Saintly Babysitter is looking for another job. I just can't pay her enough. She deserves all that she's requesting, but I can't do it. So it looks like after four years, she'll be leaving. Who knows when that will happen, and I have back up child care, and DG is now in preschool, but still. This makes me sad.
Sadder than any breakup of a romance. This is actually important and will affect my life (and obviously, my daughters' lives). I'm feeling slightly heartbroken here.
Nonetheless, next year, both girls will be in school full-time and it only makes sense that Saintly Babysitter move on before then.
TG has chess club, environmental club, karate lessons, and an after school activity to be named later (probably next week) keeping her at school until 4:30 two to three days a week. DG goes to preschool (for three hours a day) four days a week. The hours Saintly Babysitter works are shrinking and I'm not able to pay her the same amount I did last year as all these extra activities cost more and transportation for DG also costs a bit.
I don't like this, but it's reality.
On the more cheering note, my meeting with the G&T advisor at TG's school included her showing me TG's scores (from 2nd grade, three years ago, mind you). At seven and a half, TG scored a 51 on the Raven Progressive whatever test (this means something to somebody), and all the other G&T kids scored in the 40s. The teacher told me that any adult would be very pleased to get a 49 or 50 on the Raven, so a seven and a half year old getting a 51 is pretty amazing. She wouldn't give me percentiles for that, or the reading and math tests (but her score was the highest in her grade for each test she took). I just hope that losing the security of her babysitter doesn't cause some sort of slump (it won't, but I still worry).
DG did a running hug and a ballet hug for me in front of the woman who drives her to preschool. She was pretty amused. Then DG gave her a ballet hug. It was cute, but I felt a smidge, er, jealous. I need to get over that. It's wonderful that DG is affectionate and is happy and trustful with the people who take care of her during the day. She also kissed all her preschool teachers (high school students in a child care class, several of whom she already knows).
At skate night, DG followed around after a group of second graders who were actively trying to avoid her -- they were too cool to hang out with a preschooler -- but didn't seem to notice. "I need to find my fwiends." She would state this and set out off after the girls fleeing her presence. She's not easily thwarted.
Tomorrow, I'm off to my vaccine research study, and in October, I'll start a sleep and weight study that looks interesting (and reasonably remunerative). It beats committee work, that's for darn sure. And I have to start preparing my class on Moses and the Ten Commandments.
September 30, 2009
September 23, 2009
MOTY* Award
A woman who's helping TG get to and from chess class after school (these things really aren't designed with children of parents who are out earning money in mind) asked me if I had had TG tested to see if she were G&T.**
I don't need a stranger running tests to tell you that my ten-year old is scary-smart. Nonetheless, I worried. What I am doing living in overpriced upscale-yuppie-strivers-paradise, which I can't really afford but is worth the extra costs I can't afford because of the good schools, if I'm not shoving every opportunity for academic enrichment down my child's throat, in a totally nurturing and not at all stage-mama kind of way?
I emailed the school counselor, who, it turns out doesn't to G&T, but referred me to the correct person. I emailed her, and asked if I could have TG tested for G&T (hey, it's an acronym!). She responded that TG was tested back in 2006 and definitely was G&T. Obviously, in the midst of the divorce, I lost that key piece of information. Bad me.
So tomorrow, I'm meeting with the G&T teacher, who sadly won't be serving me G&Ts, to discuss my eldest's impending middle school career. I'm in complete control here.
Fortunately, I had taken tomorrow off for (1) DG's preschool open house/orientation (these preschools are complex enough that orientation is necessary), and (2) a follow-up appointment with the estimable Dr. Falk to cure myself of the Bubonic Plague or possibly nasty-irritating-and-like-a-bad-guest-just-won't-fucking-leave-sinus-infection. Fortunately, the teacher's free time coincided with mine. So tomorrow's busy.
So's Saturday: National's game + skating night. So's Sunday: Sunday school + Innana's birthday festivities. No rest for the wicked, certainly. Next weekend I'll rest. And clean. Etc.
*Mother of the Year. Please don't comment if you don't get the irony.
**Gifted and Talented, not a tasty Gin & Tonic, which is the only G&T I knew, prior to this conversation.
I don't need a stranger running tests to tell you that my ten-year old is scary-smart. Nonetheless, I worried. What I am doing living in overpriced upscale-yuppie-strivers-paradise, which I can't really afford but is worth the extra costs I can't afford because of the good schools, if I'm not shoving every opportunity for academic enrichment down my child's throat, in a totally nurturing and not at all stage-mama kind of way?
I emailed the school counselor, who, it turns out doesn't to G&T, but referred me to the correct person. I emailed her, and asked if I could have TG tested for G&T (hey, it's an acronym!). She responded that TG was tested back in 2006 and definitely was G&T. Obviously, in the midst of the divorce, I lost that key piece of information. Bad me.
So tomorrow, I'm meeting with the G&T teacher, who sadly won't be serving me G&Ts, to discuss my eldest's impending middle school career. I'm in complete control here.
Fortunately, I had taken tomorrow off for (1) DG's preschool open house/orientation (these preschools are complex enough that orientation is necessary), and (2) a follow-up appointment with the estimable Dr. Falk to cure myself of the Bubonic Plague or possibly nasty-irritating-and-like-a-bad-guest-just-won't-fucking-leave-sinus-infection. Fortunately, the teacher's free time coincided with mine. So tomorrow's busy.
So's Saturday: National's game + skating night. So's Sunday: Sunday school + Innana's birthday festivities. No rest for the wicked, certainly. Next weekend I'll rest. And clean. Etc.
*Mother of the Year. Please don't comment if you don't get the irony.
**Gifted and Talented, not a tasty Gin & Tonic, which is the only G&T I knew, prior to this conversation.
September 22, 2009
Easy Times Are Hard for Me
I get a lot less done when there isn't a crisis, but I'm trying to improve that tendency. I don't want to only get a lot done when disaster looms. Part of it is ADHD, part of it is that I have had enough real trouble in my life that I just don't react to anything that doesn't truly threaten my physical, mental, or fiscal well-being (or that of my children).
So: I stall for a month on going to the doctor for a common cold with a sinus infection. No, it never went away. Yes, I am going to have to get stronger antibiotics: the ones I'm taking have improved things, but I've still got a sinus thing going on. It almost makes me long for the good old days of uvulitis (when your airway's blocked and you aren't breathing, you don't have that annoying congested feeling behind your nose, at least). Is there a sinus removal procedure? Or should I just self-decapitate? Actually, I'm doing much better, but five days into the antibiotics, I'm still improving, not better.
I stall on writing, I don't get my flat cleaned, I avoid most non-kid social events and obligations. Fortunately, Innana's birthday is coming up and I plan to celebrate with Innana, SNV and EMF. That'll be fun.
But things are easier now, but that means my insomnia is gone, and so is the free time (from about 0100 to 0400 hours) in which I was planning to write the great American novel. Whoops.
Meanwhile, Uber is giving me baseball tickets, I've got a skate night with the girls planned, there's a movie the girls want to see, there's chess club, there's karate, and I haven't played either of my guitars in a few months. I'm thinking of the fingering for Friend of the Devil, and I think I don't remember it any more.
Tomorrow night, no matter what: the kids are with PdeFF and I'm writing some, I'm reading some, and I'm playing the guitar. No matter what. Cleaning the house? That's not a crisis, believe me.
So: I stall for a month on going to the doctor for a common cold with a sinus infection. No, it never went away. Yes, I am going to have to get stronger antibiotics: the ones I'm taking have improved things, but I've still got a sinus thing going on. It almost makes me long for the good old days of uvulitis (when your airway's blocked and you aren't breathing, you don't have that annoying congested feeling behind your nose, at least). Is there a sinus removal procedure? Or should I just self-decapitate? Actually, I'm doing much better, but five days into the antibiotics, I'm still improving, not better.
I stall on writing, I don't get my flat cleaned, I avoid most non-kid social events and obligations. Fortunately, Innana's birthday is coming up and I plan to celebrate with Innana, SNV and EMF. That'll be fun.
But things are easier now, but that means my insomnia is gone, and so is the free time (from about 0100 to 0400 hours) in which I was planning to write the great American novel. Whoops.
Meanwhile, Uber is giving me baseball tickets, I've got a skate night with the girls planned, there's a movie the girls want to see, there's chess club, there's karate, and I haven't played either of my guitars in a few months. I'm thinking of the fingering for Friend of the Devil, and I think I don't remember it any more.
Tomorrow night, no matter what: the kids are with PdeFF and I'm writing some, I'm reading some, and I'm playing the guitar. No matter what. Cleaning the house? That's not a crisis, believe me.
September 18, 2009
Subway Shocker, Illness, and the Insane Ex Rides Again
Metro
Color me shocked and pleased: a man asked me whether it was okay for him to sit in the seat he had chosen on the Metro. It was across from, and identical to, the handicapped labelled seats. I told him that yes, it was okay to sit there, but if someone with crutches got on, he needed to hop up and offer the seat.
"I don't want people to think I'm inconsiderate." he said. I responded that the very fact that he worried about it and asked the question pretty much guaranteed that he wouldn't be inconsiderate. Who knew? He must be from someplace else.
Illness and Overwork
Despite having lots of things I want to write about, I've been working my job, doing volunteer work, doing freelance work, and preparing for Sunday School (I am a religious parent's worst nightmare, that's for darn sure). In addition to that, I've had a lingering cough, sinus infection, and bronchial brouhaha since August 14. So I finally got off my backside and went to see the estimable Dr. Falk, who saw me the same day I called, didn't give me a hard time, gave me an inhaler, and some nice generic antibiotics.
Okay, next time I have sinusitis and something like bronchitis, I won't wait a month to call the doctor. Thirty hours after seeing Dr. Falk, and I'm realizing how under the weather I had been feeling: even though I still feel rather crappy, compared to what I had felt like, I feel great. I can't afford to get so run down I'm falling asleep at 9 p.m. on the couch with work sitting open before me.
Insane Ex
PdeFF and I generally deal with each other pretty well now, mainly because I manage most communications by email. But every once in a while he does something to remind me how happy I am to have divorced him and how much better my life is within him in it. I know that sounds mean-spirited, but really, I didn't want to divorce, but I had to to have peace of mind (not to mention regain financial control).
PdeFF has gotten it into his head that TigerGrrl should have more friends: more girl friends. TigerGrrl has tons of friends (or followers). They are mainly boys. PdeFF has ordered the Saintly Babysitter not to let TG out to play with the boys, but to make her play with girls.
Now, for those of you who aren't familiar with my eldest, TG doesn't wear dresses, never wanted to be a princess -- always declared she was the King, doesn't particularly care if things are pretty, NEVER wants to be girly or feminine, and is almost a black belt in karate. If PdeFF wants a girly girl, DestructoGirl can do that, while wrecking whatever piece of furniture she's sitting on. Don't ask me why. TG doesn't do girly. And she's perfect that way -- that's just who she is. She's a tennis playing, karate kicking, book reading, bossy, non-girly ten-year old. Try to get her into a dress. Try to get her to play with dolls. Just not when I'm around, 'kay?
The thing that really blows me away about this new ukase of PdeFF is the futility of it, and the fact that it's totally unnecessary. TG is who she is, she's fine that way, and she's not changing. And if he wants a girl who plays with dolls (okay, so she decapitates them some of the time, but there's nothing wrong with that, is there?), he has DG to do that. So why do something that will just make his kid miserable.
Fortunately, Saintly Babysitter listed to his diktat and then asked me when I got home, if she had to keep TG away from ALL her friends. I said no. After all, PdeFF isn't paying for the child care, I am. So he really doesn't have much authority. Funny, he only gave this order to SB, not to me or to TG. So he has not completely lost touch with reality.
Next, he'll buy TG some sort of ruffly dress thing for her birthday or something.
Color me shocked and pleased: a man asked me whether it was okay for him to sit in the seat he had chosen on the Metro. It was across from, and identical to, the handicapped labelled seats. I told him that yes, it was okay to sit there, but if someone with crutches got on, he needed to hop up and offer the seat.
"I don't want people to think I'm inconsiderate." he said. I responded that the very fact that he worried about it and asked the question pretty much guaranteed that he wouldn't be inconsiderate. Who knew? He must be from someplace else.
Illness and Overwork
Despite having lots of things I want to write about, I've been working my job, doing volunteer work, doing freelance work, and preparing for Sunday School (I am a religious parent's worst nightmare, that's for darn sure). In addition to that, I've had a lingering cough, sinus infection, and bronchial brouhaha since August 14. So I finally got off my backside and went to see the estimable Dr. Falk, who saw me the same day I called, didn't give me a hard time, gave me an inhaler, and some nice generic antibiotics.
Okay, next time I have sinusitis and something like bronchitis, I won't wait a month to call the doctor. Thirty hours after seeing Dr. Falk, and I'm realizing how under the weather I had been feeling: even though I still feel rather crappy, compared to what I had felt like, I feel great. I can't afford to get so run down I'm falling asleep at 9 p.m. on the couch with work sitting open before me.
Insane Ex
PdeFF and I generally deal with each other pretty well now, mainly because I manage most communications by email. But every once in a while he does something to remind me how happy I am to have divorced him and how much better my life is within him in it. I know that sounds mean-spirited, but really, I didn't want to divorce, but I had to to have peace of mind (not to mention regain financial control).
PdeFF has gotten it into his head that TigerGrrl should have more friends: more girl friends. TigerGrrl has tons of friends (or followers). They are mainly boys. PdeFF has ordered the Saintly Babysitter not to let TG out to play with the boys, but to make her play with girls.
Now, for those of you who aren't familiar with my eldest, TG doesn't wear dresses, never wanted to be a princess -- always declared she was the King, doesn't particularly care if things are pretty, NEVER wants to be girly or feminine, and is almost a black belt in karate. If PdeFF wants a girly girl, DestructoGirl can do that, while wrecking whatever piece of furniture she's sitting on. Don't ask me why. TG doesn't do girly. And she's perfect that way -- that's just who she is. She's a tennis playing, karate kicking, book reading, bossy, non-girly ten-year old. Try to get her into a dress. Try to get her to play with dolls. Just not when I'm around, 'kay?
The thing that really blows me away about this new ukase of PdeFF is the futility of it, and the fact that it's totally unnecessary. TG is who she is, she's fine that way, and she's not changing. And if he wants a girl who plays with dolls (okay, so she decapitates them some of the time, but there's nothing wrong with that, is there?), he has DG to do that. So why do something that will just make his kid miserable.
Fortunately, Saintly Babysitter listed to his diktat and then asked me when I got home, if she had to keep TG away from ALL her friends. I said no. After all, PdeFF isn't paying for the child care, I am. So he really doesn't have much authority. Funny, he only gave this order to SB, not to me or to TG. So he has not completely lost touch with reality.
Next, he'll buy TG some sort of ruffly dress thing for her birthday or something.
September 12, 2009
Bible Stories
I'm preparing for my first Bible study class. Regular readers (all fourteen of you) may remember that this is NOT a religious this-is-the-inerrant-word-of-a-deity Bible study class, but a class of the myths and stories of our culture as related in the Bible. When preparing for teaching ten and eleven year-olds, it's tought.
Really, Abraham and Isaac, where a father is ready to kill his son because his god tells him to do so? When Andrea Yates tried that, the voices weren't really god, were they. They never are. I have no idea how to present this to kids so they don't run screaming from the room. Except, since they're ten and eleven, the idea of murderous parents will probably just seem like another scary movie.
Joseph being sold into slavery by his brothers? The seeking out all the babies to kill them? Visiting plagues on people to punish them or teach them a lesson? And then the mother of all the stories, the echo of Abraham being ready to sacrifice Isaac on god's say so, god actually killing off his child, in a rather worthy-of-Saw-or-Hostel way, to show how much we're loved by him.
Color me cynical and disbelieving, but anyone who tells me that they killed someone else (particularly his or her own offspring) to show how much they love me or someone else isn't really going to get anything from me other than an anonymous call to the police.
Any advice?
Really, Abraham and Isaac, where a father is ready to kill his son because his god tells him to do so? When Andrea Yates tried that, the voices weren't really god, were they. They never are. I have no idea how to present this to kids so they don't run screaming from the room. Except, since they're ten and eleven, the idea of murderous parents will probably just seem like another scary movie.
Joseph being sold into slavery by his brothers? The seeking out all the babies to kill them? Visiting plagues on people to punish them or teach them a lesson? And then the mother of all the stories, the echo of Abraham being ready to sacrifice Isaac on god's say so, god actually killing off his child, in a rather worthy-of-Saw-or-Hostel way, to show how much we're loved by him.
Color me cynical and disbelieving, but anyone who tells me that they killed someone else (particularly his or her own offspring) to show how much they love me or someone else isn't really going to get anything from me other than an anonymous call to the police.
Any advice?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
