I've noticed over the past few years that a vacation comes just when I need it. Sometimes more frequently, sometimes less- but it never fails that when I feel like the rat race is about to become too much, just around the bend is a long weekend with people that nourish my soul. Not chicken soup. Don't be an ass.
The past few weeks have been trying and last night I went to sleep feeling exhausted, defeated, and angry at the day for treating me like that. This morning I awoke to these names running through my head.
SarahMoiraMichelleRoisinNateBadSarahLauraLibbyDalasieTuckerAlliKathie...and more. (You guys, can we do the Stevie Wonder performance again? Please?)
Take THAT, yesterday! In just 2 days, after bringing Johan to my dad and Ev's to begin his superherosuperfun long weekend at the cabin and swinging by Aveda for a haircut, I'm flying off to the left coast to celebrate the wedding of a fantastic couple with the rest of our fantastic friends.
Fine, call it chicken soup. You're probably right.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Oh, hi. Want to catch up?
Did you think I was gone forever? Nope.
It's been a busy, interesting, enlightening few weeks. There have been parties, Twins games, Mille Lacs time, late night discussions, foiled plans that turned into better plans, old friends meeting new friends, family time, Johan's religious exploration, movies, house sitting, pools and Jacuzzis, tee-ball, the beginning of Montessori school, a spring program at the old school, swimming lessons, and me deciding I'm ready to think about meeting someone and be out there, as it were.
Dating sounds so silly, in a way. I am from the generation of hanging out and hooking up. I'm pretty sure that's still what the kids do, although I imagine it involves facebook and texting now. Hanging out, hooking up, logging on? Anyway, the word "date" reminds me of sitting across the table from someone at a diner having an ice cream soda and then going to a drive in movie. Am I thinking of "Grease?" Probably. Well, here goes nothing. And maybe someone will give me a letter jacket and we'll go steady. Dreamy.
In other news, I saw "Bridesmaids" with Addie on Friday night and it was the funniest movie I've seen in a long time. Addie and I decided we want to be friends with the women from the SNL cast (mostly former at this point.) If anyone has any ideas about how we could have a dinner party with Kristen Wiig, Maya Rudolph, Tina Fey, and Amy Pohler, I'm all ears.
It is less than a month until my 30th birthday. I haven't enjoyed my birthday that much for the past few years. It's starting to be like how I feel about Halloween: such high expectations followed by inevitable disappointment. I have an irrational fear that I will somehow spend my birthday weekend and the actual day alone and sad. All evidence points to that not happening, but worry I do.
Johan's last swim lesson was today. The next session starts already tomorrow evening. I'm glad a new session is starting because, while I think the Foss school is great and I'm happy with the progress Johan has made, I am not a big fan of his teacher from this session. Johan's class was only 2 kids- a 5-year-old girl and him. The entire time, the teacher was more vociferous in her praise of the other child, spent more time with the other child, and did not re-direct inappropriate behavior of the other child. I felt like Johan was getting minimal praise, being somewhat ignored, and only told that he needed to do things better and longer. I tried to ignore this at first because I do not want to be that mom who is always gunning for her kid. There is a delicate balance between being your child's advocate/ally and standing back to let them know the world is a place where they have to make their own strides and speak up to be heard.
But, it kept happening. For awhile I thought maybe the teacher just preferred girl children. When we did our mid-session reviews, I noted this on the form. Nothing changed. In last couple weeks of lessons, though, I realized what I think the problem actually is. Johan is 3 and the other girl is 5. But they are almost exactly the same size. Obviously the 5 year old is faster and better coordinated and has a longer attention span. These are all things that make teaching swimming easier for the teacher. I think the teacher either did not know or could not grasp the fact that Johan is a full 2 years younger than his classmate. It seems that the teacher was looking at them side by side, expecting similar skill sets and behaviors, and since Johan is 3, he could not keep up with the other kid and with what the teacher came to expect since the girl performed at that level. She thought she was comparing apples to apples, but it was really apples to broccoli (Johan's favorite). Since the teacher was expecting a sweet and tangy fruit, rather than a fibrous crunchy vegetable, she responded in kind. Imagine taking a big swig of Sprite or vodka when you're expecting water. We've all done it. You know what I mean.
Johan is in the 95th percentile for height and weight and 99th percentile for head size. He can pass for 5 easily when you look at him. But his physical skills, emotional maturity, and abilities are that of a 3 year old. He's broccoli, just how he should be, but people sometimes are going to expect him to be an apple. I remember vividly going to the park with my cousin when we were kids. I am 6 months older than her, but was always a full head taller than her. My grandma would tell me to "take care" of Carla at the park. I just seemed older because I was bigger. Instead of taking care of Carla, I would spin her really fast on the swings until she got dizzy and fell over. Then we would eat blow pops and climb up the slide. We were both broccoli.
Well, the session is over and I hope that Johan's new class has another 3-year-old in it. I may mention to his new teacher that he is 3, even though he looks older. Don't worry, though. I won't tell the swim teacher about my extended apple and broccoli metaphor. That would be weird.
All right, enough for now. But it felt good to sit down and write. I'll be back soon.
It's been a busy, interesting, enlightening few weeks. There have been parties, Twins games, Mille Lacs time, late night discussions, foiled plans that turned into better plans, old friends meeting new friends, family time, Johan's religious exploration, movies, house sitting, pools and Jacuzzis, tee-ball, the beginning of Montessori school, a spring program at the old school, swimming lessons, and me deciding I'm ready to think about meeting someone and be out there, as it were.
Dating sounds so silly, in a way. I am from the generation of hanging out and hooking up. I'm pretty sure that's still what the kids do, although I imagine it involves facebook and texting now. Hanging out, hooking up, logging on? Anyway, the word "date" reminds me of sitting across the table from someone at a diner having an ice cream soda and then going to a drive in movie. Am I thinking of "Grease?" Probably. Well, here goes nothing. And maybe someone will give me a letter jacket and we'll go steady. Dreamy.
In other news, I saw "Bridesmaids" with Addie on Friday night and it was the funniest movie I've seen in a long time. Addie and I decided we want to be friends with the women from the SNL cast (mostly former at this point.) If anyone has any ideas about how we could have a dinner party with Kristen Wiig, Maya Rudolph, Tina Fey, and Amy Pohler, I'm all ears.
It is less than a month until my 30th birthday. I haven't enjoyed my birthday that much for the past few years. It's starting to be like how I feel about Halloween: such high expectations followed by inevitable disappointment. I have an irrational fear that I will somehow spend my birthday weekend and the actual day alone and sad. All evidence points to that not happening, but worry I do.
Johan's last swim lesson was today. The next session starts already tomorrow evening. I'm glad a new session is starting because, while I think the Foss school is great and I'm happy with the progress Johan has made, I am not a big fan of his teacher from this session. Johan's class was only 2 kids- a 5-year-old girl and him. The entire time, the teacher was more vociferous in her praise of the other child, spent more time with the other child, and did not re-direct inappropriate behavior of the other child. I felt like Johan was getting minimal praise, being somewhat ignored, and only told that he needed to do things better and longer. I tried to ignore this at first because I do not want to be that mom who is always gunning for her kid. There is a delicate balance between being your child's advocate/ally and standing back to let them know the world is a place where they have to make their own strides and speak up to be heard.
But, it kept happening. For awhile I thought maybe the teacher just preferred girl children. When we did our mid-session reviews, I noted this on the form. Nothing changed. In last couple weeks of lessons, though, I realized what I think the problem actually is. Johan is 3 and the other girl is 5. But they are almost exactly the same size. Obviously the 5 year old is faster and better coordinated and has a longer attention span. These are all things that make teaching swimming easier for the teacher. I think the teacher either did not know or could not grasp the fact that Johan is a full 2 years younger than his classmate. It seems that the teacher was looking at them side by side, expecting similar skill sets and behaviors, and since Johan is 3, he could not keep up with the other kid and with what the teacher came to expect since the girl performed at that level. She thought she was comparing apples to apples, but it was really apples to broccoli (Johan's favorite). Since the teacher was expecting a sweet and tangy fruit, rather than a fibrous crunchy vegetable, she responded in kind. Imagine taking a big swig of Sprite or vodka when you're expecting water. We've all done it. You know what I mean.
Johan is in the 95th percentile for height and weight and 99th percentile for head size. He can pass for 5 easily when you look at him. But his physical skills, emotional maturity, and abilities are that of a 3 year old. He's broccoli, just how he should be, but people sometimes are going to expect him to be an apple. I remember vividly going to the park with my cousin when we were kids. I am 6 months older than her, but was always a full head taller than her. My grandma would tell me to "take care" of Carla at the park. I just seemed older because I was bigger. Instead of taking care of Carla, I would spin her really fast on the swings until she got dizzy and fell over. Then we would eat blow pops and climb up the slide. We were both broccoli.
Well, the session is over and I hope that Johan's new class has another 3-year-old in it. I may mention to his new teacher that he is 3, even though he looks older. Don't worry, though. I won't tell the swim teacher about my extended apple and broccoli metaphor. That would be weird.
All right, enough for now. But it felt good to sit down and write. I'll be back soon.
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