I cannot control my children...and perhaps will not

This may not come as a surprise to anyone, other than myself... and actually I had an inkling. Last night, coming home from Miller Creek we saw some wild turkeys and Reno and I decided they were running from us so they wouldn't end up in our turkey sandwiches. Effie digested this information and promptly announced she would not eat any more animals. I didn't take it too seriously, and she didn't either as she inhaled her chicken nuggets at lunch today, but the seed was planted and I am a little worried that when she realizes that it actually came from an animal we will have a revolution. Bring it on, little girl.
Back to me, and my lack of control on the little people I created. Reno drew a whale and some people riding on his back (his interpretation of Surf's Up) on the wall at his daddy's office today and Ava threw a tantrum and went to bed without finishing her banana (and could therefore not have the chocolate chip cookies she was really after). In contemplation I understand that my job is not to control who they are and what they become, however it is becoming more clear that each day's events shape their personalities and outcomes. So my job is to what? Let her be a vegetarian? Not likely(I am kidding, but I will do my best to persuade her). I go forth from this moment with a new resolve to provide a creative outlet for that little artist as well. As for the fruit before sweets rule, I cannot budge. Its for your own good Ava.

I am stressed...according to Dr. H

Yeah, so that rumor turned out to be only that-unless my doctor is wrong too. So we will table that idea, and chalk it all up to stress, which is the best suggestion he can offer. I also wonder why they go to school at all, with all we don't know why this happens, or how it happens, or this is common in children this age (referring to Effie now). Same with when you actually are pregnant, and you get a funny rash or a pain in an odd body part, the answer is the same--"sometimes when a woman is pregnant, these things happen," so now the baby can be blamed for a doctor not being able to properly diagnose your symptoms. But as soon as you have the baby, those same symptoms (headaches, in this particular example) are easily explained and cured. Perhaps the reason is that a pregnant women can take almost no medication beyond Tylenol and it is therefore easy to just have the mother grin and bear it since it isn't life threatening.
To close this little rant, I will say that I am actually grateful for doctors and all their expertise. I just get a little tired of Reno's doctor asking me if he has asthma or not, cuz isn't that his job? Anyway, and as for the thing that is not to be, it will be soon enough so just hold that thought for a month or two.

There may be something there that wasn't there before

We are in our second and final week of Dance Camp; this week is the Nutcracker, sort of a Christmas in July kind of a deal. I will actually be glad when we can just start the normal dance schedule in September. Two in preschool, one in ballet, and one in gymnastics (if he has his way, as dance is for girls, but he would like to do gymnastics)-we will be like a normal family, with places to go and schedules to keep-note that I said like, because we will never be normal. It will be interesting to say the least.

And on another note-there is the little something that is not quite real yet but real enough to cast a shadow over every space it touches. I try to spring clean (I know it is summer, but we who have small children are given leeway concerning actual seasons, and cleaning itself for that matter) and waver between storing things that will one day belong to a little something and keeping them out. I want to eat (its more than that really), but a little something keeps rejecting my ideas in favor of cookie dough and pizza--anything that doesn't actually have to been cooked as the effort becomes too much for the both of us. I want to sleep or need to be up, and there is always a little something throwing off my schedule. Then again, this is all just an unconfirmed rumor, but the thought of another little something has turned my world around... not an unwelcome turn mind you. Until then, I will live in the shadows it casts, and pick out names (Levi, Tate, Reid, Livy, or Rory perhaps).

It begins

Effie stepped into a new world this week as she became a ballerina princess in her "Be a Princess" dance camp. It was five days of ballet slippers, leotards, and slicked back ponytails and buns, pulled tight by a frustrated and perhaps slightly sweaty mom who just wanted her daughter's baby-fine and stick straight hair to look perfect. I easily ignored her tears and pleading that I was hurting her. Which brings me to my point. It has begun. For me, not so much her. I can already see her at fifteen, in her pointe shoes, bitter and emaciated (bulimia or anorexia?), hating me and ballet. Not that I want this or the eating disorder, which I do take seriously (not a problem for us at this point though). But will I be the mother who pushes her daughter? I only ask because I really want her excel. I want to see her in pointe shoes and defying gravity. Not to the point that I would force her, but I just honestly think that ballet is so amazing and can see myself walking a fine line. I guess its good for me that she loves to do it, and by the time she is done with it, I will be happily able to obsess about her playing softball or barrel racing, or cheer leading, or maybe something cool I don't even know about. Anyway, I will keep control of my emotions and projecting and vicarious living. But she cannot escape the tight ponytails. On that issue I will not budge--also it is a requirement of the studio, so I have principle on my side (this time!).

We are a happy fam-i-ly

Adding pictures to my site is more complex than I expected, so for now, I will leave this picture of our family in the post and will work on a more permanent solution another time.

This is an order...

Since tomorrow is the Fourth of July, listen to the song on my playlist. You will get to hear a great song and I will pretend that you all know who he his and love him.

There is no justice (at least for now)

So Reno fears tornadoes and I was thinkin that I could help him by showing him what they looked like, because up until now its only a word that means terror. So we start looking at the YouTube videos of tornadoes and what pops up during a video? Wait for it... yeah you guessed. A picture of a clown with sharpened teeth so frightening that I almost started shrieking--I know it was Pennywise and that just opens up a whole bunch of locked doors in my mind. Controlling my own fear, I grabbed his head and forced him not to look as I removed the picture. About that time he starts screaming and crying thinking I have scared him on purpose. So one, there is no justice in that I was truly trying to allay the fear that Jason unwittingly created and have now caused a terror for Reno, that is in my mind a whole lot more valid than an act of nature. That which is unnatural always did pose a greater threat to my fragile psyche. I mean come on, I still have rules for my monsters. And two, there is no justice in this world for the *!#%$&^ who put that right in the middle of that tornado footage. You cannot fathom the depth of my anger at the fact that he has fear because someone else decided to scare him. But I have learned a lesson. At least it wasn't something sexual because that would have bothered me more. But still.

A few notes...

Hi Linds, I love you too and does your mom know what you are up to on the internet little girl? Yes, well good then. Tell Seth and Tuey lol. Also, that I ate about four brownies yesterday. Seth will understand, Tuey I am certain will not.
And to Auntie, when I first looked up Singin in the Rain on the playlist site I was upset to see Sinatra and almost passed it by cuz I was annoyed to think that he had covered it--I like him but some things should be left alone. But I gave it a listen and was satisfied with what I heard. I ignore the mis-credit. And to Big Tymers- I am not sure about the Gilligan's Island part, but its a song Chick and I loved when we were big timers in California and brings back a few memories. I am not sure what memories I would conjure up if I heard the Gilligan's Island song, but it can't be good. My childhood, summertime, mother, sibling rivalry, and of course the Skipper...I don't like the direction this has taken. So I will stick to my little thug song. And also, I echo others when I say that I am not content reading your comments. I would like to read your blog so get to it.