Nothing is Sacred; Nothing is Private

Back from the Hinterlands of Apathy

Hey all, (all two of you that even read this)

I know. I've been a bad blogger. I wish I could say that I was away being fabulous and busy and successful and could spare not even 5 minutes to post updates.

Alas, it was not so.


To show you what I mean, here is the list of activities since last June:

1. End of June: Once the kids finished school - which was nearly July for Christ's sake - we had about a week or so of do-nothing time before summertime activities were due to start. I could have gone to Connecticut to visit the folks (and probably really should have, since they haven't see the girls since June 2008), but opted not to, instead telling myself the fib that the girls and I could use that time to de-clutter and organize.

Yeah, sure.


It started out well enough with a trip to the library. Lucy got to break in her brand-spanking new card, and we each got three books. The girls spent hardly any time reading their books, as it turned out, choosing instead to play Pokemon on their Nintendo/Gameboys. *grumble*

The house remained cluttered and disorganized, though I read all three of my books.



2. July: Natalie went to sleepaway camp for a week; her third year in a row. I remember picking her up the very first year and listening to her sob on the way home, certain that she'd just experienced the high point of her life and that she would never, ever make better friends or have a better time... EVER again!

Ah yes, I remember that heartbreak from my time at summer camp. *sigh*

Anyway, off she went, and with Big Sister gone that week, I promised Lucy that she and I would do lots of fun Mommy-Lucy stuff. I guess we must have, but for the life of me, aside from a trip to Friendly's, I can't recall what we did. I do know that de-cluttering wasn't part of it.


When Natalie came home, the girls started two weeks of musical theater. They did Seussical, Jr. Lucy was in dancing-heaven and Natalie had scored one of the lead roles - Horton the Elephant. The wretched child would not let me listen to her practice though. She told me that she wanted to surprise me.

She did. The kid was phenomenal. I cried.

Well, I always cry during Horton's songs. "Alone in the Universe" makes me weep unapologetically.

Unfortunately, I don't have a recording of her doing it. *dope slap* Here's someone else singing the song:









Let me get a tissue and I'll get back to you. *sniff*

OK, all better.




3. August: The girls had the option of doing another session of the theater, but they both decided that they would rather take swimming lessons with their cousin.

Mad success! Natalie took to it like a fish; a spunky, curly-haired fish who got in trouble from time to time for not listening to her instructor, but in her few weeks there she advanced a whole level to intermediate.


As if that weren't enough fun, a few afternoons a week we'd go to my sister's and hang out in the air-conditioned, cable-tv-equipped splendor of her house. I watched Project Runway, Top Chef, and numerous shows on BBC America and lolled about like a slug.

It was awesome, although it did nothing to aid me in my goal of getting my house de-cluttered.


Also, somewhere in between the musical theater, the swimming and the Top Chef marathons, I became an un-Vegan again.

I know, I feel like a terrible person. I describe myself as a sort of self-loathing omnivore as I rush madly into the arms of my lovers, cheese and sausage, once again.

I am such a failure. A meat-eating, wretched failure. But good lord, did I create a delicious split pea and andouille soup! To die for. Especially the pigs that gave up their lives to become andouille. :/



4. September: School started, I persevered but slowly on the children's book that I keep telling people that I am writing and illustrating.

*sigh* That could be a blog entry by itself...

House, somewhat de-cluttered. The key: no kids hanging around to adjudicate on everything that goes into a trash bag.



5. October: Now I'm asking myself, "Where the HELL did October go?"

No, really!

Where did it go? It's November this weekend, I'll be starting NaNoWriMo and I still haven't done my Christmas shopping! For that matter, Hallowe'en is in two days and I have neither bought any bags of candy nor carved a single pumpkin yet.

However, I did recycle and toss out a buttload of clutter this week.

Also, I am teaching myself German again. Sprechen wir Deutsch!

So there you have it: I am not a total slacker. Just 98.5% of one, with the holidays a-looming.

Exactly the Same & The Snow Leopard Wars

I have commented several times how I'm bewildered by the fact that two siblings who aren't necessarily close in age can still manage to fight over possessions. It's gotten to the point where I quite often buy them identical toys so that I won't get complaints like, "She got a webkinz kitty and I only got a webkinz doggie! *long indrawn gasp* You love her more than meeeeee!"

Yeah, sure kid. I love her more than you. *eye roll*

So unless they are with me when we pick things out or I'm buying something from a list of things which they each specifically asked for, I make a habit of buying two identical objects so that there can be no complaints.

Recently though, I have become sick of it and thought that perhaps by doing so, I have inadvertently been creating future trouble. Half of the stuff that they get ends up broken or forgotten. That must-have item of today will end up with the dust bunnies under their beds tomorrow, trust me. Besides, by buying two things, exactly the same, I am setting them up to believe that things will be easy; that they will always be treated equally with everyone else in the world, and we all know that's not the case.

Maybe I'm just cranky from having to break up yet another disagreement between them, but I am ready to open up the School of Reality for them. The first rule is "You can't always get what you want and no amount of whining is going to change that."

"Gee, your sister got the webkinz kitty and you only got the stinky webkinz doggie? Well, that kid over there has neither. I'm sure he'd love the stupid ole webkinz doggie. You want to give it to him? No? Ok then."

Part of the trouble with Kid#2 is that we all have indulged her to a degree. Another part of it is her natural cuteness. She has this ability to work her charms on anyone around her. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the Snow Leopard Wars.

The Snow Leopard Wars

Several years ago, for Christmas, Natalie got a big stuffed Snow Leopard from my dad. MY first reaction was, "Oh no." Now my dad had always gotten me and my sister plush toys as gifts when he'd go out of town on business trips, often leaving them on our beds when we were asleep so that they were the first thing we'd see when we woke up. To say that we had quite a large collection of stuffed animals is putting it mildly.

I actually have no problem with the girls getting stuffed animals, the issue that Christmas was, this was the very last toy from the Christmas pile, and it was a big one; moreover, there was no corresponding toy for Lucy. My dad, bless him, had thought that Lucy was too little to notice this discrepancy, and sure, she probably was. She couldn't yet count, but as soon as she saw that enormous, soft stuffed snow leopard, her eyes boggled. She dropped the toy she had been playing with and immediately toddled over to her big sister and the snow leopard. Ruefully, my dad said, "Oh shit," as he realized that not only had Lucy noticed the toy, but she made it very clear that she wanted it!

In the beginning, she was amenable to petting it a bit and then playing with one of her toys. That did not last long. Eventually, she'd find a way to play with it whenever her sister wasn't. When Natalie went off to school, Lucy would grab that toy and roll around on the floor with it; she'd gather up a bunch of her smaller stuffed animals and convene some sort of tribal council with the snow leopard as deity or chief; often, she'd sit on its back as if she were riding it; other times, she fall asleep on top of it and take a well-needed nap.

Looking back, I know that we should have nipped this in the bud. It is not right at all to condone one sibling's usurpation of another one's toys, and she'd already laid claim to a stuffed cheetah which was originally Natalie's. I have no defense other than to say that she was the child after a lost son, in some ways a miracle baby, if only because the miracle proved that after a death, life can still emerge. Maybe I fell prey to her charming ways. Whatever the cause, we were on the verge of raising a monster child.

The situation came to a head when Lucy decided that she wanted to have the snow leopard snuggled with her in bed at night. As you can imagine, Natalie protested this. She'd been very nice about sharing her toy with her little sister up until that point, and now she wanted more?! We decided upon a compromise where they would take turns: one night Natalie would have the snow leopard, the next night, Lucy would. They agreed, but only on the surface. In reality, on the nights Lucy had the snow leopard, Natalie would be a little pouty. When Natalie had the snow leopard, Lucy seemed willing enough. She'd go to bed with no fuss, and at first we breathed a sigh of relief. but then, when their dad and I were sitting downstairs on the couch, we heard this:

Thump. Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud. *pause* Squeeeeeeeak. *pause* Thud-thud-thud. Squeeeeeeeeeeak. *pause* Thud-thud-thud.Thud-thud-thud.

Sitting below, we could follow the little thuds and squeaks from Lucy's room to her sister's. Their dad went upstairs to deal with this and when he came down, he was laughing, saying,

"I caught her just as she was coming out of Natalie's room. She had the snow leopard slung over her shoulder like she was carrying a wounded buddy out of combat!"

It really was a funny image. The snow leopard was easily the same size as her, maybe even a little bit bigger.

It took some nights of this repeated effort - she's nothing if not persistent - finally we lay down an ultimatum: the snow leopard or the cheetah. See, this fascination with the snow leopard was just a flirtation. Lucy's real love was for the stuffed cheetah she had somehow appropriated from her sister. We explained this to her, telling her that by right, both the cheetah and the snow leopard were Natalie's, and so far Natalie had been ok (kind of) with giving up the cheetah, but she wasn't remotely ok with sharing the snow leopard.

So we put it to her: if you want to keep the cheetah, no more back and forth with the snow leopard.

Her answer was decisive. She hugged the cheetah close to her, her big eyes filled with tears and she said, "Cheeeeeetahhhhhh!"

Crisis averted.

The new crisis is wondering if I am raising kids with certain unreasonably high expectations, but I suppose all parents wonder about this, right?