Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....


To wonder why Lindsay Lohan was let out of rehab early. Oh, that’s right, because she’s a ‘celebrity.’


To be a little bitter that Paris Hilton’s mug shot looks so good.


To be glad that Natalie didn’t cry on her first day of preschool.


To have skipped around the house going “I’m free for two hours” when I returned home from dropping Natalie off at preschool.


To hate bad mail days (the days where all you get are bills and a letter from a credit card company imploring you to try out their new credit card and blah blah blah…if I wanted your credit card, I’d have asked for one myself, thanks.)


To love slicing up some cheese and dipping it in salsa.


To think the 1980s movie Big Business is pretty hilarious.


To wonder how people can be yakking on their cell phone while driving in the preschool parking lot. Hello, small kids running around. The conversation can wait.


To be amazed at the mothers who drop their kids off with a full face of makeup. I probably drop off Natalie with breakfast remnants still on my mouth.


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The winner of my giveaway is milesandstella. Congrats!

The First Day

Natalie is bossy.

And sometimes she doesn’t like to share.

These are two huge reasons why that I’m nervous for Natalie to start preschool today. What if she tells the teacher to piss off when it’s announced that it’s circle time? Suppose she conks another kid over the head with a block because he dared to try and take the toy she was playing with?

What if she poos her pants?

Will kids laugh and point and be all, “That’s Natalie. She took a dump right in the middle of craft time.”

Maybe Natalie will say, “No thanks,” when the teacher asks her to listen.

What if she cries when I try to drop her off? Will I look like a monster if I calmly unclasp her hands from around my leg and deposit her on the Magic Rug? Is it okay if I quickly kiss her goodbye and race out of there so she doesn’t have a chance to cry? Should I give her a pep talk (“let’s not poo our pants, okay?”)

I should know how to do all of this. I have an older kid who did the preschool thing. But I can’t remember what I did. Plus we were in England at the time and things were a little different there.

I’m a nervous wreck.

What if I don’t cry when I leave her? Does that mean I have a heart made of steel?

Or what if I burst into tears in front of everybody? I’m an ugly crier so this could be tragic.

I just can’t believe Natalie is already in preschool.

Wasn’t she just born?




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I will be announcing the winner of the giveaway (see previous entry) tomorrow. So if you haven't entered yet, you still have time!

SmartKnitKIDS Review and Giveaway

My son Tommy was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder when he was younger. I would notice that certain things would bother him. When the fire alarm went off at his preschool, he’d meltdown because the noise was too much for him. Certain clothes were uncomfortable on his skin so he’d whine about it.

This is why I was impressed with the company SmartKnitKIDS. They have a variety of socks that help children with Sensory Processing Disorder or even kids who don’t like the annoying seams that socks have. They even have socks for adults! There are different colors to choose from, too. (I was drawn to the pink ones.)

Here is more in depth information from their website:


“Tired of hearing her son scream “these sock seams keep bugging me,” a mom decided something needed to be done. Every “seamless” sock her son tried had seams in it; there was not a truly seamless sock available. After explaining the frustrating morning routine to countless friends of her son’s struggles with socks, she was finally given the name of Knit-Rite, a textile manufacturer, and contacted them with her request for a seamless kids sock.

After several requests for seamless socks from "desperate" parents, SmartKnitKIDS socks were created. Knit the same way a caterpillar spins its cocoon, SmartKnitKIDS socks are started at the toe and worked up toward the ankle. This process insures a 100% seamless sock, so there are no seams to bug ya! A form-fitting design also keeps those annoying lumps and bumps out of the socks.”



SmartKnitKIDS was kind enough to send me a pair of socks to review. Upon seeing the socks my son said, “They look comfortable!” He does wear regular socks but sometimes he’ll itch at his ankles and say that the seams feel like they are digging into his skin.



Tommy put the socks on and dubbed them, “cool,” which is a very big deal for a third grader with a bit of an attitude.





Bottom line? Tommy was impressed with the socks.

And guess what? SmartKnitKIDS was nice enough to send me an extra pair to give away! I have a pair of white XL socks (this is the size my son tried on too) for one lucky reader. Just go to the SmartKnitKIDS website and tell me what you would buy. (Like maybe what color sock you like.) Also leave your e-mail address so I can contact you if you win if it's not connected to your blog account.

I’m not going to make you follow me for extra entries. I’d prefer you follow my blog if you like reading what I write, not because you want to win something.

I will draw a name tomorrow and get the socks in the mail this week.

Thank you again, SmartKnitKIDS!


**I was given the socks to review but the opinion is my own—and Tommy’s**

An E-mail to Tom

*Tom is in Korea for a year so I'll periodically share an e-mail that I've sent to him while he is there*

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Dear Tom,

You’ve been gone for three weeks and I must say, people have different reactions when I tell them that you’ll be gone for a year.

First we have the Religious Reaction. Some people simply tell me that they’ll pray for me, which I appreciate. But I had one lady take it a step further. When I admitted that you wouldn’t return until the following August, she gasped and crossed herself. I’m not kidding. She crossed herself. I thought I had accidentally informed her that you had passed or something but then she went, “An entire year?” and crossed herself again. I’ve never in my life seen anything like it and I backed away slowly. Maybe that woman belongs in another Reaction category (see Dramatic.)

There is also the Irritating Reaction. Upon informing the person that you are in Korea, they’ll wave a hand in the air and say, “At least it’s not Afghanistan.” They make me feel like I have no right to worry or miss you and it takes all my might not to conk them over the head with my purse and say, “Look lady. My husband may be in Korea but I still have a right to miss him and last I checked, it wasn’t entirely peaceful over there.”

Going alongside the Irritating Reaction is the whole, “At least he’s only gone a year and not eighteen months.” Yes, I always understand that situations can be worse but honestly, how do people think that comments like that will cheer me up?

We also have the Dramatic Reaction. I once told a woman that you wouldn’t be back until next August and she yelled (yes yelled), “Shut UP! An entire YEAR?!” I thought she was going to have a convulsion.

Rounding up the reactions that I’ve seen is the Overly Affectionate Reaction. These are the people who immediately gather me in their arms when they find out that you’re gone for a year. It can be quite a frightening experience. I mean, you know I’m not a fan of hugging people I don’t know. But what can you do when arms are suddenly tossed around you and you’re brought into someone else’s breasts but hug them back. It seems like I’m comforting them when I go, “I’ll be okay. Really.” It’s especially scary when they come at me with the air kiss on the cheek thing. I HATE the air kiss on the cheek thing. I always want to hold up a hand and go, “Please don’t” but then they’ll think I’m one of those people anal about germs and you know I’m not since you’ve seen me eat food that’s fallen on the floor.

So yes, Tom. There are many different reactions that I’ve had to deal with and I may even encounter more as time goes on.

Just know that we love and miss you, and oh, I mowed the yard the other day without any issues. At first I forgot to prime it because I assume that a mower should come to life the second I pull the string thing. When it didn’t I about ready had a fit in the front lawn but then I remembered the Optimus Prime thing that I made up to remember to prime it. (The little diddy in my head goes, “We Optimus Prime the mower, lalalala.”)

Love,
Your Optimus Priming Wife,
Amber

Tales of a Third Grade Geez

“And just remember to look people in the eye when they talk to you,” I reminded my son Tommy as he got ready to leave for his first day of third grade.

“I know, Mommy. Geez,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes.

He’s been geez-ing me a lot lately.

It is true that he sometimes forgets to make eye contact though. He once had an entire conversation with someone while staring at the grass. He has Aspergers and eye contact can be difficult for him.

“If you need help with anything, just raise your hand,” I continued. Tommy sometimes can get frustrated while doing seatwork and he doesn’t always like to ask for help. So then he sits there near tears, frustrated and not wanting to finish his work.

“Geez, I know!” There was the g-word again.

“I’m going to miss you,” I said, handing over his backpack. He picked out a Bakugan backpack. I don’t get Bakugans and I don’t like how they cost $8 for one.

Tommy didn’t respond. Hello? Are you going to miss me too, son? I only gave you life.

“Yeah, I’ll miss you,” Tommy said, almost as an afterthought.

“Want to take pictures?” I wondered. He really has to be in the mood for photos. If he’s not he just stands there sulking going, “Geez!”

“Sure.” Tommy shrugged. “But not too many. I don’t want to miss my bus.”

Yeah, I don’t drive him to school. I think it’s important for kids to learn to ride public transportation. And also, because I’m not in the mood to wait in the drop off line.

“Were you okay with your breakfast? Should I have made you eggs or something?” I asked as I grabbed the camera. A lot of my Facebook friends were talking about elaborate breakfasts they had made their children on the first day of school. One woman had made her kids a smiley face pancake, complete with fresh fruit and homemade whipped cream. (!)

I made Toaster Strudels for Tommy. But hey, I squeezed the frosting into the shape of a smiley face at least.

“Breakfast was fine,” Tommy answered.

I took some pictures.











Tommy is sporting jeans from Wrangler, a shirt he had to have (“really Tommy, you want to wear a shirt with skulls on it for your first day of school?”), and Transformer shoes that I found for 75% off at Target.



He’s also sporting a Bakugan backpack. He insisted I show you all. It’s apparently a very big deal.



“Okay, enough, I have to go.”

So I grasped him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye and said, “I hope you have a fantastic first day. I remember back when I started third grade and—”

“I have to go,” Tommy cut in. He’s really anal about not being late for things.

“Okay, Tommy. I love you.” I pressed a kiss on his head.

“I love you, too,” Tommy said, rushed.

And then he ran off, probably worried that I’d try to talk to him some more.

As I watched him go, that song that Meryl Streep sings in Mamma Mia filtered through my mind. You know, the song Slipping Through My Fingers? I mean, I know it pertains to her daughter in the film, but still.

I’d like to say that he turned around and gave me one final wave.

But no.

He was off and ready to start his first day of third grade.

This Is What Happens......

.......when you give a three-year-old her privacy.

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....



To love having the bed to yourself.


To be ready for Fall TV to begin.


To exercise for one day and then promise that you’ll do it every day and then, well, don’t.


To occasionally feed your kids Lunchables. (There was a big to do about this awhile back. I guess some mothers were horrified that Lunchables were given to children. Oh no. The horror.)


To not really understand what the Spanish lady down the street is saying to you because of her thick accent (but nodding along like you do—hopefully I don’t agree to something scary like hosting a Pampered Chef party.)


To still be wishing that an agent will like your book. I’d be an easy client, I swear. And I’d send gift baskets as a thank you. With chocolate.


To not wear makeup while Skyping. The last time I mentioned Skype people were all, “Oh, I couldn’t do that as I wouldn’t want to put on makeup.” You don’t have to put on makeup. Or wait, am I supposed to be putting on makeup?


To really wish people would take music off their blogs. It’s still startling me and most of the time, I really don’t like the music. I usually leave without commenting on those blogs because it’s hard for me to form a thought with Britney Spears blaring in the background.


To be all ready to send your son off to third grade tomorrow. I’ll miss the kid, don’t get me wrong, but the fighting with his sister and the questions about pubic hair is just getting to be too much.


To be equally ready for Natalie to start preschool on the 30th. She only goes a couple of hours and believe you me, I will enjoy those couple of hours. I plan on skipping around the house going, “I’m free,” and shopping in peace. I may tear up on the first day but I’m not one of those parents who wallow about being lonely. I mean, I may be able to READ again. READ!!

My Dear Letters

Dear Tom,

Maybe you need some etiquette training on how one behaves while talking on Skype. It’s not polite to call me a Yeti when I mention that I haven’t shaved in a few days. Saying, “Oh man, you were like a Yeti some days!” is not very nice. Did I ever tell you that there were some days when your breath smelled like ass?

Signed,
A-So-Not-A-Yeti,
Amber

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Dear Tommy,

What’s with all the hair questions? We’ve already established that when you’re older that you will have hair. Down there. So why did you have to take it further and ask if you’ll get hair on your butt too? I mean, ew.

Signed,
A-Sick-Of-Talking-About-Pubes,
Amber

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Dear Natalie,

Yay! You finally used the potty. But telling me that you don’t plan on doing it again is not cool. Thank goodness you did do it again, only you peed like a dude. This means that you got the pee everywhere on the toilet but inside it. Thanks.

Signed,
I'm-just-happy-she's-going,
Amber

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Dear Uptight Parents,

Really, it’s okay if your kid eats fries. It’s okay if you feed them non-organic food. If they fall down, don’t freak out about it. It’ll happen a lot.

PS—naming your kids overly unique names isn’t okay either. Naming a kid Cosmo is just wrong. And taking a popular name like Emily and spelling it Emaleah will be irritating for your kid in the future. It’s still the same name no matter how you spell it.

Signed,
The-woman-who-will-slip-you-kid-a-fry-when-you-aren’t-looking,
Amber


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Dear Vacuum,

I’m sorry I’ve been using you a lot lately. What can I say, I have a messy three-year-old. I’m trying to explain to her that we don’t dump our snack on the floor and then sit on it. And I’m trying to tell the bugs to not fly in the house so I don’t have to whip out the vacuum and suck them up since I’m too wimpy to deal with them myself. Please don’t stop working. I need you.

Signed,
A-highly-dependent-on-her-vacuum,
Amber

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Dear Halloween,

I know it’s still wayyy early, but I’m ready for you. I’m ready for the candy that I’ll say I’m picking up for the neighborhood kids and then usually wind up eating myself so I have to go buy some more. I’m ready for the costumes (Tommy is a creepy skeleton, Natalie is a peacock!) and I’m even ready for tackling the task of carving the pumpkin on my own (usually Tom would do it.) Sure it might end up resembling that scary looking dude on The Goonies but oh well.

Signed,
A-Ready-For-Candy,
Amber

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Dear Natalie,

I’m writing to you again because I’m getting a little irritated over the fact that you want to change your underwear at least 5 times a day. You cannot have a Princess pair in the morning and then change your mind and want a Blue’s Clues pair an hour later. Likewise at night you can’t suddenly request the flower ones and then toss me a dirty look when I say no. One pair of underwear per day! You are not Lady Gaga.

Signed,
An-I’m-not-doing-all-that-laundry,
Amber

The Things That I've Done...

Tom has been gone for over two weeks now. This means that I had to learn to do a variety of things on my own.

Here are a few things that I’ve done, so far:





1. Changed lightbulbs in awkward areas. When you’re short, changing lightbulbs isn’t as easy as it sounds. In order to change that one I had to get on a chair and stand on my tip toes. When Tom was here he’d have the bulb changed in less than a minute. It took me over ten minutes and when I was done I called the lightbulb a string of swear words as well as flipping it off.





2. Deal with disgusting bugs. Now, okay, this bug looks tiny, but it had a long THING poking from its ass. Therefore, I didn’t want to deal with it. If Tom were here he’d have grabbed his shoe, smashed the bug on the wall and said, “There.” Then he’d be all chuffed as though he expected an award and I’d be all, “Aren’t you going to deal with the carcass?” and he’d be like, “I killed it, you get to deal with that part.” So not fair! What I ended up doing with this bug is sucking it up the vacuum. And now I’m afraid to turn on the vacuum, lest it comes flying out. I wonder if I could run next door and say, “Could you turn this on for me?”





3. Made fun of things like this on TV on my own. In the past we’d have totally mocked Gary from Teen Mom bouncing around dressed as a bunny. It’s not as fun to mock on your own I’ve found.





4. Clean up “artwork”—wait a minute, I always did this on my own. But when I’d scrub it off, I’d usually rant to Tom and be all, “Your daughter made a mess today,” and he’d say something like, “Oh, she’s just my daughter now is she?” Now I just mutter angrily under my breath and count down the days until Natalie starts preschool.





5. Try to explain to Tommy that when he’s older that yes, he’ll have hair. Down there. He came up to me the other night and went, “So when I’m older, I’ll have hair on my penis?” and I wanted the floor to suck me up. Normally I’d send Tommy over to Tom because I’m sorry, just saying the word penis makes me giggle. It’s a funny word. Now Tom isn’t here so I had to stutter my response. “Er…yes….when you’re older you will have hair..” *Tugs on shirt collar* “Down there.” Maybe I could have asked Tom over Skype but I get paranoid that sometimes other people can hack into our conversation and if they overhear “penis” and “hair” they might thing something raunchy is going down. (Or that we have a bizarre hair stylist business.)

A Kid Called Tommy

This is Tommy.



He’s 8 and is about to start third grade.



He’s as loud as he looks.



He thinks things like farts and Jake Pavelka trying to act are hilarious.



He wants to know about everything.



How do tornados form?



Will I ever be a really fast swimmer?



Do girls think I’m cute?



Why is Ryan Seacrest so short?



Tommy has something called Aspergers.



But it doesn’t bother him.



Because he plans on conquering the world.

Separate Beds

Back when Tom was still here, we took a trip to the beach.

We slept in this room.



I know. Very Leave It To Beaver huh?

The thing is, I didn’t mind so much. It meant I could sleep without having to worry about Tom shifting around.

Tom took one look at the room and bluntly said, “What about the sex?”

“We’re at the beach, who is thinking about sex?” I joked. I just wanted to dip my feet in the ocean and lounge by the water. (This never happened though. When you have children there really is no such thing as lounging.)

The problem with two beds like that is, when your husband starts snorting you can’t just kick him to shut him up. No, you have to shout, “Cut it out!” And sometimes that doesn’t work so then you have to get out of bed (cold floors!) and smack him over the face with your pillow. Then when he’s all, “The eff was that?” you can feign stupidity and be like, “What was what?” while thinking, “It worked, he’s not snoring anymore!”

Tom also made s’mores while we were at the beach. He started digging a hole to start the fire and I went, “Let’s pretend we’re on Survivor!”



“No,” Tom answered.

“Oh come on. You’d be a good contestant. Your name can be Kurt and you can be some dude in special forces and—”

“Why the hell is my name Kurt? Why can’t I just be Tom?”

“Because we’re imagining!”

“I don’t imagine.”

Boring old Tom.

But he did make an awesome fire so we could have s’mores. I had like five of them. Tom had none because he’s strange and doesn’t like s’mores and wouldn’t pretend to be Kurt.

“You have chocolate all over your face,” Tom told me as he put out the fire.

“Where?”

“All around your mouth and I’m not sure how it got there, but on your forehead.” Tom leaned over and wiped the chocolate on my forehead off. “You’re the messiest eater I’ve ever met.”

“But you love me!”

“You smell like a giant chocolate bar.” Tom made a face.

“The best smell ever!”

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....


To sometimes want to have a freak out like that flight attendant who suddenly quit his job after being berated.


To feed your children processed foods.


To wish Brendon from Big Brother would grow a pair of balls. Maybe they fell off in the water? He is a swim teacher.


To make regular bag lunches for your kids and think the whole Bento lunch craze is a tad bizarre.


To be a little bummed that your mother is leaving today. No one can cut fruit like her.


To be counting down the days until school starts again.


To want to go to Italy after watching Eat, Pray, Love.


To still think of Neil Patrick Harris as Doogie.


To think the ‘just kidding’ lady on SNL is irritating, not funny.


To wish you could afford a tummy tuck.


To love the invention of Skype.

My Husband The Werewolf...

“And I figure we’ll start a budget so we know what we can each spend each month on fun stuff,” I said.

My husband Tom morphed into a werewolf as a response.

“Come on, Tom,” I said. “Seriously.”

We were talking on Skype. He’s in Korea for a year, I’m in the States. Lately he’s been hanging out with a bunch of people and has been spending money left and right. I was trying to have a serious conversation but I find whenever I try to do that, he plays with his web cam features.

“So you don’t always have to go out,” I continued. “And likewise, I’ll watch what I spend. That way we have more money to put in savings when you come back.”

“Growl,” Tom answered, still a werewolf.

“I’m being serious here,” I said sternly.

“Yay,” Tom said and then his face returned but a bunch of balloons floated around the screen.

It’s like talking to someone with ADD.

“I went with some of the guys to a nearby town,” Tom said, and finally he was just himself. “I tried some Korean food.”

This is a big deal because Tom can be incredibly picky. The man doesn’t like pot roast for craps sake. Who doesn’t like pot roast?

He showed me a picture of what he ate.



“Oh, you’re using chopsticks,” I said, impressed. I tried to eat with chopsticks and couldn’t get a morsel of food to my mouth. In the end I lost my patience and just stabbed the meat with the stick and ate it like that.

“It was all they had. Oh, and you wouldn’t believe all the prostitutes I saw walking around.”

I nearly choked on the water I had just taken a sip of. Tom had said it so casually. Prostitutes. (The first thing I pictured was Julia Roberts.)

“They kept asking if we wanted to buy them a drink,” Tom said, making a face.

“Did you show them your wedding ring?” I asked.

“They don’t care. They’re prostitutes,” Tom reminded me.

Well. Still.

“I better get going,” I said. “I have to clean up. I miss you.”

Tom turned into an alien. “Miss you.”

Ugh.

My Mom Is Here!

My Mom is visiting!

She’s here until Tuesday.

She’s already helped me with the plants that the base planted in my yard. One of those plants turned out to be a giant weed. Um, oops. It looked like a regular plant to me. I had been proudly watering it and everything.

Then Mom found out that the base planted a rose bush on top of a thistle.

“Is that bad?” I asked and then thought to myself, “Thistle is a fun word to say.” That’s probably why I suck with plants, because I can’t focus long enough to understand how to take care of them.

(Putting a plant on top of a thistle is not a good thing, FYI. Mom managed to clip it away from the plant.)

She’ll also be a welcome help with Natalie, whose moods can go from this:



To this:



To this:



To this:



To this:



(After rudely eating MY chocolate!)

To this:



Catch my drift?

Inside Natalie's Closet: Gymboree!

It’s no secret that I love to buy my children clothes. So I’ll occasionally post about the latest outfit that I purchased.

The outfit that I’m going to share is from Gymboree’s Smart Girls Rock line. This will be one of Natalie’s preschool outfits.



“Hey Natalie, want to take some pictures?”



“You can act like a model!”









Those socks are supposed to be knee high socks but Natalie is short so they basically cover her entire leg.

Natalie sometimes likes to make faces at the camera.

Here’s her impersonation of an uptight rich woman.



Her reaction to Real Housewives of New Jersey Danielle Staub. (I know sweets, she scares me too.)



And this is Natalie wondering what in the world happened to Mel Gibson?



Then I ran into the side of the house, because this always makes Natalie laugh.









*Shirt change*

So when it starts to get cold, and it will since we’re in Wyoming, I also got a long sleeved top to go with the skirt.







Everything went well at first.

But then Natalie spotted a moth.



She did not like said moth.



Then she did an impression of John Mayer singing.



Smiled for me when I ran into the house.



And decided to carry a rock around on a spoon. (For some reason when I asked her if she wanted to take pictures she went, “Yes, can my spoon come?” Um. Okay?)



Then I told her I’d be taking one last photo so she waved for the camera.



Goodbye blog readers!