Feeling Random

Work is exhausting right now. I’m on information overload and my brain is leaking out of my ears. And we have weeks more to go. On this sub-phase. We have a year plus to go on Phase 1. Yay.

Zed had his first football scrimmage yesterday. I left work early to watch because I’m going to Alabama next week and will miss his very first real game. SOB! The scrimmage wasn’t what I thought. A team and B team lining up on opposite sides of the field and driving to the opposite goal lines. Zed plays O-line and D-line on the B team. When he plays O-line he’s the snapper. He was pretty good. But he needs to learn to hit and block harder. I can’t believe I just said that.

Nick surprised me yesterday. He gave me a flyer for this. I about wet my pants. Peter Mayhew and David Prowse and Kenny Baker all in the same place? That’s really about as big as you can get without Mark Hamill. Carrie Fisher is an extremely rare sighting and Harrison Ford wouldn’t be caught dead at a Con. AND, it’s near my house. Whee!

Put it back! Put it all back!

Oh this is horrible. Terrible. No good. Very bad. You had me. I was your whore. We . were close. Bonded. But now…

I know I’ve been neglectful lately. Hadn’t come to see you as often as I should. Perhaps you thought I’d strayed. Nay. You’d think absence makes the heart grow fonder. Not this time.

Why are you changing? Rearranging? Becoming Amazing? Hardly. Maybe a-maze-ing. I was happy with you the way you were. But now? Your shelves are strangely foreign. My shortcut to the condiment section? Cut off. I used to be able to zip through, grabbing items off shelves without even looking. Now I’m afraid. Your aisles are half-barren. Rearranged. Your signs have changed. It’s all so strange and confusing to my simple mind.

Tonight, I felt all swoony as I stood, staring at my bascart, confused as to which way to turn. What was I looking for now? My internal compass went all wonky. What was this strange place? Where were the familiar comforts? Maybe it was all just a bad dream. But I fear that this change is here to stay. If I had my say…

Please, Kroger. Put it back. Put it all back. End this renovation madness!

It’s a Birthday Monkey

Nine years ago today I welcomed my sweet baby girl into this world. She came into this world a tiny, pink, hungry, hairless thing. She was tiny compared to her brother. A full 2 lbs. 6 oz smaller. I was scared to hold her because she was so little. Her fingers were long. Her lips were red.

Today she is a ball of raw energy. You could power a city off of her. Equally, I have never seen another human being fall asleep so fast. She’ll fall asleep in the middle of a conversation in the car. A nap from school to home will refresh her for a bit. Her reading and writing are improving dramatically. She’s funny. She’s loving. She’s considerate. She’s a beauty. Her sunny outlook makes me smile no matter what. She still loves simply. She’s an athlete. She loves to run. Game followed by practice? No problem.

My baby is budding into a young girl. It will be too soon before she’s no longer a girl. I tell her I’d keep her little forever if I could.

Nick immediately nicknamed the kids when he came into our house. Elle is ever-affectionately known as Monkey. Anything we see with a monkey on it gets added to her collection. Monkey pajamas, shirts, backpacks, puppets, stuffed monkeys…you name it. And the name describes her exactly. Energetic, climbing, silly, loud.

Happy Birthday My Little Monkey Love!

 

Overheard in the makeup aisle

I was doing some shopping at Target this evening. I needed a creme-to-powder foundation because a) my liquid foundation is a little too dark, and b) I’m flying to Cincinnati this week, and my liquids bag space limit is, well, limited. Sadly, my usual brand was out of the color I needed, so I was taking my sweet time, exploring the other brands and colors.

As I was gagging over the Boots No 7 foundation price, I hear a very loud, very obnoxious, very angry voice from the end of the aisle. A guy and a girl had a cart near the end cap, and he was yelling at her, telling her to hurry the f*ck up, telling her she was ‘stupidly’ staring at products and couldn’t make up her f*cking mind. At first I didn’t look up, but as the insults continued, I couldn’t help but turn to look at him and stare his angry ass down.

She didn’t see me looking, but I caught his eye and raised my eyebrows at him. He looked away and moved the cart to another aisle. Where he continued to bereate her. She asked him several times to leave her alone, to stop yelling, and to let her finish. But he didn’t. They moved again to another end of the cosmetics section, further away, and he was still going at her.

So, I turned my cart, approached them. “Are you all right?” I asked. She looked at me and didn’t say anything. Then he said “Yeah she’s all right. She’s my sister.”. Then she said to him to cut it out and stop being so loud. I still continued to stand there as he walked back toward her again. Then she looked at me and said “Yes, I’m OK.” And then they walked off.

I usually don’t stick my nose in other people’s arguements, but this went on, and it was loud, and it was very apparent that he was very angry. I thought maybe if I brought it to his attention that he was being obnoxious, he would quiet down. But then I thought, well, what if approaching him made it worse for her. I was 100% prepared to find a Target employee or security guard. I mean this guy was picking stuff up from the basket, leaning over into the girls face, and then slamming the stuff back down. This wasn’t just someone frustrated. This was someone that gets ugly. A little later, I was on the Eye Care aisle, and I saw the girl walk by again, with a case of soda on her shoulder. She smiled at me, although rather weakly.

My step-dad was a yeller. And so was my Ex, when he was drunk. I don’t like people that yell. It scares me and it brings up those feelings of smallness and helplessness that I used to feel in those situations. And to me, if someone is willing to exhibit that behavior in public, they’ll go even further in private. Whether he was this girl’s brother or not, there was no reason for him to be yelling at her in Target. I just hope I didn’t cause any further problems for her.

Pretty Sure I’m Just Freaking Out A Little

On Saturday Elle was getting ready for her three soccer games – indoor playoff, outdoor club, outdoor rec. I was in her room, lamenting it’s messiness, when she threw me a curve ball. She complained that her left breast area was bruised. I thought this was odd, but maybe she’d been hit with a ball in practice or something.

But when I took a closer look, I didn’t see any bruising. So I felt around her nipple and about fell over when I felt a lump. So I felt the other side. No lump. Me being me, I immediately panic on the inside, all while trying to act very normal, so as not to freak her out. Continue about your day as normal, everything is OK.

I spent more of the weekend obsessing over this issue. Also freaking out a little because I don’t have a pediatrician that we see regularly, and haven’t in some time. We have a family GP that is generally pretty good, and who I used for Zed’s first-ever sports physical just a few weeks ago. But with whatever this is, I decided that she needed to see a pediatrician.

And, further, to soothe my mind, I of course decided to Google ‘breast lumps in 8-year olds’. And I actually do feel better. Sort of. From several boards that I found, this is most likely a pre-pubescent breast bud. I hope to have this confirmed tomorrow morning.

But this leads to another worry. Prepubescent! I remember 1 girl in my 3rd grade class that actually had boobs. At least a B cup. But I didn’t get my girly bits until I was in 5th or 6th grade I think. I’ve heard about girls starting earlier, and in several boards, some commenters mentioned they started their periods at age 9! (Sidenote: Elle turns 9 in 12 days). At least by looking this up, if this is truly what the situation is, I’ve got lots of questions to ask.

This could also explain why Elle has been a wreck the last couple of months. She’s more emotional lately than ever, and cries at the drop of a hat. And I am so not ready for this! My baby. My little girl. She’s not ready for it either. She’s still such a tomboy. I’m sure we’ll get our money’s worth at the doctor’s office tomorrow.

How about any of you moms parents with girls? Is this normal? Am I over-reacting?

Update: Our visit to the doctor eased my mind a bit. Totally normal. This is seen in both boys and girls. Watch it, and it will probably go away. It is a little early for this to be buds, but if the other one starts to develop as well, don’t be alarmed. Mom freak-out can go back to guarded.