DC Femella

Last night I was sleeping and dreaming about winning a race when I start hearing, “Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy…” At first, I thought it was part of the dream. There is no way that someone would interrupt this wondrous moment. After another few minutes of this mommy chant, I open one eye to see my son standing next to the bed. He kept going, and then I finally said, “WHAT!” He stops. Finally after a few seconds, he responds.

“Can you move over?”

I moved over. If it weren’t for the fact that I was half asleep, I probably wouldn’t have been as nice as I was.

How do kids have the stamina to keep repeating the same word over and over again? I don’t even think they breathe when they are doing this? I wonder what would happen if I kept repeating my kids’ names over and over again. Would they also try and ignore it before finally yelling “WHAT!?” Or would they respond in a calm and collected manner?

All I know is that as much as any parent tries to not yell at their kids, whenever they begin the mommy or daddy chant, a parent loses any composure he/she thinks he/she has.

Bang your head on a wall and call it a day.

Originally uploaded by Bernice Pipa

I am going to rant here about two things: 1. Why do people always want to start being insanely annoying when you are in a bad mood? 2. Why do my parents think that I have no job or something?

Today was rough. I was in back-to-back meetings, someone pissed me off to the ultimate core (my own expression), and my rigatoni that came out perfect fell in the sink. My parents don’t seem to understand that I have a busy life. I’m a single mother with a demanding job. I am sorry if I don’t call every hour. On top of that, I’m sorry that I don’t answer the five calls in a row you make when I am a meeting. Oh, and I love the five voicemail messages I get demanding why I never pick up the phone. CAUSE I’M IN A MEETING!

My mom last Tuesday had oral surgery. When I called my dad, he said that she couldn’t talk til Wednesday. On Wednesday, I was in meeting after meeting. When I get out of the 5th meeting, I have three calls waiting. I listen to the three voicemail messages (Side rant: Why leave three voicemail messages saying the same thing?) stating that I haven’t called my mom who is at home and she is hurt by that. I tell my dad that I will call her after the next meeting.

I call after I drop Isabelle off at ballet. He tells me that he doesn’t understand why I called when she can’t speak. I got irritated and said, “Then why are you trying to make me feel guilty about not calling and now are sitting here acting like you don’t get why I called?”

I go there on Thursday and spend time with my mom. My parents live in Woodbridge, which is super far, but I trekked that way. The kids and I don’t get home til 10PM. I go there all Saturday and just hang with her in bed. On Sunday, I stay there and talk to her, but then leave to go grocery shopping and get my kids and cousins from my sister’s house. My aunt never does anything fun with the kids, so I was nice enough to offer to take them back from Baltimore to Woodbridge and then to Fairfax. I drop my cousins off, and I go to my parents’ house to visit my mom. We don’t get home til 10 or so.

Today I was in meetings all day. I snuck to my spin class to release stress, but that was it. Then I had to deal with someone who shall remain nameless, and so I am not in the best of moods. I get home at 6pm, cook dinner twice (damn rigatoni), help the kids with homework, bedtime, and I am sniffling cause I am so ticked. I just lay down to think when I start getting the infamous repeated phone calls from my dad. After the fourth one, I answer.

He starts off with you have been such a good daughter, so we don’t understand why you haven’t called your mom. She is so sad that you haven’t called. I am annoyed because I called this morning, and I told my dad that I was going to be super busy with meetings today and all i had time for was to relay a message that my sister left me. I have talked to my mom about this before. The only way to contact me at work is via chat or email. That’s it?! This is how I communicate with her during the week, and I barely call. She also knows how much I HATE the phone. I planned on going there tomorrow and probably getting home at 10 p.m. or so.

I tell him that I am tired of this behavior. I have a job and have been in meetings, so why do they act like I am lounging at home doing nothing but staring at the ceiling? After awhile, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I just tuned him out. I am SOOOO happy that I was given the gift of selective hearing.

I need to relax. I am so tense right now that it’s not even funny. Now I feel like a bad daughter because I have meetings that I have to attend and have to focus on the children. I told L. that her parents depend on her too much, and she said mine do as well. I told her that she was wrong. I think that maybe I was the one who is wrong. I guess screwing my children’s schedule, driving hours, spending the weekend there and missing my place means nothing as long as I call ten times a day. Good to know.

I volunteered to be the teacher for the Greater Reston Arts Center (GRACE) program in Cebastian’s first-grade class.  Every month we feature a famous artist and teach the children about him/her.  Additionally, they create crafts, so they can further learn about the artist’s style.  I jumped at the chance because I love Art, and I want my children to have an appreciation for it.  If I am able to do that for them, I will feel that I achieved something.  Another reason why I volunteered is because I want my children to remember me there with them when they are adults.  In this way, they will hopefully be active participants in their own children’s lives. 

My mother never participated in anything, and I remember watching the other children’s moms with envy because I wished my mom would come and do something in my school.  Now that I am older, I know that it was because she was a working mother, and she didn’t have the chance to telecommute the way I do.  It’s one of the reasons I went into writing is because I wanted a flexible job that allowed me to work from home whenever I wanted, and in turn, I could do things with my children. 

The project was a success.  The children were really cute, and I felt happy being around them.  If you are ever in a sour mood, go do something fun with a child.  You will see a smile creep up on your face.  I’m glad that I had children, and I hope to have more one day. 

I leave you with my favorite Escher work of art.

Bond of Union

I leave you with these great links about the importance of Art in a child’s education:

http://www.atriskstoriesofhope.com/if-sir-ken-robinson-is-right-how-do-we-produce-creative-thinkers

http://www.aplaceofourown.org/question_detail.php?id=104

http://www.arvartscenter.org/education.htm

This past week Cebastian lost one of his top teeth.  It had been bothering him when he ate, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.  The dental guidelines that I read online said that parents shouldn’t force a tooth to come out, but it was super lose and he could barely eat.  On top of that, my mother yanked out all my teeth, and I came out ok.  I sometimes think these new guidelines that come out are ridiculous in some ways.  Anyway, back to my story. 

I grabbed some floss, looped it around, and wrapped it around his tooth.  After a few tries, the tooth came out.  Cebastian smiled a toothless smile, and I gave him some warm water and salt to gargle with.  We placed the tooth in a snack-sized bag that Cebastian quickly placed underneath his pillow.  I was a little worried how I was going to get up there being that he has a loft bed.  

A few hours later, I snuck in his room.  Luckily, he left it close to the edge, so I was able to quietly do the switcharoo. 

I want my children to believe that they live in a magical world where fairies, trolls, princesses, good witches, and mermaids live around us.  When I was a child, I loved the feeling of Santa Clause coming and giving me presents, and the tooth mouse (that is what it is in Panama) would take my tooth and give me price money. 

My mother said that when I was a little, I had such small teeth that she had a hard time finding them.  She said there was one time that I lost a tooth and for a few days, she couldn’t find the tooth, so she kept leaving money.  That was until she overheard me telling my older sister, “Anie, I am getting rich!  On purpose, I hide my tooth so the mouse will continue giving me money.”  The rouse was up, and no more money came my way.  I always snicker to myself thinking of my children doing that to me.

The next day when I was in the shower, I heard Cebastian excitedly call my name.  I opened the shower curtain, and in his hands were his $2.  In my time, I only got 25 cents.   He was so happy that the tooth fairy remembered him, and he placed his money in his piggy bank to save up for a game.