Enough Random Thoughts To Make A Blog Post

I don't think I tell you all how awesome you are enough.  Or ever.  Your comments on yesterday's post made me cry.  The fact that you care so much about me, and Michael, and our choices and our success is amazing.  I am constantly told when I go to blog events by PR people how I have the best readers.  How engaged they are and they always come back and comment and CARE.  And you guys?  YOU DO.  I could not have gotten through the madness without you.  Maria, who writes her own incredible story thanked me for sharing this story.  And no, THANK YOU.  For reading.  And caring.  With all the choices every day of who to read and who to care about I never forget that you choose to read me.

Did I just win an Oscar or something?  Ok, moving on.

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So anyway, we leave on vacation tomorrow and there is laundry to do and bags to pack and we are going to the beach for 10 DAYS!!!!!!10 DAYS of choices like beach or pool and beer or wine and I'm going to teach my parents how to make my alcoholic milkshake.  I'm going to eat crabs and read books.  And maybe not on the iPad but an actual book.  LIKE WITH PAPER.  I know, who knew?

So posting will be light because I'M NOT EVEN BRINGING MY LAPTOP.  Now, don't get crazy or anything.  I will have my iPad and my iPhone and Doug will have his ultra inferior non MAC PClike laptop so I could post something if I wanted to.  There may be beach or pool pictures.  We will see.  There will always be Shoe Friday.

I'll probably be on twitter.  I'm always on twitter.  And Words With Friends. 

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I got my haircut.  And it looks totally different.  And no one has said anything about the fact that it looks totally different.  And I think this must mean that it looks completely awful and everyone is afraid to tell me?  Or no one has noticed?  Because why would people notice my hair? 

And no, I'm not posting a picture because I hate all pictures of me automatically.  There are maybe like 2 pictures I have ever seen where I don't like completely awful.  You will just have to see me in person to see the new hair.  Which I may like or hate, I have not decided yet.  I keep waiting for other people's opinions.  Because I am that fickle.

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Have you seen the amazingness that is the new MamaPop?  If not, run, don't walk to the new site.  It is shiny and pretty and Tracey worked her butt off getting it that way.  I just show up and write stuff there.  I take no credit for how the place looks or runs.     

But go.  Say something nice about how pretty it is.  Please?

Success

Sine we informed Michael of the big decision, he likes to remind us constantly that he is a big boy now.  And no matter what it is, "THIS IS THE WAY A BIG BOY DOES IT, MOM!" (Um, can we talk about the fact that he now calls us mom and dad?  My 8 year old nephew calls my sister Mommy, yet I'm mom.  I'm not okay with this.)  Anyway, THIS can be wearing his pants inside out, mismatched socks, or any number of things I've asked him to change.  BUT "THIS IS HOW A BIG BOY DOES IT."

We went out to dinner last night.  A local burger joint opened down the street, organic, grass feed meat and veggie burgers and yummy fries.  I'm glad I ran for 25 minutes yesterday so I could eat fries.  I skipped the milkshakes although Doug and Michael declared them wonderful.  Michael also declared that BIG BOYS DIPPED THEIR FRIES INTO THEIR VANILLA OREO MILKSHAKE.

It sounds disgusting.  It wasn't.

I stayed true to yesterday's promise and made Doug call the director and tell her we were moving him.  I just couldn't do it.  In many ways that school saved us, saved him, and certainly saved me from so much of the heartache last fall.  Did I ever tell you I cried the first time I met with her?  I cried when I told her that his old school thought he had ADHD/ODD/would never read and he was too bright for special ed but could never go to public school and he was such a behavior problem the there were phone calls every day and weekly meetings and we were drowning.  Drowning in worry and despair and he picked his cuticles to the point of an infection so bad the pediatrician yelled at me.  I cried.  I never cry.  Doug cries at everything.  We are a good pair.

I told her all that we had done.  All the evaluations, all the services, and that we had no answers, no diagnosis, NO WHY.  Other than a bad fit preschool and I STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.  She looked at me and said, "you have a 4 year old boy that is hitting.  This is not the end of the world.  You will be ok.  He will be ok.  You are doing too much,  Stop."

And we did.  And we were.

She of course stopped me when I picked Michael up yesterday.  I knew she would.  To tell me that she understood.  That he would be ok.  I told her that I think we need to get him in the system now in case he needs extra help, to get the IEP ball rolling.  She looked at me like I was crazy.

"This child is going to be fine.  This child is fine."

"He is one of our greatest success stories."

No matter what happens next year, I will always remember what that felt like.  That moment. 

Michael.  A success story.

Decisions

"Michael, can we talk to you for a second?" 

This was on Saturday.  A blazing hot Saturday and he and Doug were playing catch in the backyard.  I had just gotten home from getting my haircut, a new place, a recommendation from Amy.  Doug and I had been up late Friday night talking, finally making the decision, and I decided on the drive home I had to tell him, that we had to rip off the band aid.

"Michael next year you are going to go to big boy Kindergarten.  Remember the place you went and saw?  The playground we sometimes play at?  And how some mornings we see kids walking to school?  Well next year you and I we will walk to school together.  And we will get you a rolling backpack and you will go to school with the big kids.  And go to big boy Kindergarten."

"With E?"

"No Honey, E is going to a different school."

"But Michael," Doug said, "this is the school you will go to for the next 6 years (oh please, oh please, oh please) and all the kids in the neighborhood go there.  And K up the street goes there."

And we talked about how "big boy Kindergarten" means he has to try to listen more at school.  Because big boy Kindergarten is a very big deal.  But in the end he just wanted to know if he and Daddy could play again.

So public school.  A complete 180 from the first decision I made.  And I'm not all that surprised.  I think the thing I had been struggling with was that I wanted to change my mind but didn't know how.  I'm wimping out and making Doug call the director.  Because after one conversation with her I will change my mind again.

The thing that really made me make up my mind was a conversation I had with Michael's teacher on Friday, who I love and think is a great teacher.  We were talking, again, about how Michael can't sit at circle time.  And what was running through my head is you either get him to sit or you don't, there is nothing I can do about this problem.  And it occurred to me that if we keep him here for another year I will be having this conversation for another year.  They have no plans to make him sit, they just want me to know he doesn't.  And he will go into first grade not sitting.  And he can't.  He has to learn to play the game, like it or not.

Here is the thing.  If Michael is not "fine", and there is a strong possibility that that is the case, if he needs special services, an IEP, a diagnosis, ANYTHING, I would rather get the ball rolling sooner.  Let's get him in the system and see how he does.  Maybe he will rise to the occasion.  Maybe Kindergarten will be everything he needs and he will learn to sit.  Maybe it won't.  Maybe we will need to go through the IEP process.  I don't know.  But delaying the transition a year was doing nothing other than delaying the transition a year.  And maybe saving me some heartache but costing me a butt load of money.

So in September we will enter public school.  Hopefully he will be fine.  Maybe he won't.  But we will never know if we don't try.

And I promise I won't change my mind again.  I may doubt the decision every step along the way, but I won't change my mind. 

Shoe Friday #83

Marathon Mom sent in these Skechers. And I was able to find them online.  I'm going to try to post links when I can because I get asked a lot to, and this happens to be an affiliate link, only because I found them on endless.com.  Love!

Yesterday, Again

In order to continue my quest to turn this into a happy homemaker blog, (what, would I lose you?), yesterday I baked a crap load of lemon squares for Michael's school bake sale.  From scratch.  Like scratch, scratch.  Not scratch from a mix.  And while I tend to be decent cook baking is not my forte. 

And really?  Bake-sale?  In pre-k?  I thought I didn't have to deal with this PTA nonsense until he started elementary school.  But no, there I was last night baking AND cooking dinner at the same time.  And I was not drinking.  And I managed to complete both tasks successfully.

I'm starting to be a little afraid of myself.  I don't clean and bake and fold laundry and run and go to work all in the same week.  I'm not even sure I do that all in the same month.  I'm turning into this superwoman overachiever and I think I need to sit down and drink some wine and write some posts about Speidi. 

In other news Michael is reading.  Site words and sounding out words.  Doug has developed this whole game with him where he writes out a treasure map and Michael sounds out the words to find the hidden treasure.  He then has to re-write the words to help him with handwriting.  Maybe Doug can take on teachmama? (Just kidding, I adore Amy and read her religiously.)  (It sounds lame but Michael is way into it and he doesn't think writing letters is such a chore.)

Can I now officially say, SUCK IT OLD SCHOOL WHO TOLD ME MY KID WOULD NEVER READ?  No?  Fine, I'm over it.

I ended the night with a Bailey's Irish Cream Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur milk shake.  I totally made this thing up and it is awesome.  And fattening.  But man, I totally deserved it.

Yesterday

I decided yesterday to tackle all those projects I had been putting off forever.  Namely I was going to clean out the playroom and Michael's room.  And by clean out I do not mean clean up.  I mean clean out.  Sort toys.  Get rid of toys.  Donate toys.  Send toys to consignment.  Get rid of crap.

Except this task became herculean.  I have no idea why I thought I could accomplish all of this in one day.  Not even a day.  I started at 10 am and needed to pick Michael up at 3:00.

This is what the playroom looked like when I was mid task.

Yes, I know this child has way TOO MUCH STUFF.  And let me tell you, we did not buy him 2/3 of it.  Probably more than that.  We have very generous relatives.

And the iPad is mine.  My 5 year old does not have his own iPad.  Perhaps that is my line in the sand.  Pandora was the only thing that kept me moving through this process.

As I was sorting toys I had the voices of Toy Story 3 in my head.  Don't donate us, not the attic, not storage, not consignment.  It was driving me crazy.  But in the end I ended up with 6 boxes and bags to go to the consignment store and 3 bags to donate and 2 bags of trash. 

And a playroom that look liked this.

I give it a week before it is a disaster again.  But man it felt good.  

I also cleaned out Michael's room of old books and old toys, and then for a break folded laundry, and made dinner early, because he has a late gymnastics class on Monday nights.  Doug asked me if I was wearing an apron and planned to have a scotch waiting for him when he got home.  He is funny that one.

Tomorrow I tackle the 25 minute run.  For some reason that seems like a picnic. 

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Thank you all for your comments on yesterday's post.  Apparently make up really brings out the commenters!  I can't wait to try all your suggestions.  And no, Doug, I'm not going to try all their suggestions, just some, or most, or maybe all.   

Sell Me On Your Makeup

I have been wearing Bare Escentuals for more than 5 years.  And before that I wore Bobbi Brown.  And for a while I adored Bare Escentuals.  But lately, not so much.  I'm breaking out like a teenager, at 35, and that is not so fun.  And I've decided it is the makeup's fault.  Also, I'm just kind of over it.  I've switched to Benefit but I'm not loving that either.  So I'm doing what everyone does, I'm turning to the internet for advice.

Do you love your makeup?  Why?  Do you hate it?  Why?  Please tell me what to buy.

Here is what you need to know-

• I have very sensitive skin.  And I tend to break out.  I really can't wear makeup that is heavily perfumed.
• My skin is fairly light in color.
• I'd like it to be available at Ulta or Sephora, I tend not to shop at Department Store cosmetic counters.
• Lines I have worn in the past and discarded include, MAC, Bobbi Brown, Bare Escentuals, Benefit, and Clinique (Ok, fine, I'm picky.)
• My foundation has to include a sunscreen because of the Lupus.
• I'm a  girlie, girl.  I like make up, I wear make up everyday, but I don't wear SO MUCH MAKE UP.  I also have a fairly conservative job so I can't wear green and purple eyeshadow and bright red lipstick.  I tend to stick to neutral colors for day and just go darker at night.  I know, I'm boring.  I've heard that somewhere before.

Okay-GO!

(And yes, I have scoured the advice smackdown.)

Shoe Friday #82

Another repeat Shoe Fridayer, Grace.

 

Sick Day, Again and Assorted Ramblings of a Very Tired Mom

Michael's still sick, we are still home.  I thought yesterday afternoon he was on the mend but last night he spiked a high fever that came with a middle of the night wake up call for me.  What happened to 24 hours of the pink stuff and done?  When are we done, strep?  Huh?

So today instead of pj's and movies all he wants to do is play on "his" computer.  Which is fine.  (His computer is actually Doug's old computer).  He is fever less this morning and I'm hoping this is the end and we can go back to school and work tomorrow, please?  Kay?

By now you have probably heard about the demise of DC Metro Moms and Silicon Valley Moms Group as a whole.  It is not my job to speculate the who, what, why and where.  And while I am sad and will miss my friends, I think and hope that there are new, maybe better ventures to come.  (I'm in the process of copying my original posts from there to here.  It is taking a while, but ignore them if they come up in your feed reader.  They are marked as DCMM.  Sorry for any confusion.)

The women who made up the DC Metro Moms became and still are some of my closest blogging friends.  And a special shout out goes out to my fellow founding members.  We were and are the heart and soul of the site.  I will miss you all.

But stay tuned.  I believe there will be an announcement of somewhere else to read soon.

The Best Laid Plans

I was supposed to go out to dinner last night with my girlfriends.  A monthly moms night dinner that is happening less and less.  These are the moms from my mommy group.  They have known me since Michael was 6 weeks old.  I have literally watched their babies grow up, and now the babies are starting kindergarten.  I keep missing the dinner for one reason or another, and while I used to see them weekly, and talk to them daily, the visits have become monthly and the conversations more sporadic.  They have had or are having their second or third babies.  I really wanted to go to dinner.

When I picked Michael up at school yesterday he told me he had read to his teacher all day and his "brain hurt."  At 4:00 he asked me to take a nap. At 6:00 he woke up crying, saying his throat hurt, his stomach hurt, and his head hurt.  And vomiting.  I knew there was no way I was making dinner.  The second dinner I had missed in as many months.    I miss my friends.

We went to our urgent care, which takes appointments.  They were an hour late for our appointment.  We left with a positive strep diagnosis and a prescription for "the pink medicine."  He went to bed still vomiting and 3 hours after his bedtime, and woke up at 3 am still vomiting.  I was up practically the rest of the night.

Michael's school is closed today for a professional day, and I had taken the day off of work, with promises to do something fun.  We were going to spend the whole day together.  I was going to put my phone down, get off the computer.  Really be present, something I'm not always good at.  I had promised to take him to see the new Shrek movie.  He cried when I told him we weren't going and asked if he was"in trouble" or "I was mad at him for throwing up."  The poor, sick kid.

I explained that it was because he was sick.  Instead, we are spending the day like this.

Lately I haven't been able to stop thinking about how big and grown up Michael has become.  Today he just looks like my poor sick baby.