Monday, January 25, 2010
Pretty
I was back in the office today. I got to dress up in heels and a fancy blouse. Felt like a totally different person!
Of course, day 1 back after a 9 month absence (I work seasonally) is always nerve-wracking. This is my third season with the company. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, the same spiel to endless clients all day long. But, as always, I stammered through my first client interview. He probably thought I was a newbie fresh off the boat. Of course, we also have new software this year that everyone is getting used to, so we're all sounding a bit like stammering idiots. At least I felt confident in my purple heels.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Killer instincts?
At just shy of 24 months, Elliot started daycare for the first time. He'd had group play experience before. His first day, he ran off to play with the toys, not caring if we were there or not. It took a week or 2 before he started showing an interest in participating in circle time or showing emotion - the teachers commented the first time he hugged them and when he started to laugh.
They asked me if he had social issues.
I signed multiple incident reports while he was in the toddler room - biting, hitting, pushing other kids. He'd pick on the little ones. The new ones. He was a modern day (and non-discriminatory) Georgie Porgie. He'd kiss anyone and make them cry - mostly by the rough hug that knocked them down.
Yesterday, when picking him up from the preschool room at the same daycare, the teacher voiced the concern that he's not showing remorse. Now, I don't know how much remorse a 3 year old can actually show, but I would think/expect that he understands when he does something he shouldn't (ie: hurt someone, deliberately) that he'll be in trouble and they'll be sad, but it's as if he doesn't even care.
Add to this the fact that he's been reluctant to complete potty training - his teachers are, again, concerned, because he either doesn't recognize the urge to have a bowel movement until it's happening, or he just doesn't care. He is about 90% accident free when it comes to peeing, but only about 2% of the time will he actually poop on the potty/toilet. Those times were accidental, I think.
So... how much of this is normal for his age range and how much is cause for concern/intervention? With the potty training, I don't know what to try next. Right now, we have a sticker chart going: for every 10 pees and 2 poops caught, we'll go shopping for a new puzzle. He's on pee 15, I think, but only 1 poop. I've started putting him back in pull ups at daycare on the days I suspect he'll poop.
I'm tired of it all. And I'm tired of his rough behaviour with Felix. Elliot hates Time Outs, but they're still not effective. And I hate that today, when I picked up Felix from his 5th day at daycare, they told me he was having issues with "rough hugging". He was knocking the kids down (and collapsing on top of them). For him, he thinks this is normal behaviour.
Gah! I know I've blogged about this before, but it's just such a persistent problem. And I must find an answer. I don't want my boy to grow up to be a serial killer.
They asked me if he had social issues.
I signed multiple incident reports while he was in the toddler room - biting, hitting, pushing other kids. He'd pick on the little ones. The new ones. He was a modern day (and non-discriminatory) Georgie Porgie. He'd kiss anyone and make them cry - mostly by the rough hug that knocked them down.
Yesterday, when picking him up from the preschool room at the same daycare, the teacher voiced the concern that he's not showing remorse. Now, I don't know how much remorse a 3 year old can actually show, but I would think/expect that he understands when he does something he shouldn't (ie: hurt someone, deliberately) that he'll be in trouble and they'll be sad, but it's as if he doesn't even care.
Add to this the fact that he's been reluctant to complete potty training - his teachers are, again, concerned, because he either doesn't recognize the urge to have a bowel movement until it's happening, or he just doesn't care. He is about 90% accident free when it comes to peeing, but only about 2% of the time will he actually poop on the potty/toilet. Those times were accidental, I think.
So... how much of this is normal for his age range and how much is cause for concern/intervention? With the potty training, I don't know what to try next. Right now, we have a sticker chart going: for every 10 pees and 2 poops caught, we'll go shopping for a new puzzle. He's on pee 15, I think, but only 1 poop. I've started putting him back in pull ups at daycare on the days I suspect he'll poop.
I'm tired of it all. And I'm tired of his rough behaviour with Felix. Elliot hates Time Outs, but they're still not effective. And I hate that today, when I picked up Felix from his 5th day at daycare, they told me he was having issues with "rough hugging". He was knocking the kids down (and collapsing on top of them). For him, he thinks this is normal behaviour.
Gah! I know I've blogged about this before, but it's just such a persistent problem. And I must find an answer. I don't want my boy to grow up to be a serial killer.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Thunderbolts and lightening
So, I've been baking a lot lately. Experimenting with new mixtures and enjoying old standbys. Tonight's supper was no different. I peeled, chopped up and spiced 2 sweet potatoes to make fries.
Ok, ok, hold up. Before I go on, you need some back story. The boys had me up a lot last night and super early this morning. I'm exhausted and loopy from too little sleep and too much caffeine. I've been having dizzy spells and lots of forgetfulness, which had only been getting worse as the day progressed.
....And continue.
So, I'd put the fries in the oven at 5pm and told myself not to forget. At 5:09, I saw the time and thought about flipping them, but figured I'd give them another 5 minutes. At 5:20, I suddenly remembered and urged Jay, who was closer to the oven, to check them. He did and reported that they were fine, but they seemed undercooked, especially for the length of time they'd been in. I did have them in at a lower heat than usual, so we turned it up a bit. Not 5 minutes later, Jay turned around to see an orange glow in the oven. I started to panic.
Have I mentioned my irrational fear of fire? Or that alarms, like the fire alarm, give me a panic attack? And it took me YEARS to get used to the idea of a slow cooker. The first few times I used the crockpot we got for our wedding, I made sure I was home ALL DAY LONG. Just in case. And I only ever turn it on when it's on top of the stove with nothing else around it. Just in case.
Anyway, Jay opened the oven for a closer look and the orange glow took on a white look and then there were pretty (in hindsight) fireworks. In my oven. By this point, I was by our front door, ready to wave a mat at the smoke detector if it started beeping. And I was yelling to Jay to turn off the oven. He did, and the fireworks display stopped immediately.
I stood there, waving my mat, shaking and in tears for a few minutes, trying to compose myself. Jay took another look and said that it was a fried element, not a grease fire like I initially thought. (I've been meaning to clean the bottom of the oven for a few weeks now. It's pretty grimy.)
In a high, shaky voice, I matter-of-factly asked if he thought all we'd need would be a new elephant. Once we stopped laughing, I tried again. Would we need a whole new stove? Then I started crying again.
What a nervous wreck I am! Jeesh! And you know what? The smoke detector never did go off. Of course, we had windows open and I was fanning it like my life depended on it. Which it did.
So later, after supper (which was yummy - the fries were just done enough) I called Sears, where the oven was purchased more than 8 years ago by the previous owners of our house. End result: A technician will be out this Tuesday, sometime between 8am and 7:30pm, to assess and hopefully replace the element on the spot. (Thankfully, they should call on Monday to significantly narrow down that time frame!)
I am very, very glad Jay was home when it happened. My god, what if he hadn't been? Not sure I would have known what to do... probably run for the door? Maybe I'd have remembered to scoop up the boys first?? I like to think I can keep my cool in an emergency (and usually I can, I swear!) but I guess when it deals with my very real (and stupid and often irrational) fears, common sense takes a vacation. Like, if I opened the oven and it was shooting fireworks like that and spilling out a whole bunch of slithering snakes... well, then I'd just die. On the spot.
Ok, enough!!!!
Ok, ok, hold up. Before I go on, you need some back story. The boys had me up a lot last night and super early this morning. I'm exhausted and loopy from too little sleep and too much caffeine. I've been having dizzy spells and lots of forgetfulness, which had only been getting worse as the day progressed.
....And continue.
So, I'd put the fries in the oven at 5pm and told myself not to forget. At 5:09, I saw the time and thought about flipping them, but figured I'd give them another 5 minutes. At 5:20, I suddenly remembered and urged Jay, who was closer to the oven, to check them. He did and reported that they were fine, but they seemed undercooked, especially for the length of time they'd been in. I did have them in at a lower heat than usual, so we turned it up a bit. Not 5 minutes later, Jay turned around to see an orange glow in the oven. I started to panic.
Have I mentioned my irrational fear of fire? Or that alarms, like the fire alarm, give me a panic attack? And it took me YEARS to get used to the idea of a slow cooker. The first few times I used the crockpot we got for our wedding, I made sure I was home ALL DAY LONG. Just in case. And I only ever turn it on when it's on top of the stove with nothing else around it. Just in case.
Anyway, Jay opened the oven for a closer look and the orange glow took on a white look and then there were pretty (in hindsight) fireworks. In my oven. By this point, I was by our front door, ready to wave a mat at the smoke detector if it started beeping. And I was yelling to Jay to turn off the oven. He did, and the fireworks display stopped immediately.
I stood there, waving my mat, shaking and in tears for a few minutes, trying to compose myself. Jay took another look and said that it was a fried element, not a grease fire like I initially thought. (I've been meaning to clean the bottom of the oven for a few weeks now. It's pretty grimy.)
In a high, shaky voice, I matter-of-factly asked if he thought all we'd need would be a new elephant. Once we stopped laughing, I tried again. Would we need a whole new stove? Then I started crying again.
What a nervous wreck I am! Jeesh! And you know what? The smoke detector never did go off. Of course, we had windows open and I was fanning it like my life depended on it. Which it did.
So later, after supper (which was yummy - the fries were just done enough) I called Sears, where the oven was purchased more than 8 years ago by the previous owners of our house. End result: A technician will be out this Tuesday, sometime between 8am and 7:30pm, to assess and hopefully replace the element on the spot. (Thankfully, they should call on Monday to significantly narrow down that time frame!)
I am very, very glad Jay was home when it happened. My god, what if he hadn't been? Not sure I would have known what to do... probably run for the door? Maybe I'd have remembered to scoop up the boys first?? I like to think I can keep my cool in an emergency (and usually I can, I swear!) but I guess when it deals with my very real (and stupid and often irrational) fears, common sense takes a vacation. Like, if I opened the oven and it was shooting fireworks like that and spilling out a whole bunch of slithering snakes... well, then I'd just die. On the spot.
Ok, enough!!!!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Dishes
Yesterday Elliot helped load the dishwasher. He was in charge of the cutlery. And he passed me all the bowls and mugs, one by one. Then he dragged a chair over and put all the pots & pans into the sink of sudsy water. Then he rinsed them as I washed them, using the sprayer ( A HUGE hit!) and put them in the basket to dry. Then we refilled the sink and he put all the sippy cups and kids' bowls into the water. SPLASH! Then he grabbed a bowl from under the cupboard while we put the pots and pans away and ran off to fill it with his little animals. And then he requested his own container of soapy water and a cloth so he could give the animals all a bath. And he amused himself on the floor doing just that while I finished the dishes and started prepping for supper.
Today, he's tearing apart the sofa and making a fort while simultaneously watching TV and pitching unwanted cushions at Felix's screaming head.
Ahhhhh, home life! I'm currently enjoying some down time and sipping the last dregs of coffee and wondering what to make everyone for breakfast.
Today, he's tearing apart the sofa and making a fort while simultaneously watching TV and pitching unwanted cushions at Felix's screaming head.
Ahhhhh, home life! I'm currently enjoying some down time and sipping the last dregs of coffee and wondering what to make everyone for breakfast.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Decade the Next
(Format brazenly stolen from bethsix - thanks!)
December 31st, 1999
-Dinner with friends at the now long-gone fancy La Cave restaurant in a tiny little red dress (which I still own) and strappy red patent heels (also long gone.)
-Party with more friends late into the night on Kent Street, across the hall from where my now husband lived. Yes, he was at the party. And no, we weren't together.
This Decade
-Dated and married Jay
-Bought a house
-Created and birthed 2 wonderful boys
-Went from selling shoes to telemarketing to bookkeeping and office management
-Changed careers again and became a tax associate for H&R Block
-Jay also made a career change: from graphic design to stop motion animation to computer animation
Decade the Next
-Move outside of the city, to a larger home in a wooded area
-Buy a car!
-Raise our boys to ages 11 & 13 - oh lord!
-Lose 30 lbs, get back into working out, and start liking who I see in the mirror again.
-Take a honeymoon or 2, finally.
-Write a novel.
December 31st, 1999
-Dinner with friends at the now long-gone fancy La Cave restaurant in a tiny little red dress (which I still own) and strappy red patent heels (also long gone.)
-Party with more friends late into the night on Kent Street, across the hall from where my now husband lived. Yes, he was at the party. And no, we weren't together.
This Decade
-Dated and married Jay
-Bought a house
-Created and birthed 2 wonderful boys
-Went from selling shoes to telemarketing to bookkeeping and office management
-Changed careers again and became a tax associate for H&R Block
-Jay also made a career change: from graphic design to stop motion animation to computer animation
Decade the Next
-Move outside of the city, to a larger home in a wooded area
-Buy a car!
-Raise our boys to ages 11 & 13 - oh lord!
-Lose 30 lbs, get back into working out, and start liking who I see in the mirror again.
-Take a honeymoon or 2, finally.
-Write a novel.
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