The Green Pumpkin

I am planning to do a recap of our October adventures but this story stuck out to me among all the other little adventures so I figured I'd give it its own post. 

I'm guessing if you read the title of this post you know this picture is not of a tomato. It's the tiniest, greenest pumpkin I've ever seen. I should have put it next to something for scale but if you look in the upper right hand corner of the picture, that's Emma's jacket pocket to put it into perspective.

This story starts out like so many others have lately, with a trip to Emma's cubby at school. It was pumpkin patch field trip day and like any overly excited mother, I wanted to hear every single detail and description of the day. I was also really excited to see Emma's pumpkin because one simply cannot have enough Fall decor around. As I was trying to decode the events of the day from a three year old's perspective, we passed by rows and rows of cubbies. Some were overflowing with papers, others had stray pant legs dangling, and others still were crammed full of bags of diapers but one thing they all had in common, within each cubby sat a perfectly round orange pumpkin. Each one had a name lovingly scribed into the side in Sharpie ink. And I'm sure each one was carefully selected by its new owner to make the journey home.

At this point I was overflowing with excitement to coddle Emma's pumpkin perfection in my arms! However, as we approached her cubby, something strange happened. A wave of panic crashed over me. As I peeked into the cubby, all I saw was the same old predictable, massive pile of papers laying in wait. Confused, I reached for the stack when something caught my eye. Sitting innocently under the pile was a tiny green pumpkin...with a massive dead vine attached to it. I cocked my head to the side and looked at Emma unsure of what this was. There must have been some mistake. "Emma is this your pumpkin?" "Yes," she said sure as ever. I tipped it up and my worst fears were confirmed when I saw her name scrawled across the bottom.

At this point I started to laugh because really, what can you do? Certainly not be upset that your 3 year old brought home the great pumpkin's severely underdeveloped cousin. Of course something like this would happen, it's a metaphor for my life! Even expecting a normal outcome from something so small was too much to ask. I could not even count on having my kid get an orange pumpkin in a world seemingly full of them. Was I being over dramatic...perhaps. As long as Emma was happy, I was ok with the outcome.

That's when my sister shed some light on the situation for me, how special this pumpkin was. Out of twenty some kids, mine was the only one who picked a green pumpkin. She saw the uniqueness and potential in it and wanted to bring it home. She didn't need an orange pumpkin. In fact to her, a big, round, orange pumpkin did not mean perfection. This little green pumpkin, that would have probably been over looked and ended up pumpkin mush, is now adorning Emma's craft table in all it's mighty green glory. Once again, I find myself learning a lesson  from my child, something I knew already but am grateful for the reminder of. There is beauty in everything and maybe even more so in the differences in life. Also, my kid isn't a crowd follower. She really does move to the beat of her own unique drum. I'm so glad I had the opportunity to be reminded of that on a random Monday night.

I wanted to add this picture her school sent home later in the week of her lovingly picking her pumpkin!

The Awkward Mom

I know at least some of you have been there, it’s 6:30am, the coffee pot is gurgling, the dogs are restless for their breakfast, and your toddler’s hair resembles the rat king’s lair. It’s like cribs, rat addition and you could swear you see pizza rat’s pizza in there, fresh with subway grime. After dealing with that situation and trying to throw together some semblance of a healthy lunch you swore you would make the night before, naturally, you get excited when you are ready to head out the door on time. With one fuzzy foot out the door you suddenly realize…you’re still wearing your house slippers.

That is pretty much me the two days a week I take my daughter to school. I foolishly forget that everything takes twice as long in the morning and end up waiting until the last minute to fix her lunch and her hair and make sure she has underwear on (that’s a whole other story.) The last thing I think about is my own appearance. I mean it’s almost a cruel joke that I get to work from home and spend two glorious days looking like a homeless (yet comfortable) bag lady from the  “people of Walmart” site only to have it taken away by a 5 minute public appearance I make at preschool drop off.

There are mornings where I say “f” it and roll up hard core in baggy sweat pants (usually the ones without holes) and whatever wrinkled shirt I can find (or slept in the night before, let’s be honest). But every now and again I do run into other parents at the school and every time I go in looking particularly rough I do get the side eye from the teachers. So in a desperate need to not be shunned by society or give my kid the bad name of “one who has the slob for a mom”, I went to the store to find some respectable, casual, mom clothes.

Before you think I’m a heathen, I do own nicer, casual clothes, just not many (in fact my entire wardrobe is very minimalist these days or should I say has been for the past few years.) Anyways, I marched into the store determined and could not for the life of me figure out what a decent, standard mother would wear. I’ve seen tons of mom blog posts explaining what the “perfect mom” outfit is but I just can’t accept anything that is not comfortable to wear. So after much indecisive thought, I came out with two polo shirts and some flesh colored capris that I didn’t really like. POLO SHIRTS people! Like I’m Miffy about to meet Scott on his Yacht. Nope. Since then I have managed to pull together a few looks that say “I’m not trying to offend your eyes today” every now and then. I am really just hoping people see me as a competent and loving mother.

So far, I seem to have been accepted into the group of mom’s in Emma’s preschool class. They all know each other already being from the same neighborhood and having their kids start together in the 2 year old program (Emma started late, after Christmas.)  I really want to feel like part of the gang but I’ve never done this mommy friend thing before. It’s kinda nerve wracking. I guess maybe I’m trying to get too much out of it. I can’t expect to make best friends but I do want someone to commiserate with over the cranky no nap days and the dreaded sandbox shoes. I just need to work on my conversation skills I guess. It’s crazy after reading this blog you’d think I have enough wit to unload some funny wine jokes or come up with an attention grabbing discussion about the coveted Paw Patrol light up shoes all the kids have in Emma’s class. Yet for some reason, I freeze up. Maybe I’m afraid I will say something not funny or offensive. Here I go with needed to be accepted again. Harking back to my own childhood days where I was definitely an outcast (but loved it.) It's like the recess and cafeteria rules from childhood all over again only this time I'm parading around in a Kmart polo shirt and an odd shade of khaki capris. I guess I just don’t want to be labeled the awkward mom. But really, maybe what I should do is invite all of the moms over to drink in our sweatpants. Maybe we can go wild and bond over shopping for ill fitting clothing online together. At least that keeps me out of the store and less likely to end up on any offensive websites. 

The Imaginary Birds

I often wonder at the imaginations of children. How do they so effortlessly create magical worlds out of nothing? How is it so easy for them to string together innocent word dew drops to form honey so sweet you have no choice but to buy into it? I don't know how they learn to stretch the truth or flat out lie so convincingly. I think I read somewhere it has to do with survival of the fittest. They teach themselves to lie in order to make it through the rough existence of crayons and endless recess I guess. Now for adults, lying is second nature. It is a form of survival of the fittest, more so siding with societal self preservation. We know what it takes to make it in this world, fighting hard to conform and fit in. Making sure we appear sane and lucid when really we are just livin on a prayer. Heck, it's hard enough trying to figure out what to wear to pick your kid up on days you work from home (most of the time sweatpants still win) so you don't offend the other parents and administrators without having to constantly lie to keep the weirdness of your family from being known by the good folks at your child's school. Unfortunately, these specific set of circumstances collided and I found myself a co-conspirator in a fantastic imaginary world as designed by my three year old.

And so the story goes that one warm, sunny September afternoon I picked up Emma just like every other day (only this day was an office day so I was wearing appropriate, mature adult attire). Emma was playing near her new teacher. I smiled and did what I always do, prepare an elaborate scheme to get Emma to leave without throwing a fit. Today gave way to a surprisingly easy departure and we waved good-bye to her friends as we made our way into the school to grab her lunch box and the large quantity of art projects, beginning of the year school forms, and other random bits of paper that only ever make it to the front seat of my car. On this particular day, unknown to me, we were followed inside by her teacher taking another kid to the bathroom. This detail will become important later so keep it in the back of your mind while I host a brief intermission to provide a short back story.

Emma changed classrooms this year which meant all of her belongings in her cubby moved to a new cubby outside her new classroom. Now I'm not one to question cubby space usage, although I did notice a week or so ago that there was a box in her cubby that I hadn't put there. I questioned it at first but then it just blended into the wooden siding and it never crossed my mind again...until....

I reached in and grabbed that day's mountain of paper. Emma reached her hand in after and pulled out the box. It was a colorful box. It was heavy and made a noise when you shook it. "Look mommy it's our bird food!" "Oh you mean for the birds in your classroom." "No mommy, for OUR birds." Before I could even process what was going on...

*Enter Emma's teacher* "Oh yeah Emma told me you guys have birds. We don't have birds in the classroom any more so I gave her the food to take home to your birds." Had her teacher not been in the hallway at that exact moment my fried after work brain would have shaken off Emma's story and the bird food would have ended up back in her cubby, but at this point there was a lucid adult involved in this scenario. I also might not have mentioned this in detail but my brain logic and reasoning is diminished from working all day so at this point I'm not at my peak for adult conversation. Ok, maybe this is a lame excuse for what happened next because I have no idea how this happened except to assume it was a verbal reflex. Like at this point in my day I am reduced to responding "yeah yeah" to all of the cries of "look at me" and "watch this." So somehow having complete knowledge of the fact that we do not own birds as pets and never will with 4 dogs, I responded, "Oh yes, the birds. Thank you." It's like my mind went into autopilot and I entered the world of mindless agreement only this time I entered into the dangerous world of a toddler lie without fully understanding what was going on. I had somehow grabbed my toddler's outstretched hand and followed her through the looking glass. I had just let my child lead me into a very real lie. We had created imaginary birds.

Of course later that day I had to come clean with my husband when he came home and saw a box of bird seed sitting on the counter (pictures above.) After laughing hysterically for a while I got a bit of a (well deserved?) lecture. How could I lie about having birds and deprive some very deserving, well meaning birds from this food?!?! Little Billy or Jane at school might have birds that could have really used this food. At this point, I knew what had to be done but how does one undo a vicious lie about made up birds? I could not see a way out of this without dragging the Patterson name through the mud.

I ended up speaking to Emma about why she said we had birds. She said she wanted to get some birds to feed. I thought back to the birds at our local pool who we feed a couple of times and decided that was it, she had remembered our fine feathered friends at the pool and was just thinking of them. So in a way, we DID (?) have birds...to feed that is. Not a lie necessarily, just a small technicality. We did have birds to feed, just not any that reside at our house.

Well the next day when I went to pick Emma up, apparently she had shared our bird conversation with her teacher who is no fool (in fact being a preschool teacher she is sharp as a whip). Her stern, yet forgiving eyes looked up at me as I approached, "you guys don't have birds, do you?" There was no hiding and only a small window with which to save face. "No, we don't have birds but we do feed the birds outside."  "Ah, ok." And just like that, it was over. Emma has not been shunned and I managed to take a "misunderstanding" and revert it back to a happy ending Mary Poppins song. And next time, I will stop and think before blurting out whatever rolls off my tongue in a mindless afternoon haze.

Nighttime Difficulties

Well folks we haven’t discussed behavioral issues around these parts for a while so I guess we are overdue. To cut to the chase, basically, Emma is getting up in the middle of the night every night. I think she is in a phase where she is scared of the dark/ monsters but it has gotten so bad I am at a loss for what to do about it.

We changed her crib to a big girl bed a few months back and everything was going ok until probably the end of July. Ever since then, every night she has been getting out of her bed and either sleeping on the couch in the living room, bringing one of the dogs into her room to sleep, or coming into our room to get in our bed. We have had many, MANY discussions about the whole thing. She knows not to get out of bed. We have discussed at length the fact that monsters are not real. We originally also went back and forth about having a pull up on her at night but finally decided after changing wet sheets for several nights in a row that the pull up needed to stay on. She is comfortable with it on but that problem persists.

We got her one of those pillows that lights up and that seemed to work for a while but all of a sudden it was not enough to “keep the monsters away.” So we got her a little lamp. All that seemed to do was ensure she was wide awake in the wee hours. And I am now at my wits end. I am exhausted and sleep deprived and there seems to be no end in sight. We are going to see about getting a smaller night light to see if that works but after that I have no clue what to do. Everything I have read says just to walk the kid back to their bed until they get the hint. Well I’m hoping my kid will get the hint before college because I can’t live like this for the rest of my life and I know not getting an uninterrupted night of rest is not healthy for Emma.

Has anyone gone through this? Any recommendations?

We Made it This Far

Last week was Emma’s first week in the full time preschool classroom. She is still at the same school but has moved from the two year old classroom to the 3/4 year old classroom. Already after a week, I feel like her vocabulary has exploded even more. In fact just the other day, I asked her to come to the table for dinner. She spun around and looked at me and using air quotes said, "mommy I am working on a “project” right now. I will be there in a minute.” Ummm who did she learn air quotes from?  Don’t get me wrong, the 2 year olds were fun and all, but these older kids are real chatter boxes, full of questions and opinions. They are certain of themselves and hold such a refreshing (yet sometimes hard to work with) self-confidence. I hope they don’t let life ruin that wonderful quality.

I look back on the journey we went on to get here and while it has only been 3 years in the making, it has nonetheless been a journey of major milestones, heartbreaks, and incredible accomplishments. I remember back to Emma’s first few months at daycare and how I couldn’t bear to leave her. I would visit her on my lunch break every day and race to pick her up the minute the clock hit 3:30pm. She wasn’t a very good napper and she had to always be sitting up to see what was going on. In many ways, being a baby didn’t agree with Emma. I understand it wasn’t her thing but I also feel like I didn’t get enough time with her as a baby. She walked at 10 months and started talking right around then too. And as soon as she started moving she never stopped.

I remember the last time I went to visit her at daycare during my lunch break. She was going through separation anxiety and I knew I would not be able to stop in and see her during the day anymore because it caused both of us too much emotional stress. It was a sad but necessary moment. We finally cut the invisible umbilical cord to live our separate lives. It's true if you think about it no two people, no matter how much time they spend together encounter the same life experiences and I didn't realize it until after I had her but we were destined to live our own experiences. Drop offs went from easy to difficult, to nearly impossible, and then back to manageable again. Eventually, she moved into the toddler room. Sometimes I would catch a glimpse of her class at the playground out the window of my building. I loved watching her run and play and seeing her interact with the other kids. I got the opportunity to see her enjoying her day when I otherwise wouldn't have. The next thing I knew, she moved into her first two year old classroom. At this point, she had become fiercely independent. I remember going to see her for their Halloween party and she was upset that I came. I wasn’t supposed to be there I guess. Well, who really understands the logic of a two year old?

And finally now, she is in a preschool room at a new school where she will learn her letters and all sorts of new exciting things. They have a hamster, turtles, birds, and fish in her classroom. They will be doing show and tell once a week to develop their public speaking skills. They will go to the pumpkin patch and have a Christmas pageant and all sorts of wonderful other activities that big kids get to do. She has become so well adjusted to her school that I actually feel bad picking her up now because I am taking her away from time she has to play with her friends. She has real little friends! I never thought we would get to this point. I am definitely going to hold onto these next two years. I understand this is a special time before homework piles up after school and classmates become overwhelming, before she is just a tiny fish in a huge system, before the number of sports and instruments she plays is a big deal, before her thrift store clothes are no longer good enough, before she doesn’t want me to kiss her good bye. But for right now, I am proud of us all as a family, we made it this far.

Summer Vacation and the Cautionary Tale of Jungle Jim’s

I am so thrilled that this summer has been so positive and that I have the means/ energy to blog about our summer vacation which I did not have last year. This year we visited the Eastern Shore (Delaware to be exact.) Last year we went to the Gulf Coast which was amazing as well. But the best part of this year’s trip? Going with family. It was great to spend time with my mom, my sister, her husband, and my niece. The week really flew by so fast and I find myself daydreaming of the ocean breeze and warm sand when I’m trapped in my cubical under the harsh fluorescents. It really reminds me that sitting inside all day long to work is totally unnatural but it’s a means to a way so anyways…

We arrived to the beach on Saturday afternoon and despite leaving at 8am in the morning, it ended up taking us almost 4 hours to get there rather than the normal 2.5. Needless to say everyone else was ready to head out of town the same time we were. Also to note, 4 hours in a car with a 3 year old when you lose the remote for the dvd player in the car is no fun. I only heard second hand/ saw the aftermath because I was peacefully cruising along in my mom’s car for the ride. Sorry Emma, not that I didn’t want to ride with you in daddy's car but Nana needed me to drive (and maybe it was nice not to have to dig out snacks and crayons every 2 minutes).

The house we stayed at was so spectacular, Emma called it the GRAND new house (instead of brand new) and proceeded to tell us she never wanted to leave. With an open floor plan, large island, and jetted tub in the master bathroom (also duel shower heads in the shower) mommy didn’t want to leave either. This also added fuel to my redecorating our house fire (post on that hopefully to come.) I almost felt bad because I know in my heart of hearts that unless some magical lottery winnings pop up, we will never own a home like that. But I know it’s not the house itself that makes it a home but rather the family in it.

 (But just in case you were wondering, here is just PART of the incredible bathroom. So big all of us and the dog fit in there with room to spare. Yes, it's bigger than our current bedroom.)

Of course we hit up the beach almost every day and the cousins played together well for the most part. I can’t wait until Emma’s little cousin can run and play with her even more! The other big thing we did was go on the rides at the boardwalk. Last year, when we visited the beach for a few days with friends, Emma was unsure about the rides. This year…well she could not run and hop on them fast enough. She rode every ride there she was big enough to ride…twice! Seems as though we have a thrill seeker on our hands. Thankfully, but somewhat terrifyingly, Emma is not scared of heights. I’m grateful because I am deathly afraid of heights and I feel like I’ve missed out on some experiences because I have mild panic attacks even one floor up and I don’t want my kid going through that. On the other hand, it worries me that she has no fear, like um you should not be thrusting your body out of a high flying ride…

There was a gorgeous little playground on the other side of the house that had a turtle pond and we spend quite a bit of time there as well. There were lots of fish and probably 20 or so turtles (even a giant grandpa turtle!) Emma had to go visit them almost every day!

So besides that, we spent our time eating a ton and walking around town a whole bunch and that pretty much sums up summer vaca 2015…except for the story of Jungle Jim’s...

It wouldn’t be a Patterson/ DeCaro vaca without some oddity encroaching on an otherwise mundane trip. And this oddity is a duzie…it is none other than the mysterious curse of Jungle Jim’s. Now I’m quite sure if you google it a picture will pop up…heck maybe even a website dedicated to “fun beach side attractions” might rear its head but don’t be fooled. There are those of us who know the truth about Jungle Jim’s, the sad, scary truth, and I’m here to share it with you. It is a cautionary tale so beware. I should probably start this story back from the beginning…15 years ago, with two girls and a dream…

The story starts with my sister and her high school friend to be exact, two innocent vacation goers who were looking for some water fun that did not involve going in the freezing cold, choppy, shark infested (eh ok might have put that one in there for dramatic effect) waves of the Atlantic. It was any normal kid’s dream really…enjoying the non-salty, non-threatening waters of a water park. The first year they drove down the attraction filled main drag leading to the beach they saw it, Jungle Jim’s (or so the sign read.) From a great distance, erected into the cloudless summer sky, the monstrous, multi-colored water slides can be spotted defying gravity, magically floating above the Earth. And much like the gingerbread house from Hansel and Gretel, the park beckoned them to come. Well it turned out that that fateful year, one thing lead to another and before the girls realized it, their week at the beach was over and it was time to go home. They never made it to the water park. Somehow, with all of its magical, kid friendly appeal, Jungle Jim’s had fallen off their radar. It was almost as if it was a dream, something they conjured up in the moment. They ended up leaving the beach and with it, Jungle Jim’s unexplored, in their rear view mirror, without too much of a thought. It was all but forgotten.

I would discuss the girl’s trip to the beach the following year in as much detail but the end result was the same…the promises of refreshing, man made water fun, while high on their priority list of things to do…never. got. done. And every year as they rode out of town in that old blue Honda Civic the same haunting words were uttered, “Well, we’ll go for sure next year.” And yet year after year, Jungle Jim’s was discussed but never visited. It became a silent, colorful shrine to the unknown. A place full of untapped potential and wonder that no one would completely understand. It almost seemed like the place, well, wasn’t real. For a not so well known philosopher once said “If you don’t go to Jungle Jim’s does it even exist?”

Fast forward the story to the present day to a pleasant extended family vacation to the beach. A new generation of girls takes the place of the teenagers. These girls, toddlers, and their doting fathers found themselves in the same dreamy vacationer frame of mind...they wanted refreshing water fun for their children away from the burdensome ocean. A place where their daughters could frolic freely without any concern for their safety from the unpredictable elements of the ocean. Finally, one of the dads casually says,"I saw a place on the drive in...Jungle Jim's...I think we should take the girls." Slowly, my sister and I glanced at each other sideways. Our eyes met in a look of all knowing horror. And in a twisted tone of disgust, my sister spoke what we know to be the truth..."Jungle Jim's...DOES NOT EXIST." 

This of course led to a 6 day battle of the spouses. "Of COURSE it exists! We saw it! There's a website for it too!" "That means nothing!" I shouted back. "Like the quest for the Holy Grail, Jungle Jim's is a mystery to never be solved. Something that for all intents and purposes SEEMS tangible but is not there." "It is a mirage that waits you in the East Coast sand." And my sister explained it best of all, "Jungle Jim's is the matrix, get too close and you will see that it is a figment of your imagination!" 

On day two of the trip the husbands were determined. By day four, they were still set on going, our voices falling on def ears. By day 6.5, something happened. A quiet had settled over the house. And just like every year before...Jungle Jim's was...forgotten. Something that meant so much suddenly vanished from the realm of possibility without anyone realizing where the desire to go went. My sister and I had known what was to come. And once again at the end of that fateful week...we left Jim's in the dust. 

So there you have it, a little long winded but the truth, the cautionary tale of Jungle Jim's.

What Was Going to be a Prologue

I thought I would prelude this post with a few quick updates, mainly, we got a computer! It is used/ two years old but I am super thrilled to finally be able to post pictures again and hopefully post more often! Blogging on a phone is really difficult and small, everything it so freakin small. Also, I have been doing some other various projecty type things. I am attempting to learn how to sew. My first attempt was not a complete failure but I learned my lesson and will not be “eye balling” patterns going forward. I made Emma a planets dress (pictured below because yeah bad ass computer haver here).

I started working from home two days a week which is awesome however… I was sitting at home one day and  the walls of my abode started attacking my peripheral, and all of a sudden, I had a freak out because the house is a cluttered mess and literally the walls were closing in and I couldn’t take it anymore!  So later that day, I halted everything and in mid-dinner prep, I decided all of the pictures on the walls needed to come down and new art work needed to go up. I painted these all in like an hour and a half because my hands just needed to move and create.

I’m somewhat pleased with them although I am sad my white paint ran out so I might do some touch ups later after a trip to the craft store. I am close to pulling the trigger on bright colorful pillows for the couches. I am also
on the hunt for a bench to replace the huge comfy chair that I love so but never gets used. We keep it covered so the dogs don’t get on it and ruin it (in fact if you have ever noticed chairs on top of furniture in my pictures in the past it is to save everything from the dogs.) So basically we have had this huge lump just sitting in our living room for over a year and it takes up so much space and we basically use it to throw junk on so it’s a huge junk lump and I finally snapped and it HAS TO GO. Other various organizational projects will happen in time around the rest of the house but I’m hoping this new organizational energy is being gifted to me from the universe as a sign that we will be moving soon. As in my urgent need to declutter will perfectly sync up with finding a new house. By soon I mean within the next 6 months to a year. The clock is ticking and we really only have t-minus two years until Emma is ready for kindergarten aka: we need to be in a better school district by then. Once again, I have been lazily clinging onto our house for the convince of the location only. There is no way we can move anywhere nearby as everything is way to pricey around these parts.

Once we move it will be crappy commuting for all and I’m really REALLY trying to avoid that. I am planning on writing a farewell to our neighborhood once we leave or possibly a post on the advantages of living in the neighborhood we do but that’s for another day. Anywho this prologue seems to have turned into a post in and of itself as I describe in detail my homebound psychotic meltdown and subsequent ramblings on about the geography of where I live (my cartography skills are amazing I know.)

We are getting ready to depart for a week to the beach and while I’m hoping to write, I am also hoping to rest, to not stare at any computer screens, and to eat lots of boardwalk food. Have a good week everyone!