Spring Break Madness

If you’ve noticed how quiet I’ve been this week, I have two words for you: spring break. I used to think that working night shift and sleeping during the day while the kids were home was difficult, but it turns out trying to work from home during the day while they’re home is even harder. Like, near impossible.

Monday was filled with “I’m bored” as I silently cursed that school has to give them a full week off at a time. As I tried to get work done, I reached new lows in bribing the kids to entertain themselves. They were given full control of the TV, they were allowed extra computer time, and I nearly gave in to every food demand just to buy some peace and quiet.

Yesterday I cried uncle, put in a few intense hours of work that morning, and then ordered the girls into the car to meet up with friends in Dayton. Our friends were on spring break, too, so we met halfway and went to the Boonshoft Museum of Discovery. Cordy and Mira have been once before, but this was my first time. It’s a very cool children’s museum that focuses on science and nature, with a lot of fun thrown in, too.

My one complaint with the museum is that it is two floors with a very open floor plan, meaning kids can easily run from one area to another, but with plenty of walls and nooks to lose sight of your children in an instant. If you’re a parent who has to always have your child in view, I’d highly recommend taking any anxiety meds before you go.

There’s also a playground area with a climbing net that goes from first to second floors, and a giant twisty slide that goes back down to the first floor.

 The net – I saw some brave parents trying to climb this thing, too.

The stairs are nearby, which means when you see your child climb to the second floor, then lose sight of them, you climb the stairs to find them only to get to the top, look everywhere, and then peer over the rail to see them back downstairs. By the time you get down the stairs – they’re up again. No amount of waiting for them to return to one level will make it happen, but a trip up or down the stairs will magically change their position to the other floor. It’s exercise for the adults.

It only took five minutes after arrival for me to lose one of my kids. We met with friends, Mira had to use the bathroom, so I left Cordy with our friends at the exhibit right inside the door, telling her to stay with them and I’d be right back. When I came back, I quickly found my friend and her kids, but couldn’t find Cordy. The exhibit only had one way in or out, and she was nowhere to be found.

There was a Staff Only door at the other end of the exhibit and for a moment I worried Cordy had decided to ignore the sign. But just then a voice came over the intercom, “Would Christina please come meet Cordy at the Admissions desk?” I looked at everyone in the exhibit, sighed, “That would be for me.” and went out to the desk. Not 20 feet away from where I was, on the other side of a wall, was Cordy, smiling and waving at me.

“I thought you were gone forever so I asked for help!” she said. I thanked the museum staff and gathered my child, completely embarrassed.

The remainder of the day was less exciting. My two kids made sure to never play together to keep me on my toes, constantly checking to make sure no one had wandered somewhere they shouldn’t. Cordy mostly played by herself, while Mira made friends with every other kid and developed elaborate games with them.

Heeey, itza me, Cordy the plumber!
Mira as judge. The scariest photo you may ever witness.

At the end of the day we had one final moment of drama. I was in the little-kids area chatting with my friends, and thanks to a wall hiding me from the main view, Cordy couldn’t find me again. It was nearly time to go home, so I went looking for her and found her near tears in the playground area. She hugged me and cried, “I couldn’t find you anywhere! I thought you’d left me!I was trying to find my way back to the front to ask for help again.” Apparently she’s really convinced I’m trying to get rid of her.

Note to self: keep an eye on this kid everywhere you go, or you will always be that parent being announced over the intercom.

(Mira, of course, hadn’t seen me in over half an hour and had no concerns whatsoever. I could have left her there until the end of the day and come back to find her still playing and complaining that I was interrupting time with her new friends.)

Overall it was a lot of fun, and succeeded in tiring them out enough for me to get some work done when we got back home. Although I was pretty tired, too.

Unfortunately, I can’t do that every day this week, so today we’re back to creative endeavors at home. Maybe I’ll teach them to clean the house today?



Short Hair

Cordy is a child that prefers everything exactly the way it has always been. She has a routine she likes to follow, and any deviation generally results in drama. Her meals are from a short list of acceptable foods and have to be served in the right order; for example, macaroni and cheese is appropriate for lunch if we’re out at a restaurant, but at home it can only be a dinner, and a sandwich is the obvious lunch choice.

So when it comes to Cordy’s hair, she’s resistant to change. She’s always had long hair, mostly due to fear of cutting it. In the past, I’ve had to sneak in at-home trimming sessions when she was distracted just to keep that thick head of hair under some pretense of control. It knots up with just a gentle breeze passing by, and attempts to comb her hair are met with screams and tears.

I’ve tried to find out why she doesn’t want her hair cut when it clearly bothers her so much to care for it when it’s long. She’s told me everything from it keeps her warm to she’s afraid people will think she’s a boy if it’s short.

In the fall we had luck with getting Cordy’s first professional haircut, although she refused to let us cut off much of it. The appointment was still full of some drama, with Cordy occasionally crying and begging the stylist to stop, but we survived.

The problem with hair is that it keeps growing. And so this weekend, as I ripped through masses of knots in her hair, I decided it was time for another haircut.

But this time was different. “I want a haircut,” Cordy told me. What? Who is this kid?

“And I want it short, mommy.”

Wait…did I hear that right? The girl who has insisted she’ll never have short hair now wants it short?

Cordy held her hand up to the top of her ear. “I want to cut it up to here!” she proclaimed. I then explained just how short that was and asked if we could not go quite that extreme and maybe aim for a cute bob instead? She agreed, but I wasn’t sure she’d go through with it.

Saturday afternoon we took both girls to the salon for their haircuts. Mira, who had no issues last time, happily sat for her trim to get her curly bob bouncy again.

My change-phobic Cordy completely surprised me. She was upbeat, she held still for the stylist, she didn’t cry or scream when she was combing through her thick hair, and she got it all cut off.

You could make another kid from all that hair.

When she was done, I barely recognized my own child.

Excuse me, kid, have you seen a mop-headed little gir…oh. Wait…

As for Cordy? She loves her new haircut! She immediately grinned and said she can’t wait to “trick all the boys” because they won’t know it’s her. (I’d like to think it’s because they like her, but she then said they won’t tease her if they don’t know it’s her. Hmmm…must follow up on that, pronto.)

Now that she’s got the short hair, I’m kinda missing her wild mane. Sure, we fought constantly over it, but it was gorgeous despite the knots. Her new cut is really cute, though. Washing and combing it will be very easy to get used to.

I now understand why my mom insisted I have short hair all through elementary school. Eeeeaaassy.

 I was kind enough to avoid bangs for Cordy, however. 
(Yes, that’s me. Age 8.)


The Definition of Four

“OK, sweetie, give me a pretty smile and show me what four years old looks like!”

Yep, that sums it up pretty well. 


Mother’s Day Presents

Scene: In the car the other day.

Cordy: Mama, it will be Mother’s Day soon. What kind of present do you want?

Me: I don’t know. What do you think I’d like?

Mira: Mommy, you like flowers!

Me: Well, yeah, flowers are OK I guess.

Cordy: No, Mira! Mommy likes chocolates more! You want chocolates for Mother’s Day, right?

Me: Ummm…I am trying to diet…

Mira: Flowers! Mommy wants flowers!

Cordy: Chocolates!

Mira: Flooooowers!

Cordy: Chooooocolates!

Me: What about sleep? I’d like that for Mother’s Day.

Mira: Mommy, that’s not a present!

Me: Oh, you’d be surprised what mommies would consider presents…

Later…

Cordy: Mama, I know what your present will be! Us! We’re your presents, mommy!

Me: Well, yes, but actually, you’re the reason I get presents on Mother’s Day.

Cordy: (panic in her voice) But we can’t get you anything because the Toys R Us doesn’t have anything you like!

Me: Um…well, I guess that’s true…

Cordy: So if you don’t like anything from the Toys R Us, we won’t have anything to give you! Can’t you like a toy that we like, and then we can get you that?

Me: I think you’re missing the point now…

After that conversation, I’m a little scared to think what will be waiting for me on Mother’s Day. It’ll either be nothing, flowers, chocolates, or a new Thomas & Friends train set with some easy reader Backyardigans books.

Note to self: teach my children what “spa” means and why mommies like it.

And I still argue that sleep can be a present.



Please Forgive The Bragging

I know it’s generally considered bad form to brag. And bragging about how your kid is a genius is probably near the top of the bragging no-no list, right up there with “I can lift way more weight than anyone in my gym” and “I had my baby in 45 minutes with no epidural and it didn’t hurt at all.”

So if you don’t want to read about how smart my kid is, I understand. But you’ll miss out on some Cordy art and a great story from her at the end of the post.

We received a call from Cordy’s teacher today. When she started the call with, “I wanted to see how things are going with Cordelia at home,” I immediately braced myself for the bad news of how she was misbehaving at school or some other unwelcome announcement. Calls home from school never end well.

Instead, she went on to tell me that they have completed all of the screening assessments on Cordy to know just where to begin with her, and she wanted us to know the full results.

According to the standardized test, Cordy reads at a second grade level. Second grade! Not only can she read at that level, but her comprehension of what she reads is equally impressive. I confessed that I had no idea she could read that well, but I credited a lot of it to the Columbus Metropolitan Library’s Summer Reading Club this summer, where she really took to the idea of reading every day.

Before that, she often treated reading like it was a forbidden activity, doing it quietly in a corner or in her room. When you asked her to read something to you, she protested and acted like she couldn’t read at all. She still refuses to read out loud, but her teacher has reached a compromise where Cordy reads at a whisper so she can still be evaluated.

Beyond reading and comprehension, she also knows most of her numbers and can handle basic addition and subtraction. Money is the one area she still fumbles with, but that will come with time. Still – addition AND subtraction!

(Have I mentioned that we’ve never really taught her much of this? She hates being taught and prefers to pick it up on her own.)

The teacher told us they were all so impressed with her abilities, remarking that she and the aides often forget that Cordy is only five years old and in kindergarten. She expects that if Cordy’s social skills can improve, she’ll be in a mainstream classroom full time next year, and also said it’s probable that Cordy will be given the educational label “twice exceptional” – special needs and gifted – which will also give her access to the gifted ed programs.

I wasn’t expecting so much praise over the phone. It’s obvious Cordy has charmed her new teacher and staff just like she charms everyone she meets. The kid has a talent for making everyone love her.

So yeah, I’m a wee bit proud of her today. My warrior princess continues to amaze me every day. So often I feel like I’m never doing enough for her, and there are many times when I feel like I just don’t know what to do with her. But she’s seemingly oblivious to my worries and shortcomings, learning and growing and doing it all her own unique way.

Speaking of her unique way, I promised some art and a story, didn’t I? To go along with today’s phone call, Cordy’s teacher sent home a few of the assignments Cordy has been working on in the past week. I had no idea she was writing full sentences now.

The cats are real pets. The bunny is Sammy, aka the GIANT stuffed Miffy doll that has been her best friend for over two years now.

(Translation: The boy is going down the slide. He is happy.)

And finally, the story. Cordy spends nearly every evening in the kitchen by herself (and she INSISTS on being ALONE!) “making up stories.” We hear her mumbling to herself as she paces and hops and flaps back and forth along the kitchen floor. When she goes to bed at night, too, she often stays up for hours making up more stories.

The few times I’ve convinced her to tell me one of her stories, I’ve been treated to an amazingly wild stream-of-consciousness story that usually involves characters from several different TV shows all together in one psychedelic Nick Jr. mash-up.

I begged her to let me record one of her stories today, and she grudgingly approved. It isn’t nearly as long or as detailed because she was nervous about the camera being on her (and I was trying to make it as inconspicuous as possible, hence the brilliant shaky-cam cinematography), but it’s a small glimpse of what goes on in that brilliant little mind of hers.

Our next blogger, perhaps?

Wonderpets Save the Train (from the Vampire) from Christina M on Vimeo.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...