Party Time photo challenge

linking up with The Paper Mama

Things I've learned this week.

Going to the park in the winter is the bomb. It's much less crowded and I don't have to worry about clothes clinging to me, nor do I sweat. It's a beautiful thing.

Plus I get to see this face and listen to her ask me to swing her higher and higher.

She's become quite the swing lover. She's come a long way from less than a year ago when she absolutely hated the swings. She still loves sliding, but man oh man is the swing the place to be.

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Not rinsing the conditioner out of my hair makes my hair less big and less flyaway. I like that. A lot. I also am really liking the color lately. It's getting super silver, but you know what? I think it looks pretty badass.

Also, I'm very tired lately. Does it show? I know I look bored in this photo- I'm at work, what I can say? - but I'm just so dang tired all the time. I'm lucky the little chica is OK with chilling out when we get home for the day cuz I'm not sure what I would do if she was like one of them kids that is non-stop action all the time.

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Just cuz this winter hasn't been cold enough or snowy enough, doesn't mean we can't still build snowmen.

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For the first time in like 20 years (probably definitely more than that), I want to go to the beach. I'm looking forward to going to the beach.

It must be cuz I'm Fierce and (will be) Forty! ; )

oh womanhood

Katrina and I watched some movie on the fancy VCR her family had, ate pizza and popcorn and candy before going to sleep in our sleeping bags on their living room floor. The next morning when I was in the bathroom peeing I looked down and saw blood in my undies. Instantly, my heart started beating fast and it dawned on me that I shouldn’t have cut the hair that was on me- down there- the night before. I panicked. I wiped myself and there was more blood. I started to cry as I was sure I was dying. All because I used the scissors I found behind the mirror to cut the hair down there. I sat there wondering what would happen to Katrina and her family once mine found out what happened and that I was dead.

I sat there on their toilet, crying, until I heard a knock on the door.

“How many pieces do you want?”

“What?!”

“How many pieces of bread do you want?” Katrina asked again. “For the toast. For the Nutella.” Yeah we were badass and well ahead of our time eating Nutella on toast for breakfast.

I asked her to come in to the bathroom and cried to her that I was dying. She saw the blood and told me she’d be right back.

“Christina, honey, are you OK?” Katrina’s step-mom sang through the closed door of the bathroom.

I finally allowed her to come in and she gave me a new pair of my cousin’s underwear to put on along with this thick, fluffy, white sticky thing that she put on the underwear where the blood was.

“You have your period,” she told me. “Hasn’t anyone told you about getting your period yet?”

She must’ve known by the look on my face and the tears in my eyes that the answer was a big fat No and proceeded to tell me that I was getting older and changing into a woman and getting my period and growing boobs (I was already wearing a regular bra by then- at age 10) was all a part of it.

She showed me where she kept the “pads” (which my mom always told me were “pads of paper” when I asked about similar ones that sat below the ceiling atop the shelf in our bathroom at home… and at that moment it finally made sense why she never let me use those “pads of paper” to write and draw on), and told me to take the one in my undies off after a while, roll it into a ball and into some toilet paper and throw it in the garbage, and use a new pad until there was no more blood… in about a WEEK.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t until I was with that same cousin, 20-some YEARS later, that I finally used a tampon for the first time (yes, I didn’t start using tampons till I was in my early 30s- LIFE-CHANGING EVENT!!), too.

Oh the joys of womanhood. (And holy hell I'm now realizing I've had my period now for nearly 30 years!!!!!)

1.) Last week we covered your Top 10 Life Stories…this week choose one and share all the details.

PYHO: blech

I actually had something else planned (in my head) to write about for today's PYHO. It's been a while since I've participated and the original thing I planned was super fitting for the reason behind my lack of participation with PYHO- I just don't care much these days. But. I'll have to save that for another PYHO because I have something else to pour out of my head and heart. Something that's been bugging me for a month straight: I'm becoming quite hateful of preschool drop offs these days.

 

For the past two years (come March), Lovie and I have been going to school in the mornings bright and early: around 630 when the center opens.. Lovie was one of a small handful of kids to arrive that early. We would go in, the teachers would dote on Lovie, we'd chat about this and that- sometimes it even was relating to kids. The other few kids would all gather around Lovie before she could walk and then once she could walk, they'd all play together despite the fact that most were older. There wasn't ever much of a battle with dropping her off. She liked going to school.

Now... the past month especially... it's all changed. And very drastically.

And it's kind of pissing me off, to be frank.

This morning, for example, I made sure to be there at 630 on the nose so that she'd be one of the first ones there because I suspect that's why she's been freaking the F out this past month at drop offs. Because lately, there's like a dozen flippin kids there when we get there. At 630-645am. That's a lot of kids when it used to be 3 or 4 TOPS. And I swear to god most of them are all related and huddle together and stare when you walk in the room. And who likes to be stared at?

But this morning was no different than it's been for a month now. At 630 on the dot, there was already a good dozen kids already in the drop off room. Ugh.

Since realizing this is probably the reason why Lovie's been hating drop offs lately, I've been trying my best to ensure that she not know I'm irritated by it all as well. I try to stay upbeat and smiley and fun. We walk in and I say to the all the staring eyes, "Good morning!" They stare back. Lovie starts to whine and clutches onto me. I tell her how much I love her and that I'll see her after snack time like always. She starts to cry. The teacher comes over trying to coax her with cheerios or sitting at the big table. Lovie starts to scream as she reaches for me while the space between us grows. My heart breaks a little. Beady eyes all around. I force a smile, saying "I love you" as a I blow kisses as I exit the room. Her hands and arms reach for me as the tears flood her face and her scream echos inside my head all the way into work.

It sucks ass.

I know she's fine once she gets to go off into her room. But it just sucks ass that for a half hour every morning, she's got to be miserable.

I could bring her in later but then that takes away our time together that we have because it will mean working later and worse traffic which eats at our free time. And color me selfish, I enjoy being with my kid as much as possible.

Ugh, I have a headache thinking of all this.

friendship

When third grade ended and school let out for the summer, I met my one and only best friend on the way home. We were both carrying bags full of junk collected from the school year and we both ended up crossing the street at the same time. Jennifer Manson* was a grade higher than me and lived a couple blocks away from me. We walked home together that day- I walked her home and then ran home to dump my bag of stuff and change out of my school uniform (Catholic school) before running back over to her house to play. 

Lovie and her BFF

Jennifer Manson and I became fast friends. Best friends. We spent all summer together and were inseparable; I even went on vacation with her and her family.  It was the best summer of my life: We were 8 and 9 years old, it was summertime, we didn’t have school, we could hang out all day and play- life was wonderful!

When school started again in September and Jennifer went on to 5^th grade while I started 4^th, we still remained best friends and still remained inseparable outside of school. I was even at her house that Fall late afternoon when my mom called- something she had never done before.  It was the night my world changed, when I was told to say goodbye to my dad while we packed the car up with brown paper grocery store bags full of our personal belongings and drove out to my grandparents’ house for a couple weeks.

Despite being miles apart for a couple weeks, despite my parents making me change schools (from private to public), despite the complete meltdown of my family and home life, Jennifer and I still remained best friends. In fact, she and her family really helped make me feel normal and loved in a time when my whole world had been rocked to its core.

But then, less than a year after my parents split, Jennifer and her family moved away. And so did our friendship.

We’d like you to explore friendship. You can talk about a current friendship or one from your past, a friend you met over kindergarten snacks or happy hour at your first job. Examine your emotional interest in the friendship and the role it plays, or played, in your life.
The word limit for this prompt is 400 words. While that may not seem like many words to devote to a friend you’ve known for thirty years, try to provide us with a snapshot that encompasses your feelings about the friendship.

*fake name

January favorite

linking up with The Paper Mama photo challenge

wanna pork?

haha don't you just love this card? I'm quite tempted to order it for my husband. What for? 

VALENTINE'S DAY!!

It's right around the corner, in case you forgot.

But then I saw this one and I know he would get a good chuckle out of it. Ack, I dunno! Tiny Prints has so many Valentine Cards to choose from! It's gonna be tough. And while we don't generally celebrate V-day, we do now that we have Lovie.

I thought that one would be cute for Lovie. But again, there are so many Valentines Day Greeting Cards to choose from!

I need to figure this out soon, that's for sure... only 17 days to go!

Check them out for yourself: 

And follow them along on the Twitter, Pinterest, and like them on Facebook!

pictures don't really match the words but whatever.

a pink princess dress. on my kid. it makes her happy so yeah, a pink princess dress on my kid. :)

A week after Lovie turned 2, she started flipping out during drop off at daycare in the morning. Just like that. Every morning for 8 straight school days, she flipped out when I dropped her off: arching back, screaming, crying with tears flooding her face, body flopped to the floor when not arched back.

When I would pick her up from school, she was fine. She was Lovie.

pink jeggings. on my kid. they're adorable and they were gifted so yeah. pink jeggings on my kid! :D

But the next morning, it was back to the screaming and crying and unhappy child.

The pediatrician had warned us that the Terrible Two's brought out a lot of independence but a lot of neediness, too... but this was crazy to me. I mean, all of a sudden, just like that things were going to be different?! And there was nothing I could but keep on trucking?

I started to dread school mornings. I didn't want to be the one to wake her. I contemplated changing hours at work to see if it was that she wasn't getting enough rest because I couldn't imagine putting her to bed any earlier (than 7- the bedtime she's had forever) and she wasn't acting out in this manner on the weekends when she could wake up on her own.

bathtime from the other night

Then last week happened. Monday we were both off for MLK day and everything was fine- though by the end of the day she had a fever. She stayed home Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday because she was still feverish (except for Thursday). Friday when I dropped her off, I was terrified.  But she was OK. She whined a minute and latched onto my leg but was OK: no freakout.

And all this week? FINE! This morning, in fact, she ran into her room and leaped into her teacher's arms.

from last night: she had to have her hand constantly on me at all times as we sat watching Nick Jr.

Dudes, it's so good to have my sweet girl back. I mean, of course she has her moments (she threw her hugest tantrums last Thursday and Friday both- I'm talking screaming and crying for an hour practically {or so it seemed}- so it's not like I'm trying to say she's perfect), but for the most part this kid is unbelievably awesome, and *I* get to be her Mama. 

I'm so blessed. Even during those rough days (with more to come, I'm sure), I'm so immensely blessed.

fierce

So I did it.

I sent my BFF an email telling her I was choosing her to do something fabulous this year... the year we both turn... FORTY.

I'm thinking a weekend in NYC or Chicago or Vegas.

Just her and I.

No men, no kids.

A swanky, overpriced hotel with a ridiculously nice spa package.

Eating good food.

Drinking good booze.

Laughing.

Crying.

Laughing.

Clinking our glasses to the past.

Raising them super high toward the future.

We're already fierce, but now we're gonna be...

 FORTY and FIERCE.

Look out!

top 10 Life Stories

* As a little, I apparently hated playing with dolls and wearing dresses. I know this cuz my mama always marvels over how my Lovie adores her baby dolls and how sweet she is with them.

* I was a thumb sucker for a very long time.

* Play-doh was an absolute favorite of mine to play with- and eat.

* I puked any time I was in the back seat of a moving car for more than 20 minutes. Every single time. We took a lot of car rides when I was a kid and my siblings insisted they squish me into the back seat of the car despite the fact that each and every time, I would puke my guts out. Every time. My brother made a lot of blueberry pancakes when I was kid. Ask me how I remember this.

* I’ve told this story before but when I was 6 I slammed my hand thru a window to get my sister’s attention so that I could find out if we had to go to gymnastics or not.

* Puberty hit me very early on and when I was 10, I noticed hair. Down there. So I cut it. The next day I woke up and there was blood in my undies. I thought it was because I cut my hair too much or something and nearly had a heart attack. I was at my cousin’s house at the time so I called her into the bathroom to show her I was dying. She called in her step mom and it turns out I had gotten my period for the first time.

* I became a huge Prince fan when Purple Rain came out. I loved listening to the cassette over and over and over again. I especially loved the song Darling Nikki. One day when I was listening to the song on my Walkman, I asked my mom what “masturbating” meant. She refused to look at me and refused to answer me, urging me to “look it up.” I did look it up in the dictionary and still couldn’t figure out what it meant. I was like 11.

* I ran away from home when I was around 10. Really, it was my brother and I who ran away and we were running away from my grandparents’ house to our home.  We actually had help from some of my sister’s friends who lived near my grandparents, but we all made a pact to never tell anyone that they were involved (they let us hide out in their place and watch TV all day while we were “walking home” and then drove us to about a mile away from home that night). The police got called, my dad got called (this was right after my parents split so involving my dad was a bigger thing than involving the cops).  The next day, my mother drove us right back over to my grandparents’.

* I used to go to professional soccer games nearly every weekend they had Home games. I spent hours during the week making confetti from newspaper. I knew all the players names and positions. I even used one of those plastic horns that always sent darting eyeballs in my direction.

* After a Bryan Adams concert years and years ago, we waited in the rain for an autograph- and got one! I became completely star struck when I saw him and couldn’t say one word. Instead, after he signed our stuff, we all hopped into my 1969 VW Bug and chased him down the highway (he was being driven in a white van), into the city, and to the hotel he was staying at. And that’s where the story ends. Just like that.

3.) You know the stories that are retold a million times at family gatherings? I call them Life Stories that you just never live down. List your Top 10 Life Stories. Example here.