Another one of those child dancing videos

Chock full of self-confidence after her previous night of dance moves in Jamaica, Katie decided to enter the resort talent show. She and her new friend, Zoe, practiced for hours.They had a great time and loved being the center of attention. Unfortunately, they didn't get to go on until 9pm, so they were a little sleepy. But, no stage fright for these girls... or Timmy.

Sometime after her stage premier, though, Katie caught site of some locals dancing. It may have been during the pool games the next day. But somehow, somewhere...she realized that this is a way more entertaining way to dance:

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Speechless

I've been learning some interesting things about Katie in Jamaica.

Today, as I caught up with her and the other children from kids camp, on their way to the beach for a sandcastle making competition, I noticed she was howling. A cute little girl with long brown hair solemnly told me, "We think she's turning into a werewolf." When I inquired into what had caused such an alarming situation she looked at me with big serious eyes and told me "I'm half werewolf and I infected her." Of course I asked more questions...and was rewared with more sincere responses. Apparently, "It's from the bite. It tranferred into her blood." So yea, I'm now the daughter of a Jamaican werewolf.

And last night...well - last night Katie got her first kiss (other than that of the playground kissing tag variety - although of course I suppose this really was of the same variety). This older boy from England danced her into a tizzy and then apparently leaned in for a snog.

I'm pretty sure they should be cast in the next remake of Dirty Dancing, premised in Jamaica:

On our way  back to the room last night, I mentioned that she sure did seem to have a lot of boyfriends. She told me, "Well, I don't have one of them anymore. "Sean broke up with me." Am I really hearing this correctly? Apparently she knew he was her boyfriend because he broke up with another little girl who is in their daycare and kindergarten class. There were about 3 more breakups somewhere involved in the whole explanation. I asked her, "Katie, do you even know what breaking up means?" And oh...she did: "It means he's not in love with me anymore." Folks I just don't know what to say. Besides advising her that she is much too young to let any boys kiss her or to worry about having boyfriends. Really, I am speechless.

Oh and guess what...turns out the boy above has an uncle who lives in the next town over from me. Talk about a small world. I would joke and make a remark about how funny it would be if they ended up falling in love some day, but I had a conversation with him on the beach today would prove that isn't likely.Apparently he didn't recognize me as Katie's mum - and he was telling me all about this dumb girl who won the treasure hunt at Kids Camp the previous day. I told him it wasn't nice to call anyone dumb and he went on to tell me, but she really was...she didn't even know how to miniature golf properly. But then he relented that they did then become good friends and danced together. I chided him and reminded him that he was talking about my daughter. And he was speechless.

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We miss you, Daddy! (Hope you're having fun at work)

I remember learning so many literary terms in high school English classes and college Core classes and Theatre classes: symbolism, themes, yada yada yada. Well, for those who are not lucky enough to know Katie closely (because using the word intimately just somehow seems wrong) - this video can sum up in 30 odd seconds what life with Katie is like. My girl - my smart wonderful girl - the girl my mom calls "special".

And yes, she did ride the short-bus to pre-school. But she's just your typical 5yo, now. So to all the mom's of 5yo girls out there, I'm drinking one for you right now. A mango vodka and 7, to be precise.

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Silent but Deadly

Reason #342,524 why I would never make it on "Survivor"...only 1 night in Jamaica and my leg* looks like this:

The other leg doesn't look much better. And I never even saw them coming. Never felt them biting. Never heard their pointy straw like apparatus jamming into my skin over and over again.

If you haven't figured out by now, I'm here in Jamaica. My weeklong twitter and facebook campaign to find someone to go with me and the kids**was a bust, but I finally told my mother-in-law she had no choice convinced my mother-in-law to come with us. We got here yesterday and will be Philly bound on Sunday afternoon.

I'll be live blogging (and tweeting via @JulieBouf) all week. Well live plus the 6,345 minutes it takes to upload each photo. And tweeting meaning, on my laptop - since it would cost about $7,234 in data charges every time I turn my phone on. Check back frequently this week, I'll be posting a lot. Randomly. Throughout the day. Whenever I feel like it, mon.

*I'm positive that my calf isn't really this large and that it MUST be swollen from all of these mosquito bites. Swollen skin and rock hard muscle (NOT 32 years of overeating and overall laziness).

**If you really have no idea what I'm talking about, shame on you. My husband realized it really wasn't possible to take off from work, after all, just one week before our vacation. Good times. It's all I talked about for a week straight. And to everyone here in Jamaica. Hell, even my 5yo greeted our resort greeter with,"Hi, we're here for our vacation. We brought grandma cause my daddy has to work and couldn't come and we'll call him on the telephone every night."

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My apologies to Ms. M's Kindergarten class

As the parent of a kindergartener, I get a lot of "reminders" in my daughter's princess backpack. We received slips of paper in bright colors that said "Don't forget to wear a Hawaiian shirt on Friday for the Rick Charette concert" and "Don't forget to dress comfortably for our Karate assembly next week (including the times of the assemblies assigned by grade)". We also received the annual picture day money envelope. Surprised there was no accompanying info, I did the research and went online to the school calendar to see what day would be picture day. And then I promptly forgot all about it. No brightly colored reminder slips were sent home. It wasn't included on the class "Week in Review" newsletter that includes what to look forward to in the upcoming week. But I rely on those reminders, centrally displayed on my refrigerator. My memory isn't what it used to be. I can remember every detail of my childhood, but something from last week? Forget it.

So, Tuesday morning rolled around - the second day of my husband's new job - and we had our typical cyclone of a morning trying to get Katie dressed and out of the house. MULTIPLE outfits were wripped off and strewn throughout the house. They all itched. They all bothered her. Didn't matter if it was her favorite shirt or a brand new one with no tags. So it was a compromise kind of morning. Wear what you want - as long as you're dressed.

Katie finally settled on this shirt:

Ok, not awful. We'll pretend it's not 55 degrees outside. You want to wear it with THIS skirt?:

FINE! At this point, I even turned a blind eye to the Dora crocs.

Tuesday evening, we talked abut Katie's day. While she was telling me her requisite 3 things that happened in kindergarten class that day, she gushed about getting to have her picture taken....

WH WH WH WHAAAAT?!?!

She kept gushing. She was so excited that everybody got really dressed up in fancy clothes. She assured me that everyone thought her outfit was so pretty. She got to take a picture by herself AND with her whole class.

Parent FAIL! 

Some time ago, I read this post  over at Classy Chaos and giggled. I thought, "oh, poor Pauline," but also how cute her youngest  looked. People, it's no joke. And yes, I got retakes done the next day. And yes, even if I didn't, the pictures are only of the chest up. I know her shirt was fine, but I'm thinking of her class picture, here: A snapshot of her first year as an official elementary schoolgoer. And I think to myself - THIS is just another reason why God has given this 5'1" momma an amazon-bred child. So that she will be the tallest in her class; she will be on the top riser for her class picture. And hopefully, just maybe, her lower half will be hidden and history will not record this ensemble.

I am currently too much in the moment to think about how someday I'll look back and laugh at the picture, remembering how "spirited" she was. No, it will more likely rekindle post traumatic stress disorder symptoms - reminding me of the daily torture this child unleashes on me. (This child who I love very much and wouldn't trade for anything....except perhaps one that gets dressed by herself and doesn't flip out for 40 minutes every morning about her clothes bothering her.)

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Why I have smoke coming out of my ears

It's happened before. One of those days that everything that can go wrong WILL.It started shortly after I woke up this morning. I was finishing up picking up Katie's bedroom for today's house cleaning. My husband mumbled as he rushed past me down the steps on his way to the couch, "I have to lay down just a little bit longer. I'm so tired, but Katie peed all over the bed." Not such a big deal, you'd think, since most kids her age have mattress protectors, as does she. Except we had guests last night. So in order to clear out the guest room, which is usually inhabited by Sir Snoresalot, I slept in Katie's bed and she slept in the master bedroom with my husband. Have I mentioned that she's only ever peed the bed like 3 times before in her entire life?!?!?!? So I replied, well did you get her up? Of course not. She was soaked, the bed was soaked. I started the cleanup process, berated my husband, and zoomed out of the house to my early meeting.

As I got back to my desk from the morning meeting, I noticed an e-mail from our housecleaning company. "The dogs are running loose in the house. What should we do?" It was from 1 hr prior. I responded they could be let out back...hoping they could still get there to clean and we didn't have to go another 2 weeks living in filth. I e-mailed Chris to bitch, just a day after he left Katie's backpack (containing her homework) at home. He mentioned how bad HIS morning was. Including the fact that he got pulled over for having a brake light out, only to realize he didn't have his wallet with him.

I picked up the kids from daycare, which days later still puts me in a bad mood - ever since the new daycare provider told me, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," after I stood by one of my parenting decisions. One that is none.of.her.freaking.business.

I got home to a clean house (thankyou God), only to have my cherubs break in to a box of donuts while I was checking our voicemail. Chocolate donuts that then got ground in ALL OVER our newly cleaned kitchen floor.

I opened the mail, excited to finally receive my Jamaica vacation documents. The vacation that I'm already pissed about since I found out the resort I booked at will be closed for renovations and we've been "upgraded" to a different resort. One lacking the huge waterpark we were looking forward to. The one that I couldn't cancel since we had bought an "airfare included" package. Which included nonrefundable airfare. The one that as I opened the mail today, found out that they only booked THREE airline seats for my family of FOUR. Something about Timmy being under two...which didn't even cross.my.mind when I entrusted them to create my dream vacation.

The dogs were in the back yard, barking INCESSANTLY. As I was outside summarily flipping my lid on them, my neighbor mentioned, "Oh, they were out running ALL over the neighborhood today. I let them back in the house for you." Really? Someone used our gate and didn't think it might be a (insert the fact that Timmy just came in to visit and SHUT DOWN my computer). Sorry. What I meant to say was that is it so hard to close a gate at a home where you know DOGS LIVE? This is not a new problem at our house.

So, I finally, after much screaming and silent prayer, managed to get the barking idots back in the house. Tracking mud. Everywhere. Why mud? The yard is dry. Oh, cause Katie was just out at the water table and tracked in water, which was then crossed over by the dirt pawed canines.

So I came up to the office to vent. The children were left to scream Mommy! watch Spongebob.

There's a large puddle of water on my pergo downstairs a la Katie's abandoned cup of water that was commandeered by her brother.

Timmy just pulled apart a lei in the office and I silently celebrated knowing that it would keep him busy for one more minute.

And there goes all the papers off my desk....

And yes asshole, I DO have my period!!!

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Yo, ho!

Don't be offended. If I happen to call you a ho or more likely, "hooker," it means I have the utmost love and respect for you. Just one of those little nuances in life. 

After college, I had the pleasure of living with my childhood friend C for three years. She was and is a very good girl. No drinking, no swearing, no funny business with the boys. And so, of course, our pet term for each other is "hooker." 

It still amazes me how, through life, we continue to meet new people who become near and dear to our hearts. Like a mother with a new child, my heart's openness to new friends is boundless. And I've been so lucky. Beyond my family, beyond my childhood and college friends, beyond my bloggy friends, I genuinely appreciate my mommy friends. Those friends that could be casual acquaintances or new BFF's, but for a conversation. 

With 18 month olds running around and trying to jump their way off equipment and into the ER (mine never actually hurt herself, but oh how she tried),  passing balls and balloons to one another, running side by side to pop bubbles. We met in preschool gymnastics. Casual smiles turned into conversation. The propensity for my daughter and one other particular little boy to be clumsy, wreckless, insane and crazy drew me and his mother to one another to simutaneously shake our heads, roll our eyes, and commiserate. Then there were a few others who were not afraid for their lives when around our two kids, and we started to meet at McDonald's or Friendly's before or after class. Then we started having playdates. And then girl's nights. And then, my generous friend M, suggested a few of us use her Vacation Club for a mommy getaway to DisneyWorld. It happened to be the same weekend as BlogHer '10, for which I already had a ticket and hotel room. And I'm sorry, my bloggy friends, for skipping out on meeting so many of you - but I just couldn't pass up a trip with these girls and our 5 year olds. These ladies who represent everything I value in a friend - honesty, reliability, compassion, generousity and fun. And our kids love each other like siblings.

And our trip WAS magical.

Katie actually wore her fabulous new outfits from 77kids. (In hindsite, I realize many readers may not realize why that is such a big deal, but suffice it to say that we have had SIGNIFICANT issues with Katie this summer regarding clothes. For weeks at a time, I washed the same outfit every night, to be worn every day. To my utter depression and turmoil as I fingered all of the lovely, unworn clothes in her closet.)

And she was so proud to pose in her new grunge, as we traveled over to a kids only Pirate Cruise at the Grand Floridian.

She even accepted a $10 souvenir bribe to wear one of my most favoritest Hanna Andersson sundress sets that she had never worn.

We treasured every moment of our trip.

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We even happened to overlap our trip with my sister's family and had the ultimate experience of going on a Kim Possible mission with them in Epcot.

We swam and played.

The kids were thrilled to build their own cars at Downtown Disney.

And I got an amazing long weekend getaway with my girls, most notably my favorite girl.

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