A First

Alyssa came home one day last week and said that her friend, T, kept asking her (Alyssa) to come over to her (T’s) house and spend the night.

I asked Alyssa if this is something she actually wants to do or if she wants me to be the mean mom and say she can’t.

She gave it some thought and decided that yes, she really did want to spend the night with her friend T.

And here is where my own neuroses come in. I am vaguely relieved that Alyssa’s first sleepover experience with a non-related person is with this particular friend. And why am I relieved, you ask? Because I’m a horrible person who doesn’t not trust teenage boys around my nine year old daughter (and I won’t trust them when she’s 16 or even 19 but we’ll face that when we have to.) T’s mom is a widow and T has an older sister.

So, that means there are no strange men or boys whom I’ve never met around my sleeping daughter.

I know. It’s probably crazy to worry about that but I can’t help it.

And those of you with sons, I’m sorry for feeling this way. I know that YOUR sons are awesome, wonderful people who would never hurt anyone. I do know this. But I don’t know the brothers of her friends and so I don’t trust them. I’m sorry for that but there it is.

She came home last night and announced, “T wants me to spend the night this Friday.”

She looked at me expectantly. I asked again if she actually wanted to do this. She swears she does.

So I called T’s mom to make sure this wasn’t something A and T had cooked up between them or if T’s mom was in on the whole thing.

She is. She’s also okay with the fact that bedtime might roll around and Alyssa might need me to come get her.

So we’re going to give it a try.

My baby is growing up and it scares the crap out of me.

Game Night

The moment I mentioned that Alyssa that I wanted to have a game night with her each week in 2013, she latched on to that idea and clung tight. Because I mentioned the idea two weeks before 2013 even started, we actually managed to get two game nights played in 2012.

Alyssa craves my attention. She believes, with her whole little heart that Olivia get the majority of my attention and when you’re ten, attention might as well be love. And her perception is her truth, that I can’t deny. I can tell her over and over that I don’t think I give O more attention but if Alyssa sees it that way, it is that way for her.

I don’t think she consciously believes that I love Olivia more than I love her. At least I hope she doesn’t think I love her sister more. But Alyssa definitely keeps track of the things I do for her sister and is good at making sure she gets her share of me.

I’m okay with this. I understand that sometimes actions are more important than words and just because I tell her I love her all the time, having me show it through touches, snuggles and yes, game night mean so much to her.

So we’ve played. We’ve played Yahtzee, Life (the game of), Jumanji, and this past Saturday, IUopoly (the Indiana University version of Monopoly.)

After our two and a half hour game, which ended only because the bank was out of money, Alyssa leaned back with a satisfied sigh and said, “Now I know why you wouldn’t want to play games every night. That was a lot of work.”

She’s a smart one, that girl. And I hope she grows up knowing how lucky I feel to have her here, wanting my attention, my love, my devotion. I hope she knows how much of all that she’s got, that she’s had it all since before she was even born.

The Bare Minimum

It's been one of those weekends where I think I've managed to do the least amount possible and not feel like I've completely ignored all my responsibilities.

I wo'nt list everything that did get done but I'm also not going to list everything that went undone.

Sometimes, we just need to slow down and if the kitchen doesn't get mopped...well, so be it.

Maybe it's because this is my first weekend home on my new eating plan. But ugh, I kind of am not happy about it all. During the week, it's fine, no big deal but here at home? It sucks.

We're not exactly wallowing in filth around here, though, so no worries. And everyone is being fed and even tickled now and then.

I'm just adjusting. Maybe not even well.

Sigh.

An Exercise in Bowling

I think I mentioned that we took the girls bowling on New Year’s Eve. We got there just about when the alley opened, around 1:00pm, thinking we needed to get there early to be sure we didn’t have to wait for a lane.

Ha. Hahahahaha. There was one other group of four people bowling. The lady behind the counter asked us if we had a specific lane we wanted.

I managed to not laugh and said instead, “This is her first time bowling. Like, ever.”

I pointed to Alyssa, who is currently four feet, eleven and a half inches tall. She’ll be ten next week and she’s aching to be five feet tall.

The bowling alley lady asked if we wanted bumpers.

Tom said he didn’t think Alyssa needed them.

I disagreed. I mean, remember that point I made about her never having bowled before?

The lady put us on a lane that has bumpers but didn’t put them up for the first game.

Olivia couldn’t hold the four pound ball in her tiny, weak little hands so she just drank a fruit punch and ran around in her socks, declaring often that she was quite glad that her socks had ‘grippies’ so she didn’t fall on the slippery, slidy floor.

Alyssa’s first game of bowling ever ended with a score of 21. Let’s remember that was without bumpers. She was actually pretty happy with that score. I was proud of her.

Tom went up and asked that the bumpers be put up for her. And okay, for me too. My score that first game? A paltry 98. I know. I was ashamed of myself. So close to 100 but…not quite.

Let’s not talk about Tom’s score. I’ll just say that his increased from game one to game two, as did mine and Alyssa. Alas, Tom didn’t actually need the bumpers to help in that endeavor.

Alyssa’s second game ended with a score of 54. She’s awesome that girl. Though, she did manage to bowl a couple of gutter balls even with the bumpers in place. She was so proud of herself for more than doubling her first score.

She wanted to play a third game but we stopped at two. My thumb was starting to hurt and I knew that since we didn’t do this very often (ever?) I’d probably feel the pain brought on by different yet repetitious movement the next day. All that and Olivia’s fruit punch was gone.

The next morning, Alyssa rolled out of bed with a groan. She said her calves hurt. And then she walked around the house like a ninety year old woman for the rest of the day.

I laughed as I told Tom that she’s not used to sore muscles. When you’re not quite ten but usually very, very active, you don’t tend to get sore muscles all that often. But bowling apparently used muscles in her legs that don’t often get a workout. Poor kid. I gave her some Tylenol and told her to walk it off.

I, on the other hand, managed to avoid any muscle soreness. I know, funny, huh?

We all had so much fun bowling that I hope we’ll make it a family tradition to go bowling on New Year’s Eve. I can just see us dragging a mopey 17 year old Alyssa with us, her grumbling the entire way about how lame it is to have to spend a couple of hours with her stupid, OLD parents and her annoying little sister.

I also hope that next year, when she’s SEVEN, Olivia’s hands (and arms..and legs?) will be strong enough for her to roll a four pound ball down the lane. It could totally happen.

Mama is Mean

Last night, as is usual, Olivia came to join me in my little twin bed at about 11:15. She snuggled in, resting on my arm and went right back to sleep.

I had a blanket over my eyes to block the light of the alarm clock. Why do they make those numbers so big and so bright? Ugh!!

About an hour later, I rolled away from her, my arm aching from being straight and having the weight of her head on it.

Ten minutes after I rolled away from her, Olivia sat up and asked, “Can you help me find my ballet slipper? I lost it.”

And, well, I’m ashamed to admit that I sort of lost it too. I became irrationally angry when she made that request.

I was tired, it was just after midnight and I was so angry that I was awake. I muttered, “Why do you keep waking me up? Why is that slipper that important? Go back to sleep!”

Then I stormed from the room (I’m so very mature.) I made my way to the bathroom by the glaring light of the alarm clock.

And once in there, I heard Olivia burst into tears. Damn. She threw herself off the bed and followed me into the bathroom, wiping her tears and sniffling.

At first, I was still so angry I didn’t even want to look at her. She’s six years old. I think she should be sleeping through the freaking night without any help from me. I think that waking me up to find a ballet slipper that had fallen between the bed and the wall to nestle on the floor beneath the bed was a bad choice on her part.

But I also know she’s not a typical six year old. And she’s used to me being more pleasant in the night (most of the time.) She didn’t know that the simple request would make me lose my mind.

I picked her up and carried her back to bed. But I didn’t snuggle her close or even wipe her tears for her. I just muttered, “Go back to sleep.” I said this after I fished her ballet slipper out from under the bed.

An hour after that, I left her in the twin bed and went to the mattress on the floor. There I slept fitfully for about two hours before she joined me. At that point, she told me her pull up was disgusting.

I told her to take it off, then. And the guilt hit. I rolled over to find her taking it off. I helped and then did pull her close, my hands warming the chilled skin on her legs.

I want to be a good mom. I want to be kind and loving and sympathetic.

But I also want to sleep. She’s six years old. Waking me up four times in the night is not okay, not anymore.

Tonight, I’m going to try and lay down some rules and then I’ll try to be kindly consistent with them. I don’t want to be mean in the night. I don’t want to make my little girl cry. But I do want her to sleep and only come to me when she really, really needs me, like if she’s sick or if she’s had a bad dream. Finding a lost ballet slipper at 12:30am is not an emergency in my book. But I do realize it was one to her.

So it continues.

And yes, I need to get a new alarm clock, one that doesn’t have enormous, insanely bright numbers. I’ve had this one for years and it’s only in the past month or so that the light and size of the numbers has bothered me. I must be getting cranky in my old age.

Diet vs Exercise

I’ve been told quite often by people who think they know that the best way to lose weight is to exercise.

Those people who think they know? They are men. They think they know better than I do what works for my body.

Okay, I’ll be honest. My husband is one of those people. He honestly believes that exercise is very, very important and he feels that if a person is active enough, they can eat whatever they want and maintain a svelte, healthy physique.

I disagree with him vehemently and I’m not afraid to tell him so.

See, way back when I was in my last year of college, I worked out every single day. I got up around 6am and went to the IU’s health and fitness facility and worked out.

And I’ll say right here that I hated every single minute of it. I hated it so, so much.

But I did it because at the time I bought into the idea that exercise is more important than diet.

So I’d work out every morning and I’d go back to my residence hall and I’d eat breakfast and then I’d go back to my room and sleep for another couple/few/several hours.

I was the maid of honor in Julie’s wedding that summer after our last year of college. When we went and got fitted for our dresses I assured the woman who was measuring me that the size she put on me wouldn’t fit come June because I was working out. I was just sure, so very, very sure that I’d be at least one size smaller by the time the wedding date rolled around.

Imagine my surprise and complete dismay when the wedding date did finally roll around and there I was, fitting perfectly into the size 14 that the woman at the dress place had put me in several months ago.

I decided then and there that exercise sucked. It absolutely wasn’t worth the effort if it didn’t even give me the results I’d been promised.

That summer, I stopped exercising and I also sort of stopped eating. Not really. But kind of. I went on a pretty calorically restrictive diet.

And I lost weight. I lost a lot of weight.

That settled it. I realized that the myth of exercise doesn’t work for me the way that the fact of calorie control does.

Which is why I started the South Beach diet today but I have no plans whatsoever to start an exercise program. I will lose weight for my brother’s July wedding and I’ll do it my way.

I know that Jillian Michael’s would kick my butt for saying all this but for me, it’s true.

Okay, so maybe, just maybe, once July gets here and I’ve managed to be at least one size smaller than I am today, I’ll consider adding some exercise into my schedule. I know it can’t hurt and it might actually help.

But I make no promises.

2013: A Look Forward

Ahh, a new year. New resolutions, new goals, new dreams.

2013 promises to be a wonderful year.

Alyssa will turn ten in a couple of weeks. Double digits, dudes! She's planning a gymnastics party. Should be great fun. She has some pretty terrific friends and we're excited about her party. This will be her last year to be able to show her age on two hands. Luckily, she actually speaks these days and so holding up fingers isn't quite as necessary as it was a few years ago.

My brother is getting married in July. I'm finding that helping plan a wedding is way more fun when it isn't my own. Angel, my future sister-in-law is so sweet and easy-going. I did tell her that if she feels like I'm being pushy or channeling our lovely Aunt Lorry, who is wonderful and generous and bossy as hell, she (Angel) should tell me. I promised not to be offended.

2013 Resolutions:

-Game night with Alyssa each week. We're going to shoot for Saturday afternoons/evenings but if it happens on Sunday or even during the week once in awhile, that's fine too. As she gets older and more independent, I realize how much I want to keep her close, to keep her talking to me and knowing I'm here. Having these evenings playing games will keep us connected and we both need that.

-Date night with Tom once a month. Wouldn't that be lovely? Even if it's just asking my mom to keep the girls on a Friday evening and we get Subway and sit at home watching Rambo, I want to stay connected with him. I know that my marriage is important and I'm trying to make it a priority. Motherhood has been pretty intense these past ten years and I think there have been more than a few times when my husband has felt as if he comes third in my world. I'd like to change that for all of us.

I hope to continue the routines we formed last year, the reading to Olivia and the donations to Reece's Rainbow. Those are important things and I know I can make them happen. I already did for a year and it was wonderful.

As far as weight loss, I've already said I don't want to resolve to make that happen. I plan to start phase one of South Beach tomorrow. Today is our last calorice free-for-all. Tom's bringing me home a Dr. Pepper because he's just that kind of awesome husband.

Tomorrow I'll be packing the Excedrin and the salad fixings. To be honest, I'm actually looking forward to the new eating plan. I'm already picturing myself thin. And isn't that half the battle?

I'm so excited for this new year. We've always liked the number 13 around here.