Girls in Their Underwear Taking Over the World

My 6-year-old has a bit of a fixation with girls' underwear. Is this a normal phase? (It's not one they put in the parenting books!)

This afternoon we played with our Cars movie cars, and one of the characters was at first capturing everyone else, and then suddenly he began to put purple girls' underwear on all his prisoners (this part is all imaginary, mind you -- the prison was made from Magnetix), and then it became an underwear store for the rest of the cars, with the prisoners now being models for all the different styles. One car ordered underwear with decals of underwear on it! Yikes.

That was probably my fault. I know he thinks underwear is funny, so yesterday I pointed out a drawing in a book we were reading, a little girl holding her dress up above her waist so you can see her panties.

Did I think that out first? Uh, no. Another brilliant parenting moment by moi.

"Why is she doing that?" DB asked after he stopped laughing. Well, the drawing shows break time at preschool, and the 2 kids to one side of this character have obviously just used the bathroom (one is getting his overalls snapped and a second is drying her hands on a towel). So I think that girl is next in the bathroom and she's getting ready.

And, preschoolers do that -- they don't know not to yet; in fact we had 2 of them in the front row of the winter concert hike their skirts -- so I think the artist was just being realistic. It's subtle, she's in the back of the picture (the main focus is on the 8 or so characters in the foreground having their snack).

But he really liked it ... to the point where tonight at bedtime he asked me, "Can you show me the picture of the girl in her underwear again?"

We looked at it again, and then he asked me, "Mommy, can you give me something to think about so I don't think about girls in their underwear, taking over the world? Because when I'm bored I think about that."

I made a suggestion based on the scenes we watched tonight from the Cars movie. But what on earth am I supposed to do with that knowledge about what's going on inside my son's head???

I did reassure him that girls and boys go back and forth liking and not liking each other and also noted that I didn't expect him to be thinking about that type of thing until oh, 7th or 8th grade.

Another Week Ends Without Haiku

Another week without haiku, sorry, Christina...

It's possible that PMS played a role in my lowness of feelings earlier this week
But I don't think that accounts for it all.

Pretty sure of it in fact.

Didn't get a call back yet from the agency I called Thursday at noon.

Good thing I wasn't at my wit's end. That's all's I'm sayin'.

Love Note to Dooce

Dear Heather,
I'm so glad your blog exists and that you are so honest about how you feel, otherwise I'd be even more lost.

I made someone mad yesterday. Wait, you've pissed off lots of people and not only survived but still likes herself, smiles, and all that jazz!

I feel anger and sadness and not a whole lot else these days. Wait, you were depressed too! I'm not postpartum and I don't think I'm so severe that I need a mental hospital (that option is probably a whole lot gentler in Utah than in NYC anyway). But I did just call to see about meeting with someone.

I feel like I'm hanging by a thread. Knowing that other people have gotten through helps. SO thanks.
Love,
Jan

Ups and Downs

I haven't blogged all week
can't even make this a haiku
I'm out of inspiration
blah de blah de blue

No enthusiasm,
every day the same
Little things are fine each day
but I'm in a bigger frame

Can't get the oomph to exercise
or stop stuffing my face...
though St Patrick's Day was worth the stuffing
cabbage and corned beef at the very best place!

I was on TV on Monday
Manhattan cable access
DuckyBoy was worried I'd become famous
but Tuesday he was so sweet about it

Asked me if I had a good time
His social skills were working fine
And today he got to stay at the playground
instead of running off to gymnastics
and he liked that very much.

I think we all have a bit of a cold
but I'm not allowed to have anything other than a crystal clear thinking and talking head
(says who? never mind that now)
Let's go visit Grandma tomorrow
and get out of the house.

I decided my home is not welcoming
and I don't know why that is
nor how to fix it.
I try to take care of the people who live here
and after all I live here too
but I don't think it's working for anyone.

I need to take better care of myself.
At library today we took down all the winter stuff
and put up spring.
Now if I can only do it for myself.

*Sigh.*

Eye-Opening

Our bedtime routine
is solid except for
DB's little "needs" --

Mommy-come-backer
(A pretend remote control
that comes in series);

Nightlight and music,
A few stuffed toys in bed too
(these change each night, natch);

Cold water of course,
sometimes even a cold pack
to keep him cooled off;

Socks, we cannot sleep
without socks on our small feet
and the one blanket

He can tolerate
over his sensitive skin.
After that he calms,

Until he wakes up...
middle of the night of course...
usually cold --

which wouldn't happen
if he slept under covers
like most of us do.

A reward chart helps
break the habit of coming
in with mom and dad.

But it's easily
disrupted and the pattern
starts over again.

I never realized
How much better I sleep when
he doesn't wake me.

****
This post is part of a "blog blast" by PBN for Sylvania's new nightlights; and for Haiku Friday as well.

Interpreting the World

Christina's post about her husband telling her how much younger she looked on a weekend away from the kids remind me of the way Husband says I am a different person the minute we get in the car after dropping DuckyBoy off at Grandma's for a night.

It's true. Though a weekly night out is restorative, it's not as deep as when I know I have more than a couple of hours off. When I not only don't have to deal with bedtime, but also no morning hassles either, I can relax and have a drink or two without feeling like I'm going to kick myself at 7 am the next day for feeling less than 100 percent. (Becuase it's usually like less than 60 percent. I'm almost never at 100 percent in the morning anyway.) And also that I'll be free to sleep until 9 or 10 and then kick myself at my leisure, without having to do so while driving 37 Matchbox cars through their car wash in a prescribed order.

Probably all moms feel like that, but I wonder if it may have something to do with having a child on the autism spectrum as well: As I commented on Christina's post, I realized that I spend much of my energy helping interpret the world to my son, and more interpreting him to the world.

Granted, I do less of the second part now that he's getting older. I'm simply not with him to be able to do so, which sometimes I'm sure is good and other times is a bit frustrating, and I wonder if I'm making much ado about nothing.

But just last week in the school cafeteria, a boy in another first-grade class who is friends with one of DB's classmates said to DB, "You know me..." and DB said simply, "No, I don't," and got up to walk away.

I was so caught off-guard I didn't have the presence of mind to make DB come back and practice saying something more socially acceptable. (Anyway, what does one teach a 6-year-old to say in this situation ???)

And frankly, I knew it was going to be fruitless for any of us to argue with him or try to convince him he does know this other guy, and I don't know if he does or not, so I let him go -- and explained to the boy that often, DB does not recognize people when they are in a different situation than the one in which he knows them. He gave me kind of a blank look, so I'm not sure if that made sense to him, but I hoped he understood I was trying to explain instead of make an excuse.

Now that I'm writing this up I'm not so sure. And I think I can feel another hair turning gray...

Bit of a Shocker

Ok, so trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I once dated a bank robber. Seriously. Both as in, I'm being serious and we dated in a serious manner.

Long random story why I even Googled the guy today (saw a blogger with the same last name and wondered if she was related, and then curiousity kicked in). But what I found was certainly not what I expected.

At least he was not a bank robber until 15 years or so after I knew him.

Tara, where are you????????