From the "Out of the Mouths of Babes" file....

Sometimes I think I liked my kids better when they could just lie on the floor and drool all over themselves--but, then I remember the diapers, formula, baby food and all those other wonderful expenses that don't suck the last nickle out of my monthly budget anymore. Now that both my girls think they know more than me, those days seem almost "nostalgic".

Erin, the 4 year old, has become our resident one-liner/funny observation maker...Here's just a sample of her latest gems:

Last weekend as the family enjoyed a dinner out at a kid-friendly sit down restaurant, the girls were getting a litle--um--too loud for my liking. I glared sideways at Erin, immediately to my left, and muttered: "You keep this up and I'm gonna stick my foot up your butt" After 30 seconds of her patented "boo-boo face", Erin goes, "But, it's small." Huh? is the only thing that I manage to say. She just keeps on going, "Mommy, my butt is small and your foot is wayyy too big to do that."

In the parking lot of same restaurant on the same evening, the girls are sitting in the back seat of daddy's hot new wheels. Jon mentions something about needing to put the manual brake. "Is the emergency brake on," curious Erin wants to know before getting out of the car. When Jon replies yes, she gives her stamp of approval: "Good, otherwise we'd roll down the hill just like a pumpkin!" [Note: I wasn't in the car, so I missed the hysterics that supposedly ensued after this comment.

Erin holds up a beautiful yellow dress that my mom sent to her. "I want to wear this to school!" she says, jumping up and down. "No," I tell her. "It's only for special occasions." With a look like I just popped her favorite balloon, she replies ,"But, mom, I AM SPECIAL!"

Yes, you are, you little smart ass...:)

Leap of Faith

"I need you to jump off a cliff..." President Josiah Bartlett, to his then-Press Secretary, CJ Cregg, right before appointing her to be his new Chief of Staff--The West Wing

I've been standing at the edge of a cliff for quite some time, now. I've kicked some stones over the ledge and watched them fall, smashing into tiny pieces into the ravine below. That seems like a good enough reason for me to back up to safer ground. For a while, I will move back and take in the view from a safer distance. Yet, something compels me to return to the edge time and time again.

"I need you to jump off a cliff..."

When it comes to my writing, I've stayed on the safe ground for most of my career. Actually getting started in the field was a huge risk, but after that, I met with some mild success and quickly got used to that feeling and the paychecks that went along with it. Somewhere along the way, the work aspect of my writing has eclipsed my true desire for the written word. Being a working writer is something I never thought I could accomplish and once I discovered that I could earn some decent money by writing, I got wrapped up in finding more ways to turn my passion in paychecks.

Somewhere along the way, though, I sold myself out.

I can't remember the last time I've been able to sit down and truly focus on my writing work. Manuscripts sit untouched, article ideas and queries continue bang around my brain, begging for release. That's when I'd teeter on the precipice, wondering what it was really like out there. If I jumped, would I simply come crashing down or would I find a way to keep myself afloat.

Turns out I've been sinking all along; it's just been a longer descent than the typical free fall.

I like the fact that I'm working steadily, but am I really putting myself out there? challenging myself? Taking risks? Not really. There's been a lot of thought, energy, frustration and discussion about what direction I should head in next. I've gone over it in my head hundreds of time and I keep returning to the same place.

It's time to take that big step off the edge and have some faith. Accomplishment is not always measured in dollars and cents, but in the satisfaction of producing something from deep within myself that I can take pride in. There is so much that I want to (no, need to) say. Not everyone may want to read it or hear it, but I'll never know if I keep it boxed up within me. There's room for earning money doing what I love, but I need to take a chance on myself and my talent--to extend myself beyond the security blanket that my writing jobs have become. The work should enable me to invest the time and expense involved in becoming the writer I've always wanted to be, no matter what the end result.

As I look down from the cliff, I'm taking a deep breath. I have no parachute: only a vague sense of faith in myself and what I can do if I make a true commitment.

It should be a fun ride. I hope you'll join me on this new journey.

Home vs. job: Are you fighting a losing battle? - Working Mom's Guide - MSNBC.com

Home vs. job: Are you fighting a losing battle? - Working Mom's Guide - MSNBC.com **Edited to add: I have yet to comment on this piece, but plan to tomorrow, when I can form more coherent sentences than the ones I just tried to construct. Thanks to those of you who have read and commented so far!

Strike Two...

If you read my earlier post from today, you'll know that my Mommy Morale was pretty low. I felt a little better after writing about it--sort of a purging, I guess. I got back to work and, knowing that Cailyn had a half day and that at least I wasn't causing my oldest any unnecessary angst.

About two minutes before I'm supposed to leave to pick up Cailyn at school, the phone rings. I almost ignored it in my rush to get out the door, but something made me stop and check the caller id:

City of Auburn...which only means one thing: Cailyn's school. Huh? Dismissal is just moments away.

"Hello, Marie, this is Kathy Arnoldy." (Cailyn's teacher)

So much for my day improving.

It seems as though my eldest child has been causing some commotion at school--for over a week! Acting up in class, not listening, and copping a major attitude.

The not listening and acting up is not unusual. Acting up for Cailyn is bluring out answers in her overzealous attempt to show her teacher how much she knows. It doesn't excuse her behavior, but it does explain it, and Kathy has always been very understanding and patient with Cailyn. I guess the addition of the attitude pushed things over the edge, and it has carried over to other classes like art.

So, I listened on the phone as Kathy described what's been going on--and she told me that Cailyn was standing right there so she could hear it--Cailyn was supposed to talk with me about what was going on in school. Based on the fact that I sounded shocked at this news, Kathy quickly figured out that I didn't get that update. I told her I'd be right down. When I picked Cailyn up, I set up a time for a conference with Kathy tomorrow morning.

I brought Cailyn home--she knew that we were due for a chat. After I cancelled a work appointment, we sat down.

She didn't seem very willing at first to tell me what was up her butt. At first, she talked about boys bothering her at school, but that sounded kind of lame to me...

In the end, she tearfully tells me that she's upset that I'm too busy with work to come volunteer anymore in her class.

Oh, my aching head....

During the fall, when business was very slow for me, I spent a lot of time in Cailyn's classroom. Ironically, I didn't work much with Cailyn while I was there, but it appears that my presence was what was appreciated the most. Since business has gotten crazy, I haven't been in her room for almost two months.

"You're too busy and I don't think you care anymore.." she cried.

I cried--again.

We had a long talk. I agreed that I would find time in my schedule to come in a few times a month, and she would work on her behavior and telling me when something is bugging her. I assured her that I love her very much, and that she's one of the most important things in my life.

I left teaching to spend more time with my kids. I reminded her of that, and the fact that I've never been a parent of an 8 year old girl. I said, "Sometimes I forget that just because you're a big kid, you still need me. I'm trying to balance giving you some independence and space with being there when you need me...I guess I still have a lot left to learn. I hope you'll help me out."

Cailyn also shared that she's pretty bored with the work she's doing in class, which again, comes as no big surprise. I've been waiting for the time when this would become a major problem in class. The dilemma is that Cailyn is ready for gifted work, but because she is acting out, there is some hesitation in putting her in a gifted classroom. I understand the dilemma, as a teacher. But, as a parent, I need to make sure that Cailyn's needs are being met, too. So, after Cailyn apologizes for her behavior during our conference, I'll talk with Kathy about the work issue.

All I can wonder now is, What Next??

I'm not sure I want to know that...at least not today.

Regretting Forgetting

From the file of things I do that will never earn me a Mother of the Year award...

Each morning, I drop Erin off at preschool. Fortunately, it is not a harrowing experience, as it can be for many parents. Still, Erin has been going through a bout of separation/transition anxiety lately. Every goodbye lasts longer so she can get "one last hug and kiss". Last week, she started going to one of the windows in the preschool and waving to me as I go to the car. Awwww...

Well, everything has been crazy lately. Work has me slammed against a wall right now (long story, will share in another post). Then, of course, there was Jon's car saga from last week, so my brain is still a bit, how shall I say it? Scattered.

This morning, one my friends dropped her son off to school. I haven't seen in her a while and it was so good catching up. We chatted about a baby shower we're going to on Saturday as well as making plans for Erin and I to get together with her and her son next Tuesday (Erin is moving down to three days a week at preschool--gotta pay for that new car somehow. ;)) Anyway, I stood there chatting away and after about 10 or 15 minutes, I got in the car to leave. I got to the end of the parking lot and there it was...

The window...

Oh God...I forgot to turn to the window when I walked into the parking lot and started talking to my friend.

Erin had been waiting...

This wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that earlier this week, I was in a rush to get to an appointment and I got about halfway to the car before remembering to wave. Fortunately, I caught her while she was still there. I could hear her crying through the window as I ran up to her. I don't know how many times I said I was sorry. I managed to console her and went on to the rest of the day...

Today, though. She was gone. All I had in my mind was the image of her at the window, seeing me chatting and me not waving back.

I swung the car back into the parking lot and ran inside. I had to apologize.

When I walked into the room, one of the teacher aides looked a little surprised at first to see me, but then I got a knowing glance. "She's not here. She went to tumblebus."

"Is she ok?" I managed to get out.

"She was upset", the aide said, "but she stayed with me."

Floor, please open up and swallow me right now, I prayed silently.

Erin's teacher, Donna, assured me that she was fine. I just stood in the room, feeling like the worst mother in the world. I couldn't move and couldn't say anything.

Donna asked me if I wanted to leave Erin a note that Donna would read to her when she got back from her gym class. I mumbled something and shook my head. She gave me a piece of paper and a pencil and I sat down to write. What the hell do I say?

Through silent tears, I managed some lame ass apology for forgetting her. I told her how much I loved her and that I would pick her up early today. It felt so pointless.

I gave the note to Donna, doing the best I could to keep it together. Donna assured me that Erin was fine, and would be fine. "You wave to her all the time, Marie. Don't worry about it." She was right.

But, it was little consolation for the blown opportunity today.

I left the preschool and stood near the bus where Erin was having her class. I wanted to climb on board, scoop her up and tell her how sorry I was. I heard the kids laughing and playing and decided it was better to leave things alone and let her get on with her day and enjoy herself.

As for me, I cried all the way home.

It's a moment that she'll eventually forget, but I'm sure that I won't. The thought that I made my little girl cry like that...well...just...there are no words.

Only regrets.

A do nothing kinda day

Today was one of those days that I know is sometimes necessary, but I still have some reservations about.

We didn't do a hell of a lot.

Ordinarily, our weekends are full of things to do, whether it's around the house or family outings. Our weekdays are crazy and, most weeks, the weekends aren't much better.

This weekend started out like most others. Our girls have been pretty good about not barging into our bedroom much before 8am. They'll just go into the living room and watch TV for a little bit, run around the house, scream and yell or whatever--I guess they forget that sound carries. But, at least they aren't pounding on the door at 7am.

By 8am, though, they usually come in and remind us that they need to eat, because apparently we starve them by not feeding them the moment they wake up. As I lay in bed this morning, willing myself to get a move on, Cailyn asks if she and Erin can paint. I hesitate, but in my half-conscious state, I agree, warning them to be careful and only to paint in the dining room. They promised they would. I have a plastic tablecloth on the table, so I knew they couldn't do too much damage.

About 10 minutes later, I'm downstairs and the dining room looks fine. As I head into the kitchen and ask the girls what they want for breakfast, I see it--red paint. It's all over my sink and the dishes in it, the backsplash, part of the counter. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that there had been some sort of sacrificial rite in my kitchen. The actual explanation made less sense then that, though:

"I needed to wash my brush," Cailyn explained.

That was the start of the day. I cleaned up the kitchen and then touched upon Cailyn's room (after debating with her about what cleaning it up really means).

After that, I decided I was done with chores for the day.

Things have been very busy lately, so I guess yesterday and today were sorta recharge days. Yesterday I screwed around with my blog. Today was my crochet--I'm trying to finish a baby gift for a friend of mine who may be having her first one any day now (say a prayer for her and her family, if you would. It's a long story, but believe me when I say prayers would be much appreciated). I started a sweater months ago; it was in a moment of insanity. I got to the armholes and realized I was out of my league. Instead, I'm working on a hooded blanket. I also have a couple hats made and need to do a couple of pair of socks. The baby shower is a week from today. I'm sure that it won't all be finished, but I can at least bring pictures of what I have done and bring along my other gift: diapers. I know, it doesn't sound like the best shower gift in the world, but as a mom, I can tell you that diapers are something that can always be used and they ain't cheap. I always buy a couple of large bundles in variuos sizes, so that mom and baby will have some for a while.

As for tomorrow, it's my birthday. The big 3-5. I'll reflect on that tomorrow, since it doesn't seem right to do it beforehand. I will say that it's not something I'm dreading. Jon and I have plans to go out, which we desperately need to do. Nothing fancy, but we should have a good time. And, that's what really matters. We haven't had alone time in a long while. I hope we remember what to say to each other ;)

Do-nothing days like today and yesterday are great, but I always feel a little bad: there are so many other things I could be accomplishing. There are just some times, though, that the brain says, "Nah, not thinking today..."

And, I decided not to fight it. That's what Mondays are for.

New Look

Seems like a lot of my blogging friends are changing things up, so in the interest of jumping on the bandwagon, I'm starting to renovate. Thoughts? Ideas of what to add, etc? Have a great weekend!

Our new arrival

It's been a long time coming, but we finally added a new member to the family.
We are proud to announce the new arrival of the Rossiter family. She's a definite beauty, although I realize that we are a biased. But, she's shiny, a metallic grey, new and all ours--actually, she's technically Jon's, so I'm not financially responsible for her, although I'm sure I'll wind up writing the checks each month LOL. Anyway, here's a photo:
NOT THE ACTUAL CAR--that photo is coming soon; it's dark out, after all!!!

Told ya that she's purty...hee hee She's a 2006 Saturn Ion 2

I gotta give Jon credit: he ran the last Saturn he owned into the ground, almost literally. His car was 13 years old and he fought tooth and nail to keep her around as long as possible. However, the clutch finally gave and the only way he could shift the car was doing a modified Flintstones routine of rolling the car, getting up or down to a certain speed and yanking the stick shift into the proper gear.

Unfortunately, we don't live near a Saturn dealer; the closest is about 30 miles away. So, we convoyed down to Westbrook, me following him to make sure his car just didn't keel over on the Turnpike. As soon as we turned into the dealer lot, our beloved Saturn gasped her last breath.

We had the girls with us, because I knew it would take a while to get things done down there. I love Jon, but he's not the most decisive person in the world. He also has some sort of disorder where is not able to estimate time very well. "Itlll only take about two hours," he claimed. I'm not sure what the precise conversion is between real time and his time (which I joke is EET: Electrical Engineering Time), but after being married to this wonderful man for almost 10 years, I know that it's about a 2:1 ratio.

Time of arrival: 12:30pm. Time of departure: 4:00pm.

That's right, folks. I hit the nail on the head.

To be fair, it wasn't entirely Jon's fault that there was such a delay. There is all the paperwork, getting the car prepped (I swear, I didn't know that they had to wash, wax, clean a brand new car that only has 6 miles on it!), there was a little thing with a seal that had to be fixed, which then led to another one being replaced, etc.

Still, it was worth it. The car is a winner. I sat in it for about 5 minutes right before we left and I had to drive my car back to Auburn. The girls, of course, dropped me and my "old" car like a hot potato. At one time, my car was "sooo cool". But, no sooner than the ink dried on the agreement, Cailyn cried, "I'm riding in the new car!!!" I should have felt rejected--yeah, I wasn't really. Maybe now my Grand Am can go back to being "my baby" and not Kiddie Central all the time. Again, in the interest of fairness, I do give Jon credit for allowing the kids in the car, period. Hell, on the way down to the dealership, Erin had to eat her lunch, since we picked her up before her lunch time at preschool.

Let me give you a little hint: Chef Boyardee Ravioli in a thermos and the back seat of a car--not the best combination.

But, it was my car, so it was all ok. I'm sure that the people at Jon's office didn't hear my little monologue of obsenities as I bolted out of the car, in the plant parking lot, and wipe up the browish-red mess that quickly oozed onto my seat. I'm not even sure what I did wipe it up with, so I guess I should go back there and take a peek before too long.

Food will be banned from Jon's car, I'm sure. Never let it be said that I don't teach my family valuable lessons.

All in all, like any new addition to a family, there was a little pushing, a little screaming, a lot of waiting and it was all worth it in the end.