All posts by Pink Me Not Mom

My Artists & Writers in Training

Matilda

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I just spent the last 1/2 hour reading the first three chapters of Roald Dahl’s Matilda with Chloe. We finished A Wrinkle in Time yesterday, which she loved. But it was a little intense, and I thought we’d do well to enjoy some lighter fare.

By the third chapter, we were laughing so hard we were crying. It was the image of a little boy with a finger superglued inside his nose that did it. And the language, of course. We laughed and laughed and laughed.

It was actually difficult to put the book down, but I didn’t want to set precedent by reading too much at once, or else she’d be pleading with me to read and read and read every night. And I’d go insane. What I’m hoping is that this might actually be the book that pushes her to read on her own.

You’d think she’d get it. If she reads on her own, she can read when she wants. She wouldn’t need to depend on her mommy’s schedule for reading sessions. She’s a great reader, so that’s not an issue. I like to think that it’s simply because she loves my company and how I read to her.

In the meantime, I will admit that I’m actually looking forward to tomorrow’s visit with Matilda. On second thought, maybe she should wait for the next book before she discovers the joys of reading on her own.

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Chloe’s Ladybug Condo

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Chloe has a pet! The best part is that we didn’t have to buy it, we don’t need to buy supplies for it, and it requires absolutely no maintenance.

Yes, it’s a ladybug. Chloe hasn’t yet given her a name, but that’s not to say she doesn’t love her very much.

When I arrived home from work today, Chloe grabbed my hand, eager to show me her “ladybug condo.” Chloe is holding the dwelling in the photo – which she made herself. The ladybug resides somewhere inside of it. Chloe even gave it some lettuce to eat.

You have to love her industriousness. Knowing that we have absolutely no desire to get a family pet, Chloe found her own little friend. We’re going to have to change the lettuce leaf in a couple of days because she doesn’t want the ladybug to get sick from bad greens. The bug has been in its condo now for a few hours, and I hope the lack of light hasn’t killed it yet. The good news is that if it has kicked the bucket, we have plenty more ladybugs in the attic waiting for some love and attention.

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

I Wanted Raviolis!

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An outsider would have thought or fervently hoped that Chloe was rehearsing for a role in a Shakespearean tragedy.

The screaming, the tears, the stomping, the ripping of paper…all of the elements of melodrama. All of the elements of a temper tantrum more appropriate for a 3-year old than a 7-year old.

Now, I hate to belittle my 7-year old’s problems. And my husband and I are really trying very hard to acknowledge the pain that she sometimes suffers in the name of childhood.

But tonight’s pain was a challenge. She gave herself red, puffy tearstained cheeks because, horror of horrors, our babysitter had told her she could have raviolis for dinner, but Papa (mean, horriblePapa) didn’t know that and made chicken instead.

“I wanted raviolis!” Promising her that we’d make raviolis tomorrow instead, and dutifully acknowledging her torment, did no good. She cried and cried, and cried some more. And screamed and screamed, and screamed some more. And stomped and stomped, and stomped some more. And got sent to her room. Twice.

Oh, the agony. Chloe ate the chicken, and sheepishly asked for seconds. Oh, the ecstasy. Long live chicken!

My Artists & Writers in Training

A Wrinkle in Time

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Chloe and I were at the bookstore some time ago, so that I could better describe the joys of reading a good book.

As we perused the aisles, I came across A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle, and I had a flash of nostalgia – I vaguely remembered reading the book as a child, and remembered enjoying it very much.

So we bought it. And we finally started reading it last Friday. This is one I’m reading to her – and we’re up to page 180. And she loves it, mostly. And I’m loving it all over again.

Chloe is very concerned about Charles Wallace, the little brother who is brainwashed by IT during the children’s attempt to save their father. She was afraid that she’d have nightmares last night, but I let her watch some junk TV with me for a few minutes, and that fear quickly dissipated. And this morning, I had to read to her for another 1/2 hour.

Tonight’s reading posed a different problem for my big girl. She’s getting frustrated because she WANTS and NEEDS to know what happens to little Charles in the book. I’ve assured her that’s there’s a happy ending (I don’t want to ruin the ending for her, but I sure as hell don’t want her to freak out on me because the book is a bit beyond her years, and a little scary). But that’s not good enough. When I asked her if she was enjoying the book, she stubbornly said, “No!” So I asked her if she wanted to stop reading the book. “No!”

She sees that we’re getting to the end, but that we’re not quite there. And she’s getting impatient to find out what happens to Meg, Charles and Calvin. I am willing to bet that tomorrow morning she accosts me again – throwing the book in my face – demanding that I read some more. By week’s end, we’ll have finished the book. And she’ll be begging me for the next one in the series, A Wind in the Door.

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Ring Around the Kitchen Island

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This is Sophie in one of those rare, candid action shots. The girls’ new favorite pre-bedtime activity is called, “Chloe, Run!”

It starts when Sophie cordially invites her older to sister to run. Chloe, ever the good big sister, eagerly complies. And the girls start running around the house. And in particular, around the kitchen island.

Sophie is a fast runner. But the greater danger lies in the fact that the top of Sophie’s curly head just about touches the corners of the island. And they’re pointy.

Now, if my husband and I were parents worthy of our beautiful little daughter, we would have already childproofed that island by covering the corners in plastic. We would have also installed a carpet runner on the stairs. And I’m sure I can think of a lot of other things we should have already done to lessen the risks to our darling Sophie.

But boy, are they having fun. Chloe even taught Sophie how to give Papa a wet willy. Chloe is a great teacher.

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Egg Hunt

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Chloe woke me up at 7 AM this morning, pleading to go outside for the Easter egg hunt. I ignored her. And slept for another 90 minutes (I know, you’re all thinking – you slept until 8:30? And you’re a mom?).

I finally dragged myself out of bed, and prepared the eggs for our 3rd annual hunt. The adventure gets increasingly complex with each passing year, because it’s not enough just to plop some eggs around the yard.

I’ve created a treasure hunt for Chloe. Where each egg has a clue that leads to the next clue. And now that she is able to read, I really go to town (ok, I don’t go that crazy, but I do spend some time mapping it out – on the computer, mind you).

Needless to say, Chloe and Sophie were bouncing off the walls by the time we were ready to let the games begin. I hid a bunch of eggs in plain sight for Sophie, who was absolutely enchanted. Chloe got off to a speedy start, and finished it a little too quickly for my taste.

The girls were very pleased with their egg loot, and I’m enjoying the sweet irony that I, an atheist Jew from Flushing, NY, was able to put together a successful Easter egg hunt for the third year in a row.

The problem is that I’ve set the bar pretty high for next year. I should probably start planning it now.

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

A Day to Remember

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Who would have thought? This day goes down in the history books as one of the nicest I’ve spent with Chloe in a long, long time.
It wasn’t a particularly exciting day, but it was clear that Chloe was simply happy to hang out with me. Surprising, I know. Especially to me.

This Saturday started out like any other – Chloe’s swim lessons at the YMCA. I can’t believe she’s actually maintained interest in the swimming for about a year now. It’s rare that she’s not enthusiastic about going. After the lesson, we both had our hair cut at my salon. She was patient and well-behaved the entire time (about 2 hours when all was said and done – I needed to have my gray hair erased), and ended up with a nice ‘do to boot. Her first decent haircut in years. That, of course, put me in a good mood for the rest of the day.

We left my husband and Sophie to fend for themselves for lunch and a nap. Chloe and I went out for a bite, bought Chloe a pair of shoes and some gifts for friends’ upcoming birthday parties. And we topped off the afternoon with an outing to the local paint-your-own-ceramics studio, where Chloe diligently painted a “sculpture” of a mermaid and seahorse. I just watched, because had I “helped,” I would have had to pay $7 paint time as well. And that just struck me as silly.

Chloe didn’t seem to mind – in fact, my inability to assist was probably a good thing, since she didn’t expect me to and she remained calm almost the entire time (except for a minute after she realized she used the wrong color to paint the mermaid’s fish scales).

We arrived home – happy and relaxed. The rest of the afternoon was similarly low-key and stress-free. Very little screaming. A small incident at dinner – Chloe was expecting different pasta from what I actually served and got a little teary-eyed. But we managed to quell the simmering anger quickly and painlessly.

The continued good humor lasted into the evening and boy, am I feeling good. Why can’t it be like this everyday? Or at least two times a week? Will this happy cheer last through tomorrow? In theory, it should. I’ve planned our annual Easter egg hunt, after all. But I’m not holding my breath. Two days in a row is probably too much to ask.

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Writer’s Block

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I’m trying very hard to think of something to write about. But it’s been a long week, lots of plague. I’m still wiped, and my head is empty, and foggy.

I even tried to get Chloe to contribute to tonight’s entry. I enthusiastically suggested that we write a funny poem together. But when I asked her to think of a topic, she started to freak out from the pressure. I magnanimously reassured her that this was supposed to be fun, and we didn’t have to do it. She ran out of the room, crazy with relief.

I, on the other hand, had to refrain from letting out a very loud, disappointed sigh. I mean, really. What are one’s offspring for, if not to provide content for one’s blog? I haven’t trained her well at all. Next time, I’ll have to offer her some money.

So here I am, writing about nothing of consequence. Sophie is feeling a lot better. It’s amazing how resilient children are. 24 hours, and as good as new. My mom took the girls to see “Horton Hears a Who” today. They loved the cartoon, of course. Although not nearly as much as the candy they got to eat while watching it at 10:30 this morning. When I asked Sophie the name of the movie, she exclaimed, “M & Ms!”

As long as she’s happy.

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

The Plague

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First it was Chloe, who flies off to Florida feeling like crap and comes home as good as new. Greeting her at the door is a very sick Mommy, who is feverish and has a hacking cough. Two days later, Daddy succumbs. And you know it’s bad when Daddy succumbs, because Daddy NEVER succumbs.

The icing on the cake arrived this morning. In the form of Sophie puking all over the kitchen floor. She spent the rest of the day trying to sleep it off. But no, we’re not done making the rounds yet. Because our dear babysitter is also afflicted. We sent her home a little early today.

This hasn’t happened to our entire family unit, ever. Falling like dominoes. One after the other. Like the plague. Except I suppose our 21st century bodies are better able to withstand the germs than they were back in the 14th century. We may have to quarantine ourselves if things don’t improve soon.