Belly Some Jelly

The Redhead had President's Day week off from school.  This appears to be a California thing.  Other states do it too.  Kansas was not one of them.  But I'm always more than happy to have an extra week off with The Redhead.  And Mister Man took a couple days off too.  During this time, we decided to say, "get in my belly, jellies."  Okay, so I said that.  And I actually did.  I also said, "we're going to belly some jellies today."  And I don't even liked jelly beans.

There is a Jelly Belly Factory in Fairfield, California, a little over an hour from us.  We had yet to make it there since moving to this sunny state, so it was time to take a free tour.

Okay, so I was really, really curious about all of the jelly bean murals of Ronald Reagan throughout the establishment.  It made me wonder all sorts of things.  But during the tour, they were more than happy to tell us their story.  Dear Ronald put Jelly Belly jelly beans on the map.  He loved them so.  So therefore, Jelly Belly loved Ronald Reagan so.  

I wasn't allowed to take photos during the actual tour, but we did have to wear these nifty hats.

And I stocked up on Bertie Bott's beans in the gift shop.  They will be splendid for our party this July.  

For lunch, The Redhead wondered if we could eat there.  I was skeptical at first, but then our food arrived.

And I'm not sure if you can tell, but it's all jelly bean shaped!  Aside from the little smiley faces.  I still remember when The Redhead called those "happies" as a wee tot.

If you're ever in the neighborhood, it's well worth checking out!

Love & Clearance

So...I'm slightly addicted to clearance shopping at Target.  This isn't a new admission from me.  Also, it felt like it took Target forever this year to put their items to 90% off.  The Redhead (who was out of school for the week) and I kept checking one store to no avail.  Little did we know, every other store did hit 90% on a Friday.  The Redhead felt terrible we didn't check those other stores out, but that's okay.  Even that Friday night, I managed to find some hidden treasures.  Then that Saturday morning I woke up early, my fourth day in a row.  Much to my disappointment, I had a fierce opponent.  I say this because at Christmas, she literally pulled stuff right out from me...along with another woman.  And there she was again. And before my very eyes, she did a sweep of the shelves with her wide arm span.  I was in shock.  But never fear...I did not go home empty handed.  I still had hidden treasures to find.  And I could tell she didn't even want half of what she swept into her cart, but she couldn't put it back while I was around.  Oh well, lady.  That's not how I operate anyhow.

This was most of what I found.  From several stores.

I actually found lots of these pajama sets for 99 cents a piece.

The frozen puzzles were 99 cents.  The Spongebob bubble whistles were 39 cents.  All of these items are being donated.  Most to the class prize box, but others to a local group that helps foster children.

I loved those pink purses.  $1.20.

The Play-Doh sets were 59 cents or so, depending on the store.

The pink princess puzzle sets were also 99 cents.

The Nerf guns are NOT for the class prize box.

One of the few items for our household, and the cat has already been playing with one of the planes.

The socks were 49 cents, the slippers 79 cents.

50 cents for those balloons.

Yeah, despite some aggressive competition, I still managed to win.  Without compromising my integrity.

The California Way

We heard from our softball coach today.  Tomorrow we have a mandatory parent meeting.  At 5:30.  And we just found out about it.  And while this kind of annoys me....it appears to be the California way.  It is not uncommon for the school to announce things last minute.  Or to get birthday invitations within a day or two's notice.  On weekends, people don't really seem to show up until the afternoons.  And no one appears to make advanced plans.

This is all the California way.

Being a planner, and not just one of those people who call themselves a planner...no, a genuine planner....with notebooks and "write to-do list," on her "to-do list" kind of planner....this is the hardest concept I've had to face since moving to the west coast.  I welcome the weather.  I think even the change of pace is at times good for me.  But last minute plans? DRIVES ME MAD.  How can you tell me something is mandatory or that I need to be there when you told me the day before? HELLO?! Do they not make plans  in advance? On a Friday night?!  Well, apparently they do...just the day before.

Saying or typing that this is irritating to me is an understatement.

I just don't know how to live like that.  But I've had to adjust in the last year and a half.  I just hope it doesn't become a habit, become my lifestyle.  Even if it is the California way.

Paging Dr. Grey

I was sitting in this waiting room of sorts while The Redhead was in her vocal class.  I brought my pal Harry along in his Chamber of Secrets and a notepad.  I was minding my own business hanging out with Harry, jotting down notes for an upcoming party, and I start to find myself listening to a conversation taking place.  Not that it was my fault.  It was sort of hard not to hear this conversation.  And it was definitely impossible  not to listen to it.


There was a teenage ballerina that had joined the waiting room group of ladies.  And before you knew it, this ballerina was going on about Grey's Anatomy.  I didn't hear any of it in the beginning, but then I was fairly sure I heard something about her being qualified as a doctor.  And I'm sure I had misheard.  Or perhaps she was kidding.  But then I heard her talking about how she watches Grey's Anatomy enough that she's just as qualified as any doctor.  She could enter any ER, any operating room, and know exactly what to do.  After all, she knows most of the codes now, thanks to Grey's Anatomy.  And yes, I thought she was kidding too.  But as she continued, I realized, the only ones who were kidding were the women contributing to the conversation...not the teenage ballerina.



First off, she said blood doesn't really bother her because she's seen it enough on television.  "And Grey's Anatomy is realistic you know, just like real life."  Second, her mother said, "I have two words for you- 'AP Biology.'"  The girl kept attempting, "but, but but," and the mother kept repeating those two words over and over.  Apparently AP biology didn't go very well and the girl tried saying AP Biology didn't matter and that it's barely part of being a doctor, and the mother assured her the classes in medical school would be far worse.  But this teenage ballerina was convinced she was fully capable of being a doctor, even without medical school.  Apparently all you need is a lab coat, at least according to her.  At least that's all she needed.


Another helpful woman was suggesting a medical field "less difficult, like sports medicine or something," which made me laugh as I attempted to pretend I was still reading my book.  The teenage ballerina's mother kept shaking her head and repeating how awful AP Biology went.  Meanwhile, the teenage ballerina was still citing all the ways Grey's Anatomy had trained her in her future career as a doctor.  She even now knew how to save someone's life in an elevator.  Someone asked how often that is needed and she replied, "more than you'd think."


While I'm sure she's not the only person who thinks they're more than qualified to be a doctor after watching a television drama, I'm really hoping she keeps those mad skills to herself...or to the dance floor...or to her imagination.  Because medical school exists for a reason.  No matter how "accurate" and "realistic" a nighttime soap opera may seem.

Stay Weird, My Dear, Stay Different

If I was only allowed to give The Redhead two words of advice, I would stick with the cliche, "be yourself." I wouldn't be clever enough to say it any differently, but please know, I would mean it as "stay weird," "be free," "stay different," "be happy," "be you."



If you are friends with me on Facebook, this is going to feel repetitive, but I feel like messages such as these could never be repeated enough.  




Graham Moore won the Oscar Sunday night for best adapted screenplay for The Imitation Game, a screenplay that was once on the Black List of the best screenplays that had yet to be produced.  Obviously, it was rightly placed on that list since it has now been produced, was an amazing movie, and he now has a highly coveted golden statue named Oscar as his very own.  But Graham Moore wasn't the true winner that night.  Every viewer was.  If you were watching, probably like most viewers, you were moved to tears during his acceptance.  He was inspiring to the world with his "stay weird, stay different" message and it's currently trending for a reason.  He was ever so brave on that stage, taking his moment to shine to not only win graciously, but to share his almost suicide at sixteen, to remind us all Alan Turing did not have the same freedoms people are allowed today, and most of all, to remind youth to be themselves.



I have a confession.  I was actually privately thinking Whiplash was going to win.  I'm ashamed of that now.  Not because Whiplash wasn't wonderful and the screenplay wasn't fantastic.  No.  I'm ashamed because I would have missed out on the beauty in his words.  The world would have missed out on his fast-paced, eloquent wording, so gracious, so humbling.  And he deserved that win.  And most of all, we all deserved to hear his words.  They were such necessary words.


And I hope The Redhead will never hear these words enough.  From me. From her father. From you.  I hope she always feels like above everything, she can be who she wants to be, who she already is, who she sees herself.  Quirks and all.  I hope she knows that we never expect her to be anything more or anything less.  Although it worries me greatly the pressure she puts on herself, and I worry she thinks it's expected, I've also realized that perhaps that pressure is part of who she is.  For better or for worse.  That drive.  And I hope she puts that pressure on herself more for her than for us.  But regardless, I just want to be here for the moments she does fall, she does fail, when the hard work isn't enough.  And I want to be there when it is.  And I want her to know that we know she has the map to the path she's on, as she's always sort of gone her own way.  We just want to follow her.  She doesn't need us always showing her the way.  She has this.  I know that.  And when she gets lost from time to time, I want to offer a flashlight.  Because she's going to need that more than directions.  Because sometimes, all we need in life is to have a light reminding of us of who we are, and the path in front of us, but instead, people want to give us a new map, with new directions and tell us how we let ourselves stray.


I want The Redhead to know she is amazing for many reasons.  There isn't just one thing that defines her. Not her hair, not her curls, not her dimples, freckles, not her love of science, or her high reading level.  She's not defined by her tiny stature, or slightly hoarse voice, her love of plush animals, her lack of dolls, her favorite color of blue, or the face she makes when she thinks she's getting in trouble.  And we love her for so much more than she is.  The only expectation I have for her is to stay who she is, no matter how she evolves, no matter how she changes, no matter what that means.  I want her to know she doesn't have to fit into any societal mold.  I want her to know our idea of the perfect child is her, no matter the imperfections.



And I hope most parents feel that way.  Maybe you'll think in your head that all parents feel that way.  And I don't know if I agree with you.  I've met too many people who have already mapped the road for their children.  I've met a couple people who have actually said to me that the worst thing for their child would be to be gay, while I said, "for me, the worst thing would be for my child to be dead."  They both commented "well, you know what I mean."  And no, no I didn't.  Because for me, I understand to a degree wanting your child to fit in....but I don't want my child feeling as though she ever has to hide.  I don't want her feeling like she has to be somebody she's not.  I want her to be content.


We all want that right?



There's been a trend of parenting in the news lately for allowing their young transgender children to become the people they see themselves.  Maybe you're unfamiliar with this, so I'll explain it in simpleton terms.  You thought you had a son, but your son is actually female on the inside.  These parents then allowed their children to start dressing the part, being the part, being the person they always were anyway.  This sparked an outrage among some conservative parents saying, "they're confusing their children further, they're encouraging this, it's just a phase."  Hey, you know what?! What if it is just a phase?! Then how about you let that "phase" play out....  Maybe they'll "outgrow it," maybe they won't.  But not allowing children to have their so-called "phases" only stunts their growth and development anyway.  And have you ever heard the phrase "choosing your battles"?  Yeah....


And what's a greater battle than being your true self?  What's a greater battle than making sure your child knows they can be their true self?  Regardless of what their friends think.  Other family members. Their teachers.  Even you.  Gosh, if as parents we didn't have enough issues....we have to make sure our children know their purpose, their desires, their goals are even more important than what they think we might think.  What their friends might think.  Uphill battle, definitely.



But there's light at the end of that tunnel.  And maybe our kids won't end up winning an Academy Award.  Maybe that's not their dream.  But they will win.  Even when they don't.  Because they're themselves. No matter how weird, or how different, or how "normal" they are.  Whether they're popular or not.  Whether they fit some sort of standard.  Whether they're a cheerleader or the captain of the football team.  Whether they're valedictorian.  Even if they're #816 in their class of 1,200.  There's only one valedictorian of a class, usually.  There's usually only one captain of a sports team.  And most of all, there's only one version of you, of your child, of each of us.  Even when we change.  Even when we lose.  But if you don't allow failure, you can't allow success.  So, as another person stealing Graham Moore's beautiful poetic words, "stay weird, stay different."  Because we all win.  And that's wonderful.

Terra Nova Hudson

20 hrs · 

was moved to tears last night while watching the Academy Awards. Graham Moore may have won the Oscar for adapted screenplay, but the viewers are the ones who really won. He was inspiring with his message to "stay weird, stay different." So for all the parents out there who hope for their kids to only be "normal," popular, the standard....she of course has been the odd one. Because she hopes The Redhead always stays different, weird, special....herself. Because that's where the success comes. The special. The awesome. Because whether your kid is a genius, straight, gay, a model, famous....they should be themselves. And when that happens, when that is allowed, that's when we all win.

Family Life, Scripted

Last year, The Redhead first learned of "the change."  The big change.  Not the change involving moving to California.  Oh no.  She learned about THE CHANGE for women....that time good ol' Aunt Flo comes to visit.  She didn't learn this from experience, as she is still very much our little girl, rather, she learned this at school in a program they refer to as "Family Life."  And this year, "Family Life" came up again, and just like last year, she insisted she attend.



Strangely, she was very excited about this.  And I still have no idea as to why.



So...on January 23rd, 22 days ago, I retrieved The Redhead from school and asked how her day was.  One of her friends was walking with us, and The Redhead says to me, "Let's just say there's an us and them."




And apparently this year's "Family Life" was much more in depth.  There was a shock factor there for both girls.  As well as myself.



"We didn't see it coming."  The Redhead just kept shaking her head.



Then she told me, "this is exactly how it went down in class."  But then she didn't follow much with that.  Then I asked her if we'd discuss it further at home and she said, "yes, yes we will."



I'm such a lucky mother in the fact that my kid tells me all the dirty little details.  And maybe in a few years she won't, and I guess I have to accept that, but for the moment, I'm going to cherish everything she will tell me.  I'm also grateful for the fact that not only does she share these moments with me, but she allows me to take notes, verbatim, of the entire conversation.  She has accepted her mother's insanity.  And I'm still curious as to why.






This takes place in our living room, The Redhead pacing around the room.

The Redhead

Do you want to know all of it?

The Mother

  I want to know what you want to tell me.

The Redhead

 Puberty.  They had this video and the characters were all so excited about it.  Good job!  You had your period! That's amazing!  Your breasts are developing!  We talked about tampons and pads and apparently tampons can be really bad.  Because there's, I guess there's some sort of disease you can get from keeping it in too long.  One new thing.  We found out how exactly tampons work.  Apparently you, oh this is nasty, apparently you stick it halfway up your...you know..AND then you push on the string part and the plastic part comes out and then you leave it in for awhile, an hour or two. Which in my opinion is absolutely nasty.  And also we learned how to make babies.

The Redhead's cheeks reddened.  The mother was thinking in her head how she really hoped they explained the stork delivery service or molding babies out of Play-doh.  The Redhead continued to pace.

The Redhead

  Apparently women have egg sacs and oh, this is nasty.  Men have something called sperm.  

The Redhead giggles.

The Redhead

  Which, how should I put this, gives life to an egg. That's the best way I could put it. 

The Redhead continues to giggle while pacing.

The Redhead

And if a guy doesn't have a sperm which gives life to the baby...dun dun dun....period.  Then that's how periods are made.  How they happen anyway.  And we also learned the age group you start puberty.  

The Mother

  You learned that last year.

The Redhead

  I can't remember from that long ago.  This year, nine to twelve, no, thirteen.  We also learned that men have something called...(clenches face)...a penis. (Snickers)  Which is apparently....how they pee.  We learned some other stuff about girls and boys.  But that's pretty much all we learned about.  It was still fine.

Thank you school system for relieving this mother of such an awkward future conversation with my child.  Although, let's be honest.  Most children learn this from their friends, or in my case, cousins.  I'm grateful The Redhead will not learn such things in that manner.  Instead, she spent a small moment pacing the floor in our living room, reddened cheeks ablaze, regurgitating all information, willingly.  The fact she does this so openly and honestly without pause amazes me.  Maybe not all parents would feel the same, but chances are, their kids are learning these things from their friends and cousins.  So I guess it's all about perspective...

Why haven't I been blogging?

I'm not really sure why I haven't been blogging.  I don't have any true excuses.  It's not as though I've really thought about it.  That's probably the main reason I haven't.  If I've thought about blogging, it's only been in passing or it's been the thought, "someday I should blog about this."  And clearly that day hasn't come yet.



And I haven't been forcing myself to blog like I was.  I was forcing myself to blog my shopping trips, or day trips we took, or photos from a certain event or experience.  And I decided that I shouldn't force such things.  This is my blog.  If I want to blog...I should blog.  If I don't want to blog...then why bother?





It's about focusing my energies towards blogging, and well, I clearly haven't focused my energies to blogging in 2015.




Maybe I will soon.  Maybe I won't.  Either way, it shouldn't be forced. Ever.