The art of manipulation

Alright, alright, I am working on the Christmas card ordeal. Who knew you would have such an interest? Now, I just need to figure out how to pass this off as a "work project" to delegate the scanning to our IT person. I'm totally annoyed that I don't have the electronic copy saved on my laptop. We will talk about how Myspace gave my computer a virus and erased everything I owned another day.

Anyway, we have been in a position where regularly we are telling Kate that something is for grown-ups, or she's not quite old enough for "xyz" yet. She was watching TV with Craig a couple of Sundays' ago. After the third Max & Ruby, Craig decided cartoon time was O-V-E-R. He nonchalantly switched the TIVO to football.

Kate: Can I watch another Max & Ruby Daddy?
Craig: No Kate, we are done with Max & Ruby?
Kate: Please daddy. I want another Max & Ruby. Just one.more.time.
Craig: I'm sorry Kate, we are done watching cartoons.

Pause.

She's been beat.

He is not budging.

Her pitiful, eyelash batting, pouts always get answered.

Crap.

Kate: Daddy, um, football is a little old for little kids.

how about the obvious: Max & Ruby probably isn't appropriate for anyone. Max needs to learn how to talk and Ruby needs to stop being so damn bossy.

Overachieving is Overrated

The pressure is on and to be honest, I don’t have time for the pressure. Two years ago, I had the brilliant idea to do a photo Christmas card. Now, we all know that I am not creative, or crafty. Remember, I covered all of those things that I am not here. The dust bunny stealthily hiding under my desk could come up with something more creative than I ever could.

However, that first Christmas card was an overwhelming success. I heard about it for months. So, when last Christmas rolled around, I used every last iota of creativity I could muster and coerced myself into creative mode one last time. That poses a problem for this year people. Last years card was another whopping success according to all who received one. Note that I am not bragging about my Christmas card ability, I am strictly relaying the information I have received. I actually must question the lameness of the other cards they received that made ours so spectacular. Apparently the competition is pretty weak amongst our social circle.

Regardless, the pressure is on. For weeks I’ve had people asking about our card this year. I finally came up with one great idea … however, it involves a Christmas tree. If you have learned anything about me, you would know that the thought of us actually having the tree up right now is about as likely as Dubya receiving any type of presidential award. But, I digress.

So, I’ve moved to plan B, which has included a lot of additional preparation; preparation that I just don’t have time for. Yesterday I bought dishes and pajamas, now I just need the cooperative kid and we will be all set. I need to get this done this week and I am doubting the cooperating kid bit. Would it be wrong to hire a fill-in? With a head swap possibly?

So, stay tuned for our Christmas card extravaganza. If you take away anything from this story, let it be to always underperform. If you do, no one will expect anything more, which makes life a lot simpler.

I'm so not a professional blogger

I am by no means a professional blogger. I sort of stumbled into blogging by accident. In all honesty, I’m quite impressed that I have made it five months with this blog. I’m quite famous for having a million new hobbies and grandiose ideas that either never come to fruition, or fizzle after weeks of holding my interest. I think I am on to something with this whole blog-hobby.

In case you don’t know, there are blogging rules of etiquette. I don’t do well with normal etiquette rules, so the odds are not in my favor. In fact, I pretty much know I’d screw it up and earn a LARGE SCARLET LETTER S on my forehead if I attempted to engage in professional blog activities.

However, one thing I am a sucker for is comments. It makes my day when people leave comments on my blog. It makes it a little less lonely here at I Used to be Witty and makes me feel slightly less like I am just entertaining the voices in my head. Okay, I don’t have voices in my head, but you get the point. So, with all of that being cleared up, I am going to play on SITS. Readers, go check them out for some great blog links. Bloggers, go check them out to get linked up!

Kate: Month Thirty-Four

Dear Kate,

Sometime last month you turned thirty-four months old. Between work, midterms, one trip to the ER, holiday preparation, and life, these last eleven days slipped away from me. For the record, this is my really pathetic way of justifying the fact that I am late, once again, with your monthly update. I figure at this point, you don’t really expect anything less. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you right when you are starting to figure me out.



You have been obsessive about Christmas and all of the corresponding preparation. In your mind, the series of events go: snow, sled, reindeer, santa, tree, presents. Accordingly, in the logic of an almost-three-year-old, the minute that tree appears, presents will automatically start multiplying underneath it. Daily you ask if today is the day we get a tree. Daily I tell you not quite yet. However, it is currently ALL.ABOUT.THE.TREE. When the mood strikes, you will nonchalantly point outside and say, “That tree looks perfect mom. Let’s take that one home; it would be a perfect Christmas tree.” You also think that you are going to get THREE presents for Christmas. Finally, I’ve found an area where my performance will far exceed your expectations. Score: Mom 1, Kate 1,290,876.



Lately it’s been all about the drama and all about your ability to demonstrate the control that you really have over this household. We have coined these little performances kate-tastrophes. They are sort of catastrophes in your mind, not so much in ours, but if we fail to play along, all hell breaks loose. The kate-tastrophes rear their ugly head most often at bedtime. A drink! The potty! A band-aid! No band-aid! Light on! Light off! Sock is crooked! Or, like moments ago, your baby had her pajama leg pulled up, requiring massive mommy intervention. I know some people believe in the whole cry-it out thing. You don’t play that game. The longer I let you holler and scream, the worse it gets. In a game of cry-it out, I would certainly be the one crying until I clawed my eyes out and collapsed, while you would just be getting your second wind.



Your vocabulary continues to grow at an exponential rate. You say words and phrases that I am pretty certain are atypical for a toddler. Your favorite right now is ‘that’s amazing’, followed closely by ‘thanks but no thanks’. Sigh. As your aunt stated the other day, you talk in paragraphs, not sentences. I am hoping this is some sign of inner brilliance and not just indicative of a future career in voice-overs or politics.



This past month has been a fairly tumultuous one in our household. Thankfully your daddy-o and I have had you as a bright spot in our days. Sometimes those hiccups in life allow you to put yourself in check and really stop and embrace the thing that matters most. Sweet Kate, that thing would be you. Looking forward to a fun and wonderful holiday season!

Love,
Momma

At least her glass is half full

Winter has arrived! We got pounded with snow over the past 24 hours and I am now officially ready for winter to be over.

As we were headed out to the car, Kate said "Someone needs to turn the heat on outside. It's cold out here."

I am hoping she keeps her cheerful, optimistic, disposition. I am much more apt to curse and yell for the majority of the winter season.