My Own Private Icestorm

Greetings from the glacier known as Gardner, Kansas. We got hit yesterday (and last night) with a horrible ice and winter storm. We knew it was coming, and it was all the buzz yesterday at the office and on the radio. All non-essential Federal employees were released early yesterday (at 2:30), and of course, in my infinite due to my lack of genius, I stayed until about 3:15 "just to get this one report finished." Of course, with the weather and the s-l-o-w drivers, I didn't make it home until 4:30! Just as we (and the mass local media) predicted, the city got hit quite hard with a frozen-icy-rain mix, and we awoke to a beautiful (but treacherous) ice-coated city. Although the ENTIRE (note emphasis) city is closed down, the Kansas City Federal Executive Board only thought the storm warranted us two extra hours of leave this morning. You know, because that extra two hours sure makes alllllllll the difference when streets are impossibly slick and walkways are deathtraps in the making. Anyway, I chose (quite smartly, I might add) to take a day of annual leave and to keep myself and our toddler home. Because Curt's office is so close to our home, he felt compelled to go ahead and make the trek in (which he did safely, thank goodness). From all accounts, the weather's going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better. While ice storms leave beautiful path in their wake (I'm referring to the glistening trees and earth and not the destruction of branches, car accidents, and downed power lines), I hate that I am cooped up inside the house. Ever notice that when you're cooped up, you've got about 10,000 things that you need to get/places you want to go/etc./etc.? Oh well. We're home and safe and soon, Curt will be too. I suppose anything else is just stupid and completely unimportant banter.

The last few weeks have been a challenge for me. I thought when I put this blog together that I'd try to keep as much of the intimate details of my life out of the public eye. And while I'll probably continue on with that notion, I'm in need of assistance and support and, what the hell, why not post here about what's going on and get your feedback and support? My beautiful toddler is now three. And you know that old adage about "the terrible twos"? Forget it. Two's nothing. Three's hell. I think that's because she's finding her own way and her own voice so much more. And while those are incredible and wonderful things (and a joy to watch from a parenting perspective), they're difficult for her because she's not fully cognizant of how the world works (i.e., life isn't all about you...and other people's wants and needs sometimes supercede yours). Everything to her is a major event. Let me rephrase. Every time you tell her "no," it is a major event. She's just not able to understand that life means not always getting your way, and instead of handling her disappointments like you and I do, she screams bloody murder, throws a huge tantrum, takes off her glasses and throws them (which is a HUGE hot-button of mine and she knows it), and throws herself on the ground and SCREAMS at us to pick her up. I'm trying to learn how to be a better parent...one more understanding of this little phase of her development and her life, and, too, how best to broach her behavior. My newest tactic is to ignore the tantrums, but to simply deprive her of the things she loves the most (i.e., her "SpongeBob Squarepants" and "VeggieTales" DVDs). In all of this, I'm internalizing and worrying and fretting much, much more than I should. My frustrations don't make me a bad mother, and I need to tell myself that. Typing this out is helpful - it's helping me to see all of this in a more objective light. But dammit, it sure is frustrating when nothing you do (or so you feel, anyway) is right. I worry that how I deal (or don't deal) with her behavior now will impact the individual she becomes. That's a huge, huge responsibility. Am I doing it correctly? I don't know. And with that lack of certainty comes a lack of confidence in who I am as a mother. Which makes me feel horrible in ways that I can't even explain. So that's it - my own private icestorm. I'm posting this in an effort to get other moms-of-tots (or former moms-of-tots) to send me commentary and advice. I know I'm by far not the first mother of a toddler...and nor will I be the last (by a longshot). But sometimes, that's just not enough.

This week's just been bumpy, I guess...and I imagine that's contributing to my fun-filled, enthusiastic posts here in BlogVille(tm). We had a significant amount of rain overnight Sunday, and Monday, our poor sump pump just conked out. This isn't a new phenomenon in our home. We actually had our basement flood in September of 2003 when the sump pump died. FLOOD. As in, standing water. How the PC (still plugged in and sitting on the floor) didn't electrocute us, we'll never know. Anyway, we decided back then to go ahead and purchase a back-up sump pump, and it's a good damned thing that we did. The main one went out sometime in the Sunday-night-Monday-morning timeframe, but Curt checked early Monday and we were able to avert another flood. We both took the day off and spent the better part of the morning shop-vac'cing (betcha didn't know that was a verb, didja?) water out of the well in the ground and dumping it into our poor garden hottub. Thanks to our friends at the Olathe Home Depot, we have a brand new sump pump. (Before I continue, I need to share a valuable lesson with you. In between shop-vac-n-dump sessions, we found a sump pump at the Home Depot website that we wanted to buy and get installed immediately. I called the Olathe store, and they had one in stock. Imagine my surprise when the cost for the sump pump was $165. The website had that exact model listed for $198! When I asked the cashier if the item was on sale (and explained having seen it online for a higher cost), she said that it's common for their goods to be more pricey online than in the store. Lesson learned - don't buy online until you've checked the local store!) Anyway, back to the story at hand. Monday night was our first neighborhood bunko night of the year (a group of 12 of us play on the first Monday of the month). It was fun. VERY fun. And a great diversion from my continual state-of-late of frustration and disappointment. Our neighbors are nice people, and I've really enjoyed getting to know them all. We also had holiday parties and dinners. They're just nice people. Interesting and nice.

On an even happier note, last night we watched Matt Lauer's interview with Amber Frey on NBC. I guess I always knew that Scott Peterson was a sick, twisted animal, but somehow hearing the story Amber told just more clearly illustrated that to me. Laci and her beautiful baby boy aside for a second, my heart breaks for Amber. She's a brave, strong woman. And she's damned lucky that Scott didn't harm her or her little girl (which Curt is certain Scott was planning to do...scary). It's just a sad story altogether. I don't understand people sometimes. Where is it in the breakdown of the human conscience that leads one to think that murder, deception, and utter and pure selfishness are acceptable means of behavior? I just do NOT understand it. Look at the guy. He's a smug, arrogant asshole...and he was damned certain that he was going to get away with what he had done. And for what? A life of freedom? A life independent of responsibility and commitment? I guess I just don't understand why it's becoming more and more acceptable in our society to say "fuck it" when it comes to the lives and spirits of other people if in so doing, you're self-promoting and finding whatever-in-the-hell-it-is-that-you-want. Maybe my problem is that I assume people think like I do. And in that case (my coming to an unexpected change of heart and wanting a life free of commitment), I would approach my partner and, with as much tenderness, honesty, and clarity as possible, confide the truth and make my separation in the most kind and caring way possible. How anyone could do that in any other way just boggles my mind. I realize that a significant part of how I view the world is soaked with naivete. I was taught to be respectful of and loving toward others, and when I see people who so clearly violate the lives and rights and hearts of others, I just do not understand it. And, you know, that's probably for the best. To understand it likely would mean that I condoned it as well, which I most definitely do not.

Well, I'm a little closer to finishing the afghan I wanted to give to our friends for Christmas! I will be in Indianapolis in February for a sorority conference, and hope to have it done by then so I can give it to them ("Happy Belated Christmas!") In the meantime, I'm hoping to join Yarn Tomato's 63 Square Stitch-Along. I met a new friend on ISCABBS this morning who has kindly volunteered to share her pattern booklet with me, so I'll soon be off to the land of square-stitching. I shared with my new friend my concerns regarding my lack of ability to use the thicker, more intricate yarns. She understood, and (I gathered) experienced that herself as well when she was new to crochet. OK, so maybe I will "get it" with more experience. We'll see.

Our little Boston Terrier is just precious. We love little Maggy dearly. As I type this post to you, my precious little girly is asleep at my feet. She had her first checkup last weekend with Dr. Vodraska at the Gardner Animal Hospital and she did very, very well. We learned a lot from Dr. Vodraska. Apparently with small, round-headed breeds, there's a greater-than-likely chance that their little skulls don't ever come to completely encapsulate their brains. She said that's normal with Bostons, but that as the breed becomes more popular (and, thus, more mass-bred), this will worsen. Luckily, Maggy's little noggin is well protected, with just a teeny little spot of her brain uncovered. Thank God. We were just blown away by the staff at the Gardner Animal Hospital. They were very, very kind and patient (I had a list of about 20 questions!!) and caring. And Maggy was quite the hit with them. Our cute little 3.1 pound Boston!!! I know, I know...I need to get photos up! I did take some last night and the night prior...mostly of her asleep with Curtis. As soon as I can figure out how to upload them, I will. I promise!

That's all for now. Thanks for letting me vent this all out. If you actually stuck through this and read all of this, may warm, home-made chocolate chip cookies fall from the sky directly to you!

Jen