It’s official. My first week of work is over and I’m still standing. More important, my girls seem just fine. In fact, I don’t think they even missed me. Every morning, Sophie would see me off with a huge grin and a cheerful “Bye, Mom!” Chloe would barely look up from whatever she was doing to see me off. I like to think it’s because we’re raising confident, well-adjusted daughters.
All posts by Pink Me Not Mom
Homework Miracles
One of the things we stressed to Chloe before I returned to work was that she would be on her own to do her homework during the week. Of course, we would review her exercises when we got home, but she’d have to complete as much as possible in the afternoon hours.
My husband and I had our doubts. She’s a 7-year old girl, and if she ever listens to us the first go-round whenever we ask her to do something, for a split second we believe that miracles really happen. But as soon as we start to see a little halo floating above her head, we have to repeat ourselves at least five times when we make our next request.
Needless to say, over the course of several days, we gently reminded her of the new rules.
When I came home from work the first day, things were a bit disorganized, to say the least. But it wasn’t really Chloe’s fault. On the second day, her finished homework was waiting for us when we got home. And she did it well, too. On the third day, she used her assigned vocabulary words to write fantastic, creative sentences in her spelling journal. She even did research -verifying how to spell “chocolate” by looking at the package of Oreos in the closet. She did an equally impressive job tonight.
There’s no way of knowing how long Chloe will keep this up. But I’ll enjoy my small miracle while it lasts.
America at a Crossroads
Last night’s New Hampshire primary was fascinating to me. As I sat and watched the results slowly trickle in, it started to sink in that we’re truly all in for a big change.
Who would have ever thought, just a few years (or even months) ago, that two of the most serious contenders for the presidential nomination would be an African-American and a woman? It shouldn’t be such a startling thing, really. What is amazing to me is that the United States, for all of our talk of diversity and melting pots, is so homogenous when it comes to its politics. And that until now, the closest we’ve come to diversity in a President was a Catholic JFK.
I can’t wait to see the current administration pack its bags and take a long walk off of a short pier. In fact, I’d happily vote for a barrel of monkeys to lead this country – almost anyone would be better (except those freaky Republican candidates) than the clowns who have made us a laughingstock in the eyes of the rest of the world.
That said, the thought of having Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama occupy the Oval Office is thrilling to me. All the more so because there’s a good chance it might actually happen. And it’s about time.
When I think about Chloe and Sophie, and what Clinton and Obama represent for them, I can’t help but smile. Their candidacies prove (political affiliations notwithstanding) that one can reach for the stars and succeed, regardless of race or gender. What an incredibly important lesson to learn.
On Exhaustion and Lice
OK, random topics. But it’s because I’m exhausted and my mind is a mush of random thoughts. Also, the photo has nothing to do with the subject of this blog. It’s just kind of cute.
And I’m Off…To Work
This is a picture of Chloe jumping for joy at the prospect of my imminent return to work, because when Mommy’s at work, Mommy can’t bug her. Yep – it’s official now. Today was my first full day at the new job. So far, so good, at least as far as the office goes.
Attack of the Killer Sophie
Sophie was in one of her funny moods tonight. Her word of the evening was an emphatic “no” every time we tried to talk to her, laugh at her or smile at her. She circled the dining room table like a shark, waiting to pounce on us for any perceived slight, or any hint that we were enjoying ourselves at her expense. Our daughter is extremely amusing, so she had occasion to pounce quite a bit.
My Last Day with Sophie
The title of this posting is a little melodramatic, I admit. But as I was contemplating what I was going to write about this evening, it occurred to me that today was my last full day with Sophie before returning to work full-time on Monday. Wow.
Hip Hop Mama
I finally returned to the gym today, but I wasn’t really in the mood for my usual 40-minute torture workout on the elliptical machine. I noticed that there was a hip hop class and I was intrigued. Perhaps inspired by my two girls’ dancing to the “High School Musical” soundtrack every night, I decided to swallow my pride and give it a try.
I am not a good dancer. I am able to clap to a beat, but that’s about the extent of it. My husband and I took dance classes together before our wedding. Ballroom, rock ‘n roll, you name it. The lessons were useless. Our wedding waltz was charmingly laughable. His excuse was deafness in one ear. I had no such excuse – my ears are fine.
The class this morning was filled with women of all colors, young and old, thin and fat. And looks are truly deceiving. Some of the women you would think least likely to be able to carry a beat were amazing dancers. The 40-something Jewish mom, a Rubenesque woman with greasy hair pulled back in a ponytail, a tiny Asian woman… It was a celebration of girl power, for sure.
We danced (I’m using that word extremely loosely) to Timbaland’s “The Way I Are.” We learned about 15 different moves. And I realized that I have absolutely no coordination. The woman in front of me was a natural, and I tried to follow her lead. But as soon as I mastered a few steps, I was rarely able to remember what came next. The teacher initially threw watchful glances my way, but after about 1/2 hour, she had turned her attention to more promising candidates. By the end of the session, my mind was mush and my body ached all over.
In spite of my fatigue and awkward moves, I felt exhilarated. The thing is, I won’t be able to return to this class any time soon, since I will be tapping my feet to the beat of computer keys in my new office starting next week. However, the gym offers a beginners’ hip hop class on Saturdays. Maybe there’s hope for me yet.
Chloe’s “Buddies”
When I was about 12, I cuddled a different stuffed animal every night. Using a list I had created, I kept track of each animal’s turn so that none of them would feel left out.
I mentioned this anecdote to Chloe a few weeks ago. Evidently, my obsessive-compulsive behavior inspired my big girl, because last week, she created her own list. And she laid out her animals just so, using Sophie’s old baby blankets for both covers and mattresses, and tissues for pillows. Her toys sleep dormitory-style on the floor.
Because the animals are on the floor, they often get knocked around. Every evening, Chloe lovingly ensures that they are back in their proper tissue beds, cozy and happy.
Her m.o., however, is a bit different from mine. Rather than limit them to cuddles at sleeptime, she has daytime buddies and nighttime buddies. And two separate lists, with all of the animals’ names meticulously written down. She’s very proud of her system, of course.
The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. I think I’ll refrain from telling her, at least for another 10 years or so, that I had a system to categorize my record and book collections.
New Year, New Job
This is it. My first day of work is tomorrow. Even though I’m only going in for a few hours, and my first full day isn’t until next Monday, it’s the end of a mini-era in our household.