Why is it that I have total solid food amnesia?
“The one thing so far that’s really thrown me for a loop is starting the little bub-jub on solid foods. I cannot for the life of me remember what I’m supposed to do.”
Archives for March 2010
Name-Calling
I could hear their bickering from upstairs and tried to ignore them. Soon it spilled out into the hall and shortly Laylee was at my side with her arms folded.
“Mom! Magoo’s being so mean to me.”
“Yeah?” I asked, with a bored tone to my voice.
“Mo-om. He’s being so mean, like really really mean,” she continued, visibly distressed.
“What did he do?”
“He was calling me ‘Laylee Middle Name Thompson’!”
NO! He dared to call you by your NAME!? Like your full NAME!? That I gave you!?
I’m trying to think of a punishment for that particular crime. I’ve got nothing. I could call him by his full name but that doesn’t escalate things at all and I’m all about escalation. Maybe I could also start referring to all of his body parts by their correct biological names, his fingers becoming phalanges, his jaw becoming a mandible. I don’t know though. It’s just so MEAN…this proper name-calling.
Yes… And
Last weekend, I took a young woman friend of mine into Seattle to have lunch with Nintendo, that nebulous Mario-ridden empire of a company, some women and girls doing amazing mentoring work in the community, and stylist Jennifer Rade. It was a fun mix of people talking about goals, games, fashion and eating chocolate calzones. We had a blast.
As part of their promotion for their Style Savvy game for the DS, Nintendo asked Jen, who does not want to be pigeonholed as a celebrity stylist although she’s dressed Angelina Jolie and pretty much every famous person for pretty much every event known to man, to come and speak about her journey in the fashion industry.
They invited Powerful Voices, a Seattle-based group that mentors young girls, to come hear her speak and eat some great food at a pizza restaurant (I try to avoid using the term Pizzeria because of what it rhymes with.) that was transported all the way from Italy. They actually took apart an Italian pizza joint, shoved the pieces in a storage container, shipped them here and reassembled them. When I told Dan about the place, he laughed and asked why they had to bring the actual restaurant here. I told him that they brought it here so I didn’t have to go to Italy and leave him alone with the kids for 2 days while I went out for lunch.
Jen was fascinating to listen to. Her life path and mine are so completely different and she had so many great stories and experiences to share. She really has worked with everyone and done just about everything a costume designer/stylist can do.
I often worry about being pigeonholed in my fledgling writing career. Kathryn Thompson, the blogger, Kathryn Thompson, the children’s author, Kathryn Thompson, the non-fiction writer. This fear keeps me from branching out because I worry that if I find big success in one genre, I’ll have a hard time being taken seriously in another and I have a wide range of interests.
Jen is a testament to the power of hard work and never taking no for an answer. When people tell her she can’t do something, she just sees it as a challenge and works to prove them wrong. I really liked that, along with her down-to-earth nature. She also has a theory that I love and that has served me well in my life, although I’ve never given a name to it. She calls it “Yes… and.”
The basic idea is that when someone asks you if you can do something, you respond with, “Yes… and,” and then blow them away with all you’re capable of, opening up all kinds of doors for future success. I totally agree. Doing the bare minimum and hoping to be noticed will not get you very far in your career or in life. Next time you’re looking for some growth and adventure, try responding with a, “Yes…and,” and see what happens.
As part of the celebration for Powerful Voices, my favorite Nintendo executives and PR people surprised each attendee with her own DSi and a copy of Style Savvy. My date and I got one too. Yippee! I have to tell you that I bought the DS with birthday money last year, thinking the DSi wasn’t worth the extra money but now that I have both, the DS is feeling a bit lame in comparison. I gave it to Dan and I’m feeling some serious jealousy coming from his direction.
Mine can surf the web, take and edit pictures, download games directly to the device, and best of all make little flip-notes animated videos. I love this because it’s a way to feed my kids’ digital addictions while forcing them to be creative. And I was not expecting to ever play Style Savvy, having given up playing dress-up with Barbies many moons ago. However, they had us try it out at the lunch and the game is stupidly addictive. I’ve never played Farmville but I’ve seen the hold it has on people and as far as I can tell, this game is like Farmville for fashion, except you don’t send out updates to all of your friends and family members every time you unlock something new so everyone doesn’t have to know just how much time I spend “building my business” and stocking my store.
Baby’s Getting Tattled On
How old is old enough to be tattled on? We found out last week. [Read more at Parenting.com.]
Meeting Maria
I stayed home from church today with a pathetic sickly Wanda. She’s got a snuffly nose, a cough, a rattle and a roll. She can’t sleep without a binky but she can’t breathe WITH a binky so we are at an impasse. There is a lot of crying and snarfling going on.
I’m just getting over something similar to what she has, although I looked a lot less cute when it was my turn so I tried to nap in between rescuing her from the suffocating bink and alternately calming her with it.
When I woke up from my nap, the kids were watching a movie, something we don’t do much of on Sundays and Dan and I decided it wasn’t a great Sabbath day movie choice. I’m not sure that there’s anything religiously wrong with Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus, although the male/female relations are somewhat of an archetypal muddle. I think we decided it wasn’t a great Sunday movie because it sucks.
So we let them watch a movie that does not suck. According to my Grandpa, who saw it around one hundred times in the theatre when it was released, it’s about the un-suckingest movie that has ever and will ever be made. The hills are alive with it. You guessed it. We watched The Sound of Music.
I cried when they sang about the problem with a certain young novitiate named Maria. I cried when she had confidence in sunshine. I bawled my eyes out when she taught the children how to verbalize Solfège and don’t get me started on Maria’s favorite things. It is too much. I love that movie. It’s in my blood.
I love it because it reminds me of how happy my childhood was, even though my sister made me be Rolf when we danced along with “Sixteen Going on Seventeen.” It was a charmed childhood. Tonight I proclaimed that when Dan and I dress up as Rolf and Liesel for Halloween, I get to be the girl, all pretty in pink and he can be the pre-Nazi messenger boy.
Laylee was enthralled, talking about what an amazing governess Maria was. As I child I liked Maria, but I don’t remember thinking she was all that amazing. Weren’t all moms kind of like that? She very much reminded me of my own mom but with shorter hair and a guitar.
The best comment of the night came when the nuns were singing about Maria at the beginning of the movie and Magoo sat with a disgusted look on his face and said, “Why do they just go on and ON and ON and ON about it?”
We stopped for bed just as the Von Trapp family singers were climbing trees, about 5 minutes pre-firing, about 7 minutes pre-Edelweiss, somewhere near 20 minutes pre-most-romantic-dance-scene-ever.
So far my kids think it’s a happy movie with lots of singing and too many nun parts. But wait. It gets better. Tomorrow we get to finish up with icky romantic love and Nazis. Maybe we should just watch the first half again.
P.S. “Favorite Things” is still not a Christmas song.
Socks and Simplicity
“I found that I spent the first several months of her life carefully matching the socks after each washing, holding them up to the light, analyzing color, weave, texture, cuff, stretchiness, length and width. I was playing laundry Cupid, finding each little socky its one true and perfect sole-mate. The saying is true in our house. There is only one perfect match for everyone. ”
St. Patrick’s Day Non-Proliferation Treaty
Dear Parents and Leprechauns of the World,
Stop the madness! Today I am begging you, BEGGING. YOU. To stop this senseless St. Patty’s escalation and let the rest of us get back to our old traditions of making green pancakes and wearing a button that says, “Kiss Me! I’m Irish!”
Why are you all making it so hard for me to live up to the expectations of Leprechaun Mania? So a couple of years ago they turned the milk green. Now they’re leaving gifts, candy, new green clothes, actual pots of GOLD for the children???? When will it end?
Laylee comes home and tells me about all the insane gifts being enjoyed by her other friends on this day of days and wonders why the Leprechauns hate our family so much. Maybe it’s because I refuse to create one more holiday of needless, money-wasting, gift-giving insanity. Maybe it’s because I’m heartless. (I think it’s the first reason.)
I mean, come on. Pretty soon we’re gonna be doing scavenger hunts on Flag day where you have the chance of finding A NEW CAR – compliments of the flag fairy or kids will be expecting money under their pillows left on President’s Day Eve by the ghosts of their favorite dead presidents. If Benjamin Franklin thinks you’ve been good this year, you get a hundred. (Okay Rebecca! He wasn’t a president but he’s on money and I’m Canadian so what’re you gonna do?)
COME ON! Join me today in a holiday non-proliferation agreement. Do we need a magical gift-bearing mascot for every blinking day of the year? What about the Solstice Gnome or the Green Earth Day Gomer? Make it stop. Only you can help prevent my daughter bawling her brains out because even though she left out a long note and a monetary offering to the leprechauns, they left her nothing but some green milk in the fridge and today sucks – it sucks and it “doesn’t even feel like St. Patrick’s Day.”
“Maybe we need to make our own magic,” I suggested.
She’s not buying it… because all the other kids are going to show up to school with heavy-laden pack mules bearing their bounteous leprechaun harvest and I’m the one who pays the price.
Love, Sincerely,
-Kathryn
The Grinch Who Stole St. Patrick’s Day and is Proud of It
When I Grow Up
Magoo told me the other day that he wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up. Then he self-corrected and told me that no, he just wants to be a “regular dad” who stays home. He wants to be a “regular dad” the same way I’m a “regular mom.”
He also said he doesn’t want to be a grandpa either because grandpas have to move REALLY far away from home, so far that they have to drive all day and all night to get home. And also they die sometimes and he doesn’t want to die ever.
I guess Laylee’s not the only one thinking about grandparental death. I’m not afraid of it. My parents and Dan’s parents are not allowed to die. I am also swearing off death. I still need plenty of time to decide what I want to be when I grow up.
I’m thinking about becoming a professional student. Maybe I’ll be a high school or college teacher. I’ll definitely be writing for a living. Perhaps I’ll get a black belt in karate. What do you want to be when you grow up?
A Letter
Laylee’s been learning about letter writing at school. Here’s a transcription of a letter she recently wrote to her teacher:
Dear Miss Snop/Rachel,
I woke up early. It was 7:00. First I got dressed. Next, I looked at the clock. Then, I did my homework. Last, I played. Did you wake up early? What time did you wake up at? Do you know that I know that yar name is Rachel? Are yar perents dead yet? Can you come to my birthday party next year?
From,
Laylee
Dan thinks it’s funny that she’s come to think of her teacher as being so old and authoritative that it’s highly unlikely her parents are still living. I find it more amusing that she finds nothing insensitive about asking her about it straight out, followed by a birthday party invitation.
The juxtaposition suggests that she’s either trying to be sensitive – perhaps the party invite is a gesture of consolation in the event that the parents have passed away – or she is seven years old and the death of a parent and the event of a birthday party carry roughly the same level of importance in her eyes.
The Good
“Yes, I think there’s a lot to do to make quality education available and relevant to all children. Yes, I’m still trying to figure out what I can do to help. Today I’d like to focus on what’s going right. Have you or one of your children brushed shoulders with an inspiring educator?”