Checking My Connectivity

What would motherhood be without a little therapy, right? Jeremy and Natalia dropped me off at my counselor's appointment today and Natalia asked me what was up. I told her that it was where I go to talk out some stuff about my childhood and she was totally psyched and wanted to come too. Well, at least she is supportive. I jokingly told her that maybe someday she will go and talk it out about my mothering skills to some random licensed stranger. Her answer to that statement will differ depending on the gravitational pull of the moon, the serotonin re-uptake levels, the color of her socks and the ratio of length of elapsed time since last snack vs sugar content. This is the key to whether I am the Evil Queen, or the Best Mom Ever. I'm practically like Einstein since I figured out this equation and deserve the tween equivalent of the Nobel Peace Prize.

I did do quite a bit of soul searching regarding how I stay connected to Natalia, and how I plan to keep that up. Most of my sane living has been self taught by watching a living "How Not To Do Things" tutorial. It's a good thing I pay attention and I'm a relatively quick learner. Take Jeremy, for example: He's the longest standing friendship I've ever had and I've put a lot of work into this one. It's been 99% fun and I love it. He's cute, smart, I'm totally into him and I can do this some more. I have a hard time wrapping my mind around parents who CHOSE to no longer work at having a relationship with their children. I mean, I can kind of get choosing to ignore your spouse, but your baby (they are always our babies)? I know, I know. I've already blogged about that one too, so I'll leave it at that. Let's all roll our eyes at those ridiculous dead beat parents and hold up our hands in the "W" for the "whatever" sign. Whatever.

Now, for y'all with young school age girls, I'm going to do something truly horrible. Remember the Barbie movie "Barbie & The Diamond Castle"? "I feel connected, protected. It's like you're standing right by me all the time. Nothing can break this, nothing can break this, nothing can break this tie. Connected." Okay. That was just me being mean because I've had that song stuck in my head and I just had to pass it on. Annoyingly catchy, isn't it? I didn't even have a point. I just think it's funny.

This week is Natalia's birthday (yes, Lacow girls get an entire week) and she had a day off of school so we took the opportunity to actually plan something besides homework coffee shop night. Jeremy and I even weaseled a date night out of his parents this week. Sweet. For me, nothing says "family connection" like a little competition. That's right. We started off with some putt putt where I learned that if Natalia would just take her time, she's actually pretty good even though she swings her club like a Louisville slugger and cheats like there's no tomorrow. Par two my hiney. Then there was the laser tag where team Lacow was up against team Martinez. Granted, they did have the cutest team member in her three year old formal dress AND she shot me twice! Aside from that, Natalia had my flank and she and I racked up some serious points nailing the home base all Evil Queen/Princess Natalia style.                     

Sure there is still the arguing over toenail length, but then there are plenty of times when she and I are in our mommy daughter zone that even Jeremy doesn't get. Things like clear coat nail polish doused with craft glitter and makeovers where she looks gorgeous and I look "perfect" to her, but the mirror says I have a melanoma mark on my forehead painted on by mascara. Seriously, the exclamation from Natalia when she was done was "AH! Perfect! Mommy you look so good, just like the Bratz dolls from the movie I watched. Look, look!" I was expecting all those Sephora sample trips to have finally payed off and to see some mad skillz. Well, there was this melanoma thing, glitter, and the blue eye shadow...... we'll make more trips to Sephora because practice makes perfect and Sephora makes me happy.

I can't imagine ever not wanting to sit on the floor while painting nails and playing with makeup. I love laying in her bed with her while I go through our bedtime routine. I've found it's the best way to catch up on what is rolling around in that complexly beautiful brain of hers. It's a bit more streamlined when Jeremy puts her to bed, but how it's supposed to go down is we are supposed to 1) Read a book, 2) Sing a song 3) Lights out and I leave. Well, 1 and 2 go smoothly, but then we get to talking and giggling and then I sometimes fall asleep because she is so stinkin' snuggilicious and smells like my baby. I don't remember my mom ever doing anything like that with me so I'm way ahead of the therapy curve I'm sure. Then again, there are always things like my "child labor sticks of despair", making her and her sleepover friend clean up before bedtime (gasp!), and all those arguments over toenails. Maybe I'm still in the running for "my mom ruined my life" therapy after all depending on the above mentioned equation. Quick! Check her socks!

Eight is Enough

Next week Natalia turns eight. Her birthday is always a big deal to me, not just because I am so happy that she was gifted into my life, but also it reminds me how quickly time flies. I've blogged it many times: The older I get, the faster time flies. Especially now since my life has started being fun and full of good stuff.

I will confess this: Eight is not my favorite age for children as a general rule, but Natalia is the best eight year old ever. I used to avoid babysitting eight year olds at all costs when I was in college and just stick with the babies to five year olds. What I mean is it's just an age of roller coaster emotions, terrible two's without the cute baby body, and they generally are more into their friends now because their friends know EVERYTHING! Never mind that I have 35 years of experience and a bachelors degree under my belt. I'm just mom after all. Did I know about the Green Grannysmith spider who could take out six kids in one spray? Did I know that google was a number? Did I know that clothing does not have to match? No. I am obviously lame.

It has kind of blown me away how head strong Natalia is lately and how snotty she talks. It's her version of what a teenager sounds like. It's just weird to hear this kind of noise coming out of such a small body. It reminds me of a voice over on TV and I am mesmerized, then realize I am supposed to do something about it. Yes, I already whined about this and talked about the child labor sticks of despair, but it's my blog and therefore my sounding board. By the way, the labor sticks totally work because nothing will change a child's tune faster than having to take five minutes out of riding her scooter with her girlfriend because she has to pick up poop in the back yard. She isn't cured by all means, but at least I get five minutes free from snotty arguing back talking and I didn't have to clean up poop. Boo-yaah! Mom:1, child: google.

I don't think it would bother me so much if I didn't have my own inner turmoil that I'm working on right now, so knowing this, I mentioned it to Natalia in a very seven-going-on-eight kind of way after she told me I was mean. Now, I didn't do anything Evil Queen specific at that moment, and she couldn't name anything in particular, but she said I have been mean lately. I get it. Like I said, I have some stuff going on, so my fuse has been short and I have felt less connected to everyone lately. That's the only reason I had a little heart to heart with her. Wouldn't you know it that the little smarty pants tried to play the "mean" card against me the next day when she didn't get her way about wearing "high heeled" shoes to school. That I saw right through. She's so smart. If I wasn't so mentally fried, I'd be kind of proud and laughing at the moment. It just takes me a couple days and moments of silence to process how hilarious all that is.

One thing that helps is my own girlfriends. In the past whenever I have had my garbage creep to the surface I have isolated myself. Obviously that has never worked, so this time I have rallied a few close girlfriends around me. Way better. Part of the idea to do this comes from how much I have needed other moms to get me through motherhood and tell me my child is normal and that I am a good mom. Yes, I know on a basic level I am a good mom. I mean, she isn't setting library books on fire and Googling how to make pipe bombs out of Barbies. But, what I am talking about is raising the kind of girl that people will go to for advice about their own crazy daughters. The kind of woman who other women will want to ask out for girls night and laser tag. The kind of girl who someone can pull aside on Easter night who will listen to her friend empty her heart and say "I knew all along". That's the kind of girl I want to raise.

Kara helps me see the bright side too by saying things like "Oh, she runs on her toes, she'll be a great sprinter." and "Yeah, she's head strong, argumentative, and slightly manipulative, but those will be great qualities when she learns to use them appropriately as an adult". Of course those are gratuitous use of quotes, but I'm not exactly a literary genius here. 

I can see Natalia having a bright future in law or politics. Please sweet baby Jesus in a manger surrounded by livestock let her use those forces for good and no longer against her mother. I actually told a co-worker yesterday that I have an eight year old daughter at home and I just could not argue with her anymore. Yeah, she was totally offended and huffed off. Seriously folks. It's about survival and I have to save my energy for my daughter. I can't waste it on other nurses. Besides, she obviously does not have the stamina Natalia does because Natalia never would have let that conversation end there. Weak sauce.