Tag Archives: moms

Making Mount Everest Out of a Molehill …

2 Mar

 Movie night was supposed to be simple. But nothing in The Guat life is simple and nothing turns out the way you thought it would … well sometimes parking spots.

Mount everest

Image via Wikipedia

The Lorax was supposed to be a stress free-outing, with popcorn — a celebration of what I call my son’s preschool graduation. I know it wasn’t his graduation, more like his termination because of the raise in tuition and his teacher going on maternity leave. But graduation sounds better.

So in celebratory fashion I wanted to secure our entrance to this Dr. Seuss extravaganza and get tickets ahead of time, not wasting any time standing in line, or risking the show being sold out.

But buying movie tickets online is tricky. You need to be sure that you’ll be going at a designated time. I thought I was going on time. I thought I had picked a time suitable for everyone’s nap schedule and snack schedule, including my own. I had lined up a two babysitters: 1) A friend of the family who offered to do it seeing how I constantly watched her kids when they were younger, and 2) my mother, who found out the friend of the family was watching the baby and got all possessive over her grandkid and decided to assist. But even with that time was not on my side.

I called our first babysitter three times reminding her of when we’d be arriving. The plan was to hang out for about fifteen minutes to make sure the baby was all right, and then go to the movies. We had never left her with anybody other than my mom or aunt, so even though this was a friend of the family, we were still pretty worried and filled with a little anxiety. But it would only be for two hours. So we thought we’d get the baby settled, she’d be fine.

My other half was supposed to meet me at home so we could drop off the baby, then pick up my son from school, take our time saying our final good-byes to his preschool buddies, take a few pictures and be on our way.

No. Not even close.

Movie started at 5:20 p.m. We were supposed to drop off the baby around 4:30 p.m. I’m waiting for my dude to show up, as he suggested I wait for him because he was getting off work early and wanted me to buy the 5:20 p.m. tickets, instead of the 6:30 p.m. tickets. He insisted. Said everything would be fine.

4:00 … No dude. Phone call, no answer.

4:15 … No dude. Phone call, no answer.

4:30 … No dude. Phone call, answer. I’m waiting for you, I haven’t picked up our son from school. His response: what are you waiting for, you should have picked him up a while ago. I hang up.

4:40 … Drive like Speedracer and arrive to pick up my son. Didn’t bring the camera to take pictures. Didn’t think to bring an extra shirt to replace the mud stains and paint. Didn’t have enough time for proper good-byes … had to make time for potty …glad I brought the cards and thank you gifts for teachers the day before.

5:00 … Arrive at the babysitter’s. No dude. No babysitter.

5:01 … Call babysitter and found out she’s at karate class with her sons. Could I wait 15 to 20 minutes?

5:02 … Exasperated.

5:10 … Dude shows up.

5:15 … Babysitter shows up. I give her the rundown of the baby’s schedule, give her the bag of toys, and leave the diaper bag on the couch. We hang out for about five minutes, baby seems o.k.

5:20 … She mentions she needs the base to our car seat because she’s going to pick up her sons from karate.

I’m sorry what?

I thought babysitting meant sitting in your house (or mine) and watching the baby. Not carpooling or traveling. I was not o.k. with this, in fact this seemed to stress me out considering this was the first time she was babysitting for us. My dude and I hesitated. One of us was on the verge of not making it. But she assured us everything would be fine … we were sure it wouldn’t be. We knew she’d start crying and it freaked me out. She pushed us out the door assuring us the baby would all right.

I was worried and freaked out. I was a neurotic parent. I was frustrated that the situation I tried so hard to avoid came to pass: felt rushed everywhere, dumped off my kid with no hey-get-used-to-this-lady-and-her-house-because-you’ll-be-here-for-a-while time, late to the movies, and probably wouldn’t find parking or seats in the theatre.

5:30 … Arrive at the movies, get tickets from kiosk, go up the escalators, ticket chick takes our tickets … get a text from the babysitter: We think you took the diaper bag by mistake, couldn’t find it … no worries we bought diapers. 🙂

5:31 … Taking deep breaths

5:33 … Dude assures me that he didn’t take the diaper bag. I know I didn’t take it, but he still assures me it was him … apparently it did an Andy Dufresne from Shawshank and “vanished like a fart in the wind.”

5:35 … Enter the theatre. No seats in the back or middle. Still taking deep breaths. Sitting in the second row center. IMAX indeed.

Movie starts.

I felt like I added a couple of gray hairs on that trip. At first I couldn’t concentrate, I was so stressed out and worried about the baby. She must be losing it, I thought. My gut ached. I felt bad because I couldn’t fully enjoy the movie experience with my son because I was worrying about my other kid.

And then my son turned to look at me as he ate his butter-flavored popcorn and chocolate covered raisins. He smiled and said … Here he comes mom, The Lorax!

So in that instant I decided to commit to the moment. The baby would be fine. If I didn’t trust the babysitter I wouldn’t have bothered to ask for the favor in the first place. Besides, my mother would probably show up in forty minutes, so I’d have two babysitters working to entertain my kid. I needed to calm down. She’d be fine. I realized this was not a Mount Everest problem, this was a hill. I’m glad I came to my senses in the middle of the movie.

I’m glad I wasn’t climbing Mount Everest anymore, otherwise I would have rushed out of the theatre as soon as I saw “THE END.”

I would have missed my son jumping up out of his seat and yelling: “Come on let’s dance! Let’s dance everyone!”

As the credits rolled and the Lorax’s humming fish began singing and dancing, there I was … dancing and doing spin moves with my son … second row … center aisle.

The Lorax (film)

The Lorax to the Rescue

1 Mar

As a parent I’ve come to understand that I will fail from time to time. Doesn’t matter that I have a Bachelors or Masters degree I will fail in some way, shape, or form. I feel wretched. But it happens, that’s why Lambic Framboise was invented. But it’s only temporary … just until he turns four … and well … the teenage years.

Friday will be my son’s last day at preschool. I’ve had to pull him out for a couple of reasons. His teacher is going on maternity leave and may not even come back. It took him a long time to successfully transition into her classroom. It was a week and a half of watery eyes, tight hugs, and long good-byes … and this was just me. Seeing my kid break down because he thinks I’m shafting him has that effect.

The school added a new teacher, which meant a new environment, new rules, new scene. It would only be temporary because he would be moved again to the “big kids” room in a couple of months once he turned four. Then the teary-eyed good-bye cycle would return. I  think I’d have to buy a case of Lambic Framboise to get me through these phases, and I really didn’t want to turn into a raging alcoholic at 10 a.m.. So I thought might as well just do the good-bye cycle once and put him in a classroom when he turns four, which is in a couple of months.

Then there’s the move. Since I’ve been a guest at my parents’ house, the trek to his preschool has gotten a little longer, and gas prices are a little higher. I see about twenty preschools on our way to my son’s preschool. I figured once we were settled and moved into our new place, wherever that would be, I would find a quality school … you know, one with no pedafiles or perverts within a ten-mile radius.

But the primary reason: pisto. They’ve raised the tuition and I got no more pisto. Cash. I don’t know how much preschool is in other cities or states, but here in The Guat’s neighborhood the least expensive was $825 per month. I did a lot of research and looked into different places. Places that gave me a good vibe and the highest $1200 the lowest $825. And now it would be $875. I should have been a preschool mogul, instead of a writer. Maybe we’d be in our place by now.

Well with the raise in price and my income not being very incoming, I’ve had to pull the plug and finesse the situation. I felt like a terrible parent. Total downer. I prepared him for two weeks, letting him know when his last day would be, how school was ending, and how he’d be taking a little vacation with mom and then he would return to his new school. The “big boy” school. This did not go over very well.  So I had to be a little more tactful in this delicate situation … a little more politician.

I told him he was graduating.

I told him we had to celebrate his graduation. He did a great job in school and learned a lot of new things. Now he was graduating and we would celebrate. That’s what you do when you get bigger and succeed in school. You graduate. You celebrate with goodies, such as cake.

That seemed a little better, but not yet. He didn’t quite believe me.

Then I said we will have our weekly movie night at the movies. (Thanks to Netflix, we see a movie every week. We cozy up on the couch with Orville Redenbacher and watch Disney, Pixar, Dreamworks, Muppets, Nickelodeon or Charlie Brown like films.) I told him we’d make a special field trip to see The Lorax. We will see the Lorax as your graduation present.

The Lorax

Image via Wikipedia

“The Lorax is not a movie mom. It’s a book, see?”

He shows me his worn-out hardcover version of Dr. Seuss‘s The Lorax. We must’ve have read that book at least six hundred times these past two years.

“They made a movie. See?”  A commercial for The Lorax plays on the computer. Then as I close the screen, another commercial appears on the television.

“The Lorax! They made The Lorax Movie for my graduation?”

Yes … yes they did.

He smiled. Lorax to the rescue.