Evaluation control

So mid life crisis…..Kinda makes you evaluate and re-evaluate yourself a lot.  There are days where I feel great. There are days that I feel like crap. Most days I am somewhere in between vacillating between happy and pissed, excited and full of dread.  I look around myself constantly thankful for what I have but wanting more and wondering just what will happen next. I wonder how will I make a buck, how will I continue on this path with some sense of contentment. Do I need antidepressants and is anyone truly happy? Is there anything in this life that isn’t some kind of a let down? Is the only thing truly perfect the softness of my children’s cheeks and how they make me feel when I kiss them?  I question my mothering skills, I question my ability to lose weight, I question my ability to be anything more then I am right now- a mom, a wife, an advocate for my kids and husband, a homemaker and caretaker. A numbers cruncher, laundry folder who can make a dado joint and a good goose.

This week I had the flu. A disaster. Oliver is on spring break, Lulu is not. My house looks like a bomb hit it and now that I am on a fraction of the cymbalta that I was on, my obsessive need for clean is showing its shiny head. I can’t relax because I am aware that the house looks like crap. I want to throw everything away so that I don’t have to deal with it at all. I didn’t even make my bed today and I have thought about it about 200 times. Well, not 200 but maybe 3.

I made myself fresh matzo ball soup because one I like is too expensive to buy every day. I can’t make matzo balls. I am seriously questioning my Jewish heritage because my matzo balls could double as door stops.. Nothing like the light and fluffy ones I pay too much money for.  But I do make good broth. I can give myself thumbs up for that.

I feel behind the eight ball. Oliver is on break and I refuse to rest while he watches TV.  It is also sunny and beautiful outside and I am not at all worried about radiation in the air. I want my son outside playing. So that means I have to be outside playing too.  I am not being a martyr- I am just not wanting Oliver to spend his break with the Bubble Guppies or Ultraman.

So evaluating and re-evaluating.  It is a constant thing.  It just seems like a never ending quest to figure out the “right” thing to do. It isn’t like there is a right or wrong thing here. Whatever happens happens but trying to figure out how to take things in stride and to be okay with decisions.  This is where being a Buddhist or Taoist would be a helpful.  

A winning lottery ticket wouldn't be so bad either....

a moment

Occasionally,  I go through a period of time where everything feels wrong. no matter what. No matter what I put on I feel fat, my hair looks bad and somehow the day is sculpted and formed based on these negative perceptions. Then you feel like people don't like you and you have this weird feeling you have tricked the people who DO like you into liking you and you always over cook the meat even if its cooked perfectly.  Everything just feels wrong.
Then sometimes and, unfortunately, somewhat rarely, things feel right.  You have a moment where your child makes you smile and you really feel that smile in your heart.  Suddenly, you don't give a shit that your roots are 2" long and that there is twice as much grey- make that 3 times as much grey as you remember there being a week ago.  It doesn't matter that the floor needs to be mopped or that I still haven't settled on a contractor for the garage. What matters is that the air smells good, my child is hugging me and I feel happy. I feel good about myself and don't worry about those out there who may not like me because I love the ones I have that do like me. and I am pretty sure I didn't trick them.  Fat. Yeah.... that is still a minus but isn't a chain wrapped around my ankle puling me into an abyss or anything.  You have a moment of perfection and then that moment stretches into an hour because your other child also hugs you and says something heartbreakingly sweet. There is no screaming- just smiles and happy chatter. That hour turns into longer as you realize that as you sit typing in Starbucks, while Lulu is karate chopping upstairs, that you are smiling ear to ear. For no particular reason.

Aged conversation

Today, I treated myself to some soup at a cafe that I really like. Because I was alone, naturally I eavesdropped.  At the table next to me, an elderly lady of somewhere between 75-80 was having lunch with a friend. She was rather spry for her age- I always used to imagine pushing 80 and being all wrinkly wearing a diaper or something. My mom is going to be 70 this year and she seems so young. I remember as a kid I thought 32 was old old old. That was how old I was going to be in the year 2000. I can't even remember what I thought the world would be like.
Anyway, I was eavesdropping on the lady and was enjoying very much listening to how much she hates getting friended on Facebook and why do people recommend things to you? Especially those who you didn't even want to be friends with. She bitched for a while about it and all the while I am thinking "damn, granny is so in the now"- watch she probably designs web pages in her spare time. Or apps.
Next she goes on to tell her friend about Weigh Watchers and describes the point system etc. It dawns on me that I could be eavesdropping on a conversation I might have with  a friend.
When do we actually "get old?" or is it we just get outdated and our bodies basically deteriorate?
Lately age has started to take on a different look to me. I detest the physical aging- since Christmas I have been given the gift of abundant grey/white hair growing all around my hairline and I am kinda freaked out about it. Sure, I have had lots of non dishwater blonde/ mousey brown hair growing but wham, so much all of a sudden. And the wrinkles. My forehead is starting to look like a topographical map. I can get all arty about it and say it's a map of the landscape of my life. Where is my barf bag? Aging seems so much more external- people seem to stay pretty much the same underneath it all.

Apparently our conversations don't change that much. We probably just get wiser until the senility sets in and then we just forget what the hell were were talking about anyway because how important IS it to go on about Facebook and Weight Watchers anyway? Whether we are young or old it seems we talk about the same stuff.  Things probably just take on different meaning as we get older. Granny probably didn't like the recommendations because she knows what she likes and doesn't need anyone telling her. Except that sounds strangely like Lulu. But at 75 or 80 (or maybe she was 65 but never wore sunscreen?) maybe we have gotten set in our ways.
Regardless the reasons, it all made me laugh.

Taking a bite outta math

A few days ago, Lulu was sent to the vice principals office for biting someone. Jeezus...I am raising a dog.  I went in and spoke to the vice principal yesterday after school because somehow it didn't seem important to call me to let me know that Lulu had been in to to see her.  I don't know about you but if my daughter is reprimanded by the vice principal, I think I should be notified right away.  She was busy and "hadn't gotten around to it." And better yet, Lulu was told that if it happens again,  not only will she be suspended but she will be inputted into the system as a "Known Biter" Great. I'm going to have to get her a muzzle and start serving her fava beans with Chianti. Hannibel Higginson. awesome.  Lulu doesn't even know what "suspended" means.  The way it was relayed to me from Lulu was that she could be "dispended" and this after I was told about the meeting from the mom of the kid that got bit. 

Lulu is really frustrated and not very happy at school. She actually says things like "I hope I am sick so I don't have to go to school." She is 7. SEVEN. What a bright educational future she has! I am so afraid she is going to hate school. Right now her homework consists of a bunch of busy work.  She always complains about there being too much math. What is funny is she is actually good at math.
I spoke with the vice principal at length about everything and walked away thinking she is pointless. The only thing that the school/district/state thinks that kids need to learn is how to read, write and do arithmetic. Such a crock of shit. That doesn't make them well rounded people. I don't know how to make this right in my head. And Oliver will be entering the system next year! The No Child Left Behind program.  How about every child left behind and we don't care?  Getting a little ranty....

Today I went and picked up an application for another school- It is an alternative school that isn't so test score driven. I'm getting a tour on the 28th and I can't wait! The downside is that there are so few spots available. Our chances are slim. I am going to try to be optimistic and hope for the best. Keep the adrenaline high from yesterday's hike up the steepest stairs in the west.  I am feeling like I am keeping a good momentum going in the spirit of change.  Hopefully I will be able to make some changes for my kids that will keep them happy and full of curiosity and wonder.

Treading Happily Along

Sometimes you have good days, EVEN during a midlife crisis. Amazing isn't it?
Yesterday I got an email from Yelp giving me tips of good outdoor places to walk in Los Angeles. In the spirit of trying new things and in an attempt to put myself before cleaning the house, after I dropped off the kids I went straight to a little known place called the Baldwin Hills Outlook for a walk up some stairs. Now those were some serious stairs.  It was a climb of 715 feet up 281 stairs, which I amazingly enough didn't count as I went up which is curious as I have a pension for counting things- like when I slice something I count as I slice, or on small flights of stairs I will count as I climb- I sometimes even count when I brush my teeth- which in and of itself sounds psycho because it actually serves no purpose other then to busy my mind.  What made these stairs even more incredible was the size of the riser on each one- some of them had to be up to 16" high-
Serious workout.
I am really out of shape so this was sort of a funny thing for me to do.  I am always up for a challenge, however, and happily began my hike to get to the stairs themselves.  I was going at a decent clip up the mountainside thinking to myself- "So easy! I am in better shape then I ever imagined!"  About a minute and a half later I am struggling to breathe and I haven't even gotten to the steps which are about 5 minutes up the steep path.. When I get to the steps I look up. Seriously it was a real look UP. I have never seen anything like it. This place has been dubbed the great wall of Culver City. These stairs are literally built into the mountain side and go at a strikingly vertical angle.  As far as building codes go these are NOT to code. They were definitely not at one foot per 12 feet incline. These stairs are some serious shit.  It isn't Wudung Mountain in China, but I felt that there must be some sort of enlightenment at the top and this was about as close as I was going to get to it. How cool would it be to really go there?

It was a beautiful day and the wild flowers are JUST starting to show their little happy faces.  The hillside, or should I say mountainside, was covered in Euphorbia. You hear about native plants but sometimes it just seems like the only place to get these so called "natives" is at a nursery.  Here the $8 a pot plants were growing EVERYWHERE. It took all my self control to not pick a few little ones to bring home with me.  I kept thinking "just one or two...no one would even notice" but if everyone did it then....well there would be no flowers there.But damn they'd look good in my garden.
I managed to wheeze myself to the top with a couple of breaks.  At the top there is a 360 degree view of pretty much everything- the ocean, downtown, the Hollywood sign.  It made me realize how big and small LA is. Standing up there at the top I put my arms in the air and embraced the world. All I needed was "Eye of the Tiger" streaming from some mystery place up there.  Yeah, I was the crazy lady standing up on the top of the mountain pretending to be at the top of the world- I might have looked a little more normal had I made an attempt to tame my hair which was particularly curly and out of control- nothing like impending rain to make the locks loco.  But I was happy so who the fuck cares right?
The idea of stomping my way down the stairs made my spine hurt just thinking about it. Going up a 10-16" riser is a helluva lot different then going down it. I opted for the mile hike down a steep and winding trail.
Another thing I loved about these stairs was that it was populated with real people. I was so thrilled to not be doing stairs with Barbie and her best friends Porsche and Madison. The famous Fourth street stairs of Santa Monica is definitely not where a frumpy mom going through a midlife crisis wants to hang out. I was very happy here with the real folks and I did feel a little enlightened, I guess...or just really winded.  I am excited to go back and see what flowers will bloom in the coming months. A really nice time to be there.

On this hikey walky exercise jaunt, I managed to earn some "weight watcher points"(6) and I was delighted to spend them on a yogurt/granola parfait at a little french cafe that I passed on my way to the stairs.  With a name like L'Epicerie how could I NOT go in and check it out? This place was my second great find of the day. It was also a market and sold french cheeses, bread, misc. food items and wine which was oddly, mostly domestic. I was excited to see that I could buy my daughter a $14 canister of Banania, her favorite beverage that has the most politically incorrect container ever.  $14 is a little steep for chocolate milk but if I can spend the same on a bottle of wine then I should be able to spend it on her drink of choice. Gotta be fair.

So a great morning it was.  I am actually going to make an attempt to do these stairs again on Saturday morning early early before my Weight Watchers weigh in. Lets see how sore I am tomorrow! eeks. Midlife crisis can be a good thing. Today was good. I took care of myself.

The Prince of Asia

Today I took the kids to the Natural History Museum to see dinosaurs.  After an afternoon at bone gazing and question answering we were HUNGRY.  Being on Weight Watchers and being really hungry is not a good combo- the general rules seem to go out the window as you decide that it is a great idea to drive over to nearby Koreatown to have dinner. I love me some Korean grill cooking.  Korean BBQ never sounds quite right to me- When I think about BBQ, I think of men slathering gooey red sauces on chicken legs or a ridiculously large piece of pig.  With Korean BBQ there is the little grill in the center of the table, on which one decently cooks pieces of beef, pork or chicken- delicately turning it with chopsticks.  This is nimble cooking, not some big slab of cow smoking on the coals with a dirty tank top wearing dude flipping it with a prong.  Despite the dainty little grill at the Korean BBQ restaurant a rather indecent amount of meat was consumed.  I am lucky that my other meals of the day were low in points because otherwise I would have felt even grosser then I do now.  But THIS is not the point of this blog- 

My son Oliver is incredibly cute.  He is actually also incredibly beautiful. He is a kind and gentle soul and thinks of others. He shares and will gladly give you his cookie if he thinks you might want it.  On top of all that he has a way of looking at people through his eyelashes with his head tilted ever so slightly down that makes pretty much everyone like him. People will always gravitate towards him. This blog is ALSO not about how gorgeous and wonderful I think my son is...but I will throw in some pictures to drive the cuteness home.

I read alot of books written by Asian writers. I don't know what it is about these books that I like so much but I really DO enjoy them.  One of my favorite authors is Gail Tsukiyama.  I think I first got into them way back when Memoirs of a Geisha was written. I friggin' LOVE that book.  I was also really into Japan as a kid and thought going for Sukiyaki was the coolest thing ever and that Whooping Cranes were snazzy birds. Anyway- Because I have read so many of these books I feel like I have a little bit of an understanding of Asian cultures. Sons are revered while, in most cases, daughters have very little importance.  So what the hell is this about you are wondering and how much weed have I smoked? actually none.

At the restaurant, I was struck by the amount of attention my son got from the waitstaff.  I was trying to figure out if they just thought he was cute or if it was also because he was a boy.  Lulu didn't get the same attention and as far as I am concerned, she is just as adorable.  The amount of attention wasn't just a few ooo's and aws but was the waiter bringing different waiters over, yammering in Korean and looking at him and mussing his hair. They really waited on him too and listened intently when he spoke. It was very nice and my head swelled with pride but it also verged on almost weird.  While I'm stuffing myself with meat and the waiter with the strangely unkorean name of Chris is helping Oliver take his sweater off and smoothing down his hair and wiping the meat juice off his hands I am trying to imagine what was going through Lulu's head.  She compares everything between her and Oliver. It is like a big contest.  At the Korean BBQ Oliver was clearly "winning".  I seriously wouldn't have been surprised if they gave him a present before we left or maybe a crown.  AND, I kid you not, after I left my credit card on the table to pay, when they brought it back they gave it to him. I, seriously, just don't know what to make of it and in my little head I am skimming through hundreds of pages of stories set in Asia that might answer this for me.  It made me wonder about how females must feel in these countries. And then I thought of bitchy ol' Tiger mom whose book I have NOT read even though she IS Asian. I can't imagine being a mom like her-  I am thinking of of my husband's mother who always asks if our kids were the cutest ones in a room. I am thinking she would have loved this. So what is the point of this blog? I guess there really isn't one. Maybe I just wanted to gloat.  I do feel bad for my little Lulu though.  I could never chose one over the other- nor would I ever treat one kid better then their sibling.  

Today at the farmer's market we ran into my therapist and afterwards in the car Lulu said in a very matter of fact way "I think I need to go in and speak to Barbara because of all the lying and cutting my hair and biting my friend. I shouldn't be doing these things. I need to talk to Barbara about it because she really understands me" This coming out of a 43 pound 7 year old. Now if that isn't cute...

photo by Laurie Bailey   April 2009

Bang bang

This morning as I cuddled my kidlets, I noticed Lulu had clumps of short hair that mildly resembled bangs.  When I asked her what happened she very casually said that two weeks ago the PE coach had to cut her unicorn necklace out of her hair. If nothing else I AM observant. I have an uncanny ability to see "stuff"- part of the GPS that is hard wired into my brain.  AND the size of the clump was wwwway bigger then a necklace could have gotten tangled in- unless, of course, the necklace wasn't a little circle with a pony head in it but was ohh maybe a big prickly pine cone with a spinning inside that resembles the interior of a zhou zhou pet. And what teacher in their right mind would chop a kids hair like that?
Because she was so casual about how she told me, my first thought was that I was going to march into the Principal's office and demand to know what kind of rules they had when it came to cutting a little circular horse head charm out of some one's hair. THEN- I was going to march up to the PE teacher and give her a piece of my psycho mommy mind.  But 2 weeks ago? I would have noticed.   I proceeded to ask her to tell me the truth. She told me the same story again.  When I got a little stern, she told it again. Now I am starting to wonder if I am violating our trust because I am doubting her. and I start feeling bad. So JUST to test her, I said that I was going to talk to the coach and the principal about it. Horrified she zipped out of the bed and ran into her room.  Finally, after pressing her, she admitted that she had cut it herself last night.
So now I am not just mad that her hair is all fucked up but that she lied. And her lie came so easily and was almost believable and she is only 7. What the hell am I in for?  I shutter to think what my little darling angel baby will be when she is 14. yikes.  And the challenge her is how do I "nip it in the bud"? How do I teach her that lying is wrong? That she could get someone else in trouble?  I understand that maybe she feels like an idiot for chopping a chunk of her hair for apparently no reason at all but why is it that she just can't say oops? She hates to talk about things. And if there is ANYTHING that I want her to feel comfortable with it is talking about things with me because I didn't have that and may be a more functional person had I had that. Not that I am entirely dysfunctional but we have our issues.
This afternoon I tried to fix the damage to her hair and can I just say that bangs do not suit Lulu.  Poor thing was outraged that I had to cut her hair a bit to make it bland in. Like cut the other side since only one side was cut.  The punishment for her lie was to go to bed without Woody, her favorite thing in the whole world.  How I wish that I could find such comfort from a mangy little green ball with two eyes and part of a nose. After about an hour of crying she finally went to sleep. I'm torn because I hated keeping Woody from her but the lie...the lie. Am I expecting too much from an almost 8 year old? I swear I have never been this mean to her.  When I tried to talk to her about what she had done and what could have happened she screamed she didn't care if her coach got in trouble. Ugh, it all makes me feel so grown up and like I need to set a good example.  It was so much easier playing peek-a-boo.  Another aspect of life that I need to figure out.  As if midlife crisis isn't enough!

Education rant

There are few things in life that really get my blood boiling.  One of them is public education and the lack of funding.  I grew up going to private school so I am still trying to figure out the "whole public school thing".  I have this perpetual feeling that I am somehow failing because my kids are and will be stuck in a failing system.  I really WANT to love public education and yet everyday when I drive by the local private school I feel a little grumble in my heart that has nothing to do with what I ate that morning.  I am so angry that the schools aren't better and that there are so many people, lets just call them Republicans, that think that education is secondary.  Why is it more important for CEOs to have their multimillion dollar bonuses and that we pay for multi-billion dollar wars in other countries where they don't even want us while our kids, OUR kids are basically marching into a screaming mess.
When I was a kid I had french twice a week and art and music and a science lab . We had a gymnasium with balance beams and trampolines, carpeted hallways with clean lockers lining them.  If it rained it was dry and warm, if it was sunny and hot there was air conditioning. That was 30 plus years ago.  My daughter's school is considered one of "the better ones" as far as the public schools in Los Angeles are concerned. They are learning the basics- math, reading etc but it seems that it is all test/numbers driven.  The whole thing with accountability and testing is just not working- The kids aren't interested. My daughter doesn't enjoy school that much. I don't remember not wanting to go to school when I was in second grade. "It's all about the numbers" is the wrong way to approach our kids.  The better the numbers the more funding the school gets. Test test test. Just what every 7 year old wants to do.  What happened to making education fun? We should be looking for ways to make education more creative and diverse, and to make students more well-rounded and independent. And such things as learning another language- French....To these kids french is either a kind of toast, a fry or a mustard as far as they are concerned.  Why isn't learning another language not important? Should we be so arrogant to assume that everyone in the world speaks English and if they don't then their schools can teach them how to talk like us? Is this what our kids are going to think?
Funding has been cut and then cut and then cut. There are 24 kids in my daughters class- one teacher and as far as I can tell not much extra help. It smells musty and its damp from a leak. These kids are our future and sometimes it feels like no one gives a shit. How is this approach to education going to make our children great adults.  Is it only up to us as parents? Is it 95% of it comes from home?
Last year my daughter had the MOST fantastic first grade teacher. She had more energy and enthusiasm then most of the other teachers combined. I was THRILLED with her. When budget cuts rolled around last year she was given her pink slip and this was all based on seniority.  So all the excited new teachers would leave and the old grouchy burnt out ones could stay. Not only was about 25% of the teachers given pink slips but the libraries were in danger of being closed down as well. And the school nurse was going to be itinerant.  This is ridiculous.  The teachers' job  as well as the libraries AND nurses were eventually saved due to parent driven fund raising for the district. But again this year the system is facing more cuts. And why should it be the responsibility of the parents to clean up after a shitty government?
On Jon Stewart the other day he did a monologue about the budget cuts and how Educators are expected to take pay cuts and benefit cuts while CEOs still keep all theirs intact.
See monologue here
Rather than ending tax cuts for the wealthy or closing corporate tax loopholes, Republicans want to get money from the teachers. I just can't figure it out. I am at a loss for words when it comes to the values of some Republicans.  And teacher salaries. Yes, my husband is a teacher and I'd love if we had a fatter bank account but really- teachers deserve to be paid more.  They are shaping our future.  This is a rant- I know but hey- mid life crisis has its rants- I am trying to make MY immediate world and reality better for me. And as for my future- isn't that sort of in the hands of all these kids that are in sub-par schools learning how to take timed math tests?  So will our taxes that we pay to the schools now go to buying more flat screen TVs for inmates or maybe to help bail out a fallen bank?  How do I keep from feeling like I am failing my kids? I should be able to trust public education. I really should. and I don't.  As snobby as it sounds I wish my kids could have the carpet lined hallways and science labs. But that ain't gonna happen.

Morning Stream that I am writing at Night

An uneventful ultrasound with Oliver in tow- "Mommy, " he says,"Are we having a baby?" "No" I answered. "Then why is your belly so big?"
This counting points thing is a BIG pain in the ass but I am doing it. Today was a particularly ludicrous day-I had oatmeal with banana and almonds for breakfast and then didn't anything but a few green tea mints from Trader Joes- yum- until about 4. By this time I was at gymnastics with Lulu and was really hungry. So I went to the vending machine- which I NEVER do- and had 4 points worth of Sun Chips. Then we came home and I had to get our potluck contribution to Lulu's second grade "family" night ready.  So by the time we get there I have stored about 20 points worth of food which I TOTALLY blow on meatballs, chicken nuggets and some bad flan and some equally bad pound cake of some kind.  Pure junk. And I still have like one point to spare. (I didn't eat 45 meatballs and a whole pan of flan-) Because I am psycho like that I will weigh myself in the morning and see if this evenings binge made a difference. Regardless of that I am actually feeling quite a bit better today.  But the day started off slightly hellaciously.
As usual we were running late. Lulu wanted pancakes, Oliver wanted crepes. Luckily I have the batter ready made so it isn't a huge deal. I made Lulu a "Woody" pancake which she complained looked more like Mickey Mouse- Oliver as usual was happy with his jam filled crepes. * o' clock arrives and we need top leave.  I go through this every day and I can't figure out why it is always a nightmare. I'm trying to get the kids in the car, Oliver is frantically trying to figure out what to bring "for share" at school which I don't get because they don't even have show and tell in his preschool and he insists on doing this EVERY day.  Lulu is wearing a tank top while I have on a long sleeve shirt, a sweater and am thinking about going overkill with my down jacket.  It is not hot outside so clearly one of us isn't dressed right. And maybe I'm a little overdressed but come on. I swear I am wondering if I actually gave birth to a pair of goats...except goats would be easier to get into the car. Anyway we are driving up to school.  I am being told to shut up as I absently sing along with "the Leftovers Are Coming to Get Me"- another song I have been subjected to hearing over and over again in the car.  I am feeling irritated and like I want to pull off my ponytails and choke myself with them. I feel like I go through this everyday- this hurry hurry hurry get in the car, did you brush your teeth? Lulu put on your shoes. Not those- those are too small- we just got you some beautiful shies that fit. Come on put them on. They won't feel funny for very long. I promise you are going to think they are SO comfortable.... Put them ON. . Oliver, you don't need a share, put on your seat belt, I thought YOU had your backpack.  That is supposed to be your responsibility. Oliver stop eating your snack- that's for school. Oliver stop bothering Lulu.  Oliver, OLIVER will you please listen? Oliver! Lulu brush your hair it looks like a rat and his 3 cousins had a party in there. Bicker Bicker and then a few minutes of being entranced by Lorenzo Llama on Kids Place Live (Sirius satellite) followed by 18 questions pertaining to why does Lorenzo Llama not want to be touched? We get to school right as the bell rings and as I basically toss Lulu out the door, I am told by Lulu that  I NEVER walk her to class.  Which is total bullshit because I walk there almost everyday.  Lulu has this weird thing about the old guy that helps the children get safely from their cars into the school gate.  She freaks out if he tries to open the door.  I always jump out quickly to beat him to the door but sometimes he gets there first. Slippery fellow. So here is this guy who is somebody's grandpa and every time I unlock the car with the remote and he tries to open the door, Lulu locks it.  This goes on for like 20 seconds and I am about to blow a gasket. He is nervously chuckling as if to tell me, "What a charming little princess you have here!" and he really means "Get your fucking kid outta the car because you are blocking traffic" He finally gets her out and quickly guides her around the car and into the gate.  And the look Lulu gave me! Yikes.  As soon as Lulu gets out of the car, Oliver usually falls silent, asking every so often what song we are listening to- though he could care less- he does it because Lulu does it.  He gets mad if when he talks and  I say "Uh huh", so usually once during our drive from Lulu's school to his preschool, I will inadvertently answer "Uh Huh" and he will start reprimanding me.  Finally I drop Oliver off and am alone! and then I get a text from my dear friend about walking on the beach and immediately my day begins to get better.  And in looking back the good stuff REALLY isn't as entertaining as the bad stuff.
I am wondering if the thyroid supplement that I began is helping me with the achiness.  Could it happen that fast? I still need to blog about the visit with the endrocrinologist . Maybe tomorrow. Wow...I am really tired. Gnight.

On Self Compassion

There was an interesting article in the New York Times about self compassion titled "Go Easy on Yourself, a New Research Urges" written by Tara Parker-Pope.
Tidbits-
"Do you treat yourself as well as you treat others?
People who find it easy to be supportive and understanding to others, it turns out, often score surprisingly low on self-compassion tests, berating themselves for perceived failures like being overweight or not exercising.
The research suggests that giving ourselves a break and accepting our imperfections may be the first step toward better health. People who score high on tests of self-compassion have less depression and anxiety, and tend to be happier and more optimistic."
"Imagine your reaction to a child struggling in school or eating too much junk food. Many parents would offer support, like tutoring or making an effort to find healthful foods the child will enjoy. But when adults find themselves in a similar situation — struggling at work, or overeating and gaining weight — many fall into a cycle of self-criticism and negativity. That leaves them feeling even less motivated to change."
"Dr. Neff suggests a set of exercises — like writing yourself a letter of support, just as you might to a friend you are concerned about. Listing your best and worst traits, reminding yourself that nobody is perfect and thinking of steps you might take to help you feel better about yourself are also recommended."

All interesting ideas.
I find myself in the position of helping others alot. I am THAT friend that will help you paint your house, bring you food when you are sick, offer to help and actually follow through. I am also THAT mom who seems to be wearing the same clothes everyday, has inch long roots and can't seem to figure out what the hell to do with my own space.
Mid life crisis- swimming through it and sometimes hitting some stormy seas- which by the way is one of the scariest things I can imagine- floating around in the middle of a cold sea during a storm, at night. eeks. THIS isn't scary like that. phew.
A good lesson IS to list the positives and perhaps just forget about the negatives because that is just written reinforcement of what I already think.  Writing the positives does seem self indulgent but fuck it- here it is:
I have a good sense of color, I am good at fixing things, I am a decent cook, I am good at figuring things out, I am good at multitasking, I am thoughtful and mostly considerate, I am creative, I can count backwards by sevens really fast, I am well traveled, my brain came with it's own GPS- making it very difficult for me to get lost. I am a good listener, I can carry a tune, I can carry at least 50 pounds no problem, I pretty much have a photographic memory for places.  I am outgoing, I am friendly but have been told, not literally, that I have an air that says "Stay away from me lest I bite you" I have nice fingernails when they aren't dirty. I am a good driver.  I have a dark sense of humor (Which I believe to be a good thing) I am good at rhyming. I have rhythm. Put those two together and you'd think I could rap- but I can't- at least I never tried. I can do my own tax returns. When I am your friend you can count on me for almost anything because I am and truly believe that I am a good friend.
and my letter of support
Dear Susanna- you silly little minx (like cheeky not the sexy seductive kind)

Yes I AM lucky.
now off to get my ultrasound!

Weighing it in

Why should Jennifer Hudson be the only person to go from fat to fanfriggintastic? Why I ask? Why Why Why? Answer to the overly obvious question is she shouldn't be.
On Saturday, I joined Weight Watchers in hopes of going from fat n' frumpy to hottie mom. If I wasn't so overly self conscious and disgusted with myself I would post a "before" picture and REALLY emphasize my extra layer. But I'm not going to because as you would know- if you have followed this at all- is I hate for people from the past to see pictures of me and think "Holy shit, what the fuck happened to her? She used to have such a great figure."But I WILL post my triumphant afters when the afters are worthy of public view.
What I am finding about this program is that I think about food all the time. This points system makes you track everything you eat.  I find myself inputting recipes so I will know JUST how many points I have consumed in a single serving of such things as my favorite lentil soup for example. (5 points)
I get 29 points a day. For breakfast I could have  2 Samoa girl scout cookies for 4 points or I can have an egg white omelet with spinach and mozzarella and an English muffin. But don't those girl scout cookies sound deeeelish?  My problem is the "I only get TWO cookies???"
Another fact about me is I have NO self control when it comes to sweets. Candy, cookies, cupcakes, my kids, any delectable treat that includes lemon as an ingredient.  I can't eat half a cookie. My first thought to that sentence was "Who the fuck only eats half a cookie?" That is how pathetic I am.
I went to my first "meeting" this past Saturday morning bright and early at 8am. yeah yeah, who the fuck eats the cookie...who the fuck gets up to be some place at 8am on Saturday? I don't go to church so this is going to be my version of Mass. I was all ready to stand up in front of everyone and say "Hello my name is Susanna" look down with shame and whisper, "and I am fat" then the crowd stands up, claps, welcomes me with open arms, pats on the back, words of encouragement.  This didn't happen.  If you know anything about me you would find it slightly comical that I am in this room with a bunch of folks all wanting to be svelte like Jennifer Hudson.  Especially with my flawdar spinning on it's axis as I size up and compare everyone to myself.
At the end of the meetings they "celebrate" people and their weight loss.  There is a guy there who has lost 119 pounds and in celebration they gave him a gold washer. Okay- great he lost a hundred pounds but what is he gonna do with a gold washer? Go home and do some plumbing? I have to say though, I was impressed. It takes alot of will to do that and he wasn't even a bad looking guy- though I think I would have saved the Kelly Green Sweatshirt for St. Patricks Day. Bam!...see? had to go there.
So, so far I have been doing pretty good. Alot of salad, veggies, not one cookie and no ice cream.  Tomorrow I am getting an Ultra sound of my tummy in the place where it hurts.  I am thinking I have bacterial overgrowth, as I have had it before and that knife stabby feeling is sorta the same.  The Ultrasound will tell me nothing about that but it will rule out other things that I shutter to imagine what they are. Maybe they will tell me that Jennifer Hudson is living in my tummy and if I just give birth to her I will be cute and sassy again?