What Would Lasagna Be Without It?

I decided yesterday that I was going to go grocery shopping today and buy the few things I needed to make lasagna while Sophia was at the neighbor’s house. I wrote a list out of the few ingredients that I was missing from the pantry and made my way through the store crossing things off the list as I picked them up. Once home I of course put everything away. I calculated the time I would need to cook things up, assemble, and bake and began at a time that would have us eating at a reasonable dinner hour. It wasn’t until I reached the assembly part of the process that I realized I was missing one rather key ingredient specific to lasagna…The fuckin’ lasagna noodles!

lasagna noodles

I called in my request for Kurt to run to the store. He laughed and said, “Wow talk about pregnancy brain.” Yeah, yeah I know. It would have made me feel so much better if when he arrived home and handed me the noodles he had asked, “So what’s for dinner?” However, that didn’t happen.

 November, 30 posts in 30 days nablopomo.com

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Bataan Toddler Death March

I enrolled Sophia in a week-long, day camp especially for kids with developmental delays and their siblings. Last week was her week to go. The night before her first day, I tucked her into bed and told her about the camp she was going to go to, and all the things they might do at camp. I left out the part about her doing all these things with someone other than mom or dad. The day of, I spent the morning telling her about camp. That day was probably not a good day to start something new for Sophia. She was having one of those days, which I call a “mellow” day. It’s the sort of day where she spends most of her time curled up with “friend”. One of those days in which, if we’re out in public, I receive many comments like, “Oh she looks tired.” or, “Oh she must have just woken up.” Nope, that’s just the way my kid is sometimes. I know most people think, “You’re so lucky to have days like that.” What they don’t realize is that on those days I get more tantrums because those are the same days in which she refuses to talk or even sign. So those people can take their “calm kid” envy and shove it up their collective asses, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Really.

Sophia and I went grocery shopping at our usual chain but a different location than normal, and she calmly sat in the cart with “friend” sucking her thumb. This is not the norm for her. Sitting in a regular cart calmly is not her bag these days and hasn’t been for quite some time now. With groceries in the trunk of the car, I took her to her first day of camp.

When Sophia saw her usual park, she was happy and wanted to go play. I told her I had to use the bathroom first so we went and I made sure she went too because I knew that she was not going to talk or sign the entire day at camp and would probably wind up having an accident. By the time we were done it was time to line up to sign her in so I got her bag and she grabbed “friend”. She hung onto us both for dear life realizing that we were lining up with the crowd. Sophia was swept away by her designated camp buddy. I finished the required paperwork and looked over to where her group was trying to cheer her up. This day was not going to go well at all.

I went home and put the groceries away then spent the next couple of hours looking at the clock every five minutes. Three hours after the toddler drop off; I arrived about fifteen minutes prior to pick up time. I watched from the car as the kids were marched into the building and spotted Sophia. If one only focused on the face of my child, the whole thing would look like a Bataan toddler death march. At precisely four in the afternoon, the parents were allowed to go in and pick up their kids. Sophia spotted me from across the room but aside from wanting to get to me her demeanor didn’t change. Once I reached her, she literally climbed up me. Her buddy said, “It was rough at first, but she had fun after a while.” Sure she did. I knew it going in that the first day would be bad. It always is with Sophia. It’s tough to watch her go through this, but she needs it…badly.

Every parent gets a note for each child about what he or she did and how the day went. It’s rather form like so that nothing is forgotten.

Monday:
Today…
I made a…Pin wheel
I ate a…(this was left blank and Sophia hadn’t eaten since breakfast)
I liked…playing in the preschool room

My day was… (in this part of the form the buddy circles one of three choices: fabulous, good, ok) Sophia’s buddy circled fabulous. Really?

Under comments she wrote, “She had a great 1st day at camp! Monday’s always the toughest! We had a lot of fun in the pool watching others jump off diving board.”

I snapped a picture of Sophia immediately after getting her into the car. I think her look speaks volumes as to how she really felt about her day. Sophia didn’t say a word on the way home, neither a sound nor even a peep. When Kurt saw the picture he said, “She cried the whole time, didn’t she?” I’m guessing at least two hours of it, yes.

After her first day at camp

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Visiting hours at the mental hospital

Brainy baby is plotting against me. I think she’s determined to drive me crazy. She doesn’t talk, but I’m sure she can read and her preferred material seems to be my blog. Crafty baby must have read my post about being clingy because for the past two days has done a total 180.

Tuesday was only different in that I had the TV on in the morning while I got ready for swimming and fed Sophia. I saw the fanfare and listened to the commentary leading up to the event and then Sophia and I left for her swim class. I didn’t get to watch the inauguration as it happened, but that’s ok. I know that even though Chief Justice John Roberts, who should know the constitution backwards, forewords, and upside-down, royally screwed up the presidential oath, Barack Hussein Obama is our rightful president. I can’t say the same for the two terms of the previous presidential squatter. But I digress.

Sophia and I went swimming as usual. She did a lot more kicking than normal and wore herself out. She fell asleep on our way from swimming to Target to pick up some different new sippy cups. Yep, I finally gave up trying to get her to use the AVENT sippy cups and sent those away to a second hand store. I took sleepy head out of her car seat and sat her in the cart sideways all reclined. I though she was still asleep under all her hair but I guess she was just slowly waking up. Either way it was a pleasant Target trip. I bought two Playtex Sipster Spill-Proof cups and one Playtex Coolster Tumbler. She’s not old enough for the Coolster yet, but I can see it being useful in the future.

Towards the end of the shopping trip she became her more normal self, and by that I don’t mean that I needed to carry her like a football as she screamed up and down the isles. A normal trip consists of her pushing the cart herself while holding my purse at her insistence. Please don’t send her any “born to shop” t-shirts. I will burn them. I’m not joking.

I don’t mind her pushing the cart at all. I hang onto the handle to direct and she happily pushes it all over the place. The part that I do mind is that I can’t find a break leaver on the child. I wind up passing the item I’m looking for, rounding the corner, and passing it a second time this time catching the price. If I like the price, we make a third pass where I snatch the item and stealthily lob it into the cart. It’s a good thing I go in knowing what I want because if I had to comparison shop this way I think I’d go quite mad. It literally makes the trip last three times longer than it needs to be, but it wears the child out and that makes me happy. It all boils down to me and my happiness. I’m a selfish bastard.

The ten-minute catnap in the car was enough to throw the whole nap routine off so we ate lunch, read books, and practiced the alphabet and numbers. She finally went down at three and didn’t wake up until Kurt got home. Use of the new tippy cup went well except that she doesn’t tilt her head enough to finish it all. And as usual, there was some crying and lamenting by the child while she was baby-gated out of the kitchen so I could cook. After diner, I sat on the chair in front of the TV and watched Kurtie play with Sophia. She started getting fussing and crying about something and reached out for me, so Kurt lifted her towards my lap. I glared at him, “why, so she stops crying?” OHMYGOD it’s not *just* me! He bowed his head, “oh, you’re right.”

Sophia hasn’t been fussy since, seriously! On Wednesday I went grocery shopping, which by the way does not entail letting the child push the cart. Grocery shopping involves letting the child hold limes, apples, or other fruit or vegetable or canned food that she cannot destroy. It’s our system and it works. Don’t fuck with the system.

After shopping and checking the mail we head home where I put her and as much as I can carry in one trip into the house. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” I grab the other bags from the car. I return expecting a red face and crocodile tears. Nope, she was just fine. Later I corralled her upstairs while I made trip trips three million trips up and down doing laundry. Not a problem. She was also fine in the evening while I cooked, a first in I don’t know how long.

Thursday was a day of many advances and much cuteness. I made oatmeal for breakfast before swimming and blew on it to cool it off for Sophia. I looked up to see that she was copying me and blowing as well. I sent a spoonful in her direction, “blow” I told her, and she did before taking a bite.

After breakfast I put her in her jacket and told her to wait while I went to start the car so it could warm up. I came back to perfectly content child.

In the swimming locker room, she waved hello to the kids and parents that we see most often, as opposed to the ones that seem to only show up on the first and last sessions. She also let the swim instructor hold her for a moment without making any contorted, “Where’s my mommy” faces. He only ever holds the kids for a second then passes them back to their parent. This time it was like she knew that. On the way out, she waved good-bye to her latest crush, a two and a half year-old boy with huge blueberry eyes.

At dinner I gave her a little of everything we were having including some guacamole, which she ate by taking little pinches and sucking it off her fingers. She waved to get my attention. I asked her what she wanted and she did the sign for more, correctly.

After dinner I went up to our room to read while Kurt played on my computer and Sophia entertained herself by arraigning some board books that come in their own case. She actually entertained herself even though I was within her view but not on the floor with her. Amazing!

Have you ever had a problem with something like a computer and everyone tries everything known to fix the problem but nothing works. Then one day you decide to see if it works and it does. People ask, “What did you do?” I just did what I tried before, but this time it worked. I don’t get it, and thinking about it is going to cause me to need the number of an insane asylum. It’s all part of her master plan isn’t it?

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Little grabby hands

Yesterday was grocery shopping day and little miss grabby hands kept reaching out for EVERYTHING at the check out line. I had all the groceries on the little conveyor belt and as I pushed the cart closer to the cashier Sophia leaned over and pulled some stuff off the belt and held it up for me to see like, “look mom I got your stuff back.” Thankfully, it was my stuff and not the stuff from the person in front or behind me. Ok hun, put it back. Here play with my purse. I get to the front of the line, next to the cashier, right where the credit card reader thing is placed. I never realized what a stupid place it is for that thing. I swipe my “rewards” card and hand it to grabby. Nope, she didn’t want it. She wants to hit the “Ok” key on the card reader…REPEATEDLY. Seriously, it’s a good thing I was paying attention to the cashiers screen or I would have no idea what amount I had agreed to pay. *glaring at child*

I got home and juggled the child, diaper bag, grocery bags, toys, and my purse into the house. Still holding the child, I placed the grocery bags on the counter right over the dishwasher. The door to the dishwasher is slightly open. This is the sign in our household that the dishes in there are actually clean but someone is too damn lazy hasn’t had a chance to put them away. For some reason I keep forgetting my child has arms with hands at the end which come fully equipped with thumbs. Damn my little monkey for having opposable thumbs! She grabbed one of the grocery bags that I just set on the counter without me noticing, and pulled it off. It landed on the door of the dishwasher causing it to tumble over, and dump everything onto our ceramic tiled floor. All I can say is I am so glad that it wasn’t the bag with glass jars in it! I bought maple syrup – that could have been very ugly! Tasty, but ugly.

I realize she doesn’t need thumbs to do the grabby hands thing, but I thought I’d give them (her thumbs) a good preemptive damning. I’m sure the day will come when my thumb damning will be justified.

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