Day 4 - 8 Years

Where did 8 years of my life go?

When did she get so big? She rolls her eyes at me now like I'm super uncool (which we all know I am NOT!) She sits in her room and listens to music on her boombox like a teenager almost. She can't stand her little sister most of the time. She's figured out how to rollerblade pretty well.

She's 8...and I don't quite now how she got here so quickly.

Eight years ago today...probably about this time, I was holding my newborn baby girl in my arms, probably wondering what on earth I was going to do now. I didn't have a clue how to be a mom and I had this...life...this beautiful gorgeous LIFE in my arms that I knew depended on me to take care of her. And I was scared, and ecstatic, and exhausted, and in awe and a million other emotions to long to name all at the same time.

She's went from this chubby, roll-filled baby to suddenly wearing shoes that aren't that much smaller than mine and being close to five feet tall. She's picky about what she wears - EXTREMELY picky - yet doesn't give any thoughts at all as to how her hair looks (trust me - the hair brushing is a battle). She's a fantastic reader and excels in school, but cannot seem to remember to put her DS in it's correct place like she should, thus either her little sister gets her hands on it or she "loses" it for a while. She's caught between wanting to be a little girl, and wanting to be a teenager. I guess technically - she's on the young end of a "tween."

I hope that someday she realizes that for as excited as she may be to grow older, it's hard for mommies and daddies to watch. In a happy way, of course. It's true in that we become our parents because I never understood until my own children were born. My baby girl is physically gone - and she's spreading her wings and using her many gifts she has and she's starting to FLY!!! And I know she has the spirit and the will and the nature to fly as high as possible. But that precious little newborn, that chubby little toddler, that missing-teeth Kindergartner - they're gone. And in place is this beautiful girl that seems to grow right before my eyes. And I want to stop and freeze time so it doesn't move too fast on me. I want to cherish her childhood and I want her to do the same.

So Big A - my firstborn, my little redhead with the gorgeous hair, my spitting image, so I hear - I wish you the happiest of birthdays today. It's a hugely exciting day for you and you should be the star today.

You're 8! (Oh man..in another 8 years, she'll be DRIVING!)

I love you with everything I am. I cherish you and would give you the world if I could. I love watching you become this fantastic person but every night, when you're asleep, I still come and tuck you in, smooth your hair back and kiss your forehead. I will probably do that for as long as you live with me.

Happy Birthday baby! Don't grow up too fast.

Day 3 - The Sneak

Little A is a thief and a sneak.

Yes, my dearest, darling, cute-as-a-bug 4 year old is TROUBLE.

A couple of weeks ago, I had a purse party. I got Big and Little A each their own purses. Little A's is a small red Chanel purse with two big white C's kind of interconnected on the front of it. She hated it at first (she really wanted the pink Kate Spade purse but I refuse to spend $45 on a purse for a 4 year old) and flipped a fit when she saw it. Then she calmed down, warmed up to it and proceeded to sling it over her shoulder and take it everywhere with her. Darn cute.

SO last week, she's carrying her purse around and sets it down in the middle of the floor. I go to get it and put it somewhere less "trip-able" and she says in a panicky voice, "DON'T LOOK IN MY PURSE!"

Uh...well, I wasn't going to ...BUT NOW I AM!!!

"Why?" I say. "Because," she says. This dialogue continued about three more times before I finally just opened the purse and started pulling out stuff. Pulling out stuff that wasn't ours! NOthing major...a wooden coaster, a patchwork looking placemat type thing, a small plastic batman figurine.

She stole it from daycare. THis was her hidden stash. I was mad, as any mother should be, but I was kind of laughing inside. I'll admit it. I mean...if she wants to commit to a life of crime, I'm going to have to teach her about what's valuable right???

I KID!

Anyway, I had a stern talk to her about it, we called Steph and the next day I made her repeat word for word, "I'm very sorry I stole these things from you yesterday. It was wrong and I will never do it again. I am very sorry." Steph did her job and remained as stern as she could while trying to suppress a smile, and so far Little A has not stolen any additional items.

Steph did tell me that later, Little A pulled another figurine out of her purse that I missed and said, "I stole this too. Here you go." So I guess SOMETHING I said worked, right?

Secondly, Little A loves gum. She puts a piece of gum in most mornings and when we get to Stephs, I tell her to spit it out. This morning was no different. As she's walking towards the garbage, she sort of stops to look at something, all the time glancing at me. I say, "Little A - gum in the garbage." SHe meanders a bit more and I say it again. Steph then tells me that yesterday my child tried to hide her gum in her cheek yesterday. Wouldn't chew in front of Steph but wouldn't open her mouth either.

I made her open her mouth today. There was no gum.

Little thief and a sneak. I'm calling her trouble from now on.

Day 2 - Twitter

Yes, I Twitter. I Tweet. I'm a Tweep.

Granted, I do it about as well as I do this blog - sporadically, randomly, when inspiration strikes.

I have many friends that don't Twitter. In fact, I would say 99.9% of my friends don't Twitter. And some even laugh at the fact that I do. And that's fine. I'm still gonna do it. Not well or regularly or frequently, of course....but I thrive on being thought of as techy or quirky so if it's not your thing, that's fine. But I like it for some reason.

For the record, I do NOT Tweet when I drive. That's unsafe. Don't do it. Wait til a stop light....or a traffic jam. It's okay to tweet if you're going 5 mph in nasty traffic. Just make sure to look up periodically to make sure traffic hasn't started moving or simply STOPPED moving. I will NOT be responsible for your fender bender.

So what's the appeal of a 140 character post? Honestly - I can't tell you. But it's taken off like wildfire. Some of the people I follow I absolutely look forward to reading. And I don't know them, but they sound like someone I'd be friends with and they write like me, so I dive into some small corner of their lives in reading them. Other Tweeps...not so much. They bore me. They retweet all the time - which isn't super thrilling for me. They're constantly marketing or preaching or talking politics. I just want to read stupid mindless tweets. There is a little button where you can "unfollow" people - but that seems mean to me. Too many people notice when they've been "unfollowed" and you know me.....I hate to hurt feelings.

Day 2's blog - about Twitter. Where did the family stories go? Who the heck wants to read about Twitter? For those asking those questions, I give you the following:

Day 1 - I'm a Friend in Low Places

I'm gonna try something.....

Are you ready? Seriously...are you ready? Cuz I'm serious...and it might blow your mind.

I'm going to try blogging DAILY...or Daylee as the blog title says.

I KNOW!!!! It's crazy. But I'm kinda at that point where I really, really am looking for ways to make new friends (okay really...make a little extra money) and every article I read about blogging says, "Blog every day. Build traffic." So I'm going to try to do that.

(fingers crossed...gosh, I hope this works...both the building traffic part and me actually DOING it part).

So commence day #1.

__________________________________________________________

~ Allow me to get sappy for a bit. See....I think that I don't show the appreciation that I have for the important people in my life nearly enough. I tend to get caught up in my own chaotic world, thinking my problems are mighty and I don't have time for anyone else's "stuff". And I forget about people. Okay..not forget, but push them to the "I'll get in touch with them later" part of my brain, then not ever pulling out that brain file again. For this reason, I feel some relationships have gone distant and it makes me sad. At the same time, I don't quite know how to remedy this, because every day brings new experiences and problems to my own life. Its a vicious circle sometimes.

To describe me....I bite off more than I can chew sometimes. And according to a test I took last week, my human strength is in relationships - I'm caring and good in relationship buildling. What I'm NOT good at is the structured stuff. I'm the worst at keeping a calendar. I used to rely completely on memory for things. Now, I sporadically enter things into my phone. Notice the word sporadicially - while still trying to rely on memory and then failing miserably. I create files in my email that have titles, so I can compartmentalize emails and keep better track...and then I never look at the created file again after I have moved something to it. I save voicemails on my phone because they're important...then forget they were there in the first place.

This is called "Working Mother Brain" and it looks like this....



...and this, my friends and family, is why I suck.

So I'm putting this out to my friends and family - a couple of you read me and I'm hoping you'll pass it along to those who don't.

I'm scatterbrained, I can't remember to book babysitters for Dinner Club, I haven't harmonized to Video in way too long, I never eat at Chipotle - which I guess is a good AND bad thing, I haven't stayed at my parents in ages, I haven't seen the Glover Getaway in forever, a trip to Florida should have happened a LONG time ago, and the little free time I have is usually spent cleaning, doing laundry, helping with homework, breaking up sisterly brawls or sitting in a hot tub alone with a book (which of course, I DO enjoy), I try to start ACTUALLY planning birthday parties for children six days before the day I had chosen three weeks ago and wonder if any of her friends will even be able to come because of my failure to get invitations out in a timely manner, and some days I forget which job I'm supposed to be at. True.

But through it all - no matter how much I don't show it - I would jump out of bed for a 3AM phone call from you and I won't be grouchy about it, I will drop things and come if I'm needed, I will do something funny intentionally or possibly unintentionally if I think you need a laugh, I will always say thank you, I will give hugs where I don't pat you on the back in that insincere, "Oh, here's a courtesy hug" kind of way, I will not be offended if you don't buy a purse, I will be at every event that I can remember and am able to attend, I let it warm my heart when you come to mine, I'll give you the last glass of wine, I'll call you when I'm driving because I want to talk to you and it's the quietest and best time for me to do so, I'll understand when you can't talk when I can, I'll steal some M&M's out of the jar on your desk....but I'll come in and tell you later that I stole some M&M's out of the jar on your desk, I will listen to country music (or that new song by Cher) for you - and even like more and more of it but I'll still make you listen to my eclectic mix if you're in my car, I will respect your beliefs even if they differ from mine, and most of all...I will cherish you, I will adore you and I will love you.

I may not ever be better at the scatterbrained stuff....But I love you forever.

Can I get an AAAAAAAAAAAA-MEN!!!!!

Take On Me

My first concert was a-ha in 1985 when I was in 7th grade.

I just heard "Take On Me" on the radio and it brought me back.

It was myself, and my friends Laurel and Emily. Laurel's and I's dads were going to drive us up the big ole' Cities from our smalltown wonderland, and attend the concert with us. We had five tickets.

It was not ideal...going to your first concert with your dad and your dad's friend...but we REALLY wanted to see a-ha. We probably made them promise not to walk too close to us or even attempt to talk to us.

a-ha (they didn't feel the need to capitalize) consisted of Morten, Mags and Pal (with the two dots over the a, but I don't know what that's called or how to do that in Blogger). I was in love with Morten - oh, he was dreamy. He was the lead singer, and the dude in the leather jacket trying to get out of a comic book in that ever-so-popular video. I pretended I was the girl in that video - I think I even had hair similar to her. And I'd dance and pretend Morten was in love with me, and I was 13 and it was glorious.

Laurel was in love with Mags - he was the keyboardist. He wasn't quite as pretty - a bit more shaggy. And in today's world, I can definitely see the appeal of him. I guess you could say he was more manly. But at that time, I'd just go, "Uh huh....but I LURVE Morten." And Emily - she was in love with Pal. He was ...kinda geeky in my honest opinion. Skinny, played the guitar and kind of did this "step-hop" bounce while playing the guitar. But she loved him. And it was good - as the three of us had no competition with each other. There was one for each of us.

So at the last minute, Papa's L and H surprised us and told us that although they were still taking us to the concert, they were going to drop us off rather than attend with us. What this meant is that we got to invite two more people. I know one was Heather but I'm not sure who the other was. We were PUMPED!!!! We were 7th graders and we were going to a concert!!! SQUEEE!!!!!!

And concert-go we did. I'm sure I had a long mullet going with full batwings (you know - sides sprayed out so stiff with hairspray you could break them) for 7th grade. Not the 10th grade batwings I became expert on - but beginning batwings. I probably still had braces - I don't remember. I got them off sometime in 7th grade. And I'm sure I had a zit or three or ten on my chin somewhere. In other words....the 7th grader I was is not in any likeness to the 7th graders today - that seem to have huge boobs, gorgeous hair and teeth and look 18.

But I didn't care - because Morten loved me. And I loved him. And I was at a concert without my dad...in the CITIES...and gosh, I was cool.

See what happens when you hear the opening keyboard riff to Take On Me????

I get a whole blog out of it.

Tummies and Cuteness

A quick little story - at least, I like to say it'll be quick, but you know me. I don't blog for days, weeks, months...but when I do blog, my stories are rarely "quick."

We shall see.

So last night I'm giving Little A a MUCH needed bath. I'm all for the warm weather but with warm weather comes VERY dirty kids. And dirty she was. So we're washing and conditioning hair, scrubbing body parts and crevices, put shimmery lotion on her (she insisted), misting her feet with foot spray (once again, she insisted) and gently spraying a moisturizing mist over her body after all was said and done (okay..I insisted. I'm a girl, she's a girl, we were getting into the pampering aspect of it all).

As she's standing there, I'm noticing the childs stomach is protruding....kind of a lot. Not in a scary "somethings wrong" way...in a "OMG, she ate WAY too much candy for Easter." I said something to her along the lines of, "Whoa! Look at that tummy!" to which she giggled, rubbed it and ran to her room. I followed and then tried to have a silly/serious Momtalk with her.

Me: Honey...your tummy looks very big. I think you've been eating too much junk food.
a: (grins)
Me: You know..we have to make healthy choices and we want to keep our bodies healthy, right? (this from a girl eating M&M's right now but she doesn't know that).
a: (grins and squishes my cheeks together and kisses me)
Me: Little A - we don't want to get a big tummy. We have to eat healthier. And you're too cute to be unhealthy looking Do you want to have a big tummy (being careful not to use the word "fat".)
a: No.
Me: So...we should start making healthier choices then right? Because we don't want to have a really big tummy.
a: (silence for a moment). But....(sly grin - big blue eyes opened wide, skin all shimmery and smelling good and hair actually combed while standing there in a summer nightgown that makes her look adorable) I still have a cute butt.

OY!!!! What comes out of the mouth of Little A scares me, humors me, shocks me, makes me giggle, makes me smile and makes me speechless.

This child is going to be trouble

Grizzly Old Guys

I love talking to growly, grizzly older men.

Today, I'm working at the tax office and the phone rings. I answer and it's a gentlemen and the office has been dealing with for a couple of weeks, yet I've not had the pleasure of conversing with him. Here's a sample of our conversation:

T: Heimdal Tax, This is Tami
GOG (Grizzly Older Guy): Yah..ya see I got an appointment in yer office but I can't find the dang place. I'm out here by the old Hammer farm. Where should I go?
T: I'm sorry..where are you?
GOG: Yah...I'm out by the old Hammer Farm, ya know?
T: I'm sorry...I'm not from Lakeville. Let me connect you to Pam.

So I do...and from the one sided conversation I heard, she was just as entertained as I was. Being a small town girl at heart, I am accustomed to hearing directions given that include things like, "Turn by the Murphys house on the corner where that big Elm tree is." And that's how this guy worked. 210th Street...nah..all you have to say is that you live in the old Everson house on the hill and he got here in the blink of a bugs' eye.

What we learned when he got here was that this house used to have a pool in the backyard (ironic since I've also told Pam her backyard is perfect for a pool) and that the little girl in the house almost "drownded" so the dad "done" told him to fill it all up. So if they ever want to put a pool in, they're "gonna have a pretty doggone hard time as the lands all chunky from when I filled 'er in, ya know."

Ahh..you just gotta grin and try really hard not to laugh. Especially when he handed his tax paperwork to Pam and called her sweetheart and referred to me as the "little girl who answered the phone," followed closely by a statement to Pam that went something like this:

"You got lots of hot little girls working in dis here office, dontcha now?"

I wasn't sure whether to be offended that an octogenarian just called me a "hot little girl"...because it skeeves me out a bit, or to be flattered that a grizzly old man is really complimenting and and just says things like that not fully realizing how they could be taken in today's world, and knowing it was probably a completely innocent statement by him...or to just laugh out loud as he adjusts his feed cap, hitches up his pants and turns to leave, looking over his shoulder while saying, "I thank you kindly sweetheart."

Ahh...good Tuesday humor for me.