Encore!

We continue to stay busy over here, taking full advantage of the ushering in of summertime activities.

First, there was our first beach day yesterday.


It was a great time, thanks in part due to our meeting of another mom out there with her twin boys who happened to be very close in age to Playette. The kids really enjoyed one another and the other mom was of the more-awesome-than-I-am variety because she had an abundance of snacks. Playette even ate a half-sandwich she was offered. Which is amazing. She doesn't even eat sandwiches! At least not my sandwiches. Hmph.

Turns out that not only did one of the boys have Ds, but he also goes to Playette's school. He's in the morning class and she's in the afternoon. (well, sort of, but it's a holiday, so I refuse to think about the school sitch right now)

Anyway, FUN.

And since then, Miss Playette Keys has been entertaining me with her musical abilities. I figured I'd share a couple of her recent concerts with you.





My girl loves to sing. She's always singing something, whether it's a song on the radio or one of her own composition. Usual lyrics include: Mama, Lea, Daddy, night night, wash hands, let's go, etc.

Many, many thanks for Cate for her wonderful suggestion of the M&D Birthday Cake set. Cate always has the best toy ideas. Like the Alphabet Bus, also a huge hit in this house.

Today, I'm thinking that we may head to the neighborhood pool for a bit. I mean, if I have to wash this child's sandy head and deal with the dramatic hot mess that comes with that action, I need to make it really worth my time and get some chlorine all up in there, too.

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To all of the men and women who serve, including my very own BD, I'm proud of you today and every day.

A Day in the Life

Today was a day much like many others in so many ways, but there was a little something special about it, too.

Playette and I got up and going early. She helped me check things off of the to-do list, one by one. She charmed the people we encountered at Kinkos, Weight Watchers, the Post Office, Exchange, Commissary, and even drivers in their cars that we pulled up next to at stoplights. We had lunch out and had the good fortune (??) to run into the local cupcake truck I'd been hearing about. Cupcakes weren't on the menu for today (that's tomorrow), but I'm a sucker for tiramisu, so when I saw that flavor, it was a wrap.

I have no good reason for the second cupcake other than I am a glutton. And I'm still going tomorrow. Baby steps.

We came home and watched a movie or slept on the beanbag or left the room and brought back random household items depending on who you were and what point in time it was. But we got through the whole movie, so that should count for something.

We walked around the neighborhood, enjoying the cooler evening temps, and then headed home for dinner and a little playtime before bed.

It was nice. As regular as regular can be. And I soaked it in like sunshine.

rOTten

I had to fire the Occupational Therapist yesterday.

It was our second visit with her. I thought it was bad last week, but this week was even worse.

I thought she couldn't remember my child's name because they had just met. I gave her some leeway. Even though I corrected her over and over and over again.

I allowed her to discount what I knew to be true about my child only so that she could eventually figure out that I was right after all.

I sat in the room, amidst total chaos, and realized that there was no way that my daughter was ever going to be able to focus in this environment.

I heard her say that our chief concern was something that she had no idea how to address.

I watched her get frustrated when my child didn't answer when she continued to call her the wrong name.

I saw her watching the clock the entire time and then end each session early.

I heard her ask me to change our appointment time and then look bothered when I said that would not be possible as we had a conflict.

I saw her discount my child's abilities. "Oh, that's much too difficult for her," she said. "Really?" I replied. Because she does something similar at home and has been for months.

I'm sure there was more.

But any of these should have been enough.

So, in my most calm voice, doing my best to protect her from my truest emotions, I politely told her that we would no longer be needing her services. She was welcome to do whatever she had planned with that precious 45 minute slot after all. Because we wouldn't be back.

See, here's the thing. My child is almost four. She's been seeing therapists in some capacity since she was six weeks old. This was not my first trip to the rodeo.

As much as I don't want to be that mom, that mom gets things done. She knows that her time is precious, as is her child, and wasting resources gets us nowhere.

It's tiring, draining, being that mom.

But that mom? She's getting 45 minutes of life back next week.

Maybe we'll go get ice cream instead.

Using a spoon counts as OT, right?

In all honesty, I'm proud of myself. Part of me wanted to just give it more time. Maybe another session or two. This place is so close to the house. They're just getting to know one another. It'll be awkward when we come back to the office for Physical Therapy. Maybe I'm just being too quick to judge. Are my expectations too high?

And then I came to my senses.

Trust yourselves, ladies.

You have instincts for a reason. Your kids deserve the best and so do you.

And here I was thinking that it was just my kid that was getting therapy.

Lessons are everywhere.

Out of Character

So, last week, when I was feeling all motivated about the NDSC Conference, I checked Kayak and saw a pretty good price for tickets. Well, as good as they come these days. Flying is 'spensive!

"Ah, cool. I'll go back and get those later."

[cue the laughter of the universe]

Of course, when I went back, the tickets had gone up over $100. Each.

And since BD needs to come home a little earlier for work, his ticket was already more than ours to begin with.

iPouted.

To put it mildly.

Seriously. I was pissed like someone had stolen the money out of my bank account. In my mind, I knew that I never had the tickets to begin with, but still. I mourned the loss of that money and all that I could have done with it. Like buy really big cupcakes.

Thus began the obsessive checking and re-checking of Kayak.

I put a daily reminder on my phone, but there was really no need. All on my own, I checked as soon as I woke up, before I went to bed, and sometimes in between.

My chest got all stabby as the prices kept going up and up and up.

I began feeling bad about registering for the conference because, if I hadn't, we could just bow out gracefully, right?

*sigh*

And then this morning it happened. The clouds parted and a fare that was $5 less than the first elusive one popped up. BD's ticket had gone back down as well. Oh Happy Day!

They're still 'spensive, but what're you gonna do?

I bought them.

And it took forever, what with all the verifying and extra security measures that you have to go through. They also threw in the need for yet another password to use my debit card and I had no freaking clue what that was so I had to recreate it and then, of course, I remembered the last one when I tried to make that my password and they were all "you already used that one." Ugh.

But, anyway, we're going. For sure now. On an aeroplane. Or six.

That's what I get for trying to do stuff all early.

And I know that I need to take the Kayak app off of my phone immediately because if the prices go down again? I.WILL.LOSE.IT.

As a reminder, for anyone heading that way, there are discounts available on AirTran (20%) and American (5%). Not that I got to use either one. *grumble grumble*

Also...today is Day 10 of Insanity, in case you were wondering. This whole ticket thing kept me from working out....What? Do it now? But, but...Fine then.

I'm pouting again.

I still want a cupcake.

Birthday! Birthday! Birthday!

My kid is obsessed with birthdays.

For the first couple of years of her life, it was easy to convince myself that my philosophy of no shindigs wasn't bothering her one bit. She had no idea what she was missing.

But now? Ugh. She totally knows.

She loved her party last year and, personally, I think that should count for at least two celebrations, if not more.

Kid parties are just. not. my. thing.

Starting a couple of weeks ago though...the onslaught began.

First, there was a party at her school.

Then, she wore a birthday hat around the house for several days.


Next, we turned the TV on and they were celebrating a birthday on Yo Gabba Gabba. It just wouldn't stop!

She's forever saying/signing "happy birthday" and "presents" and "candle" and "party" and "cake" and "dance" and singing the song that goes along with it all.

Then, we went to a party on Saturday. She was so excited and enjoyed herself immensely.



And now I feel like I'm starting to cave.

We've got just under a month until my baby girl turns four.

[insert every baby-to-kid cliché here]

Crap. I think I'm gonna have to come up with something.

Something small. Something small. Something small.

It better be something small.

Bullets

• I finally registered for the NDSC conference. Funny that I said "finally" when it's wayyyy before the deadline for when the price goes up. It's usually more my style to wait until then.


• I guess that's why we still don't have plane tickets. Procrastination FTW!


• Someone I was friends with a long time ago died in a way that makes me very sad to think about. A lot of fun memories have come back to my mind since finding out that his life was cut short. I remember that my mother really liked him and that makes me smile. I also remember how pissed my mother was when the group of us "borrowed" her car and drove to the place that I now live and stayed overnight. If my child is like me when she's 18, I totally deserve it.


• Laughing makes me feel better.


• I have way too many papers in my house. They are in piles. Everywhere. And include lots of unopened mail.


• I will be 35 in 45 days. That makes me think of a lot of things.


• Like, "What can I accomplish before then?"


• And Advanced Maternal Age. *gag*


• By the way, I started Insanity yesterday.


• The Fit Test made my calves ache.


• I'm scared to do today's workout.


• Playette started Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) Therapy last Thursday. Today is day 2. They're still in the "getting to know each other" phase. What I like so far: it's at our house. What I don't like so far: 3 hours a day, twice a week is a lot for this mama! If you have any experience with ABA, please feel free to share.


• Playette continued going to her new school, the less-shiny place that we have to pay for, while I was on reserve duty. They took pictures. They are hilarious. I can't bring myself to toss the proofs even though I have no intention of purchasing them. Ever. Never.


• She's still enrolled in public school. She will obviously not be receiving an award for Perfect Attendance since, well, she hasn't been there in a month and we're still plan-less for moving forward. PoTY!


• But if she does go back? She's allowed to be picked up in front of our house again. I wonder what my landlord said to the board, exactly, to get them to switch up.


• This neighborhood isn't all bad. They had Margarita Friday at the clubhouse last week and we got the opportunity to meet some nice neighbors. Apparently, we have more than our share of Navy SEALs in this little enclave. I think that's pretty cool.


• Job hunting isn't fun, but I continue to do it. Just like laundry.


• I have the most amazing video of my kid doing something but I can't post it because of pervs on the web. You'll just have to trust me on this one. Or come to San Antonio in August and ask me to show you on my phone.


• Are we really going to San Antonio in August?!


• I've been cooking a lot more. BD bought me a food processor and it's awesome and so much easier that actual cutting. Yay!


• Every time I add another bullet, I'm really just trying to avoid working out.


• Ok, fine...

A Dangerous Mind

Sometimes, just for S&Gs, I like to offer a task to Playette for the simple delight of seeing how she'll respond.

I know my kid is bright. I don't care what anyone's random assessment or evaluation says about this percentile or that developmental age, because I know what I know. This kid's cylinders are firing and I love to see them in action.

So, this afternoon, after Playette had completely jacked her shirt up with the remnants of 1-2 bananas (we're still not sure) that she stole off of the kitchen counter and shoved in her mouth faster than we could even notice, I cleaned her up and asked her to go upstairs, pick out another shirt, and put it on.

Sounds simple enough, right?

But this is big. If you have a kid like my kid, I didn't even have to tell you that.

Just so you know, she's not able to say the words I said to her all in a row like that. But I knew that she knew that I said. No question about it. Her receptive language skills are awesome.

And then I waited.

She went upstairs.

Closed her door.

And then a few minutes later, she came down like this.


New pants. Backwards. No shirt. Over the shorts she had on.

I had to laugh.

Honestly, there are times that I get frustrated, sometimes to the point of tears, when she doesn't get something. Or if she's not telling me something that I know she knows. I do let it get to me...sometimes...and usually I kick myself for it afterwards because that has sooo much to do with me and my issues and not her as a person at all.

It's a delicate balance, attempting to keep expectations high, yet realistic. I don't always pull that off perfectly.

But today? It was just funny. And I appreciated what she did know.

She knew to leave me and go upstairs.

When I went up to see if she had destroyed her room in the process, I learned that she knew to go to her closet and open it up.


She knew to grab a new piece of clean clothing from a hanger.


She knew to put the clothing on her body.

She knew to come back to me with a look of beaming pride on her face to show me what she had done.


I really had no idea how she'd come back or even if she would, when I sent her upstairs to get that new shirt. But what I've learned time and time again is that I have to give her the opportunity to impress me. She rises to meet challenges and I think that's the most important thing I need to keep at the forefront of my mind. She won't always get it right away, but what are the chances that she'll ever get it if no one ever expects her to, y'know?

And, by the way, if you're totally amazed at my mad digital art skillz as displayed in that last photo? You're in luck. I'm unemployed and looking for things to do that don't involve cleaning my house or going to doctor's appointments. Hurry though. I expect an onslaught of jobs coming up from this post.

I Blame Blogger

The last time I posted was over two weeks ago.

Sure, the site may not have been down that entire time, but since I did try to write something yesterday and I couldn't? That totally counts as a valid excuse for not staying in touch.

Well, that and the fact that my reserve duty time didn't exactly leave me bored and alone in a hotel room for any good length of time like most of my trips. I worked all day and partied all night.

I mean, I didn't party every night, but the nights I did party kinda seeped into the nights that I didn't. Because I don't party often. I'm out of practice. Quite the cheap date, I am. Plus, on the night that I partied the hardest? I ended up sitting and crying on a curb.

You do not want to take this old lady to a club. You can now never say I didn't warn you.

Most evenings, I found a way to workout in a new and exciting or much-missed way (Tae Bo with my peeps! Zumba at my old church! Running through the nation's capital!) and then I used that as the ultimate justification to eat like every meal was my last. The cupcakes and the burgers I consumed, alone, were enough to feed a small village. But then I also had to have the Greek restaurant I've always wanted to try and then the Thai I missed eating and the pizza I'd heard so much about and the white chocolate bread pudding and the special strawberry lemonade drink...and, and, and. Yeesh.

I dared to weigh-in at Weight Watchers on the Saturday after my first week was done. It wasn't pretty. So I cried. Yes, again.

This weight loss thing is a beast, yo. I've been meaning to talk about it for a while. Have you ever had the thought that you'd be so happy if you could fit into those skinny jeans just one. more. time?

Well, I didn't have any skinny jeans, but I bought some. At the end of December, right before we left California, BD went with me to Banana Republic and I bought jeans that made me feel like a rockstar. I was 3 pounds from my personal goal and it felt amazing.

A week later, those jeans didn't fit.

Almost 5 months later, I don't think I can get them above my knees.

Maintenance...it's more difficult than I ever anticipated.

I wish I could say that's Blogger's fault, too, but I know it's all me. We moved, I got lazy. Not with working out, really, because I've been into all kinds of things like Bootcamp and Zumba and Double Step and swimming and weights. I even joined a local running group full of crazy people that like to run up hills for an hour.

No, it's not the activity. It's the food.

This place is full of temptation and I've been succumbing on a regular basis.

It's totally unfair that I live walking distance from a Sonic and I've pretty much become a regular at the Dairy Queen and Chick-fil-A up the street.

These place simply did not exist in my small Central Cali coastal town. They're a lot easier to avoid that way, y'know?

I guess it's good that I'm acknowledging this now, before I blink and end up right back at my starting weight. Because I'm totally liable.

I'm up 10 pounds and if you add in those last 3, I've got 13 to go. That sounds like a mountain to me right now. Which is nutty, I know, considering that I'm still at 42 pounds lost. But it does. It seems insurmountable.

If anyone has any advice, I'm listening.

So...I came here to talk about what I've been up to lately (Mother's Day weekend in NYC via bus!, IEP meeting, doctor's appointments, etc.), but I guess this is weighing heavy (ha?) on my mind, so I'm dumping.

I need some motivation.

A kick in the pants.

Some accountability.

Something.

Anything.

Blah.