She truly broke my heart today.

Even on the days when she is hollering at me for no explicable reason. When she fights me in the morning as I am putting on her clothes. When I make her go to daycare, when she doesn't want to. I love this little girl. I learned the other day that there is a phrase I say when I drive that I need to watch myself on. I hear her tell me nearly every day that she likes my hair, that she thinks it is very pretty. To which I am always sure to remind her that I admire her hair as much as she does mine. (If she reads this later in life - I want her to know that is not an exaggeration. I nearly fried my hair off with perms trying to make it be as curly as hers is every day. She can confirm with Ninny.) I love this little girl more than words can say.

We go to Smith's grocery store for three reasons. There is not a crazy - holidazed - walmart attached to it, they have decent prices, and they have these awesome little carts. Of course I was dancing to the 80's music they were playing over the PA (another thing I consider a perk) so naturally - she did the same.

Then when we got home, she kept on dancing - even when there was no music.

She is silly and I love her imagination.

For instance, this is the scene where the mermaid barbie and baby duckie meet for the first time and duckie admires barbie's hair.

These nifty implements were among the plas-tastic stocking stuffery toys you can pick up for $1 or under. She got a package of rings, bracelets, and the tiara that came with matching earings. But this little trio cost me more than the $3 pricetag. I have known for a while that she admires Dora's hair. And that she admires one of her friends at school for her hair (which is cut and combed just like Dora's) and that she has been admiring my hair. When we put these things on her she decided she needed her dress. So we put that on her.

She went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. She stared at herself for some time. When I went in to the bathroom she turned around and looked at me with a look in her eye that I had never seen before. She looked at me and said, "now I am a real princess."

I have been avoiding everything Disney princess for exactly this reason. You can't tell your family that. Or, rather, you can tell your family but they send you something with princesses on it anyway. I spend a lot of time telling her she is beautiful. I spend a lot of time making sure she gets to wear the dresses (that I never had an interest in when I was little) and spend the time having tea and playing with her with her toys.

It broke my heart that it took these small shiny pink plastic bobbles to make her feel important, to make her feel pretty, to make her feel loved. So I told her, "this is probably the most important thing I will ever tell you, and I want you to remember it for a very long time. These things do not make you pretty, you make them pretty and you have always been a real princess."

She stroked my cheek. And she just looked at me. I kissed her cheek. She said, "I love you, Queen." I told her, "I love you, Princess."

How do I fight against all things commercial. How do I give my daughter the confidence to know that even with boogers coming out of her nose and dirt from head to toe that she is every bit as beautiful as the little girl she saw in the mirror tonight. That real beauty comes from inside. Just like dancing in the store - she's going to do what I do. So now I am going to do better about showing my inner beauty all the time.

Found Objects

"I am going to need this for my playdough."

It isn't the first time a heart has been carelessly thrown in the gutter. It won't be the last. But we rescued it and Xyla plans to make good use of it.

I don't know quite how to describe today. It was a bit of chaos. Slimming down some stock footage. Duplicating, searching video. Preparing for the big move. (Not me, in case you wondered. I signed the longest lease I have ever heard of.) I impressed two people with my ability to hoist a large box of beta tapes onto my shoulder, haul them to the dumpster, open the dumpster and drop in the tapes without losing the box. Of course if they'd been opening doors and the dumpster . . .

I had to wade through the thick river of emotional footage of people's homecoming surprises and pick out shots that match a specific script. That is the hardest thing for me to do. It exhausts me when other people are terribly emotional. I know how horrible that sounds but when you train yourself to wait for the tear . . . and pack up the gear and head back to air it at 5, 6, 10 and 11. You have to be able to shut it all off. You have to know what makes other people feel those feelings, without feeling them yourself.

There are thousands of stories like that one and if you take the time to get all emotional about it yourself, well, you are going to miss your deadlines and then you won't have a job. I guess that was what made me good at the job - not being emotional enough but knowing what makes others emotional. I say exhausting because it's not like you can get the beginning of the hug and cut then run. You have to stay for the whole hug . . . or kiss. . . or exaggerated for the camera awe-strike. Some people never want to let go. But you have to stay for the follow through. If your anchors don't get choked up a little - you didn't get it all. Enough about that.

Why am I telling you this?

Recently I was awarded an "employee of the month" type award. I really appreciated it. It's a bit of a popularity contest only quality of your work oriented. It comes with a parking spot right next to the door. It is really nice to get to park in the reserved spot because it means that when you come back from lunch - no one has snaked your space. (The people who work across the street are horrible about doing this.) I park in backwards because you can't see around the evening traffic to get out the way I get out unless you are parked backwards. I got in, and pulled forward just a little to indicate to still-standing cross traffic that I would like to cross the line and go the other way. The woman immediately noticed me and made a space in the lane for me to cross. This is two way traffic. I looked right, I looked left, I looked right again and started to cross the lane and got 3/4 of the way into the lane I was going to travel in and someone in a white Toyota was driving the wrong way in the lane. It happens sometimes when people decided that since they aren't exiting the gate that they don't have to wait in line to make the left turn just before the intersection.

Roads wet and black ice in places it is amazing that the person was able to stop just before they hit me, t-bone . . . driver's side. They turned their wheel right (keeping in mind that there is a long line of cars on that side) and narrowly missed three cars on that side by "correcting". I pushed the gas pedal and got the back end of my car out of the way in time for them to slide by the rear of my vehicle.

Then whoever it was kept driving in the wrong lane.

All I kept thinking was, "I have a three-year-old waiting for me. What would her life be like if she never saw me again because this guy had to save five minutes in line. Would he think it was worth the risk then?"

I so desperately wanted to go around the corner and track him down (there are only two places he can go) and ask him that. But remembering the guy who wanted me to get out of my car and fight him because I waved him around me in the drive through lane while I took a few seconds to situate my kids cup in her cup holder before we drove away from the store, I decided there was potential that not seeing my kid again is totally still a possibility at that point, if I make a poor decision. So I drove on to pick up my daughter as always. No way I was going to miss that today. Not when the choice is mine.

As I put Xyla in the car she looked at me and said, "are you happy mommy?" I said, "Yes, Xyla - I am very happy." We got in the car and headed home. She rescues the heart from the gutter. As we are walking inside she says she wants some hot chocolate - with three (holding up four fingers) marshmallows.

Are you happy?

I was holding desperately on to my daughter with one arm that I felt giving way, trying to keep her from reaching over the side of the cart toward the candy aisle at the grocery store. She sits in the big basket because she is getting too big to fit in the seat in the cart.

She usually helps me unload the cart on the belt but lately she has been getting distracted by the hoards of chocolate that sit just within reach if . . . only. . . she could . . . reach . . . one more . . . and that’s when I try to help her realize that the cart is about to roll out from under her and land her square on her head on the floor. I am going to admit that sometimes this comes in the form of yelling. I am never proud of having to scold her in public but sometimes the message has to be fast and forceful and I am sure that to other people it sounds horrible.

She is an adventurous child. She has been trying to free climb the bookcases since before she could walk. Even after she slipped into a pond, she still stood with her toes hanging off the edge of the bank of the lake later the same day. She has no sense of danger most of the time. The only thing that seems to scare her is the Grinch but even then, it is her favorite movie.
I know she is at the age where defiance is normal.

I thought the level of defiance she exhibited at two was relatively mild. She has done really well, until recently. When we moved here I placed her in this daycare. I have been in awe of the way being around other kids her age has helped her with her speaking abilities. Unfortunately, she has picked up some other bad habits. The whining. And this is why the A&SQ frustrates me so much. When she would have difficulty accomplishing some task, it used to be really easy to get her to stop, assess the situation, work out a solution then try it. It used to be really easy. Now she has learned that when you have trouble with something, you are supposed to whine until it magically gets done.

I know why it is so tempting to just reach over and do it yourself. The whining is worse than fingernails on a chalk board. Especially when you can’t do or say anything to get it to stop. I had been lucky, until now, that my kid was responding well to the way we accomplished things. I don’t know how to change it back because I don’t know if she has just hit “that stage” or if she has learned the behavior from the other kids at school. They have decidedly more hours of influence on her than I do in the day.

She is asserting that she wants to do things herself. So I let her. When she wants me to help her with the same things, I help her. She is at the magical age where she doesn’t know if she wants to be a baby or a “little girl” (she insists that she is not a “big girl” because I am a “big girl”.) Most of the things she does that are dangerous or unacceptable (behavior-wise) she is looking to entertain me with them. I am usually NOT amused. But I can tell when she is proud of what she is doing because she will ask, “Are you happy, momma?”

This slays me. Overall, yes, I am happy. I am happy that so many things in my life have improved. I am happy that I am able to provide for my child. I am happy that she is able to communicate with me. I am not happy that she picks up a bag of snack popcorn and dumps the entire contents onto the back seat of my car. I am not happy that she takes the entire contents of her toy box into the living room and dumps them all over, then refuses to help pick them up when she is finished playing with them. (She picks up at school all the time, just refuses to at home.)

I am not happy that I can’t fix one problem without there being three or four more problems waiting for me when I finish that because there is no one to absorb her energy or distract her or . . . or . . . any number of things that would be more positive for her life than me getting frustrated because I don’t get to hold or play with my child because I have to clean up after her constantly at an age where she is capable of helping or at least not causing more chaos. I can’t spend the time I need to, breaking these habits by modeling better behavior because I want to pull out my hair and scream – and yes, whine. I finally understand the Calgon commercials.

That is the lot I have in life though. Balancing those things. Trying to control my frustration so that I don’t damage my child emotionally for life. I don’t get to complain because it is a situation I chose for myself. The harder part that I am having trouble with is trying to explain to the child whose first word was “happy” that there are other emotions, it is ok to feel them and there is a right and wrong way to deal with them. That every person deals with their emotions differently and that the answer is not always to try to make the other person be – happy.

It will be tough to explain also, that what makes her happy is not always what makes other people happy.I think I am doing ok with teaching her this because every once in a while she will cry, for seemingly no reason. I tell her there is nothing to cry over, that whatever just happened is not an event that requires tears. She flatly tells me, “I need to cry”. I forget that. I forget that she is not numb to that emotion like I am, that sometimes other people do need to cry.

I am known for my stoicism. I was asked by my aunt to deliver my grandfather’s eulogy because I am more stoic than she is, and she is also known for being particularly callous. I am proud though that I am teaching my child that she needs to speak up sometimes when she “needs to cry” and ask for what she needs to make herself feel better. Most people get bogged down in life because they don’t know how. That is a skill most people never develop but one I hope she never loses.

Can't take your eyes off 'em. Not even for a second.

I really don't know how to gauge this but I am sure every mom thinks it at one time or another. Is my kid really more energetic than other kids? On one hand I really hope so because it means there isn't something horribly wrong with me. By the way, if I didn't get something done and I promised to, it is likely late because I ran out of run after because of my kid. I would venture to say, however, that my kid could play your kid under the table. In drinking terms that is, my kid could wear your kid out and still have energy for days.

Here, as the big kids were working hard editing the workout video, Xyla managed to find a pile of wood that she relocated from outside and began stacking end to end up the wall. It was tall enough that it was a little precarious. Then Fuzzy suggested it was times like that he really wanted to make the "sculpture" permanent by fastening it to the wall. Then she would always be able to say "see that, I made that." I think we can just take pictures and save the wall.

One second you think they are ready to go somewhere. Then you run into your bedroom to "grab something" you forgot and you come back out and they are sans pants and practically in a whole new outfit ready to fish.

By the time you get them re-dressed for whatever it was you were trying desperately not to be late for, they are insisting that you leave their implements in a very exacting location. If it isn't in it's specific spot they will throw a fit until it is, which means you are going no where fast. Some fights are worth fighting and some are not. Especially if you don't have to look at it until much later in the day.

You can't leave them alone with the computer because if you do there is usually a high magnification that you can't figure out how to fix but you know it is fixable because you've done it at least five other times. Or there are 100 pictures of various funny faces they made in the photobooth function of your Mac. Sometimes you come around the corner and realize they have managed to click their way to things they should never, ever see. Like that there is a Hershey, Penn. And they make Hershey's chocolate there. CHOCOLATE! MOMMY, I WANT CHOCOLATE! (yes, she takes after me.)

Then there are the days when you come out of your room from folding and putting away laundry to find the entire contents of your purse strung across the living room along with the entire contents of her toy box, her closet and she has got a good start on the pantry shelves. Those are the days you want to just go back in your room and close the door and pretend for a few minutes that it never happened. But you realize that your kid is still out there and there is flour in your pantry.

At some point it is ill advised to leave them alone at night too. The evening of this picture I laid next to her as she fell asleep in her room. I got up and went to my room. The next morning the bathroom light was on, there was pee in the potty and this is definitely not where I left her.

I asked one of her teachers if it seemed like she had more energy than the other kids. She said yes and that it spiked in the afternoon right after their naps. Frosty even was a little amazed that she was blasting both engines last week from 8am to 5pm before she finally started getting cranky. (No nap!)


Now everyone knows why I am always exhausted. I talked to one of her other teachers and asked her the same question about Xyla's energy level. She said she doesn't really worry about the energetic kids who will listen and participate when she tells them it is time to settle down and read a story or some other quiet activity. Even though Xyla seems overly energetic to me, that I don't need to worry about ADD.


 I wasn't even worried about that. I just wanted to get some idea of how much activity I needed to get her to burn up some energy so she will go to sleep at night. We got a baseball and mit. Tonight it is supposed to snow. Come on winter I am waiting on you to help me wear this kid out. Anytime you want to find out whose kid has more energy you can bring your kid over and we'll let them play it out. Which ever kid drops first . . . loses. It will be fun for everyone.

A Word about the A&SQ

I knew it was a mistake to say what I said when Xyla first started the daycare center here in UT. I told them that I was concerned about her speech development because I wasn't sure if she could hear properly. And it has been a snowball since then. They give you what is called the Ages and Stages Questionnaire and tell you just to fill it out and bring it back. What ever. The problem is they don't really give you instructions about how to accomplish the thing. What is considered and "almost" what is considered a "yes" what is considered "not yet". Turns out what I was marking not yet should probably have been an almost and some of the things I knew she could do but she wasn't doing them when we were filling out the paper out of obstinance. There are really only about two skills differences between the the 36 month and 42 month questionnaire and 90% of it she could do from 18 months on. Now that I know how to count things and how it gets scored I think this report will be more accurate to her ability. It is the "report card" that I have trouble with. It says she needs to work on "zipping and snapping her pants or jacket". She knows how. She just doesn't like to. Every morning she demands that if she is going to wear a coat that it not be zipped or buttoned. I have seen her zip it up when she gets cold enough and sometimes she asks for my help getting it started but then insists on doing the rest herself. Now is that a sometimes, not yet or yes? I count it as a yes.

The report says that she needs to work on jumping six inches forward using both feet at the same time. I got a note on my door a few days ago threatening to fine me $50 per incident if I didn't get her to stop jumping causing noise ordinance problems for my downstairs neighbor. The kid jumps all the stinking time. We hop from one place to another outside all the time. So I know that is bogus.

It says she needs to work on her problem solving skills such as when a chair is stuck under the table that she needs to move the chair or choose another instead of screaming about it. She has always been pretty good at this but the way I taught her to do it is clearly not what they are teaching. When she gets frustrated with something at home I calm her down and ask her how she could fix it. Usually she can figure it out on her own and facilitate. I suppose I should share that with them but the "cry until it happens" attitude she has now she picked up from the other kids there. She didn't do that at her previous daycares and she only started throwing tantrums at home in the last 3 months.

It says she needs to work on full sentence structure. As an example they write, "I want to play with the ponies, please." She is very responsive to the way people around her talk. The fact that her speech has developed the way it has in three months tells me her delays had to do with the other kids at her previous daycare were all younger than her and didn't speak well. That it really had little to do with her hearing. She was using full sentences when my mom brought her home a few weeks ago and most of the time she uses them at home. Sometimes she gets lazy with it and drops some pronouns but she is using contractions like a champ. For instance she just said, "there's a sticker on your foot." See, complete sentences.

It also says she should work on letter like marks with her crayons or pencils. On this point I am curious. The A&SQ asks you to have the child draw a straight horizontal line, a straight vertical line, a circle and a 't' shape. I thought about it and those are all the shapes that represent letter like marks. Nearly every letter of the alphabet has one or a combination of those shapes. She makes them just fine, the only letters she is interested in drawing are the ones associated with her name. Xyla. Except for the y she does pretty well. She is only three though and she not only knows the difference between a pentagon, hexagon and octagon but she can draw each. She also knows there is a difference between and octopus and a squid - although she does perceive that line to be in the ability to ride a bicycle. The comment that was made today was the concern that she was still holding her crayons with her fist instead of the way you would when writing with a pencil. She has always held writing utensils the way they are supposed to be held since she first picked one up. It wasn't until we got here that she started drawing fist-like. I think that is a habit she has learned by watching the other kids because if you give her a pen she'll hold it right - maybe it's the medium. I don't know.

On the positive reports side it says she can put her jacket on, climbs stairs up and down using alternating feet. Yep, yep, yep. She can string beads, make circles with crayons, do puzzles (20 piece ones and all the A&SQ requires is that the puzzle be 6 pieces), can name body parts when they are pointed to, and follow simple directions. My response to that - yeah, since she was a year and a half.

Now the questionnaire itself. There is one question on there that says when you ask the child their name do they answer with their first and last names? Um, no! Xyla has a hyphenated last name and I really haven't decided how I am going to deal with that just yet so I don't really use her last name or mine in conversation. Everyone we know only calls us by our first name so I wouldn't expect her to use it when referring to herself. How do you score that?

This is the perpetual question though. Do I voice my concerns and risk having my child treated like she is far behind which causes more problems than it solves. They start working to help her do remedial milestones when she should be learning things that challenge her. Or do I keep my mouth shut and hope that if she needs help she will get it. I think I will have to talk with her teacher and let her know that the only part of Xyla's development that I was concerned about was her speech development and that she probably should be evaluated by a professional other than myself (I have no training in childhood development) or her who typically deals with kids on an average level. No, she is not doing what the other kids are doing, because she is past that. I keep trying to look up the A&SQ's for the next several stages but the questionnaires are all very similar, only adding one or two new skills like "can your child server herself" yes, since she started helping me cook in the kitchen when she was just over 2.

I am starting to dislike charts and questionnaires and . . . oh, heaven help us when we get to standardized tests. Even though I don't know a lot about childhood development, I suppose I should trust my instincts a bit more. She is getting more education in her first three years than some people get their whole lives.

I Know Why She Loves Him.

When she wakes him up in the morning, he looks at her like she is the only girl in the world. She knows he is admiring the sassy sway of her red hair as she heads downstairs.

He buys the best foods and feeds her lovingly every morning before he heads off to work. He doesn't judge her for lying around the house all day. He looks genuinely happy to see here every day when he comes home. He runs his fingers gently through her hair and sometimes gives her a sweet, soft kiss right in the spot she appreciates.

He sometimes doesn't realize that she wants his attention when guests are visiting for the evening but all she has to do is brush his hand gently with her body and he reaches out to her and reassures her that he hasn't forgotten about her.

When she needs time to herself he opens the door and lets her take all the time she needs. He is very patient and understanding with her. They have been together for many years. This relationship just works for both of them.

But I could be wrong . . . .

It could be that she thinks he smells like bacon. Finally got Jasmine on camera, but only because she was a bit distracted.

Saturday Download

Ahhhhh! There it is. Winter. Real, fluffy, cold . . . winter. Xyla saw this and said, "SNOW! I LOVE SNOW!" I said, "I know you do." She said, " We go for a walk, NOW!" I told her we should probably get dressed first.

Once I got her to stop long enough to put clothes on her we headed out the door. She went down the stairs and didn't walk on any of the sidewalks that she didn't have to. She was in the snow all the way and more of a run than a walk.

Then she saw random snow sitting on the benches out in the court yard and had to plunge her hands into it . . .

. . . and wipe it all off.

She was somewhat satisfied with the way the snow was sticking and I showed her how to make a snowball. I did not, however, have to show her what you do with a snowball. Apparently that comes automatically and right in the gut if you aren't paying attention.

Then she told me to "stay right there". She ran away from me quite a ways and dropped down and started making a snow angel. She is so good at those. She asked me to help her out (so as not to wreck the angel) then demanded that I make one of my own. So I did. I was rather impressed that I remembered the formula for helping yourself up and out of the angel so as not to break it and then . . .

I turned around and she said, "I am kicking your angel." AWWWWWHHHH! Man. But then . . .

She volunteered to make a new one and told me to kick hers. Now we are even-ish.