Hibernation

I think I'm out of it. The hibernation, that is. Ah, feels good. Is that sunshine - actual sunshine - I see?

Seriously, it was New Years...and now it's friggen APRIL?!?

When...how...what?

First off, is it just me (I know it's not) but that was the LONGEST winter I can remember. Ever. It was never-ending.

Spent most of it, I think, sleepwalking and dreaming about being in a bikini on a beach....there may have been a couple trips somewhere. Yes, there must have been because I spent 55 minutes the other night taking tiny braids with beads out of my daughter's hair.

I feel like I'm now calling on a friend who I haven't spoken to in months. But in a good way. With the kind of friend that, even if you haven't spoken to in months and months, you can just take off where your last conversation ended.

So, here's the update in my life.

1) The Dictator is now four and a half. And the braids are out of her hair! It took me 3000 times as long to get them out as the woman in Mexico who braided them in in the first place.

2) Toddlers Gone Wild! is now out! Yay! So go to Amazon, or Chapters and order yours now!!

3) Planning a big bash for the book, a Toddlers Gone Wild party, which is all about toddlers. Will be a red carpet and everything...all for the toddlers!

4) My sister-in-law is about to pop. Seriously, any day now (Actually, last Wednesday) she will give birth to my second nephew.

My four-year old daughter now thinks she's pregnant, thanks to my bursting sister-in-law.

I'm like "Whoa! What did you just say?" when my four year old told me she was pregnant.

My daughter yesterday said to me, "Mommy, I need help to get up. You have to grab my hands! I have a baby in my stomach!"

I laughed, and then told her NOT TO TELL ANYONE ELSE THAT! (I don't want her teachers to be like, "Um, let's take your daughter to a therapist. She thinks she has a baby in her stomach. C-r-a-z-y!")

This morning she told me, "The baby is kicking." I told her, "THAT'S OUR SECRET!!"

The only up-side to my four year-old thinking there's a baby in her stomach is that she's now drinking a lot of milk ("I need MORE milk. It's good for the BABY!" she'll say.)

Ah, lots of tales like that in Toddlers Gone Wild! I think you'll enjoy.

It's nice to be back....

xox
R.

Belated New Years...

Ah, yes, so the long awaited New Year's Resolution.

I only really have one resolution this year. And it's a weird one. I'm not planning to lose weight. I'm not going to obsess about working out. Nope. None of that this year.

My resolution is completely based on my past blog post. (I'm sorry. I will post more of the comments. It's just going to take a while. I have 269 to look through and I haven't turned on my computer in almost two weeks.)

I want to be clear. I did PAY for the apple juice, in case you wondering. And, apparently, a lot of cynics out there assumed that I did not pay for the apple juice. Which kind of hurt. I mean, why do people assume the worst?

Of course I paid for it. Anything my child breaks, I will pay for (I do not take her into china shops for this reason.) However, I will not be shopping in that store again. It was just the way they handled it.

I told another friend about the incident as we walked by the store a week later. I told her I couldn't go in. I was taking a stand, even though she needed to by some Advil.

"They are strange in there," she said. "They always look at you as soon as you walk in as if you're going to steal something."

It was quite interesting to me to read what people thought of customer service. Some thought that I shouldn't have to pay for it - considering I was buying many other items (I didn't end up buying anything but the apple juice.)

I lean too towards customer service. For example, I bought a crap load of Starbucks gift certificates for people for Christmas and while doing so I also ordered a grande non-fat latte. The barista said, "It's on the house."

This is why Starbucks is good with customer service. It was a nice thing to do, totally unnecessary, but completely nice. I will go back to Starbucks.

Once, at Whole Foods, I was buying mini-go yogurts. One of the lids on one of the six yogurts was slightly bashed in. I didn't care. But the dude gave the whole thing to me for free. That's good customer service. It makes me want to go back.

But even more interesting than paying for something versus good customer service it was completely interesting to see how upset some people were that I DIDN'T USE A CART!

Shoot me! I didn't use a cart!

I'm the type of person who believes I can carry everything I need in my two hands (aside from a big grocery shop.)

And even after a big grocery shop, with twelve bags in my trunk, I still believe that I can carry them into my door with ONE TRIP.

And, you know what? I can.

It ain't easy. My arms are usually bruised and the mark on my arms from carrying the bags leave red marks for hours.

But...still...I'm a ONE TRIP kind of gal.

I've always been like that. My mother always used to say, "Make two trips!" And I'd be like, "No. I can do it in one. Trust me."

I'm not lazy. I'm just a person who likes things done efficiently, even if that means my arms are bruised. If I can do something in one trip. I'm going to do it in one trip.

So, my New Year's resolution is to use a damn cart from now on when I go shopping, even if I'm buying a bottle of shampoo. That's it. Interesting huh?

It was also interesting for me to read that some mother's out there don't feed their children in the grocery store while they shop. It may be wrong. But I don't know. I do it all the time. If my child wants a cracker while we're shopping, I will open a box and give her one.

It keeps The Dictator happy, while I can shop for groceries peacefully. And, in case you were wondering, of COURSE I pay for it. What's the difference if she eats a cracker while we're at the check out counter or if we're on the other side. It's going to be paid for.

Other than that, it's been a nice break. We spent a week in Scottsdale with the family. And I took The Dictator to Mexico (again - I'm over my stomach issues.)

I almost cried when I saw that the Dictator can almost swim by herself now. Such joy.

I wish all of you good health and happiness in 2008. And, I promise, I'll use a cart.

Do you have to pay?

Has your toddler ever broken something in a store? Completely by accident?

Did the store owner/manager make you pay for the accident?

Yesterday, I took the Dictator into a store - let's just say it was NOT Shopper's Drug Mart, but a store like it (Really, it wasn't Shopper's. I'm a Shopper's addict.)

She was thirsty so I grabbed a plastic apple juice bottle from the fridge and handed it to her. My hands were full of other supplies - kid's bandaids, baby shampoo, blah blah....

My daughter dropped the plastic bottle of apple juice and the bottle exploded.

It was completely by accident. AND...AND....AND....

The way the plastic bottle broke wasn't in a way that was her fault. This is kind of hard to explain.

But you know the part around the lid, which is so difficult to rip off, but so you know the bottle hasn't been opened before? The kind that you have to use your teeth to rip open?

Anyway, that's not where the bottle broke. The lid broke in a way that if I had dropped it, the same thing would have happened.

Basically, it was a flawed plastic bottle to begin with. A flawed plastic bottle that my daughter completely by accident dropped.

Now, if you were the store owner, and you saw a mother with a ton of other things she was going to buy and the bottle of apple juice that had completely broken in a way that was clearly the fault of the apple juice company and NOT the child, would you make the person pay the $1.39 for the broken apple juice bottle?

Would you let it go?

I'm not going to say what ended up happening or what I ended up buying or not buying. However I am interested in your stories of your toddlers breaking things in stores and the reactions...

Do tell....

The SO-Early Phone Call...

It's the funniest thing....

I've always been a walker. I love to walk. People are always, "Why can't we just jump in a cab?" And I'll be like, "But it's only a 20 minute walk!"

Part of the problem is that I'm a really fast walker. And I mean really fast.

But, anyway...

I was walking The Dictator to school everymorning and enjoying it...(Although the looks from strangers, when I was walking back home with her empty stroller, with only a Starbucks cup in the seat, as opposed to an actual toddler or baby, somewhat made me feel a little crazy...)

The weather turned cold. I had to start to drive her to school. Because that wind tunnel at Bloor and Ave is miserable.

And, I tell you, I'm back at home by 8:30 a.m. thanks to this quick drive.

By the time I'm home, I've already gotten three messages on my cell phone.

These, of course, are from my other mommy friends, who have just dropped their kids off from school.

I don't know what it is about these early morning phone calls. But I love them. I had no idea I had it in me to be so gossipy before 9 a.m.

But I do have it in me. And I love these phone calls. You can't really talk to your mother friends in the evenings, once they are with their kids. Or when I'm with mine.

Because mostly my conversations with friends go like this, "Oh she just spilled her juice. I got to go wipe it up....oh now she wants a bandaid....oh now she doesn't like her mushy grape....oh now she has just taken off all her clothes...I think I should just go. Call me tomorrow at 8:35 a.m.!"

Some of my best conversations now happen before 9 a.m.

Oh, wait....my phone is ringing...It's my best friend who just dropped off her kids....It's 9 a.m.

Teachers and presents....

Again, I need all you mommies out there for some advice.

Yes, it's that time of year again.

I used to be kind of thrilled that I was Jewish and didn't have to go through what seemed like the biggest pain in the ass (according to my friends who celebrate Christmas) when it came to buying gifts. I didn't have to buy X-mas gifts for anyone.

I send flowers to people like certain editors/publishers I like.

But now The Dictator is is full-time school and she has a number of teachers. And I have to buy these teachers X-mas gifts.

She has two main teachers.

But The Dictator also has a music teacher, a gym teacher, a french teacher, a mandarin teacher, and an after-care teacher who sometimes takes care of her when I can't pick her up at three.

Ok, so, my question is, "What the heck do people buy teachers these days?"

First off, her main teacher is a guy. And we all know how difficult it is to buy men presents...anyway. (This is just an added problem.)

Second of all, while I know all her teacher's names, I have no idea what they like to do in their spare time (Would a LCBO gift certificate be appropriate? Because if I had to spend my entire day with 12 toddlers, I'd think that's what I may want.)

I love all her teachers. And The Dictator loves them all too.

So I have to get them something good.

Now, I'm not opposed to gift certificates necessarily. But I would like to get them something a little different, like an actual gift. (That way, they also don't know the exact price of what you spent.)

So, my questions are as follows: What is an appropriate amount to spend on teachers?

What gifts have you given the teachers of your sons/daughters that they seemed to really appreciate?

And, of course, I will be getting a gift for the french/mandarin/music/gym teachers as well. And do they have to be as good as the gifts for the two main teachers?

Please, any suggestions would be greatly appreciated....

A Good Hospital Experience - I know!

So, a few of you have asked how my trip to Cancun was.

It was great....that is, it WAS great, while I was there.

Then I came home....four days later, I was walking home from Pussateri's when I was hit with awful stomach cramps. An hour later, I had a fever, was shaking, and went to bed, crawled into a fetal position, wishing I could die.

The next three days I barely left my house (aside from dropping off and picking up The Dictator from school.)

I, literally, could not leave my house for longer than ten minutes. I needed to be near a toilet.

Not only did I have awful cramps, not the PMS kind, but the kind of stomach ache that felt like I had just done 3000 sit-ups. And the stomach ache was constant. So were the runs.

I thought it was the flu. Although my daughter was completely fine.

By the fourth day, still with the runs and still with horrendous stomach ache, I headed to the doctor, after my family and friends yelled at me, "GO TO THE DOCTOR ALREADY!"

I thought I just had the flu. What could the doctor tell me, except drink lots of water and eat white toast?

Which is kind of what he told me, when I did finally go see one. But, he said, if it got worse, go to the emergency room.

Now, I'm the type of person who hates going to emergency. I always wonder, "Am I sick enough to bother emergency with this?" "Aren't they so overworked with people who actually really are sick?" "I don't want to bother them if this really isn't an emergency."

But, by Saturday morning, I woke up at 6 a.m. barely able to walk. I hadn't eaten in days. I was so dehydrated that I was lightheaded. The cramps were so bad, I felt nauseaus. I couldn't stand up straight.

I knew it wasn't the flu any longer, because I didn't have any other flu like symtoms. No fever, my muscles (aside from my stomach) felt fine. And my daughter was completely fine. And the flu is only supposed to last a few days.

I called a cab and headed over to Mount Sanai, basically crawling into the taxi. I was in so much pain I gave the driver a $20 and told him to keep the change, even though the ride only cost $7.00.

I checked in saying, "I've been sick for a week with diarrehea - non stop. And I'm in so much pain. I just got back from Mexico."

"Hey, I read your book," said the check in person. "I thought I recognized you."

I was soon taken into a room. The doctor came in shortly and I again said, "I'm in so much pain. I have had the runs non-stop for a week. Sometimes up to 20 times a day. I just got back from Mexico."

"And your daughter isn't sick?" the doctor asked. "I read your book."

Now, I'd love to say that people say, "I read your book," to me all the time. They don't. It rarely happens.

And I can't believe it happened twice to the two people I had just told about my bowel problems, one of which asked that I give a stool sample.

I was mortified (Also, because I was in so much pain, I couldn't get out of my pajamas to go to the hospital, so I looked like I had just walked out of a garbage dump and smelled like it too.)

In any case, much like labor, no one tells you the good stories about giving birth. You only hear the awful birthing stories. The same is true for hospitals. You only hear horror stories about emergency rooms and nurses and doctors.

And, I'm sure, the bad stories far outweigh the good ones. But sometimes there are good stories.

I'd like to say that I had a great hospital experience (as great as you can get being in the hospital, that is, with some Mexican stomach bug.)

All the nurses were nice (and not just to me - I could over hear them talking to the other patients) they went out of their way to make everyone feel comfortable.

And the doctor was amazingly kind.

Perhaps the story is that if you have to go to the emergency room, that 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning is a good time to go.

And, if you know someone who works at Mount Sinai, please tell them what a great job they're doing (At least those who were working Saturday.)

They have hard jobs and probably don't get enough kudos. But I give them kudos. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Keep up the good work!

I feel so much better now, after an IV drip of antibiotic. I just wish I just didn't have to tell the two people who had read my book about my, um, runs.

Eeesh..I'm mortified.

xoxoxo

Three times in the past week I've dialled the wrong number from my cell.

What can I say? It's hard to press those damn little buttons with gloves on.

Each time, no one picked up and it went straight to their voice mail messages.

I just hung up. I don't leave messages for people I'm not intending to call. I just call the person I had been meaning to call instead.

But, each time, I've gotten a call back from these people I never meant to call in the first place.

"Hello?" they'll say, when I pick up. (Now, as a mother, I usually pick up all calls, just in case it's an "emergency." Even those dreaded "Private" calls, I feel I need to pick up.)

"Hello?" I said back.

"You just called me," they'll say.

I was weirded out the first time.

By the third time I honestly wanted to ask the stranger I had called by mistake why they were calling me back, especially since I didn't leave a message.

Each time, when they called back, I said, "Sorry. I dialled the wrong number."

They all seemed upset about it.

Why do people call you back when they clearly don't know who it was who was calling them in the first place, and the person didn't leave a message?

If a number appears on my phone that I don't recognize, and the person doesn't leave a message, I don't call that number wondering who it was who called me. If it was that important, they would have left a message, I figure.

Maybe I should leave a message after dialling wrong numbers. "Sorry. I didn't mean to call you. Don't worry about calling me back to check."

It's one of those great technology etiquette questions.

My friend just went through another technology-ish question.

"We used to sign our e-mails with 'xoxo,'" she said to me about one of her other friends. "And now she doesn't. And now I didn't in my last e-mail! What does it mean?"

I've been there. A while ago, I started signing off certain e-mails with 'xoxox.'

The 'xoxo' sign-off takes some thought. You can't just sign off an 'xoxo' for everyone.

There are certain people I've written to that I've really wanted to sign off with the 'xoxox' but I couldn't. Mostly these are professional people (my editors) who I also really like as people. Are they friends? Are they editors?

Or other mothers at my daughter's school who send me Thank You e-mails for the gift I've bought for their kid for their birthday. I want to send back, "Your welcome! xoxox R.")

But who knows? Maybe they'd think I was being a little TOO friendly by signing off with a "xoxox."

I also wanted to sign off an 'xoxo' one e-mail with my daughter's teacher, who kindly helped me out with her skates (buying kid's skates is a whole other post.)

I could sign off xoxox because that would cross the teacher/parent code of some sort. Even though I was really grateful.

In any case, once you start using the "xoxox" sign-off, people expect you to continue using it. They read into it, if they don't receive an "xoxox" in all future e-mails.

Once you're in the "xoxox" circuit of e-mails, you're stuck in there. Once you start using them at the end of e-mails, you've got to continue. Or else people will wonder why they're no longer getting the "xoxo" treatment.

Which is why I don't give out my 'xoxox' to just anybody.

Just a couple random thoughts today...

xoxox