Month 53

Month 53

Dear Olivia,

This post is brought to you by stress-eating.  I sit here stuffing my face with every last piece of chocolate I can find in an effort to calm my nerves from the most stressful walk I have ever been on.  I’m serious – I have a mouth full of chocolate raisins and what appears to be a very old peppermint candy I found from the bottom of a jar.  This is how badly I need sugar right now.  Our walks have been a bit intense lately now that you want to ride your bike and Miles wants to ride his car.  You throw in a high anxiety dog with a Napoleon complex and you have a recipe for a Zoloft worthy stroll.  You have only recently started getting good at riding your bike but you still have difficulty getting started and you down right refuse to put forth any effort when going up any sort of an incline.  Today’s jaunt involved you stopping a dozen times while going up a hill and each time you began to cry hysterically.  I’m trying to give you a push up the hill as Fabrizio catches a glimpse of a dog across the street.  He’s trying to run through your bike to get to the dog as you’re now screaming in hysterics about how you just can’t do it.  Meanwhile I’m screaming at Miles to move back because he likes to sit on the yellow bumper strip that sits right at the end of the sidewalk. 

We finally make it up the hill and you two take off down the hill.  Fabrizio is the dog that has to pee every six steps so I’m pretty much dragging him down the hill as I attempt to keep up with you and Miles as you two are about to barrel in to a very congested intersection.  I forgot how you have to mentally prepare yourself before entering a crosswalk.  We watched two cycles of the walk sign come and go before you were ready.  We enter the crosswalk where you begin to have some difficulty getting started again.  You decide that the middle of the intersection is the perfect place to have a full blown hysterical moment.  I’m trying to push you across as Miles stops to pick up a rock that has caught his attention.  All of this is unfolding as a dozen plus cars anxiously await the split second we move out of the crosswalk so that they can peel out to escape their Friday night commute.  This general theme of you stopping in busy intersections to have a complete meltdown continued for the rest of our walk.  Towards the end of our jaunt, Miles somehow blew through his rubber shoes and I didn’t realize he was rubbing his exposed toe against the sidewalk for about ten minutes.  I get the Mother-of the-Year award for screaming at Miles to move it or lose it – not realizing that he was actually rubbing the flesh off his toe.  Just add it to the list of topics you want to discuss with your therapist.

This week has been riddled with anxiety and I have the colon to prove it.  Your preschool is currently on the train to crazy town.  We’re coming out of a major scandal this week where apparently one of the teachers supposedly tied up a child’s wrists and ankles because the child refused to nap.  Now, I’m having a really hard time believing this story.  All of these teachers were friends and she even showed the picture to the mother of the child who just so happens to be a teacher at the school as well.  I’ve heard from several parents that this story was completely blown out of proportion.  I heard it was a joke where the girl used scotch tape and the child was smiling in the picture – not quite the horrific masking tape bounded torture case that the media was hyping.  What is even more suspicious about this story is that six well-loved teachers including your two teachers from last year, suddenly resigned in the middle of the school year leaving a bunch of two and three year olds without a permanent teacher.  These were teachers who have been at the school since the preschool opened in 2008.  Smells a little fishy. 

To add more to this drama worthy of a daytime movie, your preschool director suddenly resigned in the middle of last month with claims of sexual harassment and a case where apparently a teacher was held against her will.  Now, either all of this really happened and your school is already stationed in crazy town or we have quite a few Pleasanton mothers with some really creative imaginations.  Your Father and I even got to attend a parent’s only meeting where we witnessed parent’s screaming out random accusations towards the Pastor who totally reminds me of Flanders from The Simpsons.  I even got to tell a news camera, “I’m sorry – I can’t answer your questions.”  Totally made me feel like a celebrity.  The point is, you’re not aware of the craziness that is currently happening at your school but all the parents are running around squabbling amongst each other like we’re back in high school.  I’m seriously popping Acidophilus like candy to calm my bowels.

You began swimming again and much to my dismay, most of the teachers you knew and swam with are since gone.  I’m not a person who adapts well to change and fortunately for you, you’re not quite the basketcase I am when forced to work with a new face.  I was bummed to learn that you had regressed quite a bit from a year ago but just this past week, you moved up one level.  This was after I got all Helicopter-Mom on you and took matters in to my own hands by having our own bootcamp sessions in the water on the weekends.  Yup, I’m awesome.

There is a little girl in your swim class who you seem to like and play with and I’m sorry to say that you’re going to have to cease all contact with her immediately.  I met her Mother and she is a bit of a stress-case who is already in a bitter custody battle with the girl’s biological father and I’m fairly certain this child is going to have major parental issues when she’s a teenager.  Issues like she’s going to be a whore and steal so go ahead and play with someone who appears to have a stable relationship with their parents.  Edward for example, sweet boy – loves his Momma.  Perfect.

You have been quite the little creator lately.  You’re not just painting pieces, you’re putting on art shows where you name your abstract pieces really elaborate things.  You’re obsessed with Legos (finally) but you don’t just build houses or cars, you build stadiums.  What’s that about?

“An Astronaut Over the Moon and Grass”



 It’s kind of cool that you appear to like the arts.  You’re pretty crafty, you have a need to draw every time we’re in the car, you like to dance, you’re dramatic about everything and you love to sing.  When you accompany me on errands, I almost feel like I have a real life movie background track following me.  If you’re not singing Carly Rae Jepsen’s ‘Call Me Maybe,’ you’re singing the African chant from the Lion King.  I got to tell you, picking out cereal in Target has never felt more epic.

Like I mentioned earlier, I’m not one who adapts well to change and this month seems to be all about it.  Even my Starbucks is filled with new people who don’t know my drink as soon as I walk in the door.  All of this uncertainty has left me somewhat anxious this month and I’m certain you have felt the backlash as I scream at you for the littlest of things like brushing your teeth too slowly.  I almost had a heart attack yesterday when you jumped off the sidewalk in to the parking lot in the mall.  Not that we were any where near a moving car but it was the principle of the matter.  My only advice to you is to be as quiet as possible when I’m having these moments or get out of my way.  Neither seems to be within your means so good luck to you.  Now that I have almost devoured a fifteen ounce container of chocolate covered raisins, I’m going to go and find some stretchy pants. 




Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.