I’ll tell you what, all those years I worked in Kindergarten our kids never learned a third of the things this kid has learned at Learning Foundation and Performing Arts charter school. The conversations we have!

First of all, they let her in a year early even though she has a late September birthday. She loves her teacher and though I don’t particularly care for the way they’re teaching her to write her letters (some sort of “monkey tail”) everything else is outstanding. She’s bringing home spelling tests (which she aces) with words like this:

• act
• grin
• blue
• Sunday
• five
• six
• rock
• duck
• swim
• picnic

These are not Kindergarten words. In fact, when I worked in Kindergarten we didn’t even DO words yet, just letters and sounds. And next week’s word list includes words like fantastic and and jumping. Who does that at 5 years old?

Plus she has art, music, PE, and Spanish. There are only 7 kids in her class compared to the 20+ kids in the public school where I worked and my kids went to. I have completely revised my thinking that public schools are good enough. I’m excited to see what she learns next. I’m so proud of her.

I picked Kira up from school Monday and stopped by their house to get a clean uniform for school the next day. On the way there we had an involved conversation about Aunt ‘Rinda’s stupid mean horrible pregnant cat. Kira thinks this pure white cat is going to have lots of colored babies. She’s hoping (eeek) that it has 12 babies and she wants the black one.

Well, I tried to explain about how the colors thing works and, though I know exactly nada about cats, how with it being her first litter she probably wouldn’t have 12 babies. Maybe four or five. And that likely they all wouldn’t, you know, live. Not to mention they really didn’t need to keep anymore cats (they have two) and maybe Daddy wouldn’t let her keep one.

So we get to the house and take the uniform from ‘Rinda’s boyfriend whose name I can never remember… something starting with a B. As we’re leaving Kira spots a couple of neighborhood cats “wrestling”. The one on top is this vague mud colored fella so I’m guessing the upcoming kitties will be a variety of mud and white. There’s usually only one stray male around in any one area, right? Aren’t they territorial?

Just what the world needs, more cats. Blech. If you want to have a cat, get it fixed. Especially if you let it wander around outside.

On Thursday when Casey came to pick up Kira from me, he told her they were going to the zoo on Saturday. They talked about getting up early, googled the hours and rates, etc.

When I saw them Friday night he still planned on it. Wasn’t going to drink much because they had that zoo trip in the morning. Right.

When he dropped her here last night so he could go to a couple of birthday parties I sternly reminded him NOT to get too wasted, because he’d already put off the zoo until today.

So here she sits, all dressed and ready to go. She picked out special comfortable clothes and shoes. Had breakfast so she wouldn’t be hungry. Brushed her teeth without me asking. She’s decided she wants to see the lions first and then asked if the zoo had horses. I’m pretty sure the lions and horses are at opposite ends of the zoo here.

So the zoo opens at 9. I’m calling him now (8:25). Of course he doesn’t answer, but then again he seldom answers but usually calls me right back…

———-

Now it’s 9:20 and he still hasn’t answered (6 tries) or called back. I’m really pissed for her but there’s nothing I can do until I can get him on the phone. He shouldn’t have fucking told her he would take her and then let her down! You don’t TELL kids unless you really, REALLY plan on following through.

———-

Finally! He called me back at 9:30. The plan NOW is to go at noon. Smart plan in this heat but at least he isn’t completely reneging on the deal. Then I WOULD have had to kick his ass. Now he’ll just have to suffer through the heat and her being whiny and tired at the zoo. Serves him right.

There was a time, 20-odd years and 2.5 kids ago, that I paid a bored neighbor woman $30 a week to clean my house (laundry, dusting and vacuuming mostly) because I worked and had a horribly long commute. She wanted spare cash and I couldn’t keep up with it all myself. Casey was just a toddler then so evenings and weekends were better spent doing other things than cleaning.

Now that I have Kira overnight maybe a couple times a week and my house is a wreck I’m seriously thinking about hiring someone to come in and clean up after her. This kid has more crap at my house than at her own! And yes, she usually cleans up (mostly) after herself when I ask, but sometimes we don’t have notice when she’s being picked up and BAM she disappears and leaves everything out.

As I sit here (in my laziness) my coffee table is covered in coloring supplies and snackage mess. There’s still pink bedding on the couch and the floor THE FLOOR is covered in a plethora of stuffed animals and small toys. Plus books, stacks of children’s DVDs, and little clothing in various states of dirtiness. We had 5 minutes notice yesterday that it was time for her to leave so no cleanup occurred.

*sigh*

I don’t want to clean it up, but – although I’ve never been a spotless housekeeper – I can’t stand it! My natural lazy side is warring with my natural organizational side. I have a meeting in an hour so I can’t start on it now so I’ll have to come home to it, just like last night when I ignored it after #EVFN. How many other activities can I find today so I don’t have to come home and clean? It’s the floor that daunts me. Bending over a million times or crawling around? IDONWANNA!

Damn kid. No, damn my own lazy ass.

It’s cute how the earworm in the 4-year-old’s head is @Pink’s Raise Your Glass. Except she didn’t have the words just right so I pulled up the video to listen to over and over. It’s the first time I’ve seen it and it’s AWESOME!

I want to ask so many questions! Like what was the most fun part to do, the sumo wrestler or feeding the calf? Who’s idea was the whole women’s breast milk for the calf anyway? I can’t decide what is my favorite part! I love the waking up with different religious icons too.

So Kira and I were dancing around the living room singing to Pink. And although I’m pretty sure a 4-year-old and her 50-year-old grandmother are NOT in her demographic I’m absolutely sure Pink wouldn’t mind.

Oh yeah, I opened a twitter account for Kira. She’s not such a SmallChild anymore so her new online name is @MsEmphasis.

EDIT: Someone pointed out my earwig/earworm mistake. I blame it on the bifocals.

Babysitting for Kira today and I had to run to Phoenix to the VA Medical Center for some bloodwork. So Kira’s in the backseat babbling about whatever when this conversation started:

Kira: Grammi, I think my Mommy died.

Me: No Kira, your Mommy isn’t dead. She just lives far away.

Kira: I think she’s dead and in heaven looking at me.

Me: No Kira, she’s not dead and she’s certainly NOT in heaven looking at anyone. Who told you about heaven?

Kira: Krislyn. Krislyn said god took my mommy to heaven.

Me: Well, some people believe when you die you go to heaven where god lives. Grammi doesn’t believe in god or heaven or hell or any of that. I think it’s all made up to make people behave. Either way, your Mommy is alive and living in Kentucky, not heaven.

Kira: So god is made up? Is Santa made up too?

(Crap crap crap now how do I handle this one?)

Me: How old is Krislyn? (she’s 5) Does she know everything? (yes!) Not hardly. She doesn’t know that much more than you. You should get your information from grown-ups. Kids tell you stuff they don’t understand.

Kira: OK Grammi. But what about Santa?

Me: Hmmph. Some people think Santa is made up too, but if you stop believing in Santa he stops bringing you presents so I keep believing in him. Do you want presents from Santa? Then you need to believe in him.

Kira: But not god?

Me: Has god ever brought you presents? Or anything else? I don’t believe in him, your Daddy doesn’t believe in him, and Aunt Ginnie doesn’t either. We’re happy behaving without scary stories to make us act a certain way.

Kira: Can we stop and get some chicken nuggets?

She was great at the lab, not wanting to watch them draw blood but otherwise cool. We left there and headed for McDonalds by Arizona Mills so she could blow off excess energy and then to the Sealife thing at the mall. Unfortunately we arrived at the same time as a rather loud and boisterous school group. They were sooooo loud and rude and uncontrolled that she wanted to leave so we wandered the mall for a bit before heading back to finish our tour. She loved it!

First I went through my “I can sleep and stay up whenever I want cuz I’m a grown-up” stage a couple of weeks ago. Up til 3:30 am and taking multiple naps during the day. Turns out I completely screwed up my medication schedule so I had to drop that. I still stay up way too late – out of choice – but wake up way too early – NOT by choice. I’m pretty sure I’m a night owl but I think there’s a conspiracy to wake me up at seven every morning, whether I want to or not. And I don’t sleep well when I DO sleep.

There’s a metal track under the gate in front of my building that I don’t really hear during the day when the TV is on or I’m working, but at night when I’m trying to sleep? EVERY car that drives over it thunks REALLY LOUD… twice! And because this is a huge apartment complex and I’m in the front that’s alotta traffic.

Then there’s the school bus stop right outside my front door. Four different buses running between 7 and 7:45ish – kids making kid noise, air brakes, roaring take-off noise. Arrrrrrrgh.

And so finally I get used to all this and had a couple of good nights of sleep and sleeping in as late as I want! Yay.

Then for the last two nights they’ve been doing road work out on Gilbert Rd. All night. Multiple trucks backing up with their multiple back-up beeping. I’m exhausted. Every time I try to sleep something keeps me from getting there. I went to bed at 10 last night and still didn’t sleep until well after one.

Next payday I’m getting one of those sound machines I’ve always laughed at.

I could sooooo use a nap right now, but Casey’s on his way over to drop of Kira for the night and I’m certain SHE won’t be in the mood to nap.

Grrr. Arrrg, Shit. Shaddup, lack of sleep makes me whiny.

Thanks to Netflix, Kira and I got to sit together and watch Toy Story 3, twice actually. I took this opportunity to remind Kira that she should be good to her toys – not because they come to life when she’s not around – but for when they eventually get donated or gifted to the next child.

Which led to her ask if I had any of my toys from when I was a kid (no) or her daddy (no) or uncle Max (yes – pogs but explaining what pogs were is beyond me) and then Ginnie. Yes, Ginnie still has many of her stuffed animals and carefully tucked away is Jessica, her Cabbage Patch Preemie. And then of course we had to go bug Ginnie to see Jessica.

Baby Jessica is at this moment tucked lovingly under a sleeping SmallChild’s arm, after changing every single one of her outfits. And she still smells like baby powder after all these years, as do all of said clothes.

The thing is, Ginnie isn’t ready to give Jessica up. Kira is allowed to play with her tonight but she has to go back into storage tomorrow.

So now I’m on the hunt for a preemie for Kira. I prefer the preemies because they’re hairless and not as butt-ugly as the other Cabbage Patch dolls. I’m watching a few auctions on eBay, and I’ve even bid on one. Before I go through with that, I just wondered if anyone had a Cabbage Patch preemie laying around they didn’t want anymore.

I’ve learned to ask because every time I buy something someone comes along the next day and tells me they had the item and wanted to get rid of it.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE this kid. When I have her we have fun and do stuff together… for a while. But there’s just not enough for her to do here and she gets bored and what do people do when they’re bored? Eat. She’s like a shark, an eating machine! Since this morning she’s had two separate breakfasts with cereal, two separate lunches of peanut butter sandwiches, the last of the cookies, and apple with dip, and two packages of apple sauce. Probably something else I’ve forgotten. And when someone else eats she begs worse than the dog for part of what they have.

Growth spurt my ass, she must have a tapeworm.

There’s no outside here so she’s stuck inside. Sure, I have play-doh, dollhouse furniture, babies, barbies, and enough art supplies for an entire class. Lately she’s take to cutting up every piece of grocery store ads I get, creating a mess of teeny tiny particle of paper. And changing her clothes every 15 minutes or so.

The whole TV thing is another problem. It must be on all the time and on something SHE wants. Which is fine, I guess. She kind of pays attention to movies and only when there’s musical stuff for regular kids TV, but the minute I put something on I want, she has to be in my lap asking questions and talking through the whole thing. She gets the whole taking turns thing, but considers commercials the end of my turn.

Speaking of lap time. If I counted up all the time she insists on being on my lap (or between my knees in the recliner) I’d say it’s a couple-three hours a day. I get that she’s needy and living with a bunch of males she needs time with a mommy-figure. I manage to be chipper and happy most of the time she’s here, but we both know when Grammi’s done.

I’m done.

I have no idea how other grandparents take on grand-kids full time. It was so much easier when she was a baby and not a real person with real opinions.

Sorry, I’m just venting. Soon enough I’ll be moving to an apartment with more space and an actual outside so she can bike or ride her scooter. And I’ll be breathing better so we can hit the parks and other activities.

Soon.

My friend Ruthie - taken by MrAnathema

So Sunday was our 3rd Annual NoPantsAZ Day on the light rail. There are some pictures on flickr tagged #nopantsaz if you want to go wander through them. It was a bit chilly but I managed to keep up when the whole group strutted down Mill Ave to Robbie Fox’s for drinks and then back to the light rail. Good fun… such good fun I just spent the rest of the day pantless.

Also, I managed to get approved for my new apartment so I finished the day making arrangements for utilities and stuff.

Monday night I had Kira and for some stupid reason we decided to pincurl her hair. She sat still for me to do the front and top, but there was no way in hell she’d let me do her whole head.

As you can see, she wasn’t pleased. I think it’s adorable but she complained all day. I’m pretty sure as soon as her Daddy saw it (and more than likely laughed) she showered it out. Oh well.

Speaking of hair, for some reason I have sores all over my scalp. Maybe it’s a side effect from something I’m taking or more likely, it’s an allergic reaction to something I’ve eaten. I’m beginning to think my fondness for pistachios is causing that and possibly the difficulty with breathing I have periodically and coincidentally after ingesting more than my fair share. I’m really gonna hate giving up pistachios.

What else…

I’m planning – hoping – to get down to Tucson on Thursday to stand as silent guard at the funeral of Christina Green. There are a couple of groups getting together to stand silently arm-in-arm to block any possible hate-spewing by the Westboro Assholes. I want to go, but between the 5000 local residents and if the President or First Lady shows up, it might be better for us non-locals to stay out of the way. Still not sure.

Yes, I’m still slightly bitter about my failed attempt to get to the Jon Stewart Rally. My poor health and ability to walk distances might make the whole Tucson mission impossible for me. But I really want to, to stand against the WBC, to provide what little protection I can for a grieving family, and to show that Atheists have compassion and honor.