Mardi Gras Girl Scout style

N's Girl Scout troop attended a Mardi Gras dance this past weekend.  They had a blast!

All N wanted to do was bust her moves.  She wasn't interested in eating or doing the crafts.  She was all about "Shaking It Up."

(She was not dancing with headless children

 although my desire to ensure other's privacy makes it appear that way.)

Seeing N dance and dance AND dance made me think of my days in elementary school and made me feel a kinship with my own mother who spent years watching me dance in school talent shows and at the mall and in recitals.

With N turning 8 this weekend, I have become increasingly aware that I remember virtually nothing of her as an infant/toddler.  It is hard for me to connect the girl I see with the baby in pictures.  I am just so used to her as she is today.  I sometimes mourn a bit for that time, for the days when I could hold all of her in my lap and snuggle, as I do with M now.

But there is much to enjoy now, and I try to focus on the delightfulness of that fact.  I try to focus on seeing her have fun as a young elementary-age girl, dancing until she is red in the face and sweaty.

Other kids are irritating

My children are irritating.  Very irritating.  G is, most of the time, the most irritating one of the bunch, but the other two have their moments and sometimes give G a run for his money in the "most challenging" child department.

But I am used to what makes them irritating.  It doesn't make it any less annoying.  It doesn't make me want to bang my head against the wall with any less force.  But there is some comfort in being used to their irritatingness.

I am reminded of this whenever I am around other people's children.  I'm not necessarily suggesting other people's children are more irritating than mine; they are probably only irritating in a different way, but because I am not used to their form of irritation, they seem REALLY, EXTREMELY, HIGHLY irritating.

Being around them makes me thankful for the ways in which my own children drive me nuts.  

I should not get this excited

In addition to my great excitement whenever N or G bring home a Scholastic book order, I also become very animated whenever "I Love to Read Week" rolls around at N's school.

The piece de resistance is the Character Parade, whereby students dress up as a favorite character from a book and march around the school.

This year N decided that she wanted to be Frannie K. Stein.  We purchased purplish hair spray, got some cheap duds at Goodwill, and I discovered I do own eyeliner (which I remembered was used to make N's Character Parade chipmunk whiskers when she was in kindergarten).

Miss N as Frannie K. Stein (2012)

N as Junie B. Jones (2011)

N as a chipmunk (2010)

Preschooler, I'm amazed at the way you....

Act like you don't know squat about how to write your letters and show absolutely no interest in having me show you your letters, and then when someone gives you a Batman marker at the preschool Valentine's Day Party you sit down and do this all by yourself at the kitchen table:

A "G" and an "R" (which you then put eyes, noses and mouths in)

An "A" and an "H"

An "M," an "E" and an "S" 

A "5"and an upside down "T"

Just like most everything, a child will do it when he or she is ready.

And when mommy is not expecting it.

I don't have to do it all

N's elementary school is having their winter festival this weekend.  For weeks we've been getting information about volunteering to work at the festival, sending in goodies for the cake walks, donating 2-liters for the ring toss game, donating items for the class gift baskets.  The festival is a ton of work, and I am forever amazed at the time and energy the festival chair and her helpers give for its success.

I worked the first year N attended school there, when M was a baby, mostly because he was immobile and therefore much less work for D and the grandparents (who have always gone to the festival with us).  Last year and this year, I've donated items.

This go round I donated a game from my gift box stash (N's class has a "Game Night" basket to be auctioned off).  Today I am making 2 cakes for the cake walks.  I already sent in two 2-liter bottles of soda.

Yesterday, a red URGENT sheet was sent home saying more items are needed for the class auction baskets.  Every class and their respective basket themes were listed.  So I called the class mom to see if our class basket really needs something since the sheet was so urgently general.

She said she didn't know, and that I should check with the teacher.

Now having been a teacher, I know that Mrs. B. has far more important  things to do than rummage through donations to see just how floofed out the class auction basket will be.  I am not going to bother her with this.

So I debated whether to go to Target and purchase something else, or whether to sort through my gift box to see if I could find another game to donate.

And I decided to do neither.

Because I already donated.
Because I am not the only parent with children in that class (or in that school).
Because I couldn't get an answer on whether or not something was actually truly needed for N's class basket.

While I think all of these are valid reasons to not go above & beyond, I still feel a little guilty.

Which is stupid.

Oh, and please improve your critical reading skills

Because I'm still feeling mean and nasty, let me also ask that anyone who wants to start stuff about what I write on my blog might be advised to read carefully.

"Not everyone enjoys nursing their children through kindergarten, as you seem to do."


Unless an education reform bill passed of which I am not aware, 28 months old is not the new age level for kindergarten enrollment.  


"Nursing is a very personal choice and does not work for everyone."


While I think nursing is the normal (and best) way to feed, nowhere in this post did I suggest that everyone nurse or engage in extended nursing.  


"To teach your kids to "expect their spouses or themselves" to nurse such as you do is ridiculous. I hope your children are independent enough to make their own decisions about this, not a decision based on what you did or expect from them." 


Lots of people raise their children in a religious persuasion and expect (or hope) that their children follow suit when they grow up.  Lots of people expect their children to go to college.  Lots of people expect their children to marry and have children of their own.  If my children make different choices (as I made different choices from what my parents expected/hoped), I will deal.  But like any parent, I have hopes, expectations and desires.  

"And you wonder why your kids are very slow to potty train and you giggle that it leaves your husband a difficult time when you go out of the house."


My oldest two, neither of whom pooped on the pot until they were 4.5 years old, weaned at 12 months and 14 months, respectively.  Hardly extended nursing in their cases.


And nowhere in my post did I giggle, act amused or in any way suggest I was happy that my husband becomes frustrated when he puts M to bed without nursing.  


Ok, critical reading lesson complete.  

A giant anonymous fuck-you

Whenever someone has been less than nice in their comments, I have tried to be polite and civil in my response to it.  But I'm done with being nice.

So, to you, the anonymous "extended breastfeeding" person and anyone else who wants to be critical of my blog, my life, my choices:

If my blog is so disagreeable to you, THEN STOP READING IT!!  Go find some other blog to read, written by someone far more agreeable to your mindset.

You may find the way I'm raising my children totally inappropriate and ridiculous, but if there is one thing I am teaching my children it is to be respectful and not say anything if they don't have anything nice to say.  They can think whatever the heck they want, but the stop signs at the end of their tongues (or their fingertips if they are in the online world) need to function properly unless someone specifically asks their opinion.

Based on your comments, I feel a little sad for the kind of stuff you are teaching your children about being civil, polite and keeping their opinions to themselves.