Well the week at daycare last week ended smoothly. Sugarplum made 3 little friends that she has talked about and seems to have had fun with all her little projects. Each day we collect her work from her drawer which mainly consists of various colored worksheets, rubber stamp collages and even a dinosaur fossil. I'm still not sure what material they used exactly, but it looks like a fun project and Sugarplum was very excited to show it to me.
This week they are learning about community helpers. I'm sure I'll be able to extend the lessons at home and get her to help find toys in her room to donate. I'm getting tired of it looking like Toys R Us threw up in there.
She does miss her daycare and got a chance to talk on the phone to her daycare lady this weekend. She'll be excited to go back for the month next week and hopefully we won't have too many tears when it's time to say goodbye. There will be lots of changes to visit since Oma lives next door will be surely cushion the blow.
Looking through grown up eyes, her concerns and worries are so trivial, but to her they mean the world. If I do my job right, I'll ease her mind and spirit and she'll sail through this transition with only minor bumps and swells marking the passage along the way.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Toddler Diaries #1: Pre-school Days
dear blogland, it's been 2+ months since my last post, please forgive me. All two of you that read this blog. :)
For the past several months, Sugarplum has struggled with the rules at daycare. She has been testing the limits and boundaries with the daycare provider and the other kids. We tried everything we could think of to no avail. We found that on days there were no other kids at daycare, or just 1 or 2, were much better days. From that, I drew the conclusion that the issue for her is not necessarily the rules or other kids, but that she views the daycare lady's home as her space, her territory, and if she doesn't want to share she doesn't think she should have to.
I've got another think coming for her.
Pre-school is on the horizon for fall and I found a school near work that I really like. Best of all, the daycare lady is on vacation this week and next week, so she gets to try it out before she goes full time in September.
Yesterday was her first day. She made an easy transition in the morning and had no problems telling us goodbye and settling in. She even made friends with another little girl. Her favorite part of the day was recess and judging by the seat of her shorts, she had lots of fun on the slide.
Each child has a cubby and work drawer that the parents collect their things from. Yesterday the drawer contained a folder of info from the school, as well as 4 or 5 worksheets Sugarplum had done. They're learning about dinosaurs and community helpers these two weeks so she had several coloring pages with dinosaurs on them.
It's bitter sweet for her dad and I. We know she needs to make the transition, we found a way to make it work out financially and with working hours, and as exciting as it is to see her blossom and grow, it's a little sad too to know that she is slowly, going to begin growing away from us.
For the past several months, Sugarplum has struggled with the rules at daycare. She has been testing the limits and boundaries with the daycare provider and the other kids. We tried everything we could think of to no avail. We found that on days there were no other kids at daycare, or just 1 or 2, were much better days. From that, I drew the conclusion that the issue for her is not necessarily the rules or other kids, but that she views the daycare lady's home as her space, her territory, and if she doesn't want to share she doesn't think she should have to.
I've got another think coming for her.
Pre-school is on the horizon for fall and I found a school near work that I really like. Best of all, the daycare lady is on vacation this week and next week, so she gets to try it out before she goes full time in September.
Yesterday was her first day. She made an easy transition in the morning and had no problems telling us goodbye and settling in. She even made friends with another little girl. Her favorite part of the day was recess and judging by the seat of her shorts, she had lots of fun on the slide.
Each child has a cubby and work drawer that the parents collect their things from. Yesterday the drawer contained a folder of info from the school, as well as 4 or 5 worksheets Sugarplum had done. They're learning about dinosaurs and community helpers these two weeks so she had several coloring pages with dinosaurs on them.
It's bitter sweet for her dad and I. We know she needs to make the transition, we found a way to make it work out financially and with working hours, and as exciting as it is to see her blossom and grow, it's a little sad too to know that she is slowly, going to begin growing away from us.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Don't Micro-manage Me
Woot! Micro-Managing work harpy is NOT the shit!
So a few months ago, I finally got things changed up a bit at work and I am no longer having most of my work tasks being overseen by a micro-managing harpy. My boss was a bit concerned about whether or not I could really handle my job and how much I might have needed her oversight. I just had my focal review and low and behold, I am doing a good job and she has seen great improvement over the past couple months. She wasn't sure how the harpy filter may have been helping or huting my work. Yeah... kinda what I've been saying for the past year.
I hate that I had to struggle so much for her to listen but I'm glad she is seeing that what I've been saying is true. I work much better when I am actually given the responsibility of doing my job myself and not being questioned every 10 minutes by a micro manager about why I don't do it all HER way instead of my own.
What's even better is that now that the harpy's focus is off me, she can't toot her own horn about how she manages my work and has managed to make a couple good mistakes of her own. The evil part of me rejoices.. sometimes she needs to be taken down a peg or two and at least now my boss actually can see it for herself.
What I've learned though is that I DO NOT do well being micromanaged... so please don't... and think about it if you have employees who you feel you need to babysit all the time... maybe if you cut them a little slack, maybe they will shine rather than fail.
So a few months ago, I finally got things changed up a bit at work and I am no longer having most of my work tasks being overseen by a micro-managing harpy. My boss was a bit concerned about whether or not I could really handle my job and how much I might have needed her oversight. I just had my focal review and low and behold, I am doing a good job and she has seen great improvement over the past couple months. She wasn't sure how the harpy filter may have been helping or huting my work. Yeah... kinda what I've been saying for the past year.
I hate that I had to struggle so much for her to listen but I'm glad she is seeing that what I've been saying is true. I work much better when I am actually given the responsibility of doing my job myself and not being questioned every 10 minutes by a micro manager about why I don't do it all HER way instead of my own.
What's even better is that now that the harpy's focus is off me, she can't toot her own horn about how she manages my work and has managed to make a couple good mistakes of her own. The evil part of me rejoices.. sometimes she needs to be taken down a peg or two and at least now my boss actually can see it for herself.
What I've learned though is that I DO NOT do well being micromanaged... so please don't... and think about it if you have employees who you feel you need to babysit all the time... maybe if you cut them a little slack, maybe they will shine rather than fail.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Like Mother, Like Daughter
Sometime during the year that I was 3 I learned about the birds and the bees. I was a curious child and I asked my mother how babies got made. I was also tenacious because I was not satisfied with a simple when-mommies-and-daddies-fall-in-love-and-get-married-they-have-babies answer. I wanted to know the mechanics. "Yes... but.. HOW??" So she explained.
Apparently that trait has rubbed off on my princess. On the way home from daycare:
Sugarplum: Mom, before babies get born and you have a baby in your tummy, how does it get there?
Me: Umm... well.. that's kinda tricky.
Sugarplum: But how?
Me: Well... when mommies and daddies are grown up and fall in love and get married, they can make babies.
Sugarplum: HOW??
Me: Well... they can cuddle up together and use their private parts
Sugarplum: Private parts? What's that?
Me: Well.. you know.. your private parts.. when you go to the potty? Your body parts that no one touches?
Sugarplum: ok.... but I want to have a baby in my tummy while I'm young
Me: No baby, your body is not ready to have a baby in your tummy.
Sugarplum: YEEESSS!!!!!
Me: No baby.. you have to be a grown up.
Sugarplum: But I want when I'm young!!
Me: Well, you'll be young for a long time baby.
Next thing you know, she'll be asking me loudly in a crowded movie theater whether or not I masturbate. Like mother, Like daughter.
Stop laughing mom.
Apparently that trait has rubbed off on my princess. On the way home from daycare:
Sugarplum: Mom, before babies get born and you have a baby in your tummy, how does it get there?
Me: Umm... well.. that's kinda tricky.
Sugarplum: But how?
Me: Well... when mommies and daddies are grown up and fall in love and get married, they can make babies.
Sugarplum: HOW??
Me: Well... they can cuddle up together and use their private parts
Sugarplum: Private parts? What's that?
Me: Well.. you know.. your private parts.. when you go to the potty? Your body parts that no one touches?
Sugarplum: ok.... but I want to have a baby in my tummy while I'm young
Me: No baby, your body is not ready to have a baby in your tummy.
Sugarplum: YEEESSS!!!!!
Me: No baby.. you have to be a grown up.
Sugarplum: But I want when I'm young!!
Me: Well, you'll be young for a long time baby.
Next thing you know, she'll be asking me loudly in a crowded movie theater whether or not I masturbate. Like mother, Like daughter.
Stop laughing mom.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Personal Space
Sugarplum sometimes has trouble respecting personal space. She wants to climb on you to get your attention. She wants to sit in your lap or stand on your legs. This is all well and good if you're her parent but not so much if you are the 10 year old at the daycare lady's house after school and you're trying to do your homework.
So they've been talking about personal space. How everyone has some and how it needs to be respected. If someone asks her to move from in front of the TV she should. If they don't want to be tackled, she should not instigate a wrestling match.
Apparently SOME part of the message is sinking in, but it's still a work in progress. She seems to understand that her space should be respected but we're still working on the do unto others part.
Yesterday morning while I was in the bathroom getting ready for work:
Sugarplum's Dad: Good Morning baby
Sugarplum: Nooooo
Sugarplum's Dad: Can't I have a snuggle?
Sugarplum: No.. this is MY personal space. Move over Daddy!
So they've been talking about personal space. How everyone has some and how it needs to be respected. If someone asks her to move from in front of the TV she should. If they don't want to be tackled, she should not instigate a wrestling match.
Apparently SOME part of the message is sinking in, but it's still a work in progress. She seems to understand that her space should be respected but we're still working on the do unto others part.
Yesterday morning while I was in the bathroom getting ready for work:
Sugarplum's Dad: Good Morning baby
Sugarplum: Nooooo
Sugarplum's Dad: Can't I have a snuggle?
Sugarplum: No.. this is MY personal space. Move over Daddy!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Dreams of my Father
When I started up this here blog, it was to chronicle life with my daugther. My thoughts, my impressions, my experiences as her mother... but when I sit down to blog something.. it all flies right out the window. I think of some funny story to tell on the way to work or home from daycare and by the time I arrive at a computer, it's gone.
I've been off for a week and am catching up on my reader thinking I should find something to write about.. and then her post saved me... and I decided to steal a previous daily writing prompt.
*******
The year that I turned 8, I lived in Germany with my father and brother. I missed my mother terribly, but I would not trade that experience and can honestly say that living in another country made for one of the best years of my life. My mother knew it would which is why she let us go. She is so wise.
Before returning home in the summer of 1986, my father became sick. My mother came to pick us up and flew home with us in late July. My father followed a couple weeks later. He was home for a few days, maybe a week or two, before being admitted to the hospital. I think he was there for about two weeks or so.
One Saturday morning in September, the phone rang. Early. It was the hospital nurse calling for my mother. She left right away. Before heading out I asked her if I could come too. "Not this time. Maybe next time." It was always the same answer. So I poured a bowl of cereal and turned on cartoons waiting for my brother to wake up and join me.
When my mother returned home, we turned off the television. She told us that she was informed when she arrived at the hospital that she was 60 seconds too late. My brother went to his room. I began to cry as the information she had just given us sunk in. She took me to the backyard and told me to pick a cloud. She told me that from that day forward, he would always be there, behind that cloud, watching over me and protecting me.
It's been 22 years since my father died. I've dreamt of him twice. Neither of them were bad dreams, but after the first one, I woke up terribly upset. I missed him. I thought about how he wouldn't be able to take pictures of me in my prom dress. He wouldn't be there for any father-daughter dances. He wouldn't be able to give me away at my wedding. He wouldn't meet his grandchild(ren).
The second time I dreamt of him, I got to visit him in our house in Germany. The best part was that I got to hug him again. He had been dead in my dream, but somehow, we were granted a visit. I don't know if it's me reaching out, if it's completely manufactured, or if it's real. But some part of me got to visit my daddy again, even if it was only in a dream. I wish he could visit more often.
I've been off for a week and am catching up on my reader thinking I should find something to write about.. and then her post saved me... and I decided to steal a previous daily writing prompt.
*******
The year that I turned 8, I lived in Germany with my father and brother. I missed my mother terribly, but I would not trade that experience and can honestly say that living in another country made for one of the best years of my life. My mother knew it would which is why she let us go. She is so wise.
Before returning home in the summer of 1986, my father became sick. My mother came to pick us up and flew home with us in late July. My father followed a couple weeks later. He was home for a few days, maybe a week or two, before being admitted to the hospital. I think he was there for about two weeks or so.
One Saturday morning in September, the phone rang. Early. It was the hospital nurse calling for my mother. She left right away. Before heading out I asked her if I could come too. "Not this time. Maybe next time." It was always the same answer. So I poured a bowl of cereal and turned on cartoons waiting for my brother to wake up and join me.
When my mother returned home, we turned off the television. She told us that she was informed when she arrived at the hospital that she was 60 seconds too late. My brother went to his room. I began to cry as the information she had just given us sunk in. She took me to the backyard and told me to pick a cloud. She told me that from that day forward, he would always be there, behind that cloud, watching over me and protecting me.
It's been 22 years since my father died. I've dreamt of him twice. Neither of them were bad dreams, but after the first one, I woke up terribly upset. I missed him. I thought about how he wouldn't be able to take pictures of me in my prom dress. He wouldn't be there for any father-daughter dances. He wouldn't be able to give me away at my wedding. He wouldn't meet his grandchild(ren).
The second time I dreamt of him, I got to visit him in our house in Germany. The best part was that I got to hug him again. He had been dead in my dream, but somehow, we were granted a visit. I don't know if it's me reaching out, if it's completely manufactured, or if it's real. But some part of me got to visit my daddy again, even if it was only in a dream. I wish he could visit more often.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Legacy - Part 2
10 years ago this month, two deranged teenagers walked into their school at started shooting. Accounts of the Columbine Massacre are still so disturbing to me that I want to cry. I don't understand what drives people to commit such horrible acts. Afterward, I always wondered what their parents must have been going through. What signs did they miss? How was this not prevented? How were they so out of touch with their children that they didn't know how disturbed they were? I can only imagine what kinds of questions they have asked themselves over the past 10 years. What kind of guilt or remorse they must feel for what their children did.
Then there are family members of people like Lovelle Mixon who claim that their good for nothing criminal relatives are heroes. Lovelle Mixon was an animal. He had been convicted of many crimes. He was out on parole and shot and killed 4 police officers. The only good thing to come from that incident is that he was killed to. His DNA was recently connected to the rape of a 12 year old girl. How the hell can someone like that be considered a hero by anyone?
I am amazed at how vastly different some people's priorities can be... and how some are so completely indifferent about what an incredible job it is to raise children. We mold them, we shape them, their values, their morals. How did Lovelle Mixon's parents get so far off track to raise a son capable of raping a child and then killing 4 officers? Those sworn to protect us from ourselves.
It's a huge responsibility to raise our children... one that most of us take pretty seriously. They are a reflection of us in a lot of ways. My daughter is my legacy. I want her to be good.. compassionate.. responsible.. ethical.. what will your legacy be?
Then there are family members of people like Lovelle Mixon who claim that their good for nothing criminal relatives are heroes. Lovelle Mixon was an animal. He had been convicted of many crimes. He was out on parole and shot and killed 4 police officers. The only good thing to come from that incident is that he was killed to. His DNA was recently connected to the rape of a 12 year old girl. How the hell can someone like that be considered a hero by anyone?
I am amazed at how vastly different some people's priorities can be... and how some are so completely indifferent about what an incredible job it is to raise children. We mold them, we shape them, their values, their morals. How did Lovelle Mixon's parents get so far off track to raise a son capable of raping a child and then killing 4 officers? Those sworn to protect us from ourselves.
It's a huge responsibility to raise our children... one that most of us take pretty seriously. They are a reflection of us in a lot of ways. My daughter is my legacy. I want her to be good.. compassionate.. responsible.. ethical.. what will your legacy be?
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