I’m Not Here Right Now

Hi there! My blog has moved and since you are here instead of there, you must have missed the party where I gave away flat screen tv’s and diamond encrusted watches engraved with my new information. Please send an e-mail to crazyinthemaking@gmail.com with your name, social security number, current bank account totals, and any other information I might need to pass judgment on you, and I will consider sending you a link to my new blog. If you do not receive a response within 3-10 business days consider yourself unworthy of playing naked in my kiddie pool.

Smooches!

JaimeLynne

The First First Day Approaches

It crept up on me while I was too busy with shopping, school supply lists, doctor check ups, and being a working mom, but it’s tomorrow. The first day of school. My heart is already breaking.

We go to school tonight to meet her teacher, drop off school supplies, and get the lay of the land. As I put her in her car seat this morning, tucking her blanket around her, nestling her white rabbit in her arms as she slept, everything in me cried out at the wrongness of it. My sweet Angel Cakes could not possibly be old enough to go to school!

She still needs to snuggle her bunny when sleeping. She sleeps with the blanket that was a part of her nursery set. She needs kisses placed in each hand to hold tight before she sleeps in case she wakes up missing me. She still needs her car seat with the back on! Shouldn’t there be some law that says if they can’t sit in a booster car seat that they aren’t old enough to go to school!?

As I write this I hear the whispers, she is ready. She goes up to bed by herself and waits for you to tuck her in. She gets herself dressed and gets her own cereal. She makes friends with everyone she meets. Isn’t the fact that she is still clinging to you and allowing you to cling to her because she knows you are struggling to let her go another indication that she is ready? Doesn’t that show she has reached a level of maturity where she is considering others feelings? Yes, she is ready.

My heart cries out that this is a step further from me, she doesn’t need me like she once did. That no one can love her and take care of her like I can. My mind tells me that the ties that bind us as mother and daughter are strong enough. That she will always need me. That she is taking a step into becoming a wonderful person she will be. That she is doing it fearlessly, with such confidence and poise, leaves me breathless.

My head knows she is ready, my heart is just still adjusting.

So tonight I will take her to school. I will meet with all the other parents who are struggling just like I am to let their son or daughter take that first step out into the world alone. I will smile at the teacher who will be my daughter’s guide through this first year and nod as she tells me it will be okay. Tomorrow I will pack her lunch for the first time, braid her hair, and get her dressed in her chosen outfit. I will walk with her hand in mine to class for the first time. I will try to remember that she is not walking away from me, but toward the person she will become. I will try to keep the tears I already know will come, inside until I am alone at home. I will dry my tears and fix my make up in time to be waiting at the school doors when she is done.

I will smile and tell her how proud of her I am for taking that first step. I will treat her as the ‘Big Girl’ she is and try not to cling to the baby she once was. I will be a mom to the amazing girl I was blessed with, until I can no longer be her mom. (Which for the record, will never happen. She will never grow so old that I can no longer be her mom.) I will tell myself whatever lie I have to so I can make it through the day. Until the day I find I no longer have to lie to myself. Until my heart knows what my head already does. It’s going to be okay.

Tags: First Day Of School, Parenting

I’m Moving Again

I will be moving my blog again. I have been discovered so I am doing what I do best, running away. Once I set up my new blog I will be sure to e-mail it to those who I know might want (and I want) to have my new address. If you are one of my loyal readers who don’t comment please send me an e-mail. I will keep this e-mail open so I can keep in touch with you in the mean time, but there will also be a new one to reflect my new home. I was just starting to get comfortable here so it rips my heart out to do it. I’m sorry if my constant moving causes you any inconvenience, but I want and need my blog to be just mine. It has to be my safe place to vent and work through what is going on in my life if I want. Or just a place to post funny stories about my kids and pictures of them. It has to be my place where I can say, do, and be without others expectations or having to censor myself for fear of hurting someone’s feelings. With that in mind, I will ask that those of you who do get my new address, do not refer it here or on your blogs.

Smooches for the last time my loves,

JaimeLynne

Nail Polish Debate

I painted my nails yesterday. This may not sound news worthy to most, but it really is. Hubby, when he realized what I was doing asked me when the last time I painted them was. I thought really hard and responded truthfully. Before I got my very first job and could pay for a manicure. Seriously, that is one of the first things I did once I started working, and never looked back.

As long as I have been working I have been getting manicures and pedicures. When Hubby met me (and there was such a thing as disposable income) I was paying $50 a week to keep my nails pretty. It was one of the first things he noticed about me. My nails were long, beautiful, and very red. When we moved to our house in the cornfields it stopped. I was willing to drive 30 miles to see my nail lady, but 100 miles each way was a bit much. Not to mention a house costs a whole lot more to maintain then a condo does. So no more weekly nail appointments for me.

My nails have a natural French Manicure appearance so other then cutting and filing them occasionally, I have just let them be. I started keeping my nails short because long nails, tiny babies, and car seats don’t mix. I haven’t missed getting my fingers done as much as my toes. I hate not having pretty toes. It has preyed on my mind more then I care to admit. All my sandals, open toe shoes, and flip flops have been lying neglected in the back of my closet.

So yesterday while sitting outside as the kids played I painted my nails. I started with my toes of course, but my fingers quickly followed. Since I haven’t had my nails painted in eons, most of my nail polish is garbage. In desperation I grabbed one of the cheap bottles I got years ago. It came as part of one of those 24 piece gift set. My mom got it for me because she liked the case. I let the kids play make over with the make up, but put the nail polish in a drawer and forgot about it. Until yesterday that is.

Because it is cheap polish and I haven’t painted my nails in too many years, my nails are not pretty. I’m sure Angel Cakes could do a better job then I did. But they are painted and that is all that matters right? At least to my kids anyway. They noticed right away and wanted their nails painted also. Yes, both of them. Buckaroo wants his nails painted just like mine.

It was bath time so I was saved from the argument of why I wasn’t going to paint their nails. I hope to be able to play a politician (distract, delay, and defer) long enough that I don’t have to have either talk. That boys don’t normally wear nail polish. His only real example is Daddy who does wear nail polish and makeup when he has shows. Not to mention, I couldn’t really argue why he shouldn’t. I want to raise my kids to do what they feel comfortable with no matter what anyone else thinks. If Buckaroo wants to play dress up, make overs, and wear nail polish why shouldn’t he? Granted I don’t think the color I put on my nails would look right on him, but that is not the point. If I do decide to have a nail painting party he will get his nails painted if he wants. It will be with the black or clear that Daddy wears, but I will paint his nails. I am not sure I want to go down that road with Angel Cakes yet though. She is only five. They have had their nails painted in the past, but I plan to either have my nails done or paint them myself on a regular basis going forward. I like having pretty nails and toes, but do I want to do the maintenance on one or both of them also?

Damn! How did that happen? What started and was intended to be a funny post turned all serious. Grrrrr. So in an attempt to regain the humor that was supposed to be in this post I am going to make fun of my Hubby.

While telling Partner In Crime about my dilemma at lunch we inevitably got on the subject of Hubby’s appearance for shows. I explained how Hubby wears make up, paints his nails, dyes his hair, and accessories his outfits. I told her about the other day as he was getting ready that he asked if we had seen his hair straightening iron, make up case, his sparkley silver glitter and studded belt and bracelets. As she laughed, I told her that I just see it as practice for when Angel Cakes becomes a teen. That is exactly what it felt like. I told her that if her asks to use my lip gloss that I was filing for divorce. I can only deal with one Diva in the house and his daughter already had dibs on that title. I was willing to conceded the title to her, but I never thought I would have to fight Hubby for it.

Smooches,
The Girl With The Pretty Toes

Whoohoo! I Changed!

Yesterday I put on my cranky pants. I woke up late, left the house late, and drove through pea soup fog to get my coffee. In an attempt to lift my mood I also bought a bouquet of flowers. Flowers always make me happy so I thought that maybe instead of cranky pants, I might be just wearing moody pants instead. Nope. I put on my cranky pants. As I was pulling out of the gas station all three cups of coffee spilled. The two fell out of their little cardboard carrier when the divider broke and were upside down spilling their contents all over my floor, my purse, and laptop bag. In surprise and an effort to save my valuables but more importantly the coffee, I managed to spill the cup I was holding all over my shirt.

I righted the coffee and drove to the store to buy a new shirt. I had meetings so I couldn’t arrive in a coffee stained shirt. I found a new shirt and wrap and because it was Target, bought some sliced pound cake for the department. We have established that I am not above bribing my department with sugar to get their butts in gear right? We had three abysmal days so I needed to do something to jump start them and this approach has been effective in the past. I was too cranky to play cheerleader so sugar it was.

The fog gave way to sunshine right as we were entering the construction. Now we couldn’t see because of the glare. Wonderful! I could feel my cranky pants getting tighter every time someone stepped on their brakes for no apparent reason. I got to work a mere 30 minutes late. Now to fight the revolving door and swipe my key card for the elevator while juggling my laptop bag, purse, cake, flowers, and two cups of coffee which despite being 2/3 full where trying to spill on my new shirt.

I made it to my desk where I was greeted with one of my associates asking if the flowers were for us this time instead of the center of the department. My cranky pants were soaked with sweat and coffee so they were now glued on. I dropped the flowers on her desk with a ‘Here ya go! Do what you want with them.’
I followed up with a warning that I was very cranky. I put the cake out and despite my warning was greeted with sighs and mutters because I didn’t get this person or that persons favorite kind. I barely bit back my retort about what ungrateful wretches they were.

As I scrolled through my email, I had three people cluster around my desk. Everything was way too important to possibly wait the five minutes it would take me to get to their email and respond to them. I was getting crankier by the second. The remainder of the day proceeded in the same fashion.

Today though I put on my happy pants. I got to work smiling, laughing, and joking. Despite having to go into work on a Friday, I was happy. I got some things off the printer and when I sat down in my chair, I spun around and around. I felt like a kid playing office. I sailed through what should have been a one hour meeting, but turned into a two hour meeting. Yep the cranky pants were off and happy pants were on.

My kids joked about the change. I told them see, there are such things as cranky pants. It started when Angel Cakes was a baby. When she was cranky and throwing her millionth tantrum, I would tell her that we need to change her pants, she was obviously wearing cranky pants. Most of the time it would make them giggle, sometimes they would just look at me like I was crazy, but it was always enough to break them out of whatever tantrum they were throwing. That was the whole point so the Cranky Pants were born and became a treasured friend. Until I am the one wearing them that is.

So what about you? Was there something you did to help your kids when they were cranky? What do you call the days when you are cranky for no apparent reason?

School Shopping – Updated With All The Pics

We did it for the first time this weekend. The first real trip of countless shopping trips to come. We shopped for preschool before, but nothing can compare to the first trip for ‘big kid’ school. Preschool is easy. They need crayons, markers, glue sticks, and a backpack. Kindergarten they need a lot more. And they have to be certain brands and sizes.

The expotition as Angel Cakes keeps calling it started at one store where I knew they had shoes and I had seen some really cute backpacks at. We found shoes that she will leave at school and two very cute outfits, but not a backpack. They didn’t have the little backpacks anymore, and Angel Cakes did not want one that came down past her butt! The second store was where Buckaroo successfully stole a candy bar. I was alerted to the fact that Buckaroo had the candy bar when we were about to get in the car and Angel Cakes was outraged that he got one and she didn’t. Yes, we marched back into the store while I lectured him on taking stuff that Mommy hasn’t paid for. I know he didn’t intend to steal it, I just wanted him to understand that he always needs ask, and give whatever it is to the teller so I can pay for it. Other then the stolen and then paid for candy bar, it yielded another outfit, but no backpacks. They either had wheels or she didn’t like the characters.

Quick stop for food to sustain us before venturing to yet another store. The third store is where Angel Cakes spent most of my money. Thankfully I had picked up miscellaneous items from her school list at the other stores because there would have been a fourth store otherwise. This store didn’t have all the proper brands or sizes. And let me just say, finding the exact brand and size of products she needed while wrangling two tired and bored kids was enough to try the patience of a saint which I am so not. By the time I got the final bag in the car and we were ready to seek the peace of our house, nearly five hours had past and my sanity was hanging by a thin and fraying thread.

Between what I ordered from work and the three stores, we did manage to get everything on their lists, and to Angel Cakes relief the all important backpacks, and as a bonus rain coats. This weekend we will pick out another pair of shoes, get her hair cut, and I’m sure a couple more outfits. She doesn’t need a lot of clothes because she already has a closet full and she will get more for her birthday and Christmas, but we saw soo many outfits that we loved that I’m not sure I can resist all of them a second time.

What? You want to see what caused all the whining, crying, and stress? Good. I was going to show you even if you didn’t. I’m a proud Mama what can I say.

This outfit was picked out at the first store. She came running over all excited, begging me to buy it.

Sweet As A Cupcake

She told me that since she is my Angel Cakes she ‘just has to have the cupcake dress.’ With that type of reasoning how could I refuse? I did seriously consider buying one to ship down to Barista. She may not have kids yet, but how perfect would it be for when she does?

Also picked out at the first store.

Starting Her Young

 

She may not totally understand the significance, but liked the sparkle on the shirt and loved the belt that came with the jeans. I can’t help but giggle a little every time I see this outfit, so into the cart it went.

Angel Cakes picked this one out on the sole basis that it came with a matching outfit for her baby dolls.

Looking Pretty With My Babies

And Bonus Pictures…. The Rain Coats.

Yeah Whatever. Just Take The Picture Mommy!

 

If You Won't Get Me The Matching Boots, You Can't Take My Picture.

 

What do you mean it isn't raining? I'm wearing my coat for nothing?!

The elusive backpacks.

Look Teacher, No Wheels!

Yes, there are wings and a hood on Buckaroo’s. Wanna take bets on how quickly they get lost? Nevermind. By the time I got home the to take the picture the wings and hood were MIA.

And finally all the stuff from the school lists, the correct sizes and brands. And more importantly I’ve been told, properly labeled with her name.

Preschool pile

Kindergarten Supplies

Inside the plastic box with lid - shoe box size or larger

I’m so glad I had already planned to escort her to school the first day. I had to revise my plan for us to walk though. I don’t know how we could juggle it the four blocks to school from Daycare.

And so ends today’s show and tell. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Smooches,
JaimeLynne

Hi EVeryone

It seems like I am writing posts a couple times a month now. This time it really wasn’t my fault. I have missed you guys!

Wednesday morning my BlackBerry decided to misbehave. Actually it was the trackball that just decided it was done. It would scroll right or left, but not up and down. It would either go up or down, but not both directions. After performing surgery to ensure it was clean of any and all debris it still wouldn’t play nice.

I did what any person would do and googled it. It is a known problem and you have to actually replace the trackball to correct it. I have six months left on my contract and four months before early renewal. Ok fine! I have to buy the part; I can’t have a phone that only acts as a phone for that darn long! I called the store close to work and my house to see if they had it since it is such a know and prevalent problem. Nope! They don’t stock the part and would have to order it and I could pick it up on the following Wednesday. Really!?

So onto my favorite site for everything BlackBerry related. They had the part for a lowly $10 plus shipping. Bad news is that unless I was willing to spend $25 plus I wouldn’t get the part before today. I could take the trackball out and flip it around to make it scroll in the direction that wasn’t working so I opted to wait until today.

Next time, I just might pay the $80 dollars (no, not kidding) to have it next day. Or at least the $25 to have it sent three day to arrive on Friday instead of the $6 and suffering for five days. It really was hard. There was so much I wanted to say to you but I just couldn’t deal with the frustration of taking my phone apart every time I needed to scroll in a different direction which I constantly do.

I got the part though and my phone is once again permantly attached to my hand. So my loves, I am back and will try very hard to catch up on all my reading and updates on the last week.

Special message to Nancy: Thank you so much for your comment and suggestion! Wouldn’t you know he showed up the next day with a formal printed invitation. We had plans this past Sunday so if he doesn’t have plans this upcoming Sunday we will take him up on the very nice offer.

Hope you all have a wonderful night!

Smooches,
JaimeLynne