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November 5, 2005
First things first, I'm reeling in, typing up and loading up recipes all week. If you have any to share, please do!
While I’m strapped for a spare moment and keeping in mind that it’s an entry in a diary for my kids to treasure one day, the last post had nothing to it but details worthy of a big, fat yawn.
When you ask a woman to describe what’s wrong with her car, she will make the noises (at least that’s what I did this morning).
When you ask a man to describe the wedding dress he will say it was big. And white!
When you ask me to describe cooking club, you will be bored to tears. What? You wouldn’t have asked? Touche!
Brandan brought home a fantastic report card with fabulously glowing comments and 1’s in French even. We stood tall and proud, so confidant this boy would go on to save the world....and then we followed that up with a week of attitude. No word of a lie, I ran out of privileges to take away. Try as I might to figure out what it boiled down to, his stubbornness? That he’s a first born child? That he has his own agenda and that we cramp it? I nailed down nothing. I’m trying to push the positive, Brandan, it made me so-so-so happy to see you do X, or when you did X, did you do a good job or what? When I need him to really get what I’m saying, say Shelley’s taking him on a picnic and he could, WILL run wild, I put my nose to his and lay down the law. Listen to the rules or I will string you by your ears. Brandan still believes if I look deep in his eyes (with my most intense squint), I see truth so he always, always comes clean. Now Kaillan wouldlie without a blink.
We took Kaillan and Brandan indoor rock climbing. It’s my new favourite sport even if I have clammy hands so I have to work harder to not slip. Brandan flew up like a monkey, with his skinny little arms and legs, up 45 feet in the air. Every wall Kaillan wanted to try but as soon as they knotted her up and brought her to it, she’d back out. Little by little she got closer to going, you could actually feel her fear and her want duelling it out and then when it was time to for us to leave, she bit the bullet and went up ten feet. Now she’s asking every other day when we’re going back. It’s fantastic for the bum, if you have the kind of bum that needs it.
Kaillan is a sweetheart. There, I documented it. It’s been a while now, she’s been so mellow and caring and adorable AND CUTE, and I wanted to get it officially out there. Kaillan has a strong character in that she’s extremely stubborn and passionate and she’s fiercely loyal and sensitive. Though those first two months were HELL, day care ended up bringing out a world of difference in her. She’s quiet and shy there but interested and accommodating. In my last parent teacher interview they told me she’s a very clever girl and I can see how she picks up things easily. We bought a massive laminated map of the world as big as our kitchen table and we’re having Brandan teach her the countries, they’re so cute when they’re at it, she gets them easily. I guess it just comes down to what side of their brain works best, huh? We took the training wheels off Brandan’s two-wheeler when he turned three, his control was fantastic. Kaillan just figured out how to ride the bike with training wheels and she’ll be four next month, but she knew her ABCs and could even recognize some of them before she was two. I could count on my hands the number of words Emmie uses but she never misses a beat.
Emmie’s my little love-bug. Two, sometimes three nights a week, I go to the gym and then there’s four of us who meet there for a good power walk-gab session right after. Though she’s in her crib, she waits till I come back and as soon as the door opens and the alarm does its meep-meep, she calls Mamma in about fifteen different ways. I sneak up the stairs into her dark room and as she scrambles to her feet, she says the cutest, casual, “hi Mama”. Then I haul her onto the bed in her room for pillow talk. We fake sleep together and honest to God, she laughs till she cries. It’s the giggles and peekaboos and cuddles - when years ago I ran a poll to determine whether we should go for a third or not, THIS is what all those people were talking about. Number three is amazingly special.
I watched Emmie in her highchair a couple weeks ago, holding her spoon so appropriately while feeding herself yogurt and was hit with the inevitable heaviness in that she’s not a baby anymore. Sure she still wears diapers but she’s starting to pee in a potty. She doesn’t talk a lot but she understands everything and she can reason and negotiate and tattletale. I’m only 32 or 33, I can’t remember. 32. Young enough to have another one. I considered what it would cost our family. We want to go on great family vacations, send them to private schools, let them participate in whatever activities they want. Having another one would change everything. Or would it? Would our quality of life be less because we couldn’t do everything or wait a minute, would another baby would make our family richer? In considering pregnancy, especially mine given the mucked up uterus, dangerous blood pressure, it’s a long, scary road. And then the work and sleep deprivation of a new baby and the crazy worry, egad, the worry. I have three awesome, healthy kids, what are the odds everything would be ok for another? We’re very over our heads with what we have. Both Brandan and Kaillan said they would like a baby brother, in the same flippant way they asked me to get Scooby Doo juicy fruits. Sad as it might feel, for today, for right now, nope, it’s not going to happen.
HEY!!!! UCHENNA AND JOYCE WON!!!! I was so unbelievable happy. I actually cried. It wasn’t just about how they played the game, that they were decent and good to the other teammates or that they’re going to use the money to make their dream of a baby come true, it’s that she SHAVED HER HAIR OFF. For that alone, they should double the prize.
I’m trying to think of a cutsie story to wrap this up with and while I know there’s a whack of them, I’m drawing a blank. At work, I was sitting with a highly respected, widely recognised, brilliant colleague, going over a file, when in walked another colleague. I would describe him as expressive or emotional but since you guys don’t actually know him, I can lay it straight. He’s explosive. Extremely accomplished in his own right, but a true character. Now we’re heavy into our transitional arrangement, when he walked in wild about the section he works in because NEVER in HIS LIFE has he worked with such incompetents and they’re all *%&$#* idiots, etc., etc. . He’s new to our strait-laced organization. And it wasn’t the scene he was creating that did me in or the part where the man beside me who wears a suit and tie ever single day of his life, watched the show with such sincere NOTHING on his face, it’s that the entire time the wild one was running his skit, he itched himself. Under the arm, inside his shirt between the buttons, across his stomach, on his arm, again and again. His eyes were wide and blazing and he was loud and itching himself like a monkey. I started with a giggle. So I dropped to my file. When the second giggle slipped out, I lost it. I sounded worse than a monkey and there was nothing, absolutely NOTHING I could do to save myself or explain.
I will be the death of me.
I hope it doesn’t happen too quick, I’m on a role in here.
Allisun
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