Coordination Isn't So Easy But It Sure Is Cute

     Soon after Joshua was first born, I got to work searching the clothing aisles for matching shirts.  We had set up a photo shoot with a family friend at our favorite park. The spring flowers would be blooming and we were told to find something to coordinate. What I thought would be an easy accomplishment (finding matching polos) turned out to be a major endeavor.  It turns out that there is little in the way of matching when you cross from infant to toddler sections in the clothing stores.  Who knew that Carter's didn't see my vision of matching polo shirts.  But no, not in JC Penney or Old Navy or Macy's could I find matching shirts for the boys.  I was even having trouble finding coordinating colors, which I might have settled on had I not found a matching onesy and T-Shirt at Target.  They weren't the nicest shirts, but they did just fine and the pictures turned out cute enough... except for the fact that it was really too windy a day and we discovered that Liam has seasonal allergies (so even though the pictures of him sniffing the flowers are beautiful, they're also kind of pitiful).
     Thus began my on-going quest to find matching outfits for the boys.  I think it's because I am so stubborn.  If I find out that something is difficult, it becomes my new favorite hobby.
     Why do I like matching shirts and pajamas and, yes, even sunglasses?  Maybe because it looks good in photos, or because I want my kids to lose their identities as individuals.  Maybe because I secretly wish I had twins (side whisper- no I do not) or maybe I like matching clothes because it's just so darn cute. 
     Honestly, a bit of my obsession is because I'm afraid I'll lose a child when we're out in public. Dressing in matching shirts helps solve this problem... especially when the shirt is bright colored.  It makes it easier to spot my two guys in a crowd and, from a purely lazy point of view, it also allows my addled-brain to focus on one color or print.  On a recent trip to Disney (yes, did I mention we recently went to Disney???  Very special; magical) I dressed the boys in matching shirts that my mom had bought them especially for the occasion.  They had matching orange polos with dinos for Animal Kingdom (perfect for photo shoots in Dino Land) and we also had Batman shirts with capes to wear to Hollywood Studios and Yellow neon polos to wear to Magic Kingdom.  I knew that it would be hard for all of us to keep track of the kiddoes during their busiest season of he year, so wearing the matching shirts was part photo-op and part survival strategy.

     Over the years, I have developed a reputation for matching shirts.  It's actually a contagious obsession.  Especially once my sister found out that a clothing company called Hatley sells matching patterns that appear in pajamas, shirts and even bathing suits across all sizes- from infant to adult.  Ever since then, it hasn't been the same.  Even when we can get all three of our kids in the same matching print though, we never seem to get the shot with all three of them in it.
 

     Yesterday I gave Liam permission to choose a Halloween costume for 2012 that doesn't match with Joshua's. Thus far, I've been able to weasel a way into matching costumes.  Let me tell you, the pay off has been adorable.  But maybe this year, as hard as it will be, I will let go and let them choose separate costumes.  Still, when Liam said he wanted to be Darth Mal (or a Ghostbuster) and Joshua decided on "alligator", I felt a little sad voice inside of me.  It was trying to come up with convincing arguments for them both to agree on a theme.  I am not proud of it, but I did ask Joshua if he wanted to be Slimer.

     Okay, so call me cheesy or obsessive-compulsive.  Yes, I know both might be true.  But here are a few pics of my matching family.  You have to admit, it's kind of worth searching the racks at JC Penney.

  

Light Ups

     This afternoon in the hallway I spotted a little girl walking in a pair of pretty pink flip flops. And only the left flip flop was lighting up.  That's right, she had lop-sided flip-flops.  Now I would like to give myself credit for wearing the first pair of light up sneakers... ever... in the 80s.  They were white with black bows with sparkling gems inside of them.  I think I wore them with a pair of tapered jeans with bright pink zippers going up the back ankles (why hasn't that trend come back I ask you?).  At any rate, I specifically remember wearing light up sneakers and loving them. What I don't remember is how much of a pain in the ass they were.  I mean, really a pain- from the kid perspective and parent perspective alike.
     Light up sneakers (and flip flops) never stay lit up for too long.  Last summer I literally cried after buying Liam his first full-cost pair of sneakers ($55 plus tax).  Usually I luck out with discount stores but he has a wide sized foot and coupled with being in a particularly picky phase (his sock seams were bothering him), it became clear that I was going to have to actually go to a shoe store.  And get him fitted. And pay full price for a pair of shoes he would ruin promptly.  And as it turns out, this is exactly what happened.  I paid $55 for a pair of white Star Wars sneakers that lit up.  But not for long.  Shortly after returning home, but luckily before he had worn the shoes to his first day of school, we realized that one of the shoes didn't light up. I brought it back to the store and exchanged it for a working pair.  Pain in the ass.  Needless to say, it didn't take too long for one of the shoes lights' to blow a fuse and stop working.  Apparently you shouldn't walk through puddles while wearing light up shoes.
     Excuse me but- Really?  You just put a pair of super awesomely cool white light up STAR WARS sneakers on a 5 year old and now you're telling me he's supposed to be expected to not walk into puddles?  Now where's the fun in that?  Up until this point, Liam had not been avoiding puddles but rather steering his path into every puddle he saw.  Isn't that what every super awesomely cool 5 year old does?  Not only did avoiding puddles go against Liam's life philosophy, it also went against my parenting philosophy.  Water and dirt shouldn't be thought of as harmful to children- even when combined into mud.  I only ask that if you experiment with muddy puddles in the driveway, you take off the shoes and muddy clothes in the foyer before tracking them throughout the house. But avoiding puddles because of your shoes?  Where's the fun in that?
     So of course, after finding out that kids wearing light up sneakers were expected to avoid puddles... you would think that we would buy Liam a pair of normal sneakers next.  Not so.  This time we opted for black Death Star sneakers that lit up.  And Liam decided he would avoid puddles. Did I mention we bought these shoes in February?  Poor kid didn't stand a chance.
     Irony alert: Liam also has a pair of light up Spiderman boots that did survive the winter and do still light up.  Apparently Target is able to market a boot  with waterproof lights... whereas the $55 Stride Rite shoes just cannot be bothered to have waterproof their lights.
     That's it!  I'm never buying light ups again and that little girl with the pitiful lop-sided flip-flops just sealed the deal for me.  Isn't that what flip-flops are for?  Jumping into puddles and wearing into scuzzy showers when camping?  So who ever heard of a kid wearing flip-flops and being expected to avoid water?  This is incomprehensible to me.
     Okay, I might not have started this most-recent trend towards light up footwear... but I certainly can end it.  I'm just going to put it out there right now that I will always look for dark colored shoes (because white is just asking for it) and that they will not be light ups.  I'm just going to go ahead on an unrelated tangent and rule out Heelies too (sneakers with roller skates) because sneakers are for running and I think that buying something that will inevitably lead to scuffs on the floor or falling on one's ass is just, well, a big pain in the ass.  Where was I?  Yes, I'm ending the trend towards light ups.  I know they are super awesome cool and all the cool Star Wars shoes come in light up but (a) They're expensive and (b) I am not willing to compromise my philosophy: Kids should be able to jump in puddles, especially when they're wearing flip flops.

Thinking of You, Mom

     It's Mother's Day morning and it's blissful so far.  Not because the sun is shining, but because I actually woke up on my own this morning and both of the kids are still in bed.  Okay, to be fair, I think I ignored a "Mommeeee" coming from Josh's room around 6:15 am.  I've already sipped a cup of OJ and now I'm just waiting for someone to make me french toast (Bill is not showing any signs of getting out of bed yet).
     Mother's Day this year has me thinking about my own mom.  I realize that I am very similar to my mom in many ways.  I talk and make loud predictions during movies.  I lose my keys several times a day.  I only like to buy things that are on sale.  Everywhere I go, I carry too many overstuffed bags but I always seem to be missing the items we need.  I like Japanese food... and quiches... and seafood salad.  I love to eat vegetables, but I hate red peppers.
     Being a mom myself now, I've developed my own styles, techniques, philosophies and (yes) flaws.  This Mother's Day (as I continue to wait for my breakfast) I think it's a good time to reflect on how my mom has shaped me as a mother.  I'll leave out the flaws for everyone's sake.  As far as anyone is concerned today (on Mother's Day) my mom and I are both perfectly flawless mom.
     My mom attended everyone of my swim meets.  Well, within reason she did (some.were hours away).  I don't think she was too interested in the swimming either and I know it was pretty hot in there.  But she was there- up in the loft or in the bleachers smiling at me.  I only was on the swim team my Senior year in High School and I only swam because my friends did.  My mom really had nothing to cheer about.  I always competed in the last heat- the worst of the worst swimmers.  I wasn't actually a bad swimmer.  I even knew how to do those fancy flip turns on the wall.  Unfortunately I had a phobia or inability to dive off of the platform into the shallow end.  Not a great trait for someone on the swim team.  But at Sectionals when I landed on my feet and then started to swim, I'm pretty sure my mom didn't mind one bit (and it's okay if she laughed a little bit).  Come to think of it, maybe that's why she was still smiling at the end of my last lap.  So when I think of how Mom used to go to those swim meets and to my cross country meets (again, when I came in last place), I think it's not so bad having to juggle three T-Ball games in four days and work the concession stand.
     My mom was not afraid of a little dirt and neither am I. I don't remember ever getting in trouble because I had gotten too dirty.  I'm pretty sure as a young child that I ate a few pebbles.  My mom didn't seem to mind (or maybe she didn't know).  So we played outside, we worked in the garden and we tracked in mud.  So I really don't mind if my kids play in the sandbox.  And when Liam does experiments with hose water and mud, it's okay if he gets a little splattered.  I would prefer if he didn't sit on the couch, but I'm okay with the mess.  That's why I never buy the kids white shoes.
     Learning toys.  Not those annoying Leap Frog toys that sing songs about each letter and number.  No, my mom knew about real learning toys and she had plenty of them for us to play with.  Often times, these learning toys had many little pieces, but she didn't seem to mind.  She knew that creative play was important for young kids.  When we played, our toys never really looked the same. We had Marble Works (you design the marble ramps and then have marble races), Light Brights, Legos and plenty of dolls and action figures to play with. She bought my sister Barbies, but I don't think she liked it.  I sensed her distaste and tied up the Barbies by their hair to window blind strings and then swung the Barbies back and forth across our sunroom.  Today I've taken this to heart and now my kids have all sorts of creative toys.  I found a vintage Marble Works but the kids also have Bristle Blocks, Lincoln Logs, Wooden Blocks, Instruments, a Kitchen Set with foods, K'Nex, Stacking Cubes and much more.  Perhaps I've gone a little overboard in the creative toy department.  So, like my mom, I've also learned to rotate toys towards the front of the pile.  So every few months, I take piles of toys downstairs and put them away on the shelf and then (when Bill isn't looking) I take a new pile upstairs for the kids to play with. 
      Hmmm... still no breakfast made.  But also, still no kids awake so it's all okay.
     Speaking of learning... my mom is an expert in the field of child development and I did follow in her footsteps.  She always seemed to know and accept that children don't follow a rigid set of stages in their development.  Each stage is more of a spectrum and it takes time, sometimes lots of time, to move from one stage to the next.  When I was becoming more independent, she didn't fight it.  She negotiated a fair curfew with me and never said "I told you so" when I came back one hour early.  And when I developed a more creative streak she never told me I couldn't wear that dress with those leggings.  When I learned about Piaget's stages of concrete to abstract learning, and Vygotsky's "Zone of Proximal Development" children and their development all became more clear to me.  I've internalized much of these concepts (although I could use a refresher course) and it's made me a better teacher and mother.  It's taught me that learning is a journey, not a destination.  Even though many parenting books, state and national standards, your parent friends and the media tend to focus on how your child is performing at a certain age in their life, it's okay to resist that a bit and just recognize that your child is developing at his/her own rate with your love and support.  That sounds wonderful... but could Joshua pllleeeeeaasssseee just learn to use the potty already?
     Okay, there's talk of breakfast being started and I hear cartoons in the living room.
     Unconditional Love.  Now this is something I know for a fact that my mother got from her mother.  My grandmother has always told us about unconditional love and so has my mother.  So no matter how much we disagreed and whatever trouble we got in, my brother, sister and. I always knew that our mom loved us.  So when my boys hear me say "I love you up to the moon and down into the Earth", they know that I love them that much every day, no matter what.
     Happy Mother's Day to my sisters, my friends, my grandmother, my mother-in-law and most of all to you Mom!  I love you up to the moon and down into the Earth!

Turn Down That Racket

     The drive home today was beautiful so I decided to open up the sun roof, roll the windows down a quarter of the way, turn off National Public Radio and blast some good driving music. The truth is, I've been doing a lot of driving with the music on lately.  Usually I crave the voices of my NPR friends but lately with spring in the air and the death of a Beastie Boy, I really just want to hear some of my old favorite music.
     All weekend we've been dancing to Girls! and Intergalactic and Fight For Your Right.  I've gotten Liam, Joshua and all of the cousins to break out into dance.  I've even been pulling out some of my old favorite dance moves including the Roger Rabbit and that cowboy lasso thing.  Yes, once a dork, always a dork.  At any rate, I figured what better way to pay tribute to a rock star than to spend the weekend listening and dancing to rock star music or some funky spin-off genre. 
     So on the way home today it was Alanis Morissette singing about ex-boyfriends and all things ironic.  She sang me all the way to Liam's school... until I felt compelled to shut her off and roll up my windows like every other self-respecting carpool mom.  I mean, after all, she swears in her songs and the CDs don't bleep that out.
     Have I been closeting my musical preferences for my kids?  When I listen to music now I stick with Norah Jones (who Joshua calls his "ladybug"- not sure where he got that), Dave Matthews Band (who I never ever get to see in concert anymore) and the Beatles.  Love those Beatles. "Let it Be" is on Joshua's bedtime CD and could listen to just that song for hours... or maybe just on repeat for 15 minutes. And I get in the mood for Norah every time I call my doctor's office and am put on hold.  Mostly if we want to dance in the house, we turn on a Sandra Boynton CD.  If you haven't heard any of them, I do highly recommend her CDs Philadelphia Chickens and Dogtrain (she has others too). 
     All this music makes me smile and maybe even dance but rarely do I get into a frenzy like I do when I hear Girls!  But then again, isn't Girls! sending the wrong message about objectifying women into stereotypical roles of domestic lifestyles?  And I certainly can't allow Alanis to go swearing around my kids either.  Then I'm ruling out other favs too like Red Hot Chili Peppers, Cake (the double meanings abound) and Sublime (yes, a suburban girl listening to Sublime, call it lame if you want to).  Yeah, I really think I need to draw the line with music somewhere maybe after Red Hot Chili Peppers and Dave Matthews Band... but well before Alanis and Sublime.
     Bill doesn't seem to have any problem sharing his musical tastes with the boys.  We once played rock song after rock song for Liam- starting with Metallica and working all the way up to Primus- and he didn't seem satisfied with the amount of *rock* and *heavy metal*... until we gave up and I popped in Alvin and the Chipmunks and it turns out that was what he wanted in the first place.
     Maybe I'm not giving my kids the credit they deserve.  And maybe even if the music isn't really appropriate, maybe it's okay to play sometimes anyway... especially if they're dancing too much to really notice the words or consider their symbolic meaning.  But I think next time when I roll into the school parking lot I will probably roll up my windows and turn down the volume... especially if I'm listening to NPR.  I wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm a dork or anything.