My Alligator Purse

My baby girl turned 6 this year and I failed to mark it with a blog post. So here it goes.

She has changed so much over the year. In the last 2 months especially. Recently she needed a pair of jeans for school, so she and I went shopping while the boys were in preschool. First I bought her her first pair of jeans in over 2 years. Then she asked me to buy her some summer shorts. I also bought her a bathing suit, her color choice was blue (not the usual everything-must-be-pink preference). After that we headed to drive-thru where she proclaimed she would want chicken nuggets, 6 of them, rather than her usual cheeseburger, no onions and no pickles.

Honestly, she is changing right before my eyes. And she is so responsible too. She got her own room in the last few months and I am letting her keep it the way she wants, as much as it pains me. She has her own organizational system and she will spend quite a bit of time rearranging her belongings.

She has taken charge of almost everything she does these days; showers, meals, choosing her clothing. She even does her homework by herself. She really doesn’t need me much these days, but its nice that she still wants me around - sometimes.

She is doing fabulous in first grade, even after her rocky start. And as we near the end of the school year I am allowing her to start walking to school. I don’t worry about someone stealing her. Because she is so opinionated that she wouldn’t dare get into their car without a booster. I do worry about her being so busy thinking in her head that she will step in front of a car while crossing the street. So for now she only walks part way, no crossing the street. I am hoping that by September I will be able to help her cross the first street and she can walk the rest of the way by herself. She will be so pleased.

Caskey says we are throwing gasoline on a fire by giving her responsibilities. It might be true. No. Its definitely true. But she is so happy being in charge and she is good at it too. She knows the rules, she follows them and she is a born leader. In the morning when the boys wake up they go into her room and play. She keeps them all organized and quiet. She will even come to my room and ask what she should get for breakfast.

I’m proud of my baby girl. I really am. I feel like I can look at her and know what her future holds. I’m not worried. She is a leader and a survivor. I just have to survive her childhood.

Instead of painting, Lainy Ann organized the girls into playing with her new dress-up Minnie Mouse. She told all the girls which outfit they could hold. Lainy Ann held Minnie Mouse.

My gifts:

Each hand print was taken at the same age:

We went to the park in the morning

Then the kids enjoyed their new bikes

It was a three-generational tea party. Although we did not don gloves and hats. There was no tea or tiny pastries. Instead we stood outside of City Hall and protested the raising of the sales tax and other taxes.

I hadn’t realized this but this was my mother’s first protest. As a girl I remember looking through pictures of my mom before she was married and had kids. She was a hippie. Long hair and flowing dresses. In fact she got married in yellow carrying a bunch of wildflowers. I just assumed she had also been burning her bra and sitting-in.

We were able to go on my mother’s lunch break. It wasn’t initially my plan to take Lainy Ann, but there is nothing wrong with teaching my child to think for herself and even more importantly to stand up for herself. Regardless of which side of the aisle she is on.

It was very heartwarming being there. There were quite a few senior citizens there with a cane in one hand and a sign in the other. There was a mother pushing a double-stroller. She then got out the picnic lunch for her 4 kids while the organizer spoke of lowering taxes and writing our senators.

I’m not sure how much of a difference we made that day. But I know I can rest assured that I have taught my daughter that our government is of the people and for the people.

It might be Mother’s Day, but honestly, I wouldn’t be a good mother without a fabulous husband. He makes it all possible and worthwhile.

So I want to thank him for being a good provider, role model and friend. Most importantly he is the best server provider ever! Our 9 year old server bit the dust two-weeks ago. He worked many long nights at work a launch date on the horizon and then came home and tried to fix the server. In the end he bought a new server and then spent many hours looking for data, including a recent copy of my blog.

He found it and I am back. I have lots of new pictures and things to say. So stay tuned.

******* This is your only warning. If you don’t want to hear me brag about my kids, then leave this post now. ********

Today is Easter and we got done with our religious and familial festivities early in the day. By the afternoon we were searching for things to do, so we ended up driving all over town looking for stores that were open that we wanted to buy. The kids were pretty mellow playing their math games and quizzing each other on addition. Yup, you read that right. Lainy Ann would quiz Connor, “What’s 1,000 + 100?” “16 +16?” All of a sudden a disagreement erupts from the back row? “Daddy, are crocodiles born out of eggs?” Yes “Well, Connor wanted me to guess which is born from eggs; birds or crocodiles?” I picked birds. But Connor was thinking crocodiles. That’s not fair.” Yup, my 4 and 6 year old were discussing how crocodiles and birds are born.

Then later this afternoon my son read his very first entire book to me. My 4 year old read Hot Dog by Molly Coxe, a level one reader. Can you believe it? The only word he had trouble with was ‘chilly’. He didn’t even have to sound out the words. I think he is a better reader than Lainy Ann was at this age. Wow.

Lainy Ann has been having a hard time lately remembering her responsibilities to her family. She hasn’t wanted to help out with family chores; when the kids are asked to clean she throws a tantrum or refuses. Most recently she stopped off to her room and refused because she was mad. It has been very frustrating. I decided to get creative with punishment. It seems the time outs and the lecturers weren’t doing the job. So she got grounded for 24 hours, not the typical grounding where she wasn’t allowed to use electronics. I explained to her that she was going to get the same treatment she was giving the family. If she asked for help at all in 24 hours I was going to say, “no, I’m mad”. I told her that I wouldn’t be making her dinner, helping her with homework, turning on her bath water for 24 hours. She would be on her own without family to support and help her.

So this morning at 7:30 am I am making 3 sandwiches, one for each child. She says, “Its not 8 o’clock, mommy”. I tell her I know. She says, “you can’t make my sandwich yet because I am still grounded.” The text is not conveying the tone in which these words were spoken. She was upset that I was making her sandwich. She wanted to make the sandwich. ugh! I think she enjoyed the 24 hours where she was able to do it all herself and act like a grown-up. So much for creative punishments.

My husband is a genius. He installed a drinking fountain outside to eliminate the endless trips in the house for a drink of water. No more air conditioning leaking out of the house, no more muddy floors and no more cups left outside. I’m giddy with excitement.

If I were good at this kind of thing I would include a parts list and step-by-step instructions. But I’m not. So instead I will include some pictures and a website link. If you are truly curious I suggest you email my husband who is the owner of the website Paralipsis linked on the right.
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I’m not very sports-minded and never have been. I can’t even tell you what sport is in season; my guess is basketball or baseball, but honestly I have no idea. I think my dad cured me of that. When I was growing up every single weekend there was sports on the television; football, basketball, baseball even golf. Fortunately we got our own television in our bedroom when we were pre-teens. We were even drug along to Lakers basketball games in the 80’s, the time of Kareem and Magic. I look back on it now as being pretty cool and part of something nifty, but back then I was bored to death and exhausted by the time we got home.

I have been avoiding competitive sports for some time now. The kids are plenty active in gymnastics and swimming classes. Connor has recently started taking a sports skills class that is a combination of teaching the very basics of sports and also tumbling. He really enjoys it but a lot of his friends are in T-ball or soccer.

So we took the plunge and pre-registered him for fall soccer, in April. That’s right the season doesn’t begin for 4 months. I have been very hesitant and nervous about enrolling him in soccer. The commitment scares me. I have heard stories of extreme parents and committing every Saturday, rain or shine, is not really my idea of fun. As a result I have poured over the AYSO website, reading every aspect of it to know what to expect. I pre-pre-registered him 2 months ago and then had to walk the paperwork in this weekend.

We were turned away because we didn’t have his birth certificate with us. Can you believe it? I have signed him up for the Under-5 division; no scores, no practices, and no goal keepers, but I still need proof of his age. Ridiculous! Honestly, who would lie to get their 6-year-old into the Under-5 division just so the child has an advantage 3 years from now. I don’t think I am cut out for this sports-thing.

There is a conspiracy in the fashion world. Its almost sexism. Girls clothes are preferred over boys clothes. All the girls clothes gets special treatment. They are in the fashionable colors. They get priority placement at the cash register. The boy clothes are hidden in the back corner and have far fewer choices.

My littlest dude is ready for shoes. Not real ones from Stride Rite. No the soft soled ones that are sort-of shoes, but not really. He is starting to stand and before the month is out he will be needing shoes for when we are out and about so he can stand on the filthy floor at McD’s. In the past I have purchased the Robeez. This time we are going to try out the Pedipeds.

I typed in www.pediped.com ready to find lots of cute little boy ’shoes’ to choose from. The three pics on the home page is a large one of 8 little girls sitting in their Easter Finest on a garden bench swinging their pediped-clad feet back and forth. The next picture is a close up of those adorable white buckled shoes and the 3rd picture is the same shoes in the soft soled variety.

Yes! I get it. Boys aren’t cute. Girls clothes are cuter. But my not-cute boy will one day grow up to squish a spider for that squealing girl in her Mary Janes or he will take out the trash for the same little girl so her dress doesn’t get ruined. So please don’t ignore the boys moms, um, I mean the boys.

They are all gone. All that is left is a few pairs of underwear that are as big as a circus tent and just as brightly colored and 2 bathing suits. There are no more maternity clothes in this house. Wow. I might actually cry. Well, the only thing that will keep me from crying is that I gave them to a good friend with the stipulation that she give them back “just in case”. Its given me an out. I can have them back if I want them or if I need them. I love having the safety net of getting rid of things and no intentions of having more babies, but I can still change my mind or have it changed for me.

I can’t believe that I have been doing the baby/pregnant thing for 7 years now. Some days it feel longer, but on nights like this where everyone is sleeping and quiet it seems like yesterday when I first started shopping for my tent shirts and had to learn how maternity pants worked. *sniff* Yeah, I’m gonna need those clothes back. At least for the memories.