bacon and jewels

I celebrated Mother's Day sans Amara.

Stupid bronchitis took me out of the loop all weekend long. And Dad2Amara needed to take Amara to see Grandma2Amara.

(Sorry Lola2Amara. Wish we could have spent time with you.)

But Dad2Amara and Amara made sure to make the most of the morning with me.

I was brought breakfast, complete with fresh bacon from my favorite market and a beautiful necklace.

Amara was told she could choose anything as her Mother's Day gift to me. And of course, my daughter chooses jewelry.

Love that girl.

I wore my necklace today. I'll take a picture of it soon. It's simply gorgeous.

But I'm going to have to train her...while I heart my necklace, a mom still needs some other necessities. I'm going to have to introduce her to Sephora one of these days.

why I could be the world's worst mommy

I'll give you three choices. You decide.

1. Amara's school was holding its Mother's Day "tea" Monday afternoon. Afternoon. You know, the ideal time for a working mom. I promised Amara I would go. But then I realized I was working by myself that day. Then we had breaking news. That's television speak for not-a-chance-in-hell-can-you-leave. I was so torn. Luckily I had Dad2Amara. He told me "how could you?" then reminded me, "she's your daughter." Ain't he sweet and supportive. So after an agonizing afternoon at work, I finally made it to her school for the last ten minutes of the program. I sobbed the entire drive from work to her school. I was the only mom not at her school.
2. Amara told Dad2Amara that she wanted to watch her new television show tonight. Hell's Kitchen. And yes, my four year old said hell.
3. Before turning in for the night, Amara told me she was "sad" because I was late to her school yesterday. It made her "nervous." Bad mommy.

I just don't win. Another typical day for a mother.

sleeping beauty

No amount of coffee can keep me awake these days. I'm tired. And cranky. And there's not much I can do about it.

A mom just needs her sleep.

Apparently so does a preschooler.

I arrived home a bit late Monday. Dad2Amara had started dinner. We were moments away from eating.

And all I wanted to do was hug Amara.

"Amara?" No response. "Amara?" Still no response.

My little princess was in bed fast asleep. Hours later, she's still down for the count. But even a kiss from Mom2Amara isn't going to wake this beauty from her slumber.

I didn't get my hug today. Guess it's one of those things a working mom has to sacrifice every once in awhile.

cute girl in a hard hat

Amara's school held a ceremonial groundbreaking to celebrate their new building.

The morning was chilly, following bouts of on-and-off rain for hours. Needless to say, I wasn't looking forward to trudging through muddy fields.

But the rain held off. And dozens of kids joined Teacher2Amara at the construction site.

First the kids were invited to put on a hard hat, take a shovel, and sweep up potting soil break ground.



They even managed to pose for pictures and release some balloons.



Between this, taking Aunt and Uncle2Amara to the airport to see the Mouse, Amara's dance class, and taking Bean to a friend's birthday party, I'm exhausted. I'm going to take a nap.

Want to know what's going on with Amara's new house? Follow the cute girl in the hard hat.

noun. verb. Amara.

At the end of every school day, Teachers2Amara encourage students to fill out their journals.

Last year, Amara's journal was filled with random pictures she had drawn.

This year, we have a notebook of sketches. But along side her creations were words describing her work.

Until last week.

Amara is now attempting to form simple sentences. And rather than asking for assistance from Teachers2Amara, she's sounding out all of her words, spelling them to the best of her ability.

This exercise makes me hope she'll be inspired to write more as she grows older.

Her creativity amazes me.

A sample of her work?

Once upon a time, Bele lic a Tootsie pop.

Princesses obviously like their candy.

I think back to my days of pre-phonics. Could I complete sentences at the age of four? Was I brave enough to take on Merriam Webster?

Of course I wasn't. I was an educational wimp. I went through school hoping I could retain just enough to give me a passing grade on the exam.

Not Amara.

Every mother believes their child is extraordinary. But I would go as far as asking for membership to this group.

I just bask in the fact that Teachers2Amara believe she's further ahead than the rest of the pack.

That's my girl.

how fast does that mom-mobile go?

I was sitting at work, trying to finish up some odds and ends, when it happened.

It's the call every parent dreads.

Dad2Amara was on the line. I could hear Amara in the background...wailing. Her right ear was throbbing.

Amara's never had an ear infection before.

And I've never heard her cry in pain the way she was.

So I raced to the urgent care in my mom-mobile. The 20 minute drive to my hometown felt like an eternity.

Or so I thought. I wasn't prepared to sit for an hour in an empty urgent care, waiting for a physician's assistant to see us. That felt like an eternity. Not to mention I was annoyed that the doctor couldn't even give us the courtesy of seeing Amara when no other patients were in the building.

But I digress.

After finally arriving back home, I started to pack.

Have I mentioned I'm headed for San Diego today?

Leave it to me to procrastinate. So I had to get all my clothes together. Then I wrote out my presentation outline (I'm on a panel at a conference). Yeah, I still don't have my video presentation done and my plane leaves in five hours.

I have tremendous guilt leaving town -- selling the house (by the way, have you checked out our house blog yet?), Amara being sick, work obligations, blah blah blah. There's just a lot going on.

But that makes me want to take the mom-mobile and go far, far away as fast as I can.

I'm burned out.

So how fast can my mom-mobile go?

Not fast enough.

I can't wait to hop a plan and head for sunny California!

rated K

This week, Amara prepared for her big screening.

We're not talking medical, silk, or movie screening.

Amara's rated K. For kindergarten.

It's so hard to think that five years ago this week, I was pregnant with Amara, still clueless as to just how much my life was going to change.

I came and gone as I pleased.

A quick dinner was just that. Eating take out was ok. I didn't have to worry about a toddler's proper development.

And buying myself a treat like a pair of shoes or a purse was no problem because I didn't have ballet class to pay for.

And now here Dad2Amara and I are...taking her to a new school for the fall.

Where does the time go?

Where were you five years ago?

Who's Amara?

In my ever crazed schedule, I missed Amara's parent-teacher conference this spring.

But Dad2Amara covered for me. ((slap)) Bad Mom2Amara.

Teachers2Amara spoke about Amara's generous nature. She apparently is a good friend.

She's such a kind friend that many parents went into their parent-teacher conferences asking, "Who's Amara?"

That's validation. Even if she's evil at home, at least we know Amara's popular.

But once Dad2Amara mentioned this conversation to me, I began to wonder.

Who is Amara?

Amara's strong. Beautiful. Hopeful. Loving. Giddy. Smart.

How about your child? Who are they?

just let me pinch you!

I have this horrible obsession.

I love pinching Amara.

They aren't the hurtful, scarring type of pinches.

But I do enjoying squeezing her cheeks. Or her no-longer-baby arms. Or her butt.

And now that she's a "big girl," Amara doesn't appreciate it as much as she used to.

Me? I still think it's a sign of affection.

So last night, after giving her a bath, I felt compelled to pinch her beautiful face.

Amara cried.

She begged me not to pinch her again. Amara said it "hurt [her] feelings."

My response?

Amara, it hurts my feelings when you don't listen and you disobey. So I'll make a deal. You start to listen to Mommy. Then I promise not to pinch you ever again.

Amara took her index finger and pressed it against her lip in contemplation.

She then gave me the terms of her agreement.

Mom, maybe you can just pinch me on Sundays!

Mom2Amara wins again!

Easter basket drama

It's 30-something degrees out.

Amara doesn't have a pink pair of tights for this weekend.

And the Easter bunny had a dang of a time filling her basket.

Ahhhh, the first day of spring.

I have never stressed out over Amara's Easter basket. But for some reason this year, I felt tremendous pressure to have the perfect gifts from the Easter bunny.

I knew Grandma2Amara would buy a ton of candy. Plus I didn't want all that stuff in my house. Because you know it wouldn't be Amara eating it all.

And I don't think the Easter bunny would conceivably hit Gymboree for a dress.

So what would I buy her?

And what would I buy Cousins2Amara, whose mom probably would rather me stay away from the spring treats too?

I scoured Target. I went up and down aisle by aisle, in search of anything that wasn't too kitschy. Because kitsch meant I would hate it by week's end. And I wanted something perhaps educational...but not too educational that the kids would hate me.

My head hurt just thinking about it.

And wouldn't you know it. I found books. And DVD's. And cars inside colorful eggs (obviously not for Amara). And notebooks. And colored pencils.

Once the Easter bunny delivers the goods, I'll have pictures for you.

But I just wanted to prove that it is possible -- you can buy things other than candy for your basket!

she's talked her way to another milestone

After another eventful day at work, I plopped down on the sofa - laptop in hand - to catch up on blogs.

And that's when the phone rang.

Dad2Amara picked it up. I assumed it was work. But he immediately handed it over to Amara.

Amara?

Yes, my four year old daughter has received her first social phone call at home.

It was a friend from school.

What preschoolers talk about over the phone is beyond me. I heard a lot of hi's, um's, and goodbye's.

And there was a lot of silence.

Guess they were just catching up on the latest school gossip.

what's that? up in the sky?

It's a bird.

It's a plane.

No, it's the sun!


And after a day like yesterday, I was tickled that the sun would come out. On my birthday! (Oh, and thanks Taawd for keeping good record of the storm!)

Waking up at the Wyndham by myself was sad. Working on my birthday was worse. But to see what mother nature left in my backyard still surprised the heck out of me.



I finally got home to Amara. And she was all smiles. We went out for a low key lunch. Then I crashed on the sofa. Without enjoying the sunlight. Damn.

Here's a picture of Amara from today. Just for good measure.

from the mouth of babes

As a mother, I have many aspirations for my daughter.

I dream that one day, she will be President.

Or a doctor.

Or maybe a even a rock star a la American Idol.

So imagine my surprise when we sat on the family room sofa, watching one of our favorite shows (Project Runway) and a commercial comes on for its limited edition sewing machines. I assumed my little diva wanted to be a fashion designer too. I mean, she was always playing with fabric, doing a little ditty down her homemade catwalk.

"Nope, Mommy," she replied. "I want to be a Princess.

I explained that even Princesses had responsibilities. I told her it was OK for a Princess to have a job.

And without hesitation, Amara responded, "Mom, a Princess' job is to dance with the Prince. That's what I'm going to do when I grow up!"

Ha! If only life were that simple!

it's snow wonderful

For a variety of reasons (tragic event, staffing, and because I'm a glutton for punishment), I found myself at work on a Saturday.

But leave it to Dad2Amara to make the most of his day with Amara.

We all know I'm not an outdoors girl. So frolicking in the snow is not my thing.

But it sure makes for a good dad-and-Amara day.



But because I missed all the fun, there was no one who could take pictures of the duo having a good ol' fashioned snowball fight.

Amara had a blast.

Dad2Amara? He's sore. Man, we're getting old...

say cheese

I have a new secret obsession.

I am addicted to the Shutter Sisters website.

I am no photographer. I just don't have an eye for it. But I enjoy grabbing shots of my favorite subject whenever I can.

Amara's just so darn cute.

So I live vicariously through the ladies at Shutter Sisters. They inspire me.

But just to show I can try to keep up with the best of them, here are some of my favorite picture of Amara.

what are you wearing under the covers?

Are you a flannel pant person?

Or do you like lacy unmentionables?

During our winters in the midwest, it's all about warmth for me.

So I have to wonder what Teachers2Amara were thinking when they scheduled pajama week for the middle of February.

Brrrrr.

Following the last theme week her school had, Amara has been counting down the days for pajama week.

I mean, what girl wouldn't want to show off her pink "silk" pj's with little brown puppies and purses all over them?

I wish I hadn't been swamped with work all week. I would have taken a picture.

She was so excited, she went to bed in her jammies before trudging off to school in them.

So what about you? What are you wearing under the covers?

open for business

Amara has had quite an active imagination lately. And she's very big on role playing.

One day, she can be a designer on Project Runway, choosing fabric a la Mood.

Other days she's playing mom to Leslie, her American Girl doll.

The next, she's opening a Wendy's franchise. In our basement.

Dad2Amara and I were watching TV when Amara asked us how to spell "open" and "closed."

We really didn't think anything of it.

But she then asked how to spell "Wendy's." This is what we found:


She began taking our orders at the counter, standing behind her little window with her pad of paper. Then she'd act as fry cook, making our dinners.

Amara really enjoys experiencing every aspect of life. And I want to give her all of it. In a pretty basket.

Even if that means she wants to try her hand at flipping burgers.

A note to all my family and friends -- in and out of the blogosphere -- that have left me kind messages on the blog, emailed me, or called. It has been a trying month. And just when I thought things were looking up, the rug was swept from under my feet.

I am blessed to have all of you in my life. There are too many of you to mention here. But you all know who you are. Salamat.

drowning in hearts

One of the things I'll truly miss being back to work is all the time I got to explore my crafty side.

Bet you didn't know I had one, did ya?

I've been known to scrapbook.

I knit a scarf.

And now, I've completed homemade Valentines for Amara's classmates.

Last week, our dining room table was filled with pink hearts, all cut and pasted with care.


And after painstakingly instructing Amara on how to assemble her cards (I didn't want to take the project away from her), this is what we came up with.


She's so excited to pass out her pencils to all her school friends.

And I'm thrilled that this year, I'm not the mom who is at the drug store the night before Valentine's Day, hoping to find a box of cards that don't have ninja turtles on them.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

owww...that hurts

I'm having a hard that deciding what hurts me more.

I am now at home after what seems like a very long day at work. In reality, I worked eight and half hours. That's less than my typical work day. Ouch.

And now I'm beat. I ache all over.

Ouch.

But compare that to what Amara said to me yesterday. I asked her to put away her socks that I just folded. They were so fresh out of the dryer they were warm.

Her response?

"Yes your majesty."

Hey little princess! Owww, that hurts.

who are the people in your neighborhood

Each week, Amara's preschool class has a theme. This week, they concentrated on community helpers.

They wrote thank you notes to our local law enforcement officers.

They learned about construction workers and nurses.

And they role played.

Would you trust this firefighter?



Or how about the tangled up dog walker?


By the way, that's Amara's dog Bruno. How she came up with the name Bruno, I haven't the slightest.

But my poor pet-adoring firefighter is not reading about community helpers today. She's home sick. Par for the course since I'm not yet cleared to return to work.

She has this nasty cold. I'll spare you the details of her boogers' consistency and color. Yes, it's that bad.

But it means we get to snuggle up on the sofa together...miserable.

How about you? Any weekend plans?