his clothes on,
getting a swift kick to the chest for my efforts.

I hear the thud of footsteps on the stairs and say a silent thank you.  "He won't get dressed again."

"Listen to Mommy!" his dad tells him.

"No thank you." I try to get his pants on again, and again he spits at me.

"I'm done," I say, trying to keep my temper in check as I walk to the kitchen to get his snack ready.

The booming voice of his dad reaches the kitchen.  "Get dressed right now and say sorry to Mommy or you're getting a spanking!"

"No, no, no!" he screams before dissolving into tears.  I know the tears mean he's finally getting dressed.  Another morning battle has just barely been won.

This post was written for this week's red writing hood prompt from Write on Edge.  The prompt was to write a post starting with "Three, two, one" and keep it under 300 words.

More Sick Kids and Skyrim

Sorry I've been absent most of this week.  There are a few things that have been going on.  Now T, my oldest, is sick.  He's had a cough for a while, but it's gotten way worse since Wednesday.  I sent him to school anyway on Thursday, and he was so much worse for the wear when I picked him up.

And another kid in his class was sick all week.  He had a cough and stuffy nose to the point where he was drooling all over himself.  The teacher was talking to the nanny about it as the poor kid stood there, looking like a Neopolitan Mastiff (aka Hagrid's dog in Harry Potter and my dream dog).  Seriously, though, that kid was too sick to be in school.  What the hell were his nanny and mother thinking?

T ended up with a high fever on Thursday evening, and he's been miserable ever since.  He's been hacking nonstop (to the point where his Grandmother couldn't sleep and had to miss working at the market on Friday).  He keeps getting a nosebleed because his coughing is so bad, and it is freaking him out (I would freak out too if I woke up covered in blood). 

And his doctor is on vacation, so I've been trying to treat it at home, hoping it is viral and will get better.  Children's ibuprofen, Robitussin, and a humidifier have become his friends (although I wanted to kill my MIL for putting Vick's Vapor Rub in the humidifier-that stuff is just awful and stunk up the entire house).

And if you're a gaming freak like me, you probably know that Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim came out the other day.  I have been waiting for this for what seems like forever (or maybe since I finished Oblivion).  Needless to say, I am super excited to play this game.  If things went my way, I would have played it for the last 48 hours.  In reality, I've only played it for 2 or 3, and those hours were interrupted by my kids.

The boyfriend has been playing it since it came out.  And it looks beyond awesome.  But I know if I ask him to watch the kids while I play, it won't happen.  They will run wild while he doesn't pay attention because he is playing the game with his headphones on, dead to the world.

So here's to hoping my kids feel better and sleep a lot.  Because I think I really deserve some uninterrupted gaming time.

Acting Out in School

It has come to my attention that my son is kind of acting out at preschool.  By acting out, I mean he pees all over himself.  Pretty much every single day.

Now, by no means is T potty trained.  He uses Pull-Ups.  We have gotten him to pee in the toilet exactly one time, and that was earlier this week.  And he only agreed because we let him stand on the seat to do it-but hey, anything is a start.

T gets up in the morning, eats breakfast, watches some TV, and at noon, we get dressed for school.  This includes putting on a new Pull-Up, even if he is totally dry.  Then we get his snack and leave at 12:15.

At school, they take him to the bathroom every day to try and help potty train him.  They have been completely unsuccessful, so all they do is change the Pull-Up.  He is always bone dry-then he pees all over himself and his clothes in the classroom.  He's been going through 2-3 outfits in 2 1/2 hours.

He never has accidents at home.  He is really good at changing his diaper himself if he's wet.  Or he will as for help.  So I think he's holding it on purpose and then wetting himself at school.  Maybe it's a passive-agressive thing, I don't know.  But I can't figure out why he's doing it, because he loves school.

So I really don't know what's going on.  But I hope it stops soon, if for no other reason than I hate laundry and he's going through all his clothes pretty fast these days.

Speaking Up

I dislike public speaking-in fact, I despise it.  I am extremely shy around others, to the point where I am painfully quiet.  I also get panic attacks, which doesn't help at all.

In high school, I joined Model UN, which involved speaking in front of large groups of people.  Oh, it also involved doing research or something about the policies of the countries you were assigned, but I could have cared less about it.  I didn't give a damn about Model UN either, except for the fact that it got me out of school.  I spent quite a few school days (and a few weekends) in various hotels, and that was cool.

For those of you unfamiliar with Model UN (United Nations), each school is assigned a country or two as well as topics that will be debated.  You are supposed to research your countries' stance on said topics and pretty much present and argue that viewpoint with other countries.  You can meet up with other kids who have countries that share your views and make resolutions to the problems with them.  It's pretty much a weekend full of kids pretending to be diplomats.  It was always really fun for me to watch heated debates.  I never participated in said debates.

Usually, our school was assigned unimportant countries like Djibouti (we always asked to be Djibouti-saying it still cracks me up).  However, when we went to a conference at the Naval Academy, we were assigned France and Mali.  I was actually kind of excited, because France had veto power on the Security Council.  So I jumped on it immediately with my friend (the girl who did the research for every model UN conference because she actually cared).

It was also awesome because my friend was a cadet at the Naval Academy at the time, so I got permission from my parents to spend some time with him instead of being stuck with my classmates and teacher the entire weekend.  We went to an awesome seafood restaurant with some other cadets and I gorged on crab.  It was great.

Anyway, since I was on the security council, it was a small group.  There were 1-2 kids representing each country, and less than 30 people in total in our conference room (which was also the nicest room I've ever done a model UN conference in-the Naval Academy knew how to hook us up).

Oh, and I forgot to mention another perk of the security council-at one point during the conference we would be presented with an emergency that we had to get together to solve.  Usually, it would happen in the middle of the night.  Unfortunately, our school was in a different hotel than everyone else, so it happened in the late evening, before we were supposed to go to the hotel.

I actually wanted to speak up at this conference.  I was excited we got a major country to represent, and only the cream of the crop was allowed to be on the Security Council.  I was totally prepared to get my debate on.

And then one of the kids who was Mali left to help someone out at the WHO (World Health Organization-yeah, we really pretended to be all parts of the United Nations for a weekend).  The kid who was left had never been to a conference before, so I told him to go with my partner as France and I would handle Mali.  It didn't take me long to brush up on Mali's policy, and I ran with it.  I did awesome.

I've always been good at debating when I put my mind to it.  I lose my shyness and become another person.  An incredibly aggressive and ruthless person who will destroy anyone with an opposing viewpoint.  I can point out fault with anything in order to prove that I am right and you are wrong.  This skill doesn't come in handy in real life-maybe I should have been a lawyer or something.

I spoke up constantly all weekend.  I jumped back and forth between France (since I had prepared for it) and Mali and made almost all the speeches for both countries.  I wasn't supposed to, but like I said, there were only 30-ish people in the room and they didn't want to argue with me (I would have totally won if they tried).

Needless to say, I kicked butt at this conference.  I even got an award at the end.  It was pretty much the only Model UN conference I spoke at, even though I did Model UN for 3 years.  I think I was less intimidated by the small group.  Usually, in the general assembly, there are hundreds of kids in an auditorium, which is like my worst nightmare.

Since then, I still have trouble with public speaking, but not debating.  I learned that weekend that I am awesome at debating.  I can keep my cool, get my point across, and refute anything that someone throws at me.  This is not true in life.  If I am not prepared to be confronted, even a semi-mean comments sends me into tears.  I can't really figure out what is so different that I am okay in one situation and not in another.   But I do know that no one can beat me in a debate.
 
This post was written in response to one of this week's prompts from Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.  I chose 3.)Speech!! Tell about a time you had to speak or present in front of a group of people.  So I wrote about speaking for the first time at Model UN, which I really enjoyed throughout high school (even though I joined for the wrong reasons).

Apparently I Have Crappy Friends

If this is true, then I really only  have one friend and my family.  That sounds so sad when I actually have to look at it.  I really like this quote, though, because, when you think about it, it makes a lot of sense.

Why should we try to cultivate friendships when we are the only ones who care?  It reminds me of all the craptastic people I have friended on Facebook who I haven't seen in 10 years or more.  A lot of them are just people I went to school and never hung out with.  Whatever, I don't care that we don't talk.

But the people I was friends with?  The ones I reached out to and nothing ever came of it?  They can go screw themselves.  I realize a lot has changed since high school, but I spent a lot of time with some of these girls.  Like, every single day of the week.  We got driven to school together, walked home together, and hung out every day.  We went to concerts together.  Now, nothing.

One person in question actually lives down the street from me.  I see her sometimes and we always say we will hang out one day.  And I make the effort to do it.  I invite her to come to the zoo with me and my kids, or to take a walk-then nothing.  It sucks, and I don't know why I waste my time on people who were friends who now don't care.

Another girl comes to mind as well.  We were both outcasts in school, and in the same honors and AP classes.  We ate lunch together between the stacks in the library.  I've reached out to her a few times and she couldn't even be bothered to attempt to make plans.  This was a girl who I liked so much that I lost my popular friends for sticking up for her.  I bet I could pass her on the street now and she wouldn't give me the time of day.  I never had a lot of friends, so it's not fun when the old ones dump me.

Then there was college, where I met a lot of awesome people, many of whom were in my major, screenwriting. Which was good, because our major had a grand total of 15 students.  In our classes, you really got to know everyone and you loved them or hated them (although I only hated one girl, and only after we lived together for a year).  A lot of us shared apartments.  Thankfully, I still talk to a few people in college and even though we don't spend a lot of time together.  I still consider many of them my friends.


Then I have my best friend, Lady.  We met on the first day of college and hit it off right away.  And she had her car with her in Philadelphia.  I needed a car to come home to New York every weekend to see my then fiance.  She lived in an apartment, not a dorm like me, and went home on weekends too.  We spent a lot of time in the car together those 4 years.  Actually, we just spent a lot of time together.

We met up every morning and walked to class, went to lunch between classes, and went to each other's apartments after class.  I don't know why we never became roommates because we spent pretty much every waking moment together for 4 years.  I love her to death.  She knows all my dirty little secrets, and we've been with each other through good times and bad, through breakups and problems.

Even though we only see each other a few times a year now, we're still really close.  We usually meet up on birthdays and Columbus Day (which means I get to see her Monday, woohoo!).  She and her fiance love my kids, and his kids love playing with mine, even though they're older (although it is pretty funny to see a 3 year old beat up on a 7 year old).  This summer, I had a big birthday party for me and we spent hours reminiscing about college with another guy from our major (my boyfriend and her fiance and the kids all fell asleep waiting for us to wrap it up).

It is really hard for me to make new friends.  I've been hurt so many times by people that I put up a wall.  I'm sure a lot of people who don't know me well are intimidated by me or think I'm a bitch.  But I have my family and a few close friends (okay only 1 close friend and a few other friends), and that's enough for me.  Because I know they care about me and won't judge me for stupid things.  I can be myself and not worry about it.  They just get a bigger piece of my heart and that is good enough for me.


This post was written in response to a prompt from this Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.  5.) I have no idea where the following message originated from, but it’s been floating around Facebook for the past week…who does it make you think about? (message in photo at top of post)

Humiliation in Science Class

I was absolutely mortified.  If I could have hidden under my desk and disappeared, I would have.  We were in 9th grade.  Our Earth Science teacher started maternity leave and our teacher for the second half of the year was the formerly retired Mr. Makower.  He was old, he was fat, and as far as I'm concerned, he was evil.

I spent a ton of time working on my project about the striations in Bear Mountain State Park and how they related to the glacier that covered the area during the last ice age.  My dad had driven me to the park on a few occasions and helped me find, measure, and check the orientations of all those scratches in the rocks.  It was a lot of effort and calculations on my part, and I was proud of it.  I did solid work, and I didn't choose an easy project like many of the other kids in class.

He destroyed me.  It was his first day teaching our class, and apparently, he was an expert on striations.  I have always been very shy and prone to panic attacks.  I hated speaking in front of my classmates; I didn't want to get made fun of, so I spoke quietly.

Mr. Makower made fun of my for being quiet.  He pretended to search for a microphone.  He told me he didn't like mice in his classroom (get it, I was quiet like a mouse-so not funny).  He stood further and further away from me and made me repeat myself.  He made a big production of changing the seating arrangements in class so I was directly in front of his desk. 

I tried so hard not to burst into tears, but didn't really succeed.  That's when he really pounced.  He started asking me questions about glacial striations in other areas.  I didn't know the answers, since my project only dealt with the striations at Bear Mountain State Park.  He asked me some questions I could answer, and then kept trying to one-up me.  He mocked my answers and made sure he proved to the class that he knew more than me.  Of course he did!  I was 14 and a student-he was in his 70s and the teacher.

I have never been so humiliated in school.  He took a project I was proud of and turned it, and me, into the butt of his joke.  Throughout that half a year, he made sure to embarass me on many other occasions.  I wasn't a dumb kid-I got all As, and took honors and AP classes.  He made me feel like I wasn't a worthwhile person.  He made me hate going to his class-and I had always loved everything in school, even math, which I wasn't really good at.

I still don't know what I did to him to make him treat me like that.  He was mean to some of the other smart girls in the class, but he picked on me every day.  I can remember him giving me a B- on a paper, and the only comment on the entire thing was my misspelling of Massachusetts in the bibliography.  I despise him to this day, and the way he treated me still haunts me.

There is no excuse for a teacher treating a student like that.  They are there to help kids learn and grow and become better people.  They are not supposed to tear kids down and make them feel worthless.  I wish I hadn't been afraid to tell someone else in school about him.  That man should never have been allowed to be a teacher.

I pray my kids never ever have to deal with someone like him.  And if they do, I hope they will tell me.  Because I am not that scared little girl anymore, and now, I would rip someone like him apart.

I wrote this post in response to one of this week's prompts from Mama Kat's Writers Workshop.  I chose 4.) A time you felt wronged by a teacher. (inspired by Great Fun 4 Kids).

I Remember

I remember it like it was yesterday.  The day that changed this country: September 11, 2001.


I had just started going to school at the local community college.  I hated high school and I was smart, so I was given the option to do my senior year at college.

That morning, I got up and went to my 8am Economics class, with the African professor whose accent was so thick I couldn't understand most of what he said.

I walked across campus to my gym class, weightlifting.  The teacher told us that she knew some of us were upset about the accident that had happened in the city, so we could skip class and not get penalized.

I had no idea what was going on.  The radio was on and I heard bits and pieces, but all I gathered was that a plane crashed somewhere in the city.

When I got home after class for my break, I turned on the TV, just in time to see the first tower collapse.  I stayed glued to the TV for the rest of the day, horrified.

People's parents worked near there.  I live in the suburbs, but Manhattan is only 20 miles from my house.  I knew tons of kids whose parents were New York City firefighters, or stockbrokers, or myriad other occupations which put them in the vicinity of the tragedy.

I was in shock.  I called my parents at their schools to talk to them.  I  didn't go back to school that day for my afternoon classes.  All I could do was watch the news.

Thankfully, no one in my family or my friends' families were injured or killed that day.  But so many were, and so many people in my town, and at my school, were suffering from losses.  The tragedy impacted everyone so heavily, and continues to do so still.

Now, on the tenth anniversary, the news is airing all the footage from that day.  I refuse to watch it.  I saw it once, and, as far as I'm concerned, there is no need to open the floodgates of feelings that day by re-airing it.  And honestly, my kids are too young to see that, and way to young to understand it.

I can remember without the footage.  All I have to do is look at the skyline.  It's forever changed.  And just because I won't watch anything about it doesn't mean I don't care.  I will remember in my own way.

9/11 really affected me and made me grow up a lot.  I was 17, and it was one of the first times something so big had an impact on my life.  I realized the world was bigger than me.  I cried for all those who were trapped in those buildings and their families, who suffered at their loss.  I remember all the brave volunteers, firemen, and policemen who stepped up to the plate to help.  I know many of them are suffering now because they decided to help.

I'm also proud my city and the country moved on.  Everyone showed they were so strong and could still function and survive in the face of adversity.  I will always fondly remember the Incubus concert my dad and I attended in the city 3 days later.  The people who were there, and who were going about their business in the city at all reminded me just how resilient we New Yorkers are.

I will always remember the Twin Towers and the people who lost their lives on 9/11.  I will always remember those who selflessly helped.  I refuse to live in fear of another terrorist attack.  I will always remember how strong New Yorkers are, and how the entire country banded together in the face of adversity.  God bless America, and all those who were affected by 9/11.  My thoughts and prayers are with you all.

This post is linked to MommyNaniBooBoo and A Dollop of My Life

School and Bees

Yesterday was T's third day of preschool.  I picked him and we went home.  I left him with his dad and went to Costco, where I bought enough school snacks to last until the new year.  Then I came home.

We were hanging out in my bed, watching Scooby Doo, even though it's the new one and I think it's a little too scary for the kids.  T got upset and was pointing to his leg.

"Mommy, ing, ing, ow!"  I looked at his leg, and lo and behold, there was a bee sting.  It was not there in the morning, and he didn't get it on the way to or from my car, which means he got it at school.  I double-checked with the boyfriend to make sure that it was, in fact, a bee sting.  It was, and he had to get the rest of the stinger out.

Needless to say, I was livid.  Thank God he wasn't allergic.  I have a huge fear of bees, and I have never been stung.  I am terrified I will be allergic.  When I see a bee, I scream and run.  Sometimes, there is also crying involved.  I'm just happy T was ok.  I asked him where he got the sting, and he told me it happened at "ool".

I know the kids all have time on the school playground.  I'm assuming that is when it happened.  I'm also sure that T would most likely have screamed and possibly cried when it happened, and he definitely would have showed it to an adult.  Even if they couldn't understand what he told them, the sting was obvious.  It was on the side of his leg, just below his knee.  I know that by the time I saw it, it was red around the edges and swollen.

So why did no one tell me?  Someone at the school had to realize he got stung by a bee, or at least that something happened on the playground.  This is supposed to be a wonderful school.  The longer I reflect on it, the angrier I am. 

I would understand if he fell down and didn't get hurt and no one told me, but a bee sting?  It is ridiculous.  I am going to give the principal or whoever is in charge an earful on Monday, because what they did is not ok.

T's First Day of Preschool!

Wednesday was T's first day of preschool.  I took it better than I thought I would.  Unfortunately, he wasn't feeling well Tuesday night (we either brought something in the house or used a cleaning product that gave him really bad allergies) and didn't sleep well.  Thank goodness he is in the afternoon class, because I couldn't get him out of bed until 10:45.

T reading a book before class

At first he was excited to go to school, but changed his mind once we stopped at my parent's house to get his backpack and school supplies.  I'm so glad my mom took care of it, because I totally forgot he needed anything.  I have been really stressed about school and not being with him all day.

He drank his school snacktime milk at my mom's house

Thankfully, after a tantrum and tears, he let me take some pictures and we were ready to go.

He is definitely a ham when he wants to be

I'm so happy we left early, because I got the last parking spot.  After I got there, parents were parking crazy: on the grass, in the middle of the street, in the aisle between rows of parking, and other odd places.  We had to wait inside to find out where his classroom was.

Thankfully, there was this to keep him occupied while waiting

I took him to his classroom and he was immediately playing with some toys, so I gave his backpack and supplies to his teacher and hi-tailed it out of there before he changed his mind about staying.  I'm not even gonna lie; I cried a little when I got back to my car.

When I went to pick him up, I realized he is the biggest kid in his class.  The other kids look younger than Princess, who is a year younger than T.  I don't know if T's just really big and the other kids are his age, or if his speech is so bad that he is with kids a lot younger than him.  I guess it doesn't matter as long as he improves.

He threw a giant tantrum on the way out of school and I had to carry him to the car.  I will never wear 5-inch platform shoes in the rain to his school again, because I thought I was going to trip and kill myself in the parking lot.  Now, my feet are killing me, but T is finally happy because I bribed him with library DVDs.  And I finally picked up my rhinestones at the post office so I can make some deco phone cases.

Hopefully, he gets into the school routine and likes it, since he will be going 5 days a week.  I think it will be easier for me when his busing starts in November.



I wrote this post for this week's prompt from Mama Kat's Writing Workshop (although I probably would have posted the pictures anyway!)
3.) First day of school pictures…let’s have’em!

Too Big, Too Soon

My kids are growing up too fast.  Especially T.  He is starting preschool on Wednesday, and it's at the point where I can no longer deny it.  My anxiety has been through the roof this past week, partly due to family problems, and partly due to feeling like my oldest is going to leave me.

I know he's only going to preschool for a few hours a day, and I know he needs it, and he will still need me, but I'm still fighting the feeling of abandonment.  I've struggled with anxiety problems for the past 13 years, and I also have Borderline Personality Disorder, which I know contributes a lot to me feeling like this.

I know he will love preschool.  He went to speech camp for a month this summer and had a great time.  It also helped him be more vocal, which is great.  It is still pretty much impossible to understand most of what he says, though, due to the speech apraxia.  I'm just happy he's even trying to talk.  He had no words at all until after he was 3.

We had to fight tooth and nail to get him into this special preschool.  We still have to fight to get him OT so someone will help him with the behavioral side of things, but it's a start.  I will miss him so much while he is gone.  It just feels different than if he were to go visit his grandparents for a few hours. 

He's old enough to go to school.  He's not my little baby anymore.  I can't remember him as a baby.  At all.  I see pictures and I know he was that little, but I can't specifically remember anything of him as a baby besides giving birth to him.  The next memories I have are when he was close to a year old.  I feel like the time is flying by too fast, and I just want to slow it down to savor every moment.

At the same time, I want him to learn and be able to talk like the other kids.  I want him to make friends and be normal.  He's never had a playdate.  He's met kids at the playground and, since he's big for his age, the older kids wonder why he doesn't talk and won't play with him.  The younger kids won't play with him either because he is always too close to them and doesn't respect their personal space.  He cannot grasp the concept, and, although the other parents understand when I explain, the kids are uncomfortable around him.

I want him to be normal, or at least be around other kids who have similar issues, or who aren't bothered by his.  I want this school to improve his speech to the point where he can go to regular kindergarten.  I've thought about holding him back from kindergarten a year so he and his sister can be in the same grade because she understands him.

I want him to grow up and go out into the world, but I want to protect him.  I'm afraid kids will be mean to him like they were to me growing up.  I'm afraid he won't fit in.  I'm afraid I won't know how to handle anything going wrong with him because I'm such an emotional person, and when I'm upset, I know I'm not at all rational.

But I don't want my fears to affect him.  He doesn't see me crying at night because I feel like I'm going to lose him as he grows up.  He can't see my anxiety behind my forced cheer when I tell him about school.  So, on Wednesday, I'm going to dress him in his new school clothes, with his pirate backpack, and drive him to school.  I'm going to walk him in like all the other parents, give him a kiss, and wish him good luck.  And hopefully, I will make it back to my car before I burst into tears in front of all the other parents.