Will this be on the test?

DAUGHTER: [to Wawa Associate] Did you know that "wawa" is the indian word for "goose?" That's why there's a goose on the sign.

So Inappropriate I HAVE to...

DAUGHTER: Why do you have hair on your butt?

ME: I don't know. Everyone gets it when they grow up.

DAUGHTER: Will I have a hairy butt?

ME: Yes.

DAUGHTER: When I'm sixteen.

ME: Probably.

DAUGHTER: Why don't you shave your hairy butt?

ME: I don't know. [But I'm thinking to myself: "I used to have time to take care of that. But now I spend most of my 'free' time having these conversations with a four-year-old."]

I'm Pretty Sure I Only Have One Kid

DAUGHTER'S TEACHER: I didn't know Daughter has two brothers.

ME: She doesn't.

TEACHER: Really? She spent all day telling me all about them.

Holy S#@t!

Doggie Doodle woke me up at 12:51 this morning. I know the exact time because I checked the oven clock as I staggered to open the back door and let her out. This is our usual routine. She gets so worked up she paws my head to wake me up (sometimes a sloppy kiss works well, too). I never understand why it is so urgent for her to go out. This morning might provide a little insight as to why she is so excited to venture out into the dark yard.

So things seemed to be going as they normally do: Me- stumbling almost blindly through the house -and Doggie Doodle- running in circles around me until we get to the back door. Then things went terribly awry. I turned on the light, opened the door, and came face-to-face with:

about six INCHES away from me! Omigod, just looking at this picture now is giving me chills. Gross! They are so GROSS! RED EYES. POINTY SNOUT. SLIMY TAIL. Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh.

So what did I do, you ask? I screamed and tried to slam the door shut. Doggie Doodle, though, was not about to miss out on this. How her fat gut fit through the rapidly closing door, I do not know. I can only guess that the prospect of a late night Snack O'Possum gave her temporary wonder dog speed. What could I do then? I was not about to run into the possum-infested back yard to drag Doggie Doodle back to the house. I decided the best thing to do was go back to bed and let the dog fend for herself.

Not as easy as it sounds. When I got back into bed, my heart was racing. The evil possum face kept flashing in my mind and I couldn't get back to sleep. After fifteen minutes I decided I had to save the dog. I slowly approached the back door. Heart racing. Dry mouth. Palms sweating. Gradually I lifted my eyes to the window and looked out. The dog was running around the deck with her nose down. I opened the door and dragged her in. "Doogie Doodle," I said "Why would the possum run under the deck where you are? Didn't you go out into the yard to find it?!?!?!" I love her, but she missed something in the hunting gene area. She knows she's supposed to chase other animals, but doesn't know what she should do once she catches up to them.

At least I understand her desperation to go out every night. Kind of.

The moral of my story: Look before you open.

The Hits Just Keep on Coming

DAUGHTER: I didn't take a nap at school today because I didn't have my bink.

ME: You don't need it. You're too big for-

DAUGHTER: Boring!!! Wrong Answer!!!!

The Tooth Fairy just wasn't ready

So, Daughter has been a little preoccupied with the desire to lose a tooth or two. And that is why I didn't believe her when, a few weeks ago, she told me she had a lose tooth.

"You're only four!" I said.

Then she showed me that one of her bottom front teeth would move when she pushed it back and forth. Gross!

Being the skeptic that I am, I assumed she either bumped it or played with it so much it loosened. (Not sure if that's even possible, but she's only FOUR! She could not be losing teeth already.)

After weeks of hearing about this loose tooth I finally noticed something in her mouth while she was talking to me. I immediately stopped her (and it's not an easy feat to stop her from talking, you know) and held her mouth open so I could get a closer look.

There it was: an adult tooth popping out from the gum behind her (now I believed it) loose tooth!

The next day she had a scheduled dentist appointment (another root canal). When she went back to take her sedatives I told the dentist she had a loose tooth.

He goes, "Yeah, well, what is she six now?"

Here we go again...

"She's four."

"What?! Let me see! Oh yeah, look at that. Well, she's a little ahead."

Great to see the dental professional had a complex medical explanation for this.

While she was numb they actually pulled both bottom front teeth (apparently they were both loose).

The first thing I thought was: She better not lose either of those top front teeth anytime soon. I just paid $600 in June to have them fixed! Daughter's pretty sure it'll happen in a week or two.

Anyway, Daughter keeps telling me to stop making her show people her missing teeth. "It's embarassing!" Well, isn't that what mothers are for?

The Positive Self-Image of Hippos

This one was relayed to me by my mother.

DAUGHTER: I want a fat belly like you.

GRANDMOTHER: But I don't like my fat belly.

DAUGHTER: Well, hippos like their fat belly.

Now we're taking food orders over the phone?

I just got off the phone with my sister. During the majority of the conversation, my four-year-old was nearby yelling "Get me my french toast sticks!" I ignored her. But my sister asked me to put the little one on the phone.

SISTER: Hi!

DAUGHTER: Hi?

SISTER: Can you get me some french toast sticks?

DAUGHTER: What?

SISTER: Can you get me some french toast sticks?

DAUGHTER: Mom! It's for you!

One Week: 3 Interviews, 2 Busted Knees, 1 Doctor's Appointment

It's the final rush to get all the open positions filled and approved before the first day. Sometimes I just feel like a formality.

So last Wednesday I had a message from School A that sounded something like this: "Hello, this is Mr. B from High School A. I was wondering if you were still interested in the Algebra/Geometry position. If so, call me back at ###-#### ext 4112." It was too late when I got the message, so I called back the next day. I tried three times and heard "Extension 4112 is not defined" three times. With frustration looming, I dialed the main office. Here's how that went:

SECRETARY: High School A. May I help you?

ME: Yes, I'm returning a call from Mr. B.

SECRETARY: Mr. J?

ME: No, it definitely wasn't Mr. J. I thought he said Mr. B.

SECRETARY: There's no one here by that name.

ME: Ok, well it was about coming in for an interview for a math position.

SECRETARY: Well, then it was either Mr. McSomething or Mr. S. Let me check. Please hold... Hello? I'm going to connect you with Mr. McSomething. Hold again.

MR. McSOMETHING: This is Mr. McSomething.

ME: I'm returning a call about scheduling an interview for the Algebra & Geometry position.

MR. McSOMETHING: What's your name?

ME: Christina Wingate.

MR. McSOMETHING: Are you certified?

ME: Yes. [This is especially annoying because I now know he has no idea who I am since I did send a copy of my cert with my resume.]

MR. McSOMETHING: Ok. Hold on.....Hello? How 'bout Monday at 10:15?

ME: Sure. No problem.

MR. McSOMETHING: And you are certified?

ME: Yes.

MR McSOMETHING: For what?

ME: Mathematics.

MR McSOMETHING: Oh. Ok. See you Monday.

ME: Wait, am I coming to the high school or central admin?

MR McSOMETHING: High School. Main Office.


All weekend it bothered me that I couldn't remember the guys name and that he obviously hadn't seen my resume or anything. I went to the school's website and it was really out of date. The headline was "Click here to See pics from Graduation '08!" And no name listed as an administrator looked familiar to Mr. B or Mr. S or Mr. McSomething from the phone calls.

On Monday morning when my mom came to pick up Daughter, I asked her to call and ask who the Assistant Principal's were. The secretary asked if she was a parent (Mom lied and said "yes") and her name (she made one up) and was told there are no assistants. Bummer.

The directions I had lead me to a dead end from where I could see the school. So I did manage to find a way to get there. However, there were no parking spots near the door. I was still about a half hour early so I parked about a mile away (no doubt near the dead end my directions had led me to) and sat in my car listening to the radio. It occurred to my that there were probably security guards watching me on the cameras, laughing, "Look at the scared white lady who couldn't find a parking spot! Hahahahaha!"

Finally, it was time to enter the building. I stopped at the sign-in desk and was asked who I was there to see. "Mr. McSomething" was not an acceptable answer and I was told Personnel was located across the street at the Middle School. I told her I was specifically told to come to the High School. She shrugged and pointed to the Main Office.

In the main office I told the secretary my name and I was there for an interview for a math position. She said, "You can have a seat. I'll tell Mr. Magee you're here." MAGEE! I was way off with the McSomething. Well, at least I had the M right. I turned around to sit down and there was a whole slew of well dressed interviewees waiting. Oh great. In the next few minutes I realized some of them were there for interviews with Facilities. Phew! Eventually Mr. Magee showed up. He asked me if I had my resume. What a surprise that he didn't have the one I mailed in a month ago! He made a copy and brought it back to me, started to walk away, then asked me if I had a copy of my certificate. The other girl waiting started to get hers out and he said, "No, no, I have yours." I see who's more important to you, Mr. McSomething! A few minutes later a guy arrived for his interview for the math position. Then the secretary started asking us our names over and over again. The guy was getting visibly annoyed. Finally she decided to write them down and we only had to spell them three or four times till she got them right.

The other girl for the math position was finally taken into the conference room around 11. As soon as she disappeared Visibly Annoyed next to me asked "Was your appointment at 10:30?" I answered "No." He waited for me to tell him my appointment time, but I didn't. Maybe a subconscious way of getting him more annoyed and less likely to have a good interview? So he finally said, "What time was your appointment?" "10:15."

By the time I was taken in for my interview it was over an hour after I had arrived. As comical as my stay in the main office had been, I was not happy and had already decided I didn't really want this job. I was then told by the principal (whose name, by the way, is the same as a certain seemingly defunct hotel/diner chain of my childhood symbolized by a bright blue monolith-ish looking object on top--do you know how hard it was for me to keep a straight face?) that the "supervisors" (not assistants) at the table would be asking me a series of predetermined questions after which I would be "allotted time" to ask questions. I internally rolled my eyes. Predetermined questions are the worst. They all have 3-4 parts and by the time you finish answering the first you can't remember the other parts. I could see the sheets and instead of writing my answers they were rating my answers 1-5. So I was going to get a score. Perfect. I felt like leaning over and saying "All ones would be fine by me for this place."

Luckily, the questions were geared toward someone who had prior teaching experience. Unluckily, they wanted to know a lot about my "urban" teaching experiences. Uh, I don't have any! The interviewers purposely remained stoic and gave no indication of how they felt about me or my answers. When their questions were over, my only question was: Will I hear either way? Answer: Yes. Phew. Hope I didn't go over my "allotted time" for that one!

On my way out of the office I felt like saying, "I hope you get it!" to Visibly Annoyed guy still sitting in his chair. But I'm trying to use sarcasm less. (Hahaha! Get it? I'm being sarcastic about being sarcastic!)

On my way home I got a call from a charter school scheduling an interview for the next day and this morning I got a call to come in TODAY to interview for a part-time high school position. Way to wait till the last minute, guys!

I did want to tell you (my four followers) about those two interviews, but they went OK and really don't hold the same entertainment value as the one above. I also had an incident on a Pirate Ship with Daughter in which both my knees locked up and remained excruciatingly painful for the next 24 hours. The doctor (well, nurse practitioner, really-I'm not important enough to see a real doctor) said "Welcome to Your Thirties" before telling me I'm a little overweight (really? I hadn't noticed EVERY SECOND I'm awake). But my Zumba career's not over.

Phew! What a week!

Miss Spoken

ME: Do you want your juice in the box or in a cup?

DAUGHTER: In a cup.

ME: Any specific cup?

DAUGHTER: Yes, a pacific cup.

Vocabularious!

Daughter and I were talking about last names and first names. This is how the end of the conversation went:

Me: What's Papa Dan's real first name?

Daughter: I don't know, what?

Me: Papa DAN? It's Dan.

Daughter: What a coincidence!

T & A

[Remember, she's FOUR!]

T

DAUGHTER: When will I have big boobies like you?

ME: Later.

DAUGHTER: How old will I be? I'm really tired of my small boobies.

A

DAUGHTER: When will my butt jiggle when I walk?

ME: What? Why would you want your butt to jiggle?

DAUGHTER: Your butt jiggles when you walk!

Summer Reading

I have this compulsion to keep track of the books I've read. So I decided to keep track this summer on my blog. I'm not going to rate them or give any in-depth analysis or reviews. Just keep track. Since most of them are not very intellectually or culturally stimulating. As my readers (both of you), you are welcome to give your insights and opinions or ask for recommendations.

Here goes

U IS FOR UNDERTOW Grafton

WANTED Shepard

BAKING CAKES IN KIGALI Parkin

TWO FOR THE DOUGH Evanovich

THREE TO GET DEADLY Evanovich

MY HORIZONTAL LIFE Handler

THE ASSOCIATE Grisham

FOUR TO SCORE Evanovich

HIGH FIVE Evanovich

HEART & SOUL Binchy

ARE YOU THERE, VODKA? IT'S ME, CHELSEA Handler

HOT SIX Evanovich

THE MENTAL_FLOSS HISTORY OF THE WORLD Sass & Wiegand
SEVEN UP Evanovich

She's four. I know for sure. I'm her mother. I clearly remember when she was born.

The cashier at Babies R Us was very chatty with daughter. Then I guess she realized it was the middle of the day on a Thursday.

CASHIER: Why aren't you in school?

ME: Because she's only four.

CASHIER: Really? She's tall. Well, I guess you get to go in the fall?

ME: No. She won't be five until December. Kindergarten's still a year away.

This is the opposite of most of my childhood (and adulthood, too). Which went more like this:

ADULT: Are you in first or second grade now?

ME: Fifth.

This tall gene is a miracle.

Stinky Feet

Daughter and I are sitting on her bed reading books at bedtime.

DAUGHTER: Ew! What is that horrible smell!!! [covers my feet with blanket]

Ariel the Little Mermaid

This scene takes place in the neighbor's pool.

NEIGHBOR GIRL: Watch me do an aerial!

DAUGHTER: Now do a Sebastian!

Memories that will traumatize her for life.

Husband had to hold down the dog so I could pull a tick off of her. She was not happy with the restraint. She kicked and wiggled-trying to get up. When I got a good hold on the tick and started pulling, she let out a painful yelp. Daughter broke the tension by commenting, "That's what they had to do to me at the dentist!" She was absolutely correct-except we DID accomplish our goal with the dog.

She's really only 4-years-old

In one day my daughter managed to come up with two blog-worthy statements.

#1
"Don't tell your Zumba friend that I went to the Wiggles concert. It's embarassing!"

#2
"I don't DO hospitals."

Elephant Gas

In order to appreciate this story, you should probably be familiar with the cover of the book "The Gas We Pass: The Story of Farts" by Shinta Cho.





So here it is:

I walked into Daughter's room and she was on the bed on her back with her eyes closed and tongue sticking out. Something like this:

And she said, "I died because I smelled the back of the elephant."

This is a GOOD one I forgot

In the Magic Kingdom...

FOUR-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER: Look Mom! Elephant topiaries!

MOM: Yeah!...Wait, did you say "topiaries?"

DAUGHTER: Elephant topiaries!

MOM: How do you know what topiaries are?

DAUGHTER: Mae-mae and I buy them on FarmVille.

And you thought Social Networking couldn't be educational!
[By the way, Blogger spellcheck didn't like "topiaries" OR "FarmVille"]

Four-Year-Old at the Dentist

In the dentist's chair...

DAUGHTER: You can stop now!

DENTIST: I can stop as soon as we're finished.

DAUGHTER: Are you finished now?

Meanwhile, Mom & Hygienists try not to laugh.

Not at all vain

Here's what she said when she got up this morning:

"I can't wear this [Disney Princess nightgown] to dance. I'll be too pretty."

@#$%!

I'm begining to think being a bitch is good for my health. It certainly is helping my depression, too.

Seriously, who voted for this guy?

Gov. Christie's educational budget cuts are so drastic, I don't see how districts will deal without major staff cuts. RIFs all-around. Now I have very little hope of finding a job for next school year.

This is one for the "Use This To Embarass Her Later" file

DAUGHTER: My butt itches.

ME: Well, lets get some powder and then air it out.

DAUGHTER: It feels like ants.

ME: [Little dance action] Ants in your pants?

DAUGHTER: No, crabs.

ME: Crabs? In your pants.

DAUGHTER: They're biting me! Biting crabs!

The rest of your life IS all about SAT scores

My blog must be more popular than I thought! Look at the email I got:

I think it's sad that we haven't spoken in very many years and I am not sure what it is that I did to you, but to write a blog about me and hating me, my life and my accomplishments is just bizarre. That's just horrible and I am still left wondering, what is it I ever did to you? The answer: nothing.

I think it's just pathetic that you feel that I don't deserve the things I have accomplished when you don't even know what it is I have accomplished or how hard I have worked the past 10 years to get to where I am today.

You are right about a few things though...i have a great job, an amazing and good looking husband, an adorable daughter and a nice big house to call home, so yes, my life is good whether I deserve it or not.

Just to clear the record on a few things becuase if you are going to post things about me, then at least make sure they are true...

I was just as smart, if not smarter then you in high school, as I graduated with a 3.95 and a 1420 on my SAT's. I took every Honors and AP class offered except AP Biology. I guess you just thought I was dumb.

I went to Columbia, where did you go to school if you were so much smarter?

I have a JD and an MBA and graduated with honors on both degrees.

My new job as head of a global unit came because I have those 2 degrees, went to amazing schools and worked as a Risk manager prior to this job for one of the largest hotel operators worldwide.

I am a lawyer, as you obviously know, so if you don't take the blog down you will hear from my attorney, especially since it's in a public venue where people can read it and I am putting you on notice.

I hope that you find some peace in your obviously miserable life. As for whoever is feeding you the information about me, as we are not friends on facebook and never will be, so you can obviously see it somehow...tell them they are pathetic too.

See you at the 15 year reunion.

Yes! Can't wait to see you!

True Enough

ME: Can you tell Daddy dinner's ready?

DAUGHTER: No! You tell him!

ME: Me?!

DAUGHTER: Yeah, he's your wife!

New Ones for the Medical Dictionary

DAUGHTER: I need that pink medicine that will make my fever better.
ME: You have a fever?
DAUGHTER: Uh-huh.
ME: Let me feel your head.
(Hand to Child's head)
No fever.
DAUGHER: PLEASE, Mommy! I'm sick I need the [delicious] pink medicine.
ME: Oh, so you just want the medicine because you like the taste?
DAUGHTER: No, I'm really sick.
ME: What's wrong with you?
DAUGHTER: Child Boring Sickness.
(Sound of mother laughing uncontrollably. Then texting several friends.)

15 mins later....

DAUGHTER: Mommy, I told you I need the pink medicine.
ME: Right, and what was wrong again?
DAUGHTER: Sick Boring Fever.
ME: What happened to Child Boring Sickness?
DAUGHTER: It got worse.

Didn't anyone teach her bragging is not lady-like?

My dislike of someones recent updates from a certain social networking site is growing to unhealthy levels. Someone I went to high school with apparently wants to brag about her recent career accomplishments. It is making me SICK. Villa girls! AH! Here's what I mean:

Tuesday 9:11 am: Was announced in front of a few hundred people as the new head of Global Operations and almost crapped my pants bc the reality sunk in....let the fun begin!!!!!
Ok honey, if you're going to be the "head" of anything you shouldn't crap your pants. But I understand. My pre-schooler has a pants-crapping problem, too.

Tuesday 9:32 am: Now onto the fun part...golfing at the Ritz, then Epcot, then City Walk at night.
I'm sorry. I CANNOT stand it. WHY DON'T YOU GET OFF YOUR iPHONE AND DO YOUR NEW "JOB!?"

Tuesday 5:00 pm: Drinking martinis at the Ritz with the president and CEO...god, what a fabulous decision to come to this company!!!!!!
Of course it's a "fabulous decision" when you're sitting around getting drunk in Florida.

Tuesday 9:32 pm: today was the greatest day of my professional life where I stepped back and realized that everything happens for a reason and I could never have imagined this...thank you [Husband] for the support :-)
What POSSIBLE reason could there be for YOU becoming an executive and ME being unemployed? And you just had to mention your husband. "Look at me! I'm a big executive and I have a husband and I am truly successful and I wonder when Villa will call me about speaking at this years graduation!!!" Yeah, I may be sitting at home in the middle of the day on a Thursday with nothing better to do than blog about Villa girls, but at least don't write in run-on sentences.

So I googled the girl to see where she works. Had to join a certain carreer networking site to view her profile (and I am now a proud employee of Vandalay Industries). She is Head of Global Operations at a company described as "providing sophisticated risk management services." Notice: it's not just risk management it's sophisticated risk management. Is there non-sophisticated risk management? As I understand it, risk management isn't exactly a "simple" field. And by the way "risk management" is corporate insurance. Here's how it works: "Pay us millions of dollars to tell you how to waste a few more million dollars. But we'll make it look like we EARNED you millions more!"

Yeah, it's pretty obvious I'm just jealous here. I am. Just when I think I can deal with my life, the unfairness rears it's ugly head when all I wanted to do was play Bejeweled Blitz. This is what keeps running through my head: I know I am smarter than her. We had plenty of classes together in high school. I know I am smarter than her. So how come she's on a business trip celebrating her new executive position and I'm at home on snagajob.com applying to take surveys? Am I less ambitious than her? (Btw, we both went to the same certain University. Looks like it worked out for her. Whereas for me, it sent me into a downward spiral of career failure.) Do I lack something she has that I don't even know I don't have? Why can't I find a job? Why haven't I been happy at any real job I've had? I could rationalize that I was a teacher and was doing something meaningful and she isn't. But, I'm not a teacher anymore. I'm an unemployed lump with nowhere to go.

So, I think the best thing to do is delete her as a friend on the certain social networking site. Then at least she won't be reminding me of my failures and inadequacies. AND I will feel great joy in the millisecond it takes to hit that little "X."

Parenting Lessons from the Supermarket

Conversation I overheard yesterday at Shop Rite:

Mom: Stop it NOW! Or you will get NO SNACK!

Little Girl: GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!!!!

Lesson learned: Threat of "no snack" not an effective way of making child sit in the cart.