She said "Penis"

The girls sat down at the table to wait for EN to return with dinner last night, when Spice suddenly grabbed a stick that had been attached to a balloon, stood on her chair, waved the stick around and said, “Bippity, boppity, boo, I’m going to turn you into a penis.” Of course the self-righteous Sugar was appalled at her sister’s potty mouth. She glared at me, clearly waiting for me to address the bad behavior of her devilish little sister. Spice, on the other hand, was delighted to have gotten a reaction and twirled on her chair (still standing) while waving the magic wand.

I was at a loss as to how to handle this one, so I asked, “Where did you learn that word?” Still twirling, she chirped, “Nicholas told it to me.” I told her that in the future, she should not make any attempts to turn her sister into a penis.

This is an area of mothering where the rules aren’t clear. Of course it’s not nice to try to turn your sister into a penis, or a frog, or a bug… no one wants to be turned into something with a negative connotation. So we have a rule: you can only “bippity boppity boo” your sister into something pleasant.

It’s the use of the P word that concerns me at this point. She obviously knows what it is. I know this because she shared her new-found knowledge with me in great detail. Is there supposed to be a ban on proper terminology? I could list off 1,000 other words that mean the same thing and certainly, those words are not appropriate. I wouldn’t let her use them EVER. I just don’t know how to address the vocabulary that Spice obviously uses for shock value alone. That mothering handbook isn’t helping me out here… How do you handle it?

The word has not been used again. This morning though, she bent her arm, pointed her elbow in my direction and said, “Doesn’t my elbow look like a boobie?”

Sigh.

xoxo

Ice Princess 

Messing Around

Instead of doing what I was supposed to do (homework) while EN took the girls ice skating today, I messed around with this blog. I changed all sorts of things and had many a temper tantrum while doing so. It wasn't pretty... Some of you fell victims to my rants via text. I thank you for texting back and telling me to JUST WALK AWAY. Instead of doing that, I picked up the damn laptop and shook it like an Etch-A-Sketch. That seemed to work.

So... tell me what you think of the new background, colors, etc. I've heard from some of you that the comments section isn't working properly. Please try again-click "Comment" and post as Anonymous. If that doesn't work, text me and I'll shake this computer again. ;o)

Now I'm off to do something productive. Like stalk the innocent via Facebook. I mean HOMEWORK!

xoxo
Ice Princess

A New Leaf

Sometimes it sucks to be right about something. Normally when I’m proven right, I gloat a little. I might let a “tee hee” slip out, or even a happy dance. Sometimes I feel bad for being right, only because I occasionally say something really mean-spirited and don’t want it to be right, but…

EN told me earlier this week that Thanksgiving dinner at his mom’s would be at 1:00. I was a snide bitch and said, “Sure. We won’t eat until 3:00. We’ll go there early and be held captive in the house with your sister and her husband.” Sure enough, dinner was served around 3:30. I was a polite and pleasant guest, I said nothing untoward to anyone, not even to my brother-in-law, who drives me batshit crazy almost the instant I lay eyes on him.

This is all in effort of turning over a new leaf. I am opinionated and will sometimes let my opinions bubble to the surface and the innocent know what I am thinking. Not any more. I am doing my best to keep my mouth shut. For example, yesterday when my sister-in-law wasn’t paying attention and her baby’s head hit the table, I said nothing. When she told a story about her husband dropping the baby off at daycare with poop going up his back (he didn’t know diapers could leak?!), I said nothing.

I’ve taken this stance with my own family as well. When my mother rants about the argument she’s had with her sister, I murmur sympathetically. When my sister’s son behaves rudely and is still up at 1 am, I say nothing.

Nor will my friends get an earful from me when they say or do something I disagree with. When they treat their spouse in a way that I don’t like, then come back to the marital home expecting sunshine and roses, I smile and nod. The next time a friend sleeps with another friends husband, I will say nothing… until that friend starts working over my husband, then the gloves are off!

You get the point.

This doesn’t mean, however, that my opinions aren’t rumbling around in my head, ready to spew forth. That’s why I have EN. He is aware of my opinions, thoughts, rants. He’s the only one that REALLY knows how I’m feeling about things. And if there ever comes a time that my friends stop hearing from me altogether, all the polite, thoughtful, fluttery niceties that I vow to say, it’s because EN has stopped listening and I’ve spontaneously combusted.

Or maybe I'll just keep blogging.

xoxo

Ice Princess 

Not Home for the Holiday

With the exception of two Thanksgivings, I have never hosted or cooked the entire dinner. The first time was the year that I met EN. I cooked dinner for the two of us and we ate and watched movies all day. What’s memorable about that day is that I made EN wash out the turkey, which he did, then proceeded to dance it around my kitchen. A floor show for my two dogs. I swear they sat there and laughed. The following year, we hosted Thanksgiving for all of our friends that had no place else to go. That year goes down in history as The Year that EN Locked the Turkey in the Oven. It’s a very funny story now, but I wasn’t so amused when he did it. To this day, I think long and hard before asking for his help in the kitchen.

Since then, we’ve had some great Thanksgivings, and some that left much to be desired. The year I was pregnant with Sugar, we went to Alabama to spend the day with EN’s dad, stepmother and half sisters. The holiday wasn’t terrible as I really enjoy his dad and sisters. The worst part was that I was pregnant and really craving my mother’s cooking and yummy desserts. Every dessert his stepmother served had pumpkin in it. Of course in this fancy house, one does not decline dessert entirely. I mashed up that pumpkin cheesecake until it looked like I had eaten some of it.

Two years ago, we went to Disney for Thanksgiving. We spent nearly ten days there with ENs dad and family. EN Senior had gotten remarried a year or two before and there was a new stepmother on the scene. We love this woman madly so the vacation was fun for everyone. We planned on going to Perkins for Thanksgiving but one of EN’s sisters balked at the plan. My new mother-in-law (given that we are very close in age, she LOVES when I call her that!) stepped up and made us all a fabulous dinner. AND we got to have cake for dessert, no crappy pumpkinish substances that year!

It should be noted here that we alternate Thanksgiving every year between my family and ENs. It should be further noted that ENs mother was pissed that we dare spend “her” year with evil EN Senior and his Evil Family. Holidays had never mattered to this woman before. As a matter of fact, many of ENs friends’ wives were shocked to learn at our wedding that he actually had a mother in the local area. He had always been the orphan that they brought along on their own family holidays. Suddenly, she’s decided that she is the Queen Mother and needs to be treated as such.

This year, we get to go to the Queen Mother’s house for dinner. I am less than thrilled with the idea, but fair is fair. I will prepare my contributions and we will go. We will eat, drink and be merry. And when all is said and done we will beat feet out of there and have dessert with my family. Maybe some leftovers too, because no matter where we spend the holiday, it’s just not Thanksgiving unless I get to have some of my mother’s stuffing.

xoxo

Ice Princess

Soccer Moms

Soccer Moms: a bullshit statement. Work with me here folks, I’m channeling Marisa Tormei’s line in My Cousin Vinnie… “that’s a bullshit question!” And yes, when I typed that, I said it out loud in my head, New York accent and all. Now back to the Soccer Moms…

As I’ve mentioned before, Sugar has been involved in many team and individual sports. The only rule is that she has to stick with the sport for the time period we sign up for. Within every single one of those sports, I have seen the dreaded “Soccer Mom” behavior. The adult that complains loudly to everyone near them that the cherub they’ve come to see isn’t being played enough, not given enough chances, other kids are less talented and being played more, the list goes on… Again, this is every sport, not just soccer.

And it’s not just the moms, there are soccer dads, aunts, uncles, grandparents, nosey folk who stop to watch the game in progress. Kids see that level of competitiveness and I’m sure they feel it.

On Saturday, Sugar skated in her first solo skating competition. As far as I am concerned, she did fabulously and she placed in third, out of three. A disappointing finish, I whispered to myself in my head, but I’m not going to get in a frenzy over it. I didn’t see the other skaters she was up against. I was too busy congratulating Sugar for competing, remembering her routine, smiling and not peeing on the ice, crying or falling.

However, Soccer Dad, Soccer Auntie and Soccer Grandparents, had a few words to say. Nothing was said in front of Sugar, of course, but everyone was upset. Even her coach pulled EN aside and complained about the judges. I am forever thankful that the adults that came to watch Sugar behaved themselves in front of her and cheered on her 3rd place finish like she had just beat out Nancy Kerrigan and Michelle Kwan. 

Sugar attended the awards ceremony and she and her mother smiled happily at her bronze medals. I glanced around at the other people watching their own children and couldn’t help but notice one mother in particular. Her daughter came in third in her group and the mother had a frosty “not good enough” smile pasted to her face. This was the same mother that tortured her daughter in the locker room, fluffing her hair, redoing her makeup, not letting her eat or play with the other skaters… When did we stop having fun? Isn’t that really the point here? In my jaded view, it’s all about letting the child perform to the best of their ability and celebrating their success in making it through. We have years to go before we worry about Qualifying At Important Events, or whatever it is that comes next. For now, lets choose a fun song, practice a routine that makes us smile and skate like no one’s watching. 

xoxo

Ice Princess

Secret Addiction

I find it endlessly annoying that retailers are now putting up Christmas items BEFORE Halloween even. Can’t we buy our vampire blood without some plastic Baby Jesus looking over our shoulders?

Over the last week we have also been inundated with “Super Duper Early Black Friday Specials.” C’mon folks, Black Friday is the Friday after Thanksgiving. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. If you want to have a sale, have one, but leave Black Friday for next week. Please.

While I hate that the shopping madness is creeping into our lives earlier and earlier, I must confess that I love Christmas music and could listen to it all year long. It was very exciting then, when I heard on my Sirius station that they have two channels of Christmas music. I tuned right in.

I’m particular about my Christmas music. I don’t like songs about donkeys named Dominic or grandmothers getting run over by reindeer, but I’ll laugh hysterically at Adam Sandler or Jeff Foxworthy.

I like modern versions of songs and will only rarely listen to Bing Crosbyish music. I don’t think there’s a single version of “Little Drummer Boy” that I don’t like and “Mary’s Boy Child” by Boney M is one of my favorites. Two years ago I was lucky enough to see Trans-Siberian Orchestra, and they are now a favorite too. And Jon Bon Jovi is welcome to beg me to come home this Christmas any old time, but he better answer the damn door the next time I do.

Sugar and Spice are also huge fans of Christmas music. Sugar will even play one of her Christmas CDs through the year. “Santa Baby” in July… why not?

I don’t know what it is about Christmas music, it’s not that I’m wishing for all the busy-ness that comes with the holidays, getting gifts, anything like that. I won’t be trite and say that it’s “the message” from the music. I think it’s just the mood… it’s calming and peaceful. It just puts me in a good place.

Christmas music… heroin for my soul.

xoxo

Ice Princess 

Public Flogging

I’m the first to admit that I fly off the handle quickly, but do not always stick with the punishment that I set. I’m terrible at “punishing.” Mostly because I don’t like it. I don’t like to spank and I usually freak out enough that further punishment is not necessary. What I hate more than anything though, is the use of public humiliation as a form of punishment. Without even giving much thought, I can think of three instances in my life where I was publicly humiliated for doing something wrong:

1. In 8^th grade, I yawned in the face of my teacher without covering my mouth. It was rude, I was a polite kid, I don’t know why I did it. She screamed bloody murder at me. To this day, I’m a very polite yawner.
2. I worked at a supermarket for a short time and made the grave mistake of giving an elderly woman two grocery bags, so she could be balanced. The owner of the supermarket screamed at me in the front end of the supermarket. I walked out that day and never went back.
3. Another boss one time screamed down the hallway at me, “What are you, STUPID?”

These are very vivid memories, still painful after all these years. There’s a right way and wrong way to take someone to task. Those three examples are just WRONG.

Today I picked Sugar up from school and she tells me a long, rambling story about how she got in trouble at school and her teacher ripped up her homework, and the homework of eight others, in front of the entire class. At first, with Sugar’s constantly changing story, I was pissed at her for lying to me. Her story did not make any sense, especially because I had checked the homework the night before and it looked fine to me.

There was an event at school tonight and another parent approached me about the incident. Her child’s homework was also ripped up, but she was friendly with another mother whose child is in the class but not one of the nine that got into trouble. She called this other parent and found out that the teachers behavior bothered the entire class.  

Now that I had a bit more information, I got the straight story out of Sugar. Turns out, she misunderstood the second part of the assignment. She *thought* she did it right, but was wrong. The attempt was there, at the very least.

So now I’m pissed. This teacher humiliated my child (and others) in front of the entire class. Kids went home and cried about the incident. On so many levels, that just isn’t right. Of course, homework should be done completely and accurately, but is this really a way to teach a fourth grade class that they really need to get it right the first time?

Do I send in a note? Do I talk to the teacher? Do I chalk it up to the teacher just having a bad day? I’m at a loss.

Excuse me while I peruse the Mother’s Handbook that was given to me when my children were born. I’m sure there’s an answer in there somewhere.

xoxo
Ice Princess