NTS: Apply Heat

If you want a deep, brilliant color in hair: apply heat.

We bleached Kyra's hair and then put in turquoise dye. It sat in her hair for almost an hour and came out a light green. She was gracious and did not act too disappointed. In fact, I think I was more upset than she was. I did not sleep well.

Today I reread the bottle and it said to apply heat for deeper colors. OK, how do I apply heat? I made it up: add color, wrap in tin foil, fry hair with the straight iron, unwrap hair, heat hair again with straight iron, rinse.

Wha-la, deep, brilliant turquoise.

Who knew? Not I. I've never dyed hair before. I've only recently watched a zillion 12 year olds on YouTube doing it, mostly with kool-aid and chalk pastels.

If Looks Could Kill

The morning didn't start off great...

Kyra couldn't find her ID and thought waking me up would help. It doesn't, because I don't know where it is. So I lay in bed praying (seriously) that she will get it together, retrace her steps and find it. She doesn't, but comes in to cry to me. That REALLY doesn't help because that just makes me mad. I get up, yell, send her out the door without it. Because I yelled, PT and Tasha now get up, which is fine because I want to get into the shower.

After my shower, my head is clear and I can think clearly... I ask Tasha if she's seen Kyra's ID and she said yesterday she was wearing it. A-ha, a clue! She was wearing it yesterday when Tasha came home. She was playing with PT in his room. Is it possible that PT got it? And what would PT do with it? Yep, the same thing he does with everything these days...he puts it inbetween his bed and wall, which means it's under the bed with the bickit. I send Tasha under and she comes up with it within seconds.

I call Millie (she drives K to school), she says Kyra was worse by the time they got to school (mainly because they discussed what would happen because she didn't have her ID- a normal child would calm down at this discussion, but this is Kyra we're talking about here), and she even said she felt sick. I imagine she did, being Kyra and all, feel very sick to her stomach. Anyway, I decide to take the stupid ID down to the school but determine that this is my one trip to school today so Kyra can ride the bus home. I don't know where her bus pass is though, so I take Tasha's, hoping they don't check it on the bus.

I call Glenda so I can pick something up, drop Tasha off, forget to pick up the stuff from Glenda, and drive to Kyra's school. I spend 15 minutes in the office waiting for Kyra to finish taking notes on 3 slides in LA (as instructed by her teacher). This would be fine if I had a book and no toddler, but I don't and I do. After searching AZ Parenting mag for balls, flowers, babies, and (woohoo!) Buzsh, and pulling him off the chair that leads to the alarm on the wall, I head outside. BIG mistake because it's stinkin' hot outside. FINALLY Kyra makes it to the office and we take care of business. She's better but now I'm pissed. SHe has a sticker on her shirt that says, "I don't have an ID tag today". Seriously? They branded her! This from a school that has a no bullying policy. UGH.

We leave school and go to SUnflower and this goes well. PT likes to throw the fruits and vegetables into the cart and they hardly get bruised.

I forgot to ask if they sell stamps at Sunflower, so I go to the post office where they apparently don't have stamp machines anymore so you have to wait in line with all the folks mailing packages to purchase said stamps from a super helpful, and cheery post office worker (snicker, snicker). I walk in the door, shift left, then right on past the 2 people at the end of the counter bickering over what to do with their stuff, and get at the end of the line. Apparently the bickering people WERE in line because the lady gives me a look. Yep, THAT kind of look. The kind where you should be visiting me at the morgue right now because I'd be dead. She pushed the man down to be right behind me as they continued to discuss their papers and she continued to give me the stink eye. Whatever! PT and I move to stand right behind her. I consider letting him dance all over the counter and stomp on her stuff, but I take the high road. By the time we make it to second in line (only behind stink eye lady) one of the three post office workers decides to close her line. Now there are 2 workers and a line of people, nothing new. 5 minutes later, I walk out with my stamps in hand and letters deposited, while stink eye lady is still working out her problems.

A Scientist in the Making

Kyra was one of 2 7th grade students to receive the Science award at her school. Yeah, Kyra!

Me: Hey Kyra, I sent you an email today. It has some good links on stuff to do this summer.

K: Like places to go and stuff, or stuff to do online.

Me: Both. There are some sites you can visit and do educational stuff on. One teaches you the science and math behind softball and what hits a homerun, another is put out by NASA. I thought they would be good so your brain doesn't go dead this summer.

K: Cool.

Me: Also, I want you to look up what soy lecithin is.

K: What?

Me: Look up what soy lecithn is. It's in a lot of yummy stuff (as I'm looking at the ingredients on a delicious Utah Truffle that I'm eating). It says it's an emulsifier. That sounds scientific. Find out what an emulsifier is.

K: Why would I do that?

Me: Because you're the scientist in the family so you should find this stuff out.

K: But if it's bad for us you'll stop letting us eat candy.

Meanwhile... Payton is licking the chocolate off the underside of a Fiber One bar. I'm sure that's the part with all the soy lecithin in it, and not the part with any of the fiber. Now, the scientist in him is trying to determine how much licking and stickiness it will take to make that bar stick to the side of the leather ottoman. It's not working though, so he'll have to talk with his sister when she gets home from her last day of 7th grade... the last day at McKemy, ever.

Who are the Awards for Anyway?

This is the first year that Kyra has been at a school that gives awards, rewards, and even grades for that matter. It's the first year that the word "honors" has come up. The first year that placement in classes has been an issue. Testing has been stressed, achievements have been noted, and goals were being set. Now, fortunately for us and Kyra, she has excelled in these areas and hasn't stressed out over any of it. Is that just who she is, is the work not hard, or does she rise to the challenge?

I went to the 7th grade Honors awards today and chased Payton around the gym and outside for an hour and a half. I was very impressed with the cheering and kind attitude most of the students had for one another and for their teachers. They were attentive and really seemed interested in what was going on. These were all the kids, not just the ones receiving awards. In fact, it seemed like most of the students getting awards were coming from one side of the gym and I was on the other. My side was doing all the cheering. It really was quite impressive. Even the final awards, the ones based on GPA, were receiving quite the applause. I say "even" because that is available to all students who work to receive the grades. The kids that didn't get the grades were proud of and cheered for their peers that succeeded. Would adults be that kind to one another? Would we cheer our neighbor without making excuses for our lack of success?

It got me to thinking... who are the awards for anyway? As they called Kyra's name, I was astonished at how successful she had become in one year at this school. I was proud. I started to look at the program and compare my child to the others, but then I stopped. The question I had to ask myself was, "Why now? This is who Kyra is, she didn't TRY to earn these awards, she just did. Why haven't you been this proud all along?" Why does it matter to me or anyone else how she compares to other students? But then the flip side is, shouldn't she get recognized for going above and beyond? If a teacher looks at all his or her students and selects one that has excelled over the past year, isn't it a good thing to reward them? And isn't a little healthy competition, well, healthy? But then again, if you didn't know you were competing, did you really earn the award? If you just did what you thought you should do, do you really need the reward? Should self-satisfaction and self-appraisal be enough? And isn't that the ultimate goal, being 'proud' of yourself? Really, just having confidence in yourself and your abilities, knowing you've done the best you can not based on what anyone else can do should be what we teach our children, shouldn't it?

I don't know the answers to all these questions. They are the ones swimming through my head as I weigh the options of school choices for the next several years. Ugh, when did being a parent become so difficult? That's the real question!

Kyra's First Dance

Bill chaperoned.

WW: "Sit Pretty"

Curriculum Night at McKemy

First hour: I was nervous. I didn't know anybody.

2nd hour: A parent asked a question and I recognized her voice. I turned around and sure enough, I knew her. Kyra and her son played together when they were about 3 years old. Small world.

3rd hour: Recognized a different parent (Lisa) from 2nd hour and discovered that it was both of our kid's first year at McKemy.

4th hour: Can't stand the teacher. She made good cookies but the 10 minutes I spent in there was about 9 minutes too long.

5th hour: Lunch. Joined the PTSA.

6th hour: Science. Saw Lisa again. That's 3 classes our children share, and they have the next 2 together as well. We walk to 7th and 8th period together and discover:

• we both went to THS
• both are learly of sending our kids there
• both feel like traitors if we send them to McClintock
• we live about 3 blocks from each other

7th hour: While exchanging phone numbers with Lisa, we got shushed by the parent that I knew from 2nd hour. Odd. The teacher explains that the 2nd quarter they will be reading The Outsiders. Hello?! That was only my favorite book of all time as a youth! The teacher explained that she didn't like reading as a child until she read this book. She read it over and over and then all the S.E. Hinton novels. Hello again! That is my life story, right there sista! I told her so.

8th hour: Volunteered to edit papers at home for the teacher. She loves me. She's also the one that gave the kids extra homework this evening because they complained about the 4 sentence homework they had. Awesome. I love her too!

Kyra's been happy the past few days and things have been going smoother. I've had my doubts, like any parent does when helping their child adjust to a new place, but it all came together tonight. I sat on Kyra's bed all giddy and silly telling her about the friend that I made. She laughed at me but was smiling the whole time. It's going to be OK. We're gonna make it.

2 Sweets and No Sour

We play "Sweet and Sour" at our house on occassion. It's an easy and fun way to assess how your day has been. Hopefully the sweet point is easy to come by and the sour point is difficult or not so sour. At the dinner table, the sour point is usually the same for at least 2 people (meaning they had a fight, and by "they" you know who I'm talking about).

Anyway, today was Kyra's first day of middle school. It could have been traumatic. I realized at some point that she really didn't know anybody for sure and was going to eat in a cafeteria for the first time in her life. Do we say something or just let it sneak up on her? We talked a little about it (Bill mostly). We discussed that everyone in her 4th hour class would have the same lunch hour and if she knew someone there she could just follow them in and sit by them. I also assured her that lunchroom antics in a real Jr. High were not at all like those on TV. She giggled at that, probably thinking of the scene in High School Musical where they all start singing and dancing on the tables.

As most of you know, Kyra is not much of a talker. Apparently, on occasion, she can stick her nose in a book and ignore you the whole drive home and you have to shout, "Bye Kyra!" as she's getting out of the car. (Not that that ever happened before!) After a long day at school you never really know what you will get from her. If it's been a trying time she can come unglued and let it all out: either by shouting, crying, or fighting. Other times she's a giggly schoolgirl. First day of school? I didn't know what to expect so I braced myself.

After she settled into the van and I finagled my way out of the parking lot, I hesitantly asked, "sweet and sour"?

She shot back immediately with, "my sweet was when Aiden came up to me and said 'hi' to me right before lunch". Phew, lunch fear is over. They also sat by April, another girl from camp, and their other friends from school. Then she added, my other sweet was when she saw another girl she knew and went up to her.

When we were leaving DMS, a parent there told me that this age was all about friends. For the kids, this is obviously true. They need to have friends to feel secure and have fun and enjoy their time at school. For the parents however, school demands a little more than that. Now I can just hope that McKemy fulfills the academic and athletic portion of schooling that we've been missing over the years. Socially, I think she'll be fine.

Twelve.

When did my daughter turn twelve?

Today.

Yeesh.

Summer Is A Drag

I imagine it's because we live in the stinkin' desert and it's stinkin' hot, but summer here is just a drag. I don't want to go anyplace or do anything which means I don't really get to see anyone. Drag, drag, drag. I sit at home staring at my walls, listening to my kids, and glaring out the window wishing the sun away. Blah. Doesn't that word just sum up an Arizona summer? "Blah." Not even an exclamation point is needed because that would mean some sort of exalted feeling. Blah, blah, blah. (period)

The end of summer is coming though. And how do I know this? School supplies!!! School supplies are on sale and Target has it's special holiday section devoted to nothing but papers and pencils and fun coloring items. Sticky tape, bottled glue, glue sticks... you name it, we can adhere it. Binders, backpacks, stretchy book covers that I've never really understood, erasers for all the mistakes we're bound to make, and sharpeners to make a point. Ahh, sweet school supplies!

And what's even better than school supplies? Yep, back to school night, meet the teacher night, and finally... you got it... SCHOOL STARTS!!! How fun was it to meet all of Kyra's teachers at a new school, for a new adventure? TOTALLY fun, and I couldn't stand Jr. High as a kid. All I know is that Kyra found all the rooms by herself, wrote down the supplies she would need, introduced herself (when she was asked), and played it all pretty cool. She's ready, no worry there. Transitioning to a big public school had made me nervous in the past, but I felt pretty good about things last year. I never looked back or considered looking elsewhere. McKemy was the place for her and she proved me right today. What a great day!

Now, we can coast this school's roller coaster for 2 years and them I'm right back to square one for research and finding high school. Yeesh. Maybe summer isn't so bad after all...

But, for now, "I'd send you a bouquet of sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."

Girls and Guns

It is quite obvious that we are a household full of non-gun owners. Neither mother, nor father grew up around guns and therefore the children of this house are completely gun ignorant. For girls this is probably not a big deal. For little PT however, it may prove to be embarrassing as he grows older. Not the fact that he doesn't know anything about guns, but more importantly that he has been subject to the girly version of guns.

Stage #1:

Tasha declared that she was shooting Kyra as she ran through the room pointing her fingers and squeaking "pew, pew...pew, pew". Kyra shot back with an equally wimpy gun noise. PT laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more. He laughed so hard at them that the girls continued the shoot out just to amuse him. The only way I can describe the noise that the girls were making is to say it sounds somewhat like the laser guns that they shoot on Star Wars only much softer, less gusto, and quite a bit higher in pitch.

Stage #2:

After PT stopped laughing, Tasha ran to her room and made a gun. Out of paper. Any boy would have been embarrassed by this thing cut randomly from lined paper that wouldn't even keep it's shape as it was held. More "pew, pew"-ing. More laughing. PT later ate this paper gun and pooped it out this morning. I could see the lines in the paper.

Stage #3:

Tasha made another gun for Kyra so they could be on equal fighting ground. She explained the gun to Kyra so she would know how to shoot it. "Here is the pull thing", Tasha pointed out. Ugh. The 'pull thing'? Do you mean 'trigger' sweetheart? Oh my poor, uninformed children.

Stage #4:

Big sister comes to the rescue to help with construction of a real fighting machine. It makes the same sound, of course, but this time it really has the right shape and can hold it's form. It is made from a pen and a lip gloss and is held together with red duct tape. You're laughing already, but it gets better. The highlight of this fighting machine is that it is a multi-purpose weapon. Because all girls are very practical, the duct tape only covers the main parts of said gun. This strategic placement of the tape allows for the lids to be pulled off of both the pen and the lip gloss. So, if the evil fighting sounds of this gun are not working on the target, one can simply removedthe cap to the pen and quickly write them a nasty letter. Or, replace that cap and remove the lid to the lip gloss, gloss your lips, and go kiss your target into submission.

Now, I've heard friends of mine claim that their boys will turn anything into a gun. They were talking about a shoe, a piece of celery, maybe a bitten pretzel with just the right shape. Give me just one boy that has crafted such a fine tool as my girls have though. I mean, it's not everyone that can fight with shiny lips and write home to tell the family about it, huh?

NTS: Comfort Kyra More

This morning, while nursing Payton in the bedroom, I heard Tasha yelling at Kyra. Again. And again. And again. It's nothing new, and it pretty much happens on any given day at any given time. There is no rhyme or reason to it, and believe me (!), I have tried to figure it out. I have also tried pretty much everything to put an end to it and not much seems to work. There just seems to be no empathy in that little one. She just honest to goodness can't see/feel how her actions are affecting the other people around her. A friend of mine said that some kids you have to teach that to. That's my new quest- how to teach empathy.

Anyway, this morning I opted not to yell at Tasha, not to send her to her room, not to "talk" with her about it (because that usually ends in yelling and room sending), and quite honestly, not to deal with Tasha about it. I just went into the kitchen and kissed Kyra on the head. Then I hugged her, pushed her head up and gave her another kiss on the nose.

"What's with all the kissing and hugging?" Kyra asked.

"Oh, I just think you've had a rough morning. You've been yelled at a lot and I know that doesn't feel really good, does it?" I replied.

"No. It doesn't" (not in her pouting crying attitude or mean voice, just matter of factly)

"I just figured you could use some lovin' and I thought I'd tell you how much I appreciate you and how hard you try to please your sister some times," was my final word and then I walked out of the room to finish getting ready to leave.

Do you know what that little stinker Tasha did? She apologized to Kyra! The second I turned the corner of the room, she said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you Kyra." What a little $#@*!!! I swear to you, I will never figure that kid out. But if I do, you'll be the first to know.

A Friend's Craft Site...

If anyone is interested in another Super-Saturday type craft night see this link for a night out on March 26th. I'm going to go and make these cute blocks for spring/Easter. I'm also going to see how they make the Scrabble Tile necklaces that would be cute with the kids initials on them. Anywho, she's way out in Gilbert so if you're flexible and want to carpool, let me know. I'll have Payton with me and am debating taking Kyra to help with either the craft part or the babysitting part. She was a great help at softball last week and has earned the right to stay up every Thursday night for the purpose of letting her mother play ball. Everyone should have an eleven year old!

Sometimes It Takes Tears

Kyra does what she is told. She pretty much always has. When she was young, if I told her to stop doing something, she would. If I asked her to do something, she would. If I was stressed out she would up her game and not stress me out as well.


Tasha is another story. She plays off my emotions, almost always being one step ahead of me. If she is anxious about something, I usually get anxious and hour or so later. If I'm upset, she gets upset too. When she can feel a situation getting tense, she starts acting out which just makes things worse.


Parenting is tough business, especially when your children are nothing alike. Just when you think you know something, another child comes along and challenges that knowledge. Geez. What I have discovered is that tears seem to work with both of these girls. Not their tears, mine. Honest to goodness, sincere tears from me seems to help them understand my point of view and become repentant. I can only recall 3 times that it has happened...

1. The girls had been at each other's throats for days and I had tried everything to get them to cooperate, etc. I finally just quit trying, went back to the laundry room, shut the door, screamed and then started crying. Kyra came and found me, put her arms around me and calmed me down. She really stepped it a few notches for a while after that.


2. Tasha used to refuse to hold my hand in the parking lot. That freaks me out because she's shorter than many vehicles and she could easily get backed into. Then there's also the problem of her just running off and getting hit. She must have been about 3 years old when I broke down right there in a parking lot. I cried and cried and told her I just didn't want her to get hit by a car. She put her sweet little 3 year old arms around me and hugged me. She never again pulled her hand away from me or refused to hold hands with her sister. It stuck, to this day.


3. Tasha likes to play outside in the front yard. That's fine with me as long as she stays in the big yard and doesn't go over to the little side yard and around the side of the house by the park where I can't see her. There are crazies over there and anyone could just take her. I've told her this many times. I've yelled it many times. I've sent her to her room, taken away play time, refused to let her go outside because she continues to do it. You can tell when you're talking to your kid that they are just listening to the words without absorbing them and taking them to heart. This happened Saturday afternoon and I lost it. I yelled and threw her into her room, steamed on my own for a little while, then pulled her out of her room and told her to go back outside and do whatever she wanted. She finally stopped crying and came inside. I told her we could pack a bag with some clothes and food in it and she could keep it on the side of the house so when someone came and took her she would have some of her own things with her. Tasha didn't like that plan but still nothing on that little 5 year old face. I kept talking and finally ended up in tears telling her how much I would miss her if she was gone and I really didn't want that to happen. I was so upset that I had to go outside to calm down before I went into her room. She had written my name on her chalkboard and put about 10 hearts around it. She came over and hugged me. We told each other that we loved each other and that we wanted to stay together forever.


Ugh. I'm exhausted. Maybe I should go read that parenting book...

And Then There Was One

I realize that I just posted about 2 of my kids and left the 3rd one out, as usual. So, to be fair, I will complain about Kyra now. I went to start a load of laundry and needed a basket. Where are they all?

One is full of whites that I just took out of the dryer this morning.

The other is in Kyra's room.

With about 4 items in it.

It's been there for days.

WHY CAN THIS CHILD NOT PUT UP HER CLOTHES!?!

Disney w/ Kyra and Tasha

This is pretty cool that I get to write a post about a fun time that I had with BOTH of my girls. And, to top it off, it was a time that they CHOSE to hang out with me when they had the option to go with their friends. Now, granted, I didn't make the other option sound very good, but they did choose me and their dad. I think I said something like, "would you rather go on some super slow sucky Nemo ride where you have to be all enclosed in a submarine underwater and just look at a bunch of fish that you've seen in the movie, or do you want to go on an awesome log ride where we get to scream and zoom down a hill and get splashed and have fun?"

My girls LOVED Splash Mountain and so did I. It was better than I remember it and better than the water ride we went on our first day because we didn't get soaked this time around. It was PERFECT, I tell ya, P.E.R.F.E.C.T. It was New Year's day, 8am, and everyone else in CA was sleeping apparently. The night before there was a 70 minute wait to get on this ride but that morning we walked on. The log that holds 6 people was occupied by just us 3, so it wasn't so heavy that we dumped hard into the water and got drenched. I wasn't sure if Tasha would like it or not but she absolutely did, even with the chill in the air and the mist on her arms. After the final dive at the end both girls were giggling and smiling with delight and both were wishing they could have sat in the front. We were giving each other high fives, feeling sorry for all the suckers that didn't want to ride it because they would get wet and cold, and loving the fact that we were together. To top it all off, we got to the drop off zone and there was nobody waiting to get on. The lady in charge said, "do you want to ride it again?" There were two enthusiastic "YEAH"'s before I could even turn around and see if they were up for it. I just love that my girls are all about the fun, fast rides and I'm grateful that Bill was fine taking care of Payton while I got to have this memorable time with them. Too bad the pictures I took were on my phone, the one that broke.

What's Grosser Than Gross?

Listening to 3 tweenage girls munch on popcorn while having stuffy noses and thinking that all 3 of their hands are going into the same bowl. Yummy.

Whatta you got?

A Conversation You Won't Hear in the Sauer House

Tasha yells to Kyra as she is walking past her bedroom door down the hallway,
"Aaah, I hurt my penis!"

Kyra, exasperated, "You don't HAVE a penis!"

Tasha argues back, "Yes I do!"

Kyra, sort of chuckling in a duh kind of tone, "NO, ya don't."

Tasha gives in, "Oh yeah, I don't. I have a vuh-JIE-nuh!"

I'm still laughing. Who raised these girls?

WW: Big Sisters

False Labor?

This 'morning' I woke up at 1am and absolutely could not go back to sleep. I say 'morning', because really- after 2 hours of sleep is it really morning?! I don't think so. Anyway, I got up and walked around for a while having a few contractions but not really intense. I hopped in the shower because that usually gets things started and afterwards had pretty regular 5 minute intervals between them. "Well sure, I thought, that's because I'm up and moving. I bet if I sit down they will go away." I tried that and was still having them for a half an hour. By now I'm starving and thirsty, etc., etc. I get up, eat, pee, walk around, pee, sit down, pee, read, walk around, pee, pee, pee...

By 5am I've had it. I'm exhausted so I lay down to try to rest. Bill gets up at 6 am and I'm happy to report I slept for an hour. I feel pretty good and the contractions are still there. Subtle, because I'm laying down, but still there. Alright family, it looks like we're having a baby today. Everyone stays home and people seem to get to work. For a while. Then they're not and they are driving me C.R.A.Z.Y. This folks, is why women don't labor at home- limited space and too many people in your way. Maybe I'm weird, I don't know, but I don't want to have to worry about slipping on a puddle of water in the kitchen because somebody got some ice on the floor and didn't pick it up. Call me crazy.

So I walk over to the park for a little while and realize that these people that I love are totally distracting me. I sit down on the bench and the contractions are fading away. Only when I walk are they there. It's 9am by now and I'm tired. I've had 3 hours of sleep. I go home, tell everyone to go to work and school. Today is not the day.

The baby seems to be lower and I've still got some contractions coming. I made a berry pie and a chicken pot pie for dinner. YUM. Someone at Bill's work said that a false labor confirms that the baby is a boy. Figures. They tease you and then they don't follow through. I relate this information to Kyra and she says...

"Yeah, boys are always tricking you."