Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Sunday, July 13, 2014
On a recent lazy afternoon, I asked the kids:
"So, should we go to the playground or the library?"
"The library!" Primo piped up.
"You like the library, huh?"
"Mom, of course!" he exclaimed, "I mean, can you believe someone invented libraries? A place where you can get books for free? As many as you want? That's, like, the best thing ever,"
And I had one of those, "Yep, he's mine, all right" moments.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
I wasn't the one who started the potty training experiment. It was Terza. She's a real self-starter like that. Mainly, it's because she's in day care part of the week so she sees her school friends using the potty and she thinks, "Hey, that looks fun. I wanna give it a whirl." And she comes home and says, reasonably enough, " wanna use the potty Mommy."
What Mommy would stand in her way?
But here's the problem with Terza's potty training. It's spotty. Really spotty. Her success rate at present is near to nil. Now, obviously, I understand this isn't a pass/ fail thing, I understand there's no "failing" that whatever she does is great and it's all a learning process and a journey and the journey is beautiful.
I get that.
Here's what else the journey is: messy.
You could nickname our apartment Urinetown. I'd be insulted but I wouldn't dispute you. Th skid pisses EVERYWHERE. Her favorite place to pee, though, is my bed. And her favorite time to pee in my bed is riiiiiiiiight after I change the sheets from the last pee accident. Those sweet-smelling, crisp linens must be a siren song to her, whispering, "Coooooome. Do you have to go pee-pee? This is the puuuuuurfect place. Just sit on down and let it all gooooooooo."
The best part is she will run to me, all proud, and announce, "I went POTTY Mommy!" My heart sinks and I ask, "Where, honey?" and she proclaims, 'On your BED! Like a BIG GIRL!"
Occasionally she will even clap her hands, gleefully, as if she's a prompter and I forgot my line.
Then I will sigh, suppressing the urge to reprimand her, because hey, she's a baby after all, and yes, it's all a learning process. And I'll strip the sheets and the mattress paid, AGAIN, and wonder how do you wash a quilt and calculate whether I have enough time to launder all the bedclothes before I have to go to sleep, and I will consider canceling potty training.
Because the Urinetown aspect of this experience isn't even the shittiest part, no pun intended.
One day last week, she was wearing her diaper and she said, "I have to go potty" and a minute later, she had - the stink was unmistakable -- and she rushed over and announced, "I DID IT!" and to prove it, she pulled down her underwear and showed me. I was confused, because I'd thought she was in diapers, just a minute ago, but she explained that she had changed into her underwear so she could poop in there, "Like a big girl."
That's when I said to David, "I feel like she's not getting this."
So, I've removed the underwear from the drawers and reverted to Pull Ups. I've run out of detergent, to say nothing of patience. I figure once I replenish both, in a few days, we'll resume.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
At long last, the day has arrived -- you can find Now I See You at a bookstore near you! Go buy a copy, or just gaze as it's beautiful cover. And don't forget to tell your friends!
If you'd like to whet your palate, check out this excerpt of the book in New York magazine's The Cut!
Monday, June 16, 2014
There's a lot of milestones you expect: seeing your child off, at her first day of pre-school, taking pictures at Kindergarten graduation, and many other Hallmark moments I haven't encountered yet. But there are so many other little milestones that amaze and humble me, like the day your son has bigger feet than you.
We passed this milestone a few weeks ago, when I slipped my feet inside the work-a-day black faux leather shoes by the front door. Except that they felt really loose. So I took a closer look at realized they were Primo's shoes and they were too big on me.
Holy shit, I thought with wonder. Then followed a bittersweet combination of feelings. How could time be passing so fast? Will I blink and he'll be leaving for college? Was I doing a good enough job of being a mother? Was it too late to do better? How wonderful that we've made it this far together! How happy I am, and grateful, to have a kid who's turning into a person i really like and want to spend time with. How soon, I'll be gray and wrinkled and in a nursing home. Remembering the day my son was born, the first time I saw him. Sort of wishing he was a baby again. Sort of wishing he was graduating college, Wanting immediately to go kiss his big tousled head and admire his gargantuan man-sized feet.
Crying, in the foyer, near my front door, wondering what I came her to do in the first place.
These are the little moments that creep up on you.
Holy shit indeed.