My Mother, My Mentor, My Friend - My First Interview of the new Getting To Know You Series

Beginning TODAY, I am turning the tables on my family and friends. Periodically, I will be posting interviews that I have conducted with various individuals important to me in my life. And given that my Mother's Day post was nonexistent because my Mother's Day was THAT bad, I thought the best person I could think of to start with is my Mom.

Now my Mom may or may not read this blog. She won't admit it to me directly but she seems to know stuff before I have the chance to tell her. She was surprisingly very candid and happy to be interviewed. My Mom is private, thoughtful and introspective. Just like me. Ha! Sometimes I don't think it's possible for a mother and daughter to be more different but then just when I think that, I find myself doing or saying something exactly like her. So without further adieu... here is the interview I did with my Mom.
Me: Hi Mom. What are you doing?
Mom: Trying to figure out this paperwork.
Me: You know my blog?
Mom: yeah
Me: Well, I want to interview you for it. I'm going to interview people cool huh? Can I interview you?
Mom: Sure!
Me: Really?
Mom: Sure! Yeah...go ahead!
Me: Oh okay, okay, let's start with this. Are you glad to talk to me on my blog?
Mom: Oh Sure.
Me: What do you think people would want to know about the mother of Amy Meeker?
Mom: How she [the mother] survived!
Me: Good one Mom! You mean how you survived?
Mom: Yep
Me: What do you think people that know you would be surprised about you?
Mom: That I hoard socks. I can't ever throw them away.
Me: Ha ha...even the ones that you can't wear because they have seams?
Mom: Yep, I can't throw them away.
Me: Who is your favorite person in the whole world?
Mom: Jessica and Katie. They are tied for first place.
Me: Why didn't you say me?
Mom: Because they make my heart sing and don't criticize me.
Me: When I was in junior high/high school and I used to steal your clothes and wear them were you really mad or just trying to teach me a good lesson?
Mom: Both. I was trying to teach you a lesson about respecting other people's property because you weren't very good at that and I was mad because you stained them.
Me: Do you think I wasn't good at respecting other people's property because I was an only child and I never had to share?
Mom: No, absolutely not. I just think you weren't good at it.
Me: I think it was because I didn't have a sibling to borrow stuff from.
Mom: I don't think so.
Me: When you were a Mom and I was 5 and starting kindergarten,what were your hopes for me for when I was a Mom and my kids were getting ready to start kindergarten?
Mom: That you would become a good reader. That's why I read to you a lot. I hoped you would stay sweet because you were really sweet. That you would learn to speak more quietly because I couldn't figure out how to teach you that. (laughing) But reading was the most important.
Me: Do you think I'm a good reader?
Mom: Yes, I think you are a very good reader.
Me: What's your favorite movie of all time?
Mom: Casablanca
Me: Why?
Mom: It's just such a great story. I laugh and cry no matter how many times I've seen it.
Me: Would you have gone with Humphrey Bogart at the end?
Mom: Oh yes. For sure.
Me: What is something that you hate doing in your every day life?
Mom: Combing my hair. I hate combing my hair.
Me: Do you like your son in law?
Mom: Yes. I love him.
Me: Why?
Mom: Because he’s a decent person, a good man, he understands commitment, doing a good job and he puts up with you and I really don’t want you back. (Laughs again)
Me: Do you like me better than Mike?
Mom: Yes of course. You are mine.
Me: Since your mother is 90, has Alzheimer's and has no chance of ever reading this blog, I'd like to ask you some questions about what it's like to be a primary care giver to a parent. I have some friends and people who have mentioned they read this blog that are getting ready to begin that phase of life and I think they would be interested in what it is like to be a care giver to a parent.
Mom: Well, it’s a pleasure, it’s a heartache, it’s hard work, it’s emotional. It is something that I don’t take lightly. I made a commitment to my Dad to take care of my Mom and it is something I take seriously. More times than not it is a pleasure. I feel lucky.
Me: What have you found to be the biggest challenge?
Mom: To be patient and understanding and realize that she is changing so rapidly. Her mind is getting worse and she’s getting worse quickly.
Me: What is the greatest joy about being Grammie's care giver?
Mom: The time I get to spend with her. That I can do things she did for us. She was a good Mom and I can do those things for her.
Me: What advice would you give someone who is getting ready to take on this role? What do you wish someone would have told you or what do you wish you would have known?
Mom: I wish I would have paid more attention and learned more about the aging process. Because if I had I would have been more patient. Sometimes I wasn't patient with Papa and I wish I would have known more and been more patient. The whole thing is, it is a joy. When I can make her life a little bit easier I feel good about it.
Me: What can extended family members like me, Mike, your sisters and Grammie's other grandchildren do to help you in your role as the primary person? Do you think it should be a whole family effort or do you think it works best when there's one person as the primary caregiver?
Mom: I think every person can take an interest in what's going on and what is being done. People can help out when they are available. My two sisters live far away and they always help when they can. Family members and friends should try and contact the older person as much as they are able. The older person lives for the phone calls and visits and they mean a lot to them. Share your family successes and happy news and don't share your troubles and problems. Their minds can't take it anymore. Remind them of happy times they can remember. It cheers them up a lot. If you can call or visit them on a regular schedule (like once per week) so that they get used to looking forward to the call or visit coming at the same time. That sort of consistency is important to them. They really enjoy the contact. I don't think people can call or visit an older person too much, because they forget so much of what has just happened.
Me: Do you think that is universal for all old people?
Mom: Absolutely. I see a whole bunch of people just like Grandma at the Meadows. (Grammie's assisted living community) They all are just looking forward to the next visit or phone call from their family members. I'm really lucky I have a couple of sisters who really understand and call her everyday or often times even more than once per day.
Me: I think that's really good advice. I think it can really help people. I have been surprised about email that I get or when I run into people and they mention this blog. You'd be surprised that you just probably helped somebody think about or pick up the phone and call their Grandma or have more patience with their mother. Okay moving on. Who is the best band of all time?
Mom: The best band?
Me: Yeah, band.
Mom: Journey. Probably Journey. Followed by Chicago and Styx.
Me: What is your biggest vice or bad habit?
Mom: That I waste time in the mornings. I should be more rushy.
Me: Because you are playing computer backgammon against the Russians?
Mom: No, not because I am playing computer backgammon against a Russian. I just waste too much time. Like I think about all this stuff I have to do and before I know it the morning is gone. Me: But isn't that a perk of being retired? That you don't have to rush anymore?
Mom: Well yeah, but you can really over do it. You can take retirement over the top and to new heights and sometimes I take it over the top. (laughing)
Me: Do you have plans to quit and start rushing?
Mom: No. (ha ha)
Me: Okay, thanks Mom. Is there anything else you'd like us to know or that you'd like to say on my blog.
Mom: No. Oh yeah there is. I don't like how you sometimes say words like "crap" and words that make it look like you don't have use of expanded grammar.
Me: You mean like bad words?
Mom: No, just stupid words. You use them too much. And you over share.
Me: But Mom, sometimes crap is the only word that describes my day. Sometimes certain words just fit into how I'm feeling.
Mom: Oh!!! And you talk too much about yourself. I think they call it narcissistic or something. You always write about yourself and not enough about other stuff.
Me: (laughing) Like what should I write about?
Mom: Like when you read a good book or do something with the girls you should talk more about the book instead of yourself and how you don't read this in June but you read that in September.
Me: (laughing harder) Do you read any other blogs?
Mom: No
Me: Do you see in my profile where I admit that I am narcissistic and bored and too engrossed in myself and that's why I even have a blog.
Mom: Yes I've seen that.
Me: Did you know I like talking about myself so much?
Mom: You sure do. (whew...with an exhausted voice)
Me: Well thanks Mom. I think this was a good first interview.
Mom: Oh one more thing.
Me: Yes?
Mom: On May 26th I will have been sober for 20 years.
Me: Really?
Mom: Yes, 20 years.
Me: And you quit cold turkey?
Mom: I haven't touched a drink in 20 years.
Me: Do you miss it?
Mom: Not a bit.
Me: That's really awesome.
Mom: May 26th. Twenty years.
Me: Hmmmm....that's about the same time I graduated from high school and was on my way out of the house.
Mom: Yep, my stress went away. (laughing) No you didn't have a thing to do with it.
Me: Well, good job. Lot's of people have tried to quit something they are addicted to and very few succeed over the long run. That's pretty awesome.
Mom: Thanks.
Me: Okay, bye.
Mom: Bye.

If you know my Mom, you are probably as surprised as me about how candid and open she was. It was awesome! In keeping with the narcissistic nature of my blog, I think it was my superior interviewing skills. I really think I could replace Oprah. Just joking. Thanks Mom for talking to me today. Sorry I called you ten other times and forced you and Dad to meet me and the girls and Grammie Bea for Thai food and that I chose all the dishes we ordered. It was soooo good though. I'll do a review of the restaurant on my food blog and will try to talk about the food and the place instead of me okay?

Last Night At Target

It's been like two months since I've done any shopping at all. We were out of everything. $500 later at Target, the girls had HAD IT. They were bored and wanted a million toys and I was tired of fighting them and saying no. It was one of those moments you know?

So pretty soon I see Katie crying. And I'm all "now what?" And she goes "Jessica wants to play the game where we smell each other's feet and then taste them. And I just don't feeeeeel like tasting feeeeet".

Tasting feet? Really Jessica?

Just when you think they are smart, you find out they are foot tasters.

A Slide Show of My Life

I haven't posted pictures in a long time. It takes so much dang time. So tonight as I watched Lee make American Idol history, I thought I'd put up a few reasons that I sing Hallelujah on a daily basis.

New Chapter of Bossy & The Geek

Alison, thanks for the FB message and encouragement! I posted the next chapter today after almost a year hiatus from my other stupid little blog about my silly little love story with my silly little husband. I didn't know if I would continue to tell our story but I'm so glad I did. If you are checking it out for the first time, please go back to Chapter One or you will just think I am crazy and not get anything.

you can check out the latest installment at www.bossyandthegeek.blogspot.com

Have fun and I stroll down memory lane. And expect that it will not take a year for another post.

The Help

Just finished the book The Help which has been sitting on the Best Seller's List since before Christmas. My Mom got it for me as a Christmas gift and one thing lead to another, like me rereading the Twilight Saga, new books by my favorites like David Baldacci and John Grisham and the great Nora Roberts (don't judge me because I am a romantic). See I have this rule, it's a great rule really if you really think about it. From Labor Day until Memorial Day I don't read ANYTHING that has literary acclaim or value. I am all about romance novels and murder mysteries and spy thrillers and People Magazine. I mean of course I read the scriptures EVERY DAY for hours and hours but other than that, I keep it 100% superficial. The reason is that I am trying to avoid seasonal depression. You heard me. Seasonal depression, look it up. When it's winter and gray outside and raining and cold I find that reading fluff makes me feel happier. I don't have to think too hard about world hunger, racism, war and sadness. My brain hardly ever hurts and I find it lessons the winter blues. During the spring and summer I am by nature a happier creature so I have room in my heart and head for the classics and more difficult pieces. I try and read contemporary literature that has won literary awards. You don't find these books in the romance or mystery shelves at Borders. They are found in the literature racks. I have to force myself to stay out of the thriller aisle and pick up John Updike and Victor Hugo and Louisa May Alcott. Edith Wharton, ugh. It's painful sometimes but like lifting weights, it's supposedly good for you.

Anyhow, a couple of books that technically would have been part of my summer reading slipped in before Labor Day. I read the Thorn Birds this winter for the first time. meh. I don't see what all the fuss was about. Meggie is maybe the most annoying character in any book and Justine possibly the most sociopathic. And Ralph is just sad and might be the greatest argument for Priests being able to marry that there ever was. But then during these infusions I was out of fluff so I turned to the only book on my shelf that was unread. It was The Help by Kathryn Stockett. It was one of the best books I have ever read. It is in my top 10 you guys. And that says a lot. It's not my normal genre, it's not the normal type of story I devour. But it was such an amazingly funny and heart warming and sad story that I could not put it down. I literally had to set the book down because I was laughing so hard. When does that happen? If you happen to pick it up, please don't be scared off by the subject matter the setting or time it is set in. Please just buy it, check it out from the library, borrow it from me and read it.

Summary: Read The Help. Please. You won't regret it. Email me and let me know what you thought about it or leave a comment here. I'd love to know if you enjoyed it.

Forgive me Internet, I have sinned.... Friday Confessions

• Let's just get this fire ball from hell rolling by stating that it has been forever since my last Friday confession. I'm not quite sure what happened. I still sinned, big time. I just stopped typing up my sins. I think I stopped doing my visualization of how this whole thing is supposed to go down. Scene: Argentina, it is a hot summer day. A woman enters a small Catholic church. The sun is streaming lights through the stained glass windows casting a stream of dust lights into the front pew. She is dressed in a black satin wrap around dress with a crinoline slip underneath. Black pumps. Her hair is curled at a silky bun at the nape of her neck. She has on pearls, a black pill box hat with a short black fishnet veil that shrouds her face in mystery. Her black satin purse is draped over her forearm and the lace from a white handkerchief is peeking out. She genuflects at the end of the center aisle and kneels in the pew. The sun streaming from the window swaths her image in an ethereal light as she begins her prayers. Soon, an older lady comes out of the confessional. The woman in black, stands, crosses herself again, removes her lace handkerchief and enters the dark wooden confessional. The other parishioners wonder about the lady. They wonder what she will tell the Priest this day. Will she confess unkind thoughts and disobedience to her husband or something far more sinister. Like ....wait for it....murrrrrder! Key dramatic music and end of scene. Oh I feel so much better about these confessions. I am the mysterious lady by the way. And for those of you who are new, I am neither Argentinean, Catholic, have a black dress like that, able to walk in high heels, don't own a handkerchief, can't kneel due to knee surgery and my hair is not long enough to form a bun at the nape of my neck. And I think my neck might be to chubby to even HAVE a nape. Okay, I feel like I can really let it all out now.


• I have only eaten Thai and Japanese food for like two weeks. And pickles. These infusions make me so nauseous and yellow curry stew with coconut milk or beef sukiyaki are the only things that sound even remotely good to my digestive parts. It's been expensive and my family has had miso soup and teriyaki chicken like every single night.


• I have started to ask my kids to fetch things for me. I hate and I mean hate when Moms do this. I imagine myself in a double wide sitting on a couch with an afghan like they had on the TV show Roseanne saying things like "junior! JUNIOR! Go on an fetch mama a Dr. Pepper baby. Go on now." And I never want to be that lady. But Katie got the stool the other day and opened the fridge and began climbing for something. I said "Katie, honey, what are you after?" She replied "Mama, I am getting you a fresh and icy cold Diet Coke in the gold can because caffeine isn't good for your head and I know you will enjoy this!" And then before I could say, "hooo doggie" a cold can of DC appeared in my hand. And I thought, this is RAD. And then I got the visual of the lady in the double wide. I am conflicted.


• We told the girls they could have one chocolate chip for each area they cleaned up this morning and to surprise us. We did this because Gray's Anatomy was having a rather racy story line with some sexual dialogue and we wanted the cherubs outta the room. So we heard nothing from them for about 20 minutes then they came jumping in announcing they were done and could we "pause the TV so you can come on our tour!" I grabbed the chocolate chips and Mike and we started on the tour. In the past, they clean up their drawing/art area, bedroom, playroom etc. Today however, they brought us into our bedroom where they had made our king sized bed. "Why thank you very much girls, here is a chocolate chip." Then, we were taken over to our walk in closet. No joke you guys. They had put all of our shoes that were on the floor of the closet away and even hung up some of our clothes. Mike and I sheepishly looked at each other as I doled out the chips but our eyes spoke to each other in harmony. "This freakin rocks!" Mike's eyes said to me. "We should feel guilty for sucking so badly as parents..." my eyes replied. And then we high fived and said out loud "no way, this is too cool for school!" It was as though Santa had sent his out of work elves to our little hamlet this summer and instead of working for cookies and hot chocolate, they were happy to work for one chocolate chip per geographic area. We feel badly enough about what lazy losers we must seem that I included this in confessions but I don't feel all that guilty about it. Right now I would totally be trying to make my case with the Priest.
• Even though I have been nauseous and have been taking Motrin on an empty stomach which could cause things like a stomach bleed and stuff that's bad, the Diet Coke is still flowing in full force. When will the day come when I will be free of the silver/gold can of celestial nectar? Damn you Coca Cola! You made me love you.
• I have been feeling so tired, pukey, tired and weak since the whole infusion thing began that I just have accomplished next to nothing. My hair is greasy and things aren't pretty when it comes to any part of me. And I just don't care. But I should.
• My children are going to have identity/seasonal crisis's (is that a word? I am looking for the plural for crisis...crisi?crisises? I have no idea) Anyway, if they look in their closet or drawers they will be given mixed signals about their age, size and what season it is. There are shirts ranging from 4T to 6. Long sleeves, short it's all there. Because I just haven't had the time to clean everything out and organize it all with current selections. I just keep shoving the bigger clothes into the drawers and hope they figure it out. Same with our shoe box. They are in size 11 and 12 shoes and I think there are a pair of red clogs in there that are size 7. I really suck at this part of parenting.
• When I clean out the girl's ears I stick the Q-tip beyond the part of the ear that they say is safe. Because there are ear boogers in there. Yellow waxy gross ear boogers. Especially in Katie's left ear. Gross. And I just can't leave them in there. Even if you can't see them. I know they are there and I have to get them out. It's not safe and not necessary. If I damage her ear drum you will have the evidence to convict me right here.
• I have been so lazy that I have texted Mike from the bedroom to come in from the family room to talk to me. If you look at the last three texts from me on his phone they are these: "I feel like you aren't even trying to listen to meeeeeee" "Can't you just come in here for a liiiiittttleeeeee?" "Come innnnnnnn" These were sent within ten minutes of each other last night.
• I was glad that Aaron kid got kicked off American Idol. He allowed Big Mike to curl him like a bar with weights on it. I think if you want to be the American Idol and you want people to vote for you that you shouldn't allow the competition to curl you. It doesn't say "winner" if you know what I mean. As long as Crystal or Lee wins I'm cool.
• My relationship with Jake from the Bachelor got to an unhealthy level. I fell in love with him (for realz) on the Bachelorette. I was so excited he was going to be the next Bachelor and was positive he was going to be different than all the other Bachelors and was going to have morals and a backbone and really wanted to find love. But no. He chose that hussy Vienna and broke my heart. Then, he went on Dancing With The Stars and every week I was like "what did I EVER see in you?" He just seemed so fake and gross and such a nerdy sell out. So when he got kicked off I actually got up and did a touchdown dance in my living room including cheers and whooping. Totally unhealthy. I was supposed to break up with my TV this summer but I wasn't strong enough. Especially not with the whole Owen, Christina, Teddy thing heating up. And Dell dying? I watch too much TV. I have no plans to stop.
• I accidentally made my Grammie Bea cry on Mother's Day. She's 90 and lives in Assisted Living. She is the awesomest and I guess I scolded her when I was just trying to mediate a misunderstanding. If you ever want a self esteem boost to feel awesome about yourself...get some iron infusions so you are puking and achy, have it be Mother's Day and scold your Grammie who has Alzheimer's so she cries then try and explain and make it okay and make her cry harder. It is a recipe to feel awesome. It's better than a spa.
• I haven't written thank you notes yet for Katie and Jessica's birthday presents. I swear I will do it. I swear. But in case I don't and you got them something, thank you. They love it.
• Don't even get me started on how my house looks. If cleanliness is next to Godliness I am a stinky demon.
• Actually, I've been reading the Old Testament lately and there's A LOT of infertility in Genesis as well as all through the entire thing and every time a new person who is really righteous is infertile I am like all "ooooo, I rock just like Rachael!!" Instead of learning I am high fiving Hannah and Sara and Elizabeth through the pages. I don't think God had celebratory high fives of my righteousness in mind when He gave these wonderful women these challenges nor do I have anything in common with them except my lady parts don't work. Just because Mike owns a football and can throw it with his arm does not make him just like the Manning brothers. It would be like if Mike threw me a pass and I missed it and he thought he was just like Steve Young because sometimes he threw passes and people missed it. It's so not the same. I need to stop high fiving the women in the scriptures because they are obedient and walking through the desert and stuff and I am having my kids pick up my shoes for payment in chocolate chips. We are not the same!

I feel ever so much better!!! Until next week when I'm sure my sin will be as scarlet and I will need to unload it all again.

To Brag or Not To Brag? A question.

Whenever I have something happy to report, something delightful to my soul that has happened within the blah white colored walls of our abode, I hesitate. The pause I take is enormous and accompanied by sweaty hands and angst. Heartfelt angst. Because so many, and by so many I mean almost all and by almost all I mean all Mommy Blogs run heavy on the whole tooting of the own horn thing that the bragfest seems never ending. Mine included. Did you hear the funny thing Katie said? Did I mention how many lives Mike saved today? Did you guys know Jessica is a freakin genius? It's gross right? And I love the Mom's that are all...I'm not bragging, it's just this blog is my journal and I want to document how cute it was that McKenzie went poo poo for the first time while singing her ABC's and talking to Obama on the cell about the problems in Chechnya. Chechnya. Chechnyaaaaah. (name that movie) Anyhoo, it gets a little bit thick out there. There are only certain blogs of my friends and family that I post over on the side. These blogs are not what I'm referring to. These people don't really brag in that braggy braggerson sort of way you know? They share their lives yes. But they share the good, the beautiful, the embarrassing and the ugly. They are real. Well maybe not all of them. ha ha. Are you wondering if it's you? It's not. Or is IT? wahahahamehaha. (that's an evil laugh)

The whole point of this senseless rambling is I think I am getting to the point in my blogging where it's okay if I feel like bragging one day. It's okay if I want to shout my joy from the rooftops of the Internet. I'm getting more comfortable sharing my successes in life and not just my confessions. Although Friday confessions....? What the HELL happened to you? You are coming back this week. I promise.

So on that note I would like to tell you of the kick-A Mother's Day Mike provided that I got to enjoy this past Sunday. I'm trying out a new nickname for the husband by the by. Mikey, Meeks, Meeker, Miguline and Major Mike Meeker Mormon Missionary have all been tried and seem well old. I'm thinking of using Meek and then a word that describes what I'm describing. Like if we go see Iron Man this weekend I might say Meekdowneyjunior or if we are watching TV (Grays) I might say I watched it sitting next to meekgeeky. Get it? I don't think it's going to catch on. I'll just still call him Mike Meeker like I have since seventh grade.

On to Mother's Day! So Mike Meeker asked me what I wanted for Mother's Day. Since I am iron poor these days I responded in these exact words. "Mike Meeker. Pay Attention. Are you paying attention? Okay. I want one thing only. I want a big thick bone in rib eye steak cooked on the grill, seasoned by me. It needs to be rare to medium rare. MIKE. Quit playing the computer and pay attention. Okay. Steak. Get the butcher to cut it. You don't need to do any vegetables, no potatoes, no salad. Just a big rare steak. Cut the horns off and wipe it's butt and send it in. ( ha ha. I really didn't say that part. ) " But I continued..."Seriously Mike. I don't want anything else. Just a steak. Please, you know how you get ADD and you burn the steak if you try to do vegetables and multiple cuts of meat. Just the steak man." Did he listen? Well. He is awesomer than that. He got the girls up and did breakfast in bed with oven cooked bacon just like I like it. Then he dressed the girls in their fancy dresses and took them to the Meadows so my Grammie Bea would have cards and a visit to go with her flowers I sent her. Then he took the girls to church with his parents so his mom could get cards to go with the flowers I got her. Then he came home and we all took a long nap. Then they got up and he cooked my steak perfectly...along with roasted potatoes and asparagus. Dinner was ready at 9:25 p.m. But it was perfect. Soooooo....that Mike Meeker. He might not be quick and it may take him a long time to get something done but here's the point...he can go all day, he listens to what I want, he exceeds expectations and he delivers it perfectly. If you know what I mean ladies. And in case you don't know what I mean I am referring to Mother's Day. What were you thinking about you dirty dirty dirty girls.

So today, I am bragging about my super star husband who has been being Mr. Mom these days as well as doing his normal job and he still tells me he appreciates me for all I do and am and all I can think is today I took a nap, puked, took some zofran and percocet and took another nap then watched American Idol and went to bed. I'm thinking nobody is worried about whether or not to brag about me or not. You can't brag about a non moving object that sleeps and eats Thai food.

Tomorrow, I will be bragging about what my sister in law Amber did on Mother's Day because I'm sorry it just needs to be shared.

Seacrest Out.

Yesteryear

I remember the Spring of my childhood,
when I was the one in the Easter bonnet.
I liked Now & Laters and Laverne and Shirley.
There was no car to clean out or floor to sweep.
Just tin foil baseball in Grandma and Papa's backyard with Bo.
And my barbies and playing school, always being the teacher.
I should have known pretending to be a grown up was a waste of time.
I'd have plenty of time to be a grown up, why was I in such a hurry?
Now I wish I could pretend to be a kid. I wish I could pretend to be Snow White,
and attend a tea party and eat cookies with pink frosting and sprinkles.
I wish I could watch Strawberry Shortcake and laugh over made up songs about rainbows.
Oh wait a minute...I did all that tonight.
Because I am a mother. I live with five year olds. They are girls.
And life is sweeter this Spring than any Spring of my childhood.
It is good even though it's not sometimes.
I just wanted anyone who cares to know that.

Are You Ready For Some Naughty?

At preschool there is a chair. It's called the ready chair. It's for kids who are being naughty. The girl's teacher gives them a warning and if they continue being naughty they have to sit in the chair until they are "ready" to join the class. Get it?

So. Miss Jessica went her whole three year old and four year old time at preschool with zero sits in the ready chair. All of a sudden she was ready to turn five and it was ready chair visit after ready chair visit. We have heard of marbles being spit at the boys, giggling when told to be quiet, laying on Katie and other children and dancing when it is not time to dance. We have been talking our heads off about following directions and listening and the sort of behavior we used to brag about. We thought she was nervous about Mike going to Afghanistan and we thought his announcement last week would cure our household of the plague of the ready chair. It is not so.

Today, we had another ready chair visit. For dancing when it was not time to dance. And the continuation of said dance when told to please stop.

When we asked Katie if she had to sit in the ready chair (as Jessica was shouting all her reasons and explanations why she shouldn't have had to sit there) Katie said that indeed, she had NOT had to sit in the chair. "Nope. Only Jessica" was the answer we received.

We continued to "talk" to Jessica about all the reasons it was not fair to her teacher to take up class time by being naughty.

We then heard a little voice from across the room where Katie had been playing. "Well see, Miss Hannah ASKED me if I wanted to sit in the ready chair but I said NO THANK YOU."

So basically I have two juvenile delinquents as children when I thought I only had one.