Quiet Week

this is a stuffed animal i'm making for a pregnant friend. they love mandolin so much that they're naming their child after her. They're givin their daughter mandolin's middle name. it's an honor. I can't blame them, i like the kid and her names too.

After getting about 3 feet of snow over the weekend, we're having a quiet week. All of the schools in the state cancelled school until January. It's just cheaper to keep the kids home this week, especially because the past few years when June comes around, they forgive the snow days and just let the kids out on schedule. Running the buses, AC, power and schools is very expensive and apparently they save a boatload by doing it. My guy is now attached at my hip this week. I made him go shovel the driveway and the street (they don't plow anything but major streets here), and today he completed that task, so I have to invent something for him to do.

Christmas Dinner is as follows:

Choice of: Steak, pork chops, tuna steaks

Gravy

sausage dressing

roasted garlic mashed potatoes

green beans in the pressure cooker (takes 5 minutes)

dinner rolls for those who eat them

Bigass salad same as Thanksgiving

Fruit tay

and Chocolate mousse made with Baily's irish creme and tia maria

or sugar free pie

We're openinig gifts at 12 and eating at 3 to get my inlaws the hell out of my house by 6. It's supposed to snow that day, so we might be rid of them earlier!

So far the tree has been knocked over twice, the kitten has peed on the tree once, the dog i dog sit has eaten three ornaments (she doesn't eat dog trats but eats a salt cookie?) and between Mandolin and the kitten, 7 presents have been unwrapped. They (the both of them) love to pull the bows off the gifts.

This year when i spent my 5 hours of wrapping hell, I used some fancy scmancy expensive scotch tape special for gift wrap. That stuff peeled off the gifts after 4 days and I had to go back with packing tape to keep the stuff wrapped. I should ahve just used packing tape as usual and ignored the pretty tape display. The tree, being left up to me, has giant outside lights on it instead of the little lights. I like the big light look with all of our homemade ornaments, it's "homey."

Wednesday Mandolin is going to her christmas party at daycare so she can see her baby. A new baby started there about a month ago and Mandolin's been asking me to give her a baby (a real one) ever since. If Mandolin is nice, she gets to help feed the baby and hold her. It's good that Mandolin isn't the youngest anymore. Now she wants to be a big girl. My only worry is that she'll hurt the baby. The baby was premature and is still tiny and has some brain damage. The baby has a large dent in her head from birth trauma. When I held my cousin's son a few weeks ago, Mandolin went up to that baby and punched him in the face, so I'm worried she's going to hit this brain damaged baby in the head. She's been good so far, but then again, I haven't held this baby either.

My father in law has decided to dress as santa for christmas day, i'll be sure to tell those of you who got her holiday picture how that turns out.

Social Training: Who needs it?

at the bookshelf site, fourflights posted something about a dog sweater. I'm not sure if she wanted to buy one, or if she was suggesting it because she didn't really say. This was the response she got:

"I'm glad the dire straights of poverty you'd been stricken by have passed. (smile)...I bet your headaches will vanish for different reasons now...brava Carolyn. xox."

Damn, way to put another person's private business out there like that. How socially ignorant must someone be? It reads like a backhanded compliment, you know the type: "For your age, you look great!" Why can't one just say "You look great"? The second half makes it more an insult than a compliment. I hope Four learns to not tell this sairi person anything personal again.

the "(smile)" and "brava" hint that it really wasn't meant as an insult, but it just reads like one to me. I could be wrong, but I hardly think it's appropriate to bring up someone's financial woes, unless they mention it in that post first. It wasn't like Four said she wanted the dog sweater, but couldn't afford it.

It's like meeting an acquaintance while out-and-about and right after the "hellos" asking "How's that case of crotch rot you had back in '94?" It's just Inappropriate, out-of-the-blue, and really unrelated to the point or the social circumstances. But one could make an argument that's par for the course for this person. How does one go about living a life communicating like that?

Believe it or not, there are classes one can take when they have this problem, to teach individuals how to fit in socially. Because some people just don't "get it." It's as if while the rest of us internalized basic social rules, like standing in line at a store, or chewing with closed mouthes, some people never figured it out. It isn't because they're ignorant on purpose, like some people, it's that they really just missed that part of life.

I know Bert, you're going to make an argument about "to each his own" etc. and who am I to insist on social rules that we're supposed to internalize? However, when we learn and follow some social rules, all societies have them, it makes things easier. Sure some people are known for marching to their own drum and being brilliant, but most of them are also known as major assholes to the people who have to put up with them. Since I am not in the "obscure, unsocialized genius" group, I know I'm in the "god I have to put up with that asshole" group. Being a member of the "tolerating" group, I'd rather not have to tolerate someone who's an asshole if I didn't have to. I'm not like Bert, I don't have the cat gene. I don't like to play with my food, or in his case, I don't want to poke a stick at the crazies for the giggles.

Baby steps

Yesterday Mandolin climbed out of her crib for the first time. I really thought she'd never do it, so it was a wonderful surprise. I know some kids never accomplish the crib climb, but every example we've met has been worse off than Mandolin in the disability area. There's a long list of things she's never been able to do, and might not ever do. We usually just ignore it when people ask us about it. People get so catty when their kid does something yours can't.

While Mandolin's ahead vocally and socially, she's still months behind when it comes to problem solving and physical accomplishments. Months doesn't seem like a lot, but for infants and toddlers, it's like having a child in 6th grade performing at the 3rd or 4th grade level. It's a big gap. We pretend we're not worried, or that nothing is wrong, but behind closed doors, we're worried. Being able to find solutions to problems is a large part of how we define intelligence in our society. Sure there's the multiple intelligences etc., but in reality, if you can't solve a basic problem, like how to reach something on a top shelf, life will be hard for you.

A few months back we had to decide which "track" to put her on. People who think that kids aren't still tracked in school anymore are living in lalaland. Just because the Supreme Court said we can't track doesn't mean it still isn't done. They just call it something else and use pretty words to try and mask it. We were given the choice of our daughter being in "regular" classes, but being towards the bottom academically, or putting her in "assisted" (special ed) classes, but her being at the top. Bottom of the top or top of the bottom. What a choice to make when your child is 2. The only decision we've really made is that we want to avoid the Baltimore Public School System. The rest is a mine field that we're attempting to navigate. Not for the first time, I was left wondering what people who don't understand the system coming in do to navigate it?

Mandolin (before the haircut)

Orb, her hair was almost to her bottom. She was born with a lot of hair, and it just kept growing. I didn't have the heart to cut it, until we just couldn't deal with it anymore. She hates having it brushed and gets made when I have to hold her down to put pony tails in it, or braid it. The new shoulder-length do is good for kids who don't want you to do anything to it. The woman gave her bangs, and they're crooked, so I'm going to ask my hairdresser if he'll trim her bangs the next time I go in for a trim.

She refused to wear shoes and the "bracelet" is really a pony tail holder she likes to wear as a bracelet. They got this picture after her hopping around for about 20 minutes and refusing to look at the camera. She was in love with the photographer though and he finally got her to smile and look at the camera for him.

Last First

On Saturday we set off to getMandolin's first haircut. This is the last of her "baby firsts." I borrowed a camera and took pictures of the occasion. I still cannot find a replacement battery for my camera that dies three months after I bought the thing. What a waste of money.

Tomorrow we will visit the post office and probably scan and possibly share our family pictures we picked up from the picture studio yesterday.

My leg feels better every day and I'm no longer tied to the sofa popping pain pills, so the holidays are looking pretty good. On Tuesday we're doing a major furniture move, and I'm sctually looking forward to it. I'm the type of person that likes to put the furniture in one place and never mess with it again, unless it's to clean around, so looking forward to moving furniture shows how badily it's needed. If Tuesday goes well, then Wednesday is the big TREE DAY.

We'll see if I'm up to Christmas Food Shopping on Thursday.

I hope the rest of you had a nice weekend and start the week off alright.

Stupid Man Codes

Today I set about making 100 christmas ornaments and a tree topper out of heaps of salt, flour, cinnamon, cocoa powder, and coffee grounds. If you've never done this, it's very messy and not easy to accomplish with a 2 year old, but we hung in there and all three types of "cookies" were made. Tomorrow we have to decorate the "sugar" cookies, but the cinnamon and mocha were done tonight. I want a tree that could be demolished by young kids and I won't care.

After that, I got started on the Christmas cards. This is usually an involved process, because depending on my mood, I send anywhere from 50-200 cards. Some years I love everyone I have an address for, and other years, like this year, most people could go @#%$ themselves before I send them a card. Kathryn, Spidey and Tree will be getting cards from me because I got a card from them. This year's cards are picture cards of Mandolin screaming at Santa. I got 40 copies of that magic moment and stuffed them into the cards, applied a staple to keep the pic in, wrote a message on the back, stuffed the envelopes, and then put a sticker to close it up. This process took me about an hour.

I really needed help printing the addresses. Basically, someone had to make a new label document of the "in" people from three different address files (my family, his family and the shelfer people). Because my guy has mad skills, and had nothing to do, I assigned the job to him. With some quick C&P action, he should have been done with everything printed long before I was. Nope. He tried to pull the "I hate this $%^&" card to get out of it, but it didn't work with me. That's when I told him that I'd go take his name off all the cards if he didn't help. He thought I was kidding. I let it slip that I haven't put his name on a Christmas card in years, or a gift tag either because he takes me for granted. He had a fit and said I "betrayed" the "relationship rules." WTF? Apaprently, one of the biggest perks for men in a relationship is not having to shop or fill out cards, and I should know this and just put his name. Screw that, if he wants a name on the card, he has to help the process out. I wouldn't be so pissy here except, he had the easy job, a job he earns a living at TEACHING OTHER PEOPLE HOW TO DO, which is mail merging and using C&P. He's got no excuse and the old "I have a penis, see?" excuse isn't cutting it. So, while he pouts and hunts for Sports Center, I'm printing address labels and finishing the cards.

His name isn't going on any gift tags I fill out this year.

If you want a card, let me know here or e-mail me.

Early Saturday Stuff

Doreen, my voice is unique because I sound like a 10-year-old. A few shelf websites ago, Allan needed help posting pics and I said I'd help him out. In the process, he ended up calling me and the first thing he said was "Holy shit, are you the FBI? I'm not a pervert, I swear." Allan sounds like a very old extra-jewish Mel Brooks, if you can imagine it. Bert said I sound like a kid on the phone when we talked that one time. Telemarketers and other bothersome phone people quite often ask to speak to my mommy when I asnwer. I haven't taked to one in awhile though because Mandolin likes to talk to them, so I just put her on. You'd be surprised at how long they'll sit there and talk to her.

On thursday night I was doing a workout tape and everyone did 30 crunches. I, being stupid, thought "we can do 20 more for a good 50." I shouldn't listen to myself. I am sore today and it hurts my middle to bend over. It's been awful all day and is the reason that it's almost 1:30 am on Saturday and I'm not asleep.

Saturday the 5th is my mom's annual birthday party/cookie swap. I still haven't talked to my mother since around Feb. Well, we did talk that one time, but that made it worse, so it doesn't count. I got the invitation for the party on Wednesday for Saturday. What else should I expect? After the whole Thanksgiving thing, I truly thought that an RSVP wasn't needed, afterall, they were going to let me cook $300 worth of food and two meals and not show up without a call, why should I RSVP a stupid cookie swap where I won't be able to eat anything anyway? I was in the middle of making diet cookies when my older sister left me a nasty message about not calling to RSVP. I almost said "fuck it" and not go. However, my mother is still very ill, and if this were her last birthday (which is highly possible at this point), I'd feel bad for blowing it off. So, even though we're not talking, I'm going to go. I do have a few words I want to say to my sisters.

After much debate, I have decided not to see my family for Christmas, but make the trip a week or so after. My guy was raised spending Christmas Eve driving 7 hours to visit one set of grandparents, having christmas there, and then driving another 9 hours to visit grandparents 2, having christmas there and then driving home. What a crappy winter break from school. Because of this, he likes to get up at 4am Christmas day, drive a few hours to my parents, have one christmas and then drive a few hours in the other direction to see his parents, have christmas two and then come home, to our friends and have christmas three. I'm just not up to it anymore and that's that. Yes it's nice to honor the older people by visiting them, but they don't have a baby to wrangle and aren't old enough to obsess over "price is right" and "matlock."
Nothing is keeping them from coming here.

A few months ago we went to my guy's parent's home. My guy's momma is a hoarder, just like in the TV show. It's dangerous to move about in her house because piles of stuff are constantly falling and it's hard to walk around. On our last visit, the FIL didn't watch Mandolin as he was supposed to, and she was injured. It was a minor injury, but it happened. I made the executive decision that we wouldn't be going back there until the home is clean (so after the MIL is dead or in a home). Before my guy was 5, he suffered from several broken bones and a few trips to Childrne's for poisioning from the combination of my FIL's inability to watch young children, and his momma's hoarding. If my kid gets a broken bone, it won't be because of those two things.

This year, we're having a tree, presents and dinner here with the people that really matter. His parents can visit that day if they want food and family. I'm not driving out to the foothills of Appalachia to see my kin until around New Year's because it really isn't worth the bother.