Social Gracious

The Tiny Dancer's Mama's Meltdown

 

I got to work this morning early, as is usual on Thursdays, so that I could leave at 430 to make it to Diva's dance class.  Today wasn't any regular day though, it was dance recital picture day.  Even better, I was missing an element of the costume, pink tap shoes, which were sold out all over town.  The solution to this problem is a special can of dance shoe spray paint, which you can purchase for $6.95 to spray paint your otherwise perfectly nice shiny tap shoes, until they drip and are chipped and tacky looking. 

I realized too late, that in my rush to leave in the morning, I had forgotten to grab the makeup bag with blush, lipstick and mascara for Diva.  I know this sounds weird for a five year old, but if you have taken dance pictures you know the drill.  They like for the kids to have a little blush, lipstick and mascara for pictures and recital, otherwise they tend to look washed out with the bright lights and costumes.  I left a message for UberGeek and asked him to dump every last piece of my makeup and brushes into a Ziploc when he ran by home before picking up the kids.  Then I would meet him at the dance studio.

Around lunchtime I drove over to the dance supply store to purchase the paint; while I was there the salesperson also sold me a device guaranteed to make Diva's hair into a perfect bun for $6.95.  This is probably a lesser cost than the five cards of bobby pins and eight cans of hairspray it took last year to make the perfect bun so I bought it.  Then I headed back to the office, found an old pizza box and spray painted the shoes in the hallway on top of the box.  They didn't look great, but passable.  Then the afternoon was a blur of meetings and a last minute user issue before I extricated myself ten minutes behind schedule. 

By the time I met up with UberGeek and the kids in the parking lot of the dance studio, we were behind the eight ball and my anxiety level was rising.  Children were everywhere, perfectly shellacked, groomed and made up, and my child did not even have her costume on.  We put her dress on in the minivan and then I got out the perfect bun device.  Fifteen minutes later and not only was there no bun, but I absolutely could not figure out from the diagram on the card that came with the device, how to replicate what the sales person showed me in the store.  I grabbed Diva by the hand, dragged her toward the dance supply store (conveniently located next to the studio for your spending pleasure, don't you know) and begged them for help.  By then I was near tears, blathering on as to how I couldn't figure it out, the salesperson at the other store promised a perfect bun, why do they have these classes at 5:30, don't they understand that some parents work and how are we supposed to get our kids ready and to a picture session in hair and makeup at 5:30.  Diva remained calm and quiet, thankfully I can't remember her expression because most of the time she was facing away from me while I wrenched and grasped at her hair in vain.

To their credit, both women in the store were helpful and sympathetic, taking Diva and I to a woman who immediately fixed her hair up with the biggest can of Aqua Net I have ever seen and an even bigger smile.  Her hair was perfect and we headed back to the dance studio.  All of the other little girls had on sweet pink blush and a touch of lipstick, some had light color eyeshadow as well.  I didn't have time for eye shadow and UberGeek had somehow missed both the powder and creme blush.  I settled on some lipstick I quickly dug out from the bottom of the Ziploc and a quick coat of mascara.

I chatted with my other mom friends and watched their daughters have pictures taken and all I could think of was that I should have been able to have my daughter ready in time.  My daughter should have had makeup just as beautiful as theirs.  Diva certainly will never know the internal anguish I suffered today; she was oblivious. 

It's not that I don't enjoy having a career, I do.  When my children were infants I worked as a contractor or adjunct faculty at least part time as soon as they were a couple months old. Then I eased back into a salaried part time position and then a salaried full time position.   I've always really enjoyed and received satisfaction from having a rewarding career.  I just wish there was some way to make it easier to juggle having a family and a career at the same time. 

How do you juggle family and career commitments?  What do you think about the new government initiatives encouraging Workplace Flexibility?  Do you ever, or how often do you feel guilty about juggling your family and your career?

The Best Vacation She Ever Had

Last Wednesday, UberGeek's Uncle Ben passed away.  UberGeek is a man of few words; he will only say that at every major event in his life, his high school graduation, his college graduation, his marriage, and his children's birth he received a letter from his Aunt and Uncle.  He doesn't have to say more, for him to say that much I know it made an impact on him.  UberGeek has many wonderful memories of summers and vacations spent together with his Aunts, Uncles and Cousins when he was growing up.

We decided not to go up to Virginia for the funeral since it was almost nine hours away and we had a family reunion only a few weeks later. Thursday, around lunchtime, I received a call from UberGeek, his voice sounded dull, and low, not like himself at all.  He wanted me to know that his uncle's funeral would be Friday and that he was worried about his parents driving so far.  I asked him if it was too late to catch them, if we could drive them up.  "Too late, they left already" he replied.  Then I asked if he wanted to go, "really, there's nothing more important than being there for your dad tomorrow."

"You wouldn't mind?" asked UberGeek.  I wouldn't, so after work we threw some clothes together, tried to get a good night's rest and were out the door at 4:40 AM to head to the Virginia mountains.  The car was stocked with what few meager snacks we had on hand, juice boxes, some water and a Costco pack of animal crackers.  We used the iPhone en route to book an inexpensive hotel in Bristol with ratings that weren't too abysmal.  After a brief stop at a TJMaxx for some khakis for Eddie Haskell, we checked in around 3:30 PM.  Our hotel room can be described with one word, small, but thankfully it was fairly clean.  Then it was a quick shower before we needed to get everyone ready for the funeral service. 

We arrived at the church at 5:30 then stood in the receiving line for probably 45 minutes to speak with Uncle Ben's family.  We had anticipated the kids having questions about the funeral and had done our best to answer all of them beforehand.  When I did my best to go into the explanation of death and heaven, Diva and Eddie basically told me to talk to the hand.  "Mama, we know all this already, this is the same as Jesus dying on the cross and going to heaven, He was dead but not really, He went to heaven.  That's where Uncle Ben is.  Only his body is here; we know all that already."  Mmm, OK, thanks, just trying to help.

Thankfully, they were well behaved and sat through the receiving line, and the service quietly.  We had a chance to visit briefly with family and left around 8:00.  We were quite hungry and drove back toward town to find something to eat, finally settling on a Chilis.  By the time we finished eating, Diva's head was nodding and she let Granddad carry her back to the trusty Subaru.  As she was jostled out toward the parking lot she lifted her head up and said, "This was the best vacation I ever had."

This is a child that has been to Disney World, the beach all summer long, the zoo, museums and most every place.  Had we known, we could have taken her to a family funeral, a cheap Choice hotel and Chili's sooner, to make her dreams come true and saved some money in the process.  It just goes to show you that you never know when you are going to make memories.

Pedicure Stickers for Little Girls

For the Little Diva in Your Life

These little tiny nail art stickers are perfect for the young ladies in your life.  Apply a coat of base coat, a coat or two of polish, then use a toothpick to apply a sticker or two (or 10) as desired to toes (or fingers if allowed).  Then, this step is a must, apply a high quality top coat and let dry.  Your little princess will love the results.  The only issue we had with this was a strong desire to wear open toed shoes when this is not allowed at school.  I suggested perhaps a sock could accidentally work itself off at naptime.  I'm cool like that. 

Other suggestions might be to stock up on them to put in a pedicure gift basket for a little girls birthday.  You could also use them as an activity at a birthday party for girls; a pedicure party sounds fun to me, personally although I'm not sure which of my friends wants to touch my feet.

These stickers can be yours this weekend ONLY for .29 cents!  They usually run a little over $2.00 at Walmart.  Click here for more details.

This comes from the Krazy Coupon Lady, if you haven't visited her site yet you are so missing out.  You can find out how to make the most excellent coupon binder, including free downloadable dividers, print out free coupons and get great deals each week, like this one. 

A Fish Story

About a year ago, we bought two fish for the kiddos.  Like all low rent fish who are not cared for by people who have a certain yen for the care of creatures that dwell in aquariums, they eventually died.  The first to succumb was Diva’s fish, who she named Hannahbelle.  I noticed the lady Hannahbelle floating belly up in the little tank late in the evening, and alerted UberGeek to our plight.  Then I grabbed the little green handled scoop and “fished” her out.  We gave the fish an unceremonial flushing and bid her farewell while she circled the drain.  I told UberGeek I would talk to Diva in the morning about the demise of her fish; that’s not his thing. 

In the morning, as I was showering, a terrible thing happened; Diva woke up and noticed the fish was gone.  She approached UberGeek, and he panicked. UberGeek said the first thing that came to his mind, “Hannahbelle went on vacation!  She wanted to see the world like Nemo.”  UberGeek was thinking to himself that he would replace the ill fated Hannahbelle with a similar fish and save his daughter the heartache.  She would never know the difference, right?

Time went by as it does, grocery lists lengthened, laundry loads hummed, until finally over a year had passed.  The lovely Hannahbelle, despite all the good intentions, was never replaced.  Recently, we were out shopping at Wally World picking up some necessities when the kids begged to pass by the pet supplies area.  As we walked past the tanks Diva began to sniffle, “I miss Hannahbelle, she went on vacation a long, long time ago and she never came back. Daddy, where is Hannahbelle?”

Eddie turned to look at his sister with a very serious look on his face, “Diva, that fish is dead and it’s never coming back!  Fish don’t go on vacation.”

I suppose Santa Claus is next.

Step Away from the Quarters Diva

The kiddos go to a little yellow school not too far from our house. Each Tuesday, we do our best to remember their chapel money.  This is when we scrounge around our pockets, wallets, bureau tops and desks for various silver money to send to school with them as an offering.  Vaguely, I remember that it goes to some sort of charitable endeavor, but mostly it's another thing to cross of the list on Tuesday mornings.

Last week, as you all know, a terrible earthquake struck Haiti and UberGeek and I struggled with what we would tell the kids about it.  We explained that an earthquake had happened to a country not too far from us in Florida, called Haiti, and that many people now did not have a home or food.  Imagine our surprise when Diva and Eddie looked at us like we were the dumbest people they had ever seen.  "Mama, we know where Haiti is; that's where our chapel money goes.  The kids there don't have enough to eat and we send all our chapel money for food and clothes and stuff they need." Um, duh.

Eddie seemed to really reflect on the news of the earthquake, he looked at me and said, "Mama, so now they don't have any house to go to? No food? No toys?"  It was so hard to tell him the truth and yet so important.

We told Diva and Eddie that our family would be sending some money to Haiti to help the people there.  Since the kiddos have change jars stuffed with their allowance, and their money is divided into save/spend/give,  I reminded them that if they wanted to we could go ahead and count out their funds.  They could choose any charity they wanted for their gift, including Haiti.  Both decided that was a good idea.

UberGeek proceeded to count out all of their dough.  They each came out to close to $30 so he rounded them both up to $30.  Then, he did his best to explain the percentages for save/spend/give.  Typically it is 60 save 20 give 20 spend.  UberGeek wanted them to really understand breaking up their money this time and they weren't getting it.  So, he gave them each 10 quarters. 

He asked Eddie, if he had ten quarters how many of those he would keep and how many he would donate.  Eddie pushed forward six quarters.  "Great," said UberGeek, "you will keep six and give four to Haiti?" "No!" Eddie said, "I will give six to Haiti and keep four, Daddy, they don't have any food!"  UberGeek complimented him on his generosity and moved on to Diva.  Diva looked at the shiny silver money and pushed forward two quarters. "Diva!" said UberGeek, "that's very generous, you want to give eight quarters to Haiti and only keep two?" "No, Daddy, don't be silly" she said, "two for Haiti and the rest are for me." UberGeek struggled to keep from laughing then looked at her seriously and reminded Diva that the people in Haiti didn't have anything to eat, or houses to live in.  She gave him a dirty look and pushed forward two more quarters.

Skinny Kids

 
 

This weekend dear friends (dear since they took both of ours plus two of theirs for several hours and still said no to drugs) took our kids to a great city event.  They volunteered for this to help out UberGeek and I, since we would be getting ready for the kiddos fifth birthday party.   Several hours later all the kids returned home exhausted, spent and with a bounty of free loot that included a little paper from one of the local medical centers.  The paper had their current height and weight written on it.  I thanked my friend profusely, tucked the kids in for a nap and put the papers in the drawer for a later date.  Then UberGeek and I frantically continued our birthday party preparations.

Later, after the party was over, all was cleaned up and a sigh of relief was breathed, I dragged out the little papers.  I was curious as to how tall the kiddos were and those growth percentile calculators are readily available online. 

Diva used to be a cute chubby baby, well, not so much chubby as fat.  UberGeek and I fought over who had to carry her, "No, I'm not carrying Jaba, you carry her, I'm taking the skinny one in the carrier." Even her feet were fat, I couldn't fit them in any normal shoes, I had to purchase extra wide baby shoes for the fat pads that crept over the top.  She was a soft, squishy, huggy, happy baby. Then she started walking and it was all over, it became obvious that UberGeek's metabolism genetics had blessedly been passed down to her.  Within six months or so my child became thin.  Now, at five, she is a little taller than average, just over the 79th percentile but only in the 2nd percentile for weight.  So 98 percent of kids her age are heavier than she is.  Thank goodness Osh Kosh and Children's Place make slim pants with adjustable waists. 

Eddie Haskell has always been skinny.  At birth he was just under six pounds, stark white and bruised after having been kicked by his twin sister mercilessly in utero.  He was long and lean, already tall as a baby.  With most babies people comment on how beautiful they are, my mom took one look at him and said "Poor little thing, he just looks like a turtle out of his shell."  It was true, wrinkled and wise, with a furrowed brow he looked up at us as if to say, "Really, could you put me back in for just a couple more weeks? It was my sister who was ready to be born."  He has been around the fifth percentile for weight since birth. 

Once he scaled the heights of the 25th percentile before he started walking, and when I began supplementing breast milk with formula.  As soon as he was mobile it was back to the fifth percentile.  He is warm to the touch most of the time, a little metabolic oven in action, all sharp knees and elbows akimbo.  Eddie looks just like childhood photos of UberGeek, so much so that it tugs on my heart, I wonder if it touches his mother as much as it does me to see how alike they are.  Probably it is more so, since she has all those little boy memories; I only have pictures. I checked his percentiles and he is predictably in the 7th percentile for weight and the 97th for height. 

I used to worry about my kids, afraid that I would take them in for one of those regular check ups and the pediatrician would give me the evil eye.  Instead she asks me if they eat (they do), then she asks me what kinds of foods they eat (all kinds unless in a picky phase) and general questions about their diet and habits. Then she looks at their history and pronounces them sound and healthy.  UberGeek never worries, he just gives me a look, "All those growth charts are skewed now by all the obese kids.  Our kids are fine. We just have skinny kids, at least they don't eat candy."  Subject closed.

Diva Sings the Lady Beyonce

My musical taste runs the gamut, as long as it's not country or heavy metal I like it. I do actually listen to a couple country artists, the Dixie Chicks, who I guess are more crossover than country and Dolly Parton, because who doesn't like Dolly? My Ipod play list is eclectic to say the least. Diva loves music too. She began singing to herself when she was just a tiny baby, rocking against the headboard until she fell fast asleep. With all the talk about autism I worried about her rocking. I brought it up to the pediatrician, despite UberGeek's usual refrain, "Don't worry, she's fine." The pediatrician said that it was actually quite common and not to worry unless there were other symptoms. She also said that children who rock and sing often turn out to be quite musical. 

Now Diva bursts into song at any time of her choosing. Sometimes they are songs she has heard somewhere else, other times she makes them up. She sings grace before meals, sings songs to us all before bed and entertains us with tunes on car rides. She likes all different kinds of music, but most of all, she loves the Lady Beyonce. The first time Diva heard Beyonce's Single Ladies it was love. I had to immediately promise that I would download it to she and her brother's playlist if it wasn't too "adult". After listening to it myself I didn't hear anything obscene or objectionable so I purchased it from Itunes as promised. Our neighbors must really laugh hysterically looking through our picture windows, when we blast it in the living room and Diva, Eddie and I get down with Beyonce and crew. 

This morning I was driving Diva to preschool; it was just the two of us since Eddie Haskell was home sick. She requested Single Ladies for the ride and I cranked it up. The two of us sang our hearts out and added our own arm motions and choreography. I was stopped at a light and I turned my head to the right to see the man in the construction truck next to us laughing his head off and waving at Diva. Then he turned and gave us the thumbs up sign; I give us the thumbs up too.