It's official. I am a big liar, a really big liar. And your pants are on fire too, admit it. We've all been so caught up in the holiday spirit, how many of us have counted the number of lies we've laid out in the month of December? Surely it's above our quota.
The elaborate length of our trickery occurred to me as I walked around the house at 11:45 pm on Christmas Eve with a string of bells, gently shaking them outside my childrens' doors- loud enough to possibly invade their Christmas Eve dreams, but quiet enough not to get them awake too early to see the presents carefully laid out for them (or for them to see the crumbs on my lips from the cookies we set out). Oh the elaborate trickery we perform!
We stop talking like grown ups in the month of December. We differentiate between fiction on TV and a new so-called reality. "Sweetheart, this is a cartoon about Rudolf but that's not the Real Rudolf- it's just a cartoon." Which seriously begs the question: where is the real Rudolf? Does his nose really shine so bright? "This is just a movie about the Tooth Fairy. The real Tooth Fairy is much smaller". Since when does the myth become reality and the movie become the fantasy? Do we realize the price we pay when we blur those lines so fantastically? You can even ride on the Polar Express and meet up with Santa in the middle of the woods! But we see Santa everywhere we go now anyway, "Oh silly, that's not the real Santa. You wouldn't have to pay the real Santa $18 to take a photo of you on his lap!" So where's the real Santa then? Is this one of his minions or really is that just someone the mall hired? Grown ups... we need to get our stories straight if this hoax is going to last... how many times does Santa check his list? Who works for Santa and who is just in it for a pay check? How does Santa fit all the toys in his sack? There's so many versions of the story out there, we're bound to be discovered for the liars that we are if we don't all agree on something.
It's not enough that there is a Santa and his reindeer to conjure up. We also need to comply with our culture's insistence of piling up more lies... I mean traditions. Now we have an Elf to sit on our shelves and we all need to keep listening for the Polar Express too. I keep losing that damn little bell and putting it in places where Liam finds it before me even though everyone knows Santa is the one who is supposed to put the bell under a tree in a separately marked package. How can I keep up with the Elf if I can't even do the Polar Express bell effectively? Maybe I need a separate box to be kept under my bed labeled "LIES" where I keep my bunny ears, stash the Tooth Fairy's Sacajawea coins and hide that damn broken bell.
On a side, philosophical, note... don't think it goes un-noticed that I am actually Jewish here. I completely realize the irony as I carefully arrange my childrens' plastic Easter grass in their baskets. I won't apologize for this- I'll only say that I'm glad Judaism doesn't pile on any additional hoaxes that I'm aware of. I mean, there's Hannukah Harry but I have no idea who made him up and I have no intention of posing as a guy named Harry- I want to take all of the credit for the presents my children receive on Hannukah.
Maybe it's all the kids' fault. They're so gullible, they're asking for all these lies really. It's no wonder they believe in ghosts and monsters considering how we fool them into believing in all these other imaginary creatures and beings. For a child, it wouldn't be too far fetched to see a man in a sleigh; just like seeing an alligator under their bed or a monster in their closet seems like a possibility.
I teach my students in school about fantasy and realistic fiction. It takes quite awhile to get past the "It could happen" possibility that separates the two. They keep saying, "There could be a wizard named Harry" and "It's possible that a lion can talk" and I keep assuring them that no, these things are not known to be true so they therefore make the stories fantasy. Every year somehow it comes up... maybe as they're writing a book about Santa on their Reading Log or perhaps in conversation... "Is this book about Santa fantasy or realistic fiction?" And I have to stop talking like a teacher, put away all of my education that screams at me to say (obviously) Realistic Fantasy. Instead I say, "What do you think?" and I actually do smile when they write "Realistic Fiction".
There's still time to stand up against it all... but really, no, there isn't. I started with Joshua years ago. Santa this and "Ho Ho Ho" that. And my lies are propagated by just about everyone who met him this December. Santa even visited his baby sitter's house with his jingle bells and presents. Joshua and Santa go way back, and I haven't done a single thing to stop it, only to add more fuel to the flames by singing "Santa Claus is coming to town..." Why don't we tell our kids the truth about Santa? Hmmm
Here's my other confession... lying is so much fun. I mean, running around with jingle bells in the middle of the night... that's just plain silly fun. Not to mention how much fun it is to leave a trail of jelly beans throughout the house or to hide Easter eggs. Lying is so much fun, I'm considering buying a TuTu to wear when I get to make that first Tooth Fairy appearance! I am so complicit with all these hoaxes, I just can't help but think... maybe I'm making them true. Seriously, if I get that TuTu and I leave a coin under Liam's pillow, then technically I AM the Tooth Fairy, right? Which leaves Bill as the official Santa and me as the official Easter Bunny (Go ahead and laugh, I'm a Jewish Easter Bunny... what's bigger, my ears or my nose?)!
I know I struggle with the whole Polar Express bell thingy but I am seriously considering buying an Elf on the Shelf if I see one on the clearance rack this January. Afterall, what's one more lie?
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Craft Glue Doesn't Dry Clear
I'm in a rip roaring bad mood and I've got to tell you why. It's these holiday crafts. Every year we give a holiday craft to our loved ones. One year it involved magnetic picture frames. They were foam and Liam got to stick stickers all over them. I had to bite my tongue every night as we painstakingly made each frame with no regard for symmetry or color coordination. I've always been one for trying more creative crafts that don't have to turn out a certain way. I prefer the crafts that let you choose which colors to use and which holiday to celebrate. Several years ago we made marshmallow man ornaments. Some looked vaguely like Santa (again, with the asymmetrical arms and facial features). The ornaments we gave to Jewish relatives had Star of David foam stickers on their bellies (or backs or heads or feet). Last year may have been our crowning achievement. Liam used play dough cookie cutters to cut out ornaments. We stuck a straw in the top of each one to make a hole for a string. After the cut-outs dried we painted them with glittery paint. I think it's all going downhill after those ornaments.
This year once again, I walked straight past the cute foam ornament kits. Straight past them to another kit. I don't know what I was thinking. How would making bell necklaces be creative? At least I could have chosen beads or something but no, I chose bell necklaces. The bell necklaces are made of metal which meant we needed craft glue. Craft glue isn't pretty. I am assuming true crafters know how to use it effectively but then again, I'm not a true crafter. So instead we have craft glue smeared over our reindeers' eyes and pom pom noses. The snowmen were even harder than the reindeer. The snowmen necklaces came with tiny eyes poked out from foam and minuscule pieces of foam to make the mouth. I think the person who thought up that design clearly has coal for brains. You can't stick minuscule (ie less than a half a millimeter in diameter) foam onto a metal object, it just won't adhere. Check that, it will adhere to everything until it crumples up and gets lost under your fingernail. The necklaces were a bust. I may give them out anyway but let's be truly honest- they were not made by the children. They may look like they were made by children, but they were not made by the children. And I'd say they were made with love but they caused me a great deal of tension, which made me very caustic and sarcastic during the whole crafting session. So I'm not really sure you'd get much a love vibe from the necklaces either. Here's how I know it was a bad scene... Bill actually intervened and made the last snowman.
Here's the thing with Christmas crafts. You get inspired by the magazines or you do the foam thing in the aisle at the craft store. The magazines are just an abomination. Talented but out-of-work artists must pose as everyday moms to create "Beautiful Christmas Decorations On A Budget". And since when are the ornaments they show hanging from the tree made by anyone under the age of 22? I had a back up plan this year to make Q-Tip snowflakes from Family Fun. In the magazine they looked beautiful. I quickly found out that I could make the snowflake but it was a lot bigger than I thought it would be (obviously an oversight on my part when I looked at the photo). On the Internet one crafter said she makes Q-Tip snowflakes with her elementary school students every year. I find this hard to believe- first, because current academic standards are so high that there is barely time for a holiday party let alone a holiday craft and second, because unless she has three teacher's aides who are actually highly trained artists I can't really see how she could pull off this craft in her classroom. When I gave Liam some of the Q-Tips he poured mountains of glitter glue and ended up with a Q-Tip pile. Ironically, his pile-o-Q-Tips didn't look much different from Joshua's. I intervened and made the Q-Tip snowflake from the magazine. Liam agreed that it looked "prettier than pretty". We tried to glue the tips together but it was kind of a disaster and I ended up doing all the work. So once again we have a project that I did most of the work on and now it's taking forever to dry.
There's a morale to all of this, I know. It's probably that Christmas isn't about the crafting and that next year I should just take it easy and get the foam ornaments. Actually, just today I received a handmade foam ornament in the mail. For a moment I visualized all that went into making that foam ornament. I noticed how it lacked symmetry and color coordination. But I also noticed that it was clearly made by a child, which is more than I can say for our craft projects so far this year.
So back to the morals of the story...
(1) Christmas is about love so make a craft that brings you family together.
(2) Don't use any glitter on your projects or your relatives won't love you anymore.
(3) Avoid craft glue and instead of battling with a clogged Elmer's glue cap that just won't work anymore, buy a new glue bottle.
(4) Make crafts that can be for any holiday.
(5) Choose a craft that your child can actually do.
(6) Work on crafts before bedtime so if at all goes sour, at least you can have a glass of wine before bed.
This year once again, I walked straight past the cute foam ornament kits. Straight past them to another kit. I don't know what I was thinking. How would making bell necklaces be creative? At least I could have chosen beads or something but no, I chose bell necklaces. The bell necklaces are made of metal which meant we needed craft glue. Craft glue isn't pretty. I am assuming true crafters know how to use it effectively but then again, I'm not a true crafter. So instead we have craft glue smeared over our reindeers' eyes and pom pom noses. The snowmen were even harder than the reindeer. The snowmen necklaces came with tiny eyes poked out from foam and minuscule pieces of foam to make the mouth. I think the person who thought up that design clearly has coal for brains. You can't stick minuscule (ie less than a half a millimeter in diameter) foam onto a metal object, it just won't adhere. Check that, it will adhere to everything until it crumples up and gets lost under your fingernail. The necklaces were a bust. I may give them out anyway but let's be truly honest- they were not made by the children. They may look like they were made by children, but they were not made by the children. And I'd say they were made with love but they caused me a great deal of tension, which made me very caustic and sarcastic during the whole crafting session. So I'm not really sure you'd get much a love vibe from the necklaces either. Here's how I know it was a bad scene... Bill actually intervened and made the last snowman.
Here's the thing with Christmas crafts. You get inspired by the magazines or you do the foam thing in the aisle at the craft store. The magazines are just an abomination. Talented but out-of-work artists must pose as everyday moms to create "Beautiful Christmas Decorations On A Budget". And since when are the ornaments they show hanging from the tree made by anyone under the age of 22? I had a back up plan this year to make Q-Tip snowflakes from Family Fun. In the magazine they looked beautiful. I quickly found out that I could make the snowflake but it was a lot bigger than I thought it would be (obviously an oversight on my part when I looked at the photo). On the Internet one crafter said she makes Q-Tip snowflakes with her elementary school students every year. I find this hard to believe- first, because current academic standards are so high that there is barely time for a holiday party let alone a holiday craft and second, because unless she has three teacher's aides who are actually highly trained artists I can't really see how she could pull off this craft in her classroom. When I gave Liam some of the Q-Tips he poured mountains of glitter glue and ended up with a Q-Tip pile. Ironically, his pile-o-Q-Tips didn't look much different from Joshua's. I intervened and made the Q-Tip snowflake from the magazine. Liam agreed that it looked "prettier than pretty". We tried to glue the tips together but it was kind of a disaster and I ended up doing all the work. So once again we have a project that I did most of the work on and now it's taking forever to dry.
There's a morale to all of this, I know. It's probably that Christmas isn't about the crafting and that next year I should just take it easy and get the foam ornaments. Actually, just today I received a handmade foam ornament in the mail. For a moment I visualized all that went into making that foam ornament. I noticed how it lacked symmetry and color coordination. But I also noticed that it was clearly made by a child, which is more than I can say for our craft projects so far this year.
So back to the morals of the story...
(1) Christmas is about love so make a craft that brings you family together.
(2) Don't use any glitter on your projects or your relatives won't love you anymore.
(3) Avoid craft glue and instead of battling with a clogged Elmer's glue cap that just won't work anymore, buy a new glue bottle.
(4) Make crafts that can be for any holiday.
(5) Choose a craft that your child can actually do.
(6) Work on crafts before bedtime so if at all goes sour, at least you can have a glass of wine before bed.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Decorating Our Home For the Holidays
For 11 years I've have free reign over decorating our home for the holidays. When Bill and I lived in our first apartment it was sparsely decorated. Knowing we would be sharing our lives together, I wanted to start with a cozy home for our first holiday. Being Jewish, I had inherited no Christmas decorations of my own and being the oldest in his family, Bill hadn't inherited any yet either. Actually, to be fair, most of their decorations were old art projects from the three boys days in day care and elementary school- touching but not a great start for us anyway. So I loaded up on coupons to my favorite craft store and spent a whole $50 on decorations. They all coordinated. They were red and gold, with white lights. I topped it off with a small Charlie-Brown-Christmas tree. I decorated our first home as a surprise. Bill came home and smiled but was not nearly as pleased with me as I was. Apparently he doesn't even think about Christmas until Christmas Eve so decorating just after Thanksgiving was unheard of anyway. But he appreciated the gesture.
Years later I found out perhaps the real reason why Bill wasn't jumping for joy over my decorations. He prefers those gaudy colored lights. Okay, I admit it, maybe they color coordinated a little too well. But colored lights? No, they just wouldn't go in our new apartment and they certainly didn't work in our new house a couple of years later.
But then what about the bushes outside. Okay, that was the compromise. Colored outside, white inside. Meanwhile I had come up with the perfect display of our Christmas decorations. I optimized my $50 worth of craft store decorations, a new bigger Charlie-Brown-Christmas tree and many Christmas trinkets given to me by students (actually that's not fair- some of my nicer decorations came from students) by displaying them strategically around the living room. I wound a set of white lights around a fake pine garland, hung red and gold tassels perfectly aligned on the entertainment center and windows, wound matching red and gold bows around the ugly banisters in my kitchen and even hung the red and gold ornaments on the tree. Yes, it was bliss.
Then we got a bigger tree, moved it to the family room and had our first Christmas with the whole family in our home. I broke down and agreed to colored lights in the family room- provided we could buy colored ornament balls (red and gold don't really match with the colored lights, in case you haven't noticed). With a new charge of decorating not one but two areas in the holiday spirit, I set about buying more items, including coordinating stockings, stocking holders and more (matching) garlands. Everything has its place as soon as it gets out of the Christmas bin.
I'm sounding more and more compulsive aren't I? Well whatever, I'd like to point out that the guy who lives two streets over still puts his inflatable Santa Grinch in the same spot on his lawn every year and the people across from him still have their blinking "MERRY CHRISTMAS" lights right over their garage... just light the years before. So it's really not too different, now is it? Although if I'm starting to gossip about neighbors anyway, I have noticed that each year they keep adding somethings to their displays with apparent disregard for coordinating colors. I can compromise with mixing those colored lights and some white lights, but adding the blue lights too and/or different size bulbs is excessively clashing, don't you think?
So what's the point of this blog post? I guess I needed to vent and put it all on the line. I was a little miffed this year when Liam, who has been "helping" me decorate for 5 years now, tried to take over decorating this year. Last year he was sooo compliant. I would tell him to put an ornament on the tree and he would do it just like I asked. It was the perfect balance of helpfulness and competence without interference. But this year he actually grabbed garlands and strewed them willy nilly across the Christmas tree. He tried to hold my breakable stocking holders. He placed stuffed snowmen and Santa who says, "The magic of Christmas lies in your heart" in clearly incorrect places. It was just... wrong. Then he grabbed gold ribbon and zig-zagged it tightly around the banisters separating the kitchen and dining room. Those things are ugly enough, now I had a tightly wound mess! I couldn't help myself, I redid the whole display. I spent about 1 1/2 hours on the ribbon alone, making sure the bows were perfect and the ribbon draped equally between each banister. When I was done, I had to credit Liam. I think it was cuter than the red bows I had put on the banisters for the past 5 years.
The next night was a Monday. Liam grabbed a spool of red ribbon and proceeded to tightly wind them through the stair banisters. This is in a much more visible location but the difference is... he did this on a Monday so I promptly put off fixing it for lack of time and continued to forget about it. And I have forgotten about it for the past 2 weeks. I haven't fixed it and it's kind of growing on me.
I wonder what decorations Liam will suggest next year. Possibly he will want to put the pine garland around our window or on the back of a couch. Whatever... as long as he doesn't try to put the colored lights upstairs.
Years later I found out perhaps the real reason why Bill wasn't jumping for joy over my decorations. He prefers those gaudy colored lights. Okay, I admit it, maybe they color coordinated a little too well. But colored lights? No, they just wouldn't go in our new apartment and they certainly didn't work in our new house a couple of years later.
But then what about the bushes outside. Okay, that was the compromise. Colored outside, white inside. Meanwhile I had come up with the perfect display of our Christmas decorations. I optimized my $50 worth of craft store decorations, a new bigger Charlie-Brown-Christmas tree and many Christmas trinkets given to me by students (actually that's not fair- some of my nicer decorations came from students) by displaying them strategically around the living room. I wound a set of white lights around a fake pine garland, hung red and gold tassels perfectly aligned on the entertainment center and windows, wound matching red and gold bows around the ugly banisters in my kitchen and even hung the red and gold ornaments on the tree. Yes, it was bliss.
Then we got a bigger tree, moved it to the family room and had our first Christmas with the whole family in our home. I broke down and agreed to colored lights in the family room- provided we could buy colored ornament balls (red and gold don't really match with the colored lights, in case you haven't noticed). With a new charge of decorating not one but two areas in the holiday spirit, I set about buying more items, including coordinating stockings, stocking holders and more (matching) garlands. Everything has its place as soon as it gets out of the Christmas bin.
I'm sounding more and more compulsive aren't I? Well whatever, I'd like to point out that the guy who lives two streets over still puts his inflatable Santa Grinch in the same spot on his lawn every year and the people across from him still have their blinking "MERRY CHRISTMAS" lights right over their garage... just light the years before. So it's really not too different, now is it? Although if I'm starting to gossip about neighbors anyway, I have noticed that each year they keep adding somethings to their displays with apparent disregard for coordinating colors. I can compromise with mixing those colored lights and some white lights, but adding the blue lights too and/or different size bulbs is excessively clashing, don't you think?
So what's the point of this blog post? I guess I needed to vent and put it all on the line. I was a little miffed this year when Liam, who has been "helping" me decorate for 5 years now, tried to take over decorating this year. Last year he was sooo compliant. I would tell him to put an ornament on the tree and he would do it just like I asked. It was the perfect balance of helpfulness and competence without interference. But this year he actually grabbed garlands and strewed them willy nilly across the Christmas tree. He tried to hold my breakable stocking holders. He placed stuffed snowmen and Santa who says, "The magic of Christmas lies in your heart" in clearly incorrect places. It was just... wrong. Then he grabbed gold ribbon and zig-zagged it tightly around the banisters separating the kitchen and dining room. Those things are ugly enough, now I had a tightly wound mess! I couldn't help myself, I redid the whole display. I spent about 1 1/2 hours on the ribbon alone, making sure the bows were perfect and the ribbon draped equally between each banister. When I was done, I had to credit Liam. I think it was cuter than the red bows I had put on the banisters for the past 5 years.
The next night was a Monday. Liam grabbed a spool of red ribbon and proceeded to tightly wind them through the stair banisters. This is in a much more visible location but the difference is... he did this on a Monday so I promptly put off fixing it for lack of time and continued to forget about it. And I have forgotten about it for the past 2 weeks. I haven't fixed it and it's kind of growing on me.
I wonder what decorations Liam will suggest next year. Possibly he will want to put the pine garland around our window or on the back of a couch. Whatever... as long as he doesn't try to put the colored lights upstairs.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
High Expectations
I remember a last year Liam asked Santa to bring him a rocket ship. I knew it would be the last of these cheap requests, so I truly did savor the moment. We got him a fancy rocket with a landing pod and moon walker- Imaginext. The rocket ship lit up and its wings sprang out. It cost $40. Meanwhile I picked up a robotic dinosaur on sale for Joshua. We were a happy Mr. & Mrs. Claus.
This year we realize just how blessed we were. For the first time Liam wants, no expects, something a bit less simple. He is expecting Santa to bring him a DS. A DS is a hand-held Nintendo gaming system. They start at about $150 but the 3D model is usually closer to $179. I mentioned an expectation. That's because I realized this year that our little guy, who really is not spoiled, expects this gift from Santa. He clearly expects that Santa will just drop down the chimney, eat his cookies and leave a DS. When asked why he expects Santa to bring him what he wants, he replied, "Because he did last year!" Oops, apparently that $40 rocket ship wasn't such a great idea after all.
It occurred to Bill and I that we should set Liam up for disappointment... just in case we could find a good enough sale. "Well... Santa might not bring you a DS. He has to buy presents for millions of little boys and girls out there." and "If Santa doesn't bring you a DS maybe you can use your money to buy one" (this was a complete lie since Liam only has $26).
We're not so worried about Joshua. So far all I could get out of him that he wanted for he holidays was a blanket and more dinosaurs. I'm pretty sure he will have a different answer after he wakes up from his nap. I've settled on a Santa gift of a mega playland (which I found on sale) that includes those portable playhouses and tunnels. It cost $35 but I'm quite sure that to Joshua it will look like a million bucks.
What about this Santa guy bringing gifts to millions of children? As an adult I know the stark reality. Millions of childrens' parents can't afford the rocket, let alone the DS. Millions of children will have no Christmas. If there was a Santa, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be giving out $200 worth of gifts to one child, $20 to another and $2,000 to the kid on the nice side of town.
Do I really want my child to expect this DS? Not at all. And what if he does get the DS from Santa. What will he expect next year since Santa has always given in to his requests? But what if we ignore his request and he finds the Imaginext Medieval Castle instead?
So here we all are in the official holiday shopping season. That what if is why we wait in lines and shop down aisles littered with misplaced, missing toys. It's why we look forlornly at the tag "Buy 1 Transformer Get 2 Free" with rows of empty pegs and it's why we search the nearby shelves for stowaway Transformers (that actually worked last year for me, I found two misplaced Zhu Zhu pets when the rest of the store was sold out after a Black Friday sale). I swear the toy aisles look a lot like someone took a bowling ball and rolled it down each of the shelves.
Okay, so I admit it. This morning when we saw a DS on sale in our price range I sent Bill out to the store to go buy it (after he made me breakfast). As I held that small box in my hand I knew I was setting us up for an even more expensive Christmas of 2012. I knew that Santa would be expected again next year to bring some high tech gadget- possibly next time an iPad or a stereo, Guitar Hero or even a new game system. I knew that in time Joshua would learn the same thing, that he could ask for a bit more than just a blanket and a new dinosaur. That Santa would bring him his wildest dreams- a mega playland (with basket ball net and 50 balls included). Yes, I knew the expectation that this DS would bring to future Christmases. But it's still going to end up next to Liam's stocking on Christmas morning.
This year we realize just how blessed we were. For the first time Liam wants, no expects, something a bit less simple. He is expecting Santa to bring him a DS. A DS is a hand-held Nintendo gaming system. They start at about $150 but the 3D model is usually closer to $179. I mentioned an expectation. That's because I realized this year that our little guy, who really is not spoiled, expects this gift from Santa. He clearly expects that Santa will just drop down the chimney, eat his cookies and leave a DS. When asked why he expects Santa to bring him what he wants, he replied, "Because he did last year!" Oops, apparently that $40 rocket ship wasn't such a great idea after all.
It occurred to Bill and I that we should set Liam up for disappointment... just in case we could find a good enough sale. "Well... Santa might not bring you a DS. He has to buy presents for millions of little boys and girls out there." and "If Santa doesn't bring you a DS maybe you can use your money to buy one" (this was a complete lie since Liam only has $26).
We're not so worried about Joshua. So far all I could get out of him that he wanted for he holidays was a blanket and more dinosaurs. I'm pretty sure he will have a different answer after he wakes up from his nap. I've settled on a Santa gift of a mega playland (which I found on sale) that includes those portable playhouses and tunnels. It cost $35 but I'm quite sure that to Joshua it will look like a million bucks.
What about this Santa guy bringing gifts to millions of children? As an adult I know the stark reality. Millions of childrens' parents can't afford the rocket, let alone the DS. Millions of children will have no Christmas. If there was a Santa, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be giving out $200 worth of gifts to one child, $20 to another and $2,000 to the kid on the nice side of town.
Do I really want my child to expect this DS? Not at all. And what if he does get the DS from Santa. What will he expect next year since Santa has always given in to his requests? But what if we ignore his request and he finds the Imaginext Medieval Castle instead?
So here we all are in the official holiday shopping season. That what if is why we wait in lines and shop down aisles littered with misplaced, missing toys. It's why we look forlornly at the tag "Buy 1 Transformer Get 2 Free" with rows of empty pegs and it's why we search the nearby shelves for stowaway Transformers (that actually worked last year for me, I found two misplaced Zhu Zhu pets when the rest of the store was sold out after a Black Friday sale). I swear the toy aisles look a lot like someone took a bowling ball and rolled it down each of the shelves.
Okay, so I admit it. This morning when we saw a DS on sale in our price range I sent Bill out to the store to go buy it (after he made me breakfast). As I held that small box in my hand I knew I was setting us up for an even more expensive Christmas of 2012. I knew that Santa would be expected again next year to bring some high tech gadget- possibly next time an iPad or a stereo, Guitar Hero or even a new game system. I knew that in time Joshua would learn the same thing, that he could ask for a bit more than just a blanket and a new dinosaur. That Santa would bring him his wildest dreams- a mega playland (with basket ball net and 50 balls included). Yes, I knew the expectation that this DS would bring to future Christmases. But it's still going to end up next to Liam's stocking on Christmas morning.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
What Did You Have For Dinner?
Maybe you have that horrible memory tucked away. It's that time you threw up in public and barely just got over it now that you're an adult. Lo and behold, now you have children and they're here to remind you, throwing up in public sucks.
My memory of throwing up in public was as a little girl. It must have been winter because I was bundled up. We were at a pizza shop in my hometown. I can tell it's a little girl memory because the amount of puke I recall throwing up is completely and totally impossible. As I recall, it was a massive flood of throw up, luckily all over a wood floor (now that I'm an adult I can appreciate the fact that it wasn't carpeted).
Poor Joshua threw up at a parade. We just didn't see it coming... well except for the fact that he was very sleepy and said he had a belly ache. I just thought he didn't like the parade. But no, it was an actual stomach bug. In our defence, we were preparing to leave, but then he seemed to be happy again. He said he wasn't afraid of the parade anymore and squirmed to get out of the stroller. I sat him down on the curb and immediately knew I had misinterpreted his eagerness to get out. I cleaned up the street as best as I could as Bill tended to our poor misunderstood sweetie behind the crowd and lights. As I carried Joshua (wrapped in a blanket) to the car, I couldn't help but feel just miserable for the little guy. The loud honking, bright lights, blaring music and not to mention the crowds. Plus we weren't exactly close to home and we were facing some serious traffic.
You think I would have learned from my experience as a mom before Joshua came along. We did have Liam after all. I don't recall many specific throw up incidents but neither Bill or I will ever forget the time we took hm out to eat at a decent family restaurant. Seriously, we barely ever left the house and we just wanted a sense of normalcy out to eat with our small family of three. We will never quite know if Liam threw up because he hated the mashed potatoes we fed him or if he now hates mashed potatoes because they made him throw up. But what we do know (in retrospect) is that we should have listened when we put the spoonful in front of him and he shook his head no. We should have listened.
Now I have seen worse cases. After teaching for several years some of the names and faces are starting to blur together. I don't remember which of my boy students was the one to throw up in the garbage can, but I certainly do distinctly remember the face & name of the girl who threw up in her desk (yes, in her desk).
I suppose on the bright side is that now my boys know a little bit better. They know perhaps to face away from the crowd, or under the table. The other bright side is that both incidents occurred before they really knew any better to be embarrassed, unlike a poor 4th Grader . Perhaps the incidents won't scar them for life. On the other hand... I still shudder when I'm back home passing by that pizza shop and Liam still hates mashed potatoes. I wonder what Joshua will say next time we ask him if he wants to go see a parade...
My memory of throwing up in public was as a little girl. It must have been winter because I was bundled up. We were at a pizza shop in my hometown. I can tell it's a little girl memory because the amount of puke I recall throwing up is completely and totally impossible. As I recall, it was a massive flood of throw up, luckily all over a wood floor (now that I'm an adult I can appreciate the fact that it wasn't carpeted).
Poor Joshua threw up at a parade. We just didn't see it coming... well except for the fact that he was very sleepy and said he had a belly ache. I just thought he didn't like the parade. But no, it was an actual stomach bug. In our defence, we were preparing to leave, but then he seemed to be happy again. He said he wasn't afraid of the parade anymore and squirmed to get out of the stroller. I sat him down on the curb and immediately knew I had misinterpreted his eagerness to get out. I cleaned up the street as best as I could as Bill tended to our poor misunderstood sweetie behind the crowd and lights. As I carried Joshua (wrapped in a blanket) to the car, I couldn't help but feel just miserable for the little guy. The loud honking, bright lights, blaring music and not to mention the crowds. Plus we weren't exactly close to home and we were facing some serious traffic.
You think I would have learned from my experience as a mom before Joshua came along. We did have Liam after all. I don't recall many specific throw up incidents but neither Bill or I will ever forget the time we took hm out to eat at a decent family restaurant. Seriously, we barely ever left the house and we just wanted a sense of normalcy out to eat with our small family of three. We will never quite know if Liam threw up because he hated the mashed potatoes we fed him or if he now hates mashed potatoes because they made him throw up. But what we do know (in retrospect) is that we should have listened when we put the spoonful in front of him and he shook his head no. We should have listened.
Now I have seen worse cases. After teaching for several years some of the names and faces are starting to blur together. I don't remember which of my boy students was the one to throw up in the garbage can, but I certainly do distinctly remember the face & name of the girl who threw up in her desk (yes, in her desk).
I suppose on the bright side is that now my boys know a little bit better. They know perhaps to face away from the crowd, or under the table. The other bright side is that both incidents occurred before they really knew any better to be embarrassed, unlike a poor 4th Grader . Perhaps the incidents won't scar them for life. On the other hand... I still shudder when I'm back home passing by that pizza shop and Liam still hates mashed potatoes. I wonder what Joshua will say next time we ask him if he wants to go see a parade...
Friday, November 11, 2011
The Truth About Lying
I'm a liar. Or rather an "omitter of truths" but really, doesn't that actually just mean... I'm a liar? Last night I gave Liam milk with his dinner. It was 1%. We usually get 2% but an unfortunate misunderstanding led to lower fat content (otherwise known as watery milk). Last night we bought the right milk but that still left us with a jug of the skim. Blech. So I did what any other responsible parent would do, I served the skim to Liam without telling him. Now I could spin this by saying it's better for him anyway and he needs to acquire a taste for skim at an early age (unlike his mother and father). But then again, that would be being dishonest to you too. Really I gave Liam the skim because I know we hate the skim but I also hate to waste so someone's got to drink it.
It's not as though this has never happened before, there was the time I gave Liam and Josh the shredded wheat squares instead of the frosted mini wheats (notice the omission of "frosted"). They said they didn't like it because the squares were different sizes... but I knew the truth; that their new mini wheats were lacking that sweet crusty frosting. This morning for breakfast I saw that half full box of shredded mini wheats and decided to try some myself... I regretted my choice immediately. Who ever ate shredded wheat without the frosting (answer: me when I was about 5 years old because my parents tortured me with sugar free cereals and apple juice made in a blender)? And how could they cope with such a tasteless cereal (answer: by pouring on cups of pure sugar and justifying it by saying that real sugar is better than crusty processed cereal frosting).
Lying really is a part of parenting, or rather, omitting the truth is. What do we say when a 5 year old asks how the baby gets into the womb, for example? Well, when confronted with this question I was able to get as far as "the daddy has a sperm and the mommy has an egg" and when they come together, it makes a baby. I was proud of myself for being so honest... until Liam asked how the sperm got inside of the mommy. That's when I decided to omit the rest of the truth (and run away).
Liam brought home a library book called "Benno and the Night of the Broken Glass". I knew as soon as I opened it and read the setting (Berlin, Germany) that this wouldn't be good. It was a book about Kristallnacht (the Night of Broken Glass) from the perspective of a cat. Did I really want to start into a conversation about the holocaust with a 5 year old? Did I want to start that conversation from the perspective of a cat? For the first time when reading a bedtime story to Liam, I found myself reading him a story without a happy ending. There was no way to spin it really except to stop reading, which he didn't want me to do. I think he thought it would all end happily, how could I tell him that after the last page of this book, things actually got so much worse? I've described September 11th before to Liam. Some people might find it hard to describe that event to their children, but I think I did okay. I told him about a group of people called terrorists who wanted to make people in America sad and how they really did smash down buildings. I told him it made everybody very sad.
So what should we honestly tell our children? Should we tell them the truth about marriage equality when they say "only men and women can get married" or should we just smile when a 4 year old tells us that he wants to marry his best friend (also a boy)? Should we tell them the full truth about cigarettes- yes, they cause cancer but they also fell good so sometimes you might see daddy smoking one. Should you have to confess if you take a piece of candy from their jack-o-lanterns after they go to bed? Or what if they notice that Daddy never gets peas on his plate, should you tell them that he hates them, thus risking that they will start to hate peas too? You just never know when you will be confronted with a situation that demands some level of truth. Then the question becomes, not how much of a lie will they buy into, but how much truth can you omit? Yet beware, what you omit today will need to be explained another day. Maybe at bedtime, or at a family party or on a long car ride one afternoon.
It's not as though this has never happened before, there was the time I gave Liam and Josh the shredded wheat squares instead of the frosted mini wheats (notice the omission of "frosted"). They said they didn't like it because the squares were different sizes... but I knew the truth; that their new mini wheats were lacking that sweet crusty frosting. This morning for breakfast I saw that half full box of shredded mini wheats and decided to try some myself... I regretted my choice immediately. Who ever ate shredded wheat without the frosting (answer: me when I was about 5 years old because my parents tortured me with sugar free cereals and apple juice made in a blender)? And how could they cope with such a tasteless cereal (answer: by pouring on cups of pure sugar and justifying it by saying that real sugar is better than crusty processed cereal frosting).
Lying really is a part of parenting, or rather, omitting the truth is. What do we say when a 5 year old asks how the baby gets into the womb, for example? Well, when confronted with this question I was able to get as far as "the daddy has a sperm and the mommy has an egg" and when they come together, it makes a baby. I was proud of myself for being so honest... until Liam asked how the sperm got inside of the mommy. That's when I decided to omit the rest of the truth (and run away).
Liam brought home a library book called "Benno and the Night of the Broken Glass". I knew as soon as I opened it and read the setting (Berlin, Germany) that this wouldn't be good. It was a book about Kristallnacht (the Night of Broken Glass) from the perspective of a cat. Did I really want to start into a conversation about the holocaust with a 5 year old? Did I want to start that conversation from the perspective of a cat? For the first time when reading a bedtime story to Liam, I found myself reading him a story without a happy ending. There was no way to spin it really except to stop reading, which he didn't want me to do. I think he thought it would all end happily, how could I tell him that after the last page of this book, things actually got so much worse? I've described September 11th before to Liam. Some people might find it hard to describe that event to their children, but I think I did okay. I told him about a group of people called terrorists who wanted to make people in America sad and how they really did smash down buildings. I told him it made everybody very sad.
So what should we honestly tell our children? Should we tell them the truth about marriage equality when they say "only men and women can get married" or should we just smile when a 4 year old tells us that he wants to marry his best friend (also a boy)? Should we tell them the full truth about cigarettes- yes, they cause cancer but they also fell good so sometimes you might see daddy smoking one. Should you have to confess if you take a piece of candy from their jack-o-lanterns after they go to bed? Or what if they notice that Daddy never gets peas on his plate, should you tell them that he hates them, thus risking that they will start to hate peas too? You just never know when you will be confronted with a situation that demands some level of truth. Then the question becomes, not how much of a lie will they buy into, but how much truth can you omit? Yet beware, what you omit today will need to be explained another day. Maybe at bedtime, or at a family party or on a long car ride one afternoon.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
How to Make a Haunted House
First you must selectively clean. Pick up anything that is not spooky- like Hungry Hungry Hippo and all of those Melissa & Doug wooden puzzles. Put anything that has potential to be be spooky in a big heaping pile. Be creative with these selections. For example, a cute Raggedy Anne doll can be stuffed into a drawer with her limp hand hanging out. Finally, don't vacuum up the cobwebs that have been collecting along the ceiling in the family room all of these months. Do vacuum up those stupid pink and blue game-of-Life people (they should know better than to venture out of their box anyway). Do vacuum up candy wrappers left from Christmas morning under the couches.
Now that you have cleaned selectively, it's time to create some spooky magic. It may not look spooky at first but part of that is simply covering up. I covered up the play kitchen and even put a curtain in front of our board games and toy shelf. Who needs to see all that cute stuff when you're getting spooked? In fact, get rid of all the family photos too... unless you have photos of ancestors you've never met... chances are those will be black and white and potentially the most scary thing you could put in your haunted house anyway (didn't those people know how to smile)? Cover up mundane things like televisions and coffee tables. Chances are the cobwebs that you have been "saving" won't be sufficient so you will next need to cover walls with as much cobwebs as you can. This is one case where having popcorn ceilings or walls (what were they thinking?) actually comes in handy- no tape needed.
Do not underestimate the need for a tunnel. You must have a tunnel. Last year we used those cute crawl through tunnels that you buy in a store but this year we were afraid of impaling our children since the circular metal pieces started coming loose and sticking out at the entrance and exits. If you are like me and have a hazardous tube or no tubes at all, use blankets liberally to create a tunnel. I've got our blankets crammed between couch cushions and in the coffee table. You don't have to end there with a tunnel. I put yoga mats down for that icky sticky texture (and so I could have an excuse not to do yoga for two weeks while the mats were in use... genius). Under the mats I randomly put pillows to create "hills" in the tunnel. We all have vibrating foot massagers that we've gotten for Christmas. I have a flat one that heats up and glows red. I stuck it under a yoga mat thus creating a spooky red glow in the tunnel, a vibrating yoga mat and a fire hazard all in one! That's what makes a tunnel special; creativity. I'm just hoping we never forget to unplug it after a haunted house showing.
Accessories are next and I suggest spending $100 at your local party store on scary lights, dolls and decorations. Just kidding. In our spooky scary haunted house we have fierce looking toy dinosaurs, Liam's Batman cave (with accessories) and The Ghost Train. Ah yes, The Ghost Train. See, the more we spend on Thomas train sets, the less the boys actually like Thomas train sets and over the years, we have accumulated quite a bit of wooden and plastic train tracks, trains, etc... I am always looking for a good excuse to force the boys to play with these things. The Ghost Train is an excellent opportunity. We used the plastic Trackmaster so the trains could run eerie on their own around the track. With some cut-out ghosts and rubber spiders you can turn your train set into... The Ghost Train! Hmmm... it just occurred to me that parents of girls may have a hard time with this haunted house thing. I've seen some of those girl toys... you may have to be more creative like a spider infested Barbie Dream House or a gross-out play kitchen with bat soup and snake cake. The other advantage to using toys as accessories is that your haunted house is small so it will only take about 5 minutes for kids to get through it. With other toys, they will keep busy longer.
Here's another way to weasel out free or cheap decorations for your haunted house: Christmas garlands and toilet paper from the ceiling! I added a small fan in the corner to make the garlands sway a bit. Also feel free to use any odd decorations you have around the house that don't match with the nicer decorations you own (ex: random needlepoint ghosts, wooden figurines you never had time to paint, etc...).
Set the mood with lighting and horrible sounding music. A strobe light works great for a spooky effect but that won't be enough light for the kids to see all of the detailed work you put into the haunted house. You will also need to give each child a flashlight or one of those headlamps. For spooky music you can use a CD or the spooky Halloween music channel on TV (cover the TV to create an eerie glow). Also add musical instruments to your haunted house for that horrible sounding music I mentioned. A mini-piano, keyboard or xylophone will do the trick along with a drum and maybe even an annoying whistle... okay never mind with the annoying whistle, the piano will suffice.
We made our haunted house this weekend and the boys have spent each evening down there playing. They play with lights on or off, they fine tune their creation, reposing the dinosaurs so that they each have a turn getting eaten by the big one. They play their music and crawl through the tunnel. I was really cranky when we set it up. "Why won't anyone help me?", "Stop stepping on the tunnel", "Where are all the Batman toys?", "Could you just help me with this cobweb?" and then I realized, wow setting up this haunted house is a lot like setting up the Christmas tree... the set-up is part of the tradition and the holiday spirit. So what if it's all that work for only a couple of weeks and so what if not many people see it, it's offered endless entertainment and something a bit out of the ordinary for the kids for a short time during the year. Pretty soon the haunted house will be all packed up and in its place that Christmas tree. The garlands will be re-purposed on the mantle and who knows? Maybe I'll even set up the Thomas train in a little winter wonderland scene
Now that you have cleaned selectively, it's time to create some spooky magic. It may not look spooky at first but part of that is simply covering up. I covered up the play kitchen and even put a curtain in front of our board games and toy shelf. Who needs to see all that cute stuff when you're getting spooked? In fact, get rid of all the family photos too... unless you have photos of ancestors you've never met... chances are those will be black and white and potentially the most scary thing you could put in your haunted house anyway (didn't those people know how to smile)? Cover up mundane things like televisions and coffee tables. Chances are the cobwebs that you have been "saving" won't be sufficient so you will next need to cover walls with as much cobwebs as you can. This is one case where having popcorn ceilings or walls (what were they thinking?) actually comes in handy- no tape needed.
Do not underestimate the need for a tunnel. You must have a tunnel. Last year we used those cute crawl through tunnels that you buy in a store but this year we were afraid of impaling our children since the circular metal pieces started coming loose and sticking out at the entrance and exits. If you are like me and have a hazardous tube or no tubes at all, use blankets liberally to create a tunnel. I've got our blankets crammed between couch cushions and in the coffee table. You don't have to end there with a tunnel. I put yoga mats down for that icky sticky texture (and so I could have an excuse not to do yoga for two weeks while the mats were in use... genius). Under the mats I randomly put pillows to create "hills" in the tunnel. We all have vibrating foot massagers that we've gotten for Christmas. I have a flat one that heats up and glows red. I stuck it under a yoga mat thus creating a spooky red glow in the tunnel, a vibrating yoga mat and a fire hazard all in one! That's what makes a tunnel special; creativity. I'm just hoping we never forget to unplug it after a haunted house showing.
Accessories are next and I suggest spending $100 at your local party store on scary lights, dolls and decorations. Just kidding. In our spooky scary haunted house we have fierce looking toy dinosaurs, Liam's Batman cave (with accessories) and The Ghost Train. Ah yes, The Ghost Train. See, the more we spend on Thomas train sets, the less the boys actually like Thomas train sets and over the years, we have accumulated quite a bit of wooden and plastic train tracks, trains, etc... I am always looking for a good excuse to force the boys to play with these things. The Ghost Train is an excellent opportunity. We used the plastic Trackmaster so the trains could run eerie on their own around the track. With some cut-out ghosts and rubber spiders you can turn your train set into... The Ghost Train! Hmmm... it just occurred to me that parents of girls may have a hard time with this haunted house thing. I've seen some of those girl toys... you may have to be more creative like a spider infested Barbie Dream House or a gross-out play kitchen with bat soup and snake cake. The other advantage to using toys as accessories is that your haunted house is small so it will only take about 5 minutes for kids to get through it. With other toys, they will keep busy longer.
Here's another way to weasel out free or cheap decorations for your haunted house: Christmas garlands and toilet paper from the ceiling! I added a small fan in the corner to make the garlands sway a bit. Also feel free to use any odd decorations you have around the house that don't match with the nicer decorations you own (ex: random needlepoint ghosts, wooden figurines you never had time to paint, etc...).
Set the mood with lighting and horrible sounding music. A strobe light works great for a spooky effect but that won't be enough light for the kids to see all of the detailed work you put into the haunted house. You will also need to give each child a flashlight or one of those headlamps. For spooky music you can use a CD or the spooky Halloween music channel on TV (cover the TV to create an eerie glow). Also add musical instruments to your haunted house for that horrible sounding music I mentioned. A mini-piano, keyboard or xylophone will do the trick along with a drum and maybe even an annoying whistle... okay never mind with the annoying whistle, the piano will suffice.
We made our haunted house this weekend and the boys have spent each evening down there playing. They play with lights on or off, they fine tune their creation, reposing the dinosaurs so that they each have a turn getting eaten by the big one. They play their music and crawl through the tunnel. I was really cranky when we set it up. "Why won't anyone help me?", "Stop stepping on the tunnel", "Where are all the Batman toys?", "Could you just help me with this cobweb?" and then I realized, wow setting up this haunted house is a lot like setting up the Christmas tree... the set-up is part of the tradition and the holiday spirit. So what if it's all that work for only a couple of weeks and so what if not many people see it, it's offered endless entertainment and something a bit out of the ordinary for the kids for a short time during the year. Pretty soon the haunted house will be all packed up and in its place that Christmas tree. The garlands will be re-purposed on the mantle and who knows? Maybe I'll even set up the Thomas train in a little winter wonderland scene
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Clothes Karma
I don't deserve nice pants. It's a fact and I've had to learn that the hard way. Last year my sister, Lori, got me Ann Taylor pants... and they were pink. At first I wondered what I would wear with pink pants and then I discovered a world of brown and white tops that coordinated perfectly especially when paired with a delicate scarf that tied all of the colors together. Sigh. I was in love.
See, we don't often get nice things for ourselves, now do we. You can spend top dollar on a new dining room table but... in a few months it's going to be all scratched up. Clothes are even more subject to wear and tear and there is just no avoiding it.
After I got my pink pants I became inspired to keep shopping. So 8 months later I went out to spend my left over Christmas money (4 months after Christmas). This time I was spending my own money so I stuck to the discount stores but quickly became frustrated. Then I discovered... Target. Oooh. The clothes were super cool and they looked so much like those designer clothes. What I loved the most was the fact that I didn't have to go searching through racks and racks of clothes with a crazy variety of incorrectly labeled pants. I mean, Target is super fancy. The slacks are hanging with the slacks, capris with the capris and jeans with the jeans. Different colors were even hanging separately. This was terrific news because I was running low on time for my mommy-shopping-night. On a side note- I hear these stories about kids getting lost in clothing racks, I've been there- both as the kid inside the rack and as a mom trying to pull the kid out. Based on actual experiences I've come to the conclusion that there is no way I will leave the store with the right pair of jeans if I am shopping with children... so it's best to leave them at home in front of a television set (just kidding, Bill plans enriching activities for them while I'm gone). I left Target with a cute t-shirt, a pair of capris and a new pair of black ballet flats. They had a distinctively cheap black plastic finish on them but they were very cute. So what if they didn't come with a shoe box and they were instead held together by an elastic band.
It didn't take long for me to see the error in my ways. The hem came loose immediately on my new capris so that they kind of could pass as pirate pants. By mid-summer I realized the shoes were embarrasingly cheap. The plastic actually started peeling off of the shoe. Here's the thing about the shoes though- they actually cost $20. Now this is cheap if you're comparing the cost to real fancy shoes but I'm used to shopping at those discount stores where $20 can actually buy you a pair of last season's fancy shoes. I'm actually a fairly smart shopper, I do keep a look out for good deals on specific brands so imagine my frustration when I try to save time by spending only slightly less on a pair of trendy Target shoes and... peeling pleather.
I put my Target shopping experience aside and moved on to summer garage sales :) I will not disclose what I actually purchased at garage sales but next time you see me in a nice sweater think... could that be the sweater she picked up for a buck or was it the one she wore yesterday (or both?). The beginning of the school year started and with it, every teacher's favorite part of starting the school year: chalk, dry erase markers and trying to get glue out of the glue containers.
I don't know how it happened. I don't know why it had to be the blue marker and I certainly don't know why I had chosen to wear the pink pants to school that day, but somehow I ended up with a small dot of dry erase marker on my pink Ann Taylor pants. They weren't the Target capris, mind you. They were the pink Ann Taylor pants. I tried to apply and reapply water and soap throughout the day hoping to coax the stain out but apparently (a) dry erase markers are unwashable and (b) everyone at work thought I looked funny with a big water spot on my pants all day.
"Oh,"said my sympathetic sister, "those were probably the only pants you owned that were bought at full price." Well, to be fair, I did pay full price for the Target capris.
It wasn't long after that Bill and I went out to fancy Chinese restaurant... you know, those places that actually give you plates have soy sauce in a glass pitcher at the table. Real fancy- I had a coupon. After dinner we had a little bit of time to kill since the kids were happy at home without us, with their grandmother & great-grandmother. It was then that I discovered... the outlet store. I've been to outlet stores... but this outlet store was having a super sale (it said so in the window). "Maybe they'll have pink pants!" I said to Bill. And, because Bill would like nothing more than to go shopping with me on our regularly scheduled (once-every-two-and-a-half-month-date-night), he agreed.
I walked out 45 minutes later with a bag containing 3 pairs of pants. I had spent $33. The total value of all pants (based on original prices) was over $250. Perhaps most importantly, one of the pairs of pants was a lovely lavendar color. Perfect with brown and white and, miraculously, still able to be worn with that delicate scarf to tie all of the colors together. And while I did love those full price Ann Taylor pants, I couldn't help but love my new lavendar pants just as much... and maybe more because they only cost $3.40 (originally $79.99).
See, we don't often get nice things for ourselves, now do we. You can spend top dollar on a new dining room table but... in a few months it's going to be all scratched up. Clothes are even more subject to wear and tear and there is just no avoiding it.
After I got my pink pants I became inspired to keep shopping. So 8 months later I went out to spend my left over Christmas money (4 months after Christmas). This time I was spending my own money so I stuck to the discount stores but quickly became frustrated. Then I discovered... Target. Oooh. The clothes were super cool and they looked so much like those designer clothes. What I loved the most was the fact that I didn't have to go searching through racks and racks of clothes with a crazy variety of incorrectly labeled pants. I mean, Target is super fancy. The slacks are hanging with the slacks, capris with the capris and jeans with the jeans. Different colors were even hanging separately. This was terrific news because I was running low on time for my mommy-shopping-night. On a side note- I hear these stories about kids getting lost in clothing racks, I've been there- both as the kid inside the rack and as a mom trying to pull the kid out. Based on actual experiences I've come to the conclusion that there is no way I will leave the store with the right pair of jeans if I am shopping with children... so it's best to leave them at home in front of a television set (just kidding, Bill plans enriching activities for them while I'm gone). I left Target with a cute t-shirt, a pair of capris and a new pair of black ballet flats. They had a distinctively cheap black plastic finish on them but they were very cute. So what if they didn't come with a shoe box and they were instead held together by an elastic band.
It didn't take long for me to see the error in my ways. The hem came loose immediately on my new capris so that they kind of could pass as pirate pants. By mid-summer I realized the shoes were embarrasingly cheap. The plastic actually started peeling off of the shoe. Here's the thing about the shoes though- they actually cost $20. Now this is cheap if you're comparing the cost to real fancy shoes but I'm used to shopping at those discount stores where $20 can actually buy you a pair of last season's fancy shoes. I'm actually a fairly smart shopper, I do keep a look out for good deals on specific brands so imagine my frustration when I try to save time by spending only slightly less on a pair of trendy Target shoes and... peeling pleather.
I put my Target shopping experience aside and moved on to summer garage sales :) I will not disclose what I actually purchased at garage sales but next time you see me in a nice sweater think... could that be the sweater she picked up for a buck or was it the one she wore yesterday (or both?). The beginning of the school year started and with it, every teacher's favorite part of starting the school year: chalk, dry erase markers and trying to get glue out of the glue containers.
I don't know how it happened. I don't know why it had to be the blue marker and I certainly don't know why I had chosen to wear the pink pants to school that day, but somehow I ended up with a small dot of dry erase marker on my pink Ann Taylor pants. They weren't the Target capris, mind you. They were the pink Ann Taylor pants. I tried to apply and reapply water and soap throughout the day hoping to coax the stain out but apparently (a) dry erase markers are unwashable and (b) everyone at work thought I looked funny with a big water spot on my pants all day.
"Oh,"said my sympathetic sister, "those were probably the only pants you owned that were bought at full price." Well, to be fair, I did pay full price for the Target capris.
It wasn't long after that Bill and I went out to fancy Chinese restaurant... you know, those places that actually give you plates have soy sauce in a glass pitcher at the table. Real fancy- I had a coupon. After dinner we had a little bit of time to kill since the kids were happy at home without us, with their grandmother & great-grandmother. It was then that I discovered... the outlet store. I've been to outlet stores... but this outlet store was having a super sale (it said so in the window). "Maybe they'll have pink pants!" I said to Bill. And, because Bill would like nothing more than to go shopping with me on our regularly scheduled (once-every-two-and-a-half-month-date-night), he agreed.
I walked out 45 minutes later with a bag containing 3 pairs of pants. I had spent $33. The total value of all pants (based on original prices) was over $250. Perhaps most importantly, one of the pairs of pants was a lovely lavendar color. Perfect with brown and white and, miraculously, still able to be worn with that delicate scarf to tie all of the colors together. And while I did love those full price Ann Taylor pants, I couldn't help but love my new lavendar pants just as much... and maybe more because they only cost $3.40 (originally $79.99).
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Worst Best Mom: Revisited... Again
Perhaps some of you may be thinking that I am a candidate for the Best-of-the-Best Mom list but I assure you, my position of worst of the best must stand. True, I do help Liam with science experiments and true, I do stand behind Joshua any time he climbs up a steep playground ladder. These things alone may make you inclined to think I'm simply the best at what I do. However, I have evidence to the contrary that proves without a sliver of a doubt that I'm not too great at being a good mom. Here is what I've come up with so far...
1) I missed Liam's first picture day... his KINDERGARTEN picture day. I know the picture will come out bad, with him pressing his lip back into a false lipless grin... but that's a picture I just want to treasure. Plus I know he was looking forward to wearing his new shirt and tie so I kind of feel bad for that too. Now he'll have to dress up on a day that no one else is dressed up and there's a serious chance that he'll look ridiculous and/or will get paint on his tie because inevitably it will end up being an Art day.
2) Tonight at dinner I accidentally served both boys rotten applesauce. To be fair, it wasn't moldy or anything but after they had both finished their first serving and were begging for more I realized there was an overpowering scent of fermented apple sauce in the air. Gross.
3) Tonight at bed time I accidentally scratched Liam under his eye with my thumb nail. I had bitten off my right hand's thumb nail earlier this week so imagine my surprise when the left thumb nail, still razor sharp and long (but not in a pretty long-nail way), ended up somehow gouging my poor child under his eyeball. And now he's bleeding!
4) I'm considering not getting my kids flu shots this year.
5) I'm considering getting my kids flu shots this year.
6) The other day when I was trying not to yell at Liam for poor behavior in school, I ended up blurting out, "Well everytime you get in the red zone, you miss part of your playtime and that sounds pretty stupid." To which Liam responded, "What's stupid?" What I should have said was: "Your mother." What I ended up saying was, "Stupid is making bad choices." Not really correct, actually it's a pretty stupid definition... of stupid.
7) I bought Liam and Joshua light sabres but didn't really want any play fighting going on. Hmmm... can you say, "Stupid mom"?
8) Sometimes (lots of times) Liam leaves the house without brushing his teeth. I know, gross right?
9) I don't let my kids win at games. We played Uno Moo last night as a family (really cute) and I didn't let my kids win. Full disclosure: they won anyway, but they won fair and square. Liam has been playing tic-tac-toe the last few nights and I have won almost every round... until finally I lost a round. I'd like to think this made him feel good about himself, that he finally won the behemoth... or maybe I just don't like to lose?
10) Quite often at night, after the children have gone to bed, I make their favorite snack... popcorn... but eat the whole bowl myself. I have an air popper. Maybe I'll pop some for myself right now and throw in a few extra kernals for the kids' snack tomorrow. Maybe.
1) I missed Liam's first picture day... his KINDERGARTEN picture day. I know the picture will come out bad, with him pressing his lip back into a false lipless grin... but that's a picture I just want to treasure. Plus I know he was looking forward to wearing his new shirt and tie so I kind of feel bad for that too. Now he'll have to dress up on a day that no one else is dressed up and there's a serious chance that he'll look ridiculous and/or will get paint on his tie because inevitably it will end up being an Art day.
2) Tonight at dinner I accidentally served both boys rotten applesauce. To be fair, it wasn't moldy or anything but after they had both finished their first serving and were begging for more I realized there was an overpowering scent of fermented apple sauce in the air. Gross.
3) Tonight at bed time I accidentally scratched Liam under his eye with my thumb nail. I had bitten off my right hand's thumb nail earlier this week so imagine my surprise when the left thumb nail, still razor sharp and long (but not in a pretty long-nail way), ended up somehow gouging my poor child under his eyeball. And now he's bleeding!
4) I'm considering not getting my kids flu shots this year.
5) I'm considering getting my kids flu shots this year.
6) The other day when I was trying not to yell at Liam for poor behavior in school, I ended up blurting out, "Well everytime you get in the red zone, you miss part of your playtime and that sounds pretty stupid." To which Liam responded, "What's stupid?" What I should have said was: "Your mother." What I ended up saying was, "Stupid is making bad choices." Not really correct, actually it's a pretty stupid definition... of stupid.
7) I bought Liam and Joshua light sabres but didn't really want any play fighting going on. Hmmm... can you say, "Stupid mom"?
8) Sometimes (lots of times) Liam leaves the house without brushing his teeth. I know, gross right?
9) I don't let my kids win at games. We played Uno Moo last night as a family (really cute) and I didn't let my kids win. Full disclosure: they won anyway, but they won fair and square. Liam has been playing tic-tac-toe the last few nights and I have won almost every round... until finally I lost a round. I'd like to think this made him feel good about himself, that he finally won the behemoth... or maybe I just don't like to lose?
10) Quite often at night, after the children have gone to bed, I make their favorite snack... popcorn... but eat the whole bowl myself. I have an air popper. Maybe I'll pop some for myself right now and throw in a few extra kernals for the kids' snack tomorrow. Maybe.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Terrible Toilet Talk
We have been horribly disgusting in our house. We talk about poopy and wee wee and all sorts of bad stuff. But in our defence, it is a hot topic for a reason. First of all, we're in the battle of a lifetime with Joshua who has no interest in continuing his basic potty training. Second, Liam has started a new craze. He loves it when we read him Captain Underpants by Dav Pilkey. We started with #2 Attack of the Talking Toilets and now we've back-tracked to the first book in the series. The premise is that there are two misfit elementary school boys with no conscious (either of them) but shockingly intelligent senses of humor. These two kids would do great on the show Jack-Ass- that is making up the stunts and then getting out of the way while the stars do inflict pain on themselves. And really, since they're fictional children I really can say they are Jack-Asses. They pull pranks like putting pepper in the cheerleader's pom poms and somehow persuading cafeteria ladies to mix baking soda and vinegar to make cupcakes (kind of far fetched to assume lunch ladies don't know enough about cooking to catch that error... or is it?). Anyway, they also know how to write and illustrate- now that is something that as an educator I can appreciate :) . So they write comics about Captain Underpants a superhero in tighty whities. Next we're moving on to The Wicked Wedgie Woman and eventually we'll get to the much anticipated... Professor Poopypants.
Now I've been calling both of my boys "Professor Poopypants" for as long as they've been pooping and insisting that I be the one to clean it up. But up until now it has had little significance. Still, to be honest, I doubt they know what the "professor" in "Professor Poopypants" means, except that it sounds ridiculous... and gross.
Recently the boys have been alternating in their inability to look at a camera and smile. Liam will look and then roll back his upper lip to reveal only teeth in a freakish jack-o-lantern smile but then Josh will turn his head and say something like "Roar!" instead of looking at the camera. Or Josh will look at the camera with a mope and Liam will whip his head with his eyes closed. So if I really do want them both looking and giving me an actual smile, I must resort to "Professor Poopypants" and thus far, the trick hasn't failed me. Embarrassed me in public, yes, but failed me, no. And once the pictures are developed, who cares if there's someone in the background of the shot giving us a dirty look? More times than not, they're actually giggling too because there are very few people who can hear "Professor Poopypants" and not crack at least a little smile (try it, I dare you).
Is this acceptable in public? I mean, can kids talk about poopypants, diapers, farts and peeing at a place such as a dinner table? Or perhaps a better question, is there really any better place to talk of such things? Now that I recall, Bill and his brothers have been grossing out guests at their family Thanksgiving table looong before any babies were born. So perhaps it shouldn't surprise me now that all Liam & Joshua and their friends want to talk about at the table is... poopypants, diapers, farts and peeing or variations thereof. Also, apparently it's not enough to say these things, you must say them loudly so everyone can hear and then laugh so hard they snort milk out of their noses. So here's my take on this... I've found that some of my personal philosophy has become more malleable (translate: picking battles which can be translated into: being lazy)... it depends on the company? The first time "pooping" was brought up at a playdate, I did suggest that it wasn't a great topic but ... eventually I let it go because everyone else was. So now that's the hot topic at playdates because apparently if any one of us decided to stick their their original philosophy of no potty talk at the table, they gave up like me (resistance is futile!). But if poopytalk were to occur in other circles... eh, we'd probably have to put the kabosh in it, which would be no fun at all.
But back to pooping. Here's a tip for all you parents of kids with diapers: If you're kid is walking around like he/she has a wedgie, he/she may actually have a wedgie and you may want to take care of the "problem" before the poopsplosion comes (I made that word up, it's not from Captain U, I swear. I doubt a real author would be able to make up a word with 4 consonants in a row anyway). My sister was lamenting that she had no other option but to change her one year old baby on a public restroom changing table. We were at a fancy resort. She was staying overnight but her room wasn't ready (thus the unfortunate changing table) and I was just visiting for lunch which is my way of hanging out with the fancypantses even though I can't afford to spend the night! At any rate, after she fussed over the germs on the surface, using a changing pad from home and a few paper towels for a pillow, I washed off those little fingers with an extra wipey and he was on his way. Then it was Joshua's turn. He was plopped down bare-assedWhatevs. Unscathed, we walked back to the rest of our party down a long hallway, stopping to look at a nature exhibit and peek into the library (my sister needed a private place to nurse later on since the room wasn't ready). That's when we noticed how silly he was walking down the hallway "like he had a wedgie". Yeah, he actually did have a wedgie. Big mistake... BIG mistake.
After a lovely afternoon mini putt-putting (that has nothing to do with pooping, we were actually golfing), walking in the gardens, feeding the fishies, sipping tea and perusing the gift shop I realized that Joshua was a little stinker. Really, a little stinker. So I exited with Josh as Liam went down to feed more fish. Carrying Joshua down to the bathroom, I realized there was some leakage. This wasn't good. His other pants were parked in the car- not close by (too cheap for valet). Hmmmm... Back to the bathroom with the changing table with no changing pad. Poopsplosion. And why? Because the diaper was only covering one of his cheeks.
You know how it always happens; you go into a perfectly empty space to do something private and then people end up being right there, flocking to the exact location where you are trying to complete your private deed? Well, there I was with a disgusting diaper... an external disgusting diaper mess... and suddenly there was someone sitting right behind me in a chair behind the changing table (I could have sat in her lap) and masses of people overtook the sinks... those sinks with precious water and soap and paper towels that I needed. Did I mention I had no cell phone? Did I mention my little professor poopypants over here thought the whole thing was hilarious and was kicking his legs and wiggling his butt to and fro?
I got rid of the evidence like a pro, forced a diaper on Joshua, wiped down the changing table and plopped him down in the chair that the lady had apparently gotten up from (what better hint do you need then someone's ass in your face and a stink of poop wafting at you head on?). I set to work at Joshua's pants with some wet paper towels and soap but we all know it was a cob job, the best I could do in the situation. I can decisively say we both washed our hands thoroughly this time! Nonchalantly we set back out into the fancy hotel, Joshua with a wet pants butt that he couldn't feel (thanks to his fresh new diaper), me with frizzed out hair and the appearance of someone who was thoroughly defeated. We walked atop the beautiful Victorian carpet past the detailed wood-work, the luxuriously padded furniture, the classical music drifting through the air... and it was time to go home.
My sister walked us to the car and when we got there, I gave her the best advice that I could ever really offer her... "On second thought, don't use those restroom changing tables after all."
Now I've been calling both of my boys "Professor Poopypants" for as long as they've been pooping and insisting that I be the one to clean it up. But up until now it has had little significance. Still, to be honest, I doubt they know what the "professor" in "Professor Poopypants" means, except that it sounds ridiculous... and gross.
Recently the boys have been alternating in their inability to look at a camera and smile. Liam will look and then roll back his upper lip to reveal only teeth in a freakish jack-o-lantern smile but then Josh will turn his head and say something like "Roar!" instead of looking at the camera. Or Josh will look at the camera with a mope and Liam will whip his head with his eyes closed. So if I really do want them both looking and giving me an actual smile, I must resort to "Professor Poopypants" and thus far, the trick hasn't failed me. Embarrassed me in public, yes, but failed me, no. And once the pictures are developed, who cares if there's someone in the background of the shot giving us a dirty look? More times than not, they're actually giggling too because there are very few people who can hear "Professor Poopypants" and not crack at least a little smile (try it, I dare you).
Is this acceptable in public? I mean, can kids talk about poopypants, diapers, farts and peeing at a place such as a dinner table? Or perhaps a better question, is there really any better place to talk of such things? Now that I recall, Bill and his brothers have been grossing out guests at their family Thanksgiving table looong before any babies were born. So perhaps it shouldn't surprise me now that all Liam & Joshua and their friends want to talk about at the table is... poopypants, diapers, farts and peeing or variations thereof. Also, apparently it's not enough to say these things, you must say them loudly so everyone can hear and then laugh so hard they snort milk out of their noses. So here's my take on this... I've found that some of my personal philosophy has become more malleable (translate: picking battles which can be translated into: being lazy)... it depends on the company? The first time "pooping" was brought up at a playdate, I did suggest that it wasn't a great topic but ... eventually I let it go because everyone else was. So now that's the hot topic at playdates because apparently if any one of us decided to stick their their original philosophy of no potty talk at the table, they gave up like me (resistance is futile!). But if poopytalk were to occur in other circles... eh, we'd probably have to put the kabosh in it, which would be no fun at all.
But back to pooping. Here's a tip for all you parents of kids with diapers: If you're kid is walking around like he/she has a wedgie, he/she may actually have a wedgie and you may want to take care of the "problem" before the poopsplosion comes (I made that word up, it's not from Captain U, I swear. I doubt a real author would be able to make up a word with 4 consonants in a row anyway). My sister was lamenting that she had no other option but to change her one year old baby on a public restroom changing table. We were at a fancy resort. She was staying overnight but her room wasn't ready (thus the unfortunate changing table) and I was just visiting for lunch which is my way of hanging out with the fancypantses even though I can't afford to spend the night! At any rate, after she fussed over the germs on the surface, using a changing pad from home and a few paper towels for a pillow, I washed off those little fingers with an extra wipey and he was on his way. Then it was Joshua's turn. He was plopped down bare-assedWhatevs. Unscathed, we walked back to the rest of our party down a long hallway, stopping to look at a nature exhibit and peek into the library (my sister needed a private place to nurse later on since the room wasn't ready). That's when we noticed how silly he was walking down the hallway "like he had a wedgie". Yeah, he actually did have a wedgie. Big mistake... BIG mistake.
After a lovely afternoon mini putt-putting (that has nothing to do with pooping, we were actually golfing), walking in the gardens, feeding the fishies, sipping tea and perusing the gift shop I realized that Joshua was a little stinker. Really, a little stinker. So I exited with Josh as Liam went down to feed more fish. Carrying Joshua down to the bathroom, I realized there was some leakage. This wasn't good. His other pants were parked in the car- not close by (too cheap for valet). Hmmmm... Back to the bathroom with the changing table with no changing pad. Poopsplosion. And why? Because the diaper was only covering one of his cheeks.
You know how it always happens; you go into a perfectly empty space to do something private and then people end up being right there, flocking to the exact location where you are trying to complete your private deed? Well, there I was with a disgusting diaper... an external disgusting diaper mess... and suddenly there was someone sitting right behind me in a chair behind the changing table (I could have sat in her lap) and masses of people overtook the sinks... those sinks with precious water and soap and paper towels that I needed. Did I mention I had no cell phone? Did I mention my little professor poopypants over here thought the whole thing was hilarious and was kicking his legs and wiggling his butt to and fro?
I got rid of the evidence like a pro, forced a diaper on Joshua, wiped down the changing table and plopped him down in the chair that the lady had apparently gotten up from (what better hint do you need then someone's ass in your face and a stink of poop wafting at you head on?). I set to work at Joshua's pants with some wet paper towels and soap but we all know it was a cob job, the best I could do in the situation. I can decisively say we both washed our hands thoroughly this time! Nonchalantly we set back out into the fancy hotel, Joshua with a wet pants butt that he couldn't feel (thanks to his fresh new diaper), me with frizzed out hair and the appearance of someone who was thoroughly defeated. We walked atop the beautiful Victorian carpet past the detailed wood-work, the luxuriously padded furniture, the classical music drifting through the air... and it was time to go home.
My sister walked us to the car and when we got there, I gave her the best advice that I could ever really offer her... "On second thought, don't use those restroom changing tables after all."
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Give Me A Break
Many people don't know this but teachers do quite a bit of work off the clock. For example, throughout the month of August you will see a trickle of teachers returning to their classrooms to dust off bookshelves, put up bulletin boards and plan for the first few weeks. We stock the students' desks, rearrange the classroom and even meet up with families. I was on my way to school on a Saturday for just one of these off the clock work sessions when I got a call from my mother. She said, "I know you have a lot of work to do today, but please take a break for yourself." And although the request was completely rational and kind-hearted, I couldn't help but get defensive. What's a break? True, I just finished a summer "off" but then why was my house even messier now at the end of August than it had been in June? Even though I wasn't working all summer, I wouldn't exactly say I was on "break". Whether you're a mom, a teacher or any number of other jobs and particularly if you are both, there's really no rest for the weary.
What exactly did my well-meaning mother think I would be doing if not back at school? Would I be at a spa getting a pedicure? Not since the morning of my wedding. Would I be at lunch with a friend? Only if we both had our kids with us, distracting them from misbehaving by giving them extra syrup on their pancakes. Would I be exercising? Only if by exercising you mean Liam sitting on my butt while I try to do downward facing dog while Joshua pulls my hair. No; a break from school for me would just mean being back at home wondering how it's possible that the kids mess up the house faster than I can clean it and me trying to get work done (like making those cute desk name tags) while Joshua sits on the final product.
Actually for the time being- in late summer and early fall- school is actually a break for me. A predictable order of events (until those unpredictable kids show up)!
These days I'll settle for just about any form of a break. Today I went to get my haircut. My last haircut was in March. It's not too far fetched for someone to relax while getting their hair washed, true, but I actually also look forward to dentist appointments because they give me a chance to recline and relax. Hey, if I have a cavity, it's even more time off. I'll even close my eyes. I knew I really needed a break when I felt relaxed while having my eyebrows waxed. And I did have a break just before school started... at my allergy testing appointment. Hey, I didn't have the share the remote or anything. And they gave me a great pillow to rest my arms on. So what if I was a little bit itchy! And earlier this week I had yet another break (seriously, do I ever get work done?) when I went, by myself, to vote and afterwards stop off at the pharmacy for Caladryl for Liam's bug bites. It was like going on a date... with myself.
Truly being a mom is rewarding and I do admit, it's quite relaxing in those moments when I'm able to set aside my own work to just watch my kids play together. Family events too can be relaxing. Picking apples, going to a fair, having a picnic in the park- all of this can be relaxing if I'm in the right mind-set. But really being a mom requires that we find creative ways to relax. Whether or not your mother tells you to relax, you can probably find time to schedule another dentist appointment. And when you do, ask them if they wouldn't mind reclining your chair a little further back and putting on some soothing music.
What exactly did my well-meaning mother think I would be doing if not back at school? Would I be at a spa getting a pedicure? Not since the morning of my wedding. Would I be at lunch with a friend? Only if we both had our kids with us, distracting them from misbehaving by giving them extra syrup on their pancakes. Would I be exercising? Only if by exercising you mean Liam sitting on my butt while I try to do downward facing dog while Joshua pulls my hair. No; a break from school for me would just mean being back at home wondering how it's possible that the kids mess up the house faster than I can clean it and me trying to get work done (like making those cute desk name tags) while Joshua sits on the final product.
Actually for the time being- in late summer and early fall- school is actually a break for me. A predictable order of events (until those unpredictable kids show up)!
These days I'll settle for just about any form of a break. Today I went to get my haircut. My last haircut was in March. It's not too far fetched for someone to relax while getting their hair washed, true, but I actually also look forward to dentist appointments because they give me a chance to recline and relax. Hey, if I have a cavity, it's even more time off. I'll even close my eyes. I knew I really needed a break when I felt relaxed while having my eyebrows waxed. And I did have a break just before school started... at my allergy testing appointment. Hey, I didn't have the share the remote or anything. And they gave me a great pillow to rest my arms on. So what if I was a little bit itchy! And earlier this week I had yet another break (seriously, do I ever get work done?) when I went, by myself, to vote and afterwards stop off at the pharmacy for Caladryl for Liam's bug bites. It was like going on a date... with myself.
Truly being a mom is rewarding and I do admit, it's quite relaxing in those moments when I'm able to set aside my own work to just watch my kids play together. Family events too can be relaxing. Picking apples, going to a fair, having a picnic in the park- all of this can be relaxing if I'm in the right mind-set. But really being a mom requires that we find creative ways to relax. Whether or not your mother tells you to relax, you can probably find time to schedule another dentist appointment. And when you do, ask them if they wouldn't mind reclining your chair a little further back and putting on some soothing music.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Milestones
"Liam started Kindergarten already? Did you cry?" No. No, I did not. And I didn't think I would either. For whatever reason, I'm just not emotional about these milestones. No, that's completely wrong. I am emotional but shedding tears isn't the right emotion for me.
First off, I have proof that I am emotional. I cried at the end of The Help, The Time Traveller's Wife, Life As We Know It and I cried buckets when I watched Jersey Girl. I also cry when there's just too much to handle in life, when my "cup runneth over" if you will. And just for the record, I cried relentlessly for a week after my pet ferret died unexpectedly.
So why am I not emotional about Liam into Kindergarten. Hmmm... maybe it's not a lack of emotion but rather a difference in emotion. I've never been one to be sad at big occasions. I don't think I cried at graduation, but I'm pretty sure my stomach did a flip and I got goosebumps. Moments like those are part of life. Rather than being sad about college being over, why not get excited about what comes next? I'm not saying I wasn't sad to see my friends go and to abandon the life of less responsibility (who am I kidding, I was more responsible in college than most 30 year olds are living on their own). I was sad to close that chapter but like all chapters that came before it and after, I knew it was just part of life and that the next experience was just around the corner. Hmmm... maybe if I knew how mundane everyday life can possibly get at times, I would have been more sad! And probably if I knew the gravity of work in a real world classroom (versus student teaching and always having that experienced teacher to catch you if you fall or grade those papers you forgot on your desk)
I would have longed to stay put in the world of essays, projects and mid-terms. I know at all of these major milestones: graduation, wedding, baby shower,... I have been excited and nervous. I know when I got my own classroom I was scared. But sadness, no. I didn't cry at my wedding and I probably won't cry at Liam's (well, maybe I will cry at Liam's wedding).
Here's the other side of it. I have happy memories of the boys as babies but do I wish they were still babies? Not really. I think if Liam became a baby again- even if it was just for a day- I'd go crazy trying to talk to him about the scientific principals of the water cycle and not quite getting why he wasn't responding. That might not make sense. My point is that I'm not willing to turn back the clock (not that I even could if I wanted to) when we've got so much going right now. With each year, month, week comes a new set of skills that the boys learn, more shared experiences, more growth. So am I sad that Liam is going into Kindergarten? Am I crying thinking about taking him home from the hospital? No, I'm smiling because I wouldn't trade this kid, right now for anyone else in the universe.
So what emotions am I feeling? I'm happy and I've got that nervous excitement thing going too. Bill could tell you, it might seem that I waited until the last minute to do our clothing shopping (mid-August) but it was well contemplated before then. Perhaps I even perseverated on it a bit. And when we finally did get to go school supply shopping (had to wait for the list) and they were all out of Transformer take home folders, I actually looked in four more stores just to find one (perseverate much?) but to no avail. So there's clearly some amount of nervous energy going on; it's just not sadness. Can I tell you how hilarious it was shopping with Liam for clothes? When he insisted on buying the button up shirt with striped tie (not a clip-on mind you, it's a real tie with stripes and skulls), I just about fell in love with him ten times over. Now I'm leaving Joshua out. If I got sad when he turned 2 because he wasn't a baby anymore, than I might have missed out on his first actual real "I love you". There's something special about having that amazing independent kid- acting totally bazonkers and then running up to you and giving you a kiss out of the blue and saying, "I love you". Babies don't do that- they utterly and completely depend on you and melt into you, which I do admit is terrific, but they can't say "I love you" yet.
I love looking at my kids baby photos in all of our photobooks (yeah, I'm too lazy to do scrapbooking, but with photobooks, who needs it anyway?). I love looking at their cute faces and seeing how much they've changed. I'm a sucker for hand-print crafts. I love to see how little they were and now they're big. A few years back in school I had my kids do a measurement project comparing their sizes at birth to current sizes and I do admit, I teared up a little looking at their projects. But would I want to teach 20 babies instead of those 20 nine year olds? Not a chance!
In my head as I look through our family photobooks, it's like I've got shelves full of future photobooks. I see their soccer games (with Bill's luck, they'll want to play soccer instead of baseball); the school celebrations; the Kindergarten graduation; the concerts and more. I see the photobook filled with Christmases and Halloweens and the trips to the farm for the next 10 years... Hmmm... in 10 years I suppose they won't want to go the farm anymore and then they will probably get mad at me for taking them to the farm every year when they could be at the mall with their friends. I've heard that teenagers don't cuddle up to their parents either and that they don't usually say "I love you". Okay, so maybe for a few short years I might get a little teary eyed reminiscing about these days. Maybe I just haven't gotten sad because I know Liam won't change too much today. Maybe I'm not taking into account teenage hormones... So I guess if I'm going to ever cry over a milestone it will be the one where Liam tells me he wants to take the car and go school shopping on his own this year, or when Joshua tells me he doesn't want to give me a kiss good-bye in the car when I drop him off at school. Yeah, that might make me cry.
First off, I have proof that I am emotional. I cried at the end of The Help, The Time Traveller's Wife, Life As We Know It and I cried buckets when I watched Jersey Girl. I also cry when there's just too much to handle in life, when my "cup runneth over" if you will. And just for the record, I cried relentlessly for a week after my pet ferret died unexpectedly.
So why am I not emotional about Liam into Kindergarten. Hmmm... maybe it's not a lack of emotion but rather a difference in emotion. I've never been one to be sad at big occasions. I don't think I cried at graduation, but I'm pretty sure my stomach did a flip and I got goosebumps. Moments like those are part of life. Rather than being sad about college being over, why not get excited about what comes next? I'm not saying I wasn't sad to see my friends go and to abandon the life of less responsibility (who am I kidding, I was more responsible in college than most 30 year olds are living on their own). I was sad to close that chapter but like all chapters that came before it and after, I knew it was just part of life and that the next experience was just around the corner. Hmmm... maybe if I knew how mundane everyday life can possibly get at times, I would have been more sad! And probably if I knew the gravity of work in a real world classroom (versus student teaching and always having that experienced teacher to catch you if you fall or grade those papers you forgot on your desk)
I would have longed to stay put in the world of essays, projects and mid-terms. I know at all of these major milestones: graduation, wedding, baby shower,... I have been excited and nervous. I know when I got my own classroom I was scared. But sadness, no. I didn't cry at my wedding and I probably won't cry at Liam's (well, maybe I will cry at Liam's wedding).
Here's the other side of it. I have happy memories of the boys as babies but do I wish they were still babies? Not really. I think if Liam became a baby again- even if it was just for a day- I'd go crazy trying to talk to him about the scientific principals of the water cycle and not quite getting why he wasn't responding. That might not make sense. My point is that I'm not willing to turn back the clock (not that I even could if I wanted to) when we've got so much going right now. With each year, month, week comes a new set of skills that the boys learn, more shared experiences, more growth. So am I sad that Liam is going into Kindergarten? Am I crying thinking about taking him home from the hospital? No, I'm smiling because I wouldn't trade this kid, right now for anyone else in the universe.
So what emotions am I feeling? I'm happy and I've got that nervous excitement thing going too. Bill could tell you, it might seem that I waited until the last minute to do our clothing shopping (mid-August) but it was well contemplated before then. Perhaps I even perseverated on it a bit. And when we finally did get to go school supply shopping (had to wait for the list) and they were all out of Transformer take home folders, I actually looked in four more stores just to find one (perseverate much?) but to no avail. So there's clearly some amount of nervous energy going on; it's just not sadness. Can I tell you how hilarious it was shopping with Liam for clothes? When he insisted on buying the button up shirt with striped tie (not a clip-on mind you, it's a real tie with stripes and skulls), I just about fell in love with him ten times over. Now I'm leaving Joshua out. If I got sad when he turned 2 because he wasn't a baby anymore, than I might have missed out on his first actual real "I love you". There's something special about having that amazing independent kid- acting totally bazonkers and then running up to you and giving you a kiss out of the blue and saying, "I love you". Babies don't do that- they utterly and completely depend on you and melt into you, which I do admit is terrific, but they can't say "I love you" yet.
I love looking at my kids baby photos in all of our photobooks (yeah, I'm too lazy to do scrapbooking, but with photobooks, who needs it anyway?). I love looking at their cute faces and seeing how much they've changed. I'm a sucker for hand-print crafts. I love to see how little they were and now they're big. A few years back in school I had my kids do a measurement project comparing their sizes at birth to current sizes and I do admit, I teared up a little looking at their projects. But would I want to teach 20 babies instead of those 20 nine year olds? Not a chance!
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Listening Ears
I can only imagine how many times Liam's teachers will tell me, "He's not a good listener" or how many times he'll get a "U" for unsatisfactory on his report card for listening. Yet judging him as a bad listener would simply be incorrect, a misunderstanding if you will. See, what I've realized over the last 5 1/2 years is that many kids are perfectly good listeners. They do, in fact, hear the words that are coming out of our mouths. I have proof. The other day Liam was playing with a friend. His friend was asking him a question and apparently had asked the same question more than once because Liam's response was: "I heard you the first time." He said it with exactly the same tone and emphasis as we say it to him when he badgers us over and over again "Can I have a cookie? Why can't I have a cookie? Will I ever be able to have a cookie? When can I have a cookie? Can I have a cookie?" So Liam, a 5 year old, was apparently annoyed using "I heard you the first time" to fend off another round of questioning. On a side note, it was actually annoying hearing, "I heard you the first time" and I think confusing for the other kid so maybe this might not be the best choice of words for Mommy and Daddy in the future when we're being bombarded with a line of questions at increasing volume. It's not just Liam, apparently Joshua is also listening too because today in a public restroom he told me, "I mad at you, I want you leave room." Ooops, I might have said that earlier this week when I needed a little space. Kind of a worst mom moment there... requoted to remind me.
So- bad listeners? No, not really. They don't really heed what they hear, however. Rather, they seem to have judged us so well that they know they have several minutes after a first warning to get the job done. So when we say "Time for PJ's" really they take it upon themselves to do 6 more laps down the hallway.
Listening can be convenient, especially when it comes to education. I'm pretty sure Liam's teachers will all think he's not listening, that is until he takes the test at the end of the unit and quotes her word-for-word in his extended response (that's a fancy teacher word for "essay"). At some point this summer I gave Liam a rudimentary explanation of sound waves. Very basic, mind you. I got an A- in the college course, Science of Sound but it doesn't matter, I don't recall a thing (except that sound travels in waves and something to do with... oh nevermind, I forgot it). Imagine Bill's surprise in the car the other day when Liam asked about how radios worked and Liam actually grasped the explanation about how sound waves worked. It probably would have been sweet of me not to mention to Bill that Liam was actually recalling parts of our conversation... but instead I told Bill I had beat him to the punch and already explained sound waves to him. Still, Liam really did remember and understand the concept. He was listening and understanding so well that he generalized the concept and asked Bill, "Does stink have waves?"
So what will I say if the teachers tell me that Liam isn't a good listener. Hmmm... I will probably tell them that before they tell me again that he's a bad listener, they should ask him to repeat what they've said because I'm pretty sure he'll be able to tell them. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure Liam will be saying things like: "I heard you the first time", "That was a bad choice" and "Mosquitoes bite me because I'm delicious" so I'm sure the teacher will hear for herself just how good a listener Liam really is... I'll have to be a little bit more careful about what I say...
So- bad listeners? No, not really. They don't really heed what they hear, however. Rather, they seem to have judged us so well that they know they have several minutes after a first warning to get the job done. So when we say "Time for PJ's" really they take it upon themselves to do 6 more laps down the hallway.
Listening can be convenient, especially when it comes to education. I'm pretty sure Liam's teachers will all think he's not listening, that is until he takes the test at the end of the unit and quotes her word-for-word in his extended response (that's a fancy teacher word for "essay"). At some point this summer I gave Liam a rudimentary explanation of sound waves. Very basic, mind you. I got an A- in the college course, Science of Sound but it doesn't matter, I don't recall a thing (except that sound travels in waves and something to do with... oh nevermind, I forgot it). Imagine Bill's surprise in the car the other day when Liam asked about how radios worked and Liam actually grasped the explanation about how sound waves worked. It probably would have been sweet of me not to mention to Bill that Liam was actually recalling parts of our conversation... but instead I told Bill I had beat him to the punch and already explained sound waves to him. Still, Liam really did remember and understand the concept. He was listening and understanding so well that he generalized the concept and asked Bill, "Does stink have waves?"
So what will I say if the teachers tell me that Liam isn't a good listener. Hmmm... I will probably tell them that before they tell me again that he's a bad listener, they should ask him to repeat what they've said because I'm pretty sure he'll be able to tell them. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure Liam will be saying things like: "I heard you the first time", "That was a bad choice" and "Mosquitoes bite me because I'm delicious" so I'm sure the teacher will hear for herself just how good a listener Liam really is... I'll have to be a little bit more careful about what I say...
Monday, August 29, 2011
Motherly Qualities
We've been to a lot of play dates this summer. I'm thinking between 3-4 each week. We're talking science class with friends, play grounds, birthday parties, museums, camping, barbecues, quick trips to the pool- typical summer stuff. The thing with play dates at this age is that play dates for kids means play dates for moms too. Play dates are a great time to observe other moms at their best, I think, and I have amassed a list of qualities I have seen and admired. I'm thinking some enterprising scientist could just find a way to put all of these qualities together to create a completely perfect "Frankenmama"
1) Protective Mama- Here's the mama who you just don't cross. It's like a mama bear with her cubs.
2) Realist Mama- Look, most of us know our kids have faults but what I really admire is a mom who values their children not in spite of their faults but even because of them. We love our kids, why not love them for all that they are.
3) Organic Mama- I know moms who buy food 100 % organic... even bananas!
4) Glowing Mama- These are the moms that are always smiling lovingly at their kids during the play date. It's a good thing all of my friends and family have cute kids!
5) Clean Mama- Yes, there are some moms out there who clean. I've yet to see the inside of their houses.
6) Busy Mama- I mentioned the science classes, but there's also swimming lessons and what about music class too?
7) Not-fooling-around Mama- This summer one of my mama friends showed up to science class with only one of her preschool aged boys. She said the other one stayed home with Daddy "because he was not being a good listener." I looked at my two boys- one of whom took 15 minutes to put on his socks and the other who pooped his diaper just before we had left that morning (and refused to admit it). Wow. It takes one powerful mama to actually follow through with a consequence.
8) Cool Mama- This is the mama who gets all of that cool stuff like the Bakugans and the Star Wars gear. She's up on the latest Disney and Pixar movies. If she's really cool, she might be able to tell the Transformer bad guys apart.
9) Fit Mama- Some moms don't just exercise but they also spend time with their kids at the same time! Several of us have jogging strollers but how often do people actually use them for running (and not just going to the grocery store)? Yes, there's people who even join exercising-with-kids classes!
10) Attentive Mama- Some moms are more attentive than others. This is easier with fewer kids of course! Still, there are some moms who actually do remember to put sunscreen on their kids before they leave the house each day, which is quite a feat (considering I've lost all four bottles of sunscreen I had this summer).
11) Chillin' Mama- Bee stings, bickering kids & overdue naps don't seem to phase some people as much as they do for others. Sometimes having a laid back mama is just what a kid needs to learn to be independent and creative.
12) Teaching Mama- Full disclosure here, many of my friends are teachers- so it's not too surprising that we've done science projects with our kids and practiced their pre-reading skills!
13) Patient Mama- Mmm... patience is answering the same question for the 11th time today, patience is watching the same movie every morning.
14) Practical Mama- This mama knows that her kids are going to watch some TV today so she can wash her hair and make lunch. She also knows that the kids are going to have to eat their Halloween candy some time so they may as well have a sweet tart after lunch.
15) Outdoorsy Mama- Moms who are not afraid of a little sunshine, ticks and sweat are bound to get their kids outside more, especially this time of year. Sometimes it's easier to stay indoors where it's air conditioned but then how will your kids ever experience worms wiggling in the palm of their hand?
On second thought, I think Frankenmama just might be too perfect. Sometimes you need to lose your patience to truly appreciate what patience is. And every once in awhile, a kid who is used to being watched and followed by a terrifically attentive mother needs to escape and be unwatched by a mom who knows how to chill out. Still, maybe it's healthier to grow up in an organic, germ free environment, but then again maybe it's okay to build up a kid's immune system too.
Kids aren't perfect so why should their parents be? And if they really love us, they will love us even when we're not the perfect mother anyway.
1) Protective Mama- Here's the mama who you just don't cross. It's like a mama bear with her cubs.
2) Realist Mama- Look, most of us know our kids have faults but what I really admire is a mom who values their children not in spite of their faults but even because of them. We love our kids, why not love them for all that they are.
3) Organic Mama- I know moms who buy food 100 % organic... even bananas!
4) Glowing Mama- These are the moms that are always smiling lovingly at their kids during the play date. It's a good thing all of my friends and family have cute kids!
5) Clean Mama- Yes, there are some moms out there who clean. I've yet to see the inside of their houses.
6) Busy Mama- I mentioned the science classes, but there's also swimming lessons and what about music class too?
7) Not-fooling-around Mama- This summer one of my mama friends showed up to science class with only one of her preschool aged boys. She said the other one stayed home with Daddy "because he was not being a good listener." I looked at my two boys- one of whom took 15 minutes to put on his socks and the other who pooped his diaper just before we had left that morning (and refused to admit it). Wow. It takes one powerful mama to actually follow through with a consequence.
8) Cool Mama- This is the mama who gets all of that cool stuff like the Bakugans and the Star Wars gear. She's up on the latest Disney and Pixar movies. If she's really cool, she might be able to tell the Transformer bad guys apart.
9) Fit Mama- Some moms don't just exercise but they also spend time with their kids at the same time! Several of us have jogging strollers but how often do people actually use them for running (and not just going to the grocery store)? Yes, there's people who even join exercising-with-kids classes!
10) Attentive Mama- Some moms are more attentive than others. This is easier with fewer kids of course! Still, there are some moms who actually do remember to put sunscreen on their kids before they leave the house each day, which is quite a feat (considering I've lost all four bottles of sunscreen I had this summer).
11) Chillin' Mama- Bee stings, bickering kids & overdue naps don't seem to phase some people as much as they do for others. Sometimes having a laid back mama is just what a kid needs to learn to be independent and creative.
12) Teaching Mama- Full disclosure here, many of my friends are teachers- so it's not too surprising that we've done science projects with our kids and practiced their pre-reading skills!
13) Patient Mama- Mmm... patience is answering the same question for the 11th time today, patience is watching the same movie every morning.
14) Practical Mama- This mama knows that her kids are going to watch some TV today so she can wash her hair and make lunch. She also knows that the kids are going to have to eat their Halloween candy some time so they may as well have a sweet tart after lunch.
15) Outdoorsy Mama- Moms who are not afraid of a little sunshine, ticks and sweat are bound to get their kids outside more, especially this time of year. Sometimes it's easier to stay indoors where it's air conditioned but then how will your kids ever experience worms wiggling in the palm of their hand?
On second thought, I think Frankenmama just might be too perfect. Sometimes you need to lose your patience to truly appreciate what patience is. And every once in awhile, a kid who is used to being watched and followed by a terrifically attentive mother needs to escape and be unwatched by a mom who knows how to chill out. Still, maybe it's healthier to grow up in an organic, germ free environment, but then again maybe it's okay to build up a kid's immune system too.
Kids aren't perfect so why should their parents be? And if they really love us, they will love us even when we're not the perfect mother anyway.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Goodnights Seem To Last All Night
What do you like to do at bedtime? Watch the news? Brush your teeth? Drink some tea? Chances is are it's not as elaborate a ritual at our bedtime (unless you have kids or pets of your own). We've got the tooth brushing and getting on pajamas but that's not all. There needs to be stories- not just one but two. There needs to be rocking and hugging and goodnights. And mind you, this is multiplied by two because they each have their unique bedtime needs. Liam has graduated to chapter books, like James and the Giant Peach and Runaway Ralph whereas Josh likes his favorite board books (Goodnight Baby) and picture books (In the Night Kitchen) read over and over again. Then with Liam there needs to be stargazing- at his glow in the dark stars. Upstairs in Joshua's room you need to play his Sleepy Time CD and stick around for a song or two, hugging him from the floor because there's not room to cuddle on his tiny toddler bed.
All of this used to be sufficient for a good night ritual but it seems like the kids are tricking us into more elaborate schemes. It's summer time so Joshua has been having a mommy-crush. I've put him to bed most nights this summer and bedtime just isn't getting any easier. First of all, he insists on more than two books. Somehow he started sweet talking his way into getting two books on the rocking chair... and then one more book in his bed. And if I wasn't tricked enough by this two year old, he's also managed to work in a nightly rendition of "On Top of Spaghetti" and a retelling of "The 3 Little Pigs" into his bedtime routine. Meanwhile downstairs Liam and his Daddy have found themselves in a never-ending battle to be the last to say goodnight. The few times I have put Liam to bed this summer, he's managed to stalk me around the house badgering me with "I said goodnight!"
Bedtime is supposed to be calming, quieting, soothing but thanks to the demands it's become a bit more dreaded in my house. I could really do without the nightly discussion of why Joshua can't bring a cup of milk to his bed (day old milk in a sippy cup in the summer time... the only thing worse is a sippy cup that's rolled under the bed and not found for more than a week) and why juice isn't a good choice either. Liam likes to have three glasses of water so he can do some sort of a pouring ritual. I'm not sure I understand it, but he gets upset when I wash even one of the cups.
Here's the thing, despite our grandest efforts to soothe and comfort at bedtime, despite the increasingly longer schedule of events, Joshua just seems to be having more and more trouble falling asleep at bedtime. Unfortunately the little guy who used to fall asleep when his head hit the pillow can usually be heard at naptime giggling and jumping on his bed or crying at bedtime for another hug.
All of these rituals have me staying up with the kids instead of participating in my own bedtime rituals. There's less and less time for me to eat my bowl of popcorn, grade math worksheets, watch my reality shows or check my facebook most recent news. I may have to take a stand to take bedtimes back. I think it'll start with the books- a strict two, I think, is sufficient. And possibly "On Top of Spaghetti" would be better for a waking up song than at bedtime. That 30-60 sliver of time is too important for me to give up. Afterall, I don't want to have to share my bowl of popcorn.
All of this used to be sufficient for a good night ritual but it seems like the kids are tricking us into more elaborate schemes. It's summer time so Joshua has been having a mommy-crush. I've put him to bed most nights this summer and bedtime just isn't getting any easier. First of all, he insists on more than two books. Somehow he started sweet talking his way into getting two books on the rocking chair... and then one more book in his bed. And if I wasn't tricked enough by this two year old, he's also managed to work in a nightly rendition of "On Top of Spaghetti" and a retelling of "The 3 Little Pigs" into his bedtime routine. Meanwhile downstairs Liam and his Daddy have found themselves in a never-ending battle to be the last to say goodnight. The few times I have put Liam to bed this summer, he's managed to stalk me around the house badgering me with "I said goodnight!"
Bedtime is supposed to be calming, quieting, soothing but thanks to the demands it's become a bit more dreaded in my house. I could really do without the nightly discussion of why Joshua can't bring a cup of milk to his bed (day old milk in a sippy cup in the summer time... the only thing worse is a sippy cup that's rolled under the bed and not found for more than a week) and why juice isn't a good choice either. Liam likes to have three glasses of water so he can do some sort of a pouring ritual. I'm not sure I understand it, but he gets upset when I wash even one of the cups.
Here's the thing, despite our grandest efforts to soothe and comfort at bedtime, despite the increasingly longer schedule of events, Joshua just seems to be having more and more trouble falling asleep at bedtime. Unfortunately the little guy who used to fall asleep when his head hit the pillow can usually be heard at naptime giggling and jumping on his bed or crying at bedtime for another hug.
All of these rituals have me staying up with the kids instead of participating in my own bedtime rituals. There's less and less time for me to eat my bowl of popcorn, grade math worksheets, watch my reality shows or check my facebook most recent news. I may have to take a stand to take bedtimes back. I think it'll start with the books- a strict two, I think, is sufficient. And possibly "On Top of Spaghetti" would be better for a waking up song than at bedtime. That 30-60 sliver of time is too important for me to give up. Afterall, I don't want to have to share my bowl of popcorn.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Two Steps Back
Regression. Let's talk about it. Why is it that regression occurs when its least convenient? It just seems like you put so much effort into something and then BAM! There's a backslide. I had two goals this summer (well more than that, but two over-arching goals). The first was to get Joshua back on track with potty training and the second was to get Liam off his nap schedule.
Joshua has been resisting potty training since this past winter when he made a couple successful attempts but then backed off and wanted to remain a baby. He apparently has no interest in stickers or potty dances. Anyway, I figured I had all summer to work on it. And all was going well, I might say. I made him several a potty charts and he was enjoying sticking on the stickers. He was oddly fascinated with using potties outside of our home and made special efforts at houses of our friends & family as well as in public restrooms (yeah! Doesn't every mom want their kid peeing on the potty at the grocery store... oh wait, probably not). Then I left him for two nights. It was seriously less than 48 hours. Now he wants to hear nothing of the potty. It's his sworn nemesis. I've backed off a bit, but even that isn't working. After two weeks of laying off of him, I was thrilled yesterday when he said, "Me use potty later". But then I had to act unruffled when later came and still he did not want to use his potty.
Getting Liam off of his napping schedule is also a no-go. The only reason I'm able to be writing this now is because he's still slumbering in his bed. 2 years ago when Joshua was a baby I remember battling it out with Liam over his nap-time. I stood by his door, I threatened, I yelled but nothing. He was 3 years old and he decided he wasn't going to nap anymore. I started to act like it didn't matter. I would say, "Whatever, you can nap or not. It's your choice." And the more "whatever" I acted like, the more he wanted to nap. It took a bit of flexibility on my part too. I had to be open to Liam sleeping wherever he wanted. This has included next to his bed, in his room tent and my personal favorite (no joke)- with his legs under his bed and his head and upper body inside of his laundry basket. So here he is at 5 still napping most days. I'm not complaining, I love a good nap... for my kids that is. It's just that now school is starting and they only have a 15 minute "rest" period. We'll see how that goes.
It's not just the kids who have regressed. It's me too. How many years of parenting did it take for me to not insist on matching place mats with napkins? I used to compete with Martha Stewart and now the best way for me to have matching napkins at the table is by using paper. I used to have a strong non-violent policy so why is it that I let Liam buy a foam sword with his allowance? I actually bought one for Joshua too because I didn't want him to be defenseless. I used to weed the garden and now I just add more mulch. Maybe regression is our way of letting go of what is less important to us. Why take energy out of a busy day to do something as silly as ironing a tablecloth? And if it's a fun summer day and you're playing pirates with your big brother and you happen to be wearing a diaper? Well, maybe that's why Joshua just needs a break from using the potty.
Joshua has been resisting potty training since this past winter when he made a couple successful attempts but then backed off and wanted to remain a baby. He apparently has no interest in stickers or potty dances. Anyway, I figured I had all summer to work on it. And all was going well, I might say. I made him several a potty charts and he was enjoying sticking on the stickers. He was oddly fascinated with using potties outside of our home and made special efforts at houses of our friends & family as well as in public restrooms (yeah! Doesn't every mom want their kid peeing on the potty at the grocery store... oh wait, probably not). Then I left him for two nights. It was seriously less than 48 hours. Now he wants to hear nothing of the potty. It's his sworn nemesis. I've backed off a bit, but even that isn't working. After two weeks of laying off of him, I was thrilled yesterday when he said, "Me use potty later". But then I had to act unruffled when later came and still he did not want to use his potty.
Getting Liam off of his napping schedule is also a no-go. The only reason I'm able to be writing this now is because he's still slumbering in his bed. 2 years ago when Joshua was a baby I remember battling it out with Liam over his nap-time. I stood by his door, I threatened, I yelled but nothing. He was 3 years old and he decided he wasn't going to nap anymore. I started to act like it didn't matter. I would say, "Whatever, you can nap or not. It's your choice." And the more "whatever" I acted like, the more he wanted to nap. It took a bit of flexibility on my part too. I had to be open to Liam sleeping wherever he wanted. This has included next to his bed, in his room tent and my personal favorite (no joke)- with his legs under his bed and his head and upper body inside of his laundry basket. So here he is at 5 still napping most days. I'm not complaining, I love a good nap... for my kids that is. It's just that now school is starting and they only have a 15 minute "rest" period. We'll see how that goes.
It's not just the kids who have regressed. It's me too. How many years of parenting did it take for me to not insist on matching place mats with napkins? I used to compete with Martha Stewart and now the best way for me to have matching napkins at the table is by using paper. I used to have a strong non-violent policy so why is it that I let Liam buy a foam sword with his allowance? I actually bought one for Joshua too because I didn't want him to be defenseless. I used to weed the garden and now I just add more mulch. Maybe regression is our way of letting go of what is less important to us. Why take energy out of a busy day to do something as silly as ironing a tablecloth? And if it's a fun summer day and you're playing pirates with your big brother and you happen to be wearing a diaper? Well, maybe that's why Joshua just needs a break from using the potty.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Why I Had To Vacuum Twice This Weekend
It isn't the first time someone has asked but this weekend as I was cleaning our kitchen just before our annual summer barbecue, my dad asked it again, "Why are you cleaning before the party?"
I suppose it's a good question but to answer that question I will need to explain some of my other quirks when it comes to cleaning. First, let it be known that I am the furthest thing from a neat freak. I don't really completely believe in germs (except when those kids come into my class with their runny noses, chew on their pencils and then leave their tissues lying around). I don't have a schedule for cleaning the house and I do completely admit that more than half of the days of the week I go to bed with a sink full of dishes in the kitchen. So now I've "outed" myself. My house is a wreck most times and it's not all the kids' fault. My schoolwork lies around in various stacks, we've got cell phone chargers sticking out of every outlet and there are crumbs on the counter that the kids can't even reach. But really, we're not exactly slobs. We know a mess when we see one and we both really do make an effort to clean it up (I say both because, no, the boys do not "know a mess when they see one" and, no, they do not "make an effort to clean it up"). I'll come upstairs after checking my email and there's Bill picking up the "zoo maminals" or he'll keep our favorite TV show paused while I finish up a load of dishes (okay, sometimes I do the dishes before bed). We do really try, it's just so much to keep up with! There's tons of laundry and whenever I find myself taking a two-day vacation from laundry someone yells at me because they're out of socks, or their favorite underwear isn't clean or I run out of one of the three pairs of shorts that still actually fit me.
I have friends who actually do clean their houses... and not just because company is coming over. But really any amount of cleaning with kids in the house is borderline futile and barely-worth-it. No matter how often you wash the dishes, there will still be more dishes. No matter how often you do the laundry, there will be more and more filthy dirty socks (and it doesn't help if your kids like to play in the mud like mine do). No matter how often you clean up the toys- with or without the kids' help- they'll find a way to take out more toys and make more of a mess with smaller pieces. And after all of that washing and picking up, is there really time for the dusting and the spraying and the scrubbing? Really?
It's not just a working mom thing either. During the school year, I would like to assure myself that I can't clean up as much as I would like to "because I'm a working mom". I'm so busy! I leave early in the morning, return for just enough time to play, have dinner, put the kids to bed and then do more schoolwork. But now over the summer, I am home and yikes! I've got to tell you, I've got plenty more time at home with the kids but not much more is being cleaned. Maybe it's because I'm so busy with all of the play dates and the classes and the activities or maybe it's because the kids are home more so they're making more messes. Whatever the reason, there's still a full sink of dishes in my sink right now (in my defense, I did do the dishes just before dinner tonight so the dishwasher is running). It seems that if I ever do hire a cleaning lady, I will have to hire her year-round.
Judgement. That's why I clean before parties. I don't want to be unfairly- okay "fairly"- judged as a messy homemaker. It's bad enough I didn't have time to vacuum the cobwebs before the party this weekend, did I really want people seeing all of the unfolded towels in the hallway closet (easy remedy- close the closet)? I know; during the party the floor will get all crummy, the carpet will get muddy and the toys will get strewn around in a giant muddled mess of plastic. But after all of the guests are gone, I get to clean up at my own pace. No one comes over after the party and turns up their nose at you because your Candy Land pieces are mixed in with the Legos (seriously kids? Did you have to take out Candy Land?). No, I can handle clean up after a party. I can even deal with the three days worth of dishes afterwards. But before hand, I do feel the need to clean and I'm not afraid to admit it. I don't mind if people know the truth- my house isn't always (usually) clean. But I'd rather if they not be confronted with that reality when they stop by for a barbecue.
Judgement. Who am I really afraid of anyway? I hate to admit, but I think I'm my own worst judge. You know when your kids are being so unbelievably cute that you just need to take out the video camera? Well, I've been known to actually run around the house for five minutes picking things up while hoping my kids maintain their cuteness just so I can start filming them in a more tidy scene. And even then, I find myself holding the camera at an angle to avoid more messy locations in the house: "No boys, be cute in the living room, not the kitchen!" And who will be watching these videos someday? The boys? I doubt they'll notice or care. No, me. I will be watching the videos and I don't really want proof that I didn't have time to clean. Just like I don't want proof noticed by friends and family that I don't clean enough either.
So there it is folks, I don't want to be unfairly judged... by you or by me. So if you come over at the start of the party, you might just see what I wish my house looked like all of the time- or maybe all you will see are the cobwebs and the dirt I couldn't reach in the corners.
I suppose it's a good question but to answer that question I will need to explain some of my other quirks when it comes to cleaning. First, let it be known that I am the furthest thing from a neat freak. I don't really completely believe in germs (except when those kids come into my class with their runny noses, chew on their pencils and then leave their tissues lying around). I don't have a schedule for cleaning the house and I do completely admit that more than half of the days of the week I go to bed with a sink full of dishes in the kitchen. So now I've "outed" myself. My house is a wreck most times and it's not all the kids' fault. My schoolwork lies around in various stacks, we've got cell phone chargers sticking out of every outlet and there are crumbs on the counter that the kids can't even reach. But really, we're not exactly slobs. We know a mess when we see one and we both really do make an effort to clean it up (I say both because, no, the boys do not "know a mess when they see one" and, no, they do not "make an effort to clean it up"). I'll come upstairs after checking my email and there's Bill picking up the "zoo maminals" or he'll keep our favorite TV show paused while I finish up a load of dishes (okay, sometimes I do the dishes before bed). We do really try, it's just so much to keep up with! There's tons of laundry and whenever I find myself taking a two-day vacation from laundry someone yells at me because they're out of socks, or their favorite underwear isn't clean or I run out of one of the three pairs of shorts that still actually fit me.
I have friends who actually do clean their houses... and not just because company is coming over. But really any amount of cleaning with kids in the house is borderline futile and barely-worth-it. No matter how often you wash the dishes, there will still be more dishes. No matter how often you do the laundry, there will be more and more filthy dirty socks (and it doesn't help if your kids like to play in the mud like mine do). No matter how often you clean up the toys- with or without the kids' help- they'll find a way to take out more toys and make more of a mess with smaller pieces. And after all of that washing and picking up, is there really time for the dusting and the spraying and the scrubbing? Really?
It's not just a working mom thing either. During the school year, I would like to assure myself that I can't clean up as much as I would like to "because I'm a working mom". I'm so busy! I leave early in the morning, return for just enough time to play, have dinner, put the kids to bed and then do more schoolwork. But now over the summer, I am home and yikes! I've got to tell you, I've got plenty more time at home with the kids but not much more is being cleaned. Maybe it's because I'm so busy with all of the play dates and the classes and the activities or maybe it's because the kids are home more so they're making more messes. Whatever the reason, there's still a full sink of dishes in my sink right now (in my defense, I did do the dishes just before dinner tonight so the dishwasher is running). It seems that if I ever do hire a cleaning lady, I will have to hire her year-round.
Judgement. That's why I clean before parties. I don't want to be unfairly- okay "fairly"- judged as a messy homemaker. It's bad enough I didn't have time to vacuum the cobwebs before the party this weekend, did I really want people seeing all of the unfolded towels in the hallway closet (easy remedy- close the closet)? I know; during the party the floor will get all crummy, the carpet will get muddy and the toys will get strewn around in a giant muddled mess of plastic. But after all of the guests are gone, I get to clean up at my own pace. No one comes over after the party and turns up their nose at you because your Candy Land pieces are mixed in with the Legos (seriously kids? Did you have to take out Candy Land?). No, I can handle clean up after a party. I can even deal with the three days worth of dishes afterwards. But before hand, I do feel the need to clean and I'm not afraid to admit it. I don't mind if people know the truth- my house isn't always (usually) clean. But I'd rather if they not be confronted with that reality when they stop by for a barbecue.
Judgement. Who am I really afraid of anyway? I hate to admit, but I think I'm my own worst judge. You know when your kids are being so unbelievably cute that you just need to take out the video camera? Well, I've been known to actually run around the house for five minutes picking things up while hoping my kids maintain their cuteness just so I can start filming them in a more tidy scene. And even then, I find myself holding the camera at an angle to avoid more messy locations in the house: "No boys, be cute in the living room, not the kitchen!" And who will be watching these videos someday? The boys? I doubt they'll notice or care. No, me. I will be watching the videos and I don't really want proof that I didn't have time to clean. Just like I don't want proof noticed by friends and family that I don't clean enough either.
So there it is folks, I don't want to be unfairly judged... by you or by me. So if you come over at the start of the party, you might just see what I wish my house looked like all of the time- or maybe all you will see are the cobwebs and the dirt I couldn't reach in the corners.
Monday, August 1, 2011
They Have Tear Free Shampoo, Why Not Scream Free?
When my kids feel injured they don't just cry, they scream. Liam particularly. He rarely takes stock of his wounds before screaming out in hysteria. I think Joshua may be learning from him too because he has been known to shout over minor bumps and falls.
It's not that I'm not sympathetic but we're really talking about injuries that lack crucial signs of actually being injuries. They might bump their head or fall down (in the grass) and break out into blood curdling screams. I walk over in my due time only to find that there's no injury to be seen. No bruise, no redness, no blood (though they try to persuade me otherwise), nothing. And yet they're inconsolable.
Why would I be so horrible as to only walk over to my wounded young? Well, it's just experience. They've really trained me and not in a good way. It's hard to explain to children under the age of 7 this whole "Boy Who Cried Wolf" thing. I've tried to tell the fable but there's just no connection between a boy in a field with sheep crying "Wolf" and them feeling as though they've been permanently scarred several times a day. They just don't see the connection that the more they scream over little things, the harder it is for me to muster up a run over to their help. I DO HELP MY KIDS IN NEED (no misunderstandings there please). I'm just saying that if my child screams bloody murder and you are very concerned and you see me walking, not running, there's a reason why. Most times it's nothing more than a little red and there's really nothing I can do besides give a kiss. Whoever thought that kids would sit with an ice pack on their head really hasn't met my kids (it doesn't matter if we use the boo boo bunny or an ice pack shaped like a car, they'll tolerate it for all of 15 seconds). Recently after I gave Liam the obligatory boo-boo-kiss he actually looked up at me and said, "You know, kissing it doesn't make it better!" So who am I kidding? Maybe they need a band aid but that's surprisingly rare. We've had our Snoopy band aids for over 2 years and now that we have the new box- the Transformers, Liam is just dying to get hurt to use up those old band aids so he can start using the Transformers!
Of course, there's always those times when there is actually a wolf. Take the time that Liam screamed at a play date. He had been running around in a good friend's backyard. A friend who takes good care of her backyard. Liam was barefoot and playing in the pool and then onto a small playground. When he cried out I went over and I did see some blood on his foot. I lovingly picked him up and sat him on a chair. I told him I would be right back with a band aid (I omitted the fact that since we were at a girl's house, he would probably end up with a Hello Kitty band aid, not a Transformer). Well as I was finding a towel and band aid inside, apparently the situation became more perilous outside. Liam started gushing blood out of his foot. Within a short time he was back playing which left me to reflect. Did I move too slow? Should I panic every time he or Josh panics (mind you, that's 3 times each a day)?
I think the answers are "No" and "No". I wouldn't say I moved slow, just efficiently and I wouldn't say I should panic, it's certainly preferable to maintain calm especially if there is an emergency to deal with.
But I think I lost sight of the title of this entry... it's what made me think of the drama kings currently sleeping in their beds. Earlier tonight they were both in the bath getting shampooed and lathered up. Why is it that their kiddie shampoo says "Tear Free" yet both kids panic in utter despair every time soap gets close to even an eyelid (let alone an eyeball)? Unfortunately our bathroom is somewhat echoey and I really could do without all of the screaming in the tub! It's just soap and it's not like it's grown up soap (have you ever had Pert Plus in your eye?)! So I've decided I will try it out just to see if it really is tear free. I am a little reluctant because I've read and heard about parents trying this experiment before...and the moment of truth is:
It stings and I can't help but cry a little bit (but I'm not screaming about it!). Seriously, my eyes are watering up. I don't think I want to try the body wash.
It's not that I'm not sympathetic but we're really talking about injuries that lack crucial signs of actually being injuries. They might bump their head or fall down (in the grass) and break out into blood curdling screams. I walk over in my due time only to find that there's no injury to be seen. No bruise, no redness, no blood (though they try to persuade me otherwise), nothing. And yet they're inconsolable.
Why would I be so horrible as to only walk over to my wounded young? Well, it's just experience. They've really trained me and not in a good way. It's hard to explain to children under the age of 7 this whole "Boy Who Cried Wolf" thing. I've tried to tell the fable but there's just no connection between a boy in a field with sheep crying "Wolf" and them feeling as though they've been permanently scarred several times a day. They just don't see the connection that the more they scream over little things, the harder it is for me to muster up a run over to their help. I DO HELP MY KIDS IN NEED (no misunderstandings there please). I'm just saying that if my child screams bloody murder and you are very concerned and you see me walking, not running, there's a reason why. Most times it's nothing more than a little red and there's really nothing I can do besides give a kiss. Whoever thought that kids would sit with an ice pack on their head really hasn't met my kids (it doesn't matter if we use the boo boo bunny or an ice pack shaped like a car, they'll tolerate it for all of 15 seconds). Recently after I gave Liam the obligatory boo-boo-kiss he actually looked up at me and said, "You know, kissing it doesn't make it better!" So who am I kidding? Maybe they need a band aid but that's surprisingly rare. We've had our Snoopy band aids for over 2 years and now that we have the new box- the Transformers, Liam is just dying to get hurt to use up those old band aids so he can start using the Transformers!
Of course, there's always those times when there is actually a wolf. Take the time that Liam screamed at a play date. He had been running around in a good friend's backyard. A friend who takes good care of her backyard. Liam was barefoot and playing in the pool and then onto a small playground. When he cried out I went over and I did see some blood on his foot. I lovingly picked him up and sat him on a chair. I told him I would be right back with a band aid (I omitted the fact that since we were at a girl's house, he would probably end up with a Hello Kitty band aid, not a Transformer). Well as I was finding a towel and band aid inside, apparently the situation became more perilous outside. Liam started gushing blood out of his foot. Within a short time he was back playing which left me to reflect. Did I move too slow? Should I panic every time he or Josh panics (mind you, that's 3 times each a day)?
I think the answers are "No" and "No". I wouldn't say I moved slow, just efficiently and I wouldn't say I should panic, it's certainly preferable to maintain calm especially if there is an emergency to deal with.
But I think I lost sight of the title of this entry... it's what made me think of the drama kings currently sleeping in their beds. Earlier tonight they were both in the bath getting shampooed and lathered up. Why is it that their kiddie shampoo says "Tear Free" yet both kids panic in utter despair every time soap gets close to even an eyelid (let alone an eyeball)? Unfortunately our bathroom is somewhat echoey and I really could do without all of the screaming in the tub! It's just soap and it's not like it's grown up soap (have you ever had Pert Plus in your eye?)! So I've decided I will try it out just to see if it really is tear free. I am a little reluctant because I've read and heard about parents trying this experiment before...and the moment of truth is:
It stings and I can't help but cry a little bit (but I'm not screaming about it!). Seriously, my eyes are watering up. I don't think I want to try the body wash.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Coupon Crazed
Nothing quite explains the rush of a good coupon book arriving in the mail. I'll admit I have little use for regular coupons. Grocery store & manufacturer's coupons are too hard to clip and they're always expiring anyway. But a good coupon book? Well, that's a different story altogether. I know my love of coupons is totally contagious because Bill now eagerly awaits the monthly issue of our wholesale club too. It's like we're waiting on pins and needles for those diaper coupons (no, really).
Are we the only ones who strategically time our trips to the local wholesale club according to the "trifecta" of coupons (Trifecta of coupons: defined as the narrow period of time when some of your coupons from the old book are still valid, the seasonal book is still valid and the next month's coupon book arrives a couple of days early)? Within our circle of friends, quite possibly, but in the whole world of couponing, we seem to be small change. I don't even have one of those coupon binders or expandable files. No, I just have our coupon book, neatly stapled together on magazine paper, with perforated coupon edges. Apparently there's a whole breed of coupon crazies our there who get their groceries for free and who end up storing oatmeal, barbecue sauce and mouthwash under their children's bunk beds. We're not quite that bad but we do like a good coupon here and there and the more coupons you can use on a trip, the better- that is, up until a certain point. See, the reason why we don't do well with the manufacturer's coupons is because we don't manage little strips of paper very well. I can't keep track of the dressing coupon that's about to expire and which brand of potato chips we have the coupon for. I've also been known to lose coupons... without fail. One time just before the holidays I clipped a wad of coupons before going into the wholesale club and stuffed them in my pocket. I ended up leaving a trail of coupons throughout the store. Did I go back through the entire warehouse combing the aisles for toilet paper and cereal coupons? Yes, yes I did.
How far we have come. We used to use a coupon here and there for buy one get one meals at a nice restaurant or (who am I kidding) for mini golf dates. Now we savor good diaper coupons and call our friends when we find a good one. We can't wait for the next wipes coupon and we just love a good coupon for batteries. Our spare change used to spent on CD's and a beer with wings, now it's spent on apple juice and baby socks. It's somewhat of a consolation when we can at least save $1 on each.
Are we the only ones who strategically time our trips to the local wholesale club according to the "trifecta" of coupons (Trifecta of coupons: defined as the narrow period of time when some of your coupons from the old book are still valid, the seasonal book is still valid and the next month's coupon book arrives a couple of days early)? Within our circle of friends, quite possibly, but in the whole world of couponing, we seem to be small change. I don't even have one of those coupon binders or expandable files. No, I just have our coupon book, neatly stapled together on magazine paper, with perforated coupon edges. Apparently there's a whole breed of coupon crazies our there who get their groceries for free and who end up storing oatmeal, barbecue sauce and mouthwash under their children's bunk beds. We're not quite that bad but we do like a good coupon here and there and the more coupons you can use on a trip, the better- that is, up until a certain point. See, the reason why we don't do well with the manufacturer's coupons is because we don't manage little strips of paper very well. I can't keep track of the dressing coupon that's about to expire and which brand of potato chips we have the coupon for. I've also been known to lose coupons... without fail. One time just before the holidays I clipped a wad of coupons before going into the wholesale club and stuffed them in my pocket. I ended up leaving a trail of coupons throughout the store. Did I go back through the entire warehouse combing the aisles for toilet paper and cereal coupons? Yes, yes I did.
How far we have come. We used to use a coupon here and there for buy one get one meals at a nice restaurant or (who am I kidding) for mini golf dates. Now we savor good diaper coupons and call our friends when we find a good one. We can't wait for the next wipes coupon and we just love a good coupon for batteries. Our spare change used to spent on CD's and a beer with wings, now it's spent on apple juice and baby socks. It's somewhat of a consolation when we can at least save $1 on each.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Worst Best Mom Revisited
This week I formally put my application in for super mom status... and then decisively withdrew the application. Clearly, I've got potential to be on that "Best Mom" status list, if there truly is a list out there of best moms. This week I took my kids to two museums AND a story hour, plus two pool play dates. But by the end of the week all I could muster was a 10 minute trip to a playground followed by a long car ride in the air conditioning.
This week brought out the teacher in me. I feel perpetual guilt at not constantly imparting knowledge via direct instruction to my children. Most times I reassure myself with ideas about contextual, or hands-on, everyday experiences but this week I decided to put my teaching degree and those magnetic letters to good use. I took the letters off the fridge that were being used as actual magnets, gathered up the ones the boys had scattered under the stove and rug and found a couple of brownie pans. I showed Liam the word "at" and then we practiced word families, reading words like Cat, Fat, Pat, Mat and Rat. I threw in some nonsense words like Zat and Gat just to be silly. I seized a teachable moment to talk about syllables, which Liam took to immediately (not to brag, but he figured out that Joshua was three syllables, let's not quibble over the fact that the syllables he clapped out were "Jo- shu- wa"). Later in the week we reviewed "at" words and moved on to "it" words. It was fabulous. And then afterwards the kids took all of the letters and scattered them all around the room for me to pick up. Terrific.
This week we started to redirect our children's behavior. I wanted them to be more helpful but, as I mentioned in a previous blog, I felt that Liam was being too rewards-driven. So we formalized the whole deal by making a chore chart and agreeing on a hefty allowance ($1). Crazy as it is, it actually worked (this week). Liam watered plants and seem to take it as a given (with 4 or 5 reminders) that he was responsible for the silverware drawer. So what if my spoons are all muddled together regardless of size! I can handle it! Even Joshua is in on the fun (for 50 cents a week), drying the dishes. Hmmm... now that the week is over though... I should probably actually write down the chores we all agreed to and make a chart. I'm not sure how long I'll remember this whole $1 a week thing and not to be down on Liam, but he's kind of a flake with money.
This week we tackled potty training. Yes folks, we did it. Well, actually I did it and then it seems to be unraveling already. Before this week, Joshua was very hesitant to use his potty but we did get him sitting on it more often. Over the past two weeks, he's earned 16 stickers and that's just for home potty-use. He actually seems to prefer the thrill of going on other people's potties. I think it's the anticipation of feeling like he's going to fall into someone else's toilet. So that leads us to the regression, while I must have been doing something right (I feel like I actually earned those 16 stickers), clearly I was also doing something wrong because the last two days Joshua has been defiantly pooping in that diaper again. Dag nab it! I know the right way to handle it... but I ignored my instincts and slipped into guilt trips like: "No motorcycle stickers for pooping in your diaper" and "Big boys use the potty, look at Liam using the potty!" Oops. Apparently Joshua isn't the only one who regressed this week.
This week we did scientific experiments. Seriously, Liam was so excited about making a bouncy ball that when we bought the Borax at the grocery store, he was giddy with excitement. The experiment failed but it was just a good lesson on trial and error. We also did experiments with lava lamps (kind of a waste of a lot of oil, next time I'll use a smaller container) and oobleck (cornstarch + water = fun times and a messy carpet). Of course, the teacher in me couldn't help but hound Liam with questions like, "Is it a solid or a liquid?" and "What do you observe?". He ignored both questions completely.
This week I made goldfish out of carrots, an octopus out of noodles & cheese and clams out of sugar snap peas. But by the end of the week I was so hot and so exhausted that it was all I could do to make the kids a bowl of Mac & Cheese and shout, "IT'S NOT HOT! EAT IT!"
It takes a lot to be a Best Mom. I'm not sure anyone was meant to be a Best Mom for good. If there was someone taking notes, he/she would note all of my lapses. But now that I think about it, the only person who really takes all those notes, I"m afraid, is me. I notice every mis-step along they way, every shriek, every poor choice of words, every little thing that could disqualify me for super mom status. I even used that old word "annoying" again this week. So what if I'm not the best mom out there anyway. Would the best mom do something as stupid as giving one kid a plastic baseball bat and the other a plastic golf club and then tell the kids to start hitting the water in their kiddle pool to see who could make the biggest splash? No, probably not. So it's worth it sliding down in status and, for now, I'll settle with being the Worst Best Mom.
This week brought out the teacher in me. I feel perpetual guilt at not constantly imparting knowledge via direct instruction to my children. Most times I reassure myself with ideas about contextual, or hands-on, everyday experiences but this week I decided to put my teaching degree and those magnetic letters to good use. I took the letters off the fridge that were being used as actual magnets, gathered up the ones the boys had scattered under the stove and rug and found a couple of brownie pans. I showed Liam the word "at" and then we practiced word families, reading words like Cat, Fat, Pat, Mat and Rat. I threw in some nonsense words like Zat and Gat just to be silly. I seized a teachable moment to talk about syllables, which Liam took to immediately (not to brag, but he figured out that Joshua was three syllables, let's not quibble over the fact that the syllables he clapped out were "Jo- shu- wa"). Later in the week we reviewed "at" words and moved on to "it" words. It was fabulous. And then afterwards the kids took all of the letters and scattered them all around the room for me to pick up. Terrific.
This week we started to redirect our children's behavior. I wanted them to be more helpful but, as I mentioned in a previous blog, I felt that Liam was being too rewards-driven. So we formalized the whole deal by making a chore chart and agreeing on a hefty allowance ($1). Crazy as it is, it actually worked (this week). Liam watered plants and seem to take it as a given (with 4 or 5 reminders) that he was responsible for the silverware drawer. So what if my spoons are all muddled together regardless of size! I can handle it! Even Joshua is in on the fun (for 50 cents a week), drying the dishes. Hmmm... now that the week is over though... I should probably actually write down the chores we all agreed to and make a chart. I'm not sure how long I'll remember this whole $1 a week thing and not to be down on Liam, but he's kind of a flake with money.
This week we tackled potty training. Yes folks, we did it. Well, actually I did it and then it seems to be unraveling already. Before this week, Joshua was very hesitant to use his potty but we did get him sitting on it more often. Over the past two weeks, he's earned 16 stickers and that's just for home potty-use. He actually seems to prefer the thrill of going on other people's potties. I think it's the anticipation of feeling like he's going to fall into someone else's toilet. So that leads us to the regression, while I must have been doing something right (I feel like I actually earned those 16 stickers), clearly I was also doing something wrong because the last two days Joshua has been defiantly pooping in that diaper again. Dag nab it! I know the right way to handle it... but I ignored my instincts and slipped into guilt trips like: "No motorcycle stickers for pooping in your diaper" and "Big boys use the potty, look at Liam using the potty!" Oops. Apparently Joshua isn't the only one who regressed this week.
This week we did scientific experiments. Seriously, Liam was so excited about making a bouncy ball that when we bought the Borax at the grocery store, he was giddy with excitement. The experiment failed but it was just a good lesson on trial and error. We also did experiments with lava lamps (kind of a waste of a lot of oil, next time I'll use a smaller container) and oobleck (cornstarch + water = fun times and a messy carpet). Of course, the teacher in me couldn't help but hound Liam with questions like, "Is it a solid or a liquid?" and "What do you observe?". He ignored both questions completely.
This week I made goldfish out of carrots, an octopus out of noodles & cheese and clams out of sugar snap peas. But by the end of the week I was so hot and so exhausted that it was all I could do to make the kids a bowl of Mac & Cheese and shout, "IT'S NOT HOT! EAT IT!"
It takes a lot to be a Best Mom. I'm not sure anyone was meant to be a Best Mom for good. If there was someone taking notes, he/she would note all of my lapses. But now that I think about it, the only person who really takes all those notes, I"m afraid, is me. I notice every mis-step along they way, every shriek, every poor choice of words, every little thing that could disqualify me for super mom status. I even used that old word "annoying" again this week. So what if I'm not the best mom out there anyway. Would the best mom do something as stupid as giving one kid a plastic baseball bat and the other a plastic golf club and then tell the kids to start hitting the water in their kiddle pool to see who could make the biggest splash? No, probably not. So it's worth it sliding down in status and, for now, I'll settle with being the Worst Best Mom.
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