Friday, November 16, 2012

Courage in the Form of Pink Sparkles

Yesterday was one of those magical mornings at make me feel like I should have a beer for breakfast. It was a big special day at Spice’s school. The PTA puts on a big Thanksgiving feast for all the kids and they are asked to dress nicely for the event. Spice came downstairs dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. I reminded her that it was a day to dress up in something fancy, which immediately caused a problem.


I think there is a file folder in her brain that she keeps a schedule of what she’s going to wear when. I don’t know how far in advance she plans these things out, but it almost seems to cause her physical pain to change her mind. Hello, OCD much? I left the decision up to her though. It took her a long time to decide whether to stick with her original plan or to change. She ended up changing into a polka dotted dress, black leggings and pink sparkly boots.

I picked her up yesterday and she was full of some long rambling story about Emma’s dad and lunch and one guy hit another one and they all laughed. After carefully questioning her, I finally got to the bottom of the story.

I had forgotten that on the day of their Thanksgiving feast, firemen from our town come in to serve the kids. Spice met two of these firemen when her sister won a trip to school in a fire truck. I blogged about it here:


Apparently, Spice walked into the cafeteria and was delighted to see the two firefighters she remembered from so long ago. As it turns out, the “cute one” is also her friend’s father. Spice waited in line for her meal and when it came time for her to pass Joey, she said, “Do you remember me?”

Nothing like being put on the spot.

From what I can tell, the other firefighters laughed a little bit and Joey said he didn't remember her. I’m sure it was with great indignation that she reminded him he drove her to school A YEAR AND A HALF AGO. At that point the other firefighter punched her Joey in the arm while the rest of them laughed. I’m sure cutie muffin Joey has females come up to him all the time asking if he remembers them… they just probably aren't six years old.

I've always known that Spice could be pretty brave when she wanted to. I’m impressed that she remembered the guys that she met once, and so long ago. Even when she retold the story about talking to him, I could see Sugar cringing like, “I would never do that!!” while Spice didn't see anything out of the ordinary about it.

When we grow up, sometimes we’ll do a shot or have a drink for some “liquid courage.” I think Spice’s courage comes in the form of pink sparkly boots… there’s nothing a girl can’t accomplish when she’s wearing the right shoes. 

xoxo
Ice Princess

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

A Swift Kick


I found myself laughing inappropriately most of the way into work today. Laughing inappropriately is a very bad habit of mine and I do feel guilty for having gotten such a good chuckle out of a recent situation. I do pat myself on the back though for not laughing about this in front of the girls.

I arrived at Spice’s school yesterday to pick her up and was greeted by Stacey, the woman that runs the after-school program. Her face had “that look” that all mothers dread. Given that I had already seen Spice working happily on a craft, I knew she wasn't hurt. I worried about the other person… not knowing yet what had occurred.

She told me that my girl kicked a boy in the face and gave him a bloody nose. My initial reaction was one of surprise and anger. I couldn't believe that she’d just haul off and kick someone and I was angry because she’s been taught better than that. The next sentence out of Stacey’s mouth was, “I couldn't really punish her or write her up because she was defending herself.”

This story is going to be good.

Apparently, they were playing on the playground and this boy chased Spice and tried to hit her with a stick. She ran and ran and finally turned around and kicked the boy in the face. Of course it was a good solid kick and blood gushed immediately. However, my girl cried harder over the incident than the little boy did.

I had Spice apologize to Stacey, but the boy was already gone, so there wasn't much I could do about that. Spice’s rendition of the story didn't differ much from what Stacey told me, but it lacked her usual level of detail.

This morning, when her dad asked about the incident, Spice told us that she had been outside playing with her stuffed giraffe when the boy started chasing her to hit the giraffe with the stick. When she finally had enough, she turned around and attempted to kick the stick out of his hand.

Spice really needs to work on her aim.

As Spice is pretty small, I was surprised that she was able to kick someone in the nose. So I asked if he had knocked her down or something, I mean how else could she reach a nose with her foot? I said, “Was it a hi-ya karate kick?” and she said it was.

I just keep picturing the scene over and over in my head and I laugh. It’s horrible that I laugh about something that causes a little boy to get hurt. Imagining her taking aim for the stick in his hand and missing altogether  the look on her face must have been priceless.

As inappropriate as my laughter is, I did the right thing as a parent and talked to her again about using words instead of fists (or feet) and finding the adult in charge when she needs help. She said that she did try, but he kept “blocking her.” In her mind she did the only thing she could to protect her giraffe. I’m hopeful that it will not happen again.

It remains a mystery to me as to why this boy would mess with Spice. Most the rest of the world just knows that she is a force to be reckoned with… I guess he missed that memo. 

xoxo
Ice Princess

Friday, November 9, 2012

Evidence of Happy Chicks!


Sometimes I worry about Sugar and Spice and I wonder, “Are they happy? Are they secure? Do they love life? Are they comfortable enough to express themselves in front of their friends, classmates and family?” Then I watch closely and I see that things are all happy, happy, happy in their world.

Sugar has started doing her own hair in different, sometimes elaborate styles every morning. I try not to criticize, figuring she’s expressing her individuality that way. She’s gone to school with it pinned all goofy to one side, a variety of ballerina buns, braids and twists. She’s also dressing a bit funkier and wearing a fedora-type hat made of sequins. I’m thrilled she’s comfortable enough in her own skin to wear what she wants and not give a shit what older or “cooler” kids might have to say about it.

God knows I, her mother, wouldn't be caught dead in a hat… or even one of those fancy scarves that seem so popular these days. I mean, a scarf settle atop my rack like it was on display. Nice look!

And Spice, well she just loves school, her teacher, most of her classmates. Every day I get a glowing report about what she had for lunch, who she sat with, who got in trouble in class and how well she did. Because my kid is damn near perfect and NEVER does anything wrong. Well, almost never or hardly ever. Don’t let the last few sentences fool you, I am perfectly aware of what that little pip is capable of!

Yesterday Spice went through her own folder and pushed most of the paperwork aside so I didn't find it until this morning. I was glad that I had a quiet kitchen to myself to look through the October journal that I stumbled across. The drawings were priceless.

The one that made me laugh the hardest was of the school bus. If you look closely at the top of the bus, you'll note that she calls it a "Party Bus." She writes that she gets to take the bus and "it is fun." 



This picture shows a drawing of a fairy house. She's extremely into fairies at the moment and believes that if she builds these houses outside, they will come there to live. So watch your step as you walk across our porch... you may crush a fairy village!



And finally, this picture. Really? I think it's pretty safe to say my girl's world is still bright and sunshiny. 



xoxo
Ice Princess 

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Shopping for Foundation


Sometimes we are given the opportunity to fuck with people multi-generationally… I would be remiss if I didn't grasp an opportunity such as this when it presents itself.

I've long said that EN gets his “everything nice” from his dad. It’s really ridiculous how nice these two are and it’s even meaner that I took total advantage of their niceness. We have EN Senior visiting us for a few days. Given that father and son coordinated the visit without consulting me, I felt that some retribution was in order.

I got a text a few hours ago that they were headed off to Walmart. I have no idea what their intentions were, but I jumped at the opportunity when EN texted and said, “Do you need anything?” Seriously? Who would NOT have jumped at this opportunity? Every icky section of Walmart was my oyster, which pearl to choose?

I could choose a feminine product or undergarments; even corn syrup would have been amusing because EN insists that no such item exists. I am actually in need of foundation so I asked him to get me some Cover Girl. I told him that the compact was blue and told him the shade I needed. I knew that another woman would have picked this out in a jiff and been on her way in a few minutes. I giggled and wondered how long it would take these two to navigate the very scary makeup aisle.

Inside of 30 minutes, I received four pictures and a gazillion texts on my phone…

Picture #1. I received the picture and told EN this was definitely not correct, it says POWDER in big letters. He pointed out that it said foundation in little bitty letters. Anybody knows, you go by what the big letters say. So I asked if it looked powdery or creamy and he said it was covered with plastic. Rather than attempting to describe the difference in the “look,” I told him to just try to find something that said cream foundation.



Picture #2. Definitely not what I usually buy. So I said that wasn't correct.



Picture #3. That is definitely a compact of pressed powder. Any girl in the world, even one that uses fancy shit from Sephora, recognizes that compact. Next.



Picture #4 arrived after I looked online to find out what the EXACT name of the foundation was so I could text the precise name.



EN texted back as a “friendly FYI” that the stuff I wanted didn't have the WORD foundation on it anywhere.

Truly yes, I am grateful that my husband and his father were kind and brave enough to traverse the makeup aisles in Walmart, but seriously folks… If they had sent me out to get a Philips screwdriver, would I have stood in the hardware aisle panicked looking for the word PHILIPS to appear on a screwdriver?

I think not. 

What's even funnier (to me anyway) is that their hands look so alike, I'm not even sure which one is "posing" for the picture. 

xoxo
Ice Princess