Camping Dred

We just got back from a three-day camping trip to a nearby Nebraska State Rec Area (SRA). We swam, fished, rode bikes, walked, played with our dog, and my five-year-old developed the dreaded camping dred lock. When we camp, it is family time, and some of the day to day conflicts we normally engage in are thrown out the proverbial window in favor of conflict-free family fun. One such conflict is that of hairbrushing. My five-year-old would rather chew glass than have her hair brushed. She has naturally curly hair underneath and wavy on top hair. The curls tend to get really snarly, even after a normal day of wear and tear, so you can imagine what three days of wear and tear without a comb or brush in sight might look like. I'll take the imagination out of it and show you:



So, when we arrived home today I quickly dumped her into a tub of warm suds and immediately doused her in shampoo and then a nice large dollop of conditioner. With the conditioner still in, I combed from the bottom up. Surprisingly, the dred slid out nicely. I think we may make this a nightly bathing ritual. I braided it and VOILA! Good as new. Dred lock free hair!

Crystal Dawn

Oh where, oh where could our Crystal Dawn be ... Oh where ... Oh where can she be?
With her rolicking wit and her en-ten-dres ... Oh Where ... Oh where can she be?

At Least No One Else Can Try To Claim Them Now

My daughter, who is five, is learning to write her letters and numbers and can copy words like no other. She thought it would be nice to label my shoe for me. She added the extra "m" for effect.

A Child's First "Break-Up"

I originally posted this in my blog but I was told it would fit here also...so here ya go Morgy....

My twelve year-old had her first boyfriend this year. This is a boy she goes to school with, in the same grade and he lives very close to us. I am friends with his mother and after several lectures and threats the guidelines to this infant relationship were set.Two short months later my daughter and I start to hear from other children that her boyfriend is telling them that he is going to break-up with her.

The next time I saw the boy I asked him if this was true. He smiled a cocky little smile and said, "Yes".

"When were you going to tell her?". I asked

"When I get to it.", he replied.

"Consider it gotten to!", I barked.

So I talk to my daughter thinking (like an idiot) that this will not phase her but the second the words left my mouth I could see her beautiful little heart sink. I could see her fighting to keep the tears back and it ripped my heart out. I put my arms around her and told her how sorry I was. I also told her that it was not my place to end her relationship and that perhaps she should talk to him and find out what was happening.She did and he apologized to her and to me. He said that the other kids were giving him a hard time and he just wanted to shut them up. I again told my daughter that what she did was up to her and to my dismay (which I kept to myself) she gave him a second chance.

My heart swelled with pride and I realized just how much my daughter listened to me when , while having my ear plastered to the other side of the front door, I heard her tell him, "If you ever disrespect me like that again I'll replace you with someone bigger, stronger and way better looking!"

So in the end I guess things worked out but I will never forget the rage and helplessness I felt when I saw the hurt in my little girl's eyes and for the first time I truly realized that I can't fix all the problems and I can't keep them safe from all the pain. All I can do is be there to listen and give them my lap to cry in while I plan the torture and dismemberment of whomever caused it (secretly of course). ;-)

Guest Blogger: Erin B.

Here is an email I recently received from a former student of mine who is now a spicy mama ... among other things. She has always been a writer with voice so I am thrilled to share her writing right here on Hot Mama Sauce. She has one son named Noah and he's a year and a half right now.

******************
Noah’s a bit young still for anything too exciting, but he’s fast becoming a little conversationalist, still too shy to be a socialite, and he’s got a sense of humor that’s, well –- let’s just say, he’s my son. I don’t think I’ve told you, but perhaps I have, that our Auburn office person has quit, yet again –and I’m up here, stuck in some kind of cellular purgatory for the remainder of…Lord, I don’t think I can take any more of it!

Anyway, Noah had his 18-month check up a week and some change ago. Being stuck up here was actually a bonus on that day –- mom had to take him to the doctor for me, and he was getting shots. Poor little guy, he definitely makes a face that screams “Et tu, mommy?!?”

So, mom gets him there, gets him in the room, gets a hold of his chunky little leggers so they can give him his shots and he starts yelling “Help me! Help me!”

Where in the world my one and a half-year-old learned to yell, "Help me!" is a mystery! The nurses were all shocked “Is he saying ‘help me’?” Very funny, a little heart wrenching, and as always, proof that my son is a little to the left…

(Side note: We found out at that appointment that Noah’s in the 50th percentile in height, 75th in weight, and …are you ready, this is funny… 95th in circumference of his head! We always called him “big-headed, baby Noah”… Apparently we were right.)

I got another one that I witnessed first hand… it’s a testament to how stubborn I am, and to how much more stubborn my son is.

Noah and I were in the living room, and I had the front door open, as I do on many occasions in an effort to cut down on my utility bill. He was standing by the door, face pressed against the screen, screaming “OUT, Mama, OUT!” We’re currently working on circulating the words “please” and “thank you” through my household, but alas, my son absolutely refuses to even think about saying either one of those things.

So here we are, with me saying over and over “If you say please, mommy will take you outside to play” “Say please, Noah” “Noah Michael, you can scream all day, but we’re not going anywhere til you say please,” and him retorting with “OUT!” “PLAY!” “NO!” and my personal favorite “STOP IT!” My limit was at about half an hour of this, when he finally mumbled something that wasn’t remotely close to “please” but was similar enough that I gave up the whole battle and took him out to play.

We weren’t even outside for 30 seconds when I stepped on the sharpest little twig I have ever seen poking out of my yard like a dagger, and I, out of sheer ignorance, say “Oh, piss!” It’s terribly annoying how I can tell Noah for half an hour “Say please. Say please” and get no response, but one time –- one time I say “piss” and he’s wandering around the yard telling it to the bushes, the squirrel, the nice, little, old lady that lives next door… and her dog too! I was so embarrassed. It was terrible!

I don’t know if any of these are of any help to your bloggers, but they were pretty funny happenings in my mommy life… It was worth sharing anyway.
******************
I don't know ... sounds exciting to me Erin B. Thanks for your contribution. Erin says when life slows down, she may join us as a regular contributor. When should I break it to her that life NEVER slows down ... well, until you die that is.

Guest Blogger: Mindy C. (Update)

Here is an update from Mindy C. as requested by many interested parties.

******************


Above: Anna and Amber at Anna's graduation party ten days before Anna was married.

Dear Mama-friends,

I was truly touched by the reactions to my account of my wayward daughter Anna and how she ended up married at 18 to a man she had only known a few months, and was 9 years older than her. This past year has been very hard, not only because of the ensuing estrangement we have had to endure, but also that life has gone on, and Anna is not a part of it, nor are we a part of her life.  

I will be bringing you all up to date on this saga, but first I want to give you a little background. Anna is a middle child, with an older and a younger brother.  She was always an active little girl, and love to catch little things outside -- snakes, spiders, beetles. She was very smart, and also very stubborn. She loved to torment her brothers. She loved to draw, and had a beautiful voice, too. She loved her cat, Snickers. And she had one best friend since kindergarten -- Patience.

Anna and Patience, and also the third friend in their circle, Vici, all worked at a local Taco Johns. That is where they met David. There were also other people who knew David from work, and so there were a lot of mutual friends. 

After Anna and David got married, they socialized less and less with Anna's old friends, and they actually lived for a few months with a friend of David's ( in the friend's parents' basement). All this time Anna was withdrawing more and more from her family and friends. This all came to a head because of a very tragic accident. 

On July 5th, 2006, a group of girls had been at Patientce's house, and decided to drive to Norfolk to visit one girl's mother. Gina , Chris and Amber went, but Patience stayed home. Amber and Patience were very close, and Amber had been living with Patience, at Patience's parents' house.

You might remember the news accounts of the accident. Chris's truck rolled on the highway. Chris was seriously injured, and Amber was killed. It still seems impossible that this very bright, beautiful woman is gone.  I was in Colorado at this time, and getting that phone call from Patience's mother while standing on a street corner in Estes Park was surreal. I was helpless to do anything.

Patience was distraught and nearly inconsolable.  She needed all the support available, and Anna was the main pillar of that support. But David was not as compassionate or understanding as he could have been, and was very unhappy with the amount of time Anna was spending with Patience. Two days after Amber's death, there was an incident at Patience's house. I can not give a complete account of what happened because the stories all conflict, so I'll stick to what I know for sure.

Anna was at the house, and left to pick David up from work. She had forgotten her purse, so went back with David to get it. The girls at the house, and especially Patience, didn't want Anna to leave again right away, but David insisted. They tried to prevent Anna and David from leaving, and things got ugly, including one person actually jumping on the hood of the car to stop them.

After that, Anna would have nothing to do with her friends. I tried to explain to her that people who are grieving cannot be held to normal standards of behavior, but she wouldn't forgive them. As far as I know, she has not talked to any of them since. (Anna did ask her brother Alex to tell her about the memorial service that was held for Amber.)

OK -- that's all for this chapter, but here's a weird fact for you. David and Amber have the same birthday -- January 25th.
******************
      

The Learning to Speak English Accent (Updated)

My daughter just turned five. I have always found her "learning to speak English accent" rather amusing.

To give you a couple of examples:

What she means--------------What she says
Comfy****************************Conthy
Vacation**************************Bah-cation
Guitar*****************************Ti-guar
Refridgerator**********************Reflidge-ah-lator
Bra********************************Brawl
Apartment************************Tipartment
Roof******************************Ruth
Movie Theater********************Moody Feeter
Valentine's Day*******************Valentime's Day
Monopoly*************************Bonopoly
Went******************************Goed
The Virgin Mary*******************The Birgin Mary
Hamburger************************Handburger

My older daughter, when she was very small (like two or so) had trouble pronouncing "coffee". She would invert the "f" and the "c" sounds. Think about how that sounded.

More to come.