The Daily Grind

Alarm clock rings.

Fists start beating the bed.

"I can't take it anymore! Every day I have to do the same thing over and over again! I am sick of this! Sick, sick, sick of this! I need a break from all of this!"

Yeah - first grade can be pretty rough.

But it is Friday and Mr. Z can have a break tomorrow.

In the mean time - I think a stiff glass of chocolate milk with his breakfast will help him make through the day.

Note to Self:

When wrapping gifts for a child's birthday be sure to purchase gift wrap so you don't have to use last years Christmas supplies.

Also, get some scotch tape so you won't have to rip of small pieces of packing tape to affix the wrap.

And - keep track of your scissors so you don't have to use dull kitchen shears.

That is all.

Apparently I need to keep my neurosis to myself

When Miss A started kindergarten (2003) she was a incredibly shy. I was ultra worried about her ability to mesh with the other kids and because she did not know anyone in her class I really wanted her to make some cute little friends. Every day after school I would quiz her on who she played with at recess and every day she would give the the exact same answer in her cute scratchy little voice:

"I played with just myself"

My most sweet and beautiful little baby was playing all by herself! I was broken-hearted and haunted by memories of middle school when I felt left out.

One day after school (after two weeks of asking her who she played with at recess and grilling her on social strategies) she burst into tears when I began my line of questioning.

I ached for her - poor little thing - brought to tears by her solitary play at recess...

I told her that it was okay because everyone feels lonely sometimes...

Which is when she said: "It's not lonely at school. Lonely is when you are ALL ALONE. There are lots of kids at recess all the time."

So why was she crying?

Apparently because she was so worried about making ME sad when I vicariously stressed out over the kindergarten social scene.

Lesson learned - and before long Miss A had a cute little friend who lived up the street (and we were 20-somethings living in California at the time so by 'street' I mean row of town houses).

Now that Miss A is 12 she is actually experiencing the real social drama of being in middle school. And guess what?

I am still powerless to do anything.

And all that post-traumatic-middle school-drama is back in full swing.

All I can do is be there for her and give some oh-so-helpful social strategies which are met by theatrical eye-rolls and expressive sighs.

Let me just impart this bit of wisdom that my years of experience and knowledge have helped me to understand:

1. girls are mean
2. boys are dumb

Man, I miss kindergarten!

Apparently I will not have violent mood swings after school starts

This morning I was awakened by the sound of raucous fighting in the kitchen.

What was so important that Mr. N and Mr. Z were near blows?

Cereal Dust.

You know - The dusty remains in the bottom of the box? These powdered fragments of breakfast food are apparently a valuable commodity in this household - one for which both of my boys are willing to draw blood.

I was mildly annoyed (read: trying not to draw blood myself at being wakened over such a trivial thing) until Mr. N magically changed my mood by saying:

"Mom - my ear hurts. Can I have an asspill"?

I have never gone from anger to hilarity in a split second before but I was on the floor laughing with tears running out of my eyes while I choked out:

"You mean an asPIRIN"?

Yeah - that was what he meant.

And I will have a special name for aspirin for the rest of time.

Just like we have a special name for chapstick.

Because Mr. N used to call that.....asskick.

Note to Self:

You must label similarly sized/colored leftovers because if you are not observant in the morning your blueberry/peach smoothie will be a black bean/peach smoothie. And it will be disgusting.

Apparently I need to learn more about Udders

Last spring - the Kindergartners went on a field trip to a Farm. The day of the trip Mr. Z and I were waiting for the bus when.....

Me: Hey Z, are you excited to go to the farm?
Mr. Z: Yes - I am super excited. I have lots of questions for the farmers.
Me: Really? Like what.
Mr. Z: I have lots of questions about udders.
Me: What? Like on a cow? What questions about udders do you have?
Mr.Z: I want to know how come cows have so many tits.
Me: You mean TEATS? They are called TEATS, not tits....
Mr.Z: Oh. Well I am going to ask the farmers about those udders and ti...teats.

(the bus arrives and Mr. Z quickly hugs me and hastens towards the open door)

Me: (yelling) Remember...they are TEATS, like TREATS. Think about TREATS before you ask any questions. TREEEEATS!


I would be embarrassed but how else is the kid going to learn about TEATS? Certainly not by ignoring burning udder questions like the majority of the suburban population.

So the next time you are visiting a farm - try to expand your grasp of essential bovine trivia by asking the farmer about female cow parts.

Remember - there are no stupid questions. Just stupid Mom's (who lack basic udder knowledge) waiting anxiously at home to find out if their offspring will be kicked out of kindergarten for sporting an inappropriate vocabulary.

Apparently I should do a head count each time I get in the car...

Sometimes it is easy to forget things when you are a busy mom of 3.

Like you could forget about your 5th graders DARE graduation...your kids piano lessons...boy scouts...etc.

You could also forget to take your child home with you when you leave the gym.

You could take a shower at home, get dressed, and then - 45 minutes later - you could frantically drive back to the gym barefooted with a towel on your head to retrieve said child.

Now if your past is marred by such an event it is probably not a good idea to use the 'I am leaving now' tactic when trying to hurry a child when it is time to go home from the park.

You know when you say "Well - goodbye, I am leaving now" to an offspring who won't get off the swings? Your plan is not to actually leave the child but to make them THINK that they will be left behind if they don't hurry.

To terrify a child with the threat of abandonment is a perfectly acceptable form of eliciting cooperation - IF - you have not actually left that child somewhere in the first place.

Because if you did leave your child at the gym day care, and his six year old eyes watched you from the window as you climbed into your car and drove away it could cause a significant amount of emotional trauma.

Perhaps the traumatic effects of being abandoned will not manifest themselves at first. Then, several weeks later when you are trying to leave the park and you utter the ill-fated phrase: "Well - goodbye, I am leaving now" you will know the extreme extent of emotional damage that you created in the psyche of the small boy.

Upon hearing your declaration of abandonment and seeing you retreat towards the family car the boy will probably utter a shrill scream and then slump to the ground sobbing.

When you roll your eyes, turn back to physically retrieve him and explain that you would never really leave him anywhere he will look at you with hurt, tear filled eyes and say:

"Maybe I would believe you if you didn't already leave me at the gym. (Sniff-sob). At least at the gym a grown-up was watching me. Nobody will take care of me when you leave me at the park."

And then on the drive home you will have to guiltily address tear-full issues such as:

"I don't think Mom's are supposed to leave kids places"...

"I don't think Drew's Mom ever left him anywhere"...

"I don't think Matthew's Mom ever left him anywhere"...

"I don't think Ben's Mom ever left him anywhere"...

"I don't think Jack's Mom ever left him anywhere"...

And so on...

So - in order to raise kids who will believe that 'Mom-Will-Always-Be-There-For-Me' you really should try your best not to leave them at the gym.

Yeah.