nicknames

Nicknames are funny things... Sometimes they're funny. Sometimes they're just mean - especially when they're unkind and even more so when they're unkind and accurate... But often nicknames are a way we bond with others.

For most people nicknames are casual, and full names are reserved for more formal occasions. (My mother never called me by a nickname when I was in trouble, for example.)

But for some reason the opposite is true of the interaction between my husband and me... I call my husband 'Scott Smith'. All the time. I only call him 'Scott' if I'm annoyed with him and being nasty - or if there are people around that it might sound strange to. (I'm aware that it's kind of an unusual practice, and I have one sister who is absolutely driven crazy by the fact that I use my husband's full name...) And he never calls me 'Emily' either. It's always 'Emily Lemole' - even though my name is technically "Emily Smith" now...

No idea why this is the case... but it works for us.

Inexplicably - or perhaps not inexplicably, but I'm not going to explain them - some of my nicknames are:

William
Willie
Em
Moo
Baby Moose
Geemoo
Emily Lemily
Emilicious
Eems
Emil Belinsky
Danky (or Dank)

Okay, I'll explain 'Danky'. When I was little I heard someone say "dammit!" so I tried to say it, too - but what came out instead was an emphatic, "Dank it!"

I have an uncle who thought it was so funny that he started calling me 'Dank'. It's what he calls me to this day, and I always feel a surge of affection when he says it...

heat wave

It's officially SUMMER in Los Angeles. Not the fall, no, the summer. We are experiencing what those weathermen/women fondly refer to as a "heat wave". I call it a heat tsunami. It is 115 degrees right now, it's 4:30 in the afternoon, and we still have more than a few hours left to endure this brutal sun.

I grew up in Georgia, but even with all that joyous August humidity I don't remember it ever feeling this way. When my girls got off their school bus today they literally fell out of the bus. I think we are all in heat shock.

P.s.

My last post made it sound like I'm remarkably patient all the time - and I do put a lot of effort into it, but the results vary.

On another sleepless night not too long long ago Jemma referred to me as a "furious monster" - and I can't say her description was entirely wrong...

a pain in the you-know-what

Last night Scott went out to watch the Jets game with a friend, and Jemma wasn't happy about it.

"What if I need someone and you don't hear me?" She asked me.
"Well, just call a little louder," I said. "Or come in and get me."

She shook her head. "But that would be a pain in the you-know-what!"

I'm not sure whether she meant a pain in the you-know-what for me or a pain in the you-know-what for her...

And I don't think she has any idea what you-know-what is standing in for - it's just an expression she's heard me use. The interesting thing is, I've never used it to her - or (to the best of my recollection) even when she was listening...

The fact is that children imitate what you do and say - which stinks if you happen to use foul language, and your kid starts cursing like a sailor in front of his teacher... But if you make an effort to behave in a particular way they copy that, too.

I always try to be as patient as I can be with Jemma.

The other night Jem couldn't sleep - and when she can't sleep she doesn't just lie in bed - she wakes me to let me know she's awake, and to see if I can help...

I know that everyone has different ideas about 'sleep hygiene' and most people think I'm crazy to get up at night with my daughter... But the bottom line for me is that it's not something she has control over. She's having a problem - she's not trying to be a pain in the you-know-what.

So that night she was waking up every few hours, and having difficulty getting back to sleep. The first couple of times were easy. But when it took from 1 to 3 for her to fall back to sleep, and then 5 o'clock rolled around and she woke up again I couldn't believe it. At that point I'd had a total of 3 hours of sleep, was groggy, and more than a little grumpy. As I stumped into her room, bleary-eyed and groaning, she said to me, "You seem frustrated, Mommy. Take a deep breath."

It was disconcerting and vaguely annoying to be given advice by someone who was recently a toddler - but it was amazing to me that she was aware that I was having difficulty helping her, and was trying to help me.

I took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry I can't sleep." She said.
"I am, too." I told her, and got into bed beside her.
I put my arm around her.

I do my best to help when she's struggling, and she does her best to help me, too... even when it's a pain in the you-know-what.

one of the guys

Community is an important part of the human experience, and most people would say that their communities play a significant role in their lives. I always thought I was an exception to this - having typically loitered on the outskirts of any community I've ever been a part of - but then my husband pointed out that my community just happens to be my family...

Jemma seems to have created her own community with a bunch of stuffed animals that she refers to as ' my guys'. They sleep on her bed with her, and - while they don't have the 'lovey' status of her bear, Cubile - are very important to her.

For awhile she'd bring the whole group into our room in the early mornings, to cuddle with us until it was time to get up. I don't know how she managed to carry them all - at one point there were 7 of them - but she'd show up will her arms full, climb into our bed and arrange them, giving one to me and one to Scott, and piling the rest together near her. For some reason she always gave me 'cuddley duck' and Scott always got the kitty-cat ballerina... I don't know why she thought Scott needed that particular 'guy' - but it never varied. Some mornings when Jemma didn't feel like getting into bed with us, she'd just bring in the ballerina and tuck it under her dad's arm while he slept...

She hasn't brought them into our room for quite some time now - but they still live at the bottom of her bed. Every once in awhile a new one will join them or one of the older ones will make its way back to the toy-chest...

Jemma seems to know we all need community... One day she brought me a present. She watched expectantly as I opened it (it was a stuffed animal of a Fennec fox) and said, "I got it for you because you didn't have a 'guy' - and now you have one."

self-esteem

When I was pregnant with my daughter, the one wish I had clearly formed in my mind was that she'd have a strong sense of self, and not experience all the insecurities that I had when I was younger. (I do realize that experiencing self-doubt is part of growing up - and part of being human - but some individuals are more confident than others, and I wanted her to be one of those...)

For the most part, I got my wish. While Jemma is a sensitive child, she seems to have a healthy self-image, as demonstrated by this exchange:

We were in a store and there was a little boy of about 4 sitting in his stroller. He was having a miserable time, fussing and crying, and when Jemma asked what was wrong his mother explained that he had just stopped taking naps, and was having trouble adjusting...

Jemma wanted try to cheer him up, but that didn't work out very well...

He scowled at her and said, "You're bad!"

This didn't seem to faze her. She simply responded, "I'm good."

But he insisted, "No you're not! You're not good."

Jemma just said, "I am good." Then she added, "I'm wonderful."

irresponsible advertising

I just saw Ellen's post on "love the way you lie" and I agree that what appears to be the message is upsetting...

My own personal rant, however, happens to be about movie posters - specifically horror ads. As a parent I find it dismaying that these disturbing (and often truly disgusting) images are put up in public spaces with no regulation whatsoever... regardless of the fact that children are seeing them.

If I had to choose for my four-year-old to pass by a billboard with an ad for alcohol or tobacco (the two most highly regulated industries) or an ad for a horror flick, I'd choose the former every time. The first two wouldn't even register for a kid that age - they don't really have a context for it. But you don't need a context to be terrorized by a demonic visage or to have the image of a mutilated, terrified, or tortured individual make an indelible impact.

The other day my daughter stopped in front of one of these posters and looked perplexed. "Is that an elephant?" She asked, trying to make sense of the image in front of her. The picture was of a girl who was broken - bent over backwards with her arms splayed out behind her in a stance so unnatural that the content of the image was initially unrecognizable. "Yep, an elephant," I said, and quickly guided her away before her eyes were able to see it as anything else.

If I object to what's playing in a movie theater I don't have to go, and if I don't like what's on the television or the radio I can change the station or just turn it off. I don't have these options with posters promoting films. It's infuriating, because other than locking my child indoors, I have no way of protecting her from them...

love the way you lie

Please correct me if I’m wrong. Seriously, please do.
I want to be wrong, but is the song “love the way you lie”
by Eminem and Rihanna about abuse and liking it?

a curse

I remember hearing more than a few times how beauty can be a curse but never completely understood why, that is, until last week.

Standing in line to get a food voucher last week was a 17 year old girl. With faded blue jeans and a t-shirt she made her way through the food line. She was thin with long wavy hair. I noticed her immediately because it’s pretty unusual to see someone her age in line. Usually it’s filled with middle-age men, and occasionally a woman, but not a young girl.

As she quietly approached the table her beauty struck me. Looking into her eyes I noticed a light that really was impossible to ignore. Her beauty is the kind that any teenage girl dreams of, just plain and simple beauty.

I smiled and for a second felt happy for her. Her shy smile was contagious, but my stomach began aching as it dawned on me. In most places her beauty would be a blessing, but for this girl it was a curse. Every predator would come after her and she probably stood defenseless against them. Such a sad thing, her beauty.

did i do it?

School is back in session. I always hate it when people say, “time flys”, but I can’t think of anything more descriptive to express this particular feeling.

Our last summer was pretty crazy. We were in the middle of moving, renovating and learning how to navigate through a divorce. Nothing felt settled. After a completely un-fulfilling summer, I vowed to slow this next one down and didn’t plan usual summer stuff…long trips and over-activity, just good old hanging around. I dreamed of hearing the words, “I’m bored” come from my girl’s mouths. I wasn’t sure how this particular picture would look by the end of the summer, but had high hopes.

Now with the official end of the summer here, looking around the house things definitely look different. Our dining table has become nail polish headquarters (I think we now have pretty much every color on the market available),Twister and Monopoly are no longer lost in the back of the game cabinet, and the grass in our yard has clear and defined dead spots from little feet running over it. Mud spots I should say. Mud has never looked so good.

It's weird sitting in our den watching my oldest daughter plow through her stack of homework. I can’t stop thinking about the no pressure moments from summer when our biggest worry was figuring out who would be the official spinner for Twister.

I’m thinking the real test will come in a few days when my girl's yearly school writing assignment, “what I did this summer” makes it's way home. I’m wondering if the words “I was bored” will appear. Oh I hope so.

the ring of truth

Once a long time ago I told Jemma that I have my engagement ring because Papa loves me, and my wedding ring because I love him back.

Today at lunch she was looking at my rings, and asked: "Does that mean that you guys will always remember that you love each other?"

And I think that often remembering is exactly what it's about.... the love is there between (all of) us - whether we happen to be experiencing it at a given moment or not. The tricky part is to remember it.

dead fish

Our fish died... Not the one that was sick - one of the other, perfectly healthy ones. The one that's been at death's door for the past 4 months is still (happily) lying at the bottom of the bowl.

Completely unrelated, but consistent with the climate of ill-health in our home at the moment: Jem and I both have especially hideous coughs. Scott seems to have been spared, since he's away on a business trip...

"No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present little instant."
-Fra Giovanni Giocondo

I know what it looks like...

But I haven't abandoned my blog... (Not entirely, anyway.)

I just haven't been able to do any posting recently - and, trust me, you should be glad I haven't. Recent contemplations have included which kindergarten program would best suit my child, and why the washing machine at the beach house where we spent Labor Day would have the settings: normal, casual, delicate, and hand wash. (Isn't 'delicate' for things that should be 'hand washed' - and how would 'normal' differ from 'casual', exactly? It was probably designed by the same guy who started calling a small coffee at Starbucks 'tall'...)

I'll do a 'real' post soon. (And by 'real' I mean something that may or may not be interesting to the reader, but at least won't put me to sleep at the keyboard while I'm writing it.)

P.s. This is not to imply that I've been too bored to write. In fact, it's partly to do with not having a ton of time to write, and -for the long weekend, at least - not having internet.

P.p.s. Ellen, you could help me out here. Haven't seen a post from you in awhile... :-)