decluttering
Packing is a strange thing, I think.
The first pass was fine- I pulled out clothes and books and videos and small appliances and other items and packed them away. The first pass covered our most used and most needed things. The second pass was also pretty much fine, although I started to touch on some of those strange parts of packing, where you come across all that stuff you have that isn't essential to your day to day life. The old letters and cards, the clothing you haven't worn in months or years, the old school books and papers left over from college, Josh's snowboard and
rollerblades. Many of these things are sentimental, or are used rarely, but we're still unwilling to get rid of them.
And then there are those items in perfect condition, gifts or something that cost a legitimate amount of money. I don't need them, but how could I possibly get rid of them? I need a professional packer who would come over and point out what is junk and what isn't, and what I'm holding onto for the wrong reasons.
I'm trying my best to weed out the
unnecessaries now, rather than move them AGAIN, but it is hard hard hard. I'm sure I won't miss whatever I give away, and that is my mantra as we near the final stretch.
Labels: moving on up (or at least out)
always looking forward
My mother in law is coming this afternoon to help and I may fling myself at her feet in gratitude when she walks in the door. I'll be doing the packing, but she has agreed to watch the children and also to patch up all the holes left by paintings and drapery rods. I also talked her into raking all the leaves that we are never going to have time to rake before the move on Thursday.
This is crazy! We're so close!
I took a book out of the library for Gabe about moving called "Goodbye, Hello" and it tells the story of a little girl's move from her old apartment into a new house. I sat down and was reading it to him while the little girl said goodbye to her old room and her old walls and her old friends and her old neighborhood and on and on, and then she moves and is very sad.
Gabe was paying attention, but really could have cared less because all he can talk about is his new playroom and his new room and his new big rock in the front yard and the swing set I promised him. Anyway, I'm reading through all the goodbyes and then... I started BAWLING. I'm totally crying through the book and trying to hide it and Gabe is looking at me like, what is your problem lady?
It turns out that amidst all of this excitement is a lot of sadness too. I can't wait to move, but this is the house where I brought home my babies! This was my first home with Josh! Gabe and Josie both took their first steps here! I love it! It is a lovely, wonderful, happy home, and I'll be so sad to leave it. I'm consoled by the fact that my friends have told me that once I move, I'll never look back, but still. For now, I'm sad.
So I'll be putting the "Goodbye, Hello" book away for now, not because of Gabe, but because clearly it is too traumatizing for ME. He's not the looking back type anyway, like soooo many other moments in life, Gabe is ready before I am.
Labels: gabrielicious, moving on up (or at least out)
like college, only more stressful
Back to the preschool drama for a moment, if you all don't mind.
No, nothing new has happened, but I've been surprised at how many of you think I should switch him from this toddler program. In theory, I'd love to grab him and run since I have a burning hatred of confrontation, but I also have been feeling guilty because I can't teach him that running away is the right answer to a problem.
Yes, I'm upset, and yes, I think the director acted inappropriately, and yes, I'm uncomfortable with what may be taking place going forward. I am relatively confident, however, that his teachers are okay with Gabe. They said repeatedly that his behavior is typical for a 2 year 10 month old, and every day when I come they are adamant that he had a great day. He seems happy with the program and I've been inquiring more often lately about whether he likes his teachers, does he have friends, what does he do, how does he feel. I'm treading lightly here, since I don't want to give him a complex, but I also want to make sure I am actually hearing what is going on.
We aren't moving far away from our current town, just a few miles down the road. It will be a bit of a trek to keep him here at his school, but I think continuity is probably a good thing with all of these other changes. The drive will probably be 20-25 minutes in traffic, as opposed to 5-10 where we are now. Not ideal, but doable.
I'm going to think about other schools, in the meantime, and once we've made the move and I've seen what is going on at the toddler program over the next few weeks, I can always make a switch after the holidays, if it seems warranted. What do you think about that plan? Any thoughts?
Labels: gabrielicious
packing is my nemesis
OH MY GOODNESS, the packing, you guys. The packing is going to KILL ME. I have been nonstop packing for weeks, or at least that is how it feels, and there is no end in sight. I guess I can see that some progress has been made, but holy smokes, why do we have so much shit? I'm considering packing a little more and then calling the new owners and telling them we'll throw the rest in for free. They'll totally want all our junk, right?
Plus, Josh is wandering around the house and starting boxes left and right and then wandering away, and is currently outside the house looking in the shed doing God knows what, and I can't even yell at him because he has threatened to stop packing because I am too critical. I didn't know that asking someone to finish a box was critical. I also didn't know that asking someone not to dump out all their drawers on the bed and leave was critical. For your information, it is also critical to ask someone not to take all the pictures and mirrors off the walls until we have some boxes and/or open space in which to put them. FYI. All critical and not to be tolerated.
Oh
lordy. This is going to be a
loooonnnggg week.
Labels: moving on up (or at least out)
I'm kind of laughing, but kind of not
Gabe loves dinosaurs.
Loves dinosaurs, as in knows all the names of all the different dinosaurs and talks about them all the time and tells me how he wants to visit them and asks for stories about them and we often ride the "dinosaur train" through the "time tunnel" to meet different dinosaurs and have picnics. These picnics often include Frosty the Snowman, because didn't you know? Frosty also loves dinosaurs. According to Gabe, I mean.
Anyway, yesterday I'm flipping through channels and come across Jurassic Park (the movie) and said to Gabe, "Oh look! Dinosaurs!" Are you cringing yet? I didn't completely remember the movie, but it started off great with beautiful big dinosaurs off in the distance and then a triceratops up close (which he loved) and then... the jeep breaks down in the movie right in front of the Tyrannosaurus Rex pen and... yeah. Do you remember this part? This is the part where the Tyrannosaurus EATS A GOAT and FLINGS BODY PARTS from the goat over the fence, and then busts out of the fence and starts trying to EAT THE HUMANS and then ACTUALLY EATS A MAN and there are screaming kids and screaming adults and... oh geez. This may have been a bad decision.
I'm not totally paying attention to the movie at this point because super stellar parenting going on here, and Gabe starts saying, "Mommy? I don't want to watch the scary movie, Mommy. Please no scary movie Mommy." I change the channel quickly and say, "Oh, it's just a movie, just pretend, don't worry." and leave it at that.
So today, we meet up with friends and decide to go to the pet store nearby to check out the turtles and cats and birds and bunnies and all that. I'm excitedly telling Gabe about how we're going to see some animals, and doesn't that sound great, and we're going to have so much fun, and then he says, in a small small sad voice from the backseat, "I don't want to go see the animals, Mommy. When the animals come, the T Rex comes. No animals, please."
Mmm hmm. Mother of the year, right here. Damage control, please.
Labels: gabrielicious
draaaaaaaaama
I made an appointment with the director of Gabe's preschool on Monday because I wanted to get her thoughts on the tangled mess of preschools for next year. Before we even got on the topic of preschools, she asked me how I thought Gabe was doing at school.
Umm, fine? According to her, apparently not. Despite my asking every single day how his day has been when I pick him up, she went into a laundry list of complaints, including "wandering nonstop, beats to his own drummer, doesn't want to participate with set activities, doesn't sit still for circle time, doesn't want to do art projects, has trouble transitioning, etc".
I was... stunned. I couldn't even really respond, for a number of reasons, I guess. First, I don't do well with confrontation. Second, I was totally unprepared for this to turn into a parent-teacher conference. Third, this is ABSOLUTELY not the message I'd been receiving from his actual teachers. I left the meeting feeling totally upset and shocked and thrown off and not understanding what I was supposed to do about all of this information.
She didn't give me any tips of preschools, and now I had a whole list of "problems" I needed to address. She also went into a long discussion about how he wasn't getting enough discipline from me, and I needed to be stricter and more disciplined and the preschool I choose next year needs to be VERY disciplined to control him.
Umm, okay.
I stressed nonstop about this for the whole morning until it was pick-up time at his TODDLER PROGRAM, need I remind you. As I was getting his stuff ready, I told the two teachers about my conference with the director and about how I was stressed and confused since this wasn't the message I'd been receiving from them. They looked at each other strangely, and then told me they had no idea what I was talking about. According to them, he is perfectly fine. Developmentally appropriate, doesn't wander, doesn't have trouble with transitions, has plenty of lovely skills and strengths (none of which were mentioned in my earlier conference), and yes, he doesn't want to sit for circle time, but he's two. He isn't the only one.
Sigh. I felt relieved, albeit confused, and decided to just forget about it. As long as the teachers were assuring me he was fine, I would push it out of my mind for the interim, at least until we move, and hope it all blows over.
Well.
Today, I came to drop him off and the director asked to speak to me and laid into me about how she was "sorry I was angry with her, but she has been a director for XX number of years and she isn't going to lie to me about my child and she has been receiving horrible reports from the teachers, and she thinks I need to know about the problems." Imagine yourself a huge mess, a startled and upset me, and you have yourself our morning scene. She insisted on showing me the notebook on Gabe, which I read through and by the way, said NONE of the things she kept going on about, and she says it is because the other teachers haven't "caught these behaviors".
I finally started crying in the hallway and asking what her point was. Was she saying he had a problem? Did he have
ADHD? Did he need help? WHAT? She looked visibly stunned and softened a little and said no, not at all. He was perfectly normal. Definitely didn't have ADD or
ADHD and he was a typical and normal 2 year old and she didn't mean for it to come out so harsh. She just thought I needed to know these things so I'd have something to work on. I continued crying while she apologized and said that from now on she was going to make the teachers write a daily progress report on Gabe (which I don't want) and we would have an accurate picture of what he was doing every day. And that was that.
I left crying, and dreaded pick-up and seeing the progress report all day and have been sad about this all day long. I don't know what to think- is there a problem or isn't there? If he is typically developing, then what is the big deal? If he isn't, then why isn't everyone on the same page? The director certainly isn't going to back down on her stance at this point. She is adamant that Gabe is doing all of those things she mentioned and his teachers just haven't noticed it.
I'm tempted to pull him out of the school and go to a school closer to our new house, but I don't want to go down that road, and I also don't think this warrants a change of school, sad though I may be. Ugh, what a mess. I'm just praying it doesn't affect him, and hopefully none of the teachers take their annoyance out on him.
because I needed something else to freak out about
I got a letter late last week for jury duty. Jury duty.
For this coming Monday. As in, the Monday of the week I am moving out of this house, closing on this house, closing on the new house, and moving into the new house. Mmm hmm.
You're permitted one postponement for jury duty, but unfortunately, I've already submitted my postponement, because I was supposed to do jury duty about 2 weeks after Josie was born. That wasn't going to happen, and I could never have imagined this was the week I'd be moving.
I started scrambling to find a babysitter, trying to figure out how I could afford to take an entire day off from packing, and worst of all, how Josie was going to make it through an entire day without me, because she STILL won't take a bottle. The other day I left her with Josh for an afternoon while I attended a baby shower and she sobbed for two hours until I finally came home.
I didn't let myself contemplate the possibility of actually being PLACED on a jury, because I assumed between the moving and the breastfeeding, I'd be getting excused.
Thankfully, I called to ask about the process of getting excused, and how long I'd need to plan on being at the actual courthouse, and the kind, sweet, blessed woman with whom I spoke told me to get a letter from my pediatrician and fax it into the office explaining the breastfeeding situation. She said I didn't need to show up at the courthouse with the breastpump in hand, as I'd originally planned. I could get a medical exemption ahead of time, and it would be good for 3 years.
I got my letter, faxed it in, and I'm waiting to hear back, but my stress level has gone down 200%. Can you say "phew"?
Labels: ridiculosity
