So, we just returned from our first-ever cruise. On the cruise, there is a 'no cash' policy--everything is purchased on these cards, which eventually, gets charged to my bank account. The girls each had their own card, and with those cards, they could buy their drinks (pop, smoothies, etc.) by themselves. I have to say, it's kinda funny watching a kid sidle up to the bar and order. Anyways, on one of our "Fun Days at Sea," which loosely translates to, "You're in the middle of the ocean, so there's nothing to do but eat and drink all day," Clairey asked for a Diet Coke. Now, the kids aren't allowed to drink pop EXCEPT on special occasions. SMM and I were dropping $13 a pop on drinks that came in coconuts shaped like a monkey head, so what the hell, I let the kid have a Diet Coke.
I smiled as I watched her little self walk up to the bar, hoist herself up on the bar stool, and wait her turn. The bar tender gets to Clairey, I see her smile, and start to get Clairey's pop. Clairey hands her her card, and waits. The bar tender hands Clairey back a little black folder with the receipt and a pen. Clairey opens it, sits there, then leaps off the bar stool and high-tails it back to me. She's running--on a cruise ship, by a pool--and it's slippery, so i'm signing, "WALK! WALK!" She comes to a complete halt in mid run, looks at me, and whispers (loudly), "What's a 'signature'?!"
haha!
_____________________________________________________________
On the last night of the cruise, we were all sitting in the main lobby listening to a random Asian guy that sounded like Johnny Cash sing. Weird, I know. I had promised the girls that they could purchase a 'surprise' from the boat before the cruise was over. We were on the 3rd floor, and the gift shop was on the 5th--so Jenna asked if she could take her card up there, and get her little present that she had picked out. So, we gave her the spiel of being a young lady, and responsible, and not getting ANYTHING ELSE BUT WHAT WE HAD DECIDED UPON. We watched her as she headed up the stairs, then again, as she came down the elevators, bag in hand, and a HUGE smile across her face.
Then, it was Clairey's turn. She had been eyeing these 'princess' earrings the day before, and she really, really had to have them. I told her okay, and sent Jenna with her. We both told Jenna, "Let your sister get her princess earrings, and do NOT try to talk her into getting something else, do you understand?" and she answered 'yes.' We have to do this because if there's a random cheetah toy/anything with any kind of relation to a big cat, Jenna will sit there and try to convince Clairey that THAT'S what she should get. We felt okay sending Clairey with no pre-specified gift in mind, because she had said that she wanted 'those princess earrings.'
About 10 minutes later, we see the girls hop into the elevator and start on their descent. Clairey walks into the bar and proudly announces, "I got a watch!" I think, "Ah, she got that crappy princess watch that I told her was junk yesterday..." then she continues, "Just like mom's in the green box!" At that point, our faces go blank, then we start laughing hysterically.
--backstory-- The cruise ship has a lovely jewelry store on level 5, which carries all types of designer watches and diamond jewelry, as well as costume jewelry/watches. On the last day, they had a huge watch sale on the 'everyday' watches, where they were clearanced for $19.99. They're pretty, stainless steel watches that come with a necklace and earring set--for adults. --/backstory--
So, Clairey had gone upstairs, bypassed the 'princess' collection, and purchased herself a 'grown up' watch out of the case. Thank GOD they were on clearance that day, because they WERE selling them for the MSRP-listed price. Her explanation? "I wanted the necklace and earrings, and I wanted to get the watch for Gamma."
I can only imagine the cruise guy's face when she went up to the case and said, "I'd like THAT watch set, please." JEESH.
AND...we asked Jenna, "Why did you let her get that?!" and she says, "Because you told me NOT to talk her out of anything!" Of course...the ONE time she listens....
May 7, 2012
Apr 16, 2012
Cheetah afros
There is something so wonderful about Jen. I mean, hello, she's an amazing kid, but she is so full of complete and utter randomness, that when something 'deep' comes out of her, you just have to laugh. Last night, as I lie on Clairey's bed (in the pink, princess room) with my glass of red wine--all cozy and toasty and clean--watching the girls play "babies," I realized what a good job i'm doing. Moms and dads--you know what i'm talking about. We beat ourselves up on a daily basis thinking that we're not doing well enough as parents--well, i had one of those, "DAMN!! I'm doing a great job!" moments. And it went a little something like this (but you know you're going to get a lot of background and crap, so don't think for a minute this is going to be short):
Clairey LOVES babies. LOVES them. So, for this reason, her room looks like a veritable daycare. She has a baby swing, crib, pack-n-play, carrier, sling, carseat, bunk beds...and the list goes on. I'm sure you get the picture. To go with this cacophony of baby-related items, we also have many, many babies. We have "Victorious" and "Suzy," which were mine, and so named by me; we have "Baby Nina," her realistic-looking baby; and "Audrey Rose," her black baby. I'd try to be PC and say she's an 'African American' baby, but according to Clairey, she's not. Because no one in her family is from Africa--unlike her friend at school, who is actually FROM Africa and can speak an African language. HER baby is from America, and has black skin. So, from the mouths of babes, people--she is Clairey's black American baby. And Clairey loves her. And Jenna loves her. And they fight over the black American baby. (Yes, we're getting to the part about Jenna.)
So, Jenna ended up with Baby Nina and Clairey ended up with Audrey Rose. Out of the freakin' blue, Jenna says, "Mom, I love black people."
"That's great, J. You should love ALL people."
"But mom, you realize i'm going to end up marrying a black man. Since i'll be living in Africa, the chances are, i'll marry an African man."
"Yep, if you live in Africa, chances are, you'll marry an African man. And you guys will be happy, discussing cheetahs at every given moment, i'm sure."
"And I'm going to have a beautiful little black baby, mom. With an AFRO. Oh my gosh! I LOVE afros!!
[and here we go back to Jenna being Jenna...]
"I just LOVE afros, Mom! THey're so cool! Can I have an afro? No, I can't. Because I have 'white-girl' hair, and my friend, Camry told me that white girls can't have good afros because they're hair isn't curly enough, but MOM! I LOVE afros!! Maybe my little baby will have an afro, and it will be the cutest little baby ever!!! My friend, Kamari, has the most AMAZING afro! The other kids at school make fun of him and call him 'broccoli head,' but i told him, 'Kamari, I LOVE your afro. I think it's so cool and it doesn't look like broccoli at all! I LOVE his afro mom! And there's another little girl at school who has an afro, and she's so cute, mom!"
[break]
"Yep, you'll have a beautiful baby, Jen. And it may, or may not, have an afro. Because if you're white, and your husband is black, then you're going to have a baby that will come from both of you. So who knows? You may not get this baby with an afro that you so desire."
"Mom?"
"Yes, baby."
"I love ALL people. Is that okay?"
"That's beautiful. And YOU'RE beautiful, and your life is going to be beautiful, and your babies will be beautiful....when you're older than 30."
And why did this make me feel good? Because of this: because so many families talk down about different races with their kids--and you hear it in the way their kids talk. You know which family doesn't, and now we have proof? OURS. Damn skippy.
LOVE ALL PEOPLE. And maybe, you too, will have a beautiful baby with an afro. That will like cheetahs. A lot.
Clairey LOVES babies. LOVES them. So, for this reason, her room looks like a veritable daycare. She has a baby swing, crib, pack-n-play, carrier, sling, carseat, bunk beds...and the list goes on. I'm sure you get the picture. To go with this cacophony of baby-related items, we also have many, many babies. We have "Victorious" and "Suzy," which were mine, and so named by me; we have "Baby Nina," her realistic-looking baby; and "Audrey Rose," her black baby. I'd try to be PC and say she's an 'African American' baby, but according to Clairey, she's not. Because no one in her family is from Africa--unlike her friend at school, who is actually FROM Africa and can speak an African language. HER baby is from America, and has black skin. So, from the mouths of babes, people--she is Clairey's black American baby. And Clairey loves her. And Jenna loves her. And they fight over the black American baby. (Yes, we're getting to the part about Jenna.)
So, Jenna ended up with Baby Nina and Clairey ended up with Audrey Rose. Out of the freakin' blue, Jenna says, "Mom, I love black people."
"That's great, J. You should love ALL people."
"But mom, you realize i'm going to end up marrying a black man. Since i'll be living in Africa, the chances are, i'll marry an African man."
"Yep, if you live in Africa, chances are, you'll marry an African man. And you guys will be happy, discussing cheetahs at every given moment, i'm sure."
"And I'm going to have a beautiful little black baby, mom. With an AFRO. Oh my gosh! I LOVE afros!!
[and here we go back to Jenna being Jenna...]
"I just LOVE afros, Mom! THey're so cool! Can I have an afro? No, I can't. Because I have 'white-girl' hair, and my friend, Camry told me that white girls can't have good afros because they're hair isn't curly enough, but MOM! I LOVE afros!! Maybe my little baby will have an afro, and it will be the cutest little baby ever!!! My friend, Kamari, has the most AMAZING afro! The other kids at school make fun of him and call him 'broccoli head,' but i told him, 'Kamari, I LOVE your afro. I think it's so cool and it doesn't look like broccoli at all! I LOVE his afro mom! And there's another little girl at school who has an afro, and she's so cute, mom!"
[break]
"Yep, you'll have a beautiful baby, Jen. And it may, or may not, have an afro. Because if you're white, and your husband is black, then you're going to have a baby that will come from both of you. So who knows? You may not get this baby with an afro that you so desire."
"Mom?"
"Yes, baby."
"I love ALL people. Is that okay?"
"That's beautiful. And YOU'RE beautiful, and your life is going to be beautiful, and your babies will be beautiful....when you're older than 30."
And why did this make me feel good? Because of this: because so many families talk down about different races with their kids--and you hear it in the way their kids talk. You know which family doesn't, and now we have proof? OURS. Damn skippy.
LOVE ALL PEOPLE. And maybe, you too, will have a beautiful baby with an afro. That will like cheetahs. A lot.
Mar 9, 2012
Can't. Stop. Laughing.
Okay, first there was the man bag/satchel/man purse...now mantyhose???? You have got to be freaking kidding me. I can't look at this website without laughing out loud. The pictures...OH. THE. PICTURES. There's one of a group of young go-getters looking as if they're hanging out at a little cafe. No problem. But the guys are wearing pantyhose. No one sees anything funny about this? They're wearing SHORT WITH PANTYHOSE. How did the camera crew take a straight photo? "Hi Alex, so glad you could meet for lun...HOLY SHIT. Are you wearing PANTYHOSE?" This is too much. Too, too much.
I have nothing else to say about this. I just keep on laughing...
I have nothing else to say about this. I just keep on laughing...
Jan 31, 2012
Gymnastics woes
The Munch is having a set back at gymnastics. She's about to move to Level 5. In Level 5, you're required to jump to the high bar. Can she do it? Yes. Problem: She has fallen off twice and it has basically scared the living crap out of her.
The precursor to jumping to the high bar, is a glide kip. Can she do it? Yes, but only at home. She has not, up to this point, done it at gym. I know she can do it; her coaches know she can do it. They spot her with ONE FINGER and she does it, yet all but refuses to do it herself. After gym last night, her coach confronted her about it--she asked if she was scared to kip for some reason. Clairey immediately started crying. She said she was scared to kip because if she does it, then she knows she'll have to jump to the high bar and she's scared. [Let me tell you--her coach is freakin' AMAZING. She has more patience than I. She's going to be a brilliant mother one day.] Clairey's coach hugged her and loved on her, and told her that it's okay to be scared--that if she's not ready to move to Level 5, then that's okay--she can stay at Level 4. Clairey said okay, and we left.
We were bringing home a teammate of Clairey's, and she told Clairey that she knows Clairey can do it, and that she's a great gymnast. We dropped her off, and as soon as that door shut, Clairey started crying again. "I don't WANT to be Level 4!! I want to be Level 5!!"
"But you HAVE to do a jump to high bar in Level 5," I said.
"But I'm scared! I'm going to break my neck!"
Come to find out, the last 2 times she's fallen, she thought she broke her neck. And, she landed in a way that the wind was knocked out of her. That scares me as an adult--i'm sure, at 8, that it scared the bejeezus out of her.
She continued to cry. She wouldn't eat dinner--just ate crackers and cheese, and cried them into a nasty glob of tears and drool. She finally calmed down in the shower, and i just told her straight up:
"Listen, if you are not ready to move to Level 5--if you're not ready to jump to high bar--then I'm totally cool with it. You can take another year at Level 4, then move to Level 5 next year, okay? I promise you, I'm absolutely, 100% okay with it. I'm so proud of you, and i know when you're ready, you'll do it." And I looked at her--with her sweet, little, calloused hands in mine.
"You promise, mommy?"
"Yes, Munch, I promise."
"Okay...I want to be Level 5."
This kid. I swear.
"Are you SURE?" I asked. "REALLY SURE?"
"Yep. Pinky swear."
If you have an 8-year old, you know the severity of the 'pinky swear.' I got the pinky swear. And a bonus 'fist-bump-explosion.'
I told her that she needed to talk to her coach about it. She said she'd rather write a letter.
I love how she says she will "fockes" (focus). :)
The precursor to jumping to the high bar, is a glide kip. Can she do it? Yes, but only at home. She has not, up to this point, done it at gym. I know she can do it; her coaches know she can do it. They spot her with ONE FINGER and she does it, yet all but refuses to do it herself. After gym last night, her coach confronted her about it--she asked if she was scared to kip for some reason. Clairey immediately started crying. She said she was scared to kip because if she does it, then she knows she'll have to jump to the high bar and she's scared. [Let me tell you--her coach is freakin' AMAZING. She has more patience than I. She's going to be a brilliant mother one day.] Clairey's coach hugged her and loved on her, and told her that it's okay to be scared--that if she's not ready to move to Level 5, then that's okay--she can stay at Level 4. Clairey said okay, and we left.
We were bringing home a teammate of Clairey's, and she told Clairey that she knows Clairey can do it, and that she's a great gymnast. We dropped her off, and as soon as that door shut, Clairey started crying again. "I don't WANT to be Level 4!! I want to be Level 5!!"
"But you HAVE to do a jump to high bar in Level 5," I said.
"But I'm scared! I'm going to break my neck!"
Come to find out, the last 2 times she's fallen, she thought she broke her neck. And, she landed in a way that the wind was knocked out of her. That scares me as an adult--i'm sure, at 8, that it scared the bejeezus out of her.
She continued to cry. She wouldn't eat dinner--just ate crackers and cheese, and cried them into a nasty glob of tears and drool. She finally calmed down in the shower, and i just told her straight up:
"Listen, if you are not ready to move to Level 5--if you're not ready to jump to high bar--then I'm totally cool with it. You can take another year at Level 4, then move to Level 5 next year, okay? I promise you, I'm absolutely, 100% okay with it. I'm so proud of you, and i know when you're ready, you'll do it." And I looked at her--with her sweet, little, calloused hands in mine.
"You promise, mommy?"
"Yes, Munch, I promise."
"Okay...I want to be Level 5."
This kid. I swear.
"Are you SURE?" I asked. "REALLY SURE?"
"Yep. Pinky swear."
If you have an 8-year old, you know the severity of the 'pinky swear.' I got the pinky swear. And a bonus 'fist-bump-explosion.'
I told her that she needed to talk to her coach about it. She said she'd rather write a letter.
I love how she says she will "fockes" (focus). :)
Jan 25, 2012
HOME!
I just got back from Vegas. I was there for 3 days...left Sunday, came home Tuesday--so 2.5 days. However, I hadn't seen the girls since Friday, when their dad came to pick them up. To say i missed them is an understatement. I'm a homebody--I hate being away from my family. However, my dear friend, Michelle, was in Vegas with me--and we're in the same boat, so that always makes it tolerable. We spent a good portion of our time looking at pictures of our kids, and fawning over how cute they are. We are ridiculous. I know.
It was also a great time--I was there for work, so I got to hang out and spend some time with the people i've worked with over the last 6.5 years, and met many, many new faces! As always, the company spared no expense--we were treated well, and spoiled rotten. If I were a 20-something, single woman, with a penchant for booze, I would never want to return home. But, even being a late 30-something, married woman, with an appreciation for the mass amount of $$ that goes into PROVIDING free booze, I had a great time. Love my company...really, I do. Not many people can say that.
Anyways....I'm tucking The Munch into bed last night, and she was all up in my face. Which, is normal, but when she hasn't seen me for several days, it's really bad. I asked, "What are you doing?"
"Smelling you."
"Do I stink?"
"No, you smell like...mommy. And I missed you."
Eau de Mommy. It's all the rage.
"How was Las Vegas, mommy? Did you miss me?"
"Of COURSE I missed you. I missed you every day. Vegas was fun, but it's really smoky."
[look of surprise] "People are ALLOWED TO SMOKE THERE???!!!"
"YES. Inside the hotels even."
[Look of disgust.] "What did you do?"
"Oh, we had meetings, and some parties. Last night, we went to a club on the roof. The roof OPENED and fake snow fell in. It was really cool, but really cold."
"Oooooo....was it fun?"
"Yes, it was fun. But it was really loud."
"Why?"
"Because there was a live band. And when there's a live band, they always make it very, very loud."
"Were they Mexican?"
"Um....no."
"Oh, I only like loud music when it's Mexican music. Like when you go to a nice restaurant."
"What?"
"You know. Like when you go to a nice restaurant, like Rico's, and there's a Mexican band. There's 3 of them and the lady sings nice. Yep, I only like loud Mexican music."
Oh, this kid.
It was also a great time--I was there for work, so I got to hang out and spend some time with the people i've worked with over the last 6.5 years, and met many, many new faces! As always, the company spared no expense--we were treated well, and spoiled rotten. If I were a 20-something, single woman, with a penchant for booze, I would never want to return home. But, even being a late 30-something, married woman, with an appreciation for the mass amount of $$ that goes into PROVIDING free booze, I had a great time. Love my company...really, I do. Not many people can say that.
Anyways....I'm tucking The Munch into bed last night, and she was all up in my face. Which, is normal, but when she hasn't seen me for several days, it's really bad. I asked, "What are you doing?"
"Smelling you."
"Do I stink?"
"No, you smell like...mommy. And I missed you."
Eau de Mommy. It's all the rage.
"How was Las Vegas, mommy? Did you miss me?"
"Of COURSE I missed you. I missed you every day. Vegas was fun, but it's really smoky."
[look of surprise] "People are ALLOWED TO SMOKE THERE???!!!"
"YES. Inside the hotels even."
[Look of disgust.] "What did you do?"
"Oh, we had meetings, and some parties. Last night, we went to a club on the roof. The roof OPENED and fake snow fell in. It was really cool, but really cold."
"Oooooo....was it fun?"
"Yes, it was fun. But it was really loud."
"Why?"
"Because there was a live band. And when there's a live band, they always make it very, very loud."
"Were they Mexican?"
"Um....no."
"Oh, I only like loud music when it's Mexican music. Like when you go to a nice restaurant."
"What?"
"You know. Like when you go to a nice restaurant, like Rico's, and there's a Mexican band. There's 3 of them and the lady sings nice. Yep, I only like loud Mexican music."
Oh, this kid.
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