Shortyisms

Shorty is always saying something that makes me laugh or shake my head.  Most of the time I forget them before I ever get a chance to write them down but here are a few that have stuck in my head:

Shorty while talking to his Gram (my mom) on the phone – “Sshh mom, I’m talking to Gram and it’s a very important call.

What Shorty calls Big’s conference calls – Conversation calls

His response to me wondering aloud what I could use to get a stain out of the carpet – “Mom, you can use Woolite OxyClean.”  (Thanks Sprout channel for teaching my kid about the power of marketing .)

While watching a snake on Zoboomafoo I commented that I didn’t like snakes because they’re creepy.  Shorty pointed out to me that snakes are not creepy because they have no legs and can’t crawl.  They slither, not creep, because they’re not bugs.

And lastly he came out with this gem this afternoon.  When he lifted his shirt I commented that his belly was starting to look like my belly.  Shorty’s question, “You mean very fat?”

ta da boom!

Moments of Sunshine

That post I wrote a few days ago was pretty depressing and gloomy.  So that you know it’s not all bad here I wanted to share some good things that are happening.

Shorty is now starting to draw pictures that are recognizable.  Last week he drew train tracks andyesterday he drew his first person that actually looks  like a person.  I’m excited to see what his little mind and hands produce on paper.

After several days of colder than usual temps (like winter coat cold) we finally got two beautiful days.  Two days ago Shorty and I went to the bookstore just to get away from the house.  Shorty enjoyed his rich double chocolate fudge cupcake (as did I since I not only ate my mini pumpkin bundt but also finished his cupcake – can you hear my waistline expanding from where you are?) and he loved playing with the trains set up in the kid’s section.  We met a nice mom and her five year old son and spent a good afternoon chatting and playing with our new friends.  Yesterday we headed to the neighborhood park and enjoyed some sun and fun with all the other kids and parents.

I love taking Shorty to the park.  For some reason I always feel like everything goes well when we’re there.  Shorty doesn’t seem so quirky and he doesn’t do the things he does that drives me bonkers.  He loves playing with other kids.  I get to talk to other grown ups.  For that hour or so I feel like a normal mom and kid having fun.  There’s no pressure to try to be perfect.  The world feels right and I’m less stressed and everything feels natural. 

Last week Shorty and I also had a lot of fun building tracks with both Bristle Blocks and wooden train tracks.  We weren’t rushed or getting on each other’s nerves and I felt like I was a good mom.

So you see, it really isn’t always bad.  There are moments when the world is bright and beautiful.

Soup Dumplings

That last picture is a perfect example of what happens when you mix Chinese DNA with Italian DNA … a dumpling fan with an attitude.

Hiding

I’ve become the most absent blogger on the Internet I think.  I’ve neglected responding to comments, although I promise for the few of you that do comment I will comment back - just give me a little more time.  I know why I’m silent.  It’s not from lack of having things to say.  I have plenty to say.  It’s because the things I have to say are ugly and negative and I am tired of it all.

I’m in a bad place.  I mentioned that awhile back.  I’m still there and I have never really divulged the true nature of why I am there or how I’m feeling.  It’s embarrassing and complicated and besides I don’t want to hurt other people.  I’m trying to work it all out in my head.  It’s hard and it’s taking forever.  And I have excuses out to wazoo.

Excuse me for a moment because I’m going to sound like Oprah.  I feel like I’m not sure what my purpose in life is.  I feel spiritually empty and lost.  I know there is a higher calling for me (oh my God, did I actually just use that phrase?!), but I couldn’t for the life of me tell you what that calling is.  But I feel like life is passing me by and I’m missing it.  If I were to die tomorrow I honestly wouldn’t feel like I accomplished anything or that I was happy about the time I was here.

I thought being a mother was my calling.  Don’t get me wrong I love my son and I do love being a mother.  Yet, I’m not getting the joy out of this that I think I should be getting.  I’m stressed and unsure about my abilities as a mom almost all the time.  I don’t feel like I’m having much fun and I’ve become exactly the kind of parent I didn’t want to be.  I also feel terribly alone in all this.

I’ll refrain from going into my marriage because Big likes his privacy and would be pissed if I wrote anything about how I feel about that here where anyone could read it.  But that’s a problem in and of itself because I feel like I have no one to talk to about how I am feeling about this marriage and because I am one of those people who usually needs to talk about things.  Suffice it to say that’s lonely too.

The infertility stuff piles itself on top of everything else that weighs me down.  I do a pretty good job of hiding that pain from most people.  With everything else I’ve pretty much given up having another child because I’m not really in a place where I should be bringing another baby into this world of mine.  But that thought hurts even more.  And the guilt is terrible.

Somewhere along the way, and many years ago before Shorty, before Big, I lost me.  I forgot what it is that I like.  I’ve been trying desperately to please everyone but in the process I’ve made decisions that aren’t good for me.  I’m miserable.  And I’ve barricaded myself in so my misery doesn’t infect anyone else.  Except it is.  It makes Big and Shorty miserable.  It makes my family miserable.  It leads me to neglect even my closest friends and family.  Mostly it makes me miserable.  And lonely.  So lonely.  And angry.  I am an angry person.

I suspect it’s depression.  I also suspect it’s been stalking me since my early twenties.  It comes and goes.  And it comes and stays.  It’s caused me to pull away from people I loved because I didn’t want to hurt them with all my shit.  I feel like there are a million people I need to apologize to for my behavior.  I feel like I made a million bad life choices because of these feelings.

So I hide and I withdraw from everything and everyone (except Facebook for some damn reason).  I feel trapped and like I have no clue how to even begin taking steps to make everything right again.  But I try each day.  I think a lot.  Too much.  I try to find me under all the layers of crap that I’ve built around me over the years.

I’m not sure what this all has to do with this blog but there it is.  Now you know why I’m not here very often.  See I don’t want to infect any of you either.  And I’m not sure I can handle having other people know all this stuff about me.  Because, honestly, I’m not sure I could handle it if someone pointed out all the things I really try to keep buried so no one knows just how horrible I am.  But I do know that the loneliness is starting to strangle me and I need a shoulder to lean on to help me feel like I’m going to make it out of this mess sometime soon.

Children’s Names Meme

I have so many important posts rolling around in my head and in my drafts but things aren’t going well with them so I’ll take the easy way out and do this MEME I found while reading Jo-Lynne’s Musings of a Housewife blog.  Besides for those of you who don’t know, I am a baby name addict.  I’ve been reading baby name books since I was a little girl trying to name my Barbie’s and I spent years being a frequent reader and poster to those iVillage Baby Name boards (yep, I’m one of THOSE people).  So this MEME is perfect for a gal like me …

1.  Do you have any cultural or religious naming traditions?

I do not, but Big’s family does.  His family is Chinese and there is a very definite tradition in naming a Chinese child.  Names contain three parts.  The family name (or last name), the generational family name, and a third unique name.  Obviously, last names are used here in the U.S. so nothing changed in that respect other than that Chinese people say the last name first.  We chose to give our son (and will do so with any other children we may have) both an English middle name and a Chinese middle name.  Big’s mother chooses the Chinese name.  Our son’s Chinese middle name consists of two parts (or names).  The first part is the family generation name for our children’s generation.  The second part is a unique name that my mother-in-law chose.  All of our children will have the same first part.

2.  Did you or your partner come to the marriage with pre-selected names?

Big did not.  Being a name addict I had a few girl names that I really loved and wanted to use.

3.  Did you consider the sound of the first and middle and last names together?  Did this make any sad eliminations?

Are you kidding me?  I did mention that I am obsessive about names, right?  Because we have a rather unusual last name that sounds like a word in the English vocabulary there are a few names that we just can’t use.  Names like Kim and Ben are definitely out.  One syllable first names aren’t good either because our last name is only one syllable.  And I’m really struggling with the use of Emma even though Big and I both love it because when said with our last name it sounds like a strange sentence or question.  Also, names that begin with the ’sh’ sound’ because it’s way too much alliteration for my taste.  And names that end in the ’s’ or ’sh’ sound because it runs right into the last name.  As you can see that takes a lot of names off the board.

4.  Did you have veto powers?

Of course, I had veto power.   So did Big.  Sadly, because I did most of the suggesting Big did most of the vetoing.

5.  Did the baby naming cause arguments?

Surprisingly, no.

6.  Do you think it is easier to name boys or girls?

Seeing as we never did really discuss or pick a name for a girl I don’t really know which would have been easier for Big and me.   I strongly suspect boys would be easier for us to name.  We’re more on the same page there.  He doesn’t like most of the girl names I suggest so I’m guessing if we have to name a girl there might be some issues.

7.  Did you eliminate names because of people from your past or present who you don’t like or because a certain image comes to mind?

No, exes.  The only other name Big vetoed was Matthew because he has a bad association.  Sadly, it’s a name we both like.

8.  Did you / would you survey your children to get their thoughts on the name?

Shorty is too little right now for that.  I have asked him about some names just to hear him say them in his cute little voice.  I might consider asking school-aged children their opinion only because they might have some better insight as to teasing potential of a name.  When I was pregnant with Shorty I did ask my nephew’s thoughts.

9.  Did you tell people the name or possible names before the baby was born or were they “in the vault”?

I can’t keep a secret for beans.  Or at least not naming secrets.  So yeah, we told people the names we considered.  But we didn’t listen to all the negative comments we received on all our name choices.  My grandmother in particular was brutally harsh.  She still doesn’t like our son’s name.

10.  Did you use baby name books?

Um, yeah.  And I went to baby name boards and got feedback there too.

Drumroll please … What did you name your kids?

HAHA!  Do you really think I can divulge that information?  Remember, the blog is called INCOGNITO MOM.  But here’s the rundown on how we came up with Shorty’s name:

Shorty’s first name means “son of” my husband’s first name.  It was our compromise to the whole Junior thing.  I’m half Italian and my family is plagued with tons of fathers, sons, and grandsons all with the same darn name.  I did not want another Junior.  So the “son of” name we chose honored my husband but allowed my son to have his own name.

I mentioned that Shorty had two middle names.  I told you about his Chinese middle name in question #1.  When translated it roughly means “to have magnificence”.  We joked and called Shorty the Magnificent one for a while.  Shorty also an English speaking middle name, which is the one we use on documents (other than his birth certificate which has both middle names).  I picked this middle name.  He has the same middle name as my brother.  It’s a name I helped my mom chose when my brother was born.  It was also a way to honor my side of the family since so much of Shorty’s name honors Big’s side.

If we have any other children I may try to carry on the tradition of making the English speaking middle name one that is a family name (from either Big’s side or mine).  And next time I want more say in the first name of my child.  I don’t dislike Shorty’s name but it was not my first choice.

So there you have it.

I’m not going to send out tags … if you want to play along consider yourself tagged … and let me know so I can read your kid’s naming story.

Hmm, Nothing?

So I saw this little quiz on Faemom’s blog and being a HUGE book lover I thought, “Why Not?”  Maybe I should have just left things well enough alone …

You’re The Sound and the Fury!

by William Faulkner

Strong-willed but deeply confused, you are trying to come to grips
with a major crisis in your life. You can see many different perspectives on the issue,
but you’re mostly overwhelmed with despair at what you’ve lost. People often have a hard
time understanding you, but they have some vague sense that you must be brilliant
anyway. Ultimately, you signify nothing.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

It’s That Time Again

Fall, for many of you it’s the time of year when your kids start back to school.  Here in our house Shorty hasn’t started school yet.  Not even preschool.  This is the time of the year when we sign up for all those wonderful and overpriced kiddie classes.  A mom and kid need something to do when the cold, dreary days of fall and winter set in.  Or maybe it’s just this mom who needs it because Lord knows I might go insane if I have to be the only source of entertainment for my child every second of every minute of every hour of every stinkin day.  So back to Kindermusik and Lil Kickers we go, as well as story time at the local library which is FREE!  FREE, I say!  God, I love the library.

Being the neurotic worrier that I am, I did nothing but fret about how this round of classes would go.  I mentioned in the past that Shorty is not always the easiest child to manage in these environments.  You see my child is not the type who sits quietly and does whatever he is told to do.  He’s highly active, highly curious, and has a mind and will of his own.  The “experts”, I’m sure, would classify him as a spirited child.  Me, I’m willing to bet that’s only part of the story.  I think it has more to do with my parenting skills (or lack thereof) but that’s a story for another day.

I was worried that I would spend endless weeks trying to convince my son that sitting and taking part in the activities like most of the other obedient children would be so much more fun than wandering around the room opening doors or resisting the instructor led activities.  I was also really scared about the prospect of Kindermusik this time around as Shorty has reached the age group in which parents are not supposed to be in the room until the last 10 minutes of class.

Well, maybe I worried for no reason.  We’ve got three story times at the library under our belt and it hasn’t been so terrible.  No, Shorty does not sit on the rug in front of the librarian nor does he even really sit during the stories.  He quietly walks around the top riser in the reading room and listens to the stories.  Once in a while he stops to sit in my lap and really pays attention.  I am amused at the look of puzzlement he gives the other children when they are dancing around to the few songs the librarian does.  Seems he didn’t inherit his mother’s love of dancing.  In fact, when the music is going and he is supposed to be moving around this is when he chooses to sit or stand and watch the goings on.  I wish I had a picture of the face he makes because it’s truly priceless.

After two Lil Kicker’s sessions I’m feeling like maybe there is a chance that someday he will not need to have my husband or me on the field with him.  I’ve finally convinced Big that we need to leave at a certain time so that Shorty has enough time to run around and transition before the class starts.  I’m also realizing that for some reason when it comes to Lil Kicker’s Shorty is slow to transition himself into the swing of things.  He fights us tooth and nail on sitting in the opening circle time as the ball is rolled to each child and they say their names and then roll the ball back to the coach.   Case in point – this week when the ball came to him and he was supposed to say his name and favorite color his answers were, ”Nobody and nothing at all.”   (Yeah, I could see the look on some parents’ faces as they thought to themselves how lucky they were that their child wasn’t so bratty and rude.)  He also has a hard time getting into the exercises that come after circle time.  It’s not until a game of red light, green light commences that he pulls himself together and joins in the fun.  I’m still trying to figure how we can get him ready to participate from the beginning of the class so those first few minutes aren’t so cringe worthy for us all.

Week one of Lil Kickers went better than week two.  I think this may have something to do with the coaches.  Week one we had the coach who will be teaching this session and his assistant.  Two male coaches.  This is a first for Shorty as he’s only had women teachers and coaches thus far.  Coach Bill speaks loud enough that it is easy for all parents and children to hear.  He also runs his class very efficiently with few moments of lag time.  His assistant, Coach Kieran, is good at focusing attention on the hard cases and engaging them to draw them back into whatever activity is taking place.  For the first time Shorty actually did really great.  The best part was when the class ended he said, “That was fun!”  This made me feel like I was walking on air because that is exactly how I want Shorty to feel about these activities.

Week two Coach Bill was not there as he was attending a wedding and Coach Kieran was helping with another class whose coach was also missing.  We had one of the coaches who speaks too softly.  No one can hear her and thus it’s hard to know when activities are changing or what the new games are.   Shorty took longer to engage and his attention waned more often.  She’s not a bad coach but I’m looking forward to Coach Bill’s return next week.

Kindermusik was the one I worried about the most.  In previous classes Shorty would get up and check out the fan, the closet, the door – sometimes even running out of the room.  I constantly had to bring him back and keep him on task.  The teacher and I had exchanged emails about whether or not she felt Shorty was ready for a class in which I wasn’t in the room.  Her feeling was that separating from me would not be an issue for him but whether he could stay on task would be the challenge.  We agreed that we would try without me in the room and if necessary she would come get me to sit in and keep Shorty engaged.

Surprise, Surprise!  We had our first class Friday and I was not the mom who was called into the room, nor was Shorty the most disruptive kid.  Oh, I heard Miss Joan tell Shorty to come back to the rug a few times, which he always did, but for the most part he did what he needed to be doing.  In fact, it wasn’t until the moms came back in the room for the last few minutes of class that he started to lose his focus.  I’m beginning to sense that he’s better off when I’m not there.  We’ll see if the weeks to come are as successful.  I’m praying they are.  I’m also praying that the little girl who SCREAMED and cried through the whole class, even with her mom in the room, will adjust and settle down.  I felt for her mom.  You could see how stressed and embarrassed she was.  As someone who has worn the stressed and embarrassed mom hat my heart goes out to her. 

I’ve been praising him up and down for how well he’s doing with his listening in classes.  I’m trying to emphasize how much more fun the activities are for him when he listens to the directions and participates.  At the same time I don’t want to overpraise him for things he is supposed to be doing.  It’s a fine line between encouraging your child to behave in certain manners and making his every move seem like something that needs an all out celebration.

What has brought about some of these changes in Shorty?  I’m not sure.  Maybe he’s just growing up and is more ready to handle these activities.  Maybe it’s the fact that since we’ve gotten the big boy bed he is sleeping more than he ever did and therefore is more well rested and ready to pay attention.  I do know that I am feeling slightly less stressed about these classes and am hoping that less stress for mommy trickles down to more fun for Shorty.  Time will tell.

Thoughts

A few thoughts running through my mind this evening …

How does the nice, safe, little working class town where I grew up turn into a place where five people are shot most likely for drug reasons?  And it isn’t the first time it’s happened in the last few years.  Sad, shameful, and scary.

How do I reconcile the family we were before drugs with the family we are after drugs?  How do I even begin to explain it to other people so they understand?

Healthcare – how do I decide which direction I should be on in this battle?  I know there are a lot of things broken with our current system but really is government run healthcare the only solution?  Can’t we do better?  I swear I want everyone who wants or needs healthcare to have it but our government hasn’t really done such a fine job with running Social Security, the postal office, or now the car industry.  Do we really want to put healthcare in their hands too?  I don’t know the answer to all these questions or the solutions but could someone who does please step up and speak.

I grew up in a blue collar family and am now living in a white collar world.  I feel guilty and even a little dirty and almost like I should apologize but for exactly what I’m not sure.    I usually don’t feel like I fit in either world.  Is that normal?

 Why does my husband usually seem more passionate about politics, gaming, and business than he does about me?  Am I just imagining this?  Do I do the same to him?

Why the H-E-double hockey sticks haven’t I even attempted to find a hairdresser who works closer than an hour and a half from where I live?  I’ve been going to the same woman since I was nine years old for God’s sake!  Why does it feel like I would be committing some heinous crime for finding someone more convenient and why am I so afraid that there is no else who can make me beautiful?

Why do I poop so much?  (Sorry, way too much info for y’all but really why?)  Two to three times a day can’t be normal, can it?

And why can’t my kid have an easier time pooping?  The kid gets seriously constipated sometimes.  It’s heartbreaking to see.

Oh, and while we’re on the topic of bathroom issues … when is my kid going to think it’s a good time to start using the potty?  Seriously, dude, you’re three now.  Stop resisting and telling me you want to wear diapers and be little forever.  You loved the new Cars underwear I put you in today … right up until the point where you peed all over yourself and the kitchen rug.  I’m desperate.  You don’t want to sit on the potty and when you do sit all you want to do is diddle with yourself. You have yet to produce anything but farts when you finally do sit on the potty.  Is cold turkey and lots of pee on the floor really the only way you’re going to get the message that it’s time to lose the diaper?!

When is my husband going to replace the two burnt out lightbulbs in the garage ceiling so that we have light when we go to throw the trash away at night?

When, oh when, am I finally going to do something about the way this blog looks?

Is my thyroid medicine making me crazy?  I’m really beginning to think some of my anxiety, anger, and high strung issues might be these little pills I have to take every morning.  I didn’t take it for three days (yeah, I know that’s not good) and I think I felt calmer and more relaxed.  Took it again today and I feel keyed up, impatient, and almost violent.  Is it PMS or that one mug of caffeinated coffee I drank?  Tomorrow I’ll take the pill but not drink the caffeine.  Let’s see how I feel.  I’m a friggin’ science experiment.

Anyone still reading this?  God bless you if you hung in there. That’s enough thinking for one night, don’t YOU think?

Finally Moving My Butt

I’m doing something for me these days.  I have finally reached a point where I can’t stand the way I look.  Two weeks ago I got my hair cut and colored; something I should be doing way more often than I do.  This week I started using the elliptical that my husband bought eight years ago and uses religiously.  It’s been at least five years since I’ve done any sort of exercise.  My heart and muscles are in a state of shock at the moment that they are being asked to actually do something in the form of exercise.

The first night I got on the darn machine I almost died after only eight minutes.  Night two was only slightly better in that I pushed myself to go eleven minutes but I still felt like I would die.  I took two unplanned nights off but wasn’t going to let a third night escape without attempting to do some exercise.  I’m pleasantly surprised to say I did 18 minutes and when I was done I felt so much better than I did those first two nights.

I know those of you who actually exercise are laughing at me right now.  Eighteen minutes and she thinks she really accomplished something – hahahaha!  Well, dangit, I am proud of myself.  I’m hopelessly out of shape.  I know I’m not setting the world on fire but to me I feel so much better knowing that I am at least attempting to do something about the sorry state my body has gotten itself into.  With any luck this will be a starting point for a more active lifestyle that will result in a happier, more attractive me.

The best part is that I’m also less likely to do the late night snacking that helped put the extra 15-20 pounds on.  Exercising has made me slightly more mindful of what I am putting in my mouth.  If I’m lucky this increase in activity and less snacking will result in smaller clothing sizes in the future.  Now that would be something to celebrate.

Preparing for the Frat Party Years I Suppose

I’m beginning to second guess the wisdom of buying this camera for my three year old.  His idea of a great shot and mine are not the same.  Shorty’s new way to torture me is to bust into the bathroom while I’m doing my business and take pictures of mommy on the toilet.  Sadly, of all the pictures he’s taken these always seem to be the clearest shots.  I guess I should be thankful that it’s a digital camera because I’d hate to think of pictures like this in the hands of some teenager at the local picture development place.  Look out future frat brothers you may be his next target.  Fortunately, he doesn’t know about YouTube … yet.