Wednesday, February 29, 2012

You want me to do what?

Last night I had one of those parenting dawnings. I was nursing my son and the sudden thought of my kids grown and self sufficient human beings trying to make a difference in the world popped in my head. Now you would think I would be swollen with pride and admiration. Nope. Panic set in. I realized I have years, years of trying to make sure my children grow up to be self sufficient, compassionate human beings.
I nearly had an asthma attack.
I know this is just a random freak out and I shall recover but boy howdy! I'm glad God thinks I can do this because I sure need him for this ginormous task.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Kicking and Screaming

I have a problem. I don't like being told what to do.
If/When I have downtime, I prefer to be at home. I know that sounds nuts but it's true.
DH thinks this homebody thing isn't healthy and that I need to go out more.
So every now and then he kicks me out literally kicking and screaming out the door.

Here's the thing. I hate being told what to do.

When he does this, you would think I'd go get a haircut or something like that.
No. I go and do errands because errands compound and because I'm compulsive.
I've tried sitting at a bar having a beer or going to Starbucks for a latte but I hate it. I absolutely hate not feeling as if I'm doing something if I'm outside. When I'm home, it's fine. I can sit and get absorbed with plants vs zombies during my downtime.

Why can't I just relax when I'm not at home? Why must I have to be doing something or checking off something from my list of todos?

Monday, February 27, 2012

Busy Busy Busy

As with most parents, instead of winding down, I going into overdrive when the clock strikes 5p.
Our routine is fairly straightforward. It's a tag team dance of sorts where I'm usually following a practiced routine with room for ad libs here and there. It's like Dancing with the Stars without the sequins and judging.
My evening routine starts like this:

5p Rush home, Start dinner, Wash some dishes, Unpack breastmilk, Prep bedroom for nighttime (dim lights, fill water container, turn down bed), change into home clothes.
6p Feed kids, feed husband (maybe, sometimes we wait until after the kids are asleep), wash more dishes, prep nighttime routine part II (yogurt, toothbrush and wash cloth). DH walks the dog at some point here too.
7p DH helps with 3 Ps for bedtime (potty, pick up and pajamas) while I finish nursing son and getting him to sleep. Then I head into bedroom for nighttime (us map, puzzle time, story time/yogurt, brush teeth, wash face and prayers)

If all goes well, both kids are alseep by 8pm. I can then make dinner for DH and myself, tidy up, wash the dishes and prep for tomorrow morning (breakfast, lunches, breastpumping todos). If I'm really feeling fiesty, I can take a shower or risk it and try to take one in the AM.

I know. Doesn't that sound insane? It's what we do though. It's tiring, yes, but we also know if we do it this way, 6:7 nights we both get to rest a bit by 8pm.  Rest? Do you not see the list of todos on your 8p roster? Listen, nowadays anything that doesn't involve children underfoot is doable in a short period of time.

Plus, I have a compulsive need to have order or some type of order in my life. This drives my husband mad but if he knows what's best, he goes along or the wrath of Mothra appears.

With every season and every change in milestones and age, this routine changes.
Isn't parenting adventurous?

Friday, February 24, 2012

I've seen better days rant

Today did not start off well.
Well, it did start off well but then I got up.
After some cuddling with both kids, I got up and headed to the bathroom for my 5 minute 'me' time (aka brush teeth, wash face, try to be clean etc). DD, aka Superhero Reese, starts the let's knock on the door while Mom's in the bathroom game. She asks if I'm pooping or peeing and then she asks that I make French toast not Daddy. I say if Mommy can have time in the bathroom alone maybe we can make time for me to start it for Daddy. I suspect she prefers my recipe over DH's. She flys of and actually leaves me alone in the bathroom.
I continue to try to make myself presentable to the human race when ::knock knock::, someone needs to use the bathroom and they can't wait.
So I shuffle off to the kitchen in the hopes I can freshen up by the sink. I walk in hoping to sneak past DD who will think I'm done and want to help cook French toast, as promised.
I turn into the kitchen to see Superhero Reese sitting on the stool next to the refrigerator, "Hi Mom. I'm ready to help make French toast." Drat.
I tell her I still need to get ready but maybe soon.
She sits quietly kicking her legs out and in while fumbling with her superhero cape.
I hurriedly put some blush and mascara on and then pull out the eggs.
DH then tells DD, Superhero Reese, that Mommy cannot make French toast because she has to get ready and go to the office. This sets of Superhero Reese and the tears ensue. Full blown sobs and screams. "But Mama said we would try to make time. I didn't go to the bathroom! I'm waiting!"
The banter between father and daughter continue until threats of no French toast come out leading to more tears and sobs.
Finally DD asks to help walk the dog which leads to DH giving her a deadline of 2 minutes to get dressed, a near impossible task for a 3 year old. She asks for help off the stool and DH is obstinate. This isn't going to help make the 2 minute deadline. DD asks me and DH stops and says she cannot ask me for help. This leads to more balling. Now my kid is the color of a turnip.
All the while, all I wanted to do was make my smoothie, set the oven for dinner tonight and pack my lunch and breastmilk parts. Oh and entertain my child by having her crack and whisk the French toast egg while I do all these things. (Yes, my 3 year old can crack and egg and make her own French toast custard by herself as long as you set the mise en place for her.)
Now I'm standing in the kitchen having to appear to be a united front with my husband while waiting until the drama subsides so I can do the things I need to do.
There is another blow out crying session in the bedroom between DH and DD which I can only surmise is due to DH refusing to allow Superhero Reese walk the dog with him. (No capes outside)
By this time, I'm so frazzled, I'm not in a good state I don't know what to do or where to begin.
They leave for the walk and I franctically make my smoothie, pack my lunch and breastpumping accoutrements and realize, crap, I need to wrap a baby shower present for today. I search for some wrapping paper and tape, do a half ass job of wrapping it all while entertaining DS who has completed his morning babbling at the sun and sky session is staring at me for additional entertainment.
While they were out I also sliced some brioche and stuck it in some quick French toast custard.
DH and DD returns just as I'm packing up my lunch. As I'm heading out the door frazzled and not in the state I'd like ot be, DH mentions the following (not in a mean way):
1. I cut the bread too thick. (I think my daughter actually prefers it thick but eh)
2. His custard allows him to make scrambled eggs with the leftovers. He can't with my custard.

Now I'm sitting here realizing two things:
1. I forgot my ice pack to keep the pumped breastmilk cool.
2. I forgot to set the over for dinner tonight which means I've not only left the house frazzled, I get to come home to be frazzled again.

I'm so looking forward to it.

Thursday, February 23, 2012


How much anger displacement is acceptable and what am I teaching my child by my reaction?

This is a question I have been asking myself in the past few weeks.

Is it ok to accept anger displacement?

I know my relationship with others, children and adults, are being monitored and absorbed by my children.
They learn to interact with other by my example.
Therefore, when someone is angry and displacing his/her anger out at someone, is it acceptable?
Now I'm not talking about displacement in the form of verbal or physical abuse. That's always a no.

Lately, I've been trying to learn to bite my tongue.I know I said that I'm starting this on Ash Wednesday but I've been thinking about it alot prior to AW.

I know it isn't appropriate to displace on others but I also know we are all human and we all do it on occasion.
Do I let it slide?
Do I say something?
If I say something while the person is heated, it only fuels the fire. If that is the case, perhaps I should just keep quiet and say something later or nothing at all.
If I say something the irrational person is just only going to become more irrational causing my child to get upset and ask people not to yell or scream.
If I don't address it though, what does my child learn? That it is ok to displace?

This has been really irking me of late.
If I hold off and say something later, 1) does my child understand this? and 2) am I going to hear that I'm holding a grudge?

Argh! and folks wonder why I prefer to sit behind my computer.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Can I zip my lip?

Today is Ash Wednesday.
Aside from getting my ashes, it's also the day to consider something to sacrifice or work on throughout the Lenten season.
This year, I'm picking a doozy.
I'm going to work on holding my tongue.
When I feel the need to say something, I'm going to keep silent, nod my head and count to ten before I say a peep.
I'm finding more and more folks are stressed out these days. It's totally understandable.
It's not right to displace or lash out at someone because of the stress but I want to allot for the fact that we all have stressed moments.
Therefore, before a make a situation into a powder keg situation, I will try to be silent, hold my tongue, nod and count to ten before I say a word.
Perhaps this will give me time to re-evaluate the situation and determine if it's worth it or not to speak.
I know this is a big one.
I wonder if I can make it past the day let alone 40 days.
We shall see.

Monday, February 20, 2012

My breastpump and me

There are some misconceptions I want to clear up about breast pumping.
I have culled these from years, yes years of experience.
With #1 I started pumping immediately under the advisement of my lactation consultant.
My relationship with Hans and Franz continued until my daughter turned 2. Yes, I pumped for 2 years straight.
I've started up my pumping relationship again but with a new pump as my old pump was worked to death.
So here I am starting up my pumping relationship again and can safely say the following:

1. Pumping is not fun.
2. I'm sure there are some folks out there but for me I find no pleasure whatsoever being hooked up to the milking machine.
3. Sometimes you need to squeeze your breast until just the right vacuum is created to allow for efficient pumping. Sometimes you need to hand express to get the right vacuum. This means a handsfree bra is great but that doesn't mean pumping is hands free.
4. My kids will wake up as soon as I turn off the damn pump and want to eat. No fail.
5. I would pay someone to wash my pump parts for me. Seriously. Pumping is such an emotional thing for most women. Most women have a love-hate relationship with it. We do it for our kids. For me, washing those parts is a reminder of how tied I am to pumping. Even when I'm not pumping, I have to care for my parts so that I have the ability to pump. 
6. It drives me insane when someone flippantly remarks, you can just pump. It's like, "What's the big deal?" The big deal is I have to find time to pump in between feedings, working and every day life. Not only to I have to find time to pump, I have to be precise about it. I have to have clean parts, I have to have all the parts, I have to measure out the liquid gold and store it appropriately. I have to be careful not to jostle the liquid gold too much during transport. I have to calculate how long I've had it out, if I have enough and how long it's good for. Let me know even go into the emotions that pumping elicits.
7. Even though I find no pleasure in pumping, I still do it, practically every day. Why? For my child and for other children. I do it with the knowledge how precious and special and beneficial that liquid love is.
8. As long as I can, I will continue to pump. I will continue to guesstimate how many ounces I may need. I will gingerly wash the parts, replace membranes, pack them lovingly.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

When you are sleep deprived, annoyances happen

As parents you shush a lot. For us we don't necessarily shush our kids but each other.
Most of the time it's in mocking seriousness like when it's 11:30pm and you accidentally drop something or bang into something. Your partner who has just spent 30 minutes aiding one of your children to slumberland will shush you.
It's not a vile or malevolent shush.
It's a for-the-love-of-all-things-holy-do-not-wake-the-child.
For me it's usually, for-the-love-of-all-things-holy-do-not-wake-the-child-I-just-want-to-pee/eat/shower-before-someone-wakes-up-again.
I know when things are a little too much though when that shush ellicits this reaction: "What?! I opened the door and it dropped. I didn't do anything."
I'm having one of those moments.
When this happens, it's like the freaking Princess and the Pea. It's best for to shut up and forget any chance of adult conversation for the night. Hope everyone gets to sleep and start fresh the next day.
Of course though, that's the best course. What is my normal reaction? Take the other road. 
"I wasn't trying to be mean or angry." What I should have said was nothing. What I meant to say was, "My statement was merely a light hearted attempt at levity after a long day of parenting."
"Well then why did you shush me?"
Again, I should have said nothing. What I wound up saying was, "Because I don't want to risk waking up DS as I need to tend to DD's needs now."
"Well, really, maybe I should have just shut up and taken care of DD."
"That wasn't the point."
It's a losing battle. 
I need to train my brain to just shut up when it's a clear case of The Long Day.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Harriet the Spy

I know sometimes I can be a bit too demanding of my kids.
I feel like some brutus when I do it.
For example, my kid loves the states. I'm not joking. Every night she's added to her bedtime routine states. I point to a state and she names it.
She doesn't know all the states. We have a handful but still I'm proud of her and I like to take her lead in learning what interests her.
Sometimes I feel like she says the wrong state to prolong the bedtime. Actually, I think she's prolonging the mommy and me time which is totally understandable with a 3 month old in the house.
Still, it gets to me. The first few times I'm ok but when she's consistent, when she constantly asks, "Give me a hint." before I even finish the question, I know she's better than that.
Now I know, she's not going to have a high concentration level.
I just don't like that she does that. I know you know the answer. Answer it.
I'm having a blast with you too kid but don't start going all, "I don't know." when you do know.
My new tactic is we have a timer for states. If we don't finish talking about the states before the timer goes off, we won't have time for her puzzle book. (I'm telling this bedtime puzzles, quizzes etc is great but I know it's also lengthening our bedtime.)
Today I started it. The robot timer went off and she frantically starting pointing to states and naming them, correctly! At one point she said to herself, "Think, think, think.  Nebraska! I found Nebraska!"
Afterwards, as I was tucking her in I told her that she just demonstrated to me that she did know the states and she didn't have to pretend she didn't know. I don't know if she gets it.
Girls do many foolish things during the hormone years. One thing I don't want her to do is dumb herself down for anyone. She's a bright and intelligent girl who should use her talents and be proud of them.
Am I being to harsh on her?
Am I displacing some personal childhood stuff on her?

Monday, February 13, 2012


A newlywed asked me if one can learn to be patient. He said, "I fear I won't have any patience with my kids."
With your kids, you gain extra patience. I don't know where it comes from but it does.
Now, there will be times where you think you are just going to lose your schmidt and that's normal but most folks find a way to displace that in a bowl of ice cream or what not.
The big driving force for me is what I see everyday.
Everyday, I see some stupidity or idiocy that makes me go, my kids cannot contribute to this ridiculousness. My kids need to be strong, confident and have a sense of common sense and logic. There is too much 'what the Whuck?' out there.
This morning, I must have made more moans and groans than acceptable in the workplace that doesn't reside in the desert somewhere in Nevada. With every email I opened, more inefficiencies were displayed.
I'm not an efficiency expert. I am an obsessive compulsive, anal retentive, logical person and apparently this sometimes leans itself to efficiency and streamlined processes (well, there are a few idiosyncractic items but that's for another post.)
I hate paper shuffling.
I hate meetings.
I hate unproductive to dos.
I desire my kids to be as productive as possible and a means in which I can try to steer them towards this is not only to be a role model but to also display patience. You need to patient to learn something. You need to be patient to be meticulous.
I don't want them to be like me in the sense that it can be a little ridiculous. (I went to work the week I gave birth because I had a compulsion to dot every i.)
So patience can be learned and in some shape or form it will appear. Everyone has a different driving force but as a parent, you will have that patience.
As for the newlywed, I told him to relax and just enjoy married life first.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Squeaky Voice

Do all preschool girls enjoy talking in a high pitched voice?
I had to bribe my kid (bribe!) to stop.
pg: If you can speak in your regular voice for 30 minutes, you can help me make a special snack time treat.

Oh, and if you ask my daughter to speak in a normal or lower voice, she'll attempt to speak like Barry White. She's a ham.

Thursday, February 09, 2012

Potty Rock Anthem

I wish I could say that being a mom to a 3 year old has made me a seasoned parent.
It hasn't.
The wonderful thing about kids is that each age brings something new and exciting.
For us, it's peeing every 90 minutes at night. Seriously, she's like a camel. Where does she store it?
Now this might not seem like a big deal. Huzzah! The kid is old enough and knows that she needs to potty and she wakes up and goes.
Ah, but she's three. You can't trust a three year old to wipe just yet. A pediatrician friend told me me the horrible infections she's seen and it's been engrained in my head.
So when she wakes, a parent wakes.
It's simply wonderful waking up from a slumber to wipe someone.
It's a dream come true.
I know this too shall pass.
Last night was rough though.
This morning, I'm still feeling the effects of an unrestful night's sleep. I went to the basement to throw out the recycleables only to enter the elevator and head back up to my apartment instead of the lobby to head outside.
Why did America get rid of the siesta again?

Wednesday, February 08, 2012

Just letting it out.

Sometimes a person can hit a nerve.
For me, don't you dare say anything to me about parenting in the heat of anger.
I become deeply insulted and although I know that isn't truly meant, it will be that much harder for me to forget and forgive.
It will sting because if there is anything I'm certain of is my parenting. All parents do what they believe is best for their child. Forget the labels. In the end it's all the same, we do what we deem best. Therefore, no one should question another's parenting. It's below the belt. It's childish. 
We are a team and we need to work as a team. We can become overwhelmed that we need a break. That's normal. We can become overwhelmed that we snap and release in a vent. Just don't let that vent become personal. Don't ever use parenting as a shard of glass.
I rarely say anything is right or wrong.  That is wrong.
In the same frame of mind, don't you ever dare say anything about my family.
A woman does more than anyone can imagine for their family.
They give up more willingly. They sacrifice and put their needs below their family.
"not seven times but seventy-seven times." When someone does the above to me, it makes it that much harder for me.

Tuesday, February 07, 2012

When the whippoorwill, Whippoors in the wind, The wind can whippoor back, O nice and chubby baby!

I look at my son and reach my finger out to him to grasp.  His tiny chubby fingers and hand surround my finger and with that touch, I feel so much love and pride. His smile just sends me over the edge.
Seeing how he's growing, how his thighs have cute baby fat rolls, his feet are just chubby cuteness and his cheeks are plump and rosy, I swell with pride knowing my breastmilk has contributed to his growth.
Now I'm not going to go all breast is best now. I think everyone knows I'm pro mommy's milk whenever possible. 
I just can't believe this little human being is growing and thriving in some small part because of me. I know I said this before with my daughter but it's still ever amazing.

Monday, February 06, 2012

Hip Hip Hooray, It's Groundhog's Day!

I know this is late but I get a pass, I'm a mom (and a mom to two under 4 at that).
I love Bill Murray's film, "Groundhog Day."
I love it not because of the hilarity or plot although it's darn good.
I love it because it reminds me of my Dad. My Dad loved this movie. There are a handful of movies my Dad really really loved and got a kick out of. This one in particular has the added benefit of conjuring up memories of my brother as a kid and my own thoughts and memories of being a kid whose brain was sometimes too old for itself.
My Dad and brother got a kick out of this movie. I never got into it until after his death.
The banality of life, I just didn't get. I was too young to get the epiphany that Bill Murray's character receives to push the film to a happy ending. I was to angst filled.
Now I look back at that movie and I smile and laugh and wonder, would I want a do-over?
I know the actual holiday focuses on weather and the entertainment and folly of a rodent like animal but thanks to those memories, it will always remind me of that movie and how my Dad and brother would chuckle and laugh until their bellies ached.

Friday, February 03, 2012

Pump Parts, Oh how I abhor you

Now that I'm back in the office I've added another component to the ever growing pile of dishes we constantly have. (I'm fairly certain that cups and bowls hid just to appear once the sink is empty.) Not only do I have the thrilling honor to pump my breasts, I also have to contend with the darn pump parts and cleaning them.
I recall with #1, I begged my husband to wash the parts. The sight of them drove me nuts. Now we both do them whenever we see them. Sure I do them most of the time (male refrigerator blindess has a cousin, male kitchen sink blindness), but he tries to wash them too.
The problem though is with pumping comes the bottles of stashed liquid gold that need to be washed too.
This time around I've been stashing the milk not in milk bags but milk bottles. I figured DH can grab a bottle of milk, a nursing bottle and do his thing with the kids and when DS needs milk, pour the milk into the nurser and feed him.
I label each one with a removable sticker so he knows the expiration date of the milk. I only ask that he remove the sticker prior to washing to avoid that tackiness that happens once the adhesive gets wet.
Does he do that? No.
And then I lose my schmidt because I spend the precious time when the kids are asleep, not only prepping meals for the next day but also rubbing olive oil on the caps to remove the adhesive.
What does he say to my rant? "Why can't you just appreciate that I washed the parts."
This made me thing, am I going to be a thrill killer to my kids?
Should I appreciate more?
My mom was a bit a thrill killer but because that's what Chinese moms do. You got an A? You could have gotten an A+ if you did this.  It's all meant well.
Good grief, will I be like that?

Thursday, February 02, 2012


Our bedtime routine for DD has now morphed to this:
Supper, Bathtime, Storytime/Yogurt, Brush Teeth, Wash Face, Puzzle/Trivia, US Map (aka The United Space of America) then Prayers.
If she wakes up in the middle of the night, she gets one lullaby.
I know. I know.
It's just that her brain for some reason is super active and she asks to do a trivia/puzzle exercise. I'm really impressed because she's tired but she needs that tricky question to think about to settle her brain. We're focusing on ordinal numbers now.
Then we have the US Map. She can name 7 states. Once she recalls all her states, she picks another state and I tell her what it is and a fun fact. 
This activity really gives me insight to how her brain works to recall things. For example, one day I pointed to Georgia and she sat there thinking very hard and then she began to try to figure it out outloud. She said, "It's curious." I realized she was correlating George with Curious George.
Watching DS learn has also been fascinating. Just like with my daughter, I sing the vowels (English and romantic language) to him in the AM. He seems to try to sing the last sound each time. He smiles and bubbles with happiness.
He found his hands a month ago and every morning after our sing-a-long, she stares out the window and plays with his hands while I make breakfast or freshen up.
DD and DS seem to be getting along well. I've caught her kissing him and holding his hand. Then again, I've caught her tossing a ball (soft plush) at his head and giggling saying she's playing ball with him.
DH and I are doing well. We miss each other and would like more time together but it also makes us cherish our moments together. Since DS, I think our relationship has even gotten stronger and closer oddly enough. Maybe it's the fact that we are outnumbered and we need to stick together but who knows.
Now this doesn't mean we aren't at each other especially regarding the housework (which has not doubled but tripled). We still have our little fits but we're now at a point where we have our fits, we realize it's just a release and not personal and we move on. We also know that housework will always be there but the important thing is not that the walls are dusted but that the kids are fed, the dogs are walked and we are all doing ok. (Although it would be nice if our entranceway lightbulb was changed already.)

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

A Reboot of Sorts

It's been a really long time.
I needed a sabbatical.
Don't get me wrong.
I had a lot in my brain I wanted to say but with the kids, the dead of winter and several illnesses, putting my thoughts in here was not happening.
Well, I suppose I need to start fresh now as trying to recall all those random thoughts would be as unlikely as us having everyone in the house sleep through the night these days.
Let's try to catch up before I start anew.
DS is a happy baby which makes me a happy mommy. He smiles. He giggles. He plays with his hands and stares at it as if he's on some weird trip.
DD is going through the regression stage of having a new baby in the house. Top that off with her being 3 and it's good times all around. I can't complain though as she's not terrible. She's just going through the I'll be overdramatic for some added attention.
Oh and she's on the occasional, "I'm a baby" pretend play too. She's had DH swaddle her. I've worn her on the Ergo. (By the way, the Ergo is an awesome beast. I barely felt her on my back.)
We're also in full pretend mode. Every day, the entire family is someone/thing else. One day we will all be boys. The next day we are all girls. One day we are animals.
Now that I'm back at the office, DD is also doing alot of 'Heading to the office' play.
DH is doing well although I think he's feeling a bit overwhelmed. He's focusing on photography and videography to give him something outside of the family. (I strongly believe that every parent needs something outside of the family to keep their sanity.)
The dog is now physically fighting against walks. Have you heard of a dog that doesn't like to go out for a walk?!
Ok, back to what's hanging out in the pantry...
In January, there was a two week period where if I didn't have things to do outside with the kids, I became a hermit. It wasn't a depression stay at home thing. It felt more like a hibernation, storing my energy. Part of the cause was a cough that just wouldn't leave. Another part was the knowledge that I was returning to work. Another part was everyone I know is battling an illness, some mild some pretty heavy.
I'm not sure what's going on but I pray every day for my friends and family who are ill.
On the baptism front, DS is still not baptized although I'd like him to be already. MIL has asked to wait until she arrives which she has decided is not until the winter weather subsides. I'm trying my best to coordinate.
I'm back at work and I'm pretty psyched. It feels good to be back in the office even though I'm still dealing with poop. I suppose that's a part of life, you deal with poop in some shape or form whether you are a parent or a worker bee.
Sadly some things are still status quo which on one hand makes me feel as though I haven't missed much but at the same time, makes everything feel as though time has stood still. It's just darn odd.
My mommy guilt that was prevalant prior to DS' birth regarding changing DD's life has disappeared. I'm not feeling the mommy guiilt about 2nd child syndrom yet. I do have mommy guilt about DD and wondering if my expectations for her are too high. (A 3 year old should be able to regulate her emotions, right? JK)
We're practicing our "Treat others the way we would like to be treated." However it's compounded by the fact she's going through the 3 year old shy stage. I hate that word 'shy'. I try to tell folks it takes a while to warm up to a strange environment but I suppose that takes more effort to say. She's getting better.
Thing is, once she's comfortable with you, she's a giant ham.
At a parent day open house at one of her classes, they asked each kid to stand up and say their name and a talent. My kid gets up and spouts out a CV longer than her wishlist to Santa.
We're also still practicing "Time wait for no one." Now she's slowly learning that if she asks to do something that crosses into bedtime hour, we need to take something away from our bedtime routine. ie. She wants to finish playing pretend kitchen, that means that we skip the story today. (We have a super long bed routine. Partly my fault but it works so I'm not knocking it.)