Another One For The Gremlin Files

While many things have occurred over the months that made me want to put pen to paper (fingers to keys?), this was the first that truly begged to be shared...

About a week ago, Andy followed Gremlin into the bathroom first thing in the morning and found a small puddle.  Upon discussion, Grem verified that he'd waited too long and hadn't had enough time to get everything working in the right order.  We remembered allowing him to drink about a half gallon of apple juice at bedtime and pretty much blamed ourselves.  A day or so later, I noticed there was still a faint pee smell in the bathroom so I pulled up the bath mat, changed out all the towels, wiped things down (see? motherhood = glamour!), the usual. 

Mothers of boys, you know this is certainly not the first time one of the men in my life had missed the bowl, however, this odor wouldn't go away.  I remembered an old boyfriend's mom telling me a funny, exasperated story about having to twice replace the baseboard heat next to the toilet in her downstairs bathroom after her four sons had rusted them through.

I started to worry that the liquid had seeped into the bead board on the wall behind the toilet or the wood of the vanity located next to it.  Wonderful.  I was going to have to replace my six year old bathroom because my six year old child urinated all over it.  Coincidence?  I think not.

As it turns out, I don't have to replace my bathroom.  I may replace my younger child.  Again, lucky Andy went into the bathroom after Gremlin and again discovered a small puddle.  Being (sick of hearing me complain) a model husband, he took it upon himself to clean up the puddle and cover half the bathroom in scrubbing bubbles.  As he moved the toilet brush and holder from the corner behind the toilet, he noted that there was a liquid level in the little cup/toilet brush holder thingy. 

Quite the opposite of missing, Gremlin has apparently been perfecting his aim by peeing into the toilet brush holder! Is there no freaking end to this boy's disgustingness??

After things were explained to me and Andy had gently chided Gremlin, I stepped in, a little less calm.  My son, the king of plausible deniability didn't say one word as I shrieked at him "Why would you do such a thing??  What were you thinking???"  On and on I went, ending with "and if you EVER pee anywhere but in a toilet again, I'll make sure you wear diapers until you're 40!"

The bathroom has been sterilized, the offending receptacle has been recycled (what would you have done with it??) and a new brush has been purchased.  As I pulled it from the Target bag, I showed it to Gremlin, with this parting shot: "Could you do me a favor and not pee in this one?".

Wordless Wednesday - How Do You Sleep at Night?

Wrap It in Bacon

Remember that email that went around a few years ago about how to give a cat a pill?  It went on and on with steps including massage cat's throat, remove cat from drapery rod, then apply direct pressure to lacerations.  Then there was "how to give a pill to a dog."  Answer: wrap it in bacon. 

Gremlin has been experiencing some significant constipation issues for about the past month.  Basically, he refuses to poop.  This is different from his usual "I don't have to go - I'm too busy playing" refusal and has now migrated to his school day.  We've instituted mandatory "trying" periods throughout the day and returned to the sitting-on-the-edge-of-the-tub, potty training model.

Friday, while in Target (why do I always get this call when I've got a full cart?), the school nurse calls stating she's got Gremlin in her office doubled over with stomach pains.  I'm on my way but it's going to be a few minutes.  She calls back seconds later asking me to please bring a change of clothes as well.  Awesome.

As I arrive at school and the nurse waves me toward the bathroom where she has left my 5-year-old to clean himself up following his accident.  I find him naked and covered, wiping ineffectually at his body with dry, brown, industrial paper towels.  Thankfully, it didn't seem to be bothering him. 

The pediatrician starts writing before I've finished my first sentence.  Gremlin has encopresis and needs a laxative.  Here's where we get to the bacon part.

We opted to wait until Saturday morning vs. Friday evening to begin the regimen for obvious reasons. Andy and I sat at the kitchen table for in excess of 45 minutes trying to teach, convince, discuss, cajole, explain, threaten, and ultimately bribe Grem to swallow an Exlax pill resembling a blue M&M.

He eventually allows the pill to completely dissolve in his mouth complaining the whole time that it tastes like sand, yet refusing to swallow or take a sip of any of the 6 different beverage selections we have offered him.  Also, he is now the proud owner of SpongeBob Atlantis Squarepantis DS game. 

And all for nothing.  Based on his chosen method of absorption and the complete lack of results, I'm guessing that none of the medicine actually made it to the boy's lower G.I.

This morning, I returned to CVS and going against the advice of the pharmacist Andy spoke with yesterday, got Exlax in chocolate form.  I came home, said "hey Grem, here's some chocolate medicine!"  He ate two pieces and we're done.

Wrap it in bacon.

Put On Your Sunday Clothes...

Dear Gremlin,

I would like to make a date with you every day for the rest of your life to sit on the couch and snuggle and watch WALL-E. 

I know that you're a big boy now; you're in Kindergarten for goodness sakes!  Kindergarten! You sit at the kitchen table and do your homework along side your big brother. We talk a lot about letters and numbers and sounds and words.  You and Daddy played War with cards nearly every night this week.  Since you've been back in school all your learning and thinking and doing has just accelerated. 

And I want to tell you a little secret, when you hold my hand with both of yours and tell me you hate school and you want to stay home with me? A big part of me wants to let you. Even after nearly a month, leaving the playground after drop-off all by myself still feels really strange - and kind of lonely.  You're growing up.  It shows in your struggles and in facing your fears by walking in that door and making new friends and going to gym and music and computers (you're not too crazy about art...).

Then, you and Wall-e sing along to "Put on Your Sunday Clothes" with Cornelius and Barnaby...

Close your eyes and see it glisten, Portabee.
Listen, Portabee!

And you're my baby again.

Nearly Wordless Wednesday

For Christmas, Gremlin received a Fisher Price Power Wheels battery powered Mustang.  He's literally worn the wheels out driving it and Dad needed to order some new ones, which came the other day.

Further confirmation I chose the right person to be my sons' father:

Back to School Reminders - Part 1: Mornings

Dear Boys,

I know it's been a long summer (God knows it's been a long summer) and during that time, some rules have been allowed to slip.  In the interest of smoothly transitioning to the new fall schedule, I felt it would be in everyone's best interest to post a few reminders.

• Each day, you will be required to wake up.  I know you are fully capable of waking up in the predawn hours of summer so it only stands to reason you can also emerge from your bedrooms at a time suitable to complete all morning tasks and still arrive at school on time.

• Speaking of tasks, each morning you will be required to change out of your pajamas and place school-appropriate clothing on your body.  If mom is on top of her game, those clothes will be placed on top of your bureaus.  They include but may not be limited to:

• Pants/Shorts
• Shirt
• Clean underwear (yes, every day)
• Clean socks (see above)

The act of dressing should take place in your rooms. Upstairs. The living room is not an appropriate place to change or casually hang out naked.

• Your parents are legally obligated to provide a breakfast of somewhat healthy, energy-producing, brain-feeding foods.  You are legally obligated to accept one of the two to three breakfast items offered daily.  You may have noticed that your personal preferences lean toward a pretty starch-heavy list.  For the love of God, from time to time, please eat a banana/apple/yogurt!

• Brush your teeth.  You are both old enough to lose teeth.  The replacements are the last set God will ever give you.  Take care of them.  "I brushed them really well last night" is not an acceptable answer.  Also?  Have you smelled your own morning breath?  Seriously.  And Mom can tell the difference between ACT Fluoride Rinse and actual brushed-teeth smell.

• Your hair will be gelled into place for the foreseeable future.  Mom has an irrational fear of lice and her only louse remediation plan involves shaving everyone's head and burning the house down.  Don't make me do it.

• We leave for school at 8:15.  To clarify, at 8:15 am, you are required to get off the couch/floor/table, pick up your backpack from its designated spot in the dining room, walk out the front door, and get into the car.  It's really that simple.

Boys, thank you for your attention and anticipated cooperation.  Once we've had a chance to internalize this list, you can look forward to the next in the continuing series:

II. School Arrival Etiquette (subtitled: stop climbing on your classmates)

III. Post-School Activities (subtitled: it's your homework, I've already completed grammar school)

IV. Baths and Bed (how not to flood the bathroom)

I'm so very proud of both of you and looking forward to a nice, long, fun, school year!

Love you,

Mommy

Alone Again (Un)Naturally

Take Two 

Some long-time readers may remember last year's camp debacle in which Gremlin was moved from the camp group containing about 20 of his closest friends and classmates to a group of strangers, due to a clerical error.  This resulted in tears (for both Gremlin and Manic Mommy) and an abrupt end to a week of pre-paid day camp for Grem.

Being a masochist optimist and figuring the PTSD would surely have lessened by now, I signed both Gremlin and HRH up for a week of camp.  I planned ahead this time to ensure they would (a) be together and (b) be with friends. A few weeks ago, Andy and I began introducing the topic.  The boys would be together!  Annabelle, Jack, Sophia, and Abigail would be with them!  It would be different; it would be fun!  I can't understate Gremlin's enthusiasm strongly (weakly?) enough but he didn't say no.

So.  Today was the day!  We arrive at the Boys and Girls Club. Gremlin nearly needs to be physically removed from the vehicle, but is eventually coerced to exit of his own accord. With Gremlin clutching my hand but still moving under his own power, we arrive at the basketball court meeting area where the kids are divided into groups by age.  HRH joins his group with barely a goodbye. As promised, Grem is with Jack and Sophia! 

I introduce Gremlin and myself to the 12 year old counselor and explain Gremlin's reticence due to last year's fiasco.  She is mildly interested but is thrown off course by a very enthusiastic camper eager to tell her all about his trip to Water Country yesterday; "Everyone there was fat!" He's right of course, fat people are drawn water parks much as flies are to roadkill.  "And there were lots of Mexicans!" Awesome, let's check to make sure the altar boy from the Westboro Baptist Church isn't in our group.  He is not!  Amen!

As the milling becomes more focused, Gremlin realizes I'll be departing soon.  I seize upon a happy, playing Jack (a seasoned camper, our next door neighbor, and Gremlin's closest buddy) and ask him how much fun he has at camp.  Response?  "I hate camp!  Camp is stupid!  Annabelle's friend hit me!"  Totally awesome.  I block Gremlin's ears as Jack's mom quickly pulls him away. 

My knight in shining armor arrives in the form of a 13-ish year old junior counselor who came along asking to be Gremlin's buddy, asked to sit next to him in circle, and knows everything about Star Wars.

Gremlin's two armed death grip around my thigh loosens.  I repeat that I love him and I'll be back. That I wouldn't sign him up if I didn't think he'd have fun.  That all I want is for him to try.  And that if he does try...I'll buy him the Lego X-Wing Fighter...and...I...left...



** Full Disclosure; after I (physically) separated from Gremlin, I spoke to one adult counselor then found the director of the program to go into Gremlin's situation in exquisite detail, going so far as to describe his and his big brother's bathing suits for easy identification.  Then I hid behind a door and watched for a while. I gotta be me.

Happy Mother's Day from the Manic Boys

 Happy Mother's Day to all my wonderful mommy friends and those who do the work of mommies. 


From Gremlin:

My Mommy's:

Name is: CHRISTINE

Favorite thing to do is: KEEP THE FAMILY SAFE (I love this one because it proves he does actually hear me)

Favorite clothes are: HER BEACH CLOTHES (where beach clothes = t-shirt and capris)

Favorite Food is: COUS COUS (Dude, it's ready in FIVE minutes.  What's not to love?)

Favorite place to go is: ON VACATION (ding, ding, ding!  We have a winner!)

Favorite color is: GREEN

Likes if when I: HUG AND KISS HER (Yes, yes she does.  Very much)



From HRH:

This Day In History

1719 - Robinson Crusoe is published

1859 - Ground broken for Suez Canal

1945 - Allies and Russians link up, cutting Germany in two

1990 - Space Shuttle Discovery places Hubble Telescope in orbit

2005 - Gremlin Manic is born

Clear as day, I can see Daddy doing that rhythmic, baby bounce-and-walk, holding you close in the labor and delivery room, speaking softly to you.  That was the first moment I saw you. And I loved you, instantly.  Thanks to an emergency c-section and Dad needing to care for your big brother, you and I had more alone time those first few days than HRH and I did.  I sat on the narrow hospital bed with you on my lap and we checked each other out. 

Between visits from Gram and Nana, from aunties, uncles, and cousins, I played with your fingers and toes. I smiled at you and talked to you for hours on end. I noted the difference in your 6 pound 14 ounce frame to your preemie "big" brother's 5 pounds, 9 ounces. I became frustrated by your lack of nursing cooperation and I noticed how LOUDLY you did everything. From breathing, to snoring, to diapers, you made your presence known.  Daddy and I introduced you to your big brother and our family was complete.

Every night, for the past five years, we've said our God blesses.  Every night, we end our God blesses with "and God bless everyone else we love.  And I...love...you..."

Happy Birthday, my perfect, funny, smart, sensitive, clever, not-so-little Gremlin, I love you.  More every day.

Team Why Mommy's Virtual Science Fair

Three things kind of converged in the last few weeks in a way that confirm my belief that we're all in this together.  My polygamist, gay, boyfriend, Jason is taking part in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure 60 Mile Walk.  He's doing it in memory of his mother and in honor of his brother, who was 11 when their mom died.

The second thing is that I was called back in after a yearly mammogram for a second look at what appears to be a calcification.  I have an appointment with a surgeon next week and look to be headed toward a biopsy.  I'm treating this the same way I've treated an abnormal pap result; I'm "concerned" lower case, not "CONCERNED" all caps.  My mom and my husband inform me they're doing the worrying for me.  I have very good people in my life.

The third is that I received an email from my dear friend, Jean, of Stimeyland.  I will always be grateful to blogging and to the universe for putting a person such as Jean in my path,  She is a good person.  She is smart, funny, caring, enthusiastic, energetic, self-effacing, and did I say wickedly funny?  She is the person you want in your corner.  She's got your back.

To wit: the email explained that a mutual blogging friend, Susan at Toddler Planet was going in for another round of surgery to address, heal, and kick cancer's ass.  Apparently, cancer didn't know who it was dealing with the first time.  Susan is yet another truly good person.  I had the pleasure of meeting her at BlogHer last year in Chicago.  Susan is an astrophysicist and a mommy.  And has cancer.

Jean came up with the brilliant idea of a Virtual Science Fair to show our support for Susan but not for her (rat bastard) cancer.   So here I am, doing what I can on all three fronts of my our battle:

1. I send money, support, and love to Jason.
2. I make appointments and follow-up, and stay positive about my own health
3. I submit my sons' and my science project.  (I hope we get an Honorable Mention)

Absorption Experiment:  

After cutting stems, place white carnations in a cup of water and add food coloring. What will happen?

Mom: What do you think will happen to the flowers?
HRH: The flower part will turn the color of the food coloring.
Gremlin: I don't know.

Mom: How do you think it happens?
HRH: The water will come into the bottom and be sucked up into the flower and by my calculations, you will be able to see that color.


Mom: How long do you think it will take?
HRH: Maybe about a half an hour to three quarters of an hour
Gremlin: Don't know!

Mom: Do you think it will make any difference if the stems are longer or shorter?
HRH: Maybe if the stems are longer, it will take longer to absorb.
Gremlin: You're a fast writer.

Mom: Do you think it will make any difference which colors we use?
HRH: Oh!  My food coloring dropped.
Gremlin: Mom, when can we start?
HRH: Mom, when can we start?

Natives getting restless. Time to move on to the doing:

Start time: 2:59 pm

Beware the dangers of food coloring.

4:17 pm - Change occurring in tips of petals!!

 

9:30 am (18 hrs, 31 minutes)

To Susan, I offer you this lovely bouquet of cheap-ass, $1.00 carnations now filled with all the colors of the rainbow.  I also send strength, healing, prayers, love, and good wishes. We've got your back.

Head over to Stimeyland to check out all the fabulous science-y expressions of love for Susan!

One Day with HRH

Scene 1: Target, near the toy aisle

Unknown child: Yuck. I don't like Star Wars!

HRH (frantically whipping his head around to spot the blasphemer): Oh, it's a girl.


Scene 2: Our house. MM in kitchen. HRH in basement watching Return of the Jedi, playing Marble Mania.

MM: Hey buddy, come on up. It's time to go get Gremlin at school.

HRH: Well, it was good while it lasted...


Scene 3: The car on the way home from fancy dinner out with Mom at Friendly's

HRH: Gremlin, I win! I just farted and we were playing 'whoever farts first wins'.

Gremlin: Whoever makes a fart noise first wins!

HRH and Gremlin (in unison): Pfffft

It's My First Pandemic. Should I Panic Now?

Gremlin is home from school today. He had a pretty good hacking cough for most of the night and was really cranky/sleepy/not himself this morning. Thankfully, no fever. We've already had one (known) case of H1N1 at his preschool but not in his class. This weekend alone, the children of two Facebook friends and the sister of a Bloggy friend were diagnosed with it. My mommy radar was humming LOUD.

Of course there is no vaccine available and we are gratefully un-high risk, so it doesn't look like we'll be getting vaccinated any time soon. So we sit. And wait. And wash our hands. And cough into our elbows.

The thing is that Gremlin is a notorious cougher. If he's going to have the slightest hint of a cold, it will manifest itself as a dry, hacking cough that occurs between the hours of 7:30 pm and 6:30 am. Sometimes it gets pretty croupy (not this time - yet) but come morning, he's usually in reasonably good shape. This is his second year of preschool, his fifth year of exposure to preschool-y germs thanks to his big brother, so I know the drill. I don't panic about sending him to school with a slight cough or runny nose and I don't panic when another kid in his class has the same. If I did, they'd never have gone to school.

This year the rules have changed. I feel like we're all extras in On The Beach. Hanging out, living our lives, knowing the inevitable is coming. We'll continue to be cautious with our own health and of those around us. We'll take our vitamins. We'll hope those who have contracted the illness brave it well. We'll hope for enough vaccine to arrive before we catch it.

Today, our day includes sitting on the couch under a blanket watching Star Wars and enjoying a little one-on-one time. As my friend put it, it's not like he's missing SAT prep. All in all, not a bad way to spend the day.

Career Day

Each school day, we drop off and pick up HRH by walking across a busy street. Always at the cross-walk, nearly always waved on by Gremlin's new best friend, Mary, the crossing guard. She's very pleasant, always smiling, quite efficient; waving on the kids, giving the "one minute" signal to stopped cars, directing others to take the left turn while other drivers wait somewhat patiently for their turn. Her hand gestures are that of a conductor leading a world class orchestra. Gremlin studies her movements. And has found his true calling.

Each day, he watches Mary The Crossing Guard, mimicking her. I think for him, it's a power thing. Like Moses parting The Red Sea. In his mind, he is able to control the ebb and flow of the traffic, the children, the parents with dogs on leashes, time, space, and who knows what else?

There's just that little issue of his size. Each day, as Gremlin takes his daring, nascent steps into World Domination, I'm there; The Human Buzz Kill. "The cars can't see you! Hold my hand! Wait for me! No running! Wave nicely to that car that stopped."

Or y'know, I stop and take a picture...

The Politically Incorrect Post

This morning, while in line in HRH's schoolyard waiting for the teacher, Gremlin noticed something. Something he's not run into before. In his best stage whisper, he screamed said to me "Mommy, that lady has a black thing on her face!" Sure enough the mom directly in front of us had a beauty mark, just a little smaller than a dime, right above her lip.

I tried to play it off cool and informed him "Oh, sweetie, that's a mole. Like the one you have right here," pointing to the tiny pencil dot mole on his clavicle.

"No Mom! That one's a LOT bigger than mine..."

Thankfully, the line began to move and the playground was noisy. I don't know if she heard us as I ushered him away going into my "everyone's different" song and dance. And quite honestly, she had a big ass mole on her face. No harm, no foul.

Not so much with Gremlin's last astute observation:

The boys and I were in Whole Foods when Gremlin noticed a little person who works there. I had seen her before, probably noted it, and not thought much more about it. Grem thought A LOT about it. And he was delighted!

Again in his stage whisper, Gremlin stood not ten feet from her grabbing my shirt to draw my attention and screamed said "Look, Mom! She's so LITTLE!"

Oh. God. There are certain observation situations (unusually overweight people and those in wheelchairs come to mind) that you're semi-prepared to explain and not feel too badly about. This one? Not so much.

Still with the talking, Gremlin has moved onto "She's a grown up! But she's LITTLE! Like me!"

While again singing my "everyone's different" song, I gave the Whole Foods lady an apologetic smile and dragged my boys into another aisle.

With my hand over Gremlin's mouth.

It's Going So Well!

Right now, the boys are happily tired, enjoying a reasonably healthy after-school snack of tortilla chips with salsa (HRH) and hummus (Gremlin) while watching Tom and Jerry. We just got home after spending over an hour in the school playground after school where the boys played baseball, tag, and climbed all over the structure. There were no tears and no yelling. And here's the best part; it's been like this most days for nearly a month!

HRH has adjusted so beautifully to public school first grade! He's one of just 18 kids in his class. His teacher is friendly, open, and informative. Each morning, she personally greets each member of her class by name with a smile and eye contact before ushering them into the building. Each afternoon, she ensures a grown up is truly present before allowing the children to run. In between, it seems that she keeps them engaged and entertained as she goes about their lessons. At the end of our first week of school, a simple little note came home letting the parents know that the kids were adjusting well and finding their way. You know what a whore I am for information and communication.

Getting information from HRH continues to be like drawing blood from a stone, but thanks to some good advice and a lot of pestering on my part, I know who sits at his table, that he plays Star Wars at recess with Aidan and Sean, and that a different teacher pulled him out of class on Day 2 to assess his reading skills.

Gremlin has adjusted remarkably well to five-day preschool. He is in a class with just eight kids, four of whom were with him last year. The teacher (whom I did not know previously) is friendly and warm - and finds my child delightful. In just the few weeks since the start of school, we're spending more time talking about letters and numbers. He's writing his name on everything and eager to do "homework" alongside his big brother.

Mornings continue to be chaotic but there is never a complaint about actually going to school. It's more the mundane tasks (brushing their teeth, brushing their hair, changing their clothes) that continue to create the usual dissent.

I'll take it any day. As Andy recently said, I've never been so happy to be wrong.

Quick Takes Friday

1. The new boiler was installed last week! Woo hoo! In the process of removing the old boiler, they came across about a zillion sugar ants living in a nest under the boiler. I was actually embarrassed for a minute. Like not cleaning under the boiler made me a bad homemaker. Proof that I can be neurotic about anything.

2. The other night, I was walking back from the bathroom in my sleeping t-shirt and caught a glimpse of my physique in the mirror at the end of the hallway. At what I would have thought was the low point, a big chunk small crumb of Pop Tart fell off my shirt. And I started digging...

3. This week, I taken a kick boxing class and a my regular Friday yoga class. As God is my witness, I will never again allow myself to fall this badly out of shape again!

4. Andy recently compared K-Fed to Jabba the Hutt; he's fat, he's rich, and he's got Princess Leah in a metal bikini on a leash. In his heart he can't hate him. He has far exceeded any expectations anyone would have set for his life. And yes, he's joining Celebrity Fit Club.

5. If you link over to the www.kevinfederline.com, there's just a picture placeholder showing him diving into an empty pool and says "official site coming soon".

6. We attended our good friends' wedding this past weekend in Vermont. Completely sober and engaged in polite conversation with the bride's uncle, whom I had never met before, I shifted my weight from one foot to another on a grassy area and collapsed like one of the Twin Towers. Flat on my ass.

7. Last week, while we were waiting for HRH in his school yard playground, Gremlin took it upon himself to leave the school yard, cross the busy street, and wait for us at the car. Even as I ran, I was strangely calm, knowing in my heart that he had gone back to the car. He and the crossing guard, Mary, are now on a first name basis.


Thanks to Conversion Diary for providing an easy re-entry idea for my neglected blog.

Not Wednesday, But Still Nearly Wordless

MM: You're not in trouble. I just want you to tell me the truth.

Gremlin: Annabelle did it.

MM: Annabelle's at school. Try again.

Gremlin: No, they just came and picked her up.

MM: Okay. Now you're in trouble...

By the Wayside

Things you gave up:

Preemie clothes
0-3 months
6-9 months
12 months
2T
3T
4T
(All Ts)
3:00 am feedings
Baby Food
Baby gates
Baby talk
Being burped
Booster seat
Bottles
Bouncy seat
Breastfeeding
Burp cloths
Co-sleeping (most of the time)
Cradle
Crawling
Crib
Diapers
Diaper bag
Eating spaghetti with your hands (most of the time)
Elmo
Exersaucer
Feety pajamas
Glider in your room
Gymini
High chair
Infant car seat
Infant Tylenol
Mashed bananas
Naps (oh...naps)
Onesies
Pack n play
Peek a boo
Pluggies*
Pull ups
Receiving blankets
Reflux
Rice cereal
Riding backward
Teething
Toddler bed
Tummy time
Screeching when you see the cat
Snaps on your pant legs


But always my babies...

What don't your babies do anymore?

Way to Hit a Girl's Self-Esteem

No Mommy. I just want to be with Daddy. You smell like oatmeal.

- Gremlin (06.18.09)

Mommy Fail

A few weeks ago, the boys and I sat down and made a list of SUPER FUN summer activities designed to keep us from killing each other active. Last week was our first full week of summer vacation. I consulted the list, we filled the sandbox, we played outside, we went to the bookstore, we went for walks, we had a playdate, we kept busy. On a scale of 1-10, I'd give it a D-. The weather was eh, the boys were wild, and mommy was impatient.

Following a book store fiasco (Gremlin threw a book across the kids section at me) and a grocery store nightmare (Gremlin screamed from one end of Stop and Shop to the other when I wouldn't purchase a Star Wars Transformer), I decided it must be the transition to both being home all the time. I had previously rejected a week of summer day camp this early in the season but perhaps it was time reconsider. On Friday, I called our local Boys and Girls Club to see if there were any openings for the Kid Squad day camp that three of Gremlin's school friends were attending for the week. Thank the Lord there was! Where. do. I. sign?!

This morning promptly at 9:(02), I dropped Gremlin and all his gear with his name Sharpied inside at the B&G Club. His cubby did not have a name on it, nor was there a little name tag waiting for him as the other kids had. I had also read the wrong info in the brochure and dismissal was at 1:00, not 12:00. So I had to go home and get a lunch. No big deal. We had signed up last-minute and besides, of the 20 kids in the group, at least 10-12 were from our preschool! After a few minutes of clingy/shyness, Gremlin was in his groove and happily said goodbye to me from his spot on the floor, playing with his friend, Jack.

While at home, I got a call from the Club. We were in the wrong class. They had placed him in the Tot-tivities group (ages 2, 3, and 4) not the Kid Squad group (ages 3, 4, and 5), which was, of course, full up. They were in the process of moving him to the other group. Uh-oh. Big deal. We agreed we'd play it by ear and get a prognosis from the teacher at noon, when the younger class is dismissed.

Sure enough, I arrived at noon and Gremlin was playing outside in the sand. The two groups had shared snack time and when they broke up for activities, this new teacher brought Gremlin back with her. As soon as he saw me, he burst into tears. I looked at his face streaked with dried tears and I wanted to cry. The teacher confirmed that he had been crying off and on since "the break up".

Of course he doesn't want to go back - although he would like to if he can be in the class with his friends. I'll call and try again to have them make an exception but hopes are not high. Sigh.

Where's that list again?