Operation: Big Girl Bedtime

Tonight was the first night of Big Girl Bedtime. It is a completely fabricated event that A and I created out of desperation. We plotted against her last night and introduced her to the idea this morning.
-E, today is a big day. Do you know what today is?
-Yeah! (questioning look)
-Today is the beginning of Big Girl Bedtime!
-Yeah! Big Girl Bedtime!
She was all over it. We took a trip to Wal-Mart after school today buy a "big girl" timer. We spent the whole evening psyching her up for the new Big Girl Bedtime routine. (For those of you wondering, this involves reading books in bed for 10 min. then cuddling for 5 minutes, then leaving) She was all excited about it until the 10 min. of story time was up. Then the screaming started. We have decided that we must just let her yell. We realized that we were letting her stall. I had to take her back to bed 5 times and she screamed (and I mean SCREAMED) for 15 min. but she eventually put herself back in the bed and calmed down. Hopefully it will only take a few nights like this for Operation Big Girl Bedtime to take complete effect and end the major bedtime battles. Now if we could just figure out how to get her to nap...

Civil Unrest

The bedtime battlefield is tense. We are involved in a standoff and neither side is budging. E's heels are figuratively dug in (and literally: she keeps balking like a Grand Canyon donkey every time we try to walk her to the bed). A and I are constantly strategizing into the wee hours of the morning (mostly because sometimes it takes the girl more than an hour to stop shrieking and submit to sleep). We have already tried the following battle tactics:
-cry it out (goes without saying that our girl's got lungs that won't quit)
-lying with her until she falls asleep (when I was having to set an alarm to wake myself or A up to move to our bed, we gave up on that one)
-story reading (we don't have enough books to keep up with her)
-bedtime massage (NO LOTION MAMA!!)
-begging & pleading (E is impervious to our tears)
Needless to say, surrender is imminent. A is currently threading the white T-shirt onto the broom handle. It seems that the enemy has a secret weapon, code named: Terrible Twos! I have heard from a reliable source that the age of three is sometimes worse (dear God, how?!) than two. If anyone on the Parental side of the conflict has insider information or other "last stand" battle tactics - for the love of God, hand them over! Our forces are losing hope.

prospective buyer = amateur extortionists

Why do people try to take advantage of you just because they can? Apparently when you are trying to sell your house the term "seller" in the contracts must have extremely fine print that states that "said owners of house in question will serve as 'whipping boy' for the duration of all negotiations between parties". I'm starting to think that maybe this offer was too good to be true. According to our realtor, either we cough up for what they want or they walk away and we look like the jerks who wouldn't cooperate. Basically they want money and since we won't just fork it over, they've trumped up a list of things we "won't fix" - which again, in the hidden real estate water-mark means "we're not willing to bend over and take it". If anyone else would like to demand large sums of money in exchange for nothing legitimate, the line is forming on our front lawn.

One theory...

I contend that being a jr. high teacher 25 days before the end of the year = trial run in hell to determine whether or not you could hack it for eternity. That's all.

"Oh heavy lightness..."

So, I haven’t posted in several days. Things have been in a weird state of perpetual suspension here. I feel like I’ve lived a month in the past 4 days. Strangely, it’s only Wednesday but I feel older - tired somehow from a race I wasn't aware I am running. The days stretched longer and longer in my mind due to the looming numbers on the calendar and, Isabelle’s birthday was upon us. How does one celebrate what is supposed to be such a happy event in the midst of overwhelming sorrow? There was no big announcement or any “memorial” event. Simply, A and I went to the church and prayed. We left some flowers in the same spot where we left our baby girl last year. It's a strange feeling, having a child die. As Shakespeare put it, "Oh heavy lightness, serious vanity. Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms." - it is a balance of feeling: paralyzing sorrow that my daughter is not with me, paired with the unbelievable joy that she's with God and our family. The hole in my heart isn’t closing. Somtimes it's huge and engulfing, other times it's a pinprick. I'm getting better at protecting it from bursting open. “Time heals all wounds” they say. (Who are “they” anyway? And why do “they” seem to know everything? Personally, I think “they” are full of it.) I don’t think that adage is true. I think I’ve just learned, with time, which remembering will cause crippling pain and which is bearable. So, risking a tidal wave of grief in my already holey heart, I say – Happy Birthday, Izzie. We miss you.

Tag, I'm it...or you're it...or whatever

Okay, I’m an official blogger now because I’ve been "tagged" (Thanks Jess). I'm also borrowing Jess's friend, Jenn's shpiel for this post. Jenn is another friend of Jessica's who blogs because we all MUST STRIVE TO BE JESS on every other Thursday. Here's how this works. I’m supposed to go to imbd.com then click on IMDB TV (for those not so internet-savvy, that stands for Internet Movie Database), look up 10 of my favorite shows, then list 3 of their plot keywords, then you people have to figure out what shows they are. I’m going to put my own twist on this one though… these are not necessarily my FAVORITE shows, but they are the things that I’m DVRing (and trying to watch). It would be too difficult to pick my favorite shows from all time. I've been watching TV a while now and how could you choose between Quantum Leap and the A-Team? Good luck!
1. author/hometown/book
2. medical/interracial romance/seattle washington
3. mystery/forensic/las vegas
4. awkward/employer.employee relationship/mockumentary
5.husband.wife relationship/utah/polygamy
6. irony/science/cane
7.ex cop/pathologist/US navy
8.scientific experiment/beach/fate
9.drama/history/divorce
10.comedian/chat/nonfiction
Happy hunting! If I am a true blogger, I must now tag someone else. I choose....Scott and Jay. Bedtime.

Ahhh...electronic bureaucracy

Happy Birthday little brother!
Is it unreasonable of me to think that the odd jobs (and those of you that know about my work with 1-800-Wal-Mart understand just how ODD those jobs could be) I had during college have absolutely NO bearing on whether or not I should be hired to teach in Florida? I'm pretty sure that delivering Bloomin' Onions to overweight patrons or reassuring Granny too-much-time-on-her-hands that it is perfectly natural that the fish department in Wal-Mart has a funny smell shouldn't matter to a hiring principal. However, now that I think about it, both jobs may have prepared me for junior high students in ways I couldn't have imagined. And I mean every second. Thanks to computers being too smart sometimes, if I so much as neglected 2 weeks in the timeline, I was "redirected" to the top of the form to start over and try again to pinpoint my employment whereabouts circa Feb. of 1998. Oi! Suffice it to say that Florida is now aware of how I spent every second of my money-making time in the past 10 years whether it was educationally related or not. Sheesh.

BA meetings? NEVER!

Hi. My name is Reagan and I'm a bookaholic.
I'm obsessed with books; in particular, Harry Potter and Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series. I am constantly wanting to read, talk about and buy these books. It is immaterial to me that I already own these books.
Actually, if I am to be completely honest with myself, it doesn't just stop there. I fantasize about buying books the way most women pine after jewelry, shoes, or the pool-boy. I hide book purchases from Andy the way some women try to keep that new pair of shoes from their husbands. I collect bookstore giftcards like a kid hoarding his birthday money. I scope out good book-buying locations the way alcoholics memorize all the locations of local liquor stores.
For some women a perfect afternoon would involve shopping and (`` - Emma's contribution to this blog post) eating at a restaraunt with a friend. My dream day includes sleeping past 6:30 (sorry E), eating (insert just about any food substance here), heading to the local book store and cozying up with some coffee and a stack of books taller than my child. The next several hours would involve reading parts of all books in my pile as well as re-reading sections of old favorites. Perhaps MK would come along with me although while in the bookstore, there would be no talking except to comment on whichever book we happen to be perusing at that precise moment.
So, if the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, I will never recover. This obsession of mine is NOT a problem, I say. It is a hobby and it is an obsession. I have no excuse except to say that I love to read.

Emma update

So, this afternoon Emma informed Andy and I that she wanted to move to Florida, NOW! This was after breakfast this morning when she had slapped her jean purse (compliments of Aunt Leanne) over the shoulder of her footed pajamas, walked to the door to the garage, and shot us this phrase, "By hon, I'm going to school. See you later!" Quite a funny thing for a 2+ year old to say, considering the fact that she screams bloody-murder whenever we leave her alone too soon at bedtime.

Her new favorite phrase is, "I don't know". For anyone who has see Bill Cosby's stand-up comedy, this is a phrase that will strike fear and surge anger through any parent's veins. Today we asked her, "What do you want for breakfast?" Her response? "I don't know." Then we asked, "Why did you take off your pants and pull-up? (right as we're trying to leave so they can show the house)?" Her response..."I don't know." We asked, "Want to go outside and play?" E's answer, "I don't know." Question: "Why are you flailing your arms and screaming after I just handed you M&Ms?" You guessed it, "I don't know." As you can see...infuriatingly simple.

As a 30 lb. psychological mastermind, Emma is diabolically cunning. I believe it is a requirement for making it to age 3 that you are able to bring an adult to tears with such tactics as:

• the sock and shoe removal before any impending car trip
• the "one more kiss" routine at any impending sleep situation
• the lap-around-the-car routine any time we're running late
• the insistence on "one more minute" at the end of a movie

These are just a few of the seemingly innocent things of which Emma is capable. Oh yes, don't let her fool you, she looks like an angel. From what I've heard, she acts like an angel for everyone else too. I guess the reassuring part is that - she's normal! All of my friends swear that they're little ones act(ed) the same way at 3.

However, she is smart and perfect and beautiful. This morning she told me, completely unprompted, "I love you, Mama. You're my Mama." That's the kind of thing that softens the edges of the little dictator's steel-toed boots.

Really...it's over already?

So, after 3 grueling, arduous days of having the house on the market, we have sold our house. No, that's not a typo - 3 days. If everything goes well with the inspection and financing, our house is sold. CRAZY!

One million and a half thank-yous to Jessica for all the patience with my phone calls, questions and basic home-owner/seller paranoia that I have wreaked upon her over the past 2 weeks. Not only is she a great friend and incredibly patient, but she is also a fellow-strongly-worded-letter writer. Keep her in your thoughts and prayers as she and Ken are still waiting on word about when they can go pick up their son, Beckett.

We really feel like this is another sign that we are supposed to go to Florida. Somehow, it's still not real to me. We moved a lot when I was younger so I should be used to this. It's just foreign to me to think about packing up, driving somewhere and never coming home. Fayetteville has been home for me and Andy for more than 10 years. We're going to miss it a lot but we know that God has good plans for our family and we're excited to see what is in store for us in Florida. Here's hoping no major appliance explodes between now and June!

just when you think you're a bad parent...

Andy and I were just watching the news here in Fayetteville on Channel 7 and we saw something that I hope to never see again. I also wish that none of you will have to experience it.
The news station played a snippet of video of a father helping his daughter pull a loose tooth. HOWEVER this man needs to be sent a strongly worded letter! Are you ready?
He tied his daughter's tooth to, not a doorknob, but - wait for it - A BOW AND ARROW! He then shot said tethered-tooth ACROSS THE ROOM while someone else videotaped it standing in front of them!
This raises 2 questions for me:
#1 Who thinks "My daughter is scared to pull her tooth. I will help her by bringing a deadly weapon into the room, attaching it to part of her body and shooting said weapon"?
#2 Who thinks "This is a great idea! While my friend ties his kid to a bow and arrow, I'll get a video camera, stand in front of him and tape the entire thing. Fabulous!"
Who are these people? and WHY would you ever think this is a good idea? I will think twice about berating myself for giving Emma a time-out when she throws her toys because at least I'm not attaching her body parts to weaponry.

Electronic Nightmare

We have entered Phase 2 of the Mauk Family electronic nightmare. In order to understand the full extent of our exasperation, you will all have to travel back in time with me to pre-Phase and Phase 1 of this electronic adventure.
(insert squiggly lines and dream sequence musak here)
Pre-phase: About 2 weeks ago, we noticed that our DVD player, the one Andy has owned since before we were married, was skipping a lot. At first we attributed this to our 2 year old handling the DVDs herself. However, when the newest movie (Happy Feet, in case you were wondering, which E pronounces "Happy Seet" - we're still working on F's) began to skip and we knew it wasn't scratched, we figured it was our DVD player. We tried multiple disks and they all skipped badly, whether they were scratched or not. So, we bought a new DVD player.
Phase 1: Yesterday evening, after supper we were watching the end of one of E's movies and the stereo system just popped (and I mean popped like we thought we were being shot at) and quit working. I thought Andy was going to cry. He is quite attached to surround-sound.
Phase 2: Tonight, Andy tried to hook the DVD sound up to the TV. He got it all hooked up correctly but when he put in the movie, the feedback on the TV was so irritating you can barely hear the sound on the movie because of the buzzing.
Currently: Andy is on the phone with Sony. They are telling Andy to do all the things he's already tried. He's rolling his eyes and mocking the woman on the phone as she fumbles through the written trouble-shooting instructions. He's mentioning that maybe (can you see the hope and twinkle in his eye?) it's the TV and we need to get a new one. (Matt and Scott, keep your comments to yourselves)
So, if Andy resists the urge to bomb Sony's local headquarters and if nothing else breaks, I think we'll have to figure out which option is the best road to Electronic Equilibrium.

Pant Rant & Post-Easter Purge

This title applies in two ways. I've eaten so much over this weekend, that I wish I could purge up the calories. (Damn the jar of M&M's at the shower, right Leanne?) Also, it's been so long since I've been able to post that I have a lot to say.

Pant Rant: What the heck is wrong with America's Children's retailers? All I wanted was a plain pair of khaki capris and a pair of denim capris. Is that so difficult? APPARENTLY IT IS. All of the denim I've seen has some type of embroidery or lacing. I don't want butterflies or flowers or shooting stars emblaizoned across my 2 year old's rear. Neither do I want to pay $40+ for a plain pair of pants that will be demolished by the dirt-pit that is E's daycare playground. (No, Mom, I haven't been to Kohl's!) Not to mention that toddlers are not preteens. There is no reason to have phrases like "tasty" or "more naughty than nice" logo-ed on T-shirts. They're growing up too fast as it is, why start the trashiness before the ripe old age of 5?

Also, why is it that when one decides to move, the move and not personal intrinsic motivation, is what motivates us to change/improve/clean our own homes they way they should be to begin with? My house looks fabulous - and we're not even completely finished preparing for having the house shown. Of course, something must break when you are preparing for a move. This afternoon, our stereo system made a loud popping noise and now it will not work at all, no matter what we're trying to do: radio, movie, CD. Brilliant. I guess we can go ahead and pack it up. By the time we get it fixed, it will be time to move. Keep your fingers crossed that that's the last major item that breaks on us.

We're moving along down the move-to-another-state path. The house goes on the market next week and I'm slowly but surely getting my resume finished and ready to send out. I told Emma we were moving today and she said. "OK, Mama. I will take a trip with you and Daddy." I guess that's as close as we're gonna get. Good luck to all of us.

Lie, Cheat and Steal!

OK, so the first two don't count but I'm definitely stealing my friend Jess's idea by creating a blog. I was (am - she' not dead!) so impressed with her blog about her and Ken's adventure in adopting their son, Beckett. She has inspired me to create a blog of my own so that family and friends can keep up with us Mauks during our new adventure! {Sorry, Jess, you were always the one with the great ideas anyway. Remember Memphis?! Or was that my idea? It went - not badly, just not as expected - so it could have been my idea.} But I digress...

In case you haven't already heard, we (Andy, Emma, the cats and I) are on our way to Sunny Florida! Andy has finally taken the leap and is headed back to school (yes, again!) for his PhD. He will be attending Florida State in the fall. As he is the perpetual student, this is the perfect next step in his life/career. I have, however, told him repeatedly and in no uncertain terms that THIS IS IT! No more school for him after this. He can sit in a library cubicle and research until he rots but we're done studying/paying/writing for degrees after this. I will not tolerate a double major or second doctorate.

Even though I am deadly serious about this being Andy's last trip into academia as a student, I am thrilled that he's doing this. He's been talking about it since he finished his Master's and I am so excited to see one of his dreams becoming a reachable goal.

In the coming months we will be selling our house, packing up all our belongings (as well as chucking out some things - boxes of old Sports Illustrateds anyone?), finding a new house, finding me a job (public school vs. private/ testing nightmare vs. snot-nosed elitists - what a choice - sheesh!), and becoming Floridians. Floridians...sounds like an exotic disease doesn't it? "It's a shame, really, to have contracted Floridians during the prime of her life" tsk tsk. To me, Florida just sounds incredibly hot as summer is approaching and we are currently 10+ degrees above normal here in F'ville much less 14+ hours southeast. But, I'm trying to be positive. We will be much closer to one of our favorite places in the world, Destin. We will also be closer to some dear friends, Dave and Emily Ward and their precious girl, Ella. Tallahassee is on the way to multiple gorgeous golfing destinations (Dad, Dennis!) and much closer to that Land of Childhood Glee and Parental Torture otherwise known as the Disney World complex. Whatever happens, we feel like God is leading us to Florida and will protect and provide for us on our way. So, check back in with us here to find out about all the developments in our Great Trek South. Pardon any ramblings or typos as I am continuing to contribute to my already astronomical "sleep debt".

Yes, I realize I have been parenthesis happy (parentheses??) but it's midnight for crying out loud!