Boodle has had two outings recently that solidify my opinion that she's a tomboy. Princess/ballet outfits aside, she seems to be much more comfortable with boys than with girls.
She was invited to a birthday party by a boy from last year's class, and she was one of only two girls there. I thought it might be awkward for her, but she was immediately in the pool, gunning the boys down with a water cannon. She had no problem keeping up, fitting in, getting involved with unfamiliar kids. It wasn't until the last 15 minutes that she even interacted with the girl.
Three days later, there's a birthday party at the park, and the first half hour was spent trying to negotiate playing with 4 girls who couldn't just go and PLAY already. They had to talk/argue about each aspect of what they were doing. Then, more boys showed up, and she was off to play with them, leaving the girls in the dust.
I get her. I truly get her. She's such an emotional kid, and I don't mean she's constantly running from one emotion to another. She's really attuned to OTHER'S emotions. She gets nuances, subtleties, and undercurrents, even if she can't identify them. She watches people, and listens, even when you don't think she does. I can tell she gets exhausted from trying to sort out all the girls' issues and dynamics, when all she wants to do is freakin' GET ON WITH IT.
Boys, not so subtle. Not so nuanced. They say what they mean, mean what they say. And they don't waste a lot of time talking about everything. They just wanna run around and shoot people and blow things up. Awesome. So, we'll be setting up more playdates with the boys.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
My Girls' Brains
Two things occurred recently that struck me as interesting about my kids and how their brains work:
1. Loodle is obsessed with when Fall is going to start. Not because she's waiting for seasons to change. Not because she's a Niner's fan and can't wait for Monday Night Football. Not because her birthday is coming up. She's obsessed because we have adopted a Katydid from our backyard, brought it inside, and ensconced it in a big pretzel tub. After doing some research on how to care for our new pet, The Man discovered that Katydids hatch in the spring, and die in the fall, and proceeded to share this with the family. We are all about honesty regarding death in our family. Nobody's pet goes to a farm, and Grandpa's not sleeping somewhere, so she knows what's gonna happen. She's now asked me every day this week when fall starts, and when told, bursts into tears, because she's convinced that Sunday is D-Day for Katy (yes, we named the Katydid "Katy"-we're THAT stupid). I have told her each time that it won't happen on that day, but to no avail. My luck, Katy actually WILL kick the bucket on Sunday.
2. Boodle brought home her folder full of completed work for the week, including some quizzes taken during class. One of the language quizzes involved reading a 4 paragraph story and answering some reading comprehension questions. This story was about a girl starting her first day of school, being nervous, being welcomed by her classmates and then becoming glad. If you've met my daughter, this is her worst nightmare scenario. She hates going into new situations, and gets REALLY nervous on the first day of anything. So, here's question number 3:
"What is this story mostly about? A. A girl's first day at a new school. B. A girl gets really nervous. C. A girl meets students in her class."
Yeah, she picked B and got it wrong. I'm tempted to bring it up in the PTC in October. For her, that IS what the story is mostly about. Bad question, bad question.
1. Loodle is obsessed with when Fall is going to start. Not because she's waiting for seasons to change. Not because she's a Niner's fan and can't wait for Monday Night Football. Not because her birthday is coming up. She's obsessed because we have adopted a Katydid from our backyard, brought it inside, and ensconced it in a big pretzel tub. After doing some research on how to care for our new pet, The Man discovered that Katydids hatch in the spring, and die in the fall, and proceeded to share this with the family. We are all about honesty regarding death in our family. Nobody's pet goes to a farm, and Grandpa's not sleeping somewhere, so she knows what's gonna happen. She's now asked me every day this week when fall starts, and when told, bursts into tears, because she's convinced that Sunday is D-Day for Katy (yes, we named the Katydid "Katy"-we're THAT stupid). I have told her each time that it won't happen on that day, but to no avail. My luck, Katy actually WILL kick the bucket on Sunday.
2. Boodle brought home her folder full of completed work for the week, including some quizzes taken during class. One of the language quizzes involved reading a 4 paragraph story and answering some reading comprehension questions. This story was about a girl starting her first day of school, being nervous, being welcomed by her classmates and then becoming glad. If you've met my daughter, this is her worst nightmare scenario. She hates going into new situations, and gets REALLY nervous on the first day of anything. So, here's question number 3:
"What is this story mostly about? A. A girl's first day at a new school. B. A girl gets really nervous. C. A girl meets students in her class."
Yeah, she picked B and got it wrong. I'm tempted to bring it up in the PTC in October. For her, that IS what the story is mostly about. Bad question, bad question.
Libby Lu Must Die
Went to the "new" mall, as Alannah calls it, with both girls for a Friday night outing. We stopped by this store called Club Libby Lu. They specialize in girly items for tweens, and parties which can only be described as "Pimp My Child". After watching two girls, who had been slutted up by the party attendant with makeup, glitter and colorful hair extensions, do a Hannah Montana singing/dancing routine at the entrance of the store, youngest girl asks if she can have her birthday party there. Oh. My. God. Please save me from the next 13 years of hell. In no uncertain terms I explained that this kind of thing was WAY too old for her, and even for her sister. They don't get it yet, but I'm fighting desperately to keep them innocent children instead of tarted up airheads for as long as possible. Libby Lu must die.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Dog Owner for a Day
This morning I was taking the trash out to the curb (thanks Mark), and a big yellow lab came up and leaned against me and begged to be petted. I looked around for an owner, and no one was around. Dog followed me into the garage and shadowed me as I took out the recycling. After more petting, I checked his tags and found the phone number. Called the owner, and she was grateful, but couldn't come to get the dog until 2:30pm, and could I put him in my back yard until then.
My initial reaction was, come get your damn dog! I don't want to deal with this. In my defense, I was already late for the gym, and didn't want any more hassles. After inquiring as to the digging abilities of her dog, and being told that he won't dig but will pretty much just sit around (oooookay), I agreed to keep him. Dog accompanied me to the back yard, where I set him up in the shade on our back porch with a giant bowl of ice cold water, and left him to do his will.
I left for the gym, all the while worrying about this silly dog that isn't even mine. Didn't stop me from going out to lunch and doing some shopping, but I worried WHILE I was doing this. Came back at 2:50pm, and he was still there. Went out to pet him, and he got a little riled up and tried to jump on me and keep me outside. I beat a hasty retreat, and opened some windows so he could look in and see us. That seemed to make him happy, so we went about our business.
The neighbor came by after 3pm and picked him up, apologizing all the while. Youngest daughter asked me on the way to the gym, "Since we let that dog stay in our backyard, I think we're ready to get a dog." Yeah. I'm pretty sure 4 hours of absentee dogsitting qualifies us for pet ownership.
My initial reaction was, come get your damn dog! I don't want to deal with this. In my defense, I was already late for the gym, and didn't want any more hassles. After inquiring as to the digging abilities of her dog, and being told that he won't dig but will pretty much just sit around (oooookay), I agreed to keep him. Dog accompanied me to the back yard, where I set him up in the shade on our back porch with a giant bowl of ice cold water, and left him to do his will.
I left for the gym, all the while worrying about this silly dog that isn't even mine. Didn't stop me from going out to lunch and doing some shopping, but I worried WHILE I was doing this. Came back at 2:50pm, and he was still there. Went out to pet him, and he got a little riled up and tried to jump on me and keep me outside. I beat a hasty retreat, and opened some windows so he could look in and see us. That seemed to make him happy, so we went about our business.
The neighbor came by after 3pm and picked him up, apologizing all the while. Youngest daughter asked me on the way to the gym, "Since we let that dog stay in our backyard, I think we're ready to get a dog." Yeah. I'm pretty sure 4 hours of absentee dogsitting qualifies us for pet ownership.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
When Did Resisting Cops Become OK?
First off, I'm sorry to all those families out there whose loved one died after being tasered by cops. I DO think there's gotta be a better way to subdue someone instead of shocking them, and potentially causing heart failure.
HOWEVER, when did it become reasonable in someone's mind to resist arrest? How did we turn that corner? If a police officer tells me to get on the ground, I'm probably going to injure myself in my haste to comply. I'm thinking I'll avail myself of legal avenues after I do what the man with a club, gun, taser, handcuffs, and lethal force training tells me to do. I just don't understand how that guy at the John Kerry thing can be told multiple times to leave, the cops come to escort him, he throws a hissy fit, gets tasered, and suddenly he becomes the victim. Guy running the forum says stop. Cops say stop. You don't stop. You get stopped. Duh. It looks now like he staged it, but this is not the first story.
Where has our healthy respect for authority gone? Don't give me that police brutality/corruption line. Those incidents are NOT the norm. Cop tells me what to do, I do it and raise hell later if I feel they were unjust. Same applies to kids in school who don't agree with rules set by the school. They know the rule, they disagree with the rule, they break the rule, and then cry foul when they receive the punishment. A story a while back about immigration-supporting kids who were not allowed to go to prom because they skipped a day to protest, or wore a flag or something, after SPECIFICALLY being told that those actions would lead to that consequence. I was ready to scream. Support your cause with some intelligence and passion, and I'll give you respect. Don't do it in a way that makes me think you're an idiot. Whooee I'm in a mood.
HOWEVER, when did it become reasonable in someone's mind to resist arrest? How did we turn that corner? If a police officer tells me to get on the ground, I'm probably going to injure myself in my haste to comply. I'm thinking I'll avail myself of legal avenues after I do what the man with a club, gun, taser, handcuffs, and lethal force training tells me to do. I just don't understand how that guy at the John Kerry thing can be told multiple times to leave, the cops come to escort him, he throws a hissy fit, gets tasered, and suddenly he becomes the victim. Guy running the forum says stop. Cops say stop. You don't stop. You get stopped. Duh. It looks now like he staged it, but this is not the first story.
Where has our healthy respect for authority gone? Don't give me that police brutality/corruption line. Those incidents are NOT the norm. Cop tells me what to do, I do it and raise hell later if I feel they were unjust. Same applies to kids in school who don't agree with rules set by the school. They know the rule, they disagree with the rule, they break the rule, and then cry foul when they receive the punishment. A story a while back about immigration-supporting kids who were not allowed to go to prom because they skipped a day to protest, or wore a flag or something, after SPECIFICALLY being told that those actions would lead to that consequence. I was ready to scream. Support your cause with some intelligence and passion, and I'll give you respect. Don't do it in a way that makes me think you're an idiot. Whooee I'm in a mood.
Now THAT'S a Commute
I was going to comment on (read: bitch about) how Boodle's school is just a little too far to walk to, especially in the Texas heat, and we have to sit in that endless carpool line every day. Now, after seeing this article, I'm going to shut my fat mouth and count my blessings.
http://www.ananova.com/news/story/sm_2512456.html
http://www.ananova.com/news/story/sm_2512456.html
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Mom, I Noticed You're Kind of Different
Today was the day of Jekyl and Hyde children. We woke up at the crack of 9am (this on the first day of trying to ramp Boodle back to 7am wakeup for school), ate breakfast at 10am, and proceeded to futz around the house for 4.5 hours. The plan was to spend 10 minutes (10 MINUTES!!!!!) cleaning the girls' bedroom, and then go to lunch and play at Inflatable Wonderland, then off to buy school supplies.
Part of the 4.5 hours was spent with me explaining how short 10 minutes actually was. Part of the time was spent by them delaying the dreaded 10 minutes by starting an art project. Fine by me. I started cleaning out my office. Part of the time was spent explaining that they now had to clean the art project up on top of the 10 minute cleaning marathon of their room. The next part was spent by me yelling at the top of my lungs that I no longer cared what they wanted to do. The next to last part of the time was spent explaining how it was so late and I was so mad that we were indeed not going to Inflatable Wonderland, but they still had to clean their room. The last part of the time was spent with the kids finally deciding that it was fun to do "speed cleaning" and got their entire room clean (without shoving everything into the closet or under the bed) in less than 10 minutes. For crying out loud.
So, after lunch and school supply shopping, putting together an office chair, and another art project (in the newly clean and irresistable office), we go out to dinner. My choice, ha ha, and we have a lovely time at Salsarita. On the way home I announce we are stopping at The Market in Steiner Ranch to get ice cream. Big Girl pauses and says, "Mom, I noticed you're kind of different. You're like a lot happier." I snort, and proceed to explain the correlation between their good behavior and my good humor. It was so perfect.
Part of the 4.5 hours was spent with me explaining how short 10 minutes actually was. Part of the time was spent by them delaying the dreaded 10 minutes by starting an art project. Fine by me. I started cleaning out my office. Part of the time was spent explaining that they now had to clean the art project up on top of the 10 minute cleaning marathon of their room. The next part was spent by me yelling at the top of my lungs that I no longer cared what they wanted to do. The next to last part of the time was spent explaining how it was so late and I was so mad that we were indeed not going to Inflatable Wonderland, but they still had to clean their room. The last part of the time was spent with the kids finally deciding that it was fun to do "speed cleaning" and got their entire room clean (without shoving everything into the closet or under the bed) in less than 10 minutes. For crying out loud.
So, after lunch and school supply shopping, putting together an office chair, and another art project (in the newly clean and irresistable office), we go out to dinner. My choice, ha ha, and we have a lovely time at Salsarita. On the way home I announce we are stopping at The Market in Steiner Ranch to get ice cream. Big Girl pauses and says, "Mom, I noticed you're kind of different. You're like a lot happier." I snort, and proceed to explain the correlation between their good behavior and my good humor. It was so perfect.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Chick-Fil-A Rules
I love Chick-Fil-A. I don't particularly love their food, but I love the company. Loodle and I went for lunch today. The biggest reason they rule is for having one of the only indoor play structures in Austin. All others bake in the sun until they're approximately the same temp as the surface of the sun. This one is pleasantly air conditioned, clean, and small enough that if I have to wrangle a wayward child, I won't have to crawl from here to Dallas to get to her.
Another reason: they hold Christian values. I know, some people are rolling their eyes, but I love that about them. Every location closes on Sunday, their employees came around and chatted with folks, asking how things were, and as I was sitting there today watching YD play, I listened to some GOOD contemporary Christian music. I've been in stores or the mall several times, and heard either AWFUL music, or lyrics that I am praying my kids aren't picking up.
Last reason is the great conversation that I had with an old couple sitting next to us. I know, that has nothing to do with Chick-Fil-A, but I figure that since their company rules, that is what drew the neat old couple in the first place. They had been married for 57 years, and the guy was telling me several jokes that were funny. He pulled out the obligatory grandkid picture, comparing her blue eyes to Loodle's. Told me his daughter had adopted her at 2 days old. As he was leaving and his wife was packing up, he let me know that she was in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's. He was so sweet, and they were obviously still madly in love. She had such a twinkle in her eye and a sly smile every time he said "I've got another one for ya", and launched into another joke.
Of course, as soon as they left, I cried right in the middle of the restaurant. What I sap I am, but how many of those experiences would you have in the local McD's? See? Chick-Fil-A rules.
Another reason: they hold Christian values. I know, some people are rolling their eyes, but I love that about them. Every location closes on Sunday, their employees came around and chatted with folks, asking how things were, and as I was sitting there today watching YD play, I listened to some GOOD contemporary Christian music. I've been in stores or the mall several times, and heard either AWFUL music, or lyrics that I am praying my kids aren't picking up.
Last reason is the great conversation that I had with an old couple sitting next to us. I know, that has nothing to do with Chick-Fil-A, but I figure that since their company rules, that is what drew the neat old couple in the first place. They had been married for 57 years, and the guy was telling me several jokes that were funny. He pulled out the obligatory grandkid picture, comparing her blue eyes to Loodle's. Told me his daughter had adopted her at 2 days old. As he was leaving and his wife was packing up, he let me know that she was in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's. He was so sweet, and they were obviously still madly in love. She had such a twinkle in her eye and a sly smile every time he said "I've got another one for ya", and launched into another joke.
Of course, as soon as they left, I cried right in the middle of the restaurant. What I sap I am, but how many of those experiences would you have in the local McD's? See? Chick-Fil-A rules.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
The House Is Empty
We had houseguests over for the last week, and I dropped them off at the airport this morning. I am feeling bereft and lonely now that the house is empty and quiet again. The Man is home sick from work, and it's wrong to be glad, but I am. It helps to get over being sad about our friends leaving. Sorry, honey. I seemed to have wished sickness upon you.
Tomorrow I dampen my sadness by going to get my hair colored. Thanks, Dad, for the gray hair legacy. It's getting worse and worse, and I'm now having to color it at least every 5 weeks. The lady I go to is awesome (her name is RACHEL!), but costs a fortune and is in downtown Austin. I need to find someone decent who is cheap and local. Sounds easy enough. There's a hair salon INSIDE WALMART! Yeah, maybe I need to broaden my search.
Tomorrow I dampen my sadness by going to get my hair colored. Thanks, Dad, for the gray hair legacy. It's getting worse and worse, and I'm now having to color it at least every 5 weeks. The lady I go to is awesome (her name is RACHEL!), but costs a fortune and is in downtown Austin. I need to find someone decent who is cheap and local. Sounds easy enough. There's a hair salon INSIDE WALMART! Yeah, maybe I need to broaden my search.
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