Saturday, January 29, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
It was easier before she could talk
I have a firmly decided half ass policy that prevents me from lying to my child about all mythical holiday specters. Let's face it, the idea of an all seeing fat man in a red fur suit breaking into my house to leave me my hearts desire is just creepy. I can't even contemplate the idea of an egg laying bunny meant to usher in both spring and the birth of a savior without getting twitchy.
So I don't lie about it. I don't want to suck the joy out of childhood either. When the first born was little we had an understanding regarding holiday figures. We agreed they weren't real but thought it would great fun to play like they were anyway. We left cookies for Santa and she'd ask me the next morning if the milk had gone warm. She called me one Easter, when her mom and I were practicing life as normal married women, to tell me the Easter Bunny had left tons of eggs. Then she whispered that she knew there was no bunny but that her aunt would give her more chocolate if she pretended. Really, what is more joyful than a seven year old who is willing to lie about the holidays to receive more treats?
Girl child and I have had several close run-ins with the holidays. The first born aligns so close to me that complex ideas like the true nature of Santa can be understood in a few word and without hurt feelings and disappointment. I did not luck out so well with my own genetic offspring. Girl child makes me say it, clearly and painfully and her little face just falls. "There is no Santa. Mommy and Daddy buy the gifts and eat the cookies." Then, depending on her mood she either ignores what I've said and insists she should wait up to see for herself, or she declares that she isn't putting cookies out since mom and dad already know where to find them.
Which brings me to tonight. To a figure nearer and dearer to her heart I think than any other. To the tooth fairy.
She lost her fourth tooth yesterday. She is not quite six. She cut teeth early, which was very loverly since she was nursing at the time. With the second tooth she casually mentioned during the day that she wanted to put it under her pillow. By night she had forgotten. Last night she was just to tired to even think of it. Tonight, after the whole bedtime routine, she came out, all sly grins and nerves. She wanted to try to leave her tooth for the tooth fairy. She asked if she was real. She lives and breathes fairies. I did not want to have this conversation. Then again, I never really do.
I asked her what she thought. She said she didn't know. She looked at me, all soft eyes and hope. I sucked down my self loathing and asked her if she wanted a sweet and fun story or if she wanted the truth. She didn't disappoint. The truth. So I told her. She looked so sad. I pulled her into my lap and asked if she was ok. She nodded. I told her I was sorry, but that I wanted her to know I would always tell her the truth. I told her we could pretend, that pretending was fun. I asked her if she wanted the sweet story. She nodded again.
I told her that if she took good care of her teeth and one fell out clean and cavity free that she could hide it under her pillow for the tooth fairy. That the tooth fairy would leave her a treat as a way to thank her for taking such good care of her teeth. That the tooth would go back to tooth fairy land with the fairy. She smiled as I spoke and she told me that the tooth fairy made houses out of baby teeth. We snuggled for a few minutes and then I asked if she needed anything. She grinned and ducked her head into my chest.
"Will you pretend with me?" Ah, melt. So the tooth is in a little pillow, waiting for me to trade it for a gift. She asked what I was going to leave. I told her she would have to wait until morning to see. In part because I don't know what I'm going to leave yet, but also because it's a way to put back some of the thrill and mystery my honesty has taken out.
Maybe she and I can work this out.
So I don't lie about it. I don't want to suck the joy out of childhood either. When the first born was little we had an understanding regarding holiday figures. We agreed they weren't real but thought it would great fun to play like they were anyway. We left cookies for Santa and she'd ask me the next morning if the milk had gone warm. She called me one Easter, when her mom and I were practicing life as normal married women, to tell me the Easter Bunny had left tons of eggs. Then she whispered that she knew there was no bunny but that her aunt would give her more chocolate if she pretended. Really, what is more joyful than a seven year old who is willing to lie about the holidays to receive more treats?
Girl child and I have had several close run-ins with the holidays. The first born aligns so close to me that complex ideas like the true nature of Santa can be understood in a few word and without hurt feelings and disappointment. I did not luck out so well with my own genetic offspring. Girl child makes me say it, clearly and painfully and her little face just falls. "There is no Santa. Mommy and Daddy buy the gifts and eat the cookies." Then, depending on her mood she either ignores what I've said and insists she should wait up to see for herself, or she declares that she isn't putting cookies out since mom and dad already know where to find them.
Which brings me to tonight. To a figure nearer and dearer to her heart I think than any other. To the tooth fairy.
She lost her fourth tooth yesterday. She is not quite six. She cut teeth early, which was very loverly since she was nursing at the time. With the second tooth she casually mentioned during the day that she wanted to put it under her pillow. By night she had forgotten. Last night she was just to tired to even think of it. Tonight, after the whole bedtime routine, she came out, all sly grins and nerves. She wanted to try to leave her tooth for the tooth fairy. She asked if she was real. She lives and breathes fairies. I did not want to have this conversation. Then again, I never really do.
I asked her what she thought. She said she didn't know. She looked at me, all soft eyes and hope. I sucked down my self loathing and asked her if she wanted a sweet and fun story or if she wanted the truth. She didn't disappoint. The truth. So I told her. She looked so sad. I pulled her into my lap and asked if she was ok. She nodded. I told her I was sorry, but that I wanted her to know I would always tell her the truth. I told her we could pretend, that pretending was fun. I asked her if she wanted the sweet story. She nodded again.
I told her that if she took good care of her teeth and one fell out clean and cavity free that she could hide it under her pillow for the tooth fairy. That the tooth fairy would leave her a treat as a way to thank her for taking such good care of her teeth. That the tooth would go back to tooth fairy land with the fairy. She smiled as I spoke and she told me that the tooth fairy made houses out of baby teeth. We snuggled for a few minutes and then I asked if she needed anything. She grinned and ducked her head into my chest.
"Will you pretend with me?" Ah, melt. So the tooth is in a little pillow, waiting for me to trade it for a gift. She asked what I was going to leave. I told her she would have to wait until morning to see. In part because I don't know what I'm going to leave yet, but also because it's a way to put back some of the thrill and mystery my honesty has taken out.
Maybe she and I can work this out.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
flame... flames... flames on the side of my face, breathing, breath... heaving breaths... heaving...
and i quote.
my mom - "i have to change my will, to put baby girl on it. it's not a lot, maybe 90 thousand. i just want her to have an easier time than you did."
me - "yeah."
really, what else could i say. "hey mom, I know it is your money to do with what you want, but if you are going to leave it to anyone, how about the person you made struggle her whole life, maybe as an apology or something."
i already am providing an 'easier' life for baby girl. she won't have to have a job at 13 just to get clothes or a year book, or money to see a movie. her college will be paid for, her future is fine. because i am not counting on anyone else to do it for me. not some retirement fund, or some man, or my mothers eventual death. i am taking care of it, because as a parent, that is my job.
what is not certain is my retirement, or my ability to pay my house off before then. because I am taking care of my child first. so once again mom, thanks for nothing.
my mom - "i have to change my will, to put baby girl on it. it's not a lot, maybe 90 thousand. i just want her to have an easier time than you did."
me - "yeah."
really, what else could i say. "hey mom, I know it is your money to do with what you want, but if you are going to leave it to anyone, how about the person you made struggle her whole life, maybe as an apology or something."
i already am providing an 'easier' life for baby girl. she won't have to have a job at 13 just to get clothes or a year book, or money to see a movie. her college will be paid for, her future is fine. because i am not counting on anyone else to do it for me. not some retirement fund, or some man, or my mothers eventual death. i am taking care of it, because as a parent, that is my job.
what is not certain is my retirement, or my ability to pay my house off before then. because I am taking care of my child first. so once again mom, thanks for nothing.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
I really have to stop over thinking things.
I went to my moms for Christmas. It was loverly and sweet to be with her. Even though it was awful in so many ways. Like in the sense that her husbands son is a 50 year old malevolent asshole who mutters disrespectful things about my mom just a bit to quietly for his dad to hear. He thinks he loves her, he thinks she is cheating on his dad, he wishes it was with him. He is a foul useless piece and I had to be nice to him. Well tolerate him anyway. I think I got a B. I'm big into grades.
Then we cooked. And argued about what made healthy food. She argues she eats well. She is wrong. She is getting older and she need hip surgery and blah blah. I hate seeing that. It makes me sad, both for her and for me. I am like her. I take care of everyone else but never myself. I am learning to be better. I just wish she would.
Oh, and she has seven spring form pans. 7. Like for cheesecake. SEVEN. It boggles the mind. Two food dehydrators. Three toasters. Seventeen lids for her fourteen pots. Two kitchens. She isn't a professional cook. They are not heirlooms. Only two people live in her house. I have no explanation. The stupid thing is that this house is actually a smaller one than the other one she owns. That one has three kitchens. Too much shit. It is embarrassing. Conspicuous consumption.
So I come home and need to purge. Every nook and cranny. Do I need it, use it, love it? Ugh. Even my tiny little house has too much shit. It's true that I only have the one spring board pan, but I have never used it. In ten years. I can't seem to get rid of it though. Someday I might use it. I MIGHT be the kind of woman who bakes cheesecakes. I MIGHT have that kind of time. I MIGHT be able to have that much junk food in my house. I won't. I know that. It is an ideal. A life I want to have.
I wonder if that is why she has 7. I wonder what kind of life that means she hopes for. Great. Now I'm all sad again. Anyways. I will start blogging again. The remodel is almost done. Pics and posts of that later. Like maybe tomorrow. If I don't suck. Or get drunk.
Then we cooked. And argued about what made healthy food. She argues she eats well. She is wrong. She is getting older and she need hip surgery and blah blah. I hate seeing that. It makes me sad, both for her and for me. I am like her. I take care of everyone else but never myself. I am learning to be better. I just wish she would.
Oh, and she has seven spring form pans. 7. Like for cheesecake. SEVEN. It boggles the mind. Two food dehydrators. Three toasters. Seventeen lids for her fourteen pots. Two kitchens. She isn't a professional cook. They are not heirlooms. Only two people live in her house. I have no explanation. The stupid thing is that this house is actually a smaller one than the other one she owns. That one has three kitchens. Too much shit. It is embarrassing. Conspicuous consumption.
So I come home and need to purge. Every nook and cranny. Do I need it, use it, love it? Ugh. Even my tiny little house has too much shit. It's true that I only have the one spring board pan, but I have never used it. In ten years. I can't seem to get rid of it though. Someday I might use it. I MIGHT be the kind of woman who bakes cheesecakes. I MIGHT have that kind of time. I MIGHT be able to have that much junk food in my house. I won't. I know that. It is an ideal. A life I want to have.
I wonder if that is why she has 7. I wonder what kind of life that means she hopes for. Great. Now I'm all sad again. Anyways. I will start blogging again. The remodel is almost done. Pics and posts of that later. Like maybe tomorrow. If I don't suck. Or get drunk.
Friday, January 14, 2011
politics and religion in a late night IM
hhf - Well, Santa didn't' come for Yule.... Naughty boys and girls. (And I DO mean that.) BUT... looks like he'll come tonight.
Me - lol
hhf - lol The "deal breaker" was when we went to McDonald's so the kids could play while Daddy made a "Santa-run"... And boy child started pitching a fit, DEMANDING to know exactly where he was, what he was doing, and in how many seconds he'd be back.
me - sounds like him
hhf - A phone call was made to the North Pole... Clemency was begged, but Santa was very disappointed....
me - you're a funny pagan
hhf- Yeah, well, once he hit school, Santa was unavoidable.
Me- lol. . i love it
hhf - I didn't tell him about Santa. School did.
me - girl child wants to wait up because she says she needs to know. i told her he was pretend . . . she insists i MAY be wrong
hhf - lol OF course, he wont' come if she's awake...
me - i'm trying to not help her buy into it if i can avoid it
hhf - Yeah, I forget you're a wanna-be-atheist.... lol. I love you anyway.
me - harsh hippie . . . . harsh
hhf - (I want to think I don't believe in intelligent invisible forces.... But somehow part of me does... .But I don't admit it.) Sorry.
me - ASS
hhf - I calls it like I sees it.
me - its cool, i can take it
hhf - Whereas I patently DO believe in intelligent invisible forces, and consider such belief a good thing.
me - as for intelligent invisible forces, lets be explaining the platypus shall we?
hhf - What, you think God made weed but didn't smoke it?
me - ROFL
hhf - (And I never said I took the Christian view of deity, dear. Quite the opposite....)
me - i will be posting this on the blog . . fyi
hhf -~sigh~ I know.... Am I now going to be labeled your "harsh hippie friend"?
me - lol
hhf -Cuz.... I am not hippie...
me - uhh huh
hhf - You miss the part where I took my kids to McDonald's to play? You walk in there, they revoke your hippie-card.
Me - lol
hhf - lol The "deal breaker" was when we went to McDonald's so the kids could play while Daddy made a "Santa-run"... And boy child started pitching a fit, DEMANDING to know exactly where he was, what he was doing, and in how many seconds he'd be back.
me - sounds like him
hhf - A phone call was made to the North Pole... Clemency was begged, but Santa was very disappointed....
me - you're a funny pagan
hhf- Yeah, well, once he hit school, Santa was unavoidable.
Me- lol. . i love it
hhf - I didn't tell him about Santa. School did.
me - girl child wants to wait up because she says she needs to know. i told her he was pretend . . . she insists i MAY be wrong
hhf - lol OF course, he wont' come if she's awake...
me - i'm trying to not help her buy into it if i can avoid it
hhf - Yeah, I forget you're a wanna-be-atheist.... lol. I love you anyway.
me - harsh hippie . . . . harsh
hhf - (I want to think I don't believe in intelligent invisible forces.... But somehow part of me does... .But I don't admit it.) Sorry.
me - ASS
hhf - I calls it like I sees it.
me - its cool, i can take it
hhf - Whereas I patently DO believe in intelligent invisible forces, and consider such belief a good thing.
me - as for intelligent invisible forces, lets be explaining the platypus shall we?
hhf - What, you think God made weed but didn't smoke it?
me - ROFL
hhf - (And I never said I took the Christian view of deity, dear. Quite the opposite....)
me - i will be posting this on the blog . . fyi
hhf -~sigh~ I know.... Am I now going to be labeled your "harsh hippie friend"?
me - lol
hhf -Cuz.... I am not hippie...
me - uhh huh
hhf - You miss the part where I took my kids to McDonald's to play? You walk in there, they revoke your hippie-card.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Why I Am Not Blogging. (this post doesn't count)
1. holidays. family time. vacation from the computer.
2. work. busy season, inventory, employees taking time off. restocking. seasonal display changes.
3. graphic design deadlines. 14 ads that all need my undivided attention.
4. remodel. I have no bathroom, or laundry room. as i type this my freezer and my washer are sitting in the living room behind me. far to stressful but at least this time we hired people. thank god.
5. purge. purge. purge. its a byproduct of going to my moms. i have to get rid of at least 10% off everything i own. she has 6 springboard pans people. 6. for reals.
so i will be back. soon. i hope. . . . miss me.
edit. spelling does count. sad for me
2. work. busy season, inventory, employees taking time off. restocking. seasonal display changes.
3. graphic design deadlines. 14 ads that all need my undivided attention.
4. remodel. I have no bathroom, or laundry room. as i type this my freezer and my washer are sitting in the living room behind me. far to stressful but at least this time we hired people. thank god.
5. purge. purge. purge. its a byproduct of going to my moms. i have to get rid of at least 10% off everything i own. she has 6 springboard pans people. 6. for reals.
so i will be back. soon. i hope. . . . miss me.
edit. spelling does count. sad for me
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