Attention!  Attention!  Late, Breaking NEWS!  I've moved my site over to Wordpress so please continue to be my friend and follow me on over.  If I could I'd have wine and cheese waiting for you as the nice hostess that I am but well, this is cyberspace for god sakes so have your own wine and cheese!

My new site is:
http://www.dramaformama.wordpress.com

It's all the same stuff but much easier to read and I'll actually be able to comment back to you.

So come on over!  I have a new post waiting, right now.  See you there!

xo

Yesterday was a rough day (as you may have guessed if you read yesterday's post).  It was as rough as they get with Hannah.  I guess the gift I get with her turning five is a boatload of sassiness and a new sixteen year old-esque attitude.  We both yelled until our throats were sore.  We both shed too many tears.  I promised myself that this girl is going to have some new rules to follow.  This mommy is going to take charge!  Because days like yesterday, cannot continue.  I felt like I was run over by a Mac truck when I went to bed last night.  And based on Tim's reaction when he got home from work, I looked like it as well.

This morning was a new day.  My first new rule was that Hannah must get dressed on her own by 8:15.  Before yesterday the routine was that I would go up to her room while she lazily played in the family room, pick out her outfit du jour and help her get dressed in the family room.  It moved things along.  It ensured an on time departure to get to school by 9:00.  It was also a guarantee that I'd like her outfit.  Yes, I'm one of those moms.  One of those moms that takes pride in how their children "look" when they leave the house.  I don't spend a lot of money (anymore) on her clothes but I like for her to look put-together and neat, with a little style thrown in as well.  I don't care much about how she looks when she comes home from school.  I actually LIKE when she's a mess at the end of the day because it shows she had a busy, live-like-you're-five type day.  I've just always felt that how she looks is a reflection on me.  I know, I know ( I hear you all lecturing me now), letting kids wear what they want fosters creativity and lets them think for themselves, blahdiblahdiblah.  I just feel good when my children look cute. Shoot me. Or sue me. Or whatever cliche you'd like to add.

Anyway... at 8:00 I sent Hannah to her room to get dressed.  After a few stomps of protest, she shuffled herself up the stairs.  After a few minutes, she burst into my room, fully dressed.  I thought she was joking.  I actually laughed.  I'm not going to bore you with the mismatched details so I'll just leave it as, I think she worked as hard putting this train wreck of an outfit together as she would have to put together a catalog worthy outfit.  Part of me thought she was mocking me.

"Do you like?" she asked hopeful.
"Ummmmm..." was all I could muster.
"There's a lot going on here, isn't there mommy." she said, reading my mind (and repeating a comment I must have said before).
"Yeah, there is.  But..." I was revving myself up to tell her it was ok to wear what she chose, but she cut me off.
"It's ok mommy.  People don't really care what I'm wearing anyway.  They only care that I'm nice and sweet."

My 5 year old was lecturing me on "it's what's on the inside that counts".  My 5 year old is more mature than me.  She's less superficial than me.  Ugh.

I wish I could live by this mantra more often.  I hesitate to write the words here that I really feel because I don't want you to think less of me.  But maybe if I write them, I'll try harder to change.  I DO care what I look like.  I DO assume people judge me for how I look.  I spend too much money (money that I don't even earn anymore) on clothes.  I often put too much thought into what I put on in the morning before I leave the house.  I believe that my style says a lot about my personality.  And I think it's because (deep breath) I sometimes JUDGE other people too quickly by what I SEE.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm friendly to everyone.  I will never turn away from anyone or think less of someone for how they look, but I'll often start the conversation with them with an initial opinion in my head.  One that is more often than not, WRONG.  I think many of us are like this.  We make judgement calls on people before we give them a chance.  We judge people on where they went to school, where they live, what kind of work they do, how they raise their kids.  But judging someone for how they look... it's one of the first lessons we learn.  It's unacceptable.

Part of me strives to be the mom who looks like she has it all together.  I am so NOT that mom.  I don't have it together on so many days.  I am usually hanging on by a thread.  But I guess I think if I LOOK like I do, maybe that's half the battle.  I meet moms at Mommy and Me gym classes, school drop off, the grocery store who I wonder how they took that shower in the morning.  When they had time to buy that trendy, chic outfit.  How they don't look painfully exhausted.  How they got makeup on their face with kids hanging on their legs and arms.  I think to myself, next time I come to this gym class, I'm going to get MYself together.  I can look that great too.  I rarely do, but on occasion, I try.

Why Do I Care?  I'm a nice person.  I am interesting, fun, smart.  But somehow, it's not enough.   I need to reevaluate what is important in myself.  What is important to others.  My clothes, my hair, my shoes, are not.  But now, without my yearly work review, without a boss telling me how I'm doing, without the "normal" ways of being judged... this is all I've got.  Now, these days as a full time mom,  the judging of myself is on me.  I feel so much better about myself on the days when I shower and wear an "outfit" that's not the clothes picked up off the floor from the day before.  Not the same black t-shirt that I slept in the night before.  When I give myself the luxury of blow drying my hair, putting on a pair of earrings and rubbing my newly glossed lips together, I feel like I've achieved something.  But really, I've achieved nothing more than impressing myself.

So here it is, another resolution.  Brought to you by my 5 year old daughter.  I will focus on what is important.  My insides.  Other people's insides.  Being proud of keeping my kids alive, nourished and loved each and every day.  Because it's all that really matters.  (Although Tim would be thankful if I shaved my legs and brushed my hair a few days a week).

Being nice and sweet.  It's all that really matters.

I guess sometimes you have to shed huge tears
So that you appreciate the tears of joy that much more.

I guess sometimes you have to scream crazy loud
So that your nice voice rings sweeter.

I guess sometimes you have to say things you don't mean
So that the ones you do mean hold more meaning.

I guess sometimes your heart has to feel broken
So that you realize the happiness when it sings.

I guess sometimes you have to lose your patience
So that when you find it, you hold onto it tighter.

I guess sometimes you have to have an angry side
So that your pleasant side makes more of a statement.

I guess sometimes you have to feel lost
So that being found is that much more comforting.

I guess sometimes you have to feel like you have no one
So that when your someone is there, their arms wrap warmer.

I hope that there are all these "sometimes"
Or else today was really for nothing.

Yes, I had one of "those" days.  One of those days that is thrown at us so that we appreciate the better days.  One of those days where my kids decided they had been giving me too much of a good thing.  One of those days where I had to EARN my huge salary.  One of those days where I'm really thankful I have this place.  This place where I can shed my tears and my words... and feel better tomorrow.  Thanks for that.

Hannah had her first gymnastics practice in her "advanced preschool" class today.  She's been looking forward to it for weeks.  She had to "try out" for this class and was thrilled when she was selected.  I'm not sure what the criteria was to make the class but I guess she showed some potential in her crooked little cartwheel or sideways forward roll.  And today, in her new shiny, stripy, polkadotted leotard she was ecstatic.  On the drive there I asked her if she was excited, wondering if there was a part of her that was nervous.  New kids, new coach, newly five years old.  


"Oh I'm so excited mommy!  So so so excited.  It's going to be the best.  It is going to be the most fun ever.  If I can't do something, I'll just ask and the coach will come over and help me.  Because you know, I haven't done gymnastics for a long time (the summer/fall) so I might have forgotten some tricks but I'm sure I'll remember right away once the coach has showed me.  I'll probably have the most fun I've ever had. Ever."


My little optimist.  


I'm an optimist.  I grew up in a household full of pessimists but somehow, I became an optimist. I don't know if it was a retaliation against the negativity surrounding me or if I was just born this way but I definitely view things in a positive light, for the most part.  My mom used to always assume things wouldn't go well.  I'd desperately ask her why she always put a negative spin on things and she'd say, "I'd rather believe the worst and then be pleasantly surprised if I'm wrong". I used to press her saying, "wouldn't it just be better to live life assuming things WILL work out and then, if they don't, be sad?"  She absolutely, no doubt about it, disagreed.  She hated the let down.  It used to drive me crazy.  Things as unimportant as the weather to things of utmost importance like whether I'd be asked to prom, she would prepare me for the worst.  I guess she didn't want ME disappointed either.  She was protecting me.  She was loving me.  


Often I'd look over at my dad when she was casting a negative light on things in my world, asking him to support my optimism and convince her to see the glass more full and he'd just shrug his shoulders.  He knew it was a battle not worth fighting.  Often my mom would say she was just being realistic.  Not negative.  If the chances were not in her favor, she wasn't willing to take a risk to think things would fall on her side.  It was easier for her this way.  It still is.  I'm used to it.  I now often do the "Wah Wah" of Debbie Downer when she makes a negative comment about something involving me.  It's become a bit of a joke.  One that she doesn't often laugh at but I have to.


Yesterday for Hannah's birthday I made big plans to take our family to the Big Apple Circus in NYC.  I paid top dollar for close ringside seats.  I decided to buy Luke his own seat even if he chose to sit on my or Tim's lap for the entire show.  This way it would give us extra space and would give him the option to climb up and down off the chair if he wished.  Hannah and I counted the days down to the big event.  I was nervous in the back of my head.  Nervous the Big Apple Circus may be a let down compared to the Ringling Brothers I saw and remembered clearly from my childhood.  Nervous that Luke (and Hannah) would be petrified of the loud noises, big animals, clowns and crowds.  Nervous that Hannah would want to go out into the ring with the acts, reminiscent of our trip to see the Wiggles on stage when she was two.  Nervous that all of the planning would somehow not play out as Hannah and I had dreamed.  But everything I said out loud, for anyone else's ears... was very positive.  I told everyone how wonderful it would be, how sure I was that everything would go smoothly.  


Yesterday morning I spoke to my mom.  
Not surprisingly, she wasn't as full of optimism.  I tried not to let it effect me.  I tried to keep my steady, sturdy, upbeat attitude.  It's not always easy when one of your biggest supporters isn't walking to the same beat.


She ended the conversation with, "Have fun!"  And I know she meant it.  She always wants the best for me.  She is crushed when I'm sad.  I'm sure the fact that I choose her to complain to when things DON'T go well makes her that much more interested in seeing things turn out positively.  I don't blame her.  I don't want her to stop communicating her thoughts to me... I guess, just as I always did when I was little, I wish I could drain some of the negativity from her head.  Let her see how much shinier things could look without it.  But you can't change the way someone views life.   I just have to let it roll off me... and stay confident in my opposite approach.


I am not someone who looks at things through rose colored glasses.  I actually get frustrated with people who do.  People NEED to at least take NOTE of both sides, it's just which side they choose to let guide them that differentiates them. I am grounded.  There are times when reality gets the best of me and I have a hard time snapping out of it and hoping for things to take a change for the best.  I do worry.  I do vent.  I am not the person who says, "I'm sure everything will be fine." when I have reason to believe it won't.  BUT, I choose to look at the sunny side.  I choose to notice the flowers, not the dirt.  The peaks of sun, not the clouds.  It gets me through rough patches.  It keeps me from wallowing.  It keeps me sane on days when I could otherwise get pulled under.


I'm still glowing in the bask of the circus.  That's right.  It was AMAZING.  Luke sat with his entire fist in his mouth for almost two hours, eyes as big as saucers.  He applauded when anyone else clapped.  He yelled, "Ta DA!" when the trapeze artist made a perfect landing. He "woof woofed" at the doggies parading around.  He was asleep within 7 minutes on the car ride home.  And the birthday girl?  She had her picture taken with one of the head clowns.  She got a birthday kiss from the ring master.  She had her face painted, peed for the first time in a port-a-potty and announced to everyone and anyone who would listen that she was five.  The only tears that were shed were this morning, when she realized it was over and we weren't going again today.  


I'm so happy I was optimistic about yesterday.  If I hadn't been, my nerves probably would have gotten the best of me. I would have left Luke at home and worried about each and every detail.  Instead, I went with the flow.  I planned a great day, and it was over and above what I dreamed of.  I saw my daughter's eyes widen with excitement and disbelief at what was going on in front of and above her. The thrill in Luke's face will forever be etched in my memory.  He won't remember one second of it... but I will.  


Two months of excitement and one afternoon of perfection.  Certainly better than two months of fretting and an afternoon of relief.  It gave me reason to continue my optimistic way about me.  And reason to encourage the same with my kids... if nothing else it will keep the Debbie Downer impersonations to a minimum.

January 1.  The day that I always search deep within for what I want to do better.  Do different.  Do.  I've always done this on this day of new beginnings.  I write them down on a piece of paper and store it in a private drawer with the hope of pulling it out on December 31 and smiling with pride as I check each one off having been completed.  I don't think I've EVER checked them all off.  My list is always over ambitious and the items are always too general consisting of words like, "be better at..." or "work harder to...", things that are not even check-offable".  Yesterday I didn't even pull out my 2009 list.  I knew I didn't achieve any of my resolutions and didn't want to depress myself by confirming it.  Plus, I feel like I put that list in my drawer yesterday, not 365 days ago.  WHERE oh where did the year go?  What DID I do?  


One thing I did do was this.  My blog.  Drama for Mama was born and with its birth a new passion and new friendships also came to life.  I have written before about the fact that my head is full of "wonder".  I wonder all the time.  Wonder what people are thinking. Wonder if I'm doing things right. Wonder if I'm the person I hope to be.  Wonder who it is I hope to be.  This blog has allowed me to wonder aloud.  And I feel as if I've been given permission to wonder because I have found I'm not alone.  No matter what is on my mind, someone else has it on their mind too.  This blog has brought me support, empathy, sympathy and inspiration.  Who knew.


This year, there's no piece of paper. There's no drawer to put it in.  I'm writing my resolutions here.  For all to see.  This way you can keep me honest.  You can keep me on track.  And at the end of 2010, we can celebrate my successes together or laugh together that they were ridiculous to begin with.  I am going to tie my resolutions in with the Ten Things You Don't Know About Me that I'm required to write in receipt of my Sugar Doll award to give my list reason for being.


FIRST thing you may not know about me:
I count things.  I count without knowing I'm counting until it's over and I have the number in my head.  For instance, I never go up a flight of steps without counting them.  I rarely go from point A to point B without knowing how many steps I took.  If a train is going by, I count the train cars.  Weird, I know.  My mom does it too.  I don't count out loud so I don't get bizarre looks from people but the numbers still tick in my head.  
Resolution: I will apply this OCD behavior to my house.  I will THROW out.  I will purge.  I will organize.  Things will have a PLACE.  It will not be easy, but it will happen.  I will be able to breathe easier and feel a sense of calm.  It will be worth it.


SECOND thing you may not know about me:
I was NEVER a girly girl.  When I was little I used to drag baby dolls around by their hair.  Most of them ended up without heads.  I didn't get a manicure until after I graduated from college.  I didn't wear or have an interest in wearing makeup until I was in my 20's.  I liked being outside, riding my bike, throwing balls around, playing tetherball and beating the boys in the 50 yard dash.  I have a daughter who although looks just like me, is the exact opposite.  She is all things GIRL.  Baby dolls are her passion.  She likes having her toes painted rainbow colors.  She likes bows in her hair and necklaces adorning her neck.  
Resolution: I will revel in her girliness.  Although I will push her toward sports because I am a strong believer that team sports are extremely healthy for kids, I will also allow her to BE all girl.  And I will continue to find my inner girl along with her.  I will enjoy the moments of playing mommy and baby with her.  I will schedule weekly dates on the couch where I paint her toe nails while she sits in her bathrobe.  I will let her dream in pink if she so chooses.


THIRD thing you may not know about me: I used to get up at 4:55 every single weekday morning to go to the gym.  I was addicted to the adrenaline rush I got from working out.  I had muscle tone.  I was energized.  I may have been NUTS.  I may have driven Tim crazy with the alarm buzzer.  But I felt great.  I am still up at this hour more mornings than I care to admit due to insomnia or a non-sleeping child but I have not seen the inside of a gym at this hour in 5 years.  
Resolution:  I will be reconnecting with and hopefully re-igniting the love affair I once had with the gym.  I will find the time.  I will MAKE the time.  I cannot hope for every day (hell, I don't even WANT to try to go every day) but a few days a week the gym and I will have a hot date.


FOURTH thing you may not know about me: I have my MBA.  It's hard to believe I walked up on that stage in NYC and shook hands with the dean as he handed me my hard earned diploma almost TEN years ago.  It's hard to believe that after crying through economics and swearing at the world through accounting and finance, I only put it to use for 7 years until I hung up my hat in the corporate world and opened my arms to my kids and a job that has far more working hours in a day than even my LONGEST days in the real working world.  I do miss my old career.  I miss marketing.  I miss coming up with concepts for new soaps and lipsticks and talking to consumers about why they buy what they buy and then seeing a new tube of lipstick hanging on the wall that I helped create, advertise and sell.  I still walk down the cosmetic aisle and read all of the packaging for new products wondering how the idea came to life.  I watch commercials and have opinions about them all.  
Resolution: I will bring my marketing consulting business to life.  I will find some projects that inspire me.  I will hand out my business cards and find businesses that need me.  It may be one project at a time, a few hours a week, but it will be something.  I need something else.  My kids need me to have something else.


FIFTH thing you may not know about me: I am a hypochondriac.  Seriously.  I worry far too often that something is terribly wrong with me.  I google my symptoms. I diagnose myself with rare and terminal illnesses.  I don't go to the doctor but instead worry myself into despair.  It's terrible.  It's a sickness in itself.  I never used to be this way until I had kids.  My kids have given me new reason to live and I now worry incessantly about something taking me away from them.  I have brought myself to tears lying in bed thinking about it.
Resolution: Knock it the fuck off!  'Nuff said.  


SIXTH thing you may not know about me: I LOVE people.  I write a lot about having a hard time making friends, keeping friends, talking to friends, being honest with friends, etc.  But honestly, I love to be with, get to know and spend time with friends.  People fascinate me.  It must be the marketer in me but I have a passion for understanding what makes people tick.  It's why I ask so many questions, it's why I may get caught staring a little too often.  It's why I have a daughter who won't STOP ASKING QUESTIONS!
Resolution: I will see my friends more.  I will have more playdates with Hannah's friends.  I will make more of an effort to connect and reconnect even when it's so much easier to stay home.  


SEVENTH thing you may not know about me: Conflict scares the crap out of me.  I avoid confrontation at all costs.  I would rather let something stew inside my head giving me an horrendous headache and then diagnose myself with a brain tumor than confront someone with something hurtful, bothersome or disappointing they said to me. I let things roll off me very easily.  I forgive almost immediately.  I apologize before even realizing something wasn't my fault.  I'm terrible at using my words although I get very upset if someone isn't straightforward and upfront with me.  I'm afraid of losing someone close to me over conflict.  I'm afraid of offending someone or being viewed as too sensitive or weak.  So I stay quiet.
Resolution: I will say how I feel.  More often at least.  I will realize that those who love me, will still love me even if I tell them they hurt me. I will let myself feel hurt even if I AM being too sensitive.  I will broach tough conversations to lighten the load in my head.


EIGHTH thing you may not know about me: I love to cook.  I actually didn't even know this about myself until pretty recently!  Who knew I'd find it so relaxing, so peaceful, so rewarding?  And add a glass of wine and some music to the activity... I choose that over a bubble bath any day!  
Resolution: My dinner table will see more home cooked meals during the week.  And by home cooked I mean, from scratch.  No box of dinner that requires adding some butter and milk to boiling water.  No peel back celophane on a dish that is placed in the microwave.  Home Cooked.  By me.  With raw ingredients.  And I will require the family to eat it Together.  At the table.  At the same time.  At least the kids and I since Tim doesn't usually see the dinner table until the kids are sleeping.


NINTH thing you may not know about me: I'm a shopaholic.  I love all things shopping (ok, so maybe I am a girly girl).  I don't even need to buy... I just love to shop.  Some people have a drink to calm their nerves.  Some people go for a run to clear their head.  I hit the stores.  I feel a buzz as I touch the fabrics on the racks.  I am energized by the music, the fellow shoppers.  It's my zone.  Tim (or his wallet) is lucky I don't have time to do it more often.  Superficial?  Yes.  Just speaking the truth.
Resolution: I don't have one.  I just needed to get this addiction off my chest.  


TENTH thing you may not know about me: I wrote a children's book.  Yes.  I actually did it.  You may recall a story I told in a post a month or so ago about a pair of shoes?  You can see it here.  I now just need to push it through the "system", whatever system that might be. 
Resolution: Move it along and make it happen.  I have a whole series in mind so I have to get this first one off the ground.  


It's a long list.  It's not a complete list.  But it's a start.  It's a big year 2010.  Hannah will turn 5.  She will start Kindergarten.  Luke will turn 2.  He hopefully will learn to SPEAK.  And I will have big changes too.  Things that will better me for me and for my family.  And you'll be here to see it happen!

Ever have someone that you respect and look up to and ADORE give you a fantastic compliment?  One that makes you blush, look over your shoulder to be sure they're talking about you and then be left speechless?  This happened to me recently.  I have met some amazing blog friends over the past few months.  Women who write with a style that I could only dream of.  Women whose stories resonate with me and have me nodding my head in agreement with every word.  I talk about them with my family as if they are my real friends because I feel like I've gotten to know them and them me as well as or better than my real life friends.  One of these friends is Lindsey.  Lindsey writes an incredible blog called A Design So Vast.  I found her through another of my favorite blogs, Momalom.  I was attracted first to the way she wrote comments on Momalom's blog.  I always agreed with her comments so decided to check out her own stories on her blog.  Wow.  Every post I read impressed me more than the last.  The words she hand picks to illustrate her feelings are breathtaking.  Her stories are magnificent.  So when she honored me with a the Sugar Doll blog award.  I was speechless.  Who, me?  I skipped through that day, feeling like I had received the highest compliment I could have imagined.  It made me feel like writing the words I choose to write (as silly, dark or superficial as they may be) were heard and understood and well, LIKED!  Yay me!  And I now have to share 10 things about myself that you don't know.  It will be coming in the form of my New Years Resolutions.  Stay tuned!

So thank you Lindsey!  Thank you for giving me this Sugar Doll Award honor.  Coming from you it truly is just that - an honor.

And now it's my turn to pass it along to another blogger who I have come to love.  I haven't been at this blog writing thing for long, but in my short time I've come across a variety of types of writing and personalities.  This one I feel like I would be friends with if we lived down the street from each other.  She makes me laugh on most days with her anecdotes of her kids and family.  I usually think I could have written the same story about my family.  She is so REAL.  Her words ring true.  She makes me smile.  When I want a break from my drama, I go read about hers because it makes me feel better that I'm not the only one who it happens to.  She speaks the truth about her husband.  She is not shy about her pajama choices, she admits when she (thinks) she's being a bad mom (which she never is!).  She is LZ from My Messy Paradise.  And I promise, if you go read what she has to say, you'll want to be her friend too.  And now I'm thinking I shouldn't be telling you about her because I want to keep her for myself.  I'm selfish like that.  Although, it's too late because she already has a million friends.  But I'm a good fighter so I think I may be able to win a seat by her at a party if I'm ever lucky enough to be at a party where she is.

So congratulations LZ on your Sugar Doll Award... go share the love!  Pass it on to someone you love.  And then share 10 things we don't know about you.  I can't wait to read them!

Hannah started "school" at 7 months old.  I was working full time when she was born and decided that daycare fit what I was looking for in our situation.  She had a nanny from 4-7 months until she got into the school I chose for her and then she was thrown head first into the school setting.  She was thrown headfirst and landed feet first.  She never cried when I left her.  She immediately found the parts of the classroom that interested her and learned to get along with others with ease.  As she got older, she found it easy to interact with other kids and adults.  She was friendly with people she was meeting for the first time.  On the playground she'd befriend anyone and everyone.  She has social graces that I envy. She's not shy, yet she's not pushy.  She's just friendly and welcoming to everyone.  I adore her for that trait.  A trait that I truly believe is innate but was enhanced in her case in the school setting.

Then there's Luke.  I stopped working before he was born and so I never had the need to send him off to be "socialized" at a very early age.  He's been literally attached to me since the day he was born.  I tote him around everywhere with me.  He doesn't have any of his own friends.  He takes a little gym class but is more interested in throwing balls around on his own or going up and down the slide himself than interacting with any of the other 15 kids in the class.  The only other person he cares to notice at the gym, is me.  Last week I took him to a new gym class and before we went into the actual session, he was playing in the general play area and he noticed something interesting about another little boy playing by him.  He walked right up to him without hesitation, stared at him inches from his face and pulled the little boy's paci from his mouth.  POP!  Luke looked at the binky for a few seconds, looked back at the boy, looked at me, back at the boy and then shoved it back into the kid's mouth.  The boy didn't react and his mother wasn't standing right there so if I hadn't been there to see it, it could have never happened!  But I shook my head in disbelief that Luke thought this was a totally normal thing to do.

This week while we were away on vacation there was a little girl 18 months old standing in the hallway of the hotel.  Luke ran up to her and said, "HI! Hi! Hi!".  The girl looked at him but didn't respond. "HI!" Luke shouted a little louder and closer to her face while flapping his hand up and down in the best waving motion he could manage.  Still nothing.  Not even a smile.  He ran a circle around her and popped over her other shoulder, "HI!".  She proceeded to run behind her mom's legs and peaked out at him from her new hiding spot.  He thought this was a new game and ran back over to her laughing, "HI!".  She shoved her face into the back of her mom's legs to block him from view and I tried to lure Luke away but he swatted at me for trying to ruin his new game.  He tried to push his face into the FRONT of the mom's legs to get through to the girl's face.  No luck.  I pulled at his arm saying, it was ok that she was being quiet (while the girls mom laughed and explained that she was just shy) but he pulled free from my grasp and ran back to her leaning his head against the girl's shoulder squeaking out a few more "Hi! Hi!  Hi!"'s.   He finally got frustrated by the lack of response and placed his hand squarely on the girl's chest and pushed her.  He pushed her!  "HI!" he said again, this time quite seriously. The mom stopped laughing and I decided to end the scene by picking him up into my arms saying, "No Touch, Luke!" and he looked over my shoulder at her and smiled and waved.  "Bye! Bye!" he shouted as we walked away.  No love match made there.  And I realized he needs a small lesson on how to make new friends (and how to play hard-to-get).

All of this makes me wonder when you should start "teaching" your child the "right" way to be friendly. If your child isn't in a school setting at an early age, how and when do they learn the ins and outs of making friends?  I'm not always good at the playdate thing so I don't have 20 month old kids chaperoned in and out of my house and I don't go to other houses often either.  It's actually one of my New Year's resolutions... to have more playdates.  To be less of a hermit in the comfort of my own home.  Stay tuned for my resolution post coming up soon... How much of "being friendly" is innate and how much is learned?

It also makes me think about how much of the instinct to be friendly is taken AWAY with socialization.  Wouldn't it be great if you could stay as friendly as you were at 20 months, going up to anyone and everyone saying HI and not caring what they looked like or what they'd think of you?  Just to BE friendly because that's your nature?  Hannah is super friendly to everyone but is starting to question why people aren't nice back.  Why not everyone wants to play with her.  Why someone at the park has no interest in her random story (that she tells 4 inches from their face).  It's not not enough to make her stop her outgoing, wonderful attempts to make new friends but I wonder how it effects her little 5 year old makeup.

I think I actually used to be friendlier.  I've become cynical in my "old" age and where I used to expect everyone to respond to my outgoing friendliness positively, I now am less trusting.  To me, there's nothing worse than being friendly and getting a "chill" in response.  So I now don't open up as easily or quickly.  I stand back, measure people up a little more.  I wait longer before I approach someone new.   I wish I could be like Luke and jump right in and without waiting for a positive response,  just keep it going, continue my rapport, but I can't.  I get my feelings hurt and am more hesitant the next time I'm in a similar situation.   Luke hasn't had "lessons" in making friends.  He watches his sister.  He watches me.  He is seeing what works for him, what he's comfortable with on his own.  He has had no training in getting his feelings hurt on the playground or in the classroom.  And it's so refreshing.  So innocent.  So raw and real.  I wish I could wrap it up - save it for him.  I also wish I could borrow a lesson from him and live like this for a day (or month or year).  Live the way that comes naturally to me and not the way I've been trained to live.  Guarded.  A little fearful.  Maybe I'll give it a shot.  I'll just need a few drinks to make it happen...

I am on vacation.  The new kind of vacation.  The kind with the kids.  It probably should have a different name because vacation is not what it used to be.  I remember vacation.  Vacation was packing MY bags one night and heading for the airport the next morning coffee in hand, flipflops on my feet and a carry-on containing my bathing suit that I knew I'd immediately put on as soon as I arrived at my beachy destination.  It was 7 days away from work, and away from hassle.  I'd turn off my phone knowing no one could need me THAT badly.  Vacation was waking up at 10, putting on my bathing suit and heading to the outdoor cabana for breakfast in the sand.  Vacation was a massage at 3, nap at 4, drinks by the ocean at 6 and dinner at 8.  Vacation was going to sleep at night flushed from the sun, buzzing from the wine and relaxed that there was no agenda for the next day.  


I am on vacation.  But not THAT kind of vacation.  I am sitting as I write in a PITCH dark room.  Hannah is asleep on a blow up mattress at the foot of my bed.  Luke has been asleep since 7 so here is where I've been sitting since then.  We needed TWO luggage carts to bring all of our stuff to our room.  We are here for FOUR days.  I actually lied to the bellhop and told him I had four kids.  I packed That Much Stuff.  I'm pretty sure I forgot some essentials for myself, but at least I brought thirty or so Matchbox cars, two baby dolls and anything Hannah could need to care for them, a doll double stroller, a tiara making kit for all of the cousins, pickup sticks, Tiddly Winks, three board games, swim goggles, and a soccer ball.  


I am on vacation.  That's what it's called even though I had dinner at 6:00 with 10 of my family members but I don't recall actually speaking to any of them because Luke was grabbing the knives from our table, and throwing food at the table next to us.  Preventing any major injury took precedence over conversation.  I know I ordered a glass of wine but I don't quite recall drinking it.  I know a toast was given at the start of the meal by my parents who took us on this vacation but I don't recall clinking glasses with anyone since Luke was grabbing the stem of my glass as I went to lift it up.  On my dinner plate was a piece of chicken, some rice and three Matchbox cars.  Letting Luke drive the cars through my food kept him entertained so I was fine with that.  It's his vacation too.  


Hannah wore her most favorite new dress and a necklace to dinner and ate a huge ice cream sundae for dessert.  She went swimming in the indoor pool for an hour right before dinner and will again when she first gets up before breakfast.  Two of her most favorite girls in the world, who happen to be her cousins and she rarely gets to see, are down the hall.  She'll see them before she's even dressed in the morning, will be with them all day tomorrow and will have a pajama party with them tomorrow night.  She went to bed an hour later than usual.  During that hour I lay in her blow up bed with her watching Lady and the Tramp on the portable DVD player.  I told her an extra long, extra special good night story before her eyes shut for the night. 


Luke will have unlimited beverages at his disposal. He'll get to eat french fries at every meal.  He gets to see more than just mommy's face for 4 days in a row.  He has MILES of open, vast hallways to run up and down.  He has stairways galore to climb.  


No, I won't sleep late.  I won't read any books as I lounge by a pool.  I won't be flushed from the sun or buzzed from drinks. I won't be going to bed past 10 on any night.  I won't be dancing under any stars.  No, that's not really what vacation is anymore.  Vacation is better now (did I really just say that?).  It has more meaning now.  Vacation is now creating memories for my two little kids.  Vacation is the excitement and sparks I see in their eyes as they wake up somewhere new and get to eat cereal in their bed out of the little boxes.  Vacation is letting THEM stay out late.  Letting THEM have chocolate milk at breakfast and dessert at lunch.  Vacation is watching THEM let loose on the dance floor in their fancy clothes.  Vacation is their laughter, their exuberance at all that is new in a place they've never been. 


It's 10:00 and Tim is sound asleep next to me, snoring away.  There's no TV and even if there was, I wouldn't be able to turn it on because Hannah is only feet away.  But I'm on vacation.  We've only been on this vacation for 8 hours but Hannah has already told me she's having the BEST time ever.  The last words she said as she fell asleep were, "I can't wait until tomorrow."  


And neither can I.

OK, I got my venting out of the way. I am now ready to write my "real" post. Sorry if my vent was out of left field or slightly not PC. I just had one of those afternoons... Ahem.

Ok people. My holiday is now over so it's time to move on with the winter and remove yourselves from the stores. I have a vacation to get ready for and I do not need all of you crazed shoppers in my way as I buy my few vacation necessities. You're stealing my parking spots, you're taking my shopping carts, you're causing insane lines at the grocery stores and you're making returning my less than desirable gifts that I received for MY holiday, next to impossible. Even worse, because of the upcoming, somewhat of a big deal holiday, all of the stores are closed the day before I leave for vacation. This means far too much planning on my part. I don't pack three days ahead of time so I do not KNOW that I'll need more shampoo, warm socks, razors or hair ties until the day before I leave which just happens to be CHRISTMAS. I also do not enjoy cooking dinner the night before I leave for vacation because I like being waited on at a restaurant so I can relax after my bags are packed and I look forward to hitting the road in the morning. But this year, it's Christmas so my restaurants of choice will not be open to serve me. On top of that, I like to have playdates on the days that my kids are home from school but it just so happens that it's Christmas and none of my kids friends will be choosing having a playdate at my house over opening their gifts and celebrating with their families, which means I'm stuck at home, with nothing to do except be stuck at home. You would think that my kids have plenty to do at home with all of the gifts they received over the eight days of Chanukah but you see, Chanukah was finished just about a week ago and a week is plenty of time to become totally BORED of all of the new gifts. They are now OLD gifts and are not incentive enough to keep anyone excited about staying home without anywhere to go or anyone to play with.

I had a ridiculously long, exhausting day and am left with very little energy to write a post tonight. So I'll just write this little anecdote that may make you laugh. Or cringe. Or never come back again. Or possibly all of the above. Whatever, it's one for the books and you're the lucky ones who get to read it. No need to comment... just try not to think less of me (or Hannah), ok?

I had one of those mornings. It didn't start well. Luke who is normally the late sleeper awoke at 5:30 screaming and in turn woke up Hannah who came running into our room frenzied that he was crying and no one was getting him. (In my half asleep state I guess I was hoping he would scream himself back to sleep). He screamed and screamed and she whined and whined that he needed me and I should be getting him. I looked at him through half opened eyes in the monitor and saw that he was only minutes away from hurling himself over the edge of the crib so I sleepily hoisted myself out of bed, meandered down the dark hall behind worried Hannah and opened the door to screaming Luke's room. The door wasn't even fully ajar when I heard him squealing "Hi! Hi! Hi!". Far too excited for 5:37 am. I brought him back to my bed knowing full well that my squirmy son would sit for about 13 minutes of Wow Wow Wubbzy before he would flip onto his belly and start sliding his way feet first off the bed and make a bee line for the stairs ready for breakfast. "Cuddling" is not in his vocabulary. Neither is "Sitting Still" or "Relaxing".