Rants from the Crib

An Ob/Gyn gone mad

Archive for the tag “daughter”

Mommies Don’t Need Showers

The same scene plays itself out at my house every morning.  I tell my daughter,  “I’m going to take my shower, honey.”. She mumbles “Mmmmh hmmmmm.”

I turn on the shower, get the temperature perfectly adjusted, and get in. Mmmm.  Nice hot shower. Peace and quiet.

Then I hear it:  “Mommeeeee!”. It always sounds urgent, so urgent that I am always suckered in. She sounds somewhat frantic, like she may have cut herself or broken something.

I pull the shower curtain back so I can hear her, since the situation is obviously so dire, and call, What, honey?”.  Of course all my nice warm steam is instantly gone and the cold rushes in. “MommEEEEEEE!  Where ARE you?!?!”

Well, this is infuriating on multiple counts. I told her I would be in the shower, explicitly so she would know where I was, so she would not come screaming around the damn house looking for me. So did she just totally ignore me, or is she playing dumb, because she can’t bear for me to have a moment of peace when I am in the shower?  AND, the water is running in the shower, so it should be damn obvious where the hell I am.

” I TOLD you, I am IN the SHOWER!”

“Mommeeeee!”

“I can’t HEAR you, the water is running!”

Closer now:  “MommEEEE!  Mumble mumble mumble ”

Pull back the shower curtain, cold air rushes in again. “WHAT?!?!”

” Mommeeee, are you dressed?”. She is not allowed to come in until I am dressed.

“Honey!  Would the water in the shower still be running if I were dressed???”

” Oh. No. Can I come in anyway?”

” ND!  I’M NOT DRESSED!”

“But I need …” (insert pointless nonessential thing here).

” NO!”

A pause. Will I finally get to finish my shower in peace?  Now:  whining and scratching. Our daughter desperately wants a puppy, which she has been told she cannot have. She launches into puppy mode, whimpering and wagging, and carrying balls in her mouth to fetch. More scratching and whimpering at the door.  The “puppy” has arrived. She almost certainly has a ball in her mouth. Patience is wearing thin.

“STOPPIT!”

“But Mommeeee!  I’m a PUPPY!”. Are you dressed yet??  Can I come in?  I PROMISE I won’t look!”

” No!  That’s not the point!”

” MEANIE!”

What the hell does she want?  Why can she not STAND for me to take a shower in peace?  Does she want to check and see if I am still a girl?  Is she jealous of any moment of time I have to myself?  Is she so lacking inner resources that she cannot tolerate even a few minutes alone?  Why must I be tormented every single time I take a shower?  By the time I am out I just want to choke her like a chicken.

I finally let her in. Now she stands on the side of the tub, staring at me while I put on my makeup. “What’s that??  Can I have some blush?  Is that a pimple?  Why does your hair look so funny?”

Am I too impatient, too intolerant?  Or is this behavior specifically designed to push all my buttons?  She is eight years old. Isn’t she too old for this bullshit?  Or does it just never end?  God, I hope it ends.

Trouble In School

My daughter is having Issues. Since she has started school, she has easily been a straight A student. She tested into the city’s magnet school, and until this year she has done super. Something happened this year. I don’t know if it was the switch to a new school for 3rd grade, or some issues with her dad, or her extreme social tendencies, or her proclivity for ridiculous drama, or all of the above.
There is a lot more homework this year, there is no doubt about that. But we check her work and go through it with her, and it clearly is not a problem with comprehension. Left to her own devices, she treats the work as nothing but that, an impediment to more fun activities, like goofing around with her friends.
Some of this may be her father’s doing. He grew up in a family that placed little or no value on education. He was the first person in his family to go to college. No one ever checked his work or encouraged him at all. No one in his family read. There were no books in the house. He read the encyclopedia because it was there and he was bored. He was bored in school because he was so bright, but no one bothered to work with him. He wishes constantly that someone had showed some interest in him,, because he would have gotten so much farther in life. So he is trying to give our daughter all the advantages that he never had, and I think he has pushed her too far. He made her do workbook pages all summer, and she was sick of them. Now I think her homework feels like an extension of that and it is just a hurdle to work through as fast as possible so she can get to the fun stuff. She is burned out.
Also she has an on again off again “boyfriend”, and this is causing a lot of problems. He is in her class, on her bus, and in her aftercare. He plays her against her little friend and alternates his “affections” between the two of them, which causes ridiculous drama, especially for 8 year olds. I think she thrives on the drama and does not wish or try to avoid it. This concerns me greatly – there was nothing like this going on when I was a kid and I don’t understand it. I don’t know where that drama gene came from – certainly neither her father nor I have it.
She brought home an ATROCIOUS paper last night – worst grade she ever got. It counted as a grade in two subjects and she got a 51!!  This was work to be done in class, and she tried to blame the little boy who sat next to her for “bothering and distracting” her. I told her this was completely unacceptable and in the future she was to tell the child to hush the heck up and leave her alone. Failing that, she was to request that her teacher move him or her to another table. She told me that hardly anyone in the class completed it but I think she is full of it.
Last night was such a treat. Yes, that is sarcasm. I made her finish the project she got the 51 on. There was so much wailing and gnashing of teeth it was really quite alarming. First she burst into tears and said her Daddy and I hate her, because she is a horrible person and makes horrible grades. This is not the first time this has come up, despite our efforts to reassure her to the contrary. Then she cried again and said everyone at school hates her because she’s annoying. Then she sobbed that she hates her life and everything in it. Does this sound like a healthy 8 year old?  I really don’t think so. A healthy (if unhappy) 14 year old, yes. So now I worry there is something wrong with her. And I am SICK of all the drama. I feel like we’re hit puberty already, and we should be years from that. I hate to make a big deal of it and take her to a shrink or something, but it just feels like something is wrong. Is she just a massive drama queen and I can’t relate to that?  Or is she already broken?  Lord, I feel I’ve been careful with her and raised her carefully. Does anyone out there have a drama queen (or king) and can relate?  Or do I need to seek professional help?

Weekly Photo Challenge: My 2012 In Pictures

These photographs are representative of my 2012 in photographs.  Actually, no.  These photographs are all of my daughter.  I guess that shows you the most important thing to me of all, in 2012 or in any year.  My daughter.  My beautiful daughter.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Thankful

Nothing makes me more thankful than the sight of my daughter, healthy and happy.  I have been thankful for her since the day she arrived (or even before).  She is a wonderful, bright, loving child and we are so blessed to have her!

Falling off the bike

Falling off the bike

Softball

My daughter has played softball for the last two years, and I must say I have more or less enjoyed it.  First of all, I have less than zero athletic ability and it thrills me to see that anyone descended from me could be good at anything physical.  She totally takes after her dad. 

The main pain in the ass is getting her to practices.  Since I am on call every third night, and hubby is out of town a whole lot, we juggle how we will get her to practice every night.  Sometimes K will drop her off at practice and I will pick her up.  Sometimes vice-versa.  Sometimes he’s out of town and I MUST take her there.  Sometimes I’m stuck at the hospital and he must take her there. 

We are very conscientious though, and always try to get her to practice and to the games.  She is actually one of the better players and they really need her.  Most of the time she plays Pitcher’s Helper (it is coach-pitch softball) and occasionally she plays first base.  She is very good at batting, running and catching and throwing, thanks to her father’s near fanatical year-round practicing with her.  That certainly doesn’t hurt her natural skills any. 

I love to go to the practices and the games.  I sit in the bleachers with the other parents and gossip and shout encouraging words and phrases at the kids as they play.  We make sure to root for all the kids when they bat or run or catch or throw.  I really feel like I’m part of something when I go to those games.  Next year I will get one of those t-shirts that say “Bean’s Mom” or somesuch.  I really do think A has a lot of natural skills.  Her father is one heck of a terrific athlete and I am so glad that she takes after him.

They practice all year round.  In the winter when it is cold, they throw and catch in the house.  K must have an awful lot of faith in her catching because she is standing right in front of some windows when they throw.  I guess the faith is justified because the windows haven’t broken yet. 

In the spring and summer and fall, we go out and bat in the driveway.  My knee is all bruised up right now because I act as a human backstop to keep the wild pitches from banging into the garage doors.  A wears her batting helmet and looks like an adorable little bobblehead with it on.  All those little girls look like bobbleheads in their little helmets as they run the bases.

Softball is so incredibly huge in the south for women that there is a gigantic department in the local athletic store devoted to just that; different sizes and weights of balls, bats, gloves, cleats, pants, shorts, jerseys and t-ball setups.  We own about fifteen balls (why do we need fifteen balls?).  You can get your bobblehead batting helmet airbrushed for a nominal fee at the mall.   A picked out a softball with flames coming out of it for her helmet.  She is jersey number 14 for her Tuppa’s birthdate and has been number 14 for the last two years.  We have two bats, one of which is too small for Amanda, but we bring it with us to practice for the littler girls to use. 

The beginning of the softball season is full of pomp and circumstance.  There is a massive truck parade on opening day, with demo games.  Each team decorates a pickup truck with their team theme (last year A was a Sassy Slugger – retch) with lots of balloons, noisemakers, magnetic softballs and lots of offkey singing.  The parade moves slowly from a park up to the softball fields, which are in the middle of nowhere.  I am always terrified that A will fall out of the truck on her head, even though they make the kids sit down.  You always read about terrible tragedies like that happening and I am a very paranoid parent.  The parade is big fun for the kids though. 

I hate driving the van over to the fields to meet the parade, because you can never find a damn place to park.  Actually, you can never find a place to park.  And that for me is a huge deal, because I cannot handle parking the van anyway.  It is huge and frightening, and I just know I will back out into someone else’s car or someone else’s kid, even if I do have the fancy backup camera thingie.  I am so damn anxious all the time, about driving, and parking, and backing up.  Some of it is just my anxiety, and may have nothing at all to do with actual van issues.  I just don’t know.  All I do know is, when I had my Porsche, I had absolutely no problem parking, backing or driving in tight spaces.  I sooo miss that car.  But I digress.

The last day of softball is also a huge deal – a gigantic double elimination tournament for four to six teams in each age group.  The damn thing takes all day and the kids and the parents get roasted.  By the end of the season, it is June and the summer sun is crashing down.  My folks had to take A to her season-end tournament because her dad and I were both out of town.  They said it was a blessing that A’s team was eliminated by mid-day.  They gratefully crawled out of the sun and went out for ice cream. 

So A seems to enjoy the softball thing, and so do her parents and her grandparents.  My only regret is that is her only extracurricular activity and we haven’t signed her up for anything else.  She has indicated an interest in gymnastics a couple of times but I frankly don’t think she has the aptitude for it.  We did try gymnastics when she was about three but she was not in the slightest interested, nor did she show any talent.  So I guess we’ll stick with softball. 

They certainly have enough other activities at A’s school, chess club and math club and Fabulous Fridays and such, so I think softball will just have to be her athletic thing.  I think she might even have a shot at college ball one day.

My Little Daughter Is All Growing Up

My daughter just turned seven, and it sure does seem like she’s all growing up.  She’s lost 7 baby teeth and has an adorable gappy smile where her new big grownup teeth are coming in.  She looks like a little jack-o’lantern (or a meth addict).  She knows all the songs on the radio, more than I do even, and she sings gamely along even when she has to make up the lyrics.  Which she does a lot.  She knows little popular expressions now – she called a funky bracelet I made “AWK-ward” and talks about “dissing” people and about how “random” things are.  She cares a great deal about how she dresses and spends time in the morning picking out just the right outfit.  She comes home and talks about boyfriends, and about how so-and-so LIKES her (which I am not sure I like at all) and she and her girlfriends wear each other’s jewelry and make big grown up trades of their plastic cell phones and Barbie dolls.  She can carry on a very grown up conversation and can now understand the plot line of a movie, even some more adult things.  She wants to be part of every conversation and doesn’t understand when she interrupts with silly things and we hush her.  Her ears are now pierced, and she very responsibly cleans them and brushes her teeth every night.  She just has a very few baby things left.  She will burst into tears when frustrated or when she doesn’t get her way.  There is high drama if she is denied at all; sobs of, “I never get anything.  I never get anything I want!!”  She told me once I was ruining her life because I would not let her bring her Nintendo DS on a field trip where they were going SWIMMING.  She is still unashamed of being naked and will happily run around the house or climb into your lap after she has taken off her clothes for her bath.  She still smells like a little one – there is still a baby smell to her hair.  This may have more to do with the fact that she uses baby shampoo.  She still sleeps with a stuffed animal and her soft blanket.  She still needs a night light.  Sometimes she gets in trouble at school for not paying attention and talking to the other kids.  She still gets put in time out.  She is just starting to question the existence of Santa Claus and the tooth fairy.  I am just trying to enjoy the rest of my snuggle time before she hits her tween years and is too cool to sit on my lap anymore.

Post Navigation