KymPossible’s blog

Dreaming - 24"x30", hangs in my bedroom. not for sale.  This was Painting Experiment v2.0.

Dreaming

Hope - 24"x30", hangs in my bedroom. not for sale.  This is my fourth painting.

Hope

Hell - 24" square, hangs in my dining room but available for sale if someone really loves it enough to want to buy it.  This is #3.

Hell

I'll take pictures of Apprehension (24"x30", commissioned) and one I'm provisionally calling Dawn (16"x20") once they are dry, I just painted them last night.  It was my first time painting since getting frustrated on January 9th by a painting that I hated.  Guess what that one will be called when I finally finish it?

Making babies is fun.  If it isn't, you might be doin' it wrong.

Having babies is painful but brief, and hormones insure that you later develop amnesia for that bit.

How challenging being a parent is appears to be directly correlated to how good a parent you are trying to be.

Parenting

Since coming back from vacation I have been focused on being a better parent, and have been doing a good job of remaining calm in challenging situations with the kids.  Tonight I am emotionally exhausted though from a near one hour battle of wills with my almost 3 year old.  I didn't lose my cool despite getting frustrated.  I was trying to get him to use words to tell me what he wanted instead of pointing and grunting or crying.  He is non-verbal to the point that I am very worried about his speech development - he completed 8 weeks of speech therapy this winter, and despite the short term improvement I think he is going to have to go back. 

So here is what happened: Chris has a tantrum because his hands are dirty and he wants me to wipe them for him. He has a napkin. He isn't asking for help, he is just holding his hand out and holding the napkin towards me, and making non-verbal noise.  When I won't help him and tell him he can wipe his own hands with his napkin, he melts down and throws his napkin on the floor.  So I take his food and water before he throws those as well.  He calms down and starts pointing at them.  I say 'what do you want?  tell me what it is called. use your words' and a variety of other things to try to get him to verbalize.  This goes on for almost an hour.  He is crying and frustrated, and clearly STUBBORN.  I am feeling like a bad parent, starving my kid to make him speak when he is clearly communicating, just non-verbally.  Finally I give up and get up to put him in his jammies and he panics.  I ask him 'do you want this?' while pointing at the food.  He nods yes.  I say 'what is it called?' and he says 'bood'.  FINALLY.  So I hand him the bowl and this look of relief washes over his face.  He didn't understand what I wanted him to do. Now he asks for his agua and nap (napkin), which I give him, and he eats.  By this point the fact that he was using his hands to eat mashed potatos was out of scope for me to worry about.  One battle at a time.  For the rest of the evening he is an adorable happy little peach.

While sitting at the dinner table I am also having a conversation with Allyson.  This morning she snuck downstairs and stole about $2.50 worth of change from my change basket to put in her purse.  We have had this same sort of problem before with candy, granola bars, and taking toys that are going to be hers but I haven't given her yet off the counter and opening them/taking them upstairs to play with them.  In all cases she knows she has been bad because she tries to hide the evidence.  Each time, whatever she has stolen gets confiscated for a week or some sort of privilege is suspended.  Today she is heartbroken to have lost her new fancy beaded purse for a week.  We had a serious talk this morning about my being disappointed and if she is as sorry as she says she wouldn't keep doing this (she was hysterically crying and just repeating 'I'm sorry mommy', which makes me sound awful, but I didn't yell or raise my voice or anything, I swear).  At the dinner table tonight she brings it up and says she is sorry she stole from me and she will never do it again.  I said I hoped she didn't because it made me sad when she was naughty.  I told her that if I stole something just because I wanted it the police would come and put me in jail.

Allyson:  If I am a teenager and I steal, will I go to jail?

Me: yes, a special jail for kids. 

Allyson: and all I could do is read all day?

Me: you could read, but you would also have to work, and you wouldn't be able to play with or see your friends and you wouldn't get to see your family and I would miss you.  But you are a good girl and that is why I am trying to teach you to be good so you don't get in trouble like that.

Allyson: and Santa would be upset with me and not bring me gifts. 

uhhhh, yeah, Santa would be upset too.  It was at this point that she started getting a little sad and needed a hug, saying Santa knew she stole money from me that morning and probably wasn't going to bring her any gifts at Christmas.  Then she asked if the police were going to come for her.  I assured her that the police weren't coming and Santa was okay, because she and I were talking about it and she is sorry and learning from this and I'm not mad but trying to teach her that there are consequences for her behavior.

Parenting is hard.  I love my children so much it hurts.  And I only get one chance to raise them and be a good parent.  But knowing what the right thing to do sometimes is hard, especially when it comes to discipline.  I don't just mean 'you're in trouble' discipline, but being consistent about rules and expectations, and what is age appropriate.  There is a lot of worrying not just about their development but about whether I'm doin' it right.  I will inevitably make mistakes.  I just am trying to avoid making big ones.

*The chart above obviously doesn't take into account the child's temperment or special issues either.  Save your flame comments, it is an oversimplification for entertainment purposes.  Lighten up.

Tonight I made one of my rare occasional stops at MySpace (I had mail that a friend posted a comment).  While there I read the messages in my inbox, which are all from random unknown people.  Typically I never respond to these at all (I say typically because once I did reply to a guy who claimed to be my brother's friend, though honestly I'm not sure if he really was). 

I read three messages from complete strangers tonight.  All male.  They always are.

1.  hey, how are you?

2.  hi Kymberlee how are you tonight?

     My goooodness your cute!!

     Nice to meet ya.....:) -Lyle

3.  Hey brat, I shtat ur real hair or a wig? I can already tell we wouldn't get along, we're too similar, we both like to rock the fuck out in life and the earth would probably explode if we hung out because of all that energy in once place! I noticed you are a KICKASS go getter...that's so awesome! My ex girlfriend was one of those! If u happen to be a part time World Class Ass Model, you get 3 coolness points for that...get 15 and you get the special prize
Write back

Seriously, that is the order I read them in.  And after the third, I'm just kind of left thinking WTF.  Does that actually work EVER?  Do women actually write back to that?  And I have to conclude that some do, just like some people actually click on spam email.  The thought of it kind of gives me the heebie jeebies.  For $DEITY's sake ladies, have some standards!  Do you give your phone number to every construction worker who whistles at you too? 

I'm sorry, but I'm not that desparate.  Being alone is better than that.

I had a lot of people tell me I should get a tattoo while on vacation to remember this time in my life and this trip. I love body modifications and ink, but can't bring myself to do anything permanent to myself. So I thought some sort of piece of jewelry that means something to me would be a good alternative. Tonight I found it by chance at www.bicolasvegas.com.

The pendant's meaning: power, protection, authority, strength, & courage. Which doesn't match what is on the website for some reason. But I swear that is what it said on the display and marketing materials.

Happy birthday to me.

I need a better camera than the iPhone.  Because then I could show you photos of the people I saw today at the Luxor pool.  Sure, that's a creepy invasion of their privacy and it would upset me if someone sneakily took my picture by the pool and put it on the internet.  Let's ignore that for the moment since I DON'T have a camera and DIDN'T sneakily take pictures of people and therefore HAVEN'T put them on my blog. 

At Sasquatch Festival last year Stepto did a great blog post on the specialized types of people at an outdoor music festival.  It was hysterical.  I am quite sure my day today has that sort of potential, if only I were as witty and inspired as he.  Plus he had pictures!  So you'll have to bear with me.  I'm going to work my way through in the order I saw them. 

The Silverback.  In gorillas, an old male will go silver-gray on his back (thus the name, duh).  The human variation takes into account the typical evolutionary hair placement patterns on humanoid males which favor the chest over the back.  The creature I saw poolside appeared healthy, in his 50th decade, exhibitng dark hair on the head, chest and legs, with the exception of a triangular patch on his chest spanning the collarbones and tapering to the solar plexus which was silver-gray.  He appeared to be a fairly young silverback traveling with just one mate.

The Perpetual Sweater.  I don't mean someone who sweats a lot.  I mean someone who really needs to make friends with an esthetician who specializes in waxing or laser hair removal.  This man was so unpleasantly hairy he is in my top 5 all time worst body hair list.  If he were non-humanoid his hair would still be awful - too much for a human, not enough for any other mammal.  The quantity of his body hair would be a huge turn off for many women, yet he had one with him.  He must compensate somehow.  I ceased my field research immediately.  Some things I just don't want to know about.  Like backstage Disney.  It is better just to leave a little mystery.

Sun Worshippers.  Unlike their distant relative the Sun God or Sun Goddess, these individuals have taken their tanning too far.  Their skin is the color of crispy bacon, but with none of the firmness.  You can see the resiliancy of their skin breaking down under the onslaught of solar radiation.  They don't look healthy, they look tight and saggy all at once, a dark brownish orange with sun spots and wrinkles...  so sad.  In their quest for MORE SUN they often wear swimsuits that are WAY TOO SMALL for their bodies which are rarely in peak physical condition.  Which is sad for everyone else. 

Sun Gods and Sun Goddesses.  These individuals have mastered the right amount of tan.  They look healthy both in physical fitness and skin color.  They are the beautiful people everyone wants to watch at the pool, and I got to watch a fair number of them today.  Sadly, I will never be one of these people because I am one of...

The Cave Dwellers. To be fair, not all people with milk white skin that reflects the sun like a hanes tshirt live in caves.  Some of them simply live in sun-deprived locations like Alaska, Minnesota, or Washington.  Some even live in Arizona, but have European genetics working against them.  These people go out in the sun with their SPF 50 and turn bright red in 2 hours.  Sometimes their burn will develop in entertaining patterns depending on the direction they laid in relation to the sun in the sky.  As they try to get a 'base tan' they just get redder.  Later they will peel and freckle.  They will be left with annoying tan lines that will only show they got sun when they are naked; without the contrast of their natural alabaster state to show they were in the sun you would never know.

Pool Toys.  Not all eye candy at the pool is a Sun God/Goddess.  There are good looking people who haven't acquired the perfect tan yet.  Like the girl I met in the pool today.  Her swimsuit was so cute I went to ask where she got it.  She seemed embarrassed to admit it was from a Hustler store.  When I didn't seem shocked by that and continued talking to her, she shared that she is a go-go dancer.  She is actually the nicest and most interesting person I've met so far on this trip.

The...  I don't know what this is.  The woman in her late 30's/early 40's two chairs away with her two kids took off her shirt to wear a beige strapless bra and shorts.  Uh, that's just kind of weird.   

Sharks.  These packs of hunters come in male and female pods, typically of Pool Toys, and cruise the pool looking for other Pool Toys or Sun Gods/Goddesses to assimilate.  Unfortunately while their numbers give them confidence, it also makes them intimidating when approaching smaller groups.  The ideal situation is when Shark Pods of similar numbers intermingle.

ok, enough blogging for now, maybe I'll write more later about some of the other people I saw or things I did today, but I reallly have to get some aloe on my sunburn before the itching drives me insane.  :(

This is kind of a big deal.  I haven't been on a vacation by myself ever.  But earlier this year I decided that the fact that I'm not in a relationship and have no one to go on vacation with would not mean that I miss out on vacations.  F#ck that.  There is a great big world out there to experience, and I'm not going to wait until *someday* to do it with another person. I am seriously sunshine deprived in Seattle, and this week is my birthday.  I'm 29 again in case you were wondering.  And my life has been really stressful for the last few months.  So I decided to get away and spend my birthday somewhere warm that I could sit in a chaise by the pool or ocean and read a book.  I thought (and still think) that getting away is going to be good for me, help me refocus and get my head straight, and get back in touch with who I am at my core and what is important to me.  I'd love to go to Italy, but even if that were in budget, I thought it was a bad idea to go international on my first solo vacation (this is the same rationale that excluded Mexico from consideration).  So this week I am in Las Vegas, for the first time outside of attending the Black Hat conference every summer.  I considered going to Hawaii, but could stay here longer for the same budget.  :)

Vacationing alone is kind of weird.  There are lots of things that would be way more fun to do with someone, and I find myself turning to Facebook status updates to feel like I'm sharing my vacation with people (I haven't decided how I feel about this Facebook reliance yet).  Getting a table for 1 at restaurants appears to be impossible, I keep getting seated at the bar.  Asking a stranger to put sunscreen on my back is WAY outside my comfort zone.  And getting pictures to remember the vacation requires the help of strangers (I'm trying to get at least one photo of myself each day).  But on the up side, I can do whatever I want, whenever I want.  I spent 2.5 hours this morning at the spa getting a massage and facial, bought a new swimsuit (my suits from last year are all too big), lunched on snack bar food in my room, then went to the pool for a couple hours.  After the pool I did some shopping with no one to get impatient at how long it took me to try on dresses or pick shoes.  Speaking of which, aren't they fabulous?

Iphone 4-20-09 068

5 comments

They are my second most expensive shoes ever, after my Asics.

Then I came back to my hotel, showered, and based on the premise that feeling good and looking good go hand in hand, I got dressed up and went to dinner.  The Cathouse, I will have you know, has nothing to do with felines.  And yes, I was surprised by this for about 30 seconds before I figured it out.  These are the bartenders who kept the diet coke flowing and served up a great beet/goat cheese/almond salad and calamari.  I have never eaten so much calamari and still looked like I had a full untouched plate of calamari still.

Cathouse bartenders

I know, iPhone photos in low light aren't great, and the candelabras behind them aren't helping.  But it's what I've got to work with here.  

Cathouse me

The hostess, who took the picture above, has the same birthday as me.  Everyone asks if you are in town for business/what you are in town for.  I have gotten better at the 'it's my birthday this week and I missed the sun' line without feeling like I have to explain why I'm on vacation alone.  To be clear, no one expected an explanation, this is all my own issues making a trivial polite question more difficult than it needs to be.  So I'm glad I got past that nonsense.  Reality is that polite questions don't actually require honest answers, just polite ones. 

Tomorrow I plan on spending more time at the pool, working on my sunburn and reading.  Then I am going to karaoke here in my hotel bar at 9pm.  That is my entire master plan for the day.  I feel kind of like a retiree, scheduling my social activities for the week.  Wednesday is another pool day, probably some more shopping (Caesar's Palace Forum Shops are SO much nicer than the shops here at the Luxor, I went to CP today for the pool and shopping, and plan on going back Wednesday), and I'm going to try to go to a show, I'm thinking O at the Bellagio.  Thursday is my final pool day (assuming my skin hasn't full on revolted against the solar abuse I have given it) and then I think I am going to take myself out for a nice dinner.  No, I'm not going clubbing while I'm here, no matter how much I love to dance, doing that alone sounds terrifying.  No, I don't gamble.  And I'm not drinking at all.  But I think I might just have a good time on vacation anyway. 

I've discovered a peculiar thing.  Twitter* makes me feel more lonely than I do otherwise.  I don't have 204 friends.  So here are all these people I only peripherally know, with status updates about what they are doing, where they are going, who they are seeing, twitter conversations between people I don't know...  Sure, I wouldn't have heard about the incredibly awesome tweenbots experiment if I weren't following a total stranger friend-of-a-friend.  But that isn't enough.

So once again I say 'it's not you, it's me' and further throttle my Twitterverse participation.  Anyone is welcome to follow me still, and I'll check my replies and respond, but I have to trim my follow list.  Please don't take it personally.

*Facebook also has this effect on me, though to a lesser degree for some reason.  I haven't decided yet if I'm going to trim my friend list there too.

It seems to me that maybe

pretty much always means no

game rules here.

I love playing Rock Band, but don't really play much at home, it just feels lame to be singing to myself.  Oh let's face it, it IS lame to sit alone in your living room singing to your TV.  I finished the world tour on Rock Band 1 with guitar (on easy) by myself and it was fun, but singing is different to me for some reason.  I guess it feels sort of like talking to oneself (y'know, like crazy people do).  Yes, I sing in the car or in the office or while cleaning the house...  but that is also different because I'm doing $SOMETHING and singing along with music is secondary to keep my mood up/help time pass/whatever.  I'm not JUST singing alone and by myself as a primary activity.

So tonight after a great night with the kids, I was trying to figure out what to do with my evening.  I didn't feel like working, and didn't want to spend the night wasting time on the laptop. (I'm kind of proud of myself for not even logging into IM and risking getting sucked into chatting).  I could have read or knit, but I am kind of embarrassed as I am typing this to realize I didn't even think of those options.  I only thought of 'clean the house or XBox'.  Well that's an easy one.  XBox. 

Partly inspired from playing RB with a bunch of friends last Friday night, partly inspired by a great sunny day that was generally really upbeat, I fired up Rock Band 2 for a bit of self-serenading and tried to not feel too silly.  My band, Hobophobic, started in Seattle of course.  I played for a couple hours, and unlocked a bunch of achievements.  But what I thought was coolest was that I earned my first ever gold stars for songs sung on expert.  And then I earned four more by the end of the night.  First, Maps. Then Dani California, Last Train to Clarksville (which I also got the Flawless Singer achievement on), My Sharona, and Hungry Like the Wolf.  Clearly I do better at RB1 songs than RB2, probably because I'm far more familiar with singing them.  Imagine that, practice really does help!  Anyway, it was fun, though not nearly as fun as playing with friends.  But still better than doing laundry.