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By Missy, on September 7, 2011
Alternate title: Oh Shit!!
Yes, indeed. After The Summer That Flew By At Rocket Speed, Abby officially started Pre-K today. She did just fine. This first day of school thing is kind of passe for her, really. After all, she had a first day of school in the green room AND the purple room, Mommy.
And even though this feels so different to me – new school, actual “grade,” Catholic School rules – to her it’s just kind of been there, done that. In fact, when I told her we needed to take pictures this morning, she told me we couldn’t because, “We don’t have a sign, Mommy.” Little did she know that I’d already printed one out. HA! Take THAT, 4 1/2 year-old!
Outfit by Aunt Kit. Hairdo by Neila. Funky face by Abby.
We arrived at school in plenty of time (despite Daddy running late for the train and sending me into a tailspin of panic), and Abby settled in right quick. She found her hook with her name on it, hung up her raincoat and changed out of her rainboots all by herself.
Then Ms. Nita gave her a coloring sheet to fill out and a nametag to wear. Abby settled right in and wrote her name at the top of the page. Then she circled the words “school bus” and started jumping from number to number on the fishy rug behind her.
I expect the official takeover of the classroom in approximately 3 weeks.
By Missy, on August 18, 2011
Before.
Please note the dirty plate and glass teetering precariously on top of the 3-drawer unit. There are also at least 2 calculators in this picture.
After.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
By Missy, on July 29, 2011
So it’s 12 hours until I leave on a week’s vacation, I have nothing at all packed and I’ve spent the last 20 minutes illustrating a song that Abby wrote last weekend. She’s into songwriting these days. Usually they have just about one verse, maybe a chorus and they often have slightly ridiculous lyrics. The following song has made us all laugh so often this week, it just needed to be immortalized in a post of its own.
(Picture a 4 year old earnestly singing as her uncle strums along on his guitar, changing chords just about once a line.)
 (What? It got a little hard to understand her!)
(Big finish now…)
Bet you didn’t see that one coming, now did you??? I asked Abby to repeat her last 2 lines, and she sang out, pure and true “You are my God/You are my pie!”
I’ll see if I can get a video of her singing it while we’re on vacation and also if Jonathan can give me the guitar chords so you can sing along with this masterpiece at home.
By Missy, on July 25, 2011
Not much. The stage is decked out in super-fun party decorations, the better to fit the “Party Day” theme, naturally.
And maybe you get a juice box and some M&M’s as long as you promise not to spill on your party dress. (Which is actually your Easter dress and which almost doesn’t zip up anymore, even though Easter was like, a week ago but you keep on growing and growing and your Mommy maybe starts to cry a little at the thought of just how big you’re getting.)
And then Laurie Berkner! comes onstage and starts singing songs you know like “Victor Vito” and that one about a bumblebee and that other one about a bumblebee. And she’s really, really onstage and there’s Susie and Adam and some new guy named Bob. And you know all the words and you sing and dance along the whole time and it’s pretty awesome.
And maybe something that’s even better than seeing the LAURIE FREAKING BERKNER BAND live! and onstage!! is seeing your friend Shelby from school and discussing how you both got copies of the new Party Day DVD and holy cow you can’t wait to go home and watch them!
But you know what? One thing that’s guaranteed to better than just SEEING the Laurie Berkner Band live! and singing!! onstage!!! would be… Well it would be…
MEETING the Laurie Berkner Band after the show and having them sign your DVD and give you a picture of the band and signing that and sitting on LAURIE FREAKING BERKNER’S lap and all of them telling you how pretty your hair looks and how glad they are that YOU came to see THEIR show! And then you maybe don’t stop smiling for a couple days. That’s probably better than just seeing the show.
By Missy, on July 22, 2011
God help me, I’m actually writing a post about my baby losing her very first tooth! (In case you’re keeping score at home, Abby is still only 4 and a quarter years old.) We’ve known this was on the horizon for a little while now. Back at the start of June, Abby had her regular checkup and cleaning with our fabulous dentist. I broached the subject of her two lower teeth, which looked to me as though they were growing farther and farther apart. She replied (in her delightful French accent) “Well, they’re loose! I can feel it as I polish them.”
To which I replied “But, she’s only four!”
“Well, yes, four is at the younger end of the normal range, but it’s not unheard of to start losing baby teeth at four.”
“But she’s only just four! She’s four!!!!”
“Would you like me to take an X-Ray to see where things stand?”
“Sure, but she can’t be growing grown-up teeth yet. She’s only four.”
And sure enough, there it was, clear as day on the X-Ray:
 Holy crap, those are big grown-up teeth!! Giant, mutant, impossibly HUGE grownup incisors pushing her poor, innocent baby teeth violently out of the way! (With the next 2 ready to shoot up, too.)
The teeth continued to wiggle for the next few weeks. Eventually a moratorium was placed on eating whole apples in the car. We started avoiding very crunchy cereal. We began the talks about the Tooth Fairy and how when a tooth falls out, you put it under your pillow and she brings you stuff.
Fast forward to last night. Abby is overtired and overhot from the 100 degree weather. I need to run out to a meeting, but she wants to go to bed a half hour early so I can be the one to get her ready. We do the shower thing, the nasal rinse thing and are starting the oral hygiene thing. I’m flossing her teeth and I get to the looser of the 2 front bottom teeth. It wiggles violently. Abnormally. Way too much.
I ask her if it hurts to wiggle that much. “No, Mommy.” I ask if she wants me to see if it’s ready to come out. “Sure, Mommy.”
I tug a little and it seems to want to come out. I grab a tissue for a little better traction. “You sure you want me to do this, Abby?” Her wide open eyes look up at me. She knows that if this tooth comes out, the Tooth Fairy is coming. She gives a solemn nod. “Take a deep breath, sweetie.”
Out comes the tooth and Abby runs down to show Daddy and Grandma Jane. Daddy is on the phone with Grandma Judy already so she jumps on the line to say “I’ve got a loose tooth!! It’s out!!!” We grab an envelope to put the teeny, tiny little lump of calcium in and head up to bed.
“Mommy, I want you to write on the envelope for me.”
“What do you want it to say?”
“Dear Tooth Fairy, please take this tooth. I know you are busy with the boys and girls, but this is a very special tooth. It is my first baby tooth. Love, Abby.”
She carefully prints her name at the bottom and places the envelope under her pillow.
This morning, she bounds into our room at 6:00 on the dot. “Mommy, look!!! I have good news!!” A big purple envelope in her hand, with her name written in pretty, scrolly script. We get the envelope open after some struggle. (Apparently the Tooth Fairy uses some strong envelope glue. She’ll have to keep that in mind in the future when selecting envelopes.)
We read the letter (on Tooth Fairy letterhead! I wonder how long it took her to make that!), which is very nice and thanks Abby for the wonderful, special tooth and introduces her to her very own Tooth Fairy, Fairylina Abbalina. Inside the envelope is a shiny Sacajawea dollar coin!
So now, Abby keeps running her tongue over the other wiggly tooth and wondering when it might fall out. We’re going to have to make sure Fairylina Abbalina has another letter written in case that one falls out during vacation or while she’s at Grandma and Bapa’s for 2 weeks.
And get used to the new grin Abby’s sporting, which is harder than I expected it to be. She looks so OLD!
By Missy, on July 12, 2011
One of the fun things about living with a pond in the front yard is the ability to study nature up close and personal whenever I want. For instance, I know that if the pond turns brown and muddy, it’s probably because the culvert from the stream is blocked and I need to get into the (perishingly cold) water and un-block it. Also, if the fish all seem to be gone, I need to get more fish. Also, also, I’m pretty sure I need to get myself some water lilies or other big water flora to help re-balance the oxygen levels in the pond. (Don’t I sound like I know what I’m talking about??)
Another great advantage of having the pond – and a big picture window in my office through which to view it – is that we attract a large number of birds. (See Fish, depletion of.) Today, while taking the dogs for a quick stroll to the end of the driveway, Mary came in and announced ”I think there’s a whole family of herons out by the pond!” I looked through the aforementioned picture window and saw some cute, fluffy birds. Definitely juveniles, definitely NOT herons. No long necks. Duh.
So we all trooped out (without the dogs) and I took eleventy billion pictures of the birds, all cutely perched on their branches overhanging the water. They were still a little fuzzy/fluffy with youth and I swear one was pretending he was a model in BQ (Birds Quarterly, natch) turning this way and that to make sure I was able to catch him from every angle.
Of course, with these birds being NOT herons, I wanted to know what they were. So I Googled “juvenile kingfisher” since that was my next best guess. In a word, no. Not kingfishers. Not egrets either (but I knew that already, I just didn’t want them to be herons, thus proving me wrong). It was quite the puzzlement.
So I went upstairs and grabbed an old book, Birds of the World: A Checklist that had belonged to my Grandma Paula, an avid birder. To my surprise there were many, many, many species of… you guessed it, herons. I started searching for different species of herons that are native to this part of the world and lo and behold, I came across this image.
It’s of a juvenile green heron. Note the black tip on the beak, the greenish-yellow legs and the very white belly.
This is a picture of one of the birds from in front of my house. (The model.)
Note the black tip on the beak, the greenish-yellow feet and the very white belly.
Yeah, they’re herons. Mary, was right. Thus she won the birding prize of the day – a comparison photo of the birds, proving she was right.
I’ll just be over here, um, brushing up on my water bird species, I guess.
By Missy, on July 7, 2011
It’s been a little crazy around here. Since I last posted, I’ve been to CPSI for a week, then to Rome for 4 days, then catching up on all the work that all that travel entails. I’m going to LA next week and then I’m home but busy until we leave on vacation. Once again we are going to my favorite place in the whole world and I cannot possibly wait until the end of the month, but apparently I have to. Something about “work” and “commitments” and “my room won’t be ready.”
In the meantime, besides all the traveling, I’ve been dealing with a pretty constant and chronic arthritic flare-up. Remember all the walking I was doing back at the start of the year? Yeah, now not so much. I wake up stiff and sore every morning and although logically I *know* that exercise would help, I can’t get my brain to out-shout my body’s creaking protests and get moving. I almost started crying the other night brushing Abby’s hair because the pain in my hands was so severe.
I’ve been working with my rheumatologist to find the right medication for what is now obviously a chronic condition. And she’s gone ahead and prescribed it, we’ve done all the TB testing (I’m clear) and chest X-rays (also clear) and I now have a standing script for antibiotics since the drug can compromise the immune system. I’ve called the insurance company and made extra super-duper sure that they’re aware of my brand new patient co-pay number so my co-pays won’t be through the roof.
And yet, I’m still struggling a little bit. I thought I’d be over the moon once we determined a course of action and actually started treatment. But here I am, still stuck in insurance land, realizing that this changes a whole lot of things in my life that I might not have considered.
I need to travel with a sharps container now if I’m going to be away over a Thursday (my day to give myself the injection). I need to keep the medication in the refrigerator (does it go next to the cheese or the salad dressing?). I need to be aware once a week to make sure I remember my injections. I need to monitor my overall health pretty closely. I need to start thinking of myself as a “patient.”
I guess I hadn’t prepared myself for quite how much adjusting this might take. I was thinking “Yay! New medicine! Feel all better!” Not “Whoa! New medicine and a whole mess of other considerations.” I guess I’m in it now, and looking ahead, I am truly anticipating to feeling better as far as the arthritis goes. I’m grateful that there is a treatment and that I have the insurance and the means to pay for it. I’ll be fine, and pretty soon.
Just still struggling a bit for now.
By Missy, on June 17, 2011
Thank you for contacting Missylaneous Enterprises. We are sorry that service has been spotty lately, but all personnel are currently busy putting out other fires.
If you are calling about CPSI, including the brand-new Guides program, being a performer in the Hub, or planning and running a Core program, please contact Missy personally in Atlanta starting tomorrow.
If you are calling to find out how Abby is, please press 4, because she is 4. Very, very 4 with an independent streak as wide as – something very wide.
If you would like to speak to an associate about medical concerns, that’s too bad because insurance companies suck. Keep taking your naproxen and call us in a few weeks when we may or may not recall that you ever called us in the first place.
If you need more information about any of the other eighty-bajillion-million things Missy has going on right now, please hang up and try again. In July. After she gets back from CPSI and a business trip to Rome.
Thank you, your call is very important to us.
By Missy, on May 19, 2011
I was thinking about food lately. Probably because I have just not had it in me to grocery shopping in (mumble, mumble) weeks, so we’ve been doing a lot of eating out. Or maybe because of the new campaign to get McDonald’s to get rid of the Ronald McDonald character. Possibly, it’s because I’ve been watching Extreme Couponing and wondering if those people ever eat fresh produce. The net takeaway is that I’ve been thinking about food lately. But I already said that.
I have an odd relationship with food. I am… not svelte. I know I eat too much and I know eat many of the wrong things. And yet, I try, I really do try. I’ve read The Omnivore’s Dilemma. I started a garden (which is getting drowned like Leonardo diCaprio’s character in Titanic, but that’s another story). And when it comes to friends’ eating habits and allergies, I am a food savant – I know who’s off wheat, who’s a vegetarian, and when I need to make a dairy-free dessert because so-and-so is coming.
I find that I am particularly careful not to serve certain foods (or food-like substances) to Abby. Usually it comes down to sugar substitutes. For instance, I’m currently on a mission to remove high fructose corn syrup from our groceries. I just don’t see why we need to be eating that when good ol’ sugar will do. Then again, if somebody could explain to me what the hell sugar is doing in my HAMBURGER BUNS, I’d appreciate it.
Abby is also not allowed to have aspartame or other fake sugar substitutes. I don’t care for them (talk about tasting nasty and completely unlike sugar) and I don’t want to think about what they’re doing to her developing body and brain. Yuck. No thanks. Again, give us the real sugar, please so at least I know what we’re eating. I’ve also largely made the switch to antibiotic-free meats (when I can find and afford them), and we’ve been hormone- and antibiotic-free milk drinkers since Abby came along.
I try and buy organic fruits and veggies (especially the ones where we eat the skin), but simply can’t buy in to the idea of “organic” Oreo-like cookies. Just give me the Oreos. And when I buy “conventional” produce, I don’t check whether or not they’re genetically modified. The term is so broadly used it doesn’t have any meaning. Almost every ear of corn we eat today is genetically modified – it’s been bred to and cross-bred and hybridized to produce larger, sweeter kernels that stand up to hanging out on a grocery store (or farmer’s market) shelf. “Genetically modified” is almost as meaningless a term as “organic.”
Also, let me be the first to admit that my kid not only recognizes Ronald McDonald, she knows *exactly* which Happy Meal she’d like to order. We happily eat Oreos and Edy’s Ice Cream (oh, Thin Mint Ice Cream, how I love thee!). Kraft Macaroni and Cheese is an Honest-to-God staple in our house. I also take Abby to Starbucks once a week for a hot chocolate although in the hot weather, she’s started preferring a Strawberry Frappuccino. (Yes, I am that pretentious yuppie mom. Wanna make something of it?) No, I’m not sure what all they put in those flavor syrups, but she drinks a kid’s size (smaller than the small) beverage once a week, as a treat, and gets a much different dessert that night, like fruit.
Want to know what Abby thinks is the treat to end all treats? The one thing I’ve never bought her? Fruit snacks. You know those rubbery, gummy, sugary things that always say in BIG letters “made with real fruit” on the front, but list white grape juice as the 37th ingredient on the back? Yeah those. I won’t even buy the organic ones. When she gets them in a birthday party goody bag, Abby thinks she’s just scored a major haul. The reason I don’t like fruit snacks is simple – they stick to your teeth and having that much sugar – even “natural” fruit sugar – STUCK TO YOUR TEETH is bad for you. There isn’t a dentist alive who will tell you to give your kid fruit snacks.
Now I’ve said things in this post that I know will piss off some of my friends (many of whom read this blog – hi, guys!) and some things that piss of entire OTHER groups of friends (who also read the blog – hi to you too!). Maybe you would NEVER feed your kid a Happy Meal. Maybe you think antibiotic-free meat is one step closer to Nazism. Maybe you think I’m WAY off base about something else entirely.
Here’s the thing. Unless you grow and cook and bake all your own food, you’re going to have just muddle through and do the best you can, just like I do. You’re going to need to make choices about what you feed your family and why. And you’re going to need to draw some lines in the sand – yes to hormone-free milk, no to artificial sugar or whatever your personal line may be. And speak up – if you want to see more fresh veggies on the menu at the local fast food place – say so to the local store manager. Ask the grocery store guy to stock more healthy items or special order them for you. Find a CSA and receive all the fresh produce you can use. (This one bums me out because the closest one I can find is 45 minutes away.)
I know I’ve drawn some of my own personal food lines because I read a lot of blogs on the internet. (As opposed to blogs off the internet??) And many of the bloggers I read and respect are very into homegrown/healthy/organic/no artificial/etc. foods. I want to be like them. I don’t want to feed my family crap. But I’ve drawn other lines because my client list includes companies like McDonald’s and Kraft and Unilever. I know exactly how they craft their marketing messages, I sometimes help them do it. Does that make me evil? I don’t think so. I work in new products, where all the super cool new ideas are. And I believe the big foodies hear us. They’re working to make things better, healthier. Keep in mind that it’s a long, expensive process, but one they’re working on. We just need to keep being loud about (generally) not feeding our kids crap. But also remember that one mom’s crap is another mom’s favorite snack.
By Missy, on May 18, 2011
There’s been a lot of talk lately about whether or not the world is going to end right around 6:00 p.m. EDT this Saturday night. People have predicted worldwide earthquakes, the raising of the dead and other major events which rival any other Saturday night in your typical freshman college dorm. (And is it just me, or does the “raising of the dead” thing sound a bit more like the zombie apocalypse? I’m thinking I’ll just load up on zombie makeup and act like one of my new undead overlords until I find a way to escape.)
So where will I be at 6:00 on Saturday? Probably enjoying a drink, maybe already having my appetizer with a group of friends and family while waiting for Pesky J. Nixon’s 7:30 showtime.
See, I don’t believe that we can predict the end of the world. Maybe I’ve been to Church too much and heard this passage from Mark’s Gospel, chapter 13 too many times:
32 “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 33 Be on guard! Be alert[a]! You do not know when that time will come.
Plus, past doomsday prophesies have been, like SO accurate thus far, amirite? It’s not like 6,000 or more people have “accurately calculated” the exact date on which the world would end. Oh, wait. Yes they have. And yet, we are still here. And not to cast aspersions on the current prophecies, but the prophets ares till soliciting donations on their websites. What are they going to do with the money after Saturday anyway?
Now, I’m not here to make fun of anyone else’s faith. If you truly think that the world is going to end on Saturday, then I sincerely hope you’re spending these next few days praying and preparing yourself to meet God face to face. But to me that’s St. Mark’s exact message above. We DON’T know when God is going to decide to push the big red button in the sky and end it all. So we should spend EVERY day praying and acting as if we are going to meet God face to face any moment.
So, at 6:00 p.m. on May 21, 2011, I will be having a drink with friends, enjoying a meal and living this life God gave me to the fullest. And I don’t plan to leave instructions for the babysitters for avoiding zombies, either.
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