I thought this would be more like having a cat.

Can I go on a diet?

Asked my SIX year old daughter the other night.

Seems some kids at school have been calling her fat.

And as much as a part of me wants to strangle them, part of me realizes kids are kids and while Soph isn't obese, she also isn't what you'd call svelte.  What she IS though, is beautiful, healthy, sensitive, and just a tad on the stout side.

And she wants to go on a diet.

And she's SIX!

Apparently I'm at a loss for words, (other than diet and six.)

So, we've been talking a lot about healthy eating and exercise and bodies being different.  I've told her that she can choose to eat fewer sweets if she wants to, and that we'll try as a family to have healthy meals, but that no, she cannot go on a diet (and frankly, she probably doesn't actually know what that even means) because she is not fat, and also, SHE IS SIX YEARS OLD GODDAMMIT.

This is the part where I could type pages and pages about my relationship with my body, how I have a hard time taking care of myself, eating disorders, cultural expectations, blah, blah, blah, but I've done that here many, many times, and frankly, I'm bored with it.  I am just so sad and feel so guilty that my issues have already rubbed off on my sweet, sweet Sophie Gene.

Balls.

I do want her to be healthy.  I do want her to feel comfortable in her skin.  I do want her to enjoy physical activities like I never have.  But I guess I'm not doing enough to facilitate that.

SO, yesterday we went to the pool after school and had a really fun time.  I'm going to TRY and go swimming with her (which she loves) 2 or 3 times a week an see if a little exercise will make us both feel more fit and less fat.  (Although getting the legs, pits, and nether region swim-worthy 3 times a week is just a bit more with the hedge clipping than I generally like to do in the winter months.)

We're also going to menu plan together, and spend more time in the kitchen feeding ourselves in healthy ways.

Is that to much?  Is it too little?

Damn.

Comment whore wants to know:  What do I do about the kids who are calling her fat?  Talk to teachers?  Parents?  Ignore it?

 

A quick Soph (and Madeline) said...

So, big sis Mandy and I were shuttling Sophie and Madeline over to Grandma's house on New Year's Day, and the following conversation ensued.

Me:  Wow!  Look at all the snirt.
Madeline:  What's snirt?
Mandy:  Oh, it's something they said in Minnesota.  It's that gross mixture of snow and dirt on the side of the road.
Sophie: (Thinking for a minute)  What about snee?
Me: (Thick as a plank)  What's snee?
Madeline: (Catching on immediately) Yellow snow!  Snow and pee!
Sophie:  (Definitely on a roll now) And snoop!
Madeline: Or snoo!
Sophie: (Triumphantly) And SNARF!

Somehow, I don't think this is what the Eskimos had in mind with their 100 different words for snow.

Only 2 days

of Christmas Vacation are left.

As always, depending on the slant of memory, it seems like it just started, and at the same time like it's been ages since I rolled out of bed at 6:00, hit the carpet running, and found myself sitting at my desk by 7:30.

Two other teachers and I held a SIOP training (strategies for English language learners and limited English proficient students) yesterday.  Getting ready was SO stressful.  The prospect of standing up in front of peers and telling them what's what is scary as fuck.  But, if I'm being totally honest, I think I did ok.  I always over prepare, particularly when I'm nervous, and that lead to a bit of a rushed feeling, but other than that, I don't think I made too much of a tit of myself.

(Want to know something else?  As much as I dreaded it, and as nerve wracking as it was, teaching a group of literate, reasonably interested, well behaved adults was kind of...fun.  They even got most of my jokes.  In another life time, far into the future, it may be something I wouldn't mind doing as a regular gig.)

Christmas came and went with very little fanfare at our house.  Soph didn't really need, or surprisingly want much this year, and seemed pretty content with the few things we/Santa picked out for her.  She also really likes the keyboard Grandma gave her, and we like it too, now that we bought some head phones.  In addition to a few toys, she wanted one of those rolly-back-and-forth-ball-ice cream makers, so I went ahead and bought her one.  Ultimately E seems to have had the most fun with it.  The oatmeal scotchie cookie dough batch was pretty dang delicious.

Mandy came for a visit, and Soph was thrilled to see the Albuquerque cousins.  Things got off to a pretty rocky start.  The Krause kids are more independent, focused players, and Soph prefers everyone all mixed up together, engaging in as many shenanigans as possible.  But, by the last few days of the visit, they found some common ground and had a really fun time together.

Which leads to today.  Erik and Janz are doing a little sparring in the garage.  Sophie just delivered me a special drink (I'm pretty sure it's water and honey and maybe a little ketchup.) and is working through her usual Saturday morning activities.  She's played orphanage with her dolls, fed the Hungry Hungry hippos their breakfast, listened to me read her a little Junie B. Jones, and watched a little Sponge Bob.

As for me, I started my period at about 6:00 this morning, and am feeling pretty pokey.  It's time for me to get my ass out of bed, and begin to undeck the halls.  Which is not nearly as fun as decking them.  Less with the carols, snacks, and nog.  More with the sweating and swearing.  I may have to have an un-decking mai tai.  That's traditional, isn't it?

Comment whore wants to know:   When do you take down all of your Christmas paraphernalia?  Care to join me in a traditional pack-up-the-shit mai tai?

13 years...

of marriage.

Wow.

Yesterday was my wedding anniversary.  Well, mine and Erik's.

We're planning a trip to Zion National park this weekend.  It's where we spent our honeymoon, and where we like to return to just chill and reconnect.

The plan is to leave Saturday and return Monday, which led me to apply for a day off of work.  I can either take a personal day, no questions asked, and pay for a sub, OR I can apply for an "emergency" day which requires me to give an explanation.

I wrote, "It's my wedding anniversary and we have a special event planned."  How's that for a euphemism for, "Planning on having hotel sex"?

Spoiled little shit

So I was at my mom's house on Sunday going through her old Christmas decorations.  We found the old advent calendar that my Granny (dad's mom) used to send us every year.  It's a long embroidered candle with a with 24 rings.  She'd tie some kind of little wrapped gift on each ring, and we four kids would each take turns opening a present until Christmas day.

It's one of my favorite Christmas memories.

When we found it, and my mom offered to give it to me, I was thrilled and touched.  I went to the store today, and carefully selected some little gifts for Sophie and for Janzen.  I wrapped them in tissue, tied them with ribbon, and attached them on the candle.

Tonight, I unveiled the calendar, ceremoniously untied the first gift, (some lavender fizzy bath hearts) and gave it to Sophie to open. 

Her response?

"Oh crap.  I don't really like these."

So, I took the calendar down, told her I was going to give the presents to someone who would appreciate them, and sent her to bed.

Comment whore wants to know:  Should I give her a second chance?

What do Vikings say?

It's not "Aaarrggh."  That's pirates.  Maybe "Yawp"?

 

So much to be thankful for...

There just really is no way to express it.

The bird's in the oven.  Li'l sis Katy is chillin', catching up on old Buffy comics.  The boys are in the back playing video games (of course) and Soph and I are watching a little Kung Fu Panda on the telly.

Janz brought along his Viking helmet to wear while devouring the feast.  I guess I'll go ahead and let him wear it, as long as he also puts on a clean shirt.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Because I promised myself I would...

here is today's blog.

Blogging is the closest thing I have to a hobby (sad) so I'm determined to spend some time at it every day.

(Sits and waits for inspiration.)

(Considers feeding Sophie a Kid Cuisine for dinner.)

(Gets up and microwaves least healthy meal known to man for Sophie.)

(Returns)

(Wonders if should admit that daughter is eating dinner in front of the TV.  In her room.  No.  Don't tell them.  The frozen dinner is enough.  Combined with the tv, in the room no less, crosses the line from "keepin' it real" to "admitting defeat.")

(Casts about for something.  Anything.)

(Twilight?  Would they think I am a total middle aged teen romance reading/watching freak?  It wasn't TERRIBLE.  Fine cinema, no; cheezy, yes; vapid, at times; entertaining, well, yeah.  And I did say Cedric Diggory was super hot YEARS ago.  YEARS.  Except for those times when he looks like Pete Doherty.  But they probably wouldn't believe me.)

(Should I mention E's colon issues?  No way.  He'd shit.)

Well, apparently I have nothing to say today.  Here's hoping that tomorrow Sophie says fuck in front of her grandma or something.

Comment whore wants to know:  Why did the chicken cross the road?

Apparently, she's for change

After I told her for the 100th time that no, she does NOT have a boyfriend, and that she and Aiden can be good friends, but not boyfriend/girlfriend, Soph answered,

"Well mom, Barack Obama is president now, so that means we have FREEDOM!"

20 minutes to myself

And no idea what to do with them, other than waste them.

I think I need a hobby.

Does blogging count as a hobby?

I guess it might if I did it more than once every fiscal quarter.

I'm looking for the passion people, and am not exactly sure where to find it.

In less self absorbed news, (actually, not really) this year I will be cooking my first official Thanksgiving dinner.  My folks will be in Logan, and E's don't have firm plans, plus E has wanted me to cook him a turkey for 12 years now, so I guess this is the year.

I have provided everything but the turkey at many, many Thanksgiving feasts.  I make a mean pumpkin pie (my secret ingredient is real maple syrup) and can do sweet potatoes, cranberries, and whatever else with no problem.  But I've never stuffed and cooked a turkey.  Ever.

I hope I don't fuck it up.

I'll only be feeding 5, myself included, so hopefully, I'll be able to find a fairly small bird.  Li'l sis Katy will be there (thank God, as she is a very good cook and even better company) and because I'll be in my own kitchen/house and not mother or mother-in-law's, this year I can decree, "Let there be cocktails" and there will be.  Sweet.

Riveting, ain't it?

In first grade news, the saying "Easy-peasy-cotton-cheesy" (said when a request has been made that is too easy to even justify.  As in, "Soph, could you please clean up the mess you made with the frosting and peanut butter?"  "Sure Mom!  That's easy-peasy-cotton-cheesy!")has been officially replaced with "Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy,"

That is all.

Comment whore wants to know:  Have you missed me?

The Bird

Ahhh…the bird.

Who doesn’t love flipping the bird?  I do.  My students do.  My daughter does.

That’s right.  Sophie Gene loves the bird.

Where she learned the bird, I can only guess, but she explained to me recently that she has become a surreptitious bird flipper.

That is to say, she knows she shouldn’t do it, but it’s just so fun she can’t help it, so she often flips the bird…

•          In her pocket.

•          Inside her desk.

•          Under the covers.

•          While in the bath-tub.

•          In the back seat where I can’t see her.

She knows it’s not NICE to flip the bird, but isn’t really sure why, and doesn’t seem to care.  It’s the actual action of poking that little middle finger up that she likes.  In addition to the covert bird flipping described above, she often “accidentally” flips the bird when counting, pointing, and otherwise gesturing.

My favorite was when she shot me a kiss (you know…you kiss your pointer finger, and then make a gun and shoot the kiss to whomever) on her middle finger.  When I calmly inquired, “What the hell?” she explained, “Mom, that was a love bird!”

Jump Back!

Damn it's been a long time.  Let's pretend it hasn't; shall we?

So.  Halloween.

Like all 6 year olds, Soph had been planning Halloween 08's costume since Halloween 07.  She considered Annie, Pikachu,Tinkerbell,and about a hundred other characters.  Then, as October rolled around, she had narrowed her choices to either, ahem, "Grave Yard Fairy" or "50s Librarian."

I'm pretty sure she saw the grave yard fairy in a costume magazine, but I still was pretty confounded as to how to pull it off.  As for 50s librarian, can I just offer, what the fuck?

Long story short, I came across a 50s soda fountain girl costume, bought it, and told her it would have to do.  Amazingly, she was ok with that.

Behold.

 

Of course, she went to 2 parties, plus trick-or-treating, and wore a different costume to each event.   She decided to be a princess for the first one.  I broke down and let her wear a little make-up; I mean, it was Halloween, after all.
Frankly, I don't think I took a picture of the actual trick-or-treating ensemble.  I should have.  She went with "50s princess" for that one, and was wearing a baby blue princess dress up with the pink cat glasses and a pony tale.  I thought of talking her out of it for about 2 seconds, then realized that was absurd.  It's her damn costume--why should I do anything but make sure she's warm and reasonably decent?

I'll close with 5 points of interest regarding me, as, apparently, I am a bit more than "Sophie's mom."

• I'm making Thanksgiving for the first time this year.
• I just bought new walking shoes.
• I love pumpkin pie ice cream
• I just read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.
• I think it might be time to look back into the anti-depressant meds.  14 hours of sleep a night might be pushing it just a tad.

Oh.  I'm on Facebook.  Mostly for the Scramble.  Which I'm surprisingly bad at, yet still enjoy playing.   So drop by and challenge me to a game, if you so desire.

What's new? What's old?

What's new?

• A truly, truly hideous haircut.  There are no words, really.
• Watching Monarch of the Glen via Netflix.  It's lovely and benign, and if I'm being honest, it's loveliness and benignity are probably symptomatic of my current spiritual/personal/emotional rut.
• Ants.  In my house.
• Jasper Fford novels--the Tuesday Next series in particular.  Again, benign, though not perhaps lovely--brain candy though, without a doubt.

What's old?

• Fear for the planet in general, my daugher in particular.  I'm having one of those days where I'm worried that despite all my efforts, she will be kidnapped or raped or killed in a horrific freak accident or at the very least, will inherit a world with no resources or have to live through WW3.
• Cosmic brain fuck over finally deciding that there probably is no god, and no point, and living in a human body is a weird coincidence that doesn't make sense combined with guilt for not just being grateful for food, clothing, a reasonably peaceful town, and a healthy child.

Send me a mental hug, will you?

Did I mention that school started last Thursday?

Because it did.

I am officially ass deep in back-to-school shenanigans.

This year (fingers crossed) is shaping up to be a good one.  The kids seem to be fairly human.  Sophie is in 1st grade full time, so I don't have to taxi her around during my prep period.  None of my 11th graders are reading below an 8th grade level.  So--that should be swell.

Of course, I've gotten in the bad habit of checking the sheriff's office web page, and looking the jail bookings and most wanted page.  Sigh.  Two of my former students are on the most wanted page, and one or two show up at least weekly in the jail bookings.  I need to quit doing that.  It makes me feel like crap.

Time to go correct stuff.

She better have had the time of her life...

because Sophie pretty much just had her last birthday blowout.  Next year she can have a couple of friends sleep over, but the ginormous hoopla has seen its last year.

What can I say?  The girl is popular.  She's the only granddaughter in town, and most of our family lives here.  She goes to two schools.  She know a shit load of people.

The party was at the park, in a reserved pavilion (reserved people.  That means back the fuck off when I'm packing up with, in all reality, 2 house left on my reservation and you want to use the pavilion which you did NOT reserve for your little family function.)   We ended up with 16 kids (18 if you count the two crashers) and about as many adults.

The bounce house was fun, and no one needed stitches.  (There were two serious head bonks and 1 kid stepped on a bee.)

Katy's cupcake rainbow was oohed and aahed over, and Sophie particularly loved it, (although for some reason she decided to have all of the kids at the party blow out her candles for her and make their own wishes.)

All in all, a success.