My seven year old is working on his PhD in brown-nosing. I've never met a bigger butt kisser in my entire life. Do you remember Eddie Haskell, from Leave it to Beaver? No? Me either. It was WAY before my time. But trust me when I tell you that Seven makes Eddie look like an amateur.
No matter what I look like he tells me I'm beautiful. Any time I'm cleaning he offers to do it for me, even though he can't reach, lift, or carry whatever I'm doing because he's too small. But the thing is, he sincerely wants to help. Mostly. The other night I needed to run to the pharmacy before they closed but I didn't want to go back out in the cold. Seven said, "Mommy, I will go to the store and get it for you." Nevermind that he's, you know, SEVEN and therefore can't drive my car. He just wanted to get the brownie points for offering.
His teachers all think he's the greatest thing since sliced bread. Today was report card day and his teacher wrote the following comment, "[Seven] is such a neat kid. I'm honored to be his teacher." By the way, he got all Es (a first grade A--it stands for excellent) which is totally appropriate since he's a most excellent child. (And just so you know, Big Brother got all As and Bs. Again.)
Seven is so very sweet and precious and wonderful and darling but sometimes I just want to tell him to pull his cute little nose out of my butt and be a normal kid. Like, complain when I ask him to clean his room or something. But I don't say a word because I know it won't last. Someday he WILL be big enough to actually do the things he's offering to do.
And that's when the offers will stop.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Master of Sarcasm
You know how sometimes your kids say something and it's like you can see the words actually leave your own mouth, float across the room, and come out through your child's lips instead? Ten does this all the time. His teacher says of all the kids in her class he's the one that she can always tell when he's directly quoting his parents. And when she says "parents," she really means me. That's not always a good thing, as Ten has inherited his mother's gift of Sarcasm.
Hilarious, but not always appropriate.
His teachers have always said that he has a very mature sense of humor. His second grade teacher used to say that he was her best audience. He just seems to get their jokes. A comment would fly over the heads of the other kids while Ten would crack up.
Yesterday we walked into the playroom as Seven was trying to get something off the shelf in the top of the closet. Ten looked at him, then me, then leaned back to watch his brother struggle. He crossed his arms over his chest and said, "Yeah, this isn't going to end well."
The kid cracks me up.
And speaking of cracking me up...we rented the DVD Underdog over the weekend. My new favorite movie line was spoken by Polly Purebred while fantasizing about a date with Underdog...
"Could you imagine me off leash with Underdog?
There's not a hose cold enough to break that up."
Luckily, Ten did NOT get that one.
Hilarious, but not always appropriate.
His teachers have always said that he has a very mature sense of humor. His second grade teacher used to say that he was her best audience. He just seems to get their jokes. A comment would fly over the heads of the other kids while Ten would crack up.
Yesterday we walked into the playroom as Seven was trying to get something off the shelf in the top of the closet. Ten looked at him, then me, then leaned back to watch his brother struggle. He crossed his arms over his chest and said, "Yeah, this isn't going to end well."
The kid cracks me up.
And speaking of cracking me up...we rented the DVD Underdog over the weekend. My new favorite movie line was spoken by Polly Purebred while fantasizing about a date with Underdog...
"Could you imagine me off leash with Underdog?
There's not a hose cold enough to break that up."
Luckily, Ten did NOT get that one.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Tough Decisions
Back in the fall Ten was diagnosed with ADHD. We've been several years in coming to this, but we had him tested because, quite frankly, I was at my breaking point. His teachers' opinions over the years have ranged from "You need to have him tested for ADHD immediately," to "No way, he's just super smart and as long as I keep him challenged he does fine." His mom's opinion fell somewhere between "Holy crap this kid is smarter than I am," and "Oh my God if this child doesn't stop talking and stop wiggling and stop squirming I'm going to lose my frickin' mind!"
We had him tested for Celiac disease (gluten intolerance) a couple of years ago because there's a family history. It often goes undiagnosed and can cause hyperactivity in children. The blood test came back negative. We moved on with our lives.
He managed to skate along at a magnet school, making almost all As with the occasional B with very little effort until last year. In third grade came the homework. Hours and hours of it. Every single blessed night. With arguing. And weeping. And gnashing of teeth. It was Mommy Hell. I started to wonder if the magnet school's accelerated curriculum was too much for him. That worry was shot out of the water by his standardized testing scores: advanced in every single category, scores in the 99th percentile in nearly everything. He continued to struggle with homework, but he got by, made either Principal's List or Honor Roll, and still liked school. Most of the time.
Then came fourth grade. All summer leading up to the start of school I dreaded it. I used to teach fourth grade, so I am very familiar with the beast that is a fourth grade boy. Ten (still Nine then) was not. that. beast. I also have a lot of experience with ADHD kids and I knew that he was exhibiting many of the behaviors that those kids did.
He acted like a much younger child. In fact, his younger brother had to remind him to do things constantly, things other kids his age don't need to be reminded about: brush your teeth, clear the table, put away your shoes, coat, backpack, lunchbox, etc. He had trouble with peer relations because he acted goofy, was quick to anger, argued about every little thing. I was not looking forward to the start of school because I knew this would be the year I'd finally have to do something about my child.
This is a kid who, within the first six weeks of fourth grade, went from liking school (not loving it, but liking it) to a child who hates school. Not dislikes it, hates it. Intensely. Crying before school many mornings, crying during homework, calling himself stupid. Saying he hates himself. His self esteem is in the toilet. I have a dry erase board in the kitchen, where I write the date and what's going on that day. Look what he wrote there this week :
This just breaks my heart.
So back in September we had him tested and the psychologist says Ten has ADHD. There are subsets to ADHD. The first is the inattentive child--the daydreamer. The second is the hyperactive, can NOT be still, child. A child in the third subset has both issues. Ten falls into the second group. The psychologist says that he's not inattentive, but he's extra-attentive. He lacks an incoming information filter in his brain that tells him WHAT to pay attention to and what to tune out as unimportant. He's focused on all of it: the hum of the fluorescent lights, the custodian sweeping the hall, the kid sitting next to him whose foot is tapping, the kindergarteners down the hall, everything. He also lacks an outgoing filter that serves to self-censor, so every single one of his thoughts is expressed verbally. Think it, say it. He's also hyperactive so he truly cannot control the constant motion, talking, busy-ness that drive the people around him insane.
After a whole lot of arguments, tears, prayers, yelling matches, name-calling, research, multiple doctor visits, and more shouting, Dan and I decided to give medicine a try. Well, I decided and dragged Dan along with me, kicking and screaming the whole way. He's such a good dad. We started out with Strattera because it's non-stimulant, non-habit-forming, and both docs recommended it as a good starting point. The psychologist warned us, however, that this particular drug seemed to be more successful at treating the inattentive kid than the hyperactive, impulsive kid. He was right. After two months we saw no change in Ten whatsoever so we stopped giving it to him.
Now we've come to a place where we never wanted to be--giving our kid a controlled substance.
After we told our family doctor that Strattera wasn't working, he advised us to try Daytrana. It's a patch that has the same basic medicine that's found in Ritalin. I'm so divided on this. On the one hand, I hope it works right away and we see a huge, dramatic change in Ten's study habits. On the other hand, I absolutely loathe the very idea of putting a drug into my kid's system unless it's for some life-threatening reason. Although, sometimes I feel I might just threaten his life if I can't get him to calm down. That was a joke. Mostly.
What if the drug works and he has to be on it for years and years? When will he be able to stop taking it? Will he outgrow the hyperactivity when he hits puberty like a lot of kids do? Will he have side effects like insomnia? Or tics? Will it make him lose weight? This kid is so skinny--he doesn't have any to lose. He's already a picky eater--will this suppress his appetite to the point where he won't eat anything? He has sensitive skin and eczema--will this patch hurt his poor little skin?
How am I going to manage a doctor's appointment every single month (because there are no refills on controlled substances)? It's going to cost an extra $65 per month--$45 meds and $20 copay for the office visit. How can I afford to pay for this every month? How can I afford not to if it actually helps him?
We started the medicine today so Dan could be here with me to observe any side effects. I'm just a nervous wreck about the whole thing. So far we haven't seen any changes, but it did leave a little red square on Ten's skin.
Pray for him and for us to make the right decisions. This parenting thing isn't for wimps.
We had him tested for Celiac disease (gluten intolerance) a couple of years ago because there's a family history. It often goes undiagnosed and can cause hyperactivity in children. The blood test came back negative. We moved on with our lives.
He managed to skate along at a magnet school, making almost all As with the occasional B with very little effort until last year. In third grade came the homework. Hours and hours of it. Every single blessed night. With arguing. And weeping. And gnashing of teeth. It was Mommy Hell. I started to wonder if the magnet school's accelerated curriculum was too much for him. That worry was shot out of the water by his standardized testing scores: advanced in every single category, scores in the 99th percentile in nearly everything. He continued to struggle with homework, but he got by, made either Principal's List or Honor Roll, and still liked school. Most of the time.
Then came fourth grade. All summer leading up to the start of school I dreaded it. I used to teach fourth grade, so I am very familiar with the beast that is a fourth grade boy. Ten (still Nine then) was not. that. beast. I also have a lot of experience with ADHD kids and I knew that he was exhibiting many of the behaviors that those kids did.
He acted like a much younger child. In fact, his younger brother had to remind him to do things constantly, things other kids his age don't need to be reminded about: brush your teeth, clear the table, put away your shoes, coat, backpack, lunchbox, etc. He had trouble with peer relations because he acted goofy, was quick to anger, argued about every little thing. I was not looking forward to the start of school because I knew this would be the year I'd finally have to do something about my child.
This is a kid who, within the first six weeks of fourth grade, went from liking school (not loving it, but liking it) to a child who hates school. Not dislikes it, hates it. Intensely. Crying before school many mornings, crying during homework, calling himself stupid. Saying he hates himself. His self esteem is in the toilet. I have a dry erase board in the kitchen, where I write the date and what's going on that day. Look what he wrote there this week :
This just breaks my heart.
So back in September we had him tested and the psychologist says Ten has ADHD. There are subsets to ADHD. The first is the inattentive child--the daydreamer. The second is the hyperactive, can NOT be still, child. A child in the third subset has both issues. Ten falls into the second group. The psychologist says that he's not inattentive, but he's extra-attentive. He lacks an incoming information filter in his brain that tells him WHAT to pay attention to and what to tune out as unimportant. He's focused on all of it: the hum of the fluorescent lights, the custodian sweeping the hall, the kid sitting next to him whose foot is tapping, the kindergarteners down the hall, everything. He also lacks an outgoing filter that serves to self-censor, so every single one of his thoughts is expressed verbally. Think it, say it. He's also hyperactive so he truly cannot control the constant motion, talking, busy-ness that drive the people around him insane.
After a whole lot of arguments, tears, prayers, yelling matches, name-calling, research, multiple doctor visits, and more shouting, Dan and I decided to give medicine a try. Well, I decided and dragged Dan along with me, kicking and screaming the whole way. He's such a good dad. We started out with Strattera because it's non-stimulant, non-habit-forming, and both docs recommended it as a good starting point. The psychologist warned us, however, that this particular drug seemed to be more successful at treating the inattentive kid than the hyperactive, impulsive kid. He was right. After two months we saw no change in Ten whatsoever so we stopped giving it to him.
Now we've come to a place where we never wanted to be--giving our kid a controlled substance.
After we told our family doctor that Strattera wasn't working, he advised us to try Daytrana. It's a patch that has the same basic medicine that's found in Ritalin. I'm so divided on this. On the one hand, I hope it works right away and we see a huge, dramatic change in Ten's study habits. On the other hand, I absolutely loathe the very idea of putting a drug into my kid's system unless it's for some life-threatening reason. Although, sometimes I feel I might just threaten his life if I can't get him to calm down. That was a joke. Mostly.
What if the drug works and he has to be on it for years and years? When will he be able to stop taking it? Will he outgrow the hyperactivity when he hits puberty like a lot of kids do? Will he have side effects like insomnia? Or tics? Will it make him lose weight? This kid is so skinny--he doesn't have any to lose. He's already a picky eater--will this suppress his appetite to the point where he won't eat anything? He has sensitive skin and eczema--will this patch hurt his poor little skin?
How am I going to manage a doctor's appointment every single month (because there are no refills on controlled substances)? It's going to cost an extra $65 per month--$45 meds and $20 copay for the office visit. How can I afford to pay for this every month? How can I afford not to if it actually helps him?
We started the medicine today so Dan could be here with me to observe any side effects. I'm just a nervous wreck about the whole thing. So far we haven't seen any changes, but it did leave a little red square on Ten's skin.
Pray for him and for us to make the right decisions. This parenting thing isn't for wimps.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Back to School Blues
I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm not ready for my kids to go back to school. Really.
Sure, there are a few things I'll enjoy during the two days that the kids go back to school before I have to report back to my own school. Like getting my haircut without dragging the little darlings along. Cruising the aisles at Publix without fruit snack boxes launching themselves through the air to land, mysteriously, in my cart. Cleaning a room and returning in five minutes to find it, amazingly, still clean. If I, you know, actually cleaned.
But the bottom line is, I'm not ready to start waking up at OMG-o'clock yet. I don't want to deal with the hassle of homework, packing lunches, remembering schedules, other kids' cooties, pants that are inexplicably two inches too short when they fit the child TWO WEEKS AGO, and all the joy that comes with kids in school.
And besides all that, when they go back I will miss out on conversations like this one:
Ten: What do you want to do?
Seven: I don't know. What do you want to do?
Ten: Wanna build a Lego ship?
Seven: No
Ten: Wanna watch a movie?
Seven: No. I know! Let's ram into each other until we fall down.
Ten: Okay, let's do it.
On second thought....
Sure, there are a few things I'll enjoy during the two days that the kids go back to school before I have to report back to my own school. Like getting my haircut without dragging the little darlings along. Cruising the aisles at Publix without fruit snack boxes launching themselves through the air to land, mysteriously, in my cart. Cleaning a room and returning in five minutes to find it, amazingly, still clean. If I, you know, actually cleaned.
But the bottom line is, I'm not ready to start waking up at OMG-o'clock yet. I don't want to deal with the hassle of homework, packing lunches, remembering schedules, other kids' cooties, pants that are inexplicably two inches too short when they fit the child TWO WEEKS AGO, and all the joy that comes with kids in school.
And besides all that, when they go back I will miss out on conversations like this one:
Ten: What do you want to do?
Seven: I don't know. What do you want to do?
Ten: Wanna build a Lego ship?
Seven: No
Ten: Wanna watch a movie?
Seven: No.
Ten: Okay, let's do it.
On second thought....
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
New Home for the Girls
Okay ladies, you've all heard the statistic that something like 70% of the women in this country are wearing the WRONG bra size, right? Well due to my recent weight loss, I'm pretty sure I'm one of them. But I'm about to change that.
Friday morning while the kids are at school I'm going bra shopping. Girls, I need your help. Well, to be completely accurate, the girls need your help.
I usually buy Playtex underwire "half size" bras for about $10 at Wal-Mart. I'm willing to spend more, but not a whole lot more. I can't justify spending $40 at Victoria's Secret on a bra. That'd be a little like putting hundred dollar chrome hubcaps on a beat-up '73 Dodge Dart. Kinda like false advertising.
So, here are my questions:
1) Where can I go to get fitted properly? (dept store in a mall is what I'm thinking) I just went to the Playtex website, followed their fitting directions exactly, submitted my info, and got the following response: "We're sorry. We cannot determine your size." What am I, some kind of freak? Of course, I don't own a fabric tape measure so I was using my husband's mini pocket-size metal tape measure that he uses at work. That might have something to do with it.
2) What's the best bra for small-chested chicks? I want to enhance my profile but not push those babies up to my nose. I'm used to underwire with a little bit of padding--not so much that the ratio of real, live boob to fiber fill is just depressing, but enough so that everyone in the room can't tell when I'm chilly.
3) I always buy flesh colored bras because I think it's really trashy to see a white bra practically glowing in the dark under a white shirt. But sometimes I want a fun, flirty color with panties to match. There are fun bras and serviceable bras and I'm looking for both. Is that possible?
4)If I find a really great bra in a department store, what's the best place online to buy more of them at a cheaper price? I have to try it on first, but I'd be willing to buy several more if I find a good one that actually fits.
5) What's the best way to wash your bras to make them last longer and retain their shape? So that they can retain MY shape. I often end up looking like my boobs are dented when I wear a fitted T-shirt because the padding dries funny.
Help me, Oh Internets. My girls will thank you. Well, not personally, but you know what I mean.
Friday morning while the kids are at school I'm going bra shopping. Girls, I need your help. Well, to be completely accurate, the girls need your help.
I usually buy Playtex underwire "half size" bras for about $10 at Wal-Mart. I'm willing to spend more, but not a whole lot more. I can't justify spending $40 at Victoria's Secret on a bra. That'd be a little like putting hundred dollar chrome hubcaps on a beat-up '73 Dodge Dart. Kinda like false advertising.
So, here are my questions:
1) Where can I go to get fitted properly? (dept store in a mall is what I'm thinking) I just went to the Playtex website, followed their fitting directions exactly, submitted my info, and got the following response: "We're sorry. We cannot determine your size." What am I, some kind of freak? Of course, I don't own a fabric tape measure so I was using my husband's mini pocket-size metal tape measure that he uses at work. That might have something to do with it.
2) What's the best bra for small-chested chicks? I want to enhance my profile but not push those babies up to my nose. I'm used to underwire with a little bit of padding--not so much that the ratio of real, live boob to fiber fill is just depressing, but enough so that everyone in the room can't tell when I'm chilly.
3) I always buy flesh colored bras because I think it's really trashy to see a white bra practically glowing in the dark under a white shirt. But sometimes I want a fun, flirty color with panties to match. There are fun bras and serviceable bras and I'm looking for both. Is that possible?
4)If I find a really great bra in a department store, what's the best place online to buy more of them at a cheaper price? I have to try it on first, but I'd be willing to buy several more if I find a good one that actually fits.
5) What's the best way to wash your bras to make them last longer and retain their shape? So that they can retain MY shape. I often end up looking like my boobs are dented when I wear a fitted T-shirt because the padding dries funny.
Help me, Oh Internets. My girls will thank you. Well, not personally, but you know what I mean.
Ninja Rock Star
My Seven Year Old is sitting on the floor playing Kelly Clarkson's "Walk Away" on the guitar--well, the bass line, anyway, not the melody. He's not quite a rock star yet, but he's getting there. Like the boy needed another skill to make the girls crazy about him. Last year his kindergarten teacher had to ban two little girls from playing with him at recess because they wouldn't stop fighting over him. Sigh. I'm terrified of his teenage years.
Speaking of "skills," since I only started blogging in November most of you haven't heard this story. Back when he was still called Six, we were driving home from school when he made the following announcement: "I think Ariel is in love with me and wants to marry me and I don't want to hurt her feelings but I can't marry her because I'm going to marry Rachel."
He and Rachel have been betrothed since they met in preschool when they were two years old. Rachel told her mother, "Mama, I saw him across the playground and I just couldn't take my eyes off him." Sherry, his future mother in law, and I are already choosing their china patterns. But I digress...
Ten (who was only Nine then) caught my eye in the rear view mirror, gave me a knowing wink, and smiled as if to say, "These little kids, they are just so darlingly provincial." What he really said was, "Why do you think she wants to marry you?"
And Six said, "Well you know. Because of my personality, my intelligen-cy, and my skills." (Pronounced skeels, 'cause he got street cred.)
Nine: "What skills are those?"
Six: "My Ninja skills. You know, I've been training as a Ninja so I can protect Rachel someday when we're married."
A rock star with ninja skeels. Rachel is gonna have some competition. Lord help me.
Speaking of "skills," since I only started blogging in November most of you haven't heard this story. Back when he was still called Six, we were driving home from school when he made the following announcement: "I think Ariel is in love with me and wants to marry me and I don't want to hurt her feelings but I can't marry her because I'm going to marry Rachel."
He and Rachel have been betrothed since they met in preschool when they were two years old. Rachel told her mother, "Mama, I saw him across the playground and I just couldn't take my eyes off him." Sherry, his future mother in law, and I are already choosing their china patterns. But I digress...
Ten (who was only Nine then) caught my eye in the rear view mirror, gave me a knowing wink, and smiled as if to say, "These little kids, they are just so darlingly provincial." What he really said was, "Why do you think she wants to marry you?"
And Six said, "Well you know. Because of my personality, my intelligen-cy, and my skills." (Pronounced skeels, 'cause he got street cred.)
Nine: "What skills are those?"
Six: "My Ninja skills. You know, I've been training as a Ninja so I can protect Rachel someday when we're married."
A rock star with ninja skeels. Rachel is gonna have some competition. Lord help me.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Smacked by Smack Talk
Hanging my head in shame...
We LOST at Cranium last night. I know, I can't believe it either. After 47 games of Disney Scene-It, Madagascar, Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader, and my own home-made version of Pyramid (which was darn fine, if I do say so myself!), I think we were just wiped out from gameity. Either that or my cheating neighbors, I mean best friends, totally peeked at the cards before we came over. Not that I think they would do that or anything (they totally peeked) but I'm just saying.
So now we have to start out 2008 as The Losers. I knew we should've played Huggermugger.
We LOST at Cranium last night. I know, I can't believe it either. After 47 games of Disney Scene-It, Madagascar, Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader, and my own home-made version of Pyramid (which was darn fine, if I do say so myself!), I think we were just wiped out from gameity. Either that or my cheating neighbors, I mean best friends, totally peeked at the cards before we came over. Not that I think they would do that or anything (they totally peeked) but I'm just saying.
So now we have to start out 2008 as The Losers. I knew we should've played Huggermugger.
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