Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Believe It Or Not

A year ago, I didn't like zucchini. Or onions. Or mushrooms or eggplant. I'm still on the fence about mushrooms and eggplant (together or separate), but since I gave up eating things that used to walk around I have discovered that... believe it or not... vegetables are yummy! A year ago, if I had told Husbandguy that I was going to become a vegetarian, he would have said, "What are you going to eat, then? You don't eat vegetables. You'll starve!" He may have actually said that 11 months ago, when I did tell him I was going to be a vegetarian. And oh how wrong he was (I think he may have been projecting, actually). Because, you see, when you can't eat the "easy" stuff, you tend to discover that the things that repelled you before are actually worth trying. That doesn't mean you're necessarily going to love them right away (see mushrooms and eggplant comment above), but for me, about 60% of the time, it does mean that. It's inspiring, really, and makes me want to try more things or things I didn't like prepared in different ways (like brussel sprouts not overcooked). And now when I tell my kids that they can't say they don't like something until they've actually tried it, I can back it up with example. My 1-year vegeversary is coming up. I'm trying to figure out how to celebrate it. I'm considering also giving up eating things that used to swim around, but that would make it really hard to eat out with my family, who all still eat things that used to have faces...

Aside: I had a fabulous beet salad when the Grandpa, HG and I went out for my birthday dinner. I don't usually like salads because of all the lettuce, but this was just beets and arugula and candied pecans and it was amazing and now I'm craving it but it's 4 hours away and I don't have any beets here...

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Whatever (some randomosity fer ye)

One: Pete's teachers have been trying to get Pete into the Talent Development program at her school. You know, that little bit of extra attention for gifted students to help them not get bored (my elementary school called it the Gifted and Talented program). We found out this morning that they don't think that she's quite gifted enough. On the one hand, I think they're full of it. Because a. I'm her mom, and b. she's really bright, and c. I'm her mom. But on the other hand, I get it. She is gifted, but I am absolutely positive it wasn't completely evident to them due to the fact that a. she doesn't have a whole lot of experience with test-taking (she's a Montessori kid, after all), and b. she doesn't have particularly well-honed attention-to-details skills (she's working hard on that). But we know she needs challenges and her actual classroom teacher knows she needs challenges so even if the elitist TD people don't want her, we'll still help her develop her talents.

2: Last Sunday we started writing the Follies, which are scheduled for October 16 (mark your calendars Meme, TG, and Moomie - and anyone else...). You may recall that last year I joined the little troupe late and still managed to ROCK the show. Remember? (Click here...) Well, this year I am being all involvedy from the very beginning so it will SUPER ROCK. But not just because of me. We've got a fantastic little group of writers and a bunch of talented performers and I am all full of ideas and can't wait for our next meeting... All I'm saying is that there will be a pink flamingo neon light on stage... And that if we see Zuzu, she will probably be 8 years old...

III: "What's up with Abby?" you ask. (Go ahead and say it out loud. I'll wait...) Well, I answer, something is up. Something not good. I think, perhaps, whatever energy oversees the owner/pet relationships in our house is testing (or punishing) us due to our whole Howie screw-up (we get it - we messed up). Our poor Abby should have been spayed in December, but I opted to wait until January due to the fact that Santa went overboard, as she usually does, and Mrs. Claus was already rolling his eyes about the credit card bills. I made the appointment and everything for right after Pete's birthday, but the vet wouldn't do it because poor puppy had (what we thought was just) a urinary tract infection. So, a monthplus and half-a-dozen vet visits and a heatcycle and several$100 later, the bacteria is gone, apparently (the culture didn't grow anything), but the puppy is still full of crystals and is having accidents on the couch and in the kitchen and on the carpet (she's not allowed on the bed anymore). But there's no stone. No obvious explanation. So today they're checking her liver function. I tell you what, I am really worried about that little creature because a. her mom and both of her litter mates are dead, and b. she's ½ Maltese, a breed that is prone to liver shunts. And Mrs. Claus is rolling his eyes again about how expensive my stuff seems to be, but he gets that there's nothing I can do about it other than keep taking her to the vet to find out what's wrong. I think I'm glad we didn't have her spayed in December, now, because if something is wrong with her liver, we wouldn't have known and it could have been really dangerous to put her under. She's scheduled for spaying this Friday, though, and her doctor is still planning on doing it so maybe they can fix this other problem at the same time and everything will be the way it's supposed to be from now on... Maybe...

FORE! We're planning on putting our house back on the market next week. We're waiting to hear back from the agent, but that's our plan. So fingers crossed for us, okay?

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Worst. Mom. Ever.

Poor kid. I jumped to conclusions and assumed that my sweet Pete wasn't so sweet because of what happened last month. When she got home yesterday, I asked her about the rubber bands and she denied the other child's story but couldn't tell me what had actually happened so I thought she probably did bully the child out of her rubber bands but maybe said something else that she was ashamed to tell me because she knew it was wrong.

But then...

Around 7:00 last night...

The phone rang...

And it was the other mom and she was effusively apologetic. I had emailed her about what Pete had told me, including that she had given the rubber bands back when she was asked so the other mom talked to the other kid some more about it. Guess what. The other kid made it all up!

Poor Pete. She very graciously and with great maturity accepted everyone's apologies (mine, the other kid's, the other mom's).

Then she walked in her sleep, which I think I've mentioned before, she seems to do mainly when she's overly stressed. I felt terrible. Yep. Worst. Mom. Ever. Yesterday...

Monday, February 15, 2010

Bully Bully

Sigh... What am I going to do with that kid?

I got a note from a mom-friend of mine. Her girls ride the bus with my Pete. She said that the cool rubber bands Pete brought home on Friday actually belong to her 5 year-old. Pete told us all weekend that the girl had given them to her, but it turns out, according to the mom-friend, that she gave them to Pete after Pete threatened her.

Hey! you say. How can you just take the word of this mom (and other child) without talking to Pete?

And I answer, I'm planning on asking Pete what happened, but given her history, I suspect it's true. Plus, the girl didn't tell her mom about it until the mom overheard her talking to her sister about it.

You say, What history?

Last month I got a call from the assistant principal at Pete's school because Pete had gotten a little boy thrown off the bus by telling him to hit and then bite another child. Pete confirmed the story when I asked her. Of course the kid was at fault for doing those things, but Pete told him to. She was lucky not to have also been suspended from the bus. I'm still not sure why she wasn't, actually. And in kindergarten she was included in a group that the school psychologist led of children learning all about what it means to be a bully. And there was a mom who refused to talk to me ever but I didn't find out that her problem with me was that Pete picked on her daughter until they had moved her daughter to another school (not just because of Pete, I don't think), and then I had to hear it from another parent.

I feel really clueless.

I am so embarrassed.

I'm at a loss...

Sigh... This isn't over.

I May Not Be Very Good at this Posting-Every-Day Thing Right Now, but just wait until April...

El Fin Yesterday was the end of a long, fun period of creativity for me, leading up to several "performances" (in quotes because of the amateur-ness of them and because they were all at my church). It started with planning meetings for the intergenerational service at church, which was last weekend and which I narrated (beautifully, of course). At some point I got recruited to do the coffeehouse, which was this past Saturday, and also a little something during my church's Carnival service, which is an over-the-top silly service held at or around the start of Mardi Gras and which inspired our minister to comment he is always afraid we will get visitors on that day (we did have visitors yesterday, and they all seemed to have a blast). I wore my red plaid pajamas and fuzzy red slippers to church and no one sneered.

Successes Everything went well. I am 100% positive that everyone at my church knows that they can call on me to do creative things, silly or not. And I was told, "You're fun to play with." Not in a suggestive way...

UP I don't realize how consuming impending performances (little or big) are for me until they are finished. Apparently I'm all worked up inside pre-performance or something because I was soooooo sleepy yesterday after lunch when it was all over. In a way that I hadn't been sleepy in several months. A good relieved sleepy. But also I felt a little lost. What's next?

What's Next? Seriously. Well, um... Next weekend we have our first Follies-writing meeting, but the show isn't until October... April, you may recall, is a poem-a-day month for me, since it's National Poetry Month... I'm looking forward to both of those things, but somehow they don't seem quite enough...

S'Okay I'll find something.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Our "Watch" Dog

I was busy practicing my music for the coffeehouse on Saturday and didn't notice that it was time for me to leave to get Lulu from school until Abby put her paws on the piano bench, clearly wanting something from me. I didn't realize until I had shuffled her into her room and was driving away that she was telling me that the time had come for her to be put away so I could leave and bring home that other human.

Even Lulu Was Alarmed

It was so windy here yesterday that even the birds had trouble landing on the powerlines. I know! I witnessed it!!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

LL Says:

I tried on the fishnet stockings I am planning on wearing to church this coming Sunday. Lulu was curious. After carefully inspecting my right thigh, she announced:

"I like them. They have holes in them. And I can touch you through them!"

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Can You Say 'Support'?

So, I'm signed up to sing at the coffeehouse at my church next Saturday. The theme is love (for obvious reasons), and I'm going to sing, "It's Only a Paper Moon." Should be cool, I think.

So, coffeehouses aren't really Husbandguy's scene. In college (the first time - before I knew him) his friends all called him Metalhead [HG]. His appearance is a bit more conservative now, but the name still fits his taste in music. I can't imagine that a bunch of strangers singing melodiously and whatnot would be an interesting evening for him. I know for certain that he wouldn't go with me if I was just going to listen.

So, I said to HG, "You don't want to come to the coffeehouse do you?" and he said, "I wasn't invited," all fake-hurt and stuff so I said, "I didn't think you'd want to go," and he just shrugged like maybe he would so I said, "Will you come listen to me sing at the coffeehouse?" in an invitational way and he said...

Get this...

He said, "I don't know." In a tone that clearly implied PARAGRAPH 2 above.

And I have to say that I don't really want him to come if he's just going to be bored, and if he does come, we'll be taking separate cars (very un-green of us but relationship-necessary) so he can leave whenever and I can stay until the end.

But at the same time, I want him to want to come because it's what I'm interested in and I'm performing. I went to 3 KISS farewell concerts (3 separate farewell tours - they say goodbye a lot - and they're touring again now) with him, forpetessake, because it is what he's interested in, and he wasn't even in the shows!

Monday, February 8, 2010

Frustrating Things

AAARRGGH! Pete has something wrong with her feet or something. She'll try on a pair of shoes in the store and we'll buy them and then when we get home and she puts them on to wear them to school or someplace, suddenly they're so unbelievably uncomfortable that she melts down and then puts her old shoes on instead. That's why a person really shouldn't buy shoes for Pete unless Pete is with you, but even then it won't matter.

Saturday I am on the hunt for a short and slutty jean skirt to wear to church next weekend (my church rocks! more about this later, probably), and I recalled seeing jean skirts at that store with the talking mannequins. The skirts were too conservative and cost too much to buy one and alter it, but Pete found these really awesome canvas sneakers with peace signs on them on sale. Even though she actually needs some sneakers, I resisted buying them because I believed they would be an excuse for a school-morning, pre-bus meltdown. She tried them on, though, and promised that she would wear them and not freak out, and I bought them. Dummy.

Monday Pete put on her butterfly dress and tie-dye leggings and some socks while I cut the tags off her shoes. Her new, super-cool shoes. That she had promised she would wear if, "Please Mommy? Can [she] have them?" Really it was just downhill from there. I don't want to tell the rest of the story...

Quick Summary Pete got on the bus with tear-stained cheeks and her old beat up boots on. Husbandguy left for work with a bag with the shoes and a receipt in it. I considered telling Pete that "Daddy took the shoes back on his lunchhour," which will be true, but being Bel, I will probably actually say, "I asked Daddy to..." Then I will be in trouble for 30 minutes. But we won't have to fight about those shoes again.

I really don't know what to do about this. She can't wear her boots everywhere!

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Use This Word Today

Pete came up with cross between confused and puzzled, and I'm going to try to use it a lot...


Thursday, February 4, 2010

Wednesday, February 3, 2010


Pete's comedy gene is kicking in, I think. She has said several clever and original things recently that made me laugh. Let's see if they translate well secondhand...

Last night at dinner, Pete shared one of her sweet potato fries with Lulu, who hadn't liked them the last time she'd tried them. This time, though, she took a bite, chewed, and then triumphantly declared, "I swallowed it!" Being silly people, Husbandguy and I said alarming things like, "Oh no! Why would you do that?!" and "Now what are we going to do?!" and "You're not supposed to swallow them!" (haha - we're funny - haha) But Pete had the best one. She said, "I'm not swallowing them. I just chew on them for flavor and then hide them under my tongue..." :D

Then this morning, Pete was interviewing the dog (we really are very silly here sometimes), and when she asked her what her name was I said things like, "Norbit" and "Luther," and Pete commented each time to Abby saying things like, "Norbit? That's an unusual name," and stuff. Then I noticed it was almost time for the bus to come so I said, "Ten minutes..." and Pete said to Abby, "Your name is Ten Minutes? You must be a watch dog!" :D

There was one more clever thing just recently, but I can't remember it right now. I'll post it later if I think of it.

Her great-granddad (after whom she is named) would be proud, I think...

Monday, February 1, 2010

Pete Says:

Yesterday I did something a little different when I cleaned the toilets.

Later in the evening, Pete came up to me, clearly concerned, and said, "Mom? My pee is blue..."

(On the plus side, I know that she knows that she can talk to me about anything!)
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