Geisha School Dropout

Word of the Week GIVEAWAY #3!

Congratulations to Angie from Texas, who won last week's Shu Uemura cleansing oil giveaway!

Hrm...the last commenter won the first giveaway, and now the first commenter won this time.  Random.org is trying to tell me something.

Angie's sentence: Despite years of training, my husband is not biddable. Trust me. There are still underwear NEXT to the laundry hamper.

Gurrrrrrl, ain't that the truth!

Okay, this week's prize is going to be: The Mang Family Arts and Crafts Pack.  It will include a piece of cross stitch art sewn by yours truly, drawings from Emi and Isaac, and the biggest rainbow pack of Sharpies I can find at the office supply store.

 

This week's word is actually pretty useful: ERUCTATION.

Erucation means: an act or instance of belching.

Example sentence: After consuming too much pool boy essence, the lonely housewife fell victim to a fit of chlorine-flavored eructation.

Thanks, and good luck!

Love Blankie

After we dropped Tim off at the airport yesterday, the kids and I went shopping at the craft store. I was hoping to maybe find something that would act as a transition object while Tim is out of town, but being the most pathetic of crafters, I wandered aimlessly through the cinnamon-scented aisles.

I needn't have worried: Emi found her own therapy in a yard of fleece she unearthed from the remnant pile. It was pink and purple with "I love Daddy" and "I love Mommy" written all over it. Those are the two main themes in Emi's artwork and overall philosophy, so she fell in love with it right away. Because it was scrap fabric, it only cost $4, and Emi thought it was already so perfect, she didn't even want Mama to finish the edges.

She announced, "I feel extra safe and warm with my new Love Blankie"!

She still snuck into my bed, though. :P I didn't mind.

Sounds of Saturday: Howard Jones Triptych

Tim is on a jet plane en route to Tokyo, and since he was singing "No One is to Blame" to himself as he was packing this morning, I have Howard Jones on the mind.

 

 

 

As a side note, why does it seem to get harder to be apart from each other over the years rather than easier?  Even with Tim's shifted schedule where he can't eat dinner with us anymore, I can definitely tell the difference when he's away, especially at night after the kids are in bed and the day's chores are done.  I have trouble falling asleep, and my dreams are fraught with anxiety and dread.  Am I softening in my old age?

Riding with Abe and Louie

Today, I took an early lunch break to volunteer at my local Meals on Wheels chapter.  Basically, Meals on Wheels cooks and delivers hot lunches and cold dinners to clients in the local community every weekday, mostly to seniors and the terminally ill.

Since it was my first time, I was invited to shadow an established driver/deliverer pair: Abe and Louie (not their real names, although their real names are MUCH cooler).  Louie, the driver, was probably in his seventies and walked with a cane, so that made him unable to haul the meals from the van to the door.  That job was left to Abe, who was probably pushing 90 and so adorably tiny, I couldn't help but be surprised when he introduced himself to me as the muscle of this operation.

I was always taught to revere my elders by doing things for them, so I hopped around like an overzealous toady, trying to carry things for Abe.  To his credit, he didn't seem annoyed when he reassured me he was totally able to handle the coolers himself.

Our route stopped at 6 houses, and my eyes misted over at every stop.  Not from pity, mind you, but from being greeted and thanked with smiles of such brilliance and sincerity, I couldn't look at them head-on.  

(Let me stop for a second and ask you: when was the last time someone was really, really happy to see you?  I know my kids do this sometimes, but coming from people who were not obligated to like me, it felt amazing.)

There were couples who ate their meals together in the dining room, singletons hanging out with caregivers, one young veteran battling cancer.  Some houses, I was informed that we were the only source of human contact they will get for the day.  I felt honored to be invited into their homes.  I fell in love with every single one of them.

At the end of the route, there were a couple extra jugs of milk and juice, and Louie thrust them into my arms, demanding that my kids drink them.  I felt my eyes well up in gratitude, and I didn't know why until now: I may not be bedridden or ill, but working from home, I have become a bit isolated myself.  Therefore, it is not often that I come in contact with pure human kindness in such quantities.  And now I also realize why I felt compelled to sign up for this every Friday morning from here on out: to bask in more of it, and for the opportunity to pay that kindness forward.

Please consider volunteering your time at your local Meals on Wheels chapter, especially as orders ramp up and regular volunteers leave town over the holiday season.

More on Therapy

A couple people asked after Emi, so I thought I'd clear a couple things up. Emi, as we all know, is Emi, and the discipline problems she's had over the years have pretty much held steady. However, now that she is almost six and in kindergarten, the same behavior patterns (getting frustrated, then taking it out on the authority figure through defiance and "strikes") just don't fly anymore. Her peers are a little afraid of her, so she is not making friends, and although her teacher has figured her out quite a bit, it would really help if Emi fulfilled her side of the bargain and learned some coping mechanisms.

I decided to seek out a therapist on my own accord; no teacher or doctor demanded I get one. I thought we could try out a counselor who specialized in kids, and so far, things are going great. They do play a lot with puppets, but it's not cheesy at all, and DEFINITELY not like Mr. Garrison and Mr. Hat from "South Park." Emi hasn't revealed her inner thoughts through puppet play, but rather while she is concentrating on setting things up or playing with other toys, the therapist inserts little points of conflict or other social scenarios. Maybe her puppet wants to play a different game than Emi's puppet, or she "accidentally" knocks over a piece of scenery, or she inserts herself into Emi's solitary play, to show some examples. Then she and Emi practice resolving the conflict together.

I really should have been doing this stuff all along. I can't help but beat up on myself lately, but I try to remember what the counselor told me: that I did really well in some realms, like fostering independence, critical thinking, problem solving (when it pertains to other people or external situations), imaginative play, and confidence. No one can cover all the bases equally well, I suppose. But still, it's my kid who's in therapy, so I definitely am eating lots of humble pie. Good thing I have no problem with outsourcing!

Have any of you had any experience with therapy, either for you or your child? Do you think it helped?

Two Emi Stories

Today was Emi's therapy day.  The facility is a Craftsman bungalow with the rooms converted into offices.  Emi's therapist specializes in play therapy, so she and Emi talk about what happened during the week and mutually problem-solve while they play with blocks and puppets.  It's all very cool and adorable.  

However, adults get seen there too, and some of them are pretty disturbed.  Today, Emi had to use the bathroom, and it was occupied for a while by a young man.  When he finally came out, I opened the door and was just socked in the face by the smell of fresh jizz.  Emi wrinkled her nose and said, "This bathroom doesn't smell right!" but started pulling her pants down.  I tackled her, wanting to inspect the toilet seat first, and thankfully, it was dry.  I still made her hover, though.  

*************************************************

After therapy was over, Emi got to choose something out of the snack bowl.  As usual, she picked up a lollipop and stuck it into her mouth.  "Look, Mom!  I'm cigaretting!"  She struck a Marlboro-man-meets-James-Dean cool guy pose.  I was mortified. 

"Where did you learn what cigaretting is?"

She looked at me like I was in idiot.  "From Red Ribbon Week, MOM."

Thank you, DEA, for teaching my baby about drugs.

Kiddo Korrespondence

Word of the Week GIVEAWAY #2!

Congratulations to Dusty for being randomly selected to win the $50 Amazon gift certificate!  I will contact you shortly.

Here is Dusty's hilarious use of the word "gorgonize":

Using the word gorgonized is very challenging and spell check says that it's misspelled and it suggested that I should use the word organized instead.

 

This week's prize is a 450 mL bottle of Shu Uemura brightening cleansing oil.  I use this on my face instead of soap or foam to remove make-up and cleanse, all in one step.  Retail price is $81, and the reason why I'm giving it away is that one of these puppies lasts me a year, and when I reordered one recently, I didn't realize I had already received one as a gift a few months back.  So, might as well share the wealth!

The non-soapiness takes a little bit to get used to, but let's face it peoples: no one's skin benefits by stripping away all the natural oil it creates.  Dry skin gets drier, oily skin makes more oil to compensate.  These cleansing oils leave your skin clean and baby-bottom soft, and this specific formulation works to even out skin tone and fade sun and age spots.

In order to win, all you have to do is leave a comment below using the latest Word of the Week: BIDDABLE.

Biddable means: easily led, taught, or controlled.  Synonym: docile

Example sentence: The pool boy turned out to be the labrador retriever of lovers: biddable and eager to please.

Good luck to all!

Numeracy Rant

Lately there have been rumblings in social media by women, mothers mostly, either stating or demonstrating a severe lack of math skills. It usually manifests in tweets or throw-away mentions such as "Johnny needed help with his homework today and I suck at math!" And Johnny is in third grade.

That makes me really worried about the future, because innumeracy is just as progress-limiting as illiteracy. Would anyone humble-brag that they could not parse a sentence in "The Babysitters Club" or not be able to spell the word "street"? Then why is it okay to throw one's hands up and give up on knowing basic mathematical survival skills?

Of course, I do not expect everyone in America to be able to throw down a Riemann summation 20 years after their last math class, but I hope to God that most people, and yes, even housewives (I'm being sarcastic of course), remember how to calculate the correct change when the total is $17.49 and they are given a $20 bill, that .2 == 20% == 2/10 == 1/5, or how to calculate the area of a rectangle when given the length and width.

This is a real-life example from today: an Etsy seller was selling a set of bangle bracelets. Someone asked her the size of the bangles, which is of course a totally reasonable question. The seller responded, "The inner diameter is 2.5 inches."

The original commenter FREAKED OUT, saying, "2.5 inches??? That's like a child size! I could never fit that over my hand! Darn!"

-__- I understand most bracelet sizes are labeled in terms of circumference, so a typical size would be 7-8 inches. Yes, 2.5 inches sounds like a remarkably small bracelet. But people, let's please raise our personal standards to be able to calculate the circumference of a circle when given the diameter. Please???

Okay, had to get that off my chest. :P I understand I must come off as a math snob.

Sounds of Saturday: "La La La" by Snoop Lion

 I have a huge soft spot in my heart for Snoop.  He's from the LBC and went to Poly High, apparently a shy kid who married his high school sweetheart, is tall and skinny and slightly awkward, but when behind a mic, man....funny and intelligent shit happens.

So apparently he recently changed his nom de plume (More like nom de BOOM!  Amirite???  Anyone? Ahem, sorry.) to Snoop Lion and will be releasing a reggae album soon.  I'm sure it all seems silly, but I for one trust this man to know what he's doing artistically.

"La La La" is the first single.  The video plays like an especially silly and trippy "Yo Gabba Gabba" sketch, but the song really jams!