Stick A Fork In Me...

I'm DONE!

As I mention over there on the left, Urban Dad & I have opted to homeschool our munchkins. We don't know for how long -- I figure "until I'm in over my head." 'Cause let's face it. We can say we're homeschooling all we want. But the fact is that I'm the one here while U-Dad is at Great Big Urban High School for upwards of twelve hours a day, where he is loved and adored by all of his students. Seriously, his homeroom kids are gone already, because they are Seniors. They came back on Friday, his birthday, to give him a cake that said, "To The Greatest Man On Earth."






Seriously, what is that like? 'Cause me? I'm the b*tch that Urban Kid 1 puts up with until U-Dad comes back.






Ok, no, it's not that bad. I exaggerate. Well, most days anyway.






But we're in a weird phase right now where every.little.freakin'.thing is an argument. Honestly, if I suggest that the sky is blue, she'll argue about it. That the left shoe should go on the left foot? Fight. That we need to be somewhere by 10am and need to get gathered? It's, "I'm not going." Five going on thirteen. (What the hell am I supposed to do at thirteen?)






It's not like I'm doing a full day of school with her. I don't figure that we're "officially" homeschooling until September, when her peers all head off to Kindergarten and it's the U-Kids and me, still in our pajamas. So we do some stuff. All that stuff listed over there? We don't do it all each and every day.






But wow, lately doing a bit of math is like asking her to present a survey of the Jacobian Conjecture (yes, that's a real thing! no, i've no idea what it is!). And it ultimately ends with her exclaiming that what this math sheet really means is that she is the most unloved 5yo ever born. And when I took this kind of "Don't Bother Trying With Me, Lady, I'll Hate It All" attitude when teaching, at least I could send them away after an hour, and I got paid at the end of the day!






Do you remember how exciting it was with the new school year? All of your new outfits and pencils and folders and the Trapper Keeper? (What would I give to get a Trapper Keeper today?)



And how by the end of the year you couldn't get out of there fast enough?

Guess where Urban Kid 1 is right now? Guess where her mom is?

The stuff that we outsource is winding down, which helps. Art has wrapped up, except for one class. U-Kid 1, bless her dramatic little heart, has opted to give her last class to her little sister so that we can see if she might like to do Art too when we return in the Fall. Spanish has ended. Now I have to stalk get in touch with U-Kid 1's BFF for playdates, but that's ok. Soccer ends this week for the Spring session. We'll pick up the Summer session, but that's cool. It's outside, and Urban Dad can take her sometimes. And believe me, he will. Piano ends in a few more weeks.

We just might make it.

Despite my whining, I love what we've opted to do here. It's working out well -- U-Kid 1 can't go to Kindergarten; she's well past K-level work! And Urban Dad is supportive and helpful and throws himself straight into the fray as soon as he hits the door. Evenings and weekends, I can almost fade into the background and re-group while he takes them for walks and cleans and feeds and gives baths and does bedtimes (it's all total p*rn for women... and it works).

But right now, I'm done. D. U. N.

(btw, tomorrow is the free day at the chicago history museum. guess where the u-kids & i are heading?)

It's Time To Turn OFF THE TV

As you know, I'm currently plowing my way through all of the episodes of "24" that I've stacked up on the DVR since "Redemption" was on last November. And that my arms hurt.

And I have a confession to make:

Every time I see this guy... which is often during this particular stretch...

All I can think is that he looks like this guy.

So this brings me to a few conclusions:

1. These two were possibly separated at birth.

2. I am watching too much "24."

3. I am watching too much "Blues Clues."

4. I need to get back to that book that I was reading (Crichton's "State of Fear")

5. My brain hurts.

6. My arms hurt.

Remember when I presented Jack Bauer as May's Flavor of the Month?

And my plan to do arm exercises as I worked my way through Season 7 of 24?

I enhanced the plan a bit. I have to give props -- I got a lot of this idea from Blogs4Bauer.com. Here's how I'm playing now:

I must do either a tricep dip or a (shudder) push-up (gag!) each and every time Jack Bauer does any of the following:

Says, "Dammit!"

Says, "We Don't Have Time," "There Isn't Time," or something to that effect

Kills someone.

Says, "Drop the weapon," "Put down the gun," or something to that effect

(remember that scene in the prequel Redemption where he pleaded with the little boy to put down the gun...? i was begging Jack to shutup already!)

Apologizes for anything.

Says, "NOW!"

Uses or threatens to use "enhanced interrogation."

Any product placement (but only the first time we see it per episode; i'm only human here)

Can I just add that if he headbutts someone that I will voluntarily do five extra??

I'm about 7 or 8 hours into this endeavor. And can I just say, "C'mon Jack... lighten up. Can't we all just get along? You're killin' me here!"

Do They Still Make Sun-In?

Oh Good Lord, have I been a lazy blogger! I can only do a fraction of the justice that the various this-and-that's actually deserve, but we'll just do a Cliff Notes of what's important.

Namely: I will not be as blonde as I should be this summer. And that's ok. I can white-knuckle it. (For now.) You see, I had a hair appointment on Saturday morning with Lee the Hair Whisperer. As such, I was hunting down videos for Urban Kid 1 that don't make my skull split for one reason or another (another post). And reminding Urban Dad over and over and over again that I would take U-Kid 1 off his hands for the morning, but he was on the hook with U-Kid 2.

Backstory time: Lee the Hair Whisperer has been preggers of late. This was quite a surprise to her since 1.) she's 46 and 2.) she wasn't actively trying to get preggers. In fact, when she missed a period, she thought she was starting menopause. The baby's father immediately started e-mailing her links to abortion clinics. When she made it clear that she was thrilled to have and raise this baby, with or without him, he became The Invisible Man. So she's been on her own. Not only has she handled this well, she's straight-up embraced the entire challenge. I'm in awe of this woman.

Knowing her due date, I made an appointment for a month before. And another for soon after her return. Starting on Wednesday, I was counting the hours until I could joyfully sit in her chair, drop some earphones onto U-K 1 and gossip heartily while Lee worked her magic.

But on Wednesday night, Lee went into sudden labor, as in massively hemorraging. Thirty minutes later, she was in emergency surgery, delivering a beautiful baby girl appropriately named Grace. They both nearly returned to their Creator as a package deal, but are doing much, much better now. Little Grace came in at 6 lbs, 2 oz and is doing a little time in an incubator to make sure that her lungs are good and ready for The Big World. If she's anything like her mom, she'll be good at working the chat, so let's get those lungs up for what's coming!

But yeah, Lee was a little tied up on Saturday a.m.

It's hair, people. Although I occasionally toy with the idea of renaming this blog Urbane Mom, I'll never be that bad.

BTW, meet Grace:

Gorgeous hair, of course.

London Calling

A postcard arrived in Urban Dad's mailbox at Great Big Urban High School yesterday with a picture very similar to this on the front:

The following was written on the back:

Hello! From London! Your favorite English student is exploring the world. I'm working in London as a tour guide. It's fun and I love it! I travel a lot in between. It's amazing meeting so many people from all over the world. I'm booking an around the world ticket in Sept. and moving to Australia! Thanks for telling us to get out there and see the world! Best advice ever!

(little drawn heart) Beata

YouDaMan, Urban Dad! YouDaMan!!

Breaking the News to Urban Kid 1

Two nights ago, it was beautiful in Chicago. Urban Kid 1 was comfortable running around in capris and a tank top, steadfastly refusing her mother's offers to grab her a jacket. Urban Dad finally already!! got home waaaaay late from another long day at Great Big Urban High School. We piled the U-Kids into the CR-V and headed to Evanston to Gigio's, a nothing little pizza joint that U-Dad has strangely liked for twenty-odd years.

U-Dad & U-Kid 1 began negotiating for chocolate ice cream with sprinkles, because on a beautiful night in Chicago -- especially one of the first ones that comes paired with long hours of evening light -- bedtimes becomes more of a philosophical idea than a concrete reality.

Well, for U-Kid 2, it was a concrete reality. We parked near the apartment, off-loaded the off-spring and headed towards the door. Except that U-Kid 1 had nailed down a deal of some sort for chocolate ice cream with sprinkles. (u-dad needs nary a Push before he falls right Over, in my humble opinion) So I took U-Kid 2 in for her Evening Toilette and left U-Dad with this instruction:

I'm The Bad Guy all day long. You get to tell her about R moving to Colorado this summer.

He willingly obliged, God love 'im.

Seems that they sauntered down the block -- well, he sauntered, U-Kid 1 hitched a ride on his shoulders. And as they motored down the sidewalk, he told her the news. And we learned that U-Kid 1 not only has a heart -- a sweet, giving, wonderful heart --but that it can be broken.

Her first reply was, "my first two best friends have moved away!"

(reminder: young M left for Vegas about a year and a half ago. U-K 1 still talks about her.)

So they got the ice cream at our regular spot and sat at a table outside. U-K 1 wasn't interested in staking out her own chair or initiating conversations with passers-by (puh-leeze don't let anyone tell you this Chatty Cathy homeschooled kid isn't socialized) or working U-Dad for another fun stop along the way home. She just sat in his lap and let him hold her.

Since then, she's been out of sorts. She just seems sad. I try to pull her out and ask her what's on her mind, but she practices for adolescence by saying just says, "nothing" or "I don't know." She's just not her bright-eyed, upbeat self. Occasionally, she'll ask why R is moving. I tell her that R's mom and dad made a decision to head out there. I'm trying to make it clear that this move is not any kind of comment on R or U-K 1 or their friendship. And when she asks why R's mom and dad want to go to Colorado, I'm not sure what to say. It's pretty in the mountains, and they can afford to buy an actual house with an actual yard and live on one salary so that when R's dad is furloughed from United, he can stay home with the kids for a few years because R has some sort of epilepsy and they want one parent to be home and not travelling for work? Seems a bit heavy to lay on a 5yo, huh?

Our hope is to keep her busy this summer. We'll skip town for a stretch. And then try to keep putting her in front of friends who are actually physcially here.

In the meantime, lots of hugs (she's become a touch clingy the last few days), an extra chapter or two of the bedtime book, me trying to keep my patience a little longer, etc. And tracking down R for playdates.

I'm open to suggestions for anything else, too!

Adventures in Potty Training

So we've been trying to get Urban Kid 2 trained. And "Green Eggs & Ham" has become a favorite read while having a sit-down in "the powder room." Of course, nothing happens until ten minutes after we finally wrap it up and move on with the day. But my point is this:

As I read GEH to U-Kid 2, this is the voice that I hear in my head. (u-dad suggests that this alone is reason enough to never again pick up the book) See if you can tell who it is.

(for you young'uns out there, this is from way back when snl was funny)



And as long as we're exploring the weird voices in my head as I cheerily read GEH for the twelve-hundredth time while waiting bored out of my mind patiently for a 2yo to do something on the potty, I can't help but be reminded of this old e-mail that was going around a while back:

Children's Books That Never Quite Made It:

The Boy Who Died From Eating All His Vegetables
Curious George and the High-Voltage Fence
Daddy Drinks Because You Cry
Dad's New Wife Robert
Eggs, Toilet Paper, and Your School
Fun Four-letter Words to Know and Share
The Kids' Guide to Hitchhiking
The Little Sissy Who Snitched
The Magic World Inside the Abandoned Refrigerator
The Man in the Moon Is Actually Satan
Places Where Mommy and Daddy Hide Neat Things
The Pop-Up Book of Human Anatomy
Some Kittens Can Fly
Strangers Have the Best Candy
Things Rich Kids Have, But You Never Will
Whining, Kicking, and Crying to Get Your Way
Why Can't Mr. Fork and Ms. Electrical Outlet Be Friends?
You Were an Accident
Your Nightmares Are Real
You're Different, and That's Bad

This is why it's good that kids can't hear their parents' thoughts, huh?

And yeah, it's gonna be good for everyone if U-Kid 2 gets the hang of the process pretty soon.....