Saturday, January 30, 2010

Disturbing Pictures My Son Draws

This is the first post of what may become a regular feature here at Imperfect Mom, Disturbing Pictures My Son Draws. My son is a first grader, and has an unhealthy healthy obsession with airplanes, paratroopers and all thing military. I've been assured by many Facebook friends that these pictures are indeed normal for a little boy to draw, but I don't know.... After being used to my daughters drawings of happily frollicking horses and puppies, with nary a firearm in sight, these pictures are a bit disconcerting. His drawing is still a (I think that's the word I want), so allow me to interpret.


As you can see from this first picture, there is a ginormous purple airplane with a big eye shooting massive black bombs down at the soldiers on the ground. One soldier, a very, very short one, (or maybe he's just dead?) seems to be shooting giant black bombs up at the plane with a bazooka. The plane also appears to be shooting missiles at the ground, except the gunner has made a grievous error, because the missiles are going backwards. Several paratroopers are raining down from the purple sky, and some purple UFO thing. Other soldiers are shooting at each other on the ground with backwards rifles; one has maniacal smile on his face (PTSD perhaps?) While another is hovering, legless, over the ground holding his gun. Balls of fire are all over the place.... We don't let him watch war movies, where does this stuff come from? It must be built into the DNA of a boy.

This one is my favorite. Let's start with the pickle with wings green airplane, which is firing past the erupting volcano at the huge dinosaur on the other side. Almost caught in the cross hairs, is a lone mountain climber on the volcano. I don't know why he's climbing an erupting volcano with volcano-sized dinosaurs in the area, but he's obviously regretting his decision, because he has a huge frown on his red face. The poor dinosaur is likely regretting his decision to visit the volcano today, too, because a flaming meteorite is heading towards his neck, as a smiling man (with some crazy hair) on the ground is shooting him up his....erm.....butt. Talk about a bad day...

Do you see why I'm a bit concerned? I'm going to save these pictures, in case I need to show them to his therapist (parole officer?) some day.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Friday Favorites

I stumbled upon this at iTunes-totally not something I would have ordinarily checked out, but I love it! Some of the songs are blues-ey, while others have a bit of a southern gospel, almost bluegrass sound. Her voice is amazing and soulful, and the music is beautiful."Waiting for My Child" and "We Shall All Be Reunited" are my favorites. You can listen to the music on the Amazon page.

Actually, this is a favorite from a couple of weeks ago, but I wasn't blogging then. Some work friends and I went to Santorini's, , and I had the best food I've ever eaten in my life! The Mousaka is amazing, and the Pasticchio and Dolmades are fabulous, as well. I've had Greek food before, and like it, but this was by far the best!

Not so much a "favorite", but I found out that the girl who has done my hair for over a year is not quite 23 yet. Yikes! That means that I was in high school when she was born-boy she must really think I'm old...

TV Shows
I was really excited that "Trainwrecks and Tiaras" (aka-Toddlers and Tiaras) was back on this week, but I didn't pay very close attention to it when it was on for some reason. I was excited to see a new episode, though. "19 Kids and Counting" is coming back soon! I've missed it. I've become such a TLC addict! I keep waiting to see a new episode of "Ruby", but no such luck.

Bible Verse
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Random Bits and Pieces

Ok, so I just typed a big long thing about my hair, and about how I got it dyed darker, and had the girl blow out straight, and how it made my face look fat, so I felt bad about myself, and went back to puffy face camouflaging curly hair, yada, yada, yada.... But I got bored even typing it, so I deleted it. Anyhow, I like the color-it's a lot darker than I've ever been, and I've been in need of a change. I'd like different style, but I can't find any that will work with my hair and look good on me. I'm in a rut, LOL. My under eye circles look even darker now, though. I wear 3 different concealers (at a time!) and still can't cover them up. Anyone know of any great products for dark circles? I'm desperate!

I volunteered in my son's class again yesterday. No, I didn't have to make copies, thank God! I worked with kids in centers, which was fun. But anyhow, when it was time to leave, my son wouldn't let me kiss or hug him goodbye! My heart was broken! I did at least get a handshake. I'm kind of down this week-my babies are both growing up! My 9 year old daughter has been so moody and dramatic, and it really hit me that soon we'll need to talk about training bras, time of the month, and (oh dear God, no!) I really miss having little people around-I wish my husband would agree to having another baby.... I need someone to baby-I can only talk baby talk to the cat for so long until I start to feel a little nutso!

I think I'm going to take up running. (Refer back to the "fat face" comment above.) I'm absolutely crazy. I hate running for many reasons-things bounce around that ought not too, I can't BREATHE when I run (that's a biggie, LOL), I get bored doing repetitive things, I'm too self conscious to do it in public, and I hate exercising in general. BUT, I need to do something-plus, I saw a quote this week from Eleanor Roosevelt that inspired me. "You must do the one thing that you think you cannot." Well, I never thought that I could be a runner, so I think I'll give it a try. I'm going to do the Couch to 5K thing. Of course, if you ask me next week, I'll have probably changed my mind and Ill be stuffing my face with Rotel dip and chips....

I've really been into reading blogs lately. I have some that I normally follow, but I've been looking for new ones to read this week. I think as a feature here, I'll recommend a blog or two every week. This week, I'm recommended two blogs by the same author. These are two of my favorites: Lindsay is a great writer-she's funny, and she writes about things that the 30something Mom can relate to. is Lindsay's new "style on a budget" type blog. She has some great tips, and I enjoy reading it, although she's too big a fan of leggings and skinny jeans, which I just can't/won't wear.

Well, I think that's all I've got for now...

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Who I Am and Who I'm Not

Ok, so my About Me section doesn't really tell much about me. I'm sure if you've read my posts, you've gathered that I have a couple of kids, a husband, and that I volunteer in my kid's school at times. I figured-for the momentary lack of brain power to focus on coming up with any better ideas-that I'd tell you all a little more about me. Aren't you excited? Me too. Buckle up Buttercup. I just love saying that-my kids hate it when I tell them that everytime we go somewhere-which is probably why I enjoy it so much. (Hey-that could count as my first About Me thing!) Anyhow, without further adieu, or tangents-I'm just so good at adieu-ing and tangent-ing-here we go. Well, we aren't really going anywhere, but I digress (because I'm good at digress-ing, too)....

Who I Am

I am a Christian, and proud of it. Do I always act/think/speak as I should? No. That's where the "Imperfect" thing comes in-but my God loves me anyhow. He's still working on me...

I am an educator. I taught Kindergarten for a short while, and now I work for a tutoring company part time as Assistant Director of Education. I like my job, and love the people I work with. I don't miss being with other people's children full time one little bit. I get just enough of that at my current job, but then I have plenty of time with grown-ups, too. If I had it to do all over again, would I go into education? Truthfully, probably not.

I am a shy person, and I don't like being that way. Over the years, I've learned how to compensate for it in some ways, but it will always be a part of my personality. I'm an extrovert trapped in an introverts body. (That explains the extra 30 pounds-there's an extra person in there!) Deep down, I would love to be the life of the party, the social butterfly-but I'm just unable. I can only "cut loose" and be totally my goofy, silly self with just a small group of people who know me well. Trust issues, yes, but also, it's just me.

I like to read-mostly novels, historical fiction, Christian fiction, and yes, the ocasional "trashy" romance novel (imperfect, remember?) when I can't find anything else. I go through spurts with reading-I find that when I start a good book, I can't put it down, and end up not getting enough sleep, ignoring my family, and letting the house go to crap-moreso than usual. So, I go for long periods without reading much other than magazines and blogs, and then I'll get back on a roll with books

Wow-this is just some high interest entertainment, isn't it?

I spend too much time on the internet, reading blogs and Facebooking. Who doesn't, though?

Who I'm Not

I'm not very domestic, and I don't feel terribly guilty about it, really. I do enjoy decorating, but I don't like cleaning. I'm not one of those people who can't sleep if there are dishes in the sink. Now, lest you think my house is a filthy pig sty-it's not. At least 75% of the time it isn't.... I clean, do laundry, cook, etc. mostly because I have to. I make a lousy stay at home Mom. I've done it before, and seriously, my house is cleaner and things are more kept up with me working part time, because I'm happier. I need to be around other people. Not that I'm always thrilled to go to work, mind you, and I do only work about 20 hours a week (sometimes less), and I really wouldn't be happy working more. I'm basically lazy. Ok, there. I said it.

I'm not athletic. I'm reeeeeaaaaaallllyyyy not athletic. I didn't grow up in a house where sports were watched on tv, and I was too shy to join any sports teams as a little kid. More importanly, I'm as clumsy and as uncoordinated as a blind, drunk elephant on a skating rink. (Picture that, for a moment...) Some of my most humiliating memories took place in gym class. I rarely understood the rules, and even when I did, my body would not cooperate with what my head (and the gym teacher) were screaming at me to do. As a teen, when kids would get together at parties and such and play volleyball, I was always trying to invent excuses to not play. It was excrutiatingly embarrassing for me. I was bad. Not just a little, "oops, sorry I missed that one bad"-but "oh no, I tried to bump the ball and ended up hitting it behind me and broke all my nails, and stepped on the feet of the person behind me-for the 8th time" bad.

I'm not good with sitting still. I get antsy, and need something new to focus on often-I can't just sit and think, or sit and listen to music. I have to be otherwise occupied in some way. I don't think I'm ADD, I just have a short attent-OOOO! Look! SHINY!

Ok, so there you have it. I'm pretty darn fascinating, aren't I? ( I fogot to mention that I'm a little sarcastic.....)

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Fish n' Ties

Last night I noticed my son's little red striped clip-on tie hanging on the armoire door where my husband had hung some of his work ties. Like many little boys, he wants to be just like his Daddy-I hope he always does!
We recently got a fish tank set up. (This relates, I promise!) Hubby has wanted an aquarium for a long time, and I finally decided to go along with it. ;-) Anyhow, aparently, new aquariums take time to get "cycled"-the levels of chemicals, both good and bad, take a while to be "just right" for the fish. So, after many trips back and forth to PetSmart, we had aquired about 16 fish-the hardiest species that they had available. We warned the kids that some (or all) of these fish might not survive, being a new tank, and all. Things went well for a while, but sure enough, the smaller of the two white mollies died. Neither of the kids seemed very atached to the fish, so hubby uncerimoniously flushed it. Later that evening, my sweet, tender-hearted little boy came down the stairs with his little red neck tie clipped to the neck of his Star Wars T-shirt. "Oh", I said, "are you going somewhere?"
"I'm going to a fish funeral", he said solemnly. (Awwwwwwwww!!!!!) He seemed to be ok, though, so we went on with what we were doing. About ten minutes later, he came back downstairs in the matching elastic waist pin striped pants and vest that go with the tie. (Still wearing the Star Wars T and clip on.) He told us he was going on a pretend date with his sister after the funeral. (I'm not sure whether to laugh or worry.....).
An hour later was bed time. We discovered the little guy sobbing hard in his bed-crying over the little white fish. Poor fella-it took about an hour and a half before I could calm him down. Who knew that he was so attached to a fish we'd only had for a week? I sure hope there really is a "Fishy Heaven" up there, or I'll have some explaining to do someday....

Friday, January 22, 2010

The Bethmeister is Makin' Copies

I volunteered in my son's first grade classroom for an hour today. Somedays, the teacher has me work with small groups of kids, other days, she has me make endless copies of mind numbingly boring worksheets. As a technologically inept former Kindergarten teacher, I generally prefer working with students, but today was a copying day. I know all too well how busy teachers are, so I was glad to help anyhow. I'm always amazed at how trusting the people at my kids' school are with turning parent volunteers loose without any training whatsoever on their laminating machines (where the only instructions posted are "Watch out! Machine gets very hot!"), die cut tools, and multi-thousand dollar copy machines. Now, I've used lots of copy machines in my day *puffs out chest with pride*, but this school has some seriously fancy and complicated machines-I'm a little nervous about being in the same room with them, frankly. Also, considering that I'm not good at figuring out mechanical things, much less beaucoup expensive ones, I'm a little intimidated at the whole copying for the teacher thing. (Side note here-we only JUST figured out that our little copier at work will colate/sort papers when the repair guy casually mentioned it. We've been doing it the hard way for YEARS.)

But, the expensive, fancy copy machines aren't the only reason that I find this task so intimidating. Xeroxing at school is a serious, competitive business, in which only the very patient, or very lucky succeed. See, unlike where I taught in backwater Mississippi, our suburban school is heavily armed with parent volunteers, all of whom are initiated into the Copy Club at some point with no instruction other than a vague description of the location of the machine, and the sticky notes labeling each paper with the number of copies needed. Competition for the 4 machines in the school is fierce!

So, clutching the manilla folder chock full of worksheets to copy, I leave the comfy classroom where the kids are listening to a story, and head for the First Grade Workroom. Score! I couldn't believe my luck as I peeked in the room, and saw no one else there. I quickly glanced up and down the hallway protectively, and rushed inside. My hopes were dashed as I saw an error message on the screen. I followed the directions it gave me, to no avail. I had no choice, but to look for another. As I left the room, another Mom came in-probably nearly giddy with joy at the sight of the empty machine as I had been. Once. I warned her about the defective machine, because I'm nice like that, and she thanked me. Eyeing me a bit suspiciously, she informed me that she had heard that the other machines were backed up. The pressure was on. We struck out in separate directions. I scurried off to the Second Grade Workroom. A large woman was defensively standing near the humming copier colating papers on the counter. Large amounts of papers. *sigh* "Oh, do you have a lot?", I said hopefully in a voice that sounded a little too high pitched in my own ears. "Yes, sorry! I'll be here for a long time", she said (a little too brightly, in my opinon), as she stiffened up her already protective posture. Well, so much for that one. I headed toward the next workroom, which I'd heard was in the third grade wing, only I wasn't exactly sure where that was. I wandered through the halls, warily watching for other parent volunteers with their own manilla folders. After finally locating the workroom, and finding it even busier, I struck out towards the office. I passed the Mom I had seen in the first grade hall. "Any luck?"

"Nope, you?"


"Well, good luck!"

"Thanks, you too!"

We rushed off, once again in different directions.
I couldn't return to the teacher job undone. Thankfully, the office lady took pity on me and let me use the copier there. Ahhhhhh! Victory at last. Stepping up to the machine, I nervously opened the folder. The sticky note on the first set of papers requested 10 copies of each, single sided. "Yes! I can do this!" I thought. I dove in to the task, only pausing to allow a volunteer who only needed three copies to jump in. ('Cause, like I said, I'm nice like that.) Afterwards, I got back to work. Oooooo! Twenty copies, single sided for the next set-yeah! Ocasionally, another Mom would step in, clutching her own folder hopefully, and I would eye her defensively (but kindly-'cause I'm nice, remember?) with pittying eyes, and say "Sorry, I have a lot!" I even figured out how to copy to pages at once and have the machine staple them-I felt like the copy master, I tell you! Ok, so I had "copied" and stapled 10 totally blank sets before I realized that I had put the originals in upside down. Oops. But, let's move on, shall we? Feeling qualified to work for NASA, I pushed buttons on the little screen and figured out how to do double sided copies. Correctly, no less! I was the Rock Star of Hewlett Packard operations, baby! Feeling pretty confident, I looked at the next set of papers. Multiple pages, double sided AND stapled. Uh, oh. I looked at the next stack, multiple pages, double sided, folded into books, and then stapled. *gasp* My brain started to spin as I tried to figure how to accomplish either of the tasks left in the folder. "Hmmm, let's see-I can do double sided, but will it sort them for me? How do I get it to do that? What if I get them out of order and stapled wrong-she'll think I'm a dork.", I thought to myself, starting to get nervous.

I looked at the clock over the door hopefully. Hooray! My hour was up. Happily, I returned to the classroom with about two reams worth of freshly dittoed (do they still call them dittos?) worksheets, and handed them over to the teacher. I kissed my son goodbye (they still actually let you do that in first grade!), and headed for home. I survived the Copy Game. Oh no, a roomful of 6 year olds don't scare me, but high demand office equipment does.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Life With a Drama Queen

I called my mother yesterday, and apologized for being such a drama queen as a child. "Why, you weren't a dram...." she said, and stopped talking, as she quickly realized that it was true. I was a huge worry wart, and maybe a bit indulged as the baby, and the "good kid" of the family, so I can recall many instances of over the top hissy fits I threw. I worried about everything, and would get myself worked up quite easily. " A Tempest in a Teapot" was a phrase my mother often called me, as she would stand shaking her head with an exasperated expression on her face. I also learned how to use tears and a dramatic turn of phrase to get attention-particularly from my Dad-when things didn't go my way. Other than my dramatic, anxious ways, I WAS a pretty good kid, so my parents mostly put up with my theatrics. And my husband mostly ignores my theatrics, when they rear their prissy little head (heads?) today. Wait.... did I really just admit that?
Anyhow, you know what they say about payback, being a b....well, you know. That's right. I am the mother of a 9 year old girl with some dramatic tendencies of her own. She wants to be a movie star-she doesn't want to be in drama class in high school, she informed us not long ago; she just wants to go straight to being a movie star. When we finally convinced her that was nearly impossible, she asked us to send her to acting school in New York or Paris. Um....hello? I don't think so, dear. We went to the movies this past weekend, and saw the movie The Spy Next Door. Seriously, the acting in this movie was so bad, that in comparison, the actors of The Dukes of Hazard should have won Emmies. Riley thought it was breathtakingly wonderful. She leaned over to me during the movie and confided, "Oh, Mom! This is just so fabulous! When the actors are happy, I'm happy! When they're sad, I feel sad. When they are angry, I'm angry with them. This is an amazing movie!"
This same future star has an unreasonable fear of all things medical. She had to have a finger prick once a couple of years ago to test her iron levels-really not a big deal, right? Wrong. She had to have chest x-rays taken last year-not painful or anything, just stand there and have your picture taken, right? She still has nightmares over the very benign experience. Let's not even talk about when she has to have blood drawn or shots. *shudder* When her little brother had to get stitches in his head (for the first time), she had trouble sleeping for months afterward, because she kept thinking about the medical equipment she saw in the hallways at the immediate care, even after we explained the harmless purpose of each item. Yesterday, she had to go to the Dentist to have impressions made of her teeth, so she can have a retainer made. Of course, she was a nervous wreck. She sat down in the hygienist's chair, sighed loudly, and said "WHY do these kinds of things always have to happen to ME?" Just wait until she has to go to the Gynocologist someday.
She's also learned how turning on the waterworks every now and then can sometimes change Daddy's mind when he's told her no about something. My husband thinks I'm mean, because I ignore her when she does this, but I'm not mean, I just know what she's doing! I did it first, and by golly, I did it better! But please, pray for me-the teen years are coming, and I'm scared!
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