Empty Nest part one.

Okay, so I know already that tomorrow I'll have lots to add to today's post, therefore, I'm doing it in increments. Because I'm brilliant, obviously. Today was the day I'd been kind of dreading. Cole's Kindergarten assessment test. A few posts ago I'd said that he was assessed back while I registered both kids for this year. And I wasn't there, while he was tested, so I just kind of guessed what they'd look for in a kid starting Kindergarten. When Riley started, they required her to know the alphabet...both upper and lower cases weren't required, just as long as they had some recognition of the letter, how to write her name, and to count from 1 to 10. Easy, peasy. And remember when I said that I didn't prep him whatsoever before going? And a stranger took him, alone, into an unfamiliar classroom and asked him questions. And before all this, tried to calm him with fruit snacks. Cole is a "dessert after" kind of guy. Otherwise, he just doesn't have any real motive to do what you're asking of him, does he? Anyway, after that, Jeff has been working with him on his letters, and I've been working with him on his numbers. He and I would sing the alphabet, he could write his name, but a bit of dyslexia would set in and sometimes he'd switch the position of the e and the l. So, all in all, he was really coming along. I even bought him a couple of DVDs of Sesame Street. The Alphabet and counting to 20. I realize, knowing my son, and the way he has every DVD of ours memorized, this should have been the way to go in the first place. But I didn't want to be "that parent". The one that sits their kid in front of the TV all day, and expects them to learn. The problem? Cole is that kid. He LOVES watching movies...and watching them over and over so he can understand the jokes, the lines, the definition of words, and repeat them. Riley was never that way, she liked the one on one time with me or Jeff. Cole just thinks it's lame after fifteen minutes. So, after watching the alphabet movie a couple of times, he was easily saying L, M, N, O, P as them being their own letters...(something that I didn't realize I think until like, first grade, at the earliest). And he went from counting to ten easily to getting to fourteen...and skips fifteen, and from there, can get to twenty. We still have to convince him that fifteen is an important number, too. All in all, though, I really thought he was ready for his testing. So a little before it was time, I used a magazine in the car, and started to ask him to name letters, as I pointed to them. For the first two minutes he was fine--doing excellent, and then he started to see more late kids show up for school, and lost interest. I got frustrated, because instead of looking at the letters, he watched the kids, and just guessed a letter when I'd ask him about one. (His eyes didn't even PRETEND to look at what I was pointing to), and I began to get frustrated and preachy, and he got his feelings hurt, and more nervous. So, points for me being the best mom in the world and all that. We then when into the school, and he saw his teacher, who is a little weird, to me...but I think that has to be the norm, because remember Miss Lippy on Billy Madison? I pretty much compare all Kindergarten teachers to her, and then feel better about the person in front of me.
I had to sit down and fill out papers while she tested Cole...and it was bad that I was there. Not for Cole's sake, however, for mine. Now, you've probably picked up a few clues as to the kind of parent I am. But when it comes to others TEACHING my children, it's like I become that parent screaming at the little league tee-ball team. I control it, but it's really, really difficult. I sat there, listening to Cole's teacher's requests: write your name-check. Count for me, as high as you can-check. What's this letter?-check.
Then it all went terribly wrong: Write the numbers one through ten. Write an A, a D, and an F. Tell me which words here are the "Rhyming" words. Show me where the front cover of the book is.....HUH? Cole was so unprepared. And confused. And it was so painful for me to watch. But on top of that, I was getting pissed and frustrated because as I sat there pretending to fill out emergency contact information AGAIN, she was asking him all these questions that, hello, aren't you supposed to LEARN in Kindergarden? I mean, what do you go for, besides the social developement, if you already know all this stuff? And the way she phrased her questions was weird, too...she wouldn't rephrase them. For instance: What does a "C" say? Cole just looks at her, she looks back at him and repeats, "What dooooes a C saaaaay"? Cole goes, "I don't know, what does it say"? And instead of rephrasing the question, she just went onto another letter. What does an "F" say? And so on and so forth. Well, Cole really didn't have a clue as to what she was asking. We've taught him, "what makes a "ca" sound?, to wich he'll respond, "C" or "K". And that's how he knows which letter it is...the other way around, it just made no sense to him, and I wanted to shout and tell her she was doing it all wrong, but the more sane side of myself kept reminding me to calm down and breathe, and it would do no favors to Cole for me to become enemies with his teacher. So I just sat there, and stewed, until they were done. Now, after all that, you'd think I would have gotten out of there, but she asked Cole if he was ready for school tomorrow, and he said yes, excited that he'd "done so well" on his testing.
I couldn't leave it at that. I wanted to explain a little...explain that no, my son isn't a dullard. (Oh, BTW, he totally kicked @ss on his listening and comprehension skills, I just had to add that. He's always been that kid that doesn't have to even look at you, and he's all over the place and you don't think he's using a single brain cell. However, afterwards, he can pretty much repeat exactly what you just said--and he gets it).
So I went up to his teacher, and started to explain that he knows all the sounds of letters, it's just that I've taught him wrong, I guess....and then, I could feel it coming on, but I couldn't control it, and I was right in the middle of a sentence, so I couldn't just run...I start bawling. I mean, the sobbing kind, that is uncomfortable for everyone. I was so embarrassed and angry with myself that it just got harder to control myself, and I finally choked out, "sorry, hormones and stuff..." She got this terrified look on her face, thinking I was snapping, and she needed to get to another assessment test, so she goes, "oh, he's going to do great. I know he's a smart kid, I can tell!" I gave her a smile while I was still convulsing and I'm sure it was really pretty and convincing on top of that. I apologized again, tried to make a joke of it, and obviously, at that point in time, could do nothing more than fail miserably. So now I'm just hoping that life will be a little easier for Cole seemingly how his teacher knows what he's dealing with at home. Either that, or she'll be so afraid to do anything remotely upsetting to him...and I guess that's a bit comforting as well. Yes, I am reaching. But honestly, it's all I can do after the humiliation that I suffered. Luckily I have Jeff to message during the day and relate all my fiascos. After our years of being together, he's just so good at knowing what to say to me, and how to say it. Also, Kelli came over and I explained to her the scenario. She eased my fears with her stories of working with school children and how they just try to cover EVERY base, to see not only if the kid is behind, but also advanced. They both really helped to settle my nerves and to hope that all is not lost.
Anyway, a very long and emotional story short, that was our preparation for today....his first day of school. Right now, he's downstairs, watching a movie that he knows all the words and sounds to, and I'm gearing myself to get him dressed and take him there. In a way, I'm sad. I know it's only two and a half hours of time to myself, and I'm sure that once Squish comes, I'll be thankful for the break..and that's what I've taken to calling Sydney...just because she's pretty much a bratty parasite right now. And because I've heard my sister Muff refer to her a couple times as "a little Squishy", and it just sort of caught on. (I say bratty, because she is. I can't lean up against anything, lay my favorite way, or sit on my favorite chair, just because she refuses to let me, already. She freaks out and starts kicking and punching until I move, and then she's okay. Also, she's begun to spaz out when I smell food, if I haven't eaten in the mornings. This never happened with my other two and it reminds me of scary alien babies, and books I've read where the host is impregnated with some sort of demon spawn. That being said, I am quite fond of my little Squish, but a little creeped out, as well).
Okay, that's the end of part one. I'm going to go get Cole dressed, and take pictures of him outside his classroom, and probably cry because for some reason, though I never would have guessed, I am that parent. Wish him luck.
(Also, I used pictures from my new phone...I'm pretty stoked about this, as they're not too blurry and such. So I tried to insert them in a place that would make sense, but if they don't, that's why). Until next time!

Ups and downs.

I will say this. So far, I think Jeff's new job is AWESOME. Not only has he been home from work each night this week at 6:30, but his work week didn't start until Tuesday, and it ended today, Thursday. He works three full, eleven hour days and has occasional catered lunches. (That's just high class, as far as I'm concerned. :) Then he puts seven hours in during his resulting four day weekend. I am sold. He's a bit reluctant to say how fabulous it is, simply because he hasn't been "working". I guess the company is going through some sort of process right now where there is a lot of waiting around, trying to come to a decision on the program they will use to do projects with. So now, Jeff is encouraged to do some freelance on their dime. He's getting antsy, I'm praising a company that actually saw what he can do, and is willing to pay him accordingly--even when he's doing nothing. Also, I'm going to brag a bit...Jeff was told that out of sixty applicants, he outshown them all. He doesn't seem to think that it's that big of deal. But if you ask me, he's finally getting some of the stuff for which he's worked so hard. (Also, Jeff's previous boss is asking Jeff back so he can train co-workers with stuff they should know, but he always did, so they didn't have to. Jeff was the one that took the time to figure stuff out on his own, and now he's severely missed). I'm just happy for my husband. And yes, I'm gloating...but he really deserves this.
Riley's first day of school went really well, according to her. She's made new friends, and gotten reaquainted with old ones. The sad part? Her best friend, Olivia, moved over the summer. My heart goes out to her, because I remember how painful it was, when my best friend moved away as a kid. I'm pretty sure she'll be okay, but it's going to be touchy for a while. She has been upbeat about not having any homework this week, though, so for that, I'm grateful. Cole is getting nervous about next week. He's had a couple breakdowns--making me promise him that while he's gone, Noony will be able to sit on the couch, and watch a movie...preferrably while covered with "blue blanket". I have made this promise a couple times, and am pretty convinced that there will be mention of it tomorrow, as well. But he seems to calm a bit when I promise that Noony will be looked after. He seems to getting in every last second he possibly can--his white rabbit has been brought along every errand we've gone on this week. I am honestly grateful that Kindergarten is only two and a half hours long, because we'd have serious problems if it were any longer. I think he's going to do just fine, though. It may take a few weeks to adjust, but he's a trooper, just like Riley. Jeff and I have started Dexter, season one. We've watched it before, but now that we also have Dexter, season two, we're starting all over again. And then the new season will start...ah, sweet autumn. It's all just beginning. Jeff and I savor our nightly shows, and now it begins all over again. I'm stoked.
I'm posting a couple photos from last week. I told Kelli that I would, so she'd have copies of them...but I want to warn my readers. I went for broke...I wore a bathing suit, as it was the end of summer, and I'd gone the entire time without coaxing this ginormous body into anything spandex. The sweats of some sort I wear daily have the same comfortable give, but do such a better job of hiding more. So in addition to the reflective nature of my skin, there's also the MORE factor. And this is always extra fun when you go swimming with the Coplen girls...I had a hard enough time when I was just nannying them, not hating myself for weighing more than 80lbs. But put on a bathing suit, and walk around jiggling while they lounge and there's not a spot of cellulite to be found...even worse. And girls, if you are reading this, it's only jealousy talking. Jealousy and inferiority. If I could look like you guys simply by, oh, murdering two or three people? I'd start making arrangements now.
The pool was fun, and I was a little sad that I'd avoided swimming all summer long, just because of vanity issues. Also, I think that my swimsuit is now lost to me forever. When I bought it, in JANUARY, it was cute and loose, and I thought that it would be used a gazillion times this summer. But there it sat, untouched until last week. I think I've stretched it out beyond recognition, but it's okay because I'm glad that I got to use it...So, thanks Kelli, for making us come along. The kids loved it, and I got burned--but in a good, "it's truly summer", way. And now that I've had the realization of summer, it's turning into fall, and I'm SO happy. I'm ready for the cooler weather and to put all my sweatshorts away. (I'm assuming that Jeff won't be objecting to this, either). So this is my goodbye to the heat. And hopefully, next summer, I WILL use my swimming suit as many times as I'd planned on using it this year. And hopefully, I'll be much smaller. I have heard it said that the third child is the curse to a woman's body. This was one of the reasons I was afraid to have a third baby--ONE of the reasons. Anyone have some insight on this? If it's bad news, I can take it. If it's good news, I need to hear it. Okay, it's time for sleeping. I'm rambling, and Riley's got school in the morning, so I need to be going. Until next time.

New Beginnings.

Things are changing 'round here. Jeff just changed jobs. This week was the beginning of him going to and from his office and being able to take off Mondays and Fridays, and yet, being paid for a full work week. He has to do the whole meetings thing, which isn't his favorite part, surely, but apparently when in high demand, people want to know what you're thinking. I wouldn't know. Big clients and all that. I'm just thrilled that when I have this baby he'll have more time at home with me. When Cole was a baby he worked full time and was going to night school, so seeing Jeff was rare, and having him alert to what was going on, and able to help out, was even rarer. So this time around, it will be drastically different, and I'm immensely grateful.
Today Riley starts school. Somehow I totally missed this. I really believed that I had an entire week left, that next Wednesday, the 27th, is when she would start. Thankfully I ran into a friend at Wal-mart-the bane of my existence-and she enlightened me that not only was later that evening, "Back to School Night", but that Riley would start school the next day, and then Cole, because he was going to Kindergarten, would start the next week. HE starts the 27th. Riley, gets to go today. Is it just me, or is that completely unfair to those of us that can't be held responsible for even the most menial tasks these days? Seriously. I was thankful that I pushed myself to get the kids school clothes and lunch items...that was a hunch that wasn't wasted, like so many of mine are. So a week from now, hopefully I can say that I'm on top of what's going on, and my schedule, and so on and so forth. Here's to hoping.
Last but certainly not least, I'm making personal changes that have been a long time coming. I won't go into detail, hence, the personal part. But I will say that this weekend was the beginning of something new to me. I've decided that I'm going to start being less of a people pleaser--because it's gotten to the point where I can't pull it off anymore. I'm going to focus on the things that I know I can handle, and cut back on the things I can't. So, after thinking about it extensively, and with the advice of many--recently and over the years, I'm making changes. I feel I've been accepting of others and what has made their lives better; even if I didn't understand, or necessarily agree. So I'm hoping that the same will go here. If not, though, it's okay. I've really pondered for a looooong time about how to find my own inner peace and how I need go about getting it. And I owe it to myself to try. Luckily I like myself enough to realize that there are options, and I owe it to myself to try them, and see what works. So that's that.
Anway, as you can see, big things are happening. And they are all good things, so I'm feeling really content with life right now. It's amazing how just taking a stand on a decision can really change your outlook on everything.
So I just sent Jeff off to work for the day. I'll wait around for a text from him telling me that he's doing okay, and that he's bored, but slowly getting used to what his new job entails. Next I'm going to go wake Riley and fix her hair, and take a ton of pictures of her in her first day of school outfit. And I'll marvel at how much I want from life just for my daughter, at how happy I am for her that her best girl friend is in her class this year, and how excited she is about it. And then I'll drop her off, and feel my heart break a litte because she's growing so fast and there's no way to stop it. Cole and I will wait here, and go over his letters and numbers and talk about him going to school next week, and how great it will be for him. And then it will be time to pick Riley up. Cole and I will be anxious to hear whether or not she likes her new teacher and how things were with Olivia...if they went back to being best friends, or if things were a little awkward at first. This will be our lives for the next school year, and I'm looking forward to it. It's different, but sometimes different is good, while always scary. New beginnings, and all. You know how it is.

Tags.

I actually have had a couple of tag games thrown my way, lately...so I decided to do them both at once. One of my cousins did a memory tag, where all commenters(you), list their first memory of the poster (me). So if you choose to, try to think about your first memory of me, and if it doesn't include my bad breath, boogers, or me showing very possible butt-crack, feel free to share it. (Even if it is embarrassing, which the chances are very likely, you're still invited to list it). In return, anyone that wants me to list a memory of them, may list the memory tag, or, just go on with their posts, and I can randomly list a memory on their blog...just as long as YOU know why I'm randomly commenting a memory. I'm sure there was a more eloquent way to describe this process, i.e., rules and such...but hopefully every reader is getting the basic gist.
The second one was the Tag from Amy. I need to list six random things about myself, for your reading pleasure. Get ready to be amazed.

1. According to the Hogle Zoo, I am approximately the size of an adult, male, Orangutan. (Just a little bit taller).

2. I make up words. I will say something...and Jeff will say, "I don't think that's even a word". I figure, if I said it, it's a word. If there is no definition of it, I can pretty much use it however I like. If there is a definition of it, and it's completely different from how I used it, I file that away as a lesson learned.

3. When I am singing in my car...I. Sound. AWESOME. I mean, seriously. You wouldn't even believe it.

4. Fall, to me, means new TV shows. Also, it means that new shows on DVD will become available for sale. I LOVE TV on DVD. It makes me happy.

5. I'm having a lot of WTF moments while reading Breaking Dawn. For fear of spoiling anything for anyone, that's all I will say.

6. I hate my hair. Hate, hate, HATE it. Even though it is my own fault, I am reminded each time that I look in the mirror, that I have the worst hair in the world. And it makes me sad, every time.

Okay, there are my six random things. Not overly interesting, sure. But totally random. As for picking people to tag next, I'm going to let you all off the hook. Basically, I think everyone has done this already...but should you feel like doing it, I'll be the first to blog-stalk you and make a comment. Cause, I really love hearing random things about people. Usually, those are the only things I can remember. Later dudes.

Okay, I'm changing my mind. I TAG KELLI. Now wow us all.

two thoughts.

Okay, so there are a couple of things weighing heavily on my little mind. First off, I'm rarely affected when celebrities die. I was sad about Heath Ledger, because let's face it...he was hot. Also, after seeing Dark Knight, I am convinced he was coming into his acting prime. That's just a waste, you know? But I'm sad today about Bernie Mac. I don't really know why...it's not like I'm a Kings Of Comedy aficionado or anything, but I did think he was funny. I actually liked the Bernie Mac show, and all his little parts in the "Oceans #" movies and Tranformers were quite fabulous, I thought. Also, I remember hearing a couple weeks ago that he went into the hospital because of Pneumonia...and thinking, "he'll be out in a week...no one dies of that anymore". Sad.
The second and completely unrelated thought is I HATE that stupid, dumb Katy Perry song: "I kissed a girl". It's on every single radio station in the state...and I find it pathetic that she's getting so much recognition for it. Because, hello, IT'S BEEN DONE BEFORE! It's not like she's breaking new ground, or anything. The same song, the same gist, was recorded in the '90s by Jill Solibule or something...I don't know how to spell her name. I supposed if she hadn't written and sung about the same exact experience then I'd have to give Katy Perry some credit for being ballsy enough to put it out there. But this is just flagrant recycling. Come on, people. In the words of Syndrome, it's "lame, lame, lame, lame, LAME!" My question is though, is it everywhere that this song is big? Or is it just Utah? I mean, surely there is more chart worthy stuff, somewhere, right?
Anyway, I just had to enlighten you all. Happy Monday. That is all for now.

I got friends.

I just wanted to say thanks to all of you that commented in my time of need. I feel better knowing that most moms don't feel like mothering is easy, and that making all the decisions, everyday, isn't as cut and dry as some people make it out to be. Now I feel more normal, less stressed, and validated. Also, hearing that I'm a fabulous mother from all of you was a nice pat on the back. I may have to print out the comments section and frame it...just so others can "accidentally" see it when they visit my house. (I'm sure I'll come up with some covert, believable excuse as to why there are three copies sporadically placed in different areas of my home, plated in glass). Just kidding. Kind of. Like I said, to all you: thanks, I appreciated it.
Also, thanks to my husband for not only continually telling me to "not even think about it", and threatening to go punch the previously posted-about person in the face. (Now if THAT'S not a true example of manliness, I just couldn't tell you what is). Also, thanks to him for helping me figure out the problem I had with posting more links to blogs that are fabulous. Er, apparently when you type in the number of people that it can show, it WILL ONLY show that number of links. I mean, who knew, right? I just couldn't have been more surprised. (Or non-computer savvy). So, sorry to all that were thinking I had intentionally snubbed them. It just turns out that I'm a complete moron, and this shouldn't be news to anyone, really.
Lastly, I wanted to apologize for the last bit of my last post. Namely the part when I went off about everything disgusting me, and sounding very much like a "Man Hater". I don't hate men. I mean, remember all my boyfriends? I don't even hate men that read Guns 'N' Ammo magazine, even though I mentioned it. I was just on a rant...and usually when that happens, I use whatever example that pops into my head at that moment. No, this isn't a good quality, and yes, I'm aware that I should probably think more often before I write. However, I don't. When I'm mad, I go for the jugular. Jeff gets on the receiving end of this bad habit quite often, and it's not fair, and I should be able to exercise some control by now. But I don't/can't. Or, I've failed in all my attempts so far, I should say. I'll continue to work on it.
Anyway, I'd like to be confident enough in myself to say I don't usually doubt...but that would be a lie. I do try to get over it, and be better, because if I continually worry about what kind of person I am, I feel myself shut down and start to panic. Doubting myself as a mother and a wife though, is worse because instead of only me, it involves the people I love most. Long story short, it's really nice to have friends and family that are willing to comfort and console me. So thanks all. Next time I have an emotional issue, I'll make sure I post so you can make feel better about myself. :)
Just kidding. Sort of.

Cowboy Up.

(Photo by Cole)








I've been thinking a lot about something that was said to me recently. Something that I wouldn't have been able to deal with regularly, however, now that I'm pregnant, can't handle at all.
I won't say who exactly said it, because as you all know, I am NOT a gossip. (Two minutes out of each day, anyway). This happens to be one of those two minutes, so I'll not mention names...but I will give you the gist of everything. Anyway, first things first. I will own up to a lot of things about myself that aren't exactly happy or shiny things. Namely, and most obviously, my chubbarrificness, and my mental instability. After years of struggling with these downsides to my overall person, I'm finally coming into understanding that these are things I can't exactly change, but things I can continually work on. Also, they are both easier to joke about, than cry about when I have to face reality. So I will be the first to admit that I have quite a few negative aspects...this is okay. This is I think normal, as most people have a quirk or idiosyncracy or just plain embarrassing fact about them that isn't something they share in first introductions.
There is one thing that I can't be flip about. It's so important to me that when questioned by others, I usually am reduced to tears...because I just can't stand the possiblity that this is true. It's the famous good mom vs. bad mom debate. Am I a rotten mother? I hope not, I seriously do. That being said, I will admit that some days I have no patience. There are days that I sit and read and don't do anything motheresque. There are days that the whining of my children sounds like nails on a chalkboard to me, and I feel a headache coming on, and the only way I can get around it is to take a nap. Obviously these aren't my best days...these are days that I would never even be considered as a great mom. But, am I a ROTTEN mother? Do I neglect them? Am I turning them into serial killers or sociopaths because of my personal breakdowns? For the most part, I don't think so. Sure, I feel massive amounts of guilt, because I see other moms that have double the kids I do, that work, and that seem like they always have everything together. But that's not me. It's unfortunate for my children, truly. But I'm being realistic.
Anyway, I have been accused of ruining my son. Apparently, he's too much of a "momma's boy", and he spends way too much time with me. In this, I have basically erased all manly characteristics that he may have developed by...by what? By being with his dad all the time? By playing with the kids in the neighborhood? I will admit that he loves me. I will admit that his attention to me makes me happy. That when he and Riley come up to me and give me a hug or tell me they love me, that's the making of my day. But I was told that this is wrong. (Note: Riley is fine. Because she's a girl, she can spend time with me without turning into that freakshow that eats her boogers and scabs and will never have any friends. That, at least, is a relief). That he's not out there swinging sticks around and tearing grasshoppers apart and calling other kids names that are demeaning and rude, means he's going to have severe problems. So, because of this, I'm setting him up to be the picked on kid. In turn, he'll have no self-esteem, and then he'll act out, and then he won't have any friends, because everyone else will think he's weird and have some kind of unnatural love affair with his mom. Some of these things were actually mentioned as the "not named" accuser was trying to make their point. I, instead of saying something somewhat coherent, started crying and doubting myself like a little beyotch.
The problem is, I really worry about who my kids are going to turn out to be. I want them to know that as cliche as it sounds, they truly can do anything. That no matter who they are, I love them and am proud of them, and they constantly amaze me with their love and kindness and brilliance. But sometimes I'm reduced to that crying girl--the one that is so completely scared that I'm ruining two perfect little beings, by all the poor decisions I make. When someone else other than me points it out, it's all that much worse. So I guess my question is, what can I do to ensure that my little boy is comfortable being a sensitive guy, and yet, be that man that everyone expects him to be? I've seen so many examples of "men" that just disgust me. I find that Jeff is the best example to Cole, because he's kind and he's smart and he's thoughtful and yet, he's not afraid to do things that "true men" just don't do...according to the guns and ammo magazines. But Jeff can't be here constantly, because he's out there, supporting us. And so he's with me, day in and day out, and it's been said to me that I've completely dropped the ball. How do I cowboy up? All the suggestions I hear disgust me, because there's no way I want my son to turn into that boy that's just a jerk, and so often idolized because he's the epitome of what men are supposed to be like. So, like I said, let me know. I'll probably cry about it, but I'll try to see the other side, too. Just don't tell me I'm a rotten mom...because that's where I draw the line.