4 year old son: Look Mommy, the sun is going down.
8 year old daughter: **eye roll** This sun isn't going down [thinking to herself this kid is an idiot] the planet is rotating...
4 year old son: **looking at sister like she's lost her mind** Look Mommy, the sun is going down.
Me [in front]: **giggling**
8 year old daughter: **exasperated** The sun doesn't go down [you know she wants to say dammit here. You just know it.] the planet rotates!
Me: **snorting**
4 year old son: Oh look, the moon is going up.
Showing posts with label .Embarrassing my Kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label .Embarrassing my Kids. Show all posts
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Picking my child's friends
*Sigh*
I feel like a heel. But I don't really know what to do about it.
My eight year old daughter made a friend at school this year. A very very obnoxious friend.
This kid drives me up the wall. It started kind of slowly. She would walk home with us occasionally and one day she pipes up... So, how come you don't let your daughter have Bratz dolls? Just 'cause you don't like them!? My mom's nice and....
That's as far as she made it before I let her know that I wasn't going to change what toys I allowed in my house because some random 8-year-old objected to it.
It's been rapidly deteriorating ever since then.
Her mom invited my daughter to go on a play-date with them and I said okay. I met the mom and she seemed nice enough and they we're going to be close by. The mom did mention how glad her daughter was to make friends with my daughter since she'd had a hard time making friends since they'd moved to the area last year-- that was the first warning sign.
Anyway, we traded play-dates a couple of times until my daughter mentioned that while she was at her friend's house, the mom had been letting the girls play out front without any supervision.
What the hell? Did I miss something here? I don't remember being asked if I was okay with my daughter playing outside unsupervised. Maybe I'm over-protective. But my kid is only eight and not a big eight-year-old at that.
I found this out just before I was to take my daughter over to their house for another play-date. So, as nicely as I could, I told the dad when we arrived that I wasn't comfortable with my daughter playing in front of the house without an adult present. Just as I say that, their 12 year old daughter pipes up....oh, I was going to take the girls to the park today to play. Is that okay?
What!? Are you kidding me? You were going to send my daughter to the park, with only a 12-year-old to watch over her, without asking me first? Are you f***ing kidding me?
So, as angry as I was, I held it together and said that I preferred that my daughter be watched by an adult. Needless to say, I haven't let my daughter go over there since.
But this isn't going away quietly. This kid. This obnoxious child. She calls my house at least twice a day. They live right down the street (an argument for never letting your child play with neighborhood kids) and she shows up on my doorstep unannounced at all hours of the day and night. I've had to tell her not to call my house late at night and that we would prefer she not show up on the doorstep without calling first--especially after dark.
We tried to tell our daughter to try to make some other friends at school and not hang out with this kid exclusively. With those instructions, my daughter walks up to her at school one day and proclaims.. I can't be your friend anymore. Ouch! I said to make other friends, not rip the kid's heart out! Of course, that day we had this little girl on our doorstep, leaving notes and breaking my heart. Of course, once we realized what our daughter had done, we told not to be that harsh and we had to back-pedal a bit just to make sure our daughter didn't turn into some heartless wench. ((My daughter could care less if she plays with this kid. She's okay if they do get together, but not bothered at all if I say no))
But now it's summer and this kid won't leave us alone. I'm getting calls everyday and she keeps trying to get my daughter to come over to play-- when hell freezes over.
I don't know what the deal is with this kid's parents. I don't know why they let their daughter run all over the neighborhood they way they do. I don't know why they let her make us hostages in our home.
For the time being I'm pretty much not answering the phone. I know it's childish, but I keep hoping this kid will lose interest if no one gets back to her. I've tried to gently talk to the parents, but them seem kind of oblivious. You'd think they'd get the hint when we pretty much cut off all the play-dates, but they don't.
Somebody please make this child leave us alone.
I feel like a heel. But I don't really know what to do about it.
My eight year old daughter made a friend at school this year. A very very obnoxious friend.
This kid drives me up the wall. It started kind of slowly. She would walk home with us occasionally and one day she pipes up... So, how come you don't let your daughter have Bratz dolls? Just 'cause you don't like them!? My mom's nice and....
That's as far as she made it before I let her know that I wasn't going to change what toys I allowed in my house because some random 8-year-old objected to it.
It's been rapidly deteriorating ever since then.
Her mom invited my daughter to go on a play-date with them and I said okay. I met the mom and she seemed nice enough and they we're going to be close by. The mom did mention how glad her daughter was to make friends with my daughter since she'd had a hard time making friends since they'd moved to the area last year-- that was the first warning sign.
Anyway, we traded play-dates a couple of times until my daughter mentioned that while she was at her friend's house, the mom had been letting the girls play out front without any supervision.
What the hell? Did I miss something here? I don't remember being asked if I was okay with my daughter playing outside unsupervised. Maybe I'm over-protective. But my kid is only eight and not a big eight-year-old at that.
I found this out just before I was to take my daughter over to their house for another play-date. So, as nicely as I could, I told the dad when we arrived that I wasn't comfortable with my daughter playing in front of the house without an adult present. Just as I say that, their 12 year old daughter pipes up....oh, I was going to take the girls to the park today to play. Is that okay?
What!? Are you kidding me? You were going to send my daughter to the park, with only a 12-year-old to watch over her, without asking me first? Are you f***ing kidding me?
So, as angry as I was, I held it together and said that I preferred that my daughter be watched by an adult. Needless to say, I haven't let my daughter go over there since.
But this isn't going away quietly. This kid. This obnoxious child. She calls my house at least twice a day. They live right down the street (an argument for never letting your child play with neighborhood kids) and she shows up on my doorstep unannounced at all hours of the day and night. I've had to tell her not to call my house late at night and that we would prefer she not show up on the doorstep without calling first--especially after dark.
We tried to tell our daughter to try to make some other friends at school and not hang out with this kid exclusively. With those instructions, my daughter walks up to her at school one day and proclaims.. I can't be your friend anymore. Ouch! I said to make other friends, not rip the kid's heart out! Of course, that day we had this little girl on our doorstep, leaving notes and breaking my heart. Of course, once we realized what our daughter had done, we told not to be that harsh and we had to back-pedal a bit just to make sure our daughter didn't turn into some heartless wench. ((My daughter could care less if she plays with this kid. She's okay if they do get together, but not bothered at all if I say no))
But now it's summer and this kid won't leave us alone. I'm getting calls everyday and she keeps trying to get my daughter to come over to play-- when hell freezes over.
I don't know what the deal is with this kid's parents. I don't know why they let their daughter run all over the neighborhood they way they do. I don't know why they let her make us hostages in our home.
For the time being I'm pretty much not answering the phone. I know it's childish, but I keep hoping this kid will lose interest if no one gets back to her. I've tried to gently talk to the parents, but them seem kind of oblivious. You'd think they'd get the hint when we pretty much cut off all the play-dates, but they don't.
Somebody please make this child leave us alone.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Can a daughter be too pretty?
You're gonna think I'm just a bragging mom. Maybe I am a little. But I have a seriously gorgeous kid.
See, you think I'm bragging.
But from the time she was an infant I've had people stopping me to comment on how beautiful she is.
You still think I'm just bragging.
I got cornered once in the meat section of the grocery store by four people- who did not know each other- who said they had to come over and look at the gorgeous baby. I am not making this up. I've had a lot of people ask me if she models and even had one woman dig up a magazine to show me a picture of a child who looks amazingly like my kid. I swear she still thinks I'm hiding my child's secret modeling career.
The point of all this is that it's kind of tough to encourage your kid toward a career in medicine while everyone else is saying she ought to model. A couple of weeks ago my husband's family was over at the house and the conversation was something like this.
Great Grandma: Oooooh, look at those long legs, you should be a model dear.
Me: Or a doctor.
Grandma: Oh I know, she could be an actress.
Me: Or a doctor.
Great Grandma: And those eyes, definitely a model.
Me: Or maybe she could GO TO SCHOOL.
*Sigh*
I'm happy my daughter is pretty. Mostly. But I also fear the fact that people (like family) might skew her perception of reality and make her think she doesn't need things like an education. Or a personality.
And don't even get me started on boys.
See, you think I'm bragging.
But from the time she was an infant I've had people stopping me to comment on how beautiful she is.
You still think I'm just bragging.
I got cornered once in the meat section of the grocery store by four people- who did not know each other- who said they had to come over and look at the gorgeous baby. I am not making this up. I've had a lot of people ask me if she models and even had one woman dig up a magazine to show me a picture of a child who looks amazingly like my kid. I swear she still thinks I'm hiding my child's secret modeling career.
The point of all this is that it's kind of tough to encourage your kid toward a career in medicine while everyone else is saying she ought to model. A couple of weeks ago my husband's family was over at the house and the conversation was something like this.
Great Grandma: Oooooh, look at those long legs, you should be a model dear.
Me: Or a doctor.
Grandma: Oh I know, she could be an actress.
Me: Or a doctor.
Great Grandma: And those eyes, definitely a model.
Me: Or maybe she could GO TO SCHOOL.
*Sigh*
I'm happy my daughter is pretty. Mostly. But I also fear the fact that people (like family) might skew her perception of reality and make her think she doesn't need things like an education. Or a personality.
And don't even get me started on boys.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Is This Really My Child?
I wonder if my son was switched at birth. It just doesn't seem possible that he could be related to my daughter. My girl is such a mellow kid. We're moving soon and it's not bothering her at all. I was neurotic about moving her because I moved so much as a kid but she just takes a look at her new walk-in closet, says "cool" and is good-to-go.
My son freaks out if I leave the room.
My son is the kid you see in the McDonald's play area climbing on the side of play structure above the "do not climb" sign. He's the kid who picks up the bark at the park and throws it everywhere. I am the mom everyone looks at like "can't you control your kid?" No. Not really.
He's killing me.
I mentioned on my sci-fi blog how my son is going through a potty mouthed phase. At first I didn't believe what I was hearing. My son is a little bit speech-delayed (he's too busy climbing the walls to worry about talking) and his words aren't always that clear. At first I thought, well maybe he's saying "sit." But no, he wasn't explaining what his toys were doing on the floor, he really was exclaiming "shit!" whenever something didn't go his way. *Sigh* I got stop saying that every time I find that he got into the permanent ink markers and christened my couch....again. I still haven't figured out how to get the black ink off his belly from last time.
This week it's Halloween. To most people that might mean costumes but to my son it means candy. More specifically, chocolate. I will say this, the child has the good taste to prefer chocolate over all the other stuff most taste-impaired children go for. My daughter will trade a Kit-Kat for a gummy worm. Helloooooo? But not my son. He holds up his candy bar triumphantly and cries out "CHOCOLATE!" before smearing it all over his face and my furniture.
And now I'm trying to move and deal with this child. I'm pulling my hair out. He is the master of dragging the dining room chairs around to get into the higher cupboard-- or on top of the fridge. No place is safe from this child. I caught him with a knife the other day as he was trying to use it to open a candy package he had grabbed off of a high shelf.
And lest you think I leave this child unattended, let me assure you this is not the case. The last time he got a hold of a Sharpie, I had been following him around all morning. My husband has asked me to do all the transferring of utilities from the old house to the new, and I was making phone calls. I kept a note pad with me so I could be mobile and kept following my son as I made my calls. I'd go downstairs and dial and he'd immediately go upstairs. I'd follow him up as the phone was ringing and he'd turn around and go down. This went on for awhile until I got in the middle of a conversation with the cable company and realized after two minutes I my son was on the opposite floor again. I followed and found that he had pulled the Sharpies from the shelf (I think he stood on a box to get to them) tore open the package and got to work. He hit the couch, the kitchen floor, two tables and himself before I stopped the madness. Fortunately I got there before the ink was dry and managed to prevent any permanent damage. Thank God my husband wasn't home. The neighbors would have turned us in for sure.
But this is what it's like every day. I'm so tired I can't stand it. Between my family chaos and my son I need a sedative-- but I'm afraid I'd like the happy pills too much, so I'll stay away thank-you-very-much.
But what the heck do I do with a kid on testosterone overload? Seriously. Ideas?
My son freaks out if I leave the room.
My son is the kid you see in the McDonald's play area climbing on the side of play structure above the "do not climb" sign. He's the kid who picks up the bark at the park and throws it everywhere. I am the mom everyone looks at like "can't you control your kid?" No. Not really.
He's killing me.
I mentioned on my sci-fi blog how my son is going through a potty mouthed phase. At first I didn't believe what I was hearing. My son is a little bit speech-delayed (he's too busy climbing the walls to worry about talking) and his words aren't always that clear. At first I thought, well maybe he's saying "sit." But no, he wasn't explaining what his toys were doing on the floor, he really was exclaiming "shit!" whenever something didn't go his way. *Sigh* I got stop saying that every time I find that he got into the permanent ink markers and christened my couch....again. I still haven't figured out how to get the black ink off his belly from last time.
This week it's Halloween. To most people that might mean costumes but to my son it means candy. More specifically, chocolate. I will say this, the child has the good taste to prefer chocolate over all the other stuff most taste-impaired children go for. My daughter will trade a Kit-Kat for a gummy worm. Helloooooo? But not my son. He holds up his candy bar triumphantly and cries out "CHOCOLATE!" before smearing it all over his face and my furniture.
And now I'm trying to move and deal with this child. I'm pulling my hair out. He is the master of dragging the dining room chairs around to get into the higher cupboard-- or on top of the fridge. No place is safe from this child. I caught him with a knife the other day as he was trying to use it to open a candy package he had grabbed off of a high shelf.
And lest you think I leave this child unattended, let me assure you this is not the case. The last time he got a hold of a Sharpie, I had been following him around all morning. My husband has asked me to do all the transferring of utilities from the old house to the new, and I was making phone calls. I kept a note pad with me so I could be mobile and kept following my son as I made my calls. I'd go downstairs and dial and he'd immediately go upstairs. I'd follow him up as the phone was ringing and he'd turn around and go down. This went on for awhile until I got in the middle of a conversation with the cable company and realized after two minutes I my son was on the opposite floor again. I followed and found that he had pulled the Sharpies from the shelf (I think he stood on a box to get to them) tore open the package and got to work. He hit the couch, the kitchen floor, two tables and himself before I stopped the madness. Fortunately I got there before the ink was dry and managed to prevent any permanent damage. Thank God my husband wasn't home. The neighbors would have turned us in for sure.
But this is what it's like every day. I'm so tired I can't stand it. Between my family chaos and my son I need a sedative-- but I'm afraid I'd like the happy pills too much, so I'll stay away thank-you-very-much.
But what the heck do I do with a kid on testosterone overload? Seriously. Ideas?
Sunday, September 23, 2007
What Do I Look Like? A Mom?
My little dude (3 years old) woke up with a fever this morning. Actually, he woke up at about 1:30am and proceeded to whine the rest of the night. Ugh.
The thing is, I don't really know what to do when my kids are like this. Mostly, I'm just glad they're not throwing up.
My son, bless his heart, is going through a mommy stage too. If any of you have been through this before, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. If we go out in public, he must be carried by mommy. Mommy must be the one to hold his hand, etc. etc. So of course, since he is sick during his mommy phase, he only wants mommy to comfort him.
On one level, this is great. We all want our little monsters to love us right? But on the other hand it's also exhausting. I find myself saying don't you want daddy to hold you? a lot these days.
So, today my son has spent the whole day lying in my bed in a kind of lethargic stupor. My husband, myself and my daughter have taken turns keeping him company but he keeps kicking everyone out and demanding that I go back and lay with him. Sweet, but kind of boring after 4 hours of Power Rangers.
I really, really hope he feels better tomorrow.
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