Mary Lou Who?

This is going to be a sugary brag, so brace yourselves.

This morning at gymnastics, Kathy asked me, "WHEN does she (meaning Ainslie) turn 3?"

I told her June--she won't even be 2.5 until this Sunday. Kathy says, "Wow--well when she's 3, as long as she has the maturity to behave, I think she can skip KinderGym 1 and go straight to 2--she's already got half the skills for KinderGym 2"

KinderGym 1 and 2 are for 3 and 4-yr olds, respectively. My little gymnast may be skipping a grade in gymnastics!

She really loves it, too. Who knows if she'll stick with it, but for now, it's great for large motor skills as well as learning to take turns, think about safety (running around the gym, jumping OVER the practice beam when someone else is using it...) and to respect the efforts and triumphs of her classmates.

I'm so proud!

Fun--thanks Annie!

I stole this link from your blog, Annie.

You Belong in London

You belong in London, but you belong in many cities... Hong Kong, San Francisco, Sidney. You fit in almost anywhere. And London is diverse and international enough to satisfy many of your tastes. From curry to Shakespeare, London (almost) has it all!

What European City Do You Belong In?

Oh, the things I said I'd never do

1. Purchase Licensed Character Merchandise
Caved: 15 months. Ainslie needed her first pair of 'real' tennis shoes for playing and I resolved to buy some nice generic-ey ones --until she charmed me with shrieking, "Mehlmo Zhues!" in the Toddler Shoe aisle at Kohls. It was so cute. Elmo Shoes it had to be. Since then, we have had Dora and Tinkerbell.

2. Lick my finger and dab the face.
Caved: Shortly after birth, I'm sure.

3. Willingly feed a child McDonalds
Caved: When I realized she would do anything for a french fry. Now it's even worse. I bought her a McDonalds fake food set (which also violates #1) for a stocking stuffer. Why? Because I know she'll get a kick out of it. It encourages pretend play, right?

4. Get into Disney.
Caved: I can't even remember. I think that sneaky Disney marketing just got to Ainslie, despite the fact that she doesn't watch that much tv, and virtually no commercials.

5. Get a dvd player for the car.
Caved: Friday. I realized earlier this year that it isn't even about entertaining the child(ren); it's about protecting the sanity of the parents on long trips.

I'm sure the list will only get longer.

57 days until our vacation

But who's counting?

I'm hanging on to this because I am hopeful that after we look forward to it for so long, then go and come home, our house will have sold and we can focus on moving, thereby avoiding serious clinical depression.

I will miss Ainslie terribly. I will worry. I might cry.

BUT

I will sleep past 6:30 am.
I will read books without pictures.
I will probably gain 10 pounds because I only have to feed myself.
I will not blow on anyone's food.
I will get ready to go somewhere (like to another buffet) in less than an hour and a half.
I will have conversations with Craig and other adults that do not include shouted interjections about climbing, jumping, yelling, or riding the dog.
I will nap.
I will wear makeup.
I will drink. Probably more than is prudent.
I will engage in adult activity without being paged, loudly.

Ah. I will miss my sweet, funny little girl, but today I am counting 57 days.

One slight edit to the post below

I should have told nosy people to back off, regardless of their work/parenting status. :-)

On the other side of the (de)fense

My mom is patently (if subconciously) prejudiced against mothers who choose to work outside of the home. I don't need to watch Dr. Phil to surmise that this is largely because she never did (and never had a "career" because she never finished college and feels somewhat inadequate or whatever about that...but mother/daughter issues are a completely different rant.) She will say things about So-and-So having a large house or taking fancy vacations, and then qualify it with, "Of course, she *worked* (as if the work in question was prostitution) when her kids were growing up." When I mention preschool or some part-time daycare for Ainslie so that I can take on more work, I am met with, "oh, but you'll miss SO much" ...and I am talking 6 hours a week.

Anyhoo. I am not thusly prejudiced. I think we all just do the best we can for our children. Some moms are better moms for working out of the home, some are better at home. I'm thrilled to be able to work on my terms right now.

BUT.

File this under, "Why can't people who have no idea keep their big mouths shut?"
OR
"Why on earth does this bother me so much?"

Lately, I been feeling the reverse SAHM discrimination. Why on earth don't I work and how could I deprive my child of 40 hours of daycare a week? Despite the fact that I DO work about 20 hours a week in my field, I suppose the usual uniform of yoga pants and solid long-sleeved tees give me that Mommy Chic (or NOT) look, so people assume I am a FT SAHM, which is a FINE job description by itself. Why then, if I am FT SAHM would I be dropping off some assignments for students at the college I teach at?

URGH. So here comes today's real story. I had to drop off some tests for two students to make up. I don't teach on Mondays. I run errands and work out on Mondays (because I have no home to clean, etc). I am with Ainslie all day on Mondays. So, I arrived at the building wearing black yoga pants, a shirt, and a zipped-up fleece jacket, hair and face looking ok (not Totally Done but not Just Rolled out of Bed), holding Ainslie's hand and carrying the papers. Ainslie, by the way, had chosen a dress with matching tights and her hair was Done. (She always looks better than I do.) ANYWAY, the women working in the resource center today was probably a full-time faculty member (big whoop, btw, this isn't exactly Ivy League) and after I explained what I was dropping off, she turned to Ainslie and asked her where she went to school. Ainslie said, "I don't go to school yet." very clearly--Ainslie knows about school and that she will go to preschool and then Big School someday.
This woman says, in a very condescending voice, "You don't? How do you learn?" I said, "well, she is not even 2 and a half yet. She learns from me." So then the woman drones on about, "do you go to daycare to play with friends?" "it's so important at this age to play with other kids." "Do you have friends, honey?" Ainslie responds with, "I have my friend Cawowine, and Anna, and..." But I was already completely annoyed. Pardon my French, but WTF?

WHEN did going to daycare become the preferred activity? WHO decided daycare is better than parents? Who did this woman think she was, passive-agressively questioning my choices to my 2-yr old, when she knows nothing about me or Ainslie?


Ainslie will probably go to preschool. For now, she knows a heck of a lot more academically than most other kids her age I've met. She rides a trike and a scooter like a pro, she holds a crayon *almost* the right way, and she can sit cross-legged, that benchmark of preschool skills. She sight-reads quite a few words, she knows how to share (not that she does it), she pretends a lot, she gallops, she...well, not being in daycare doesn't appear to have hindered her.

So, Moms who work outside of the home, BACK OFF. I was once one of you--I support you and your choice, but until you know MY child and her gifts, abilities and schedule, SHUT UP. Apparently, way back when, SOME preschools didn't put enough emphasis on polite conversation.

Pride goeth before Santa Claus

I had one of those, "I'm so proud of my daughter and today I feel I am doing a good job with her" moments as we strolled past a large nativity display in that ultimate Stuffmart, Sam's Club. "Look Mommy, it's Jesus!" Ainslie exclaimed. My heart swelled. Despite the fact that we have put off finding a church home until we get moved, she is learning about God. The Veggie Tales, the songs, the books and the talking are working. Hooray! I was beaming. She gets it!

Three aisles later..."Look Mommy! It's Santa Claus!"

Did you hear my bubble pop?

We'll get it figured out. Hey, I like Santa too, and there is a lot of good to be learned from believing in the guy with the beard.

Jabberwocky

First, let me just state a disclaimer: I know how blessed and lucky I am to have Ainslie; a child in general, and Ainslie in particular. This is not a complaint. It may be a cry for help, or at least, a cry.

For all my exclaiming about her perfection over the past 29 months, I have, sadly, found a chink in her armour. She did not come factory eqipped with an Indoor Voice or an Off Button. The child's normal voice is a quiet scream, and she uses it approximately 12 hours a day, which translates roughly to Every Waking Moment.

Now, she says some amazing and hilarious things---she remembers everything and also has the ability to synthesize information into new thoughts and put things together with logic and say all sorts of things that just astound me. She is also very adept at narrating the events around us to a harrowing degree of minutia. She also monitors my response like a drill sergeant; if I don't respond immediately to a comment about the red car next to us, I am met with a frantic, "MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! DERE'S A WED CAR WIGHT NEXT TO US! EE IT? EE IT?"

Then there is the endless Pretend Play. Again, I AM thrilled that she is so good at this for her age, I mean, I can tell she knows what is real and what is pretend, but she will carry her games over so they overlap with reality, in almost a tongue-in-cheek way. For instance, she knows the Disney Princesses are wearing thin with me, so we'll be out somewhere and she'll mention they came too, but in their own car. The trouble here is that once we start using pixie dust to dance or fly, we aren't allowed to stop. For anything.

Who knew how exhausting it could be just to hear someone talk all day? By the time she goes to bed I am zapped. I want complete silence. TV doesn't even offer any sort of soothing. I just want some peace.

Again, this isn't really a complaint--I would much rather be here than be worried that my child wasn't speaking or having pretend play. I guess I'm just looking for a little commiseration, and a little reassurance that this too, will pass, and someday I'll want her to talk to me so bad that I'd endure all those princesses being around.

BOO!

Thought I'd post some pictures of our Halloween festivities...
Saturday morning we went to the Farmer's Market parade, where we met up with Caroline and Samantha. It was freezing, so after some pictures at home, we had to put on a jacket under the M&M suit.




















Sunday afternoon we went to Zoolie Ghoulie at the zoo here (and I use the term Zoo loosely, lol, they had goats...) It was a really fun event, though--they had 23 Trick-or-Treat stations throughout the zoo. It was still chilly, so we added a pumpkin hat to the ensemble.

Then, the big event--Trick or Treating. We headed out for a little loop as soon as it got darkish, and Ainslie had been practicing, so she had the process down pat.
"Trick or Treat"
"Thank You."
"Can we go to anudder house?"

After collecting more candy than we need, we headed home to wait for Ben and hand out candy, which was just as exciting to Ainslie as Trick or Treating; she loved seeing all the kids at the door and was adamant that she stay in costume to man the door. Here are some pictures of the cousins enjoying some Halloween time:
















All in all, a fun weekend; mostly because Ainslie is old enough to enjoy dressing up and taking part in the different activites. Hope you all had a "Happy Haddoween" too!