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| Pretty much how I feel already! |
For Chaya.
Pretty much for Chaya.
Meaning Preschool's closed for the next two weeks.
Andrew, by contrast, has a surgically precise smattering of days off to make his work-week ever so fragmented. But those holiday mini-weeks have a cool quiet vibe if I recall, so I almost envy him. This coming from the mom who just lost her preschool break anyways.
Nope we are not flying anywhere! As probably implied by Andrew's working schedule. But g'dang we're gonna live it up semi-local style, I promise.
So far so good.
We've hit the holiday check boxes.
Office Christmas Party CHECK
Chaya went up north to Pam's house while Andrew and I attended the Blue Origin End of Year Holiday Fete. It was staggeringly huge with people representing every style and demographic that "Seattleish Generally White People" can offer. There were catered tables with different themes. And an acrobat. Jeff Bezos giving an award ceremony speech that nobody could hear because his mike was too low. And a very very cat-herding-chaotic moment attempting to get a group photo from Andrew's team
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| This is gonna be November on the new Blue Origin "NERDS! HOT NERDS!" Calendar |
Before this occurred, we had to go to Men's Warehouse to get new suit pants for Andrew. Holy crap what happened to men's fashion? I'm really excited to see it become more acceptable for guys to play with colors and cuts and patterns and be really individual, but man there was some epic ugly in that store. All the boldness of a fabulous gay man with none of the savvy. Oh you kids these days with your checks and plaid paisleys and orange and green bowties.
Anyways, this is what happens when you leave your Millennial wife unattended in a store. First I managed to stumble into an over-the-shoulder text battle between another customer and some significant other whose college friends he F-ING had put up with S-T well enough. He was very pleasant while talking to other people then would return to epic vitriol. I had to move away before I started correcting his spelling. Then there was a mirror:
I keep myself occupied.
Weird Holiday Adjacent Storm Messing up all Driving: CHECK!
Except this year it was Biblical and very old testament flooding.
I tried and miserably failed to reunite with my oldest friend on his wedding day up in Bellingham. I shockingly managed to arrange childcare - by which I mean my totally awesome husband secured a half day off to watch the kiddo. I thought we were golden. But then I-405 kicked it up several notches. Truly, shockingly epic. I knew the drive on a Thursday afternoon wasn't gonna be great, but nobody prepared me for "the most rain this area's had in a decade" or something like that. It took - I kid you not - an hour and a half to make it most of the way through Bellevue. Driving rain. Accidents everywhere. Me thanking GOD Andrew had lent me his comfy car with the good stereo all the way up until my spotify glitched out and stopped playing anyways and then Google Maps went silent... but we figured it out. Somewhere on the defeated and crumple and very soggy "way back" driving through streets that were basically Venetian at that point, I at least got maps to talk to me again. Three hours and change later, I returned home crumpled and defeated but so SO glad to be out of the car. So glad.
Latkes, Candle Lighting, Donuts: CHECK AND CHECK WITH A SIDE OF SINGING AND DANCING
Despite the insane amount of rain the last few days having turned much of Bellevue into Venice, we made it to Temple De Hirsch Sinai, celebrating Chanukah (a teeny bit prematurely) at their Shabbat Junior (DANCE PARTY!!!!)
Chaya had had a party at her preschool earlier AND had refused to sleep So once we hit the bustling party hall, she was sheer lunatic. Punching me, smearing ink on daddy, randomly screaming during the songs.
It was a friggin' kiddo-rave.
Kiddo Burning Man
She almost even settled for the Shabbat part
And through the lakes and oceans that make our roads, we returned in acceptable not-terrible time. Hope springs eternal.
And carrying on.While all the glitz and glitter of holidaze shuffles on around us, there are some very day to day things going on as well.
After a brief post-moving hiatus (total meltdown), we're back with the potty patrol. To be a little clever in a 4 year old appropriate way, we're on the the PAWTY PATROL.
Explanation to non-rents: Chaya's obsessed - this is the level most little girls are into Frozen or whatever Disney tripe is currently on tap) with a show about a pre-adolescent boy and his magical dogs who go around "saving the day" in very non-specific and random ways. Chaya connected with "Sky" the Paw Patrol Smurfette who happens to ride around in a helicopter and who - naturally - has extra long lashes and a penchant for pink. We've come a long way, baby. Paw Patrol, probably has not. But hey one of the Mayors of one of the towns is a woman of color. She's pretty stupid but morally good, unlike the villain who's definitely a white dude with cats. I digress.
Toilet! We threw out Chaya's old potty a while ago and just got a kid seat. This was a glorious and freeing event. And almost interested Chaya in trying again a few months back. We gave a bit more of a nudge this time.
After a day where Chaya managed to both (1) get diaper contents all over Daddy's pants for not the first goddamned time aaaaa, (2) and require an emergency preschool intervention due to her poop load exceeding her diaper capacity, we decided to start pushing HARD.
It started well. Many victories. Stickers. Chaya started playing "tic tac toe" on our little white board and revealed she actually knows several letters!
... But we started reaching where we fizzed out before rapidly. Crying she can't pee and holding it like crazy. Tantrums every time it was time to sit on the toilet. Incensed at the bribery/blackmail approach to refusing to let her do her treats and leisure activities until she'd sad on the toilet for a predetermined time.
....
And then just when I'd given up hope, tinkle tinkle and YAY. After a half hour tantrum refusing to use the toilet despite needing to pee in the morning, Chaya then announced "I need to pee! It wouldn't be good to pee on the chair! I should use the toilet!" and just marched over to the bathroom like she did this several times a day.
It's a veritable roller coaster of a ride.
Things seem be be gelling faster and more clearly on Chaya's terms this time anyways. It's really cha-chas forward and backward because Chaya is damned well her own person and she'll cut the shit out of everyone's noses to spite her face.She's gonzo and we know it.
I've occasionally wondered if she'll be able to go to Kindergarten next year if there's another about face on potty training.
A lot of Chaya's peers have parents considering whether they'll hold their kids back a year. It was something we are going to wait-and-see on, but it seems like she has been pretty on track academically. She seems to be engaged, know her letters, and to be ready for longer days (diaper/potty issues aside).I feel like she'd go a little crazy repeating pre-K from that angle.
Socially, well, I don't think it's developmental per se that she's not 100% in sync with her peers or particularly responsive to her teacher. I think we have a cute little weirdo.
Chaya isn't like a lot of the other kids. I mean other than the fact that she's a butterly-fairy-mermaid-cat who always ALWAYS wears wings, creates art* that could pretty immediately become a popular webcomic with a little captioning, and speaks in poetry*
*
**"My heart is not thunder/it does not sound like that!/my heart is a butterfly: It dances where light is the music
I mean she's shaping up to be the drama/dance geek both of her parents were in their drastically different ways. With hints of non-conformism. Hints of social awkwardness. Hints of good old fashioned introversion. Real wafts of serious stage-presence. A girl who will march to the beat of her own personal jungle track waving glow sticks and her imaginary snake over her head..
I see other little girls approaching each other like little mini Heathers/Karens/Lindas/Whatevers. "Hello, friend friend! Did you see my shirt!?! Representing that widely popular movie series about princesses and horses? Is it not fabulous? Do you have a similar popular movie themed shirt? Who is your favorite character? How are you?" Kiss kiss cheek cheek.
Ok seriously, her friend crush is a girl named "Paiselee," and now I feel bad about having written this 15 years ago in a depressing story I wrote:
Feeling discouraged, she returned her cheek to the couch. They were slowly becoming one, she and the couch. It was absorbing her until she, too, would be a cozy, paisley couch in the back of some hellhole dance club in the city. Well, actually it was a plaid couch, but paisley came to mind first and the word appealed to her more. "Paisely," she purred with delight. "Paisley" – it sounded like something you’d name a well-to-do, androgynous blond child after smothering it in khakis and a polo shirt and teaching it piano. Or something you would call a small, fluffy dog. “Here Paisley, Paisley, Paisley,” she muttered and giggled again.This Paislee is blond. Very blond. Though she's pretty clearly cisgender girl at this point.She has pigtails and unicorn shirts and she likes to talk about her little sister.
Paisley likes Chaya I think, but she's a little unsure about her.. Paisley's other BFF, who maybe actually is her BFF is a girl named Scarlet. Or is it Autumn. I get the two mixed up. One of them definitely has regular playdates with Miss P. They are all beautifully coordinated, painfully normal little alpha girls. Who do talk as above. Chaya's not very keen on Scarlett/Autumn.
Chaya also seems to jive with the boys, but isn't quite like them either. The other little boys running up to each other announcing "hey I have a dinosaur. AWESOME! Did you see this book about trains? Let's play. WHOOOO"
Meanwhile Chaya is climbing my leg giggling and screaming "I'm FLYYYYYYING." And laughing hysterically or shrieking then going dead quiet when another kid comes up to say something. OR making strange gutteral laughing noises only Chaya can make, while running towards an adorable little boy named Finn, who is most definitely simultaneously terrified and fascinated by her. Whom she chases around the room making battle noises and threatening to hit sometimes. Who kind of runs away from her and then turns back to see what she's doing.
Her teacher - as before - was surprised she talked as much as she does, because she is typically more mute in school and when she gets upset she does NOT let on as to why. Until we talked, an evaluation was going to be suggested for fear she was behind on verbal development... ha... ha ha... hahahahaha.... Mommy's chafed ears say otherwise.
So many flashes of familiarity. Me, sitting quietly in a classroom looking extra concerned and thoughtful, channeling an invisible mouse. Then suddenly bursting out with emotive laughter at an overheard joke or riveted fascination at some tidbit of new learning, nodding so hard I'm falling off my seat once the lecture begins. Startling the shit out of people when I become animate. The studied low profile that goes total diva in 0 to 60. Yeah... I see it.
And it is what it is. It will mean challenges and misunderstandings for her, I'm sure. Everything does! There are people who are not going to get her. And sometimes that's gonna really hurt. And she'll have to look harder to find her niche and her tribe and her people. But I think she's got such vibrance and creativity. I think she's got such potential to dazzle and the depth of feeling to bond like crazy when she does. I think ... we'll see. It's really up to her what she does now.
I don't want to read myself into my daughter so much that I miss all the other amazing things she is.She is her own person in spades. Even if we were genetically identical (which we most definitely are not), we are growing up in different environments. Facing different challenges. Discovering different passions. Finding different friends. These things are their own kind of formative. I actually don't feel like I have any kind of leg up - or inkling - on guiding my kiddo forward. But anyone opinionated enough to think they do: I definitely know they have a leg-down. Kids are unique. Parents adapt as much to their children and children adapt to parenting
There are things I care about imparting - destigmatizing mental health, being comfortable with negative emotions, questioning the preconceptions of privilege, avoiding the pressures that lead to body issue, affirmative friggin consent... I'd do that with any kid. And it might not be effective. And it might backfire. And we'll figure it out. Kids are a big f-ing mystery. The tangible stuff - like oh my god, make this child pee in the friggin' potty!! and oh boy it's tooth brushing time yet again- is still begging for micromanagement. But the big stuff like personality and friends and passion. Wow. Big open "we'll find out!"
It's funny to see little bits of yourself in the people you love, though. You'd better damn well learn how to love yourself, and fast! Though honestly. It's easier with your kid. Easier to love your own traits. Easier to be emotionally vulnerable and accepting of the traits that drive you nuts in others. Hopefully more patient. Hopefully.
It's hard, even on the hardest day, not to find a moment to simply stop, and stew in awe at just how amazing the monster is. It's hard not to feel every fiber bursting to hug her just one more time and showever her with kisses while telling her how cool she is. I'm a lucky ma.
So we'll see. 2020 is gonna be another banner year for the fairy-butterfly (who now knows several letters and has started renaming and lavishly personifying all of her stuffies)
And oh yeah, medical mysteries continue. My biopsy showed some funky stuff that was...
... not malignant.
Which is kind of the operative thing to relieve a nice uncomfortable 12 hours of waiting to hear just what exactly was going on with the biopsy with results that needed prompt follow up.
Turns out I have an incredibly rare things that's even less commonly in that specific location. Hidrocystoma something something. Cysts on sweat glands. There's no particular standard protocol, but the most common involves strong acids or lasers. Trying something else first. Fingers crossed!
In other words: Life carries on.
But look: New Hat!
Happy Everything
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