Max's Birthday

Today is Max's birthday. He's 8. I still can't really believe it. I was looking at his face, as he was falling asleep tonight - and this image of his ultra sound photo popped into my head! (Ok, well... in thinking about it I'm wondering how I know it's HIS ultrasound photo that popped in? Because. Let's be honest here... they all kinda look alike, don't they? Like don't you think the ultra sound technicians have a pile of photos they just give to the patients who come in for their scans? Just sayin'. But anyhow - he looked like A ultrasound picture, which somehow doesn't sound as nice and mushy and sentimental.)

Well, that's probably because I'm usually not so very mushy and sentimental. I can be nice. Although I've been told I'm not nice enough to be a flight attendant. I don't suffer fools gladly. And I don't have a poker face.

Oh. But wait. This was about MAX. It being his birthday and all... I mean, it's not like I worked really hard to give BIRTH to him or anything, is it?

Ok, ok. So he actually hit a home run today at his little league game, which was really cool. The team is really starting to come along - they ALL hit. The score was 19-4!!!

But here's the interesting part (you were waiting for this. I know.) I was there with X. Just us. (And Nathan, but he's always there... so....) And. It. Was. Ok. Normal. Calm. A bit strange.

We sat next to each other. We talked about the kids. We talked about books we had read, movies we had seen. We talked politics. Ok, when I went down to the snack bar & politely asked him if he wanted anything I did NOT expect him to say "sure, a hot dog." But if I didn't want to buy him anything I shouldn't have offered.

THEN, after we went out for a birthday dinner for Max. X didn't want to go at first. I told him I'd treat. He came. I wasn't sure if I should push it, given Max wanting us to move back in together... but I don't know... we were both there, it was his birthday... I felt like we should all be together.

By and large it worked. It's amazing how you fall back into those rhythms: the private jokes, the nicknames we had for relatives... it felt normal. But it wasn't.

I"m reading this book "Custody Chaos, Personal Peace: Sharing Custody with an Ex Who Drives you Crazy." and the author makes a point of reminding us that our Ex's are human. That we did, at one point see something in them... and that they are not perfect. (This is all part of his idea that if you don't let what happens with your Ex stress you out as much, then you have more control...) So this was good.

But still. Strange.

Stuff

Well, there are still people searching for "frustration boobs" on my blog. Hope this somehow eases their frustration.... (but I'm thinkin' probably not.)

To any of my "May Moms" friends who read this: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Can you believe our kids are going to be eight? Can you believe we've known each other for almost nine years?!?!? Anybody want to start planning the ten year reunion?

I told my boss I thought, in 20-20 hindsight.... that it was kind of mean of her to tell us six weeks out that one of us will lose our job the end of this month. She got a wee bit defensive.. but I had to. This is torture.

X called me. Said we have to start teaching Max some tact. When I asked why, he said the other day at Little League Max said, in his typical quiet, well modulated tone of voice: "I couldn't go to practice the other day, I had to go to the psychologist." He said the whole team heard. I started laughing when X told me this. I said well, maybe his generation will look at it differently. Not as much stigma. Remember when people used to whisper cancer? And let's not even get started about AIDS... But, I suppose I should talk to Max about some things being private... but I want to make sure to keep it in a way that does not make it anything bad/wrong/different.

When you stop and think about this parenting thing. I mean stop. Think. How we just do it... no rules, no flash cards, no umpire.... we just get thrown in there & do it... and it's so important. When I think about that I think... OK, it's important but then maybe if you think about it being too important then that makes you too self conscious... and just stop thinking about it and do it. So I stop thinking about it.

Nathan is a very nervous boy. It really started this past year, when he started kindergarten. He is so worried about doing something wrong (wonder where he got that from? Ref: above paragraph) But it almost throws him into a panic. He won't wear his denim jacket because the teacher wants them to button up & he can't button those buttons. So he WILL NOT wear it. It has to be something that zips. Or the teacher will get angry. Even if I say "but it's warmer now" or the little white lie: "I spoke to Ms G - she said it's OK." Nope.

The other day, when I was in the city and he was going to X's, he was nearly in tears. On Wednesdays Max goes to the aforementioned psychologist & the kids go right from the bus to the office. They do not take the stuff out of their back packs. Then they go from the psychologist to X's. He was crying to me "Mom, you have to see my notes. The teacher said we have to empty our folders every day! To show our work to our parents!" When I said he could show it to X, then he said "But Daddy puts the papers back into the folder and they get crinkled! The teacher will get upset if they're crinkled!" Omigod. That poor boy. So much pressures. (And this might read like it's sarcastic, but it's not. I mean it. Imagine have that many worries! At six!!)

So we came up with the solution that the babysitter will take the notes/papers out, take them home with HER and bring them back the next day. I'm not entirely sure what that means... since no parent will see them.. but maybe he feels like they're safe? Not crinkled?

I spoke to the Assistant principal at the school (who I lovelovelove!) and she suggested the guidance counselor. We'll see. I'm kind of cynical about guidance counselors... the ones I've dealt with have not been too much on the ball. But we'll see.

If not, I'm thinking Nathan might need the psychologist a wee bit more than Max.

And then I have to go back to thinking.... we only do what we can. We have no rule book.....

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Polish Holocaust hero dies at age 98 - Yahoo! News

Polish Holocaust hero dies at age 98 - Yahoo! News

Wow.

green throw up

You know... kids remember the important stuff... (Can't wait to show him this when he's 17!!)

Slideshow

These are ALL the photos from our weekend at Mohonk Lake House. It was. Amazing.

It would be nice if I could spell

See post below.

phtoso from the weekend (I took like 70...)

Let them be free.... but not TOO free..

So this past weekend, while we were away (oh, did I not mention that we were going away? I took J away for his birthday. He didn't want a party. It was a big birthday.... So. We were. AWAY. Did I mention that?)

ANYHOW.

We were talking about my kids & their growing up... and what to let them do on their own or not. Like J, when he crosses the street with Max will sometimes NOT hold his hand (will not think about this, will not think about this...) and ask Max when it's safe to cross. We talked about when it's safe for them to go to the bathroom in a restaurant on their own (I will take them to the ladies room with me, and they are starting to protest....) or play outside.

I feel like if it is Max and another 8 year old... then somethings are OK - but I don't think it's fair for Max to have to be responsible for his younger brother. Not at this age.

So, Monday night I was at Nathan's little league game. Nathan had team photos before & Max was just hanging out. They were taking the photos at the club house - around the corner from where the fields are.

Max came over & asked "Can I go over to Field 2, with Johnny, and play catch?" I kind of know Johnny & his mom. I went over to the mom - "What do you think?" She was really laid back... sure, no problem... he knows everybody there... So. I said. OK. BUT - I told him - he has to stay on field 2.

About a half hour later we headed over to the fields. I look on field two and guess who was NOT there? Right.

I look over at Field One. Nope. Walk up to three. Nope. Walk a bit faster up to Four. Nope. Kind of trot back down to Field Two. Feeling a little bit anxious... but not too bad. Ask a mother there "Have you seen Max?" Nope.

See Johnny's mom - she doesn't know where they are, either. Ok, so now I'm starting to get a wee bit more.... agitated. Then Johnny's brother yells: 'There they are!" On the bottom of Field One - just out of sight... there they were.

My melodious voice wafted down to Max.... could he please excuse himself from the game and come up to talk to me for a moment? (Translation: Max!!! Maxwell! You get yourself up here RIGHTTHISVERYMOMENTQUICKQUICKNOW!!!!)

I was angry. He explained that people came on the field, so they went to the other one. I told him I understood why - but that I told him to stay on Field Two - and if he had to leave he HAD TO TELL ME.

I made him stick with me the rest of the night & we talked about it again later. He got it. And really, it was ok - it was in a controlled environment & was (as much as I hate to use this term) a learning experience.

And you know, the whole time I just kept thinking "If he had a cell phone I could just call him!" But immediately chastised myself for even THINKING about getting an eight year old a cell phone!! Also, J always tells me that it's worse when they have the phones... because they never answer! Imagine how nerve wracking that is!!! Where is he?!? In a ditch?!? Why isn't he answering?!?! It's pretty much a no win.

Oh man. This letting them go thing.... At least I have the bubble wrap ready for once they start driving....
(It was foggy for the first day. We got a little.... lost on the grounds. Oops. I was actually cracking up - it was like something out of a bad horror movie: "Don't go that way! Don't go into the mist!!" But maybe you had to be there.)

These Kids....

Yesterday my sitter said to me:  "I have to tell you something - I didn't have time the other day... but I really have to."

Given my recent history with my sitter... my heart sank.

She began:  "The other day, when we came in to meet you and J in the city - before the Yankees Tigers game - we were on the train and Nathan did the most amazing thing."  Nathan?  Amazing thing?  Now I wasn't so anxious.

She continued.  "There weren't so many seats, so I told the boys to sit and I stood next to them.  Nathan said to me: "you have to sit down.  You can't stand.  I told him 'no, it's ok.' But he insisted.  'You sit down, I'll sit on your lap.'  So, I went to sit.  Then the other people on the train saw I was pregnant.  They were in shock, and obviously felt badly because they did not notice before.  But you have no idea what that did to me.  How it made me feel.  How he made me feel, insisting that I sit down..."

I was speechless.  MY Nathan?!?  My son who never seems to think about anybody but himself?  Who always asks:  "What do you have for me?"  "Why do *I* have to do that?"  "YOU, you do it FOR me!"  Now MAX - he's the one who is always thinking.  He is the one who has more empathy...  I was totally floored.

But you know what was the coolest part?  Things I say -- they sink in!!

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And so it begins...

X has been made a "consultant" so his salary will be about halved.  Starting his next pay check.  It's going to be fun.  He's telling me how he has to pay more for his insurance & business expenses... so that means he'll be contributing less.  I want to be fair... but you know, the expenses for the kids don't go down.  I have to get them their summer wardrobe...

PLUS - am I responsible for taking care of HIS needs?  Why does he think I am?!?!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Forwarded conversation
Subject: Re: Bi-Weekly Support '08
------------------------

From: X
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 7:10 PM
To:ME

Why am I stuck with all the income pressure.... Why can't your income help float the boat a bit. Why can't you have a job that helps your family before the public. You are selfish and the boys will understand it when they are older.
------Original Message------

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry----------
From: ME
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 7:16 PM
To:X

when you get a chance please let me know what your income is & how we are going to figure out these checks.  I'm figuring the proportion will be 60-40.

--
"
From:  X
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 7:21 PM
To: ME


I don't know what my income will be. I will be receiving checks equivalnet to $Xxxxxt will be subject to business expenses that will probably take that income to about $(8000 less). Then my income would factor out social security and new york city taxes to arrive at a figure.
----------
From: ME
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 7:24 PM
To: X


what do you mean business expenses?  the proportion is based on how much your take home pay is....

----------
From: X
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 7:27 PM
To:ME


I'm not a salaried employee and have to cover an array of costs.
 
----------
From: ME
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 7:29 PM
To: X


do you get the same amount in each pay check?--
----------
From: X
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 7:31 PM
To: ME


Yes, it is an official contract so I will fax you a copy.
 
From:ME
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 7:45 PM
To:X

ok - I'll send you my fax number tomorrow.   but if you have a set weekly/bi-weekly salary then that's what we work from.

--
----------
From X
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 7:57 PM
To: ME


It's monthly.
FYI: if the parisittes suck too much blood out of the host--the host dies and the parissities too.
 
----------
From ME
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 8:00 PM
To: X


ok - so we'll figure out how much that is bi-weekly & take it from there.--

----------
From: X
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 8:10 PM
To: ME


I'm a very fair guy, so don't push me too hard.
 
----------
From: ME
Date: Sun, May 4, 2008 at 8:30 PM
To: X


yes.  You are fair.  I just want to be able to understand & budget -- so I'll need to know how much you will be contributing.

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thanks max

My "gifted" children. :)

Who is this really about?

Errrr..... Yeah.  Don't really know.

The boys got their results back from the Gifted and Talented test.  They didn't make it.  Neither of my boys are gifted.  Or Talented.

According to the test.

I had been gearing myself for this for a while.  "Ahhh.... it's no big deal.  It's only a test.  If they *do* get in, I'm not even sure I want them to be in it - they'll be overwhelmed with homework... is that worth it at this young age?"  And so on.  You get the idea.

But we got the results back.  And neither made it to the 90th percentile. Not even to the 80th percentile.

(BLOG INTERRUPTION!  MOUSE!  HERE!  CUTE!  RUNNING!  CRAP!!!  OMIGOD! WHAT DO I DO?!?!?)

The crazy woman who lives in my building?  Her daughter is 89th percentile.  Nathan's friend?  He made it.  My boys?  Did not.

And I cannot at all tell you how awful I feel that way.  But you know what it's about?  It's about me not feeling like I did a good enough job as a parent.  It's not about them not being good/smart/gifted/talented enough... It's about me not sitting with them more.  Not reading with them enough.  Not doing flash cards.  Not making them practice  their writing over and over.  I feel like if I had done this... I'd have given them the chance to succeed... but because I come home & crash & the last thing I ever want to do is go over letters with them...

(DO YOU THINK I CAN CATCH IT WITH A TUPPERWARE CONTAINER?  THEN TOSS IT DOWN THE TRASH?)

Max is very glad he did not make it.  He does not want the extra homework.

I haven't told X yet.  I need to, but I'm not sure I want to deal with his reaction -- or how he'll react with the kids.  The thing with him is I never really know... He could be really "normal" or... not.

Oy.  Now off to find that mouse.

 

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Young at Heart chorus sings Road to Nowhere

Saw this movie last night. Absolutely cannot recommend it enough!!

Just errrr.... wondering...

"Frustration Boobs"

I have had about 10 people find my blog through that Google search.

Is that the name of a new tv show? Band? Book? Are that many women frustrated with their boobs? And if so, why not write the search "Frustrated With Boobs"? Or "Boob Frustration."

Really.

Just wondering.

Oh, this body of mine...

This has been floating around in my mind for a week or so... so I figure I gotta process it.

In the past six months or so I've put on about.. oh... 7 pounds. Which in and of itself is not so bad... but on top of the oh... 7 pounds or so I already had to loose -- and the fact that I'm pretty small... well. It's a lot. For me. None of my clothes fit. I'm wearing the same outfits all the time. I'm not happy.

But here's the thing. The other day I caught myself. Naked. In the mirror. I have not looked at myself naked in a while. I just have not wanted to. And I saw myself. And I stopped. And I was like: "Hey, that looks like one of those Renaissance nudes. This body... it looks... beautiful." And I quickly stepped away. And I went back. And looked again. And reaffirmed.

You know.. it's not at all skinny... it's like... voluptuous - a little stomach, hips, big thighs.... No rolls or anything.. not "obese" and actually a bit of muscle tone. (And not that there's anything wrong with either of these... rolls, being obese... I'm just kinda trying to process what I thought I looked like in my mind... and the reality of it...) It was not a nude that you see in magazines... but it was a classic nude body.

so I'm taking this information and trying to figure this whole thing out. Why can't I just be happy with that? Why am I so miserable every time I try something on? And WHY am I freaking out about the idea of a bathing suit this summer!

It's funny (not funny ha-ha - but funny weird, strange, upsetting) how society sets this standard of how we're supposed to look in clothes. And here in NYC -- how people dress up & dress high fashion. Most people. Or have that "hip" way of dressing, with the tight t-shirts & the jeans...

I could wear a tight t-shirt - but my stomach would stick out. Why is that bad? It's not a bad stomach? Why do I get so upset when I see it sticking out? Why do I end up wearing bigger clothes, that hide everything? Why do I want to wear a tight t-shirt if it's not the look for me?

Ugh. I have no answers to this. And of course I've started another month of nutri-system. Last time was a bust -- with Max's stomach aches & my comfort eating... With this peri-menopause setting in (and I have to believe that's what this is...) my metabolism is SHOT. S.H.O.T. I've never been like this before, I"m usually able to loose pretty quickly.... but not this time. I'm thinking of investing in an exercise bike (yeah, me and my trust fund) - because I never have time to go to a gym, go for a run.... (And don't say I could be doing exercise instead of doing this! I know that! I have to figure out a new schedule for myself...)

But. So. Anyhow. I don't know. This whole thing is just really thought provoking to me. How I see my body. How I dress my body. How my body is REALLY....

And now for some more matzoh and cream cheese.

10 Plague Bowling Pins

These had me doubled over with laughter at our seder. #1 is blood, #2 Frogs, #10 - slaying of the first born (see his sad face...)

Anxiety.

I know I need to do a post Passover wrap up (it went well!) but just need to vent this now.

X has kind of lost his job. I say kind of because they made him a "consultant." He's on half salary & no health insurance. His fiance lost her job a few months ago (works at an investment bank.. they're all being downsized.)

(And I know - those of you who know me for a while are probably like "X has lost his job AGAIN?!?" The man is a professional job looser/getter. He's really good at getting them. So I guess I"m not TOO worried.

But.

There have been funding cuts here & two of us will lose our jobs. I'll find out by the end of May. We'll get one months' notice & severance... plus I would get unemployment.

We don't know yet - who it will be. It's a small staff.. only three social workers... and some admin.

I'm trying NOT to stress.. because 1) there's nothing I can do to change any of it; 2) It might not be me.

But. You know. My mind goes to those dark places.... me out of work, X out of work, paying for summer camp... Not to mention the fact that I absolutely love this job. I love where I work, too - the agency - my boss is so family friendly that it makes it so easy for me...

She thought she was doing us a favor by telling us now. Being transparent. Letting us know about the process they are going through (budget, etc, etc...) but waiting a MONTH to find out. Pull that band-aid off! I want to know now!

(Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts....)

Somebody tell me now that the economy is doing well. Tell me and all those homeless people I'm seeing more and more of on the streets....

Passover

So tonight's the first night of Passover. Pesach in Hebrew. We (me, the kids, my parents, my sister, my brother and my Uncle!) are going over to J's parents house for the Seder. Big deal, huh? I tell people and their eyes open wider... "You are all going? To his parents' house?" I work with a rebbetzin - her husband is the rabbi at one of the big synagogues down on the Lower East Side... and when I told her what I was doing the first night I could see her practically planning the wedding... (Well, you know, my first husband not being Jewish and all... - though yes, he did convert.. but...) so this is oh so... meaningful to her..

Did I mention that Passover is the holiday where one is allowed to ramble? Especially in blogs. Yep. It's true. There's the line: "And thou blog writer - on this day you are allowed to ramble.. to go off on tangents... whatever." (And yes. They said "whatever". They learned it from their kids!) (So glad I don't have many Jewish readers...)

ANYHOW.

You know, last year was the first time I met J's parent. And my kids. And my parents have already met his parents & all the families have pretty much met.

But still. Our first Seder all together. Should be interesting. You know, of course, that I will report back.

But ARGH!! I have Such. Bad. PMS. Like the kind where you look for things to get upset about? Like the kind where everything is going along perfectly well and you're like "look! Look at that teeny tiny spot over there! Who did that! Somebody's gonna pay! We are all going to stand here and look at that spot and figure out who did it and who is gonna PAY for doing it! All of us! Because my goal is to make everybody as miserable as I am!!"

Ugh.

But it's still gonna be a good day/night? Right?

Tomorrow night the Seder's at my parent's house. J will be coming. His girls will be with their mom and her family. I luck out at not having a Jewish X (yes, he converted.. but...)

There will be photos. There will be videos. (New Flip camera, you know...)

Now I'm gonna go stick my head under a pillow for a little while.

peeps for passover - a set on Flickr

peeps for passover - a set on Flickr

So, I brought Max to the child psychologist yesterday. The psych told me to tell Max that he would be meeting with a "nice man" who "likes to talk and play games" and that I "met the man and he is very nice."

So, that is what I told him.

After he came out & we were walking home Max turned to me and said: "How come you didn't tell me you were bringing me to a psychologist?"

Huh?!

He then went on to say: "A psychologist is somebody you talk to when you have that nervous feeling in your stomach - or have something on your mind. I don't have that nervous feeling in my stomach! Why didn't you tell me?"

I looked at him and said "well Max, most children do not know what a psychologist IS - so I guess I underestimated you. I"m sorry. I should have told you. So, what do you think? Did you like it?"

He shrugs. "Yeah. I liked it. I'll go back."

My kids. I will never underestimate them again!