November 1, 2006
Mulan and the Tulip Fairy
I wanted to get these up last night, but yesterday was hectic. The cupcakes were a big hit as was Big I’s costume at school. Last night was a lot of fun and both girls were great about keeping their costumes on and had a good time.
I present to you, Mulan. . .
and the Tulip Fairy. . .
And Mulan and the Tulip Fairy together. . .
Now you’ll have to excuse me while I go and continue being a human tissue. Lil C had a visit with her doctor this morning. She has a cold, that turned into croop, that turned into an ear infection, that turned into a clogged tear duct. Trick-or-treating was fun last night; afterwards all hell broke loose. The BBM family will gladly accept donations of Lysol, Kleenex, stain sticks. . .
I can not WAIT to go to karate tonight. Have fun Mr. BBM!
Kailani at The Pink Diary is having a Halloween Costume contest. Go and vote for the BBM girls or to check out the other entries!
November 1, 2006
Perfect Post-October
I forgot all about the Perfect Post awards last month. This month, I couldn’t possibly forget because this post got me all worked up. Jenn at Maniacal Days wrote a hypothetical letter to her boss about why she wouldn’t be in work that day. You can go read the letter yourself, but what got me about it is that it captured so clearly what so many working Mom’s deal with. I work too, but I’m lucky enough to work from home and make my own schedule.
A lot of Mom’s don’t have that option available to them, and Jenn’s letter really captures the angst of having to stop breastfeeding early due to work and the struggle of what to do when you’re sick, your child is sick, and your boss just doesn’t get it.
Congratulations on your Perfect Post award Jenn, and with it comes a wish that you’ll be able to stay at home soon! If you’d like to see other Perfect Post awardee’s you can go here or here.
October 30, 2006
Chaotic Cupcakes
I volunteered to make cupcakes for Big I’s Halloween party at school. (It’s the Mom guilt. I can’t go to the party with Lil C and I don’t have a sitter.) Because I’m a perfectionist over-achiever, I had to do something super cool. No ordinary cupcakes would do. So, I found an idea for jack-o-lantern cupcakes and went to town.
Lil C is quite content playing in her port-a-crib, so she hung out in there while I put orange icing on the cupcakes. Then I heard Big I cracking up laughing. "What’s so funny?" I called to her. "Lil C is undressing herself," she laughed. She could barely talk she was laughing so hard. I walked over to the crib and there’s Lil C without her little jeans, with her zip up sweatshirt off, and her tank top pulled up and over her head, bunched behind her neck holding her in a full nelson. She spent the entire afternoon wearing only a diaper and protesting loudly if I tried to redress her.
When she was sick of her crib, I brought her into the kitchen while Big I and I cut green leaves candies into pumpkin stems and arranged chocolate chips into jack-o-lantern faces. In the time it took to finish the cupcakes for school, Lil C:
- pulled all of my Tupperware out of the cabinet
- pulled all of the snacks out of the cabinet including a bag of pretzels that she emptied completely onto the floor
- removed every single school paper that Big I has ever brought home from school from Big I’s folder and spread them out around her in the kitchen
- removed each and every letter magnet that she has and threw those on the floor as well
- tried to remove my cleaning products from another cabinet
- pulled out pots and pans and threw those on the floor as well
When she went towards the pantry closet, I decided that decorating the extra cupcakes for us was going to have to wait until later. I sort of attempted to tidy up the kitchen before acting class, but gave up because dressing the squirming naked baby took quite a bit of time.
When we all arrived home tonight, Mr. BBM was greeted with the kitchen from hell and leftovers. After dinner, I finished decorating our cupcakes and was directed by Big I to make them "creepy." I did my best. I know my skeletons look like they have some irritable bowel issues, but I only had one kind of icing and Big I was still thrilled despite the poopy-pants skeletons.
I think I have to change my blog name to "Black Belt Betty Crocker".
Be sure to check back for costume pictures tomorrow!
If you are interested in fantasy football, you can check out my latest post at Save the Soldiers. It’s all about making lousy decisions which is what fantasy football is all about right? The post is called Serving and Devouring Crow 24/7 and can be found here.
I’m also participating in the Carnival of Family Life this week and those entries, along with a link to my sad little chipmunk story can be found here. Check them out!
And to all the new visitors and commenter’s, a big BBM "Welcome" to you!
October 25, 2006
Not Me
I don’t want to be that person. Sometimes I wonder if I am. Starting out in the martial arts at 29 seems to be ancient. I wonder if the parents who watch their children from the comfort of the waiting area are thinking I should give it up; karate is for kids, not their parents. I wonder what other people think about how I do my kata, how I spar. Do they think I’m a joke? Do they think I’m good? Do they think I’m silly for starting so late?
It’s easy to doubt yourself when it took a good ten years to start on the path that you wanted to all along but were too afraid to try. It’s easy to wonder, when you see your reflection at the dojo, wearing that brown belt, if you’ve really earned it, if you really know your stuff as well as you should.
After studying karate for a few years, I can look at others and know which ones are really nailing their kata, and which ones are sort of going through the motions. Am I going through the motions or do I look like I know what I’m doing?
If you ask my Mom about me and my karate she will tell you how great I am at it. She will say about my karate skills, "She’s a natural. It just comes so easily for her. She’s really great at it." She brags about me to her friends, and although I’m flattered and happy that she thinks I’m so great, I know that she is, after all, my Mom. That’s what Mom’s do. They praise and brag. It’s in the Mom wiring.
Recently several students at our dojo competed in a tournament. I didn’t go. I wouldn’t have been able to anyway, seeing as how sick I was; but even if well, I doubt I would have gone. I haven’t ever really considered going to tournaments. The martial arts journey has been personal for me. The idea of putting it out there in a public arena is a little unsettling. Trophies are nice and all, but who knows if I’d even get one. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? The 31-year old brown belt who is there and is a complete joke. Who let her in here anyway?
In the safety and comfort of the dojo, where the environment is so supportive, you can start to let yourself believe that what you’re doing is right, that others see what you’re doing and think that you know what you’re doing. At a tournament? You might become one of people that everyone sort of laughs at, the joke.
When it all boils down, it shouldn’t really matter what other people think about me, my kata, my karate. It should really only matter what I think of myself. But getting to that point is going to be the hard part.
October 24, 2006
Just my Luck Or RIP Little Chipmunk
I drove Big I to school this morning and there was nothing extraordinary that separated today from any other day. Upon arriving home, I normally walk around the front of my car to get Lil C out. I don’t know what made me go around the back today, but I did and that’s when I saw it. . . a squished dead chipmunk. It lay there, three feet behind my back wheel, dead as a doornail and so obviously my doing.
I stopped in my tracks and let out a horrified sigh. And then I realized something even worse than the dead chipmunk. Before Big I gets off the bus today, I’m going to have to clean up my mess.
I am the person who can’t pick up a cat hairball without throwing up a little in my mouth or at least heaving to the point that I have to run to the bathroom, just in case. I scanned my neighbor’s houses and cars to see if anyone suitable for doing this sort of thing was home, and the answer was sadly, no.
I took Lil C in the house and did what any rational wife who just killed a chipmunk would do. I called my husband whose office is 45 minutes away and demanded that he come home and now. He laughed while I cursed him for not working from home today of all days DAMN IT. "Just put on a glove. . . " he started. "NO! I can’t do THAT!" I said completely horrified. "I’ll throw up!" I said. "Well, then your other option is to get the snow shovel. . . ". "Oh GOD NO. . . Can’t you just come home?" I begged. "Do you think my Dad would come out and take care of it for me?" I asked my husband. "No, well, maybe. You could call him and tell him that you hit a deer, and that you need help. Then, when he shows up, you could tell him ‘Oops! Sorry, I meant a deer MOUSE’" my husband said while relishing in the fact that he was a good hour away.
"How bad is it?" he asked. "It’s bad," I said "he’s a pancake, squished in the middle and what’s coming out the ends isn’t pretty." "Oh Man," he said and laughed some more.
So I hung up and did what any rational woman would do. . . I called my Mom.
"I have a problem," I said. "WHAT?" she asked thinking there was something seriously wrong. I told her my dilemma and she recommended that I first cover the poor little guy with some leaves and then scoop him up with a snow shovel and put him in some bushes or trees where he wouldn’t be disturbed. This from the woman who had a chipmunk trapped in her fireplace, so my Dad put a trap in there, caught him, and then released him into the woods. "I don’t know if I can do this," I said. "Well, you’re going to have to. Imagine Big I’s face when she gets off the bus." "I know," I said, resigned to my fate.
I got Lil C occupied in her port-a-crib and retrieved the snow shovel. As I opened the front door, a squirrel sat on my step just staring me down. You think I’m kidding? Because I’m not! Then the birds started making all kinds of noise and swooping around in a threatening fashion. I was waiting for a mountain lion to come charging down from the woods and eat me or something. I felt like the friendly forest folk were declaring war on me. I needed to do this quickly.
I threw some leaves on top and I’ll only say that dead chipmunks don’t just nicely move themselves onto snow shovels. There was some scooping and some squirming (that was me) and then I finally got him on the shovel and put him in a ground covering bush away from the house. Then, I had to hose off the shovel, and hose down the crime scene. I also had to hose down my back wheel. Can I tell you how relieved I was that it was my BACK wheel and not the front? I never saw him because he ran out after my front wheel had already passed. Stupid chipmunk running under a car.
And so considering how this day started, I think I’m ready to call it a day. The things we’ll do for our kids. . .
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