Wednesday, September 19, 2012

I'm old. Boo!

I've always looked really young for my age.  Always.  Nobody as ever accurately guessed how old I am and its always pretty comical to watch people's reaction when I tell them that not only am I not 14- I'm actually married with three kids.  One of the funnier examples that happened was when I was in the NICU with Easton and it took of one the doctors a couple of days to realize I was his Mother NOT his older sister.  Ha!  Actually made me laugh on a pretty dark day.  Thank you crazy doctor:)

This has always been a blessing and a curse.  When I was younger, I didn't feel like people took me seriously and it was annoying.  Now, I would do anything short of selling my kids to keep the youthful look.  Imagine my surprise last year when this happened:  I am laying in bed several months into my 5 month bed rest journey with Easton.  Matt comes up to keep me company and says "You've got to stop worrying so much- you are getting crows feet."  Yes.  This happened.  That gem of a husband whom we all thought was smarter than to say that to not only his wife but his pregnant wife, really made that statement.  I did not hit him and in retrospect, I really should have.  He realized pretty quickly that probably wasn't his finest move.  Anyways...  It started my new obsession with searching for lines on my face and  damnit, they are there!   Not only are they there but now I have a minivan too so I'm like super not cool and old lady status.  Before anyone forms too quick of an opinion... I obviously know there are bigger issues and problems in the world and I actually have them under my roof.  However, this is still a problem in my book and I plan on dealing with it.  Somehow, someway and with relative quickness.

What is a girl to do?  The gym/fitness part I've got down.  If there is one thing I can promise you, its that my body is not going down with my face! I happen to have control over that one.   On the night of my 30th birthday which I spent in the hospital while pregnant with Easton (thank you, son) I ordered several anti-aging cleaners, creams, eye shmutz, and whatever else Nordstrom had to offer.  I figured there was no better time than that milestone day to get started.  I've used the stuff for over a year and guess what... I don't look any better.  This morning I was scrolling through FaceBook and saw a post from Dermatologist, Dr. Michelle Legacy, "Be sure to ask your dermatologist about what anti-aging creams can and cannot do. If a cream could really prevent aging, do you think it would be available over the counter at Macy's or Target??"  Ugh.  Duped again.  Why didn't I think of that?!  Seriously.  Like a cream from Target is going to save my face.  I mean, Target can definitely save my mood but my face...probably not so much.  I'm such a sucker.  Next, I check my email and have an invitation to an interactive  beauty event to take a journey through a fountain of youth.  OK, Universe!  Stop with the hints.  I get it.  I'm getting old.  I mean, come on.  So, yes.  I'll be attending that night and of course I'll be early because only the first 50 guests get the gift bag which apparently I need since this message is coming through loud and clear.   

A lot of people are against fighting the aging process.  They say to age naturally and gracefully and beautifully.  I am not one of those people.  Those people probably sleep uninterrupted at night.   While I do not intend to get my face completely frozen in time and become unrecognizable, I am so not against helping stall the process with whatever is necessary to do so.  I feel I can still age gracefully with the help of a little modern day assistance.  It's been a good run of looking young... now I'm going to fight to keep it:)

**No, I am not off to the plastic surgeon this afternoon:)  If anyone does have some miracle cream, call me!

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

The BIG day.

 I'm usually a few days...or months behind on my posts about big events but I had to do this one now.  My brain is on overload, my OCD is outta control, my ADD is kickin' and whatever else I have self diagnosed myself with is flared up.  I'm a hot mess.  This was quite the day.  I don't even know where to begin but I've get to get this out of my head and put these thoughts somewhere where I can see them.  The house is quiet.  Matt took Easton to his sleep study, Paige and Carter are in bed and I have a Diet Coke and all the time I need to spill my guts.  Here we go.
How does this.....
...become this SO quickly.


I learned a lesson today.  You can only do so much to prepare yourself for this day.  I know its only Kindergarten but it is the first big thing he has done on his own.  Yes, he has done Preschool and PreK but I've been fortunate enough to take him to work with me for those so I was still able to kiss every boo boo and hug him whenever I wanted.  I was always in the know.  I had a hand in everything he did.  Kindergarten is a whole new story.  I know nothing.  I met the teacher for 5 seconds, one time.  I've been in the classroom one time.  I don't know how any of it works.  I don't understand how he made it from the bus to class and back to the bus.  I was worried about who would help him buy hot lunch and if he would eat it when and if he got it.  At 7PM the night before school I was at the store buying him a new pencil box because at the last minute I didn't like that the glue didn't quite fit in that box and I wanted it to close perfectly so there was no frustration.  I made sure to set the new spiderman water bottle right next to the new monogramed batman backpack because I didn't want to forget it...as if my OCD would ever allow such a thing.  We read The Kissing Hand, sprinkled our fairy dust under the pillow, said our prayers and had him asleep by 8:10PM.   I stayed up most of the night thinking about details I couldn't control and imagined a million different scenarios playing out in my head of his first day.  How he acted, what he said, who he played with, etc.  All you can do is hope that you have done a good enough job up to this point to let them spread their wings and take the challenge, the next step, give them independence and trust they will be ok.  Easier said than done.
The morning was great.  He was a little hyper but really just excited to get on that bus!
 
 


Matt and I met the bus at the school and waited in the pouring rain just to make sure he got off and into the building.  Of course, he figured it out and we stood in awe of it all.  I headed to work and kept myself busy but ran home on my lunch to upload my pictures so I could have a better look at them!  He looked just as adorable as I remembered that morning.  I could hardly wait for 4:00 to come so I could meet that bus and find out how it went!  Walking home from the bus stop he told me he had chocolate milk with lunch, that his teacher looked really pretty in her purple dress and that they had two snacks and one was super close to lunch which was "weird."  Sounded like a great first day to me:)


Exactly what I hoped to see after the first day!
Looks like a happy boy!
So the day was perfect.  Until I opened that backpack.  I should have known it was too good to be true.  Inside was a blue folder that marks daily behavior with a color system.  His little owl was circled in blue.  I immediatly start praying that blue is good.  Turns out, blue is not so good:(  It means "Think about it" or something like that.  Lets just say 7 colors on this chart and blue is third from the bottom.  My heart sunk.  How could this be?  We did everything right to prepare him.  We made sure he was organized with all his stuff, we have talked about Kindergarten for months, we quiz him on sight words and make him do workbooks- for God's sake what else could we do?!?  This is where my lesson was learned.  YOU CANNOT CONTROL EVERYTHING.  It doesn't matter how much you prepare or how many of the right things you do- its up to them to execute.  We had a long talk and after initially insisting that his teacher had the wrong kid and a threat to call and ask her about the "mix-up," the truth came out.  Apparently he kicked someone.  Really?  This can't be for real.  Carter may be hyper and bouncy and chatty and like to say words like "Booty," but kick someone... NEVER.  Evidently it happened on the rug and he doesn't know the kids name or why this went down.  (By the way, I'm practically dying at this point of interrogation.)  Regardless, we had to address this but without taking away all of the positives he had in the day.  Kicking is not, never has been, nor will ever be tolerated in my house or at school.  That point is clear.  If I can promise you one thing- its that he wont kick anyone tomorrow.  However, there are no promises as to anything else that may or may not happen in Room B.   We drilled home all the rules (of life) that he already knows.  Matt attempted to go over the color chart thingy but Carter already had that puppy memorized.  We set up an incentive that if he gets the top three colors for three days he gets a new Ninja Turtle so in other words, the stakes are pretty high over here.  Tomorrow is a new day.  We are hoping for Red but will gladly take Orange or Yellow;)  And yes, I emailed the teacher letting her know we don't take this lightly and assure her that we are all over it.  Yes, I'm crazy.  Regardless of everything, I am most proud of one thing:  Carter got on that bus and went to a school where he doesn't know anyone and had all the confidence in the world.  He never thought twice or doubted the fact that he could do it.  That makes me super proud.  We must have done something right, somewhere.  Maybe by the time our next kid goes off to school we will manage to incorporate the subject of not kicking into our rules of life.  Lets hope.