Didn't. Even. Flinch

Dear young man checking me out at HEB,

I would appreciate it if you would refrain from calling me ma'am.  You could replace this with, "Hey. What's up?" or perhaps "Did you have a killer time on 6th street last night?".  Just a suggestion.

And more importantly, when you scan an alcoholic beverage and a message pops up on your screen that says, "Is this person 30 or older?" you might want to pause...or glance up at me...or best case scenario ask for my ID.  What you DON'T want to do is press "Y" at mock speed as if there is no doubt in your mind that I'm over 30. 

Thanks in advance. 

Day 1 YMCA daycare - Niko survived

I stayed the course and ventured out to the YMCA today, two kids in tow.  Surprisingly Sami was a little nervous about it because she was going to miss me.  Awwwwww.  After some talks of bravery and treats she was all for it.  Poor Niko had no idea what was coming.  Little guy excitedly got on his shoes and ran out to the car (he loves car rides and going places). 

So, after some shenanigans with the sign in process, which included ID cards for Niko and Sami we headed to the daycare.  I was actually kind of glad that the kids got ID cards because this suggested that there was some sort of process and/or security guards (my preference) at the daycare entrance.  Rewind a bit.  The previous night I talked with my husband about dressing the kids in matching shirts and putting some sort of identifying trinket on them that would match something I had so there would be no confusion about which kid belonged to which parent.  My poor husband just stared at me blankly and a subtly nodded his head (indicating no, crazy person).  So, anyways we get to the daycare and there are no security guards.  Two young girls are running the place and the one that removed the entrance baby gate (that I had hoped was a laser gate with retina scan) was maybe 15.  I started cursing myself for not adding the trinket to the matching shirts (yes, they wore matching shirts).  I introduced myself and inquired about the process.  The process entailed signing the kids in on a generic sheet and placing their ID cards in a behavior chart thing.  Luckily, there were only a couple kids so that made me feel better (less chance of mix-ups).  They told me if Niko cried more than 10 minutes they would come and get me.  I quickly shared my worry about mix-ups and/or possible kidnapping and they laughed and that somehow made me feel better.  I bid them farewell and told them I'd see them in about 10 minutes.  Niko was oblivious when I left...playing with a kitchen set.  I figured this was the best way to leave him. 

So, I saunter out to the swimming pool, which is also not crowded.  I'm feeling so proud of myself. I did it! I left the kids in a low-security gym daycare and I walked away.  And my swim was AWESOME.  Pretty early into my workout I thought, "Why haven't I done this sooner!".  And then the 10 minute mark passed.  I figured "Hmmmmmm. I guess he's doing ok".  Then I see the elder girl (maybe 19) walk out to the pool with him.  This is kind of bad but I dove underwater super fast.  Isn't that horrible!  I didn't think about it...I just did it.  Hiding from the barely legal teenager and more importantly Niko.  Anyways, while I'm bobbing up and down like an idiot I realize that she is just bringing him outside....probably to calm him down.  And this was the moment I really liked her (not like I hated her before).  She was making an effort to help my little guy.  And she seemed to know what she was doing. 

I finished up my swim and realized I didn't bring a towel.  Nice.  Had to throw in a wrench somewhere.  However, some nice lady let me borrow hers in the locker room (wrench undone).  When I returned to the daycare (40 minutes later) there was little Niko looking clinically depressed in the arms of the elder.  When he saw me he started crying and likely thought in toddler-speak, "You mean. I hate you.  Where is Dad?".  Nonetheless, we all left unscathed.  I am so proud of myself and my kids  Especially Sami who takes it all in stride and is so patient with me. 

Score:
low security daycare - 1 
my neurotic, anxious self  - 0.  

Habitat for MySanity



I'm too cute to be stinky. 

Took the kiddos on an outing today.  Met up with some friends at the Austin Science and Nature Center. Really cool place.  And it's donation based, so affordable too.  Today I found myself thinking, "Where did I go wrong with my kids?".  Not so much my older one, but my younger son. I'm considering renting a habitat at the Nature Center.  Maybe right next to the wild cats.  I think he'd fit right in!!!!

It's really hard not to compare yourself to other parents, or your children to other kids.  Most of the time I find myself making excuses for my kids' behavior...an off day or an unfamiliar setting.  But with my younger one it's pretty darn constant.  He fusses.  He cries. He clings.  New day...he fusses...he cries...he clings. 

Here's where I may have gone wrong:

1)  Way overprotective when he was young.  Minimized outings to reduce exposure to germs.  Well, now that's I've typed that I'm realizing he's simply expressing my DNA.  Lovely. 

2) Didn't put him in daycare.  My mom lives nearby and takes care of him, which is AWESOME because she is the sweetest and most nurturing person on the face of the earth.  However, refer to #1 and multiply by 200.  

3) I have minimized outings in general due to my lack of patience and his persistent misbehavior.  I'm realizing that this has probably only added to the problem.  Sigh.



My fix-it plan:

1) Sign up for a membership at the YMCA, which offers childcare for 1.5 hours at a time.  My plan is to drop him and his older sister off quickly, apologize and run in the opposite directions. Does that sound harsh?  Goal - to expose him to unfamiliar environments and get him ready for daycare in the fall. 



2) Continue to take him on outings, knowing that I'm going to be frequently embarrassed.  What I'd really like to do is take him to a restaurant (kid friendly with lots of tolerant parents around), strap him in a high chair and not remove him from it until he finishes a reasonable amount of food.  This, of course, would involve a lot of screaming and tears (him screaming and me crying). 

3) Hire baby-sitters and stop relying so heavily on family.  Again, increasing his exposure to new people. 



4) Stop worrying that everyone thinks I'm a bad parent or that my son is feral (and should be returned to the wild). 

Knowing my neurotic self I will not do all of these, but I'm really liking #1 and #2.