Journal bethanie's Journal: Kicky Shoes: $9/Blisters: FREE! 8
Aw, fuck it.
I had been working on another Movie Review JE. I've been watching a bunch of shit lately -- a lot of it really good. Yes, really good shit. Sounds like an oxymoron, but... well, maybe when it comes to me and the movies I like, it is.
Couldn't get into the Movie JE thing, though.
I got a book today and then found a bit of a nerve touched in helicobacter's journal and realized that maybe I should do a little bit more venting. Or maybe not venting. Maybe just a little bit of journaling.
So today I took the day off from going to the gym. Mondays I go in the morning for my regular workouts and again at night for my yoga class. So I figure I've earned a day off Tuesday. I was sore today, as usual. But in a good way.
Got the girls fed and dressed and we were actually IN the car and ON the road by 10 am! OK. Sneer if you will. But for me, it was an accomplishment.
Called my mom on the way into town ("town" where they actually have a mall [not that that was my destination], in a smallish city that is actually considered part of Metro Atlanta, but no more than 40 minutes away), as today would have been my dad's 59th birthday. She gave me a cookie for calling her. 'Cause my mom keeps score on shit like that. And what can I say, I try to be a good daughter.
But honestly, it was good to touch base with someone else who understands a bit of my grief and loss over my dad's death. My mom and I come at it from completely different places, of course, but we both loved him, and that's enough.
With my Good Daughter Duty out of the way for the morning, I was then free to enjoy the rest of the day engaged in good, old-fashioned, All-American Retail Therapy. First stop? Why, naturally: Big Red Dot Made in China Land!
Got a couple more pairs of workout pants for me ('cause up till now I've only had 4 pairs, which means doing laundry at *least* twice a week in order to get to the gym 6x/week, which is what I do) and a couple cute tops. And, of course, the aforementioned $9 shoes. (Webcams are fun.)
And school uniform stuff for Kiddo, 'cause the school administrators thought it would be a good idea to start up a dress code. Of course, they're only just notifying parents about it NOW, less than a month before school starts. A friend of mine (whose daughter also goes to that school) called me today, *livid* about it.
First, that no input was solicited from the parents (who *run* the fucking school -- all the work, all the money, EVERYthing comes from parents, but apparently we don't rank enough to get to sound off about uniforms before the decision is made by the administrators).
Second, it has been announced SO late (she had already gone out and bought her daughter's school wardrobe for the year) even though they had parents cutting $100+ checks to the school in JANUARY to save their kids' spots for next year's classes.
Third, this is supposed to be a "creativity" oriented school. It's not Montessori, but it's certainly the closest that anyone around here has ever come to it. And maybe getting everyone to dress alike isn't in line with that philosophy.
Personally, I don't give a shit about uniforms or not. I don't really think they're appropriate at this level because the kids are involved in all kinds of messy projects and so I typically send Kiddo to school in the same kinds of clothes that I would send her outside to go play in the mud in.
In any case, this friend of mine is a LOT more well-established in the community than I am, and spent all day on the phone with people raising a stir about it.
So everything that I bought for Kiddo today, I'm holding onto the receipts for, and waiting until the last possible minute to launder. 'Cause I have a feeling that by 1 October (the date this new dress code is supposed to be officially "in effect") it will be a long distant memory. And Kiddo will be wearing her mud clothes to school, as usual.
I did my typical "take care of the kids but forget about myself" thing this morning and left the house without eating any breakfast. So by 12:30 walking around Target I was starting to feel a little light-headed. Realizing that I wasn't going to be able to solider on and get done with my shopping trip in an efficient two hours as I'd planned (HA!), I broke down and treated myself and the kids to lunch at Atlanta Bread Company.
Rolled out my MacBook and dicked around on that while the girls took their time with lunch. There are a few things about it that I'm not happy with, but battery life is NOT one of them. I was running there for over an hour -- and still had 60% of my battery when I left. Compared to the old 20-minute monster (20 minutes is how long the battery would last), that's *wonderful*.
Got a kid's meal at ABC, which comes with a cookie. Which, thankfully, they don't give you until you go ask for it. AFTER the kid has eaten lunch. And it is my habit to have Kiddo go up to the counter and conduct the transaction on her own. She has been doing this since she was about 4 years old, and aside from having problems getting noticed by the person behind the counter (mostly because she's too short to be seen), has always done really well.
Until today.
For some reason, it took her about 20 minutes to finally get her cookie. First of all, she couldn't remember the name of what she wanted (a shortbread cookie), then she decided she wanted ME to do it for her. Then a guy cut in front of her in line. Then she couldn't remember the name of it... And so on and so forth.
I'm sure the people who were witnessing the whole event unfold thought me a *horribly* cruel and insensitive mother. After all, here was my otherwise lovely child, face splotchy and red from crying, terribly distraught over her desperation to get a cookie.
Certainly, I could have taken care of it in two seconds. Surely they thought I was too involved with my computer to attend to my child's needs. (Nevermind the fact that I was keeping a covert eye on her the whole time, monitoring what was going on and how she was doing.)
But what those people wouldn't have considered is the fact that my child is *perfectly* capable of getting her own cookie. That she tends towards passivity and will fuss and cry and expend MUCH more energy trying to get someone ELSE to do something for her than it would take for her just to do it herself. That I firmly believe in not doing something for a child that she is not *willing* to do for herself. That the natural consequences of the situation were quite enough to teach her the lesson at hand: If you want a cookie, ask for the cookie. If you won't ask for the cookie, you don't GET a cookie. Simple as that.
In the end, she GOT her cookie. And the lady behind the counter felt so sorry for her that she gave her an extra one. Which Kiddo then turned over to me (completely voluntarily!) which I then shared with her baby sister. And it was Good.
Rest of the trip went smoothly. Got myself a couple pair of much-needed jeans at much-reduced prices ($15 marked down from original $45). Got Hubby some much-needed new shirts, including a silk bowling shirt that stopped me in my tracks as I walked by it in the store. It's a sharp looking shirt. When Hubby tried it on tonight, his only comment was "I feel like the hay-SUS!"
Sometimes I find it hard to believe that part of my job description is dressing a 44-year-old man.
For supper tonight, I took it easy on myself and made a dish that has just recently been added to the growing list of family favorites ('cause I'm good like that). And the nice thing is, it's made from stuff that I *always* have around the house even if I haven't been to the store in a month. Really.
Guess I might as well put it in kind of a recipe format:
I had been working on another Movie Review JE. I've been watching a bunch of shit lately -- a lot of it really good. Yes, really good shit. Sounds like an oxymoron, but... well, maybe when it comes to me and the movies I like, it is.
Couldn't get into the Movie JE thing, though.
I got a book today and then found a bit of a nerve touched in helicobacter's journal and realized that maybe I should do a little bit more venting. Or maybe not venting. Maybe just a little bit of journaling.
So today I took the day off from going to the gym. Mondays I go in the morning for my regular workouts and again at night for my yoga class. So I figure I've earned a day off Tuesday. I was sore today, as usual. But in a good way.
Got the girls fed and dressed and we were actually IN the car and ON the road by 10 am! OK. Sneer if you will. But for me, it was an accomplishment.
Called my mom on the way into town ("town" where they actually have a mall [not that that was my destination], in a smallish city that is actually considered part of Metro Atlanta, but no more than 40 minutes away), as today would have been my dad's 59th birthday. She gave me a cookie for calling her. 'Cause my mom keeps score on shit like that. And what can I say, I try to be a good daughter.
But honestly, it was good to touch base with someone else who understands a bit of my grief and loss over my dad's death. My mom and I come at it from completely different places, of course, but we both loved him, and that's enough.
With my Good Daughter Duty out of the way for the morning, I was then free to enjoy the rest of the day engaged in good, old-fashioned, All-American Retail Therapy. First stop? Why, naturally: Big Red Dot Made in China Land!
Got a couple more pairs of workout pants for me ('cause up till now I've only had 4 pairs, which means doing laundry at *least* twice a week in order to get to the gym 6x/week, which is what I do) and a couple cute tops. And, of course, the aforementioned $9 shoes. (Webcams are fun.)
And school uniform stuff for Kiddo, 'cause the school administrators thought it would be a good idea to start up a dress code. Of course, they're only just notifying parents about it NOW, less than a month before school starts. A friend of mine (whose daughter also goes to that school) called me today, *livid* about it.
First, that no input was solicited from the parents (who *run* the fucking school -- all the work, all the money, EVERYthing comes from parents, but apparently we don't rank enough to get to sound off about uniforms before the decision is made by the administrators).
Second, it has been announced SO late (she had already gone out and bought her daughter's school wardrobe for the year) even though they had parents cutting $100+ checks to the school in JANUARY to save their kids' spots for next year's classes.
Third, this is supposed to be a "creativity" oriented school. It's not Montessori, but it's certainly the closest that anyone around here has ever come to it. And maybe getting everyone to dress alike isn't in line with that philosophy.
Personally, I don't give a shit about uniforms or not. I don't really think they're appropriate at this level because the kids are involved in all kinds of messy projects and so I typically send Kiddo to school in the same kinds of clothes that I would send her outside to go play in the mud in.
In any case, this friend of mine is a LOT more well-established in the community than I am, and spent all day on the phone with people raising a stir about it.
So everything that I bought for Kiddo today, I'm holding onto the receipts for, and waiting until the last possible minute to launder. 'Cause I have a feeling that by 1 October (the date this new dress code is supposed to be officially "in effect") it will be a long distant memory. And Kiddo will be wearing her mud clothes to school, as usual.
I did my typical "take care of the kids but forget about myself" thing this morning and left the house without eating any breakfast. So by 12:30 walking around Target I was starting to feel a little light-headed. Realizing that I wasn't going to be able to solider on and get done with my shopping trip in an efficient two hours as I'd planned (HA!), I broke down and treated myself and the kids to lunch at Atlanta Bread Company.
Rolled out my MacBook and dicked around on that while the girls took their time with lunch. There are a few things about it that I'm not happy with, but battery life is NOT one of them. I was running there for over an hour -- and still had 60% of my battery when I left. Compared to the old 20-minute monster (20 minutes is how long the battery would last), that's *wonderful*.
Got a kid's meal at ABC, which comes with a cookie. Which, thankfully, they don't give you until you go ask for it. AFTER the kid has eaten lunch. And it is my habit to have Kiddo go up to the counter and conduct the transaction on her own. She has been doing this since she was about 4 years old, and aside from having problems getting noticed by the person behind the counter (mostly because she's too short to be seen), has always done really well.
Until today.
For some reason, it took her about 20 minutes to finally get her cookie. First of all, she couldn't remember the name of what she wanted (a shortbread cookie), then she decided she wanted ME to do it for her. Then a guy cut in front of her in line. Then she couldn't remember the name of it... And so on and so forth.
I'm sure the people who were witnessing the whole event unfold thought me a *horribly* cruel and insensitive mother. After all, here was my otherwise lovely child, face splotchy and red from crying, terribly distraught over her desperation to get a cookie.
Certainly, I could have taken care of it in two seconds. Surely they thought I was too involved with my computer to attend to my child's needs. (Nevermind the fact that I was keeping a covert eye on her the whole time, monitoring what was going on and how she was doing.)
But what those people wouldn't have considered is the fact that my child is *perfectly* capable of getting her own cookie. That she tends towards passivity and will fuss and cry and expend MUCH more energy trying to get someone ELSE to do something for her than it would take for her just to do it herself. That I firmly believe in not doing something for a child that she is not *willing* to do for herself. That the natural consequences of the situation were quite enough to teach her the lesson at hand: If you want a cookie, ask for the cookie. If you won't ask for the cookie, you don't GET a cookie. Simple as that.
In the end, she GOT her cookie. And the lady behind the counter felt so sorry for her that she gave her an extra one. Which Kiddo then turned over to me (completely voluntarily!) which I then shared with her baby sister. And it was Good.
Rest of the trip went smoothly. Got myself a couple pair of much-needed jeans at much-reduced prices ($15 marked down from original $45). Got Hubby some much-needed new shirts, including a silk bowling shirt that stopped me in my tracks as I walked by it in the store. It's a sharp looking shirt. When Hubby tried it on tonight, his only comment was "I feel like the hay-SUS!"
Sometimes I find it hard to believe that part of my job description is dressing a 44-year-old man.
For supper tonight, I took it easy on myself and made a dish that has just recently been added to the growing list of family favorites ('cause I'm good like that). And the nice thing is, it's made from stuff that I *always* have around the house even if I haven't been to the store in a month. Really.
Guess I might as well put it in kind of a recipe format:
Buttered Noodles
Boil 1 package of egg noodles (I usually use medium, tonight, I used wide. Both are equally scrumptious) and drain. While noodles are VERY hot, drop in 1/2 to 2/3 stick of room temp[ish] butter (do NOT use margarine. Margarine is baaaad. Mmmmkaaaay?), 2 Tbsp. dried parsley, 1/4 to 1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese, and cayenne pepper, salt, and black pepper to taste (and *please* use some cayenne... PLEASE?! I know you think it's too spicy, but really, just the tiniest little sprinkle... just TRY it. It's *sooo* much better with a little cayenne in there -- it doesn't even burn the tiniest little bit!!!)
Stir thoroughly until butter is melted and seasonings are evenly distributed. Serve hot with some steamed veggies. (Peas and carrots go *great* when dumped right in with the whole mess!)
And I don't know how I did it, folks, but I got through the whole damn day without a drink. And by drink, I do indeed mean a tasty adult beverage containing a face-numbing quantity of alcohol. These days, I'm giving myself a gold star for every one of those I can claim (days without drinking, not the drinks themselves).
So Happy Birthday to you, Dad. And God bless America, where we are free to dress our kids the way school administrators tell us to, people can freely judge strangers' parenting, and a plethora of retail opportunities abound! AMEN!!!
Observing Parents (Score:2)
I take Mercer to the park and zoo a lot, and when he plays on the jungle gyms and playgrounds I go up with him since he doesn't yet have the sense or balance for me to be comfortable with him on the higher levels. Falling from 3 feet is a good learning experience, falling from 8 not so much. Mostly I just stand in the center and watch and encourage him to go higher and faster. He's a
Re:Observing Parents (Score:2)
From wherever it is that I am sitting, I can see all possible routes of escape, and am most quickly able to intervene at the one which poses the greatest threat of danger to her (like the door out to the parking lot, for example).
I put my peripheral vision sensors on high alert... And I'm good to go.
Ha! Washing gym clothes after each use? (Score:2)
I don't re-use t-shirts, but I do wear the same gym shorts and sports bra for 1-2 weeks before washing. (And I still smell better than the smelly guy who likes to use the elliptical machine right next to you when there are 7 more open.)
Re:Ha! Washing gym clothes after each use? (Score:2)
But I'm workin' out in Georgia. In the summertime. HARD.
And I wear clothes that are basically skin-tight, so they absorb ALL the sweat I produce. And MAN do I get sweaty.
That said, I also am really sensitive to smell. I don't mind other people's B.O., but being able to smell my own is a distraction.
I do use the same bra for a few days before washing -- I just make sure to hang it up so it can dry overnight.
....Bethanie....
Exercise (Score:1)
I should give myself gold stars for going. What started with a "Well, I'll go tomorrow. Or I'll do it five hours straight on Saturday" has turned into several weeks of, "It's out of the way, and I really need to save up my gas cash for tuition this Fall."
Nevermind that I honestly enjoy the form of exercise I've chosen. There's something about subjecting twenty people to jPop and 70s cliche hits that makes exercise-dancing so much more satisfying.
Recipe (Score:2)
Well you know what they say... (Score:1)
Re:Well you know what they say... (Score:2)
That hurt.
But not as much as when I got into the bathtub with the kids last night. *That* was downright uncomfortable.
However, I have found that there are only a few painful days (and really, just hours) before I get a pair of shoes broken in enough so that there are NO more blisters.
This is my 6th pair of heels. I've decided to just start wearin