Monday, March 07, 2005
things I learned this weekend
1. The library is good. I'm over my books-must-be-new phase, I think, and I thank god for it, because it was a damn expensive phase. Friday was the first day I've taken Rabbit to the library; I have to say that it was a learning experience. The lesson: Do not attempt to introduce your child to the library when the two-year-old kid is hopped up on steroids and tired as hell. 'ROID RAGE AND LIBRARY BOOKS DO NOT MIX. The entire time, she was either:
a) running away while looking back at me mischeviously. I actually thought this was pretty funny, but the librarians and other library patrons did not seem to agree.
b) pulling heavy books off the shelves and "reading" them. I let her pick out a kiddie book to look at, but of course Dr. Seuss does not compare to collectible ceramics price lists. This is a child whose favorite book is the phone book, after all. (Please do not cry, I reshelved all the books correctly. While she pulled new ones down.)
c) trying to reach the books on the library sale tables (which meant I did not get to check out all the tables, disappointing since this was the biggest sale I've seen at our little branch).
or d) pointing to people reading books out loud to their kids and letting them know that that was actually her book.
And the most beautiful moment of all came when I was checking out and the librarian helpfully told me that she's seen a lot of parents have success with strollers in the library. Unfortunately, Rabbit hates strollers and if I had put her in one, she would have spent the entire time trying to unbuckle and escape. Although that would have kept her quiet . . . hmmm. I think I might try it next time. I also need to get a large STURDY tote; it's been three years since I visited the library, and I forgot how many books grab my attention and how heavy a bag of those books can get.
2) It is impossible for other people to mind their own business if you have a child. We were shopping yesterday at Wal-Mart (boo, hiss, whatever, I just had to bounce a check to pay for medicine for my child, so obviously we're low on cash. We shop where we can afford it and make up for it by crying ourselves to sleep.) and Rabbit was in the basket. Rabbit hates wearing shoes and socks, and I can't say I blame her for that. So she took her shoes and socks off and I let it ride because we were in a heated building, the body heat from the hordes of shoppers was enough to make it tropical in there, and she wasn't walking on the floor, so it wasn't dangerous. Ben took her with him while I futzed around in the crafty section looking at fabric remnants. He came back five minutes later looking all red-faced. It seems some random guy looked at my child and said, "Well, little darling, your feet are going to get COLD!" and ten other random shoppers turned to look at my hideously uncaring husband. Sweet god, she was wearing winter clothes, it's not like she was in a sundress carrying a dacquiri, obviously we aren't insanely unaware of the weather. Did he really think we were carrying her around outside without shoes? I would much rather let her go without shoes for twenty minutes inside an overheated building than hear her screaming because we won't let her take them off. And I suspect after two minutes of the screaming, Sir Perfect Child-Rearer would agree.
3) A two-year-old child does not understand why she can't eat cake when there's cake sitting right in front of her, and no amount of "Shh! Inside voice!" will quiet her discontent. My sister's play was Saturday night at 6:30, and because there were only two or three babies attending, the school decided not to offer childcare. Now, 6:30 is cutting it a little close to most babies' bedtimes not to have a nursery, in my opinion. Add to that the fact that there were no "baby" meals offered, only a $10.00 kid's meal, and I wasn't too keen on management. So we gave her some of our food, although of course she only wanted the cake. Later, Mom talked the kitchen out of a leftover hamburger, but of course they made clear that they wouldn't give her the fruit snacks and drink that came with the kid's meal. And the first half of the play I ended up trolling the halls because the play director had yelled at a kid the previous night because his baby niece had started yelling hellos when she saw him on stage. So to prevent my sister from meeting the same fate, I let Rabbit run down halls until she was too tired to complain about anything. I did get to see the second half, which was good, and my sister J was terrific. It's her last year; I'm glad we got to go, even if I did bitch a little (lot) about the lack of childcare.
4) Just because your bank has paid a bounced check and only charged you an overdraft fee in the past, don't count on them to do it again. That one's a self-explanatory lesson. I was already planning to change banks, but now I kind of want to go back in time and do it two years ago. It was only thirty dollars over, I haven't bounced a check in four years, and the bank returned the check and charged me $20.00 for that pleasure. And now I get to pay Target's returned check fee on top of it, PLUS I will be shunned from our Target forever, which is bad because it is full of prettiness.
5) Do not leave your ADD-ish husband alone in a room that contains both your child and a permanent marker. That's probably the most valuable lesson of all.
a) running away while looking back at me mischeviously. I actually thought this was pretty funny, but the librarians and other library patrons did not seem to agree.
b) pulling heavy books off the shelves and "reading" them. I let her pick out a kiddie book to look at, but of course Dr. Seuss does not compare to collectible ceramics price lists. This is a child whose favorite book is the phone book, after all. (Please do not cry, I reshelved all the books correctly. While she pulled new ones down.)
c) trying to reach the books on the library sale tables (which meant I did not get to check out all the tables, disappointing since this was the biggest sale I've seen at our little branch).
or d) pointing to people reading books out loud to their kids and letting them know that that was actually her book.
And the most beautiful moment of all came when I was checking out and the librarian helpfully told me that she's seen a lot of parents have success with strollers in the library. Unfortunately, Rabbit hates strollers and if I had put her in one, she would have spent the entire time trying to unbuckle and escape. Although that would have kept her quiet . . . hmmm. I think I might try it next time. I also need to get a large STURDY tote; it's been three years since I visited the library, and I forgot how many books grab my attention and how heavy a bag of those books can get.
2) It is impossible for other people to mind their own business if you have a child. We were shopping yesterday at Wal-Mart (boo, hiss, whatever, I just had to bounce a check to pay for medicine for my child, so obviously we're low on cash. We shop where we can afford it and make up for it by crying ourselves to sleep.) and Rabbit was in the basket. Rabbit hates wearing shoes and socks, and I can't say I blame her for that. So she took her shoes and socks off and I let it ride because we were in a heated building, the body heat from the hordes of shoppers was enough to make it tropical in there, and she wasn't walking on the floor, so it wasn't dangerous. Ben took her with him while I futzed around in the crafty section looking at fabric remnants. He came back five minutes later looking all red-faced. It seems some random guy looked at my child and said, "Well, little darling, your feet are going to get COLD!" and ten other random shoppers turned to look at my hideously uncaring husband. Sweet god, she was wearing winter clothes, it's not like she was in a sundress carrying a dacquiri, obviously we aren't insanely unaware of the weather. Did he really think we were carrying her around outside without shoes? I would much rather let her go without shoes for twenty minutes inside an overheated building than hear her screaming because we won't let her take them off. And I suspect after two minutes of the screaming, Sir Perfect Child-Rearer would agree.
3) A two-year-old child does not understand why she can't eat cake when there's cake sitting right in front of her, and no amount of "Shh! Inside voice!" will quiet her discontent. My sister's play was Saturday night at 6:30, and because there were only two or three babies attending, the school decided not to offer childcare. Now, 6:30 is cutting it a little close to most babies' bedtimes not to have a nursery, in my opinion. Add to that the fact that there were no "baby" meals offered, only a $10.00 kid's meal, and I wasn't too keen on management. So we gave her some of our food, although of course she only wanted the cake. Later, Mom talked the kitchen out of a leftover hamburger, but of course they made clear that they wouldn't give her the fruit snacks and drink that came with the kid's meal. And the first half of the play I ended up trolling the halls because the play director had yelled at a kid the previous night because his baby niece had started yelling hellos when she saw him on stage. So to prevent my sister from meeting the same fate, I let Rabbit run down halls until she was too tired to complain about anything. I did get to see the second half, which was good, and my sister J was terrific. It's her last year; I'm glad we got to go, even if I did bitch a little (lot) about the lack of childcare.
4) Just because your bank has paid a bounced check and only charged you an overdraft fee in the past, don't count on them to do it again. That one's a self-explanatory lesson. I was already planning to change banks, but now I kind of want to go back in time and do it two years ago. It was only thirty dollars over, I haven't bounced a check in four years, and the bank returned the check and charged me $20.00 for that pleasure. And now I get to pay Target's returned check fee on top of it, PLUS I will be shunned from our Target forever, which is bad because it is full of prettiness.
5) Do not leave your ADD-ish husband alone in a room that contains both your child and a permanent marker. That's probably the most valuable lesson of all.