Worst Best Mom

Stepping Back

2012-03-11T14:53:00.002-07:00

     Swings. For years I've tried to avoid them. Not because they aren't fun. Not because it isn't good for kids to feel the sensation of flying... but because I hate standing there pushing and pushing... and getting yelled at and yelled at to keep on... pushing and pushing (x2 kids). I can understand Joshua asking for a push. He doesn't want to go very high anyway. But with Liam it has just been "higher and higher" and it never is high enough and he always wants to keep going and going. What he has failed to realize is that swinging should be self-sufficient. For years we have tried to get him to coordinate putting his feet out and tucking them under... but he just hasn't gotten it. We've demonstrated (that's the fun part)... but he still hasn't gotten it. We've nagged him; we've refused to keep on pushing; we've made up chants like "out" and "in" but nothing has been working.
     And then, earlier just this afternoon, Liam said to me, "Look Mommy I can pump my legs!" and he did it. He just did it. After years of nagging and coaxing, he just started pumping those legs. I was no where nearby. I wasn't there to nag or anything... and he just did it. Maybe his aunt gave him some words of encouragement, or maybe it was watching his cousins pump their legs... but Liam just started to swing all by himself. And then he said (brace yourselves), "Mommy, instead of my 20 minutes with my DS when we get home, can I just practice my swinging?" and I said, "Yes?"
     So I sat in the car with Joshua while he finished up his car-ride nap and Liam raced to the backyard to practice his swinging. He figured out how to start swinging without pushing off and he even practiced jumping onto his feet off of the swing. Amazing.
     You know when you've spent months- or years- working on a milestone and it just clicks? It's, like, incredible. How did they learn to do that? (as if you didn't spend countless hours reinforcing the behavior)
     It's not like it hasn't happened before. Months spent rolling and slithering around can suddenly turn into a backwards crawl; which evolves into a frontways speedster crawler. Months spent quizzing your kids on each letter and yet it will blow your mind the first time your child recites the whole alphabet. Time spent worrying that your child will never start talking and then before you know it, you'll be having a scientific discussion in the car about how radio waves work or about what type of super hero they want to become when they grow up.
     Right now I'm right in the middle of forcing a milestone with Joshua and it's really not going so well. See, he was potty trained pretty well for the month of July but utterly refused to continue into the month of August to the point where we closed up his potty for the entire Fall and Winter and only used it as a stool for him to reach the sink. Aside from constant guilt trips as we changed his diaper, "Joshy, poopy belongs in the potty, not your diaper", we didn't really push the issue. Then over February Break, I started from scratch. Sticker charts had failed us before so I pushed right into bad-mommy territory and started giving Josh a piece of candy every time he used the potty. Motivated by Skittles, M&M's and Pez, he started to go pee again on the potty. But not #2. It's a quandary really. Pull-ups don't work so great with #2 but yet if you put him in a diaper, it's harder to pull down his pants in time for #1. So we continue the guilt trips and the bribery and the completely forceful nature of our parenting styles. I just can't let it go. I know that some of Joshua's hesitance is fear and the need for control. But it just doesn't matter to me. I need for him to use that potty. I see the end of diapers in sight and I just can't stand that we're not there yet.
     How does potty training relate to swinging? I know that if I step back, things will happen naturally and that there is plenty of time.   When Liam was ready to swing, he did. He figured out that it would look a little absurd for Mom and Dad to be pushing him on a playground swing at the age of 10. Or better yet, he realized how amazing it feels to be pumping your own legs, going just as high as you can go and feeling like you're flying; even if just for a moment. Liam got that taste of independence and it motivated him to keep trying. I'm hoping so much that someday soon Joshua will get that same big idea, that he doesn't need a diaper following him around all day and that he can control his own destiny... by using the potty. Maybe I'm reading into it too much. Maybe it's like I said; I just need to step back. Liam's got the swings in the backyard, Joshy's got his potty in the bathroom. Soon enough Joshua will achieve his own milestone. And when he does no one will be as happy for him as me.

What's In Your Pocket?

2012-03-05T18:37:00.000-08:00

     My pockets are always full and it isn't cash... it's trash. I've got gum wrappers, golf tees, pennies and fortune cookie fortunes; all in my pockets. And it's becoming quite a chore to remember to empty them out each night.
     Oh Mom, I do so remember passing my little bits of garbage up to you in the front seat while you drove us to this practice or that person's house or from one party to another school function. I remember handing you crumpled up wrappers and sticky wads of gum. What I didn't consider then and that I know all to well now is that you had no garbage in the front seat of that car and you didn't really have time to make one. So instead you probably did what I do now. You probably stuffed the trash into your travel coffee mug (were travel coffee mugs even invented back then... no seriously, I can't fathom a world without travel coffee mugs). Or maybe you had one of those ash trays that they no longer install in cars. Or perhaps you had left that nice plastic bag on the stick shift after your last oil change. But more likely than not... you stuffed that garbage into your pockets.
     Here's what I don't get about being passed car garbage. It's not like the kids pass me all of their garbage (they just think they do). No, there's plenty of garbage left strewn around their seats too. Stuffed into crevices of my backseat there are french fries and crayons, tokens and tickets, wasted stickers and fake tattoos. I cringe when I find the top of one of those sauces from McDonalds. True, they're passing me plenty of garbage... yet somehow they seem to be sitting in their own little landfill back there. And in my defence, it's really too cold out for me to clean out the car right now... maybe over Spring break.
     Wherever we go, I leave with tissues, tags, candy wrappers and maybe even small art projects... all stuffed into my pockets. we go many places so I'm always on the look out for garbage cans (yes kids, there is a such thing as garbage cans) to empty my pockets. I'm met there by moms of other children (young and old- I must admit to passing my own Mom garbage even when I see her now today) who are all emptying their pockets into the garbage cans. Sometimes we find stuffed up wads of money that we didn't have time to put away properly... but usually it's those clingy clear straw wrappers from juice boxes.
     Don't get me started on the laundry! If I forget to empty out my pockets those tissues become crunchy wads of lint in my pockets glued by snot to faded carnival tickets. Yet oddly, when I empty out the boys' pockets I find... nothing. No garbage. I suppose if anything I feel appreciative that at least they don't have a rock collection or bug carcasses in their pockets but mostly I'm thinking: why don't they just put their own garbage in their own pockets?
     In an effort to be productive and not just to whine, I've come up with some solutions for moms who wish to stop this endless cycle of trash in their family:
1) When your child approaches you with garbage, put your hands in the air (out of their reach) and back up.
2) Direct them to the nearest garbage can... or their father.
3) Wear exercise pants (even when you're not exercising) because they have no pockets. Don't give into temptation to start stuffing trash under the elastic waistband.
4) Make your kids empty out your pockets before you do your laundry (a bad idea if you're hiding anything from your kids... like extra change).
5) Stop handing trash to your own mother, thus setting a bad example.

Super Mommy

2012-02-26T13:04:00.000-08:00

     This morning Joshua cuddled up to me (and by cuddling, I mean crazy head butting) and called me "Super Mommy". I didn't take it to be like the kind of Super Mom you brag about on a coffee mug. Afterall, he had just called himself "Super Joshua" and, of course, Liam was "Super Liam". But it got me thinking... maybe Joshua does actually think I have super powers.
     This makes sense because he insists on me immediately providing him with oatmeal even when he can see me taking steps to prepare it with his own two eyes. I can even say, "I'm heating the water for your oatmeal." and then Joshua will reply, "Where's my oatmeal?" When it comes to breakfast, neither of the boys seem to really care about my dining experience. I may have just sat down with a nice bowl of crunchy frosted mini-wheats, when in no time at all I am told by one of the boys, "I am out of milk" or "I dropped my spoon". I look around the room trying to figure out who they are telling this to. Surely, they don't expect me to jeopardize my cereal to help them. But actually, they do. I wonder if they think I have super speed that allows me to conjure up their breakfasts without my own suffering with soggy cereal. Or maybe they think I'm so invincible that soggy cereal is no concern for me. Perhaps that's the case.
     Speaking of meals, I want to know why it is that no matter what I ask Joshua he wants to eat, he somehow always decides to change his mind once the meal is served to him. Again, perhaps he thinks I have super powers to reverse time and prepare him his new choice instead of what is in front of him. The other day we packed our lunch for a day trip. I have several witnesses who can attest that he did actually agree to peanut butter and jelly... and yet when we opened the lunch bag he wanted ham and cheese and insisted that he had asked for that in the first place. Since I have no powers of time travel, I was only able to convince him to eat what I had made him (so he could then have his pudding).
     It seems that the boys really do think I am powerful enough to multi-task like a super hero. They really do think I can get their drink at the same time that I am vacuuming or that I can find the remote when it's buried under couch cushions. When I get Joshua dressed every morning he yells at me... literally yells at me... to put on his socks- while I am still putting on his pants. As if I could do both at once... as if. I'll tell you what's super human; putting on this kids' shoes while he tries to run away and kicks his feet around.
    In movies super heros are treated with respect... and awe. No one can believe how powerful they are and they are forever in dept to their service. Superman never had to tell one of the people he saved to say, "Thank you". Wonderwoman never had to prompt- "Now what do you say, Dear?"
     I've got no super powers. At best, I have super hearing... but that's only because of the baby monitors we have around the house. Instead I have to figure out how to prepare Josh's oatmeal, put on his socks and pick out the right pants all at the same time that I am buttering Liam's english muffin and putting it on a blue plate (god forbit it's pink) with apple juice in a glass cup. Plus there's the stuff they don't think about that a mom does need to remember... like returning library books, vacuuming the floors and washing winter coats because they keep rubbing up against the dusty salty car.
     Or maybe I'm just reading into it too much. Maybe Joshua just called me "Super Mommy" because he wanted me to stop worrying so much about the vacuuming, whose spoon is on the floor and what flavor oatmeal he asked for. Maybe he wanted me to just stand with him on the sofa and take a flying leap and then a roll onto the floor. Maybe he just wanted me to play Super Heros with him... after I put on his socks.

What's Your Toy-Q?

2012-02-21T19:40:00.001-08:00

Anyone who has tried to carry on a conversation with me over the past five years can probably attest to the fact that I'm a lot less sharp than I used to be. See, before kids I would have used the word "articulate". Granted, I've always had trouble splitting a check with friends (with tip) but now it seems like I'm even more dumb than before. I'm so dumb that I can't even think of a good example about how dumb I am right now (I may very well think of six once I'm done posting). Now I think I know why I'm not so smart anymore. It's my theory that all 110 points of my IQ (this is not confirmed, just a guess) are being wasted at classifying kids' toys. Now you can give it a try... What's your toy IQ? Two points for every answer- one for a correct type of toy and a second point if you can name the brand!

Disclaimer: This quiz might be only slightly gender biased... I don't have any Polly Pocket dresses lying around. But I did try to choose gender neutral toys for the purpose of fairness.

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.

21.

Well? How did you do? Let's find out if you're as smart as me (which means you've likely diverted most of your intelligence to toy classification too).

1. Lincoln Logs window

2. Candy Land man

3. Mr. Potato Head's ear

4. Elefun butterfly

5. Red cylinder puzzle block (by ?)

6. Red wooden block by Imaginarium (I think)

7. Fisher Price doctor kit blood pressure bulb

8. Let's Go Fishing (blue fishy)

9. Ants In My Pants (green ant that looks more like a grasshopper)

11. Nerf dart gun

12. Silly Band guitar

13. Rock and Roll Mr. Potato Head's earring

14. Chameleon from the dentist's office grab bag (notice how he is camouflaged to match the stains on my table)

15. Peas

16. Batman's bat thingy from Imaginext

17. Stylus for Nintendo DS

18. Trio block

19. Bristle blocks by Playskool

20. Stinker from Uno Moo

21. I have no idea what this is. I found it at the bottom of a toy box. You get an extra 20 points if you know what this is and you post a comment.

Romance

2012-02-13T18:08:00.000-08:00

     I love cheese... but I hate cheesiness. And that is why I need to apologize to many of you. I'm sorry if some of my posts have caused you to throw up in your mouth a little bit. I know, it's gross... but so are inspirational quote books. That being said, it is Valentine's Day and I do need to be a little bit romantic. I will do my best to write a Valentine that won't make you gag... too much.

     A few years ago when I had time to talk philosophically (clearly before kids), I asked a good friend who is also a male to tell me the most romantic gesture he could think of. He said it was to take a delicate necklace and to wrap it around a single rose. I almost cried... laughing. No, that's not romantic to me at all. And neither is a 4 foot teddy bear that I would just put in my kids' room. I'll tell you that over the years I've gotten a lot of flowers from Bill (that's because we've been together for a long time, not because he gets me a lot of flowers). The most romantic flowers I remember ever getting from him was 4 roses. I'm not 100% sure but I think it was for our 6 month anniversary. We were teenagers and I was at a friends' house waiting for him and he showed up late and I was furious. And then I got 4 roses and I was confused. What was the significance of 4 roses? Apparently the other two had a mis-hap and got... well deflowered. I couldn't get too mad... after all, here he was... with 4 roses and a funny story that I can't fully remember now. But I do remember this- that they were very pretty roses and I didn't stay mad at him because dropping two roses on the ground and bringing me the other 4... well, for some reason that's romantic to me.

     Most recently the most romantic gesture I've received is... a full tank of gas. I got into my car in the school parking lot, ready to head home and there it was... a full tank of gas in a car that was running close to empty. Bill had been "in the neighborhood" and decided to fill up the tank. He also left my seat in the far back position, which kind of gave away who had performed this awesome deed. Of course, that's not his only romantic gesture of late. He's in the process of fixing our furnace- which included weeks of troubleshooting and waking up in the middle of the night to turn it back on so we didn't wake up as icicles. He has cooked us ribs, steak tips, chicken wings, frozen pizza and cheeseburger surprise... all in the last two weeks. He got me new tires and paid extra to get me all 4... because it's safer that way. He doesn't complain when I snore. He's mid-way through reading the Chronicles of Narnia to Liam (we've agreed, I'll read the series to Joshua). He lets me drink coffee out of his mug every morning. He saved us over $1200 in airfare for our first official family vacation in, well, never. Come to think of it, this is a guy I could probably stay married to for, well, forever.

     Sorry if I just made you throw up in your mouth a little bit.

Getting the Wrong Ideas

2012-02-09T18:14:00.000-08:00

     Early on I have tried to instill self-monitoring in my children. This is to say, I'm too lazy to get off the couch and stop their poor behavior. Often I will say, "It seems like a bad idea"... instead of outright saying "NO" or "I'll go get your father if you don't stop that." And like most brothers, these guys have had their fair share of Bad Ideas.
     Hiding a Christmas stocking full of candy under a couch cushion is clearly a bad idea. If you are going to be sneaky, you should hide candy somewhere where it is actually hidden. I would suggest in your room. The couch is too public a place and the raised up cushion is just too obvious. On the off chance that someone will sit down anyway, you are also running the risk of melted chocolate and broken candy canes. Bad Idea.
     Cutting your own hair to make a reverse mohawk is also a bad idea. If you are in the mood to cut hair, instead of practicing on your own, I would suggest cutting your little brother's hair instead. It's not such a big deal for a baby to have a bad haircut... but a Kindergartner? Now that's just uncool. What's worse, your mom might find your bad haircut hilarious and make you suffer by not getting you a real haircut for 2 weeks after the bad cut. Then you will have to walk around with the middle part of your bangs cut to the scalp while the rest of your bangs cover your eyes. I do appreciate that you used kiddie scissors but... Bad Idea.
     For some reason the kids really do think our couches are jungle gyms. They like to run across the cushions and really have no preference for the cushions being on the couch or on the floor. Either way, they leap to and fro. They make loops around the living room. Despite many pleas and shouts from parents, part of this loop involves a drop from the arm of the sofa to the floor. This is not expensive furniture and there are obvious concerns over the wood frame breaking but I'm more concerned with the possible broken necks as they slide from the arm to the floor. Inevitably someone ends up on top of someone else and there there is the obligatory crying. Bad Idea.
     Lollipops are great parenting strategies... or tools... or whatever you want to call them. Lollipops can persuade a child to sit quietly while Mommy and Daddy go holiday shopping. They can reward someone for calmly sitting to get their hair cut (to correct their mistake with kiddie scissors). Lollipops are a great treat, it's true, but walking around with a lollipop in your hand and not eating it right away... is not such a great idea. Give it some time, you will drop the lollipop and it will be covered in hair from the hair salon's waiting room carpet. That's why, if Mommy gives you a lollipop, you should enjoy it right away instead of walking around with it. That's a Bad Idea.
     This shouldn't surprise me. When Bill and his brothers were little I hear they rode down the stairs in a laundry basket. Bad Idea. He also washed a car... with charcoal lighter fluid. Bad Idea. While Bill was learning life lessons, I was too. I learned that if I thought it was fun to jump in the town sandpit barefoot, there were just as many people who found it fun to drink and throw bottles in that same sandpit and that I was bound to land barefoot onto one of those broken bottles. Bad Idea. No, it really shouldn't surprise me. I once cut my bangs too after all... right to the scalp... when I was in middle school. As if I wasn't enough of a dork in middle school, I had to wear a thick elastic headband for several weeks until it was presentable (actually it still wasn't presentable a couple of weeks later, but I was a dork anyway so it wasn't that big a deal... plus this was back in the day when curling and spraying bangs was the norm). Anyway, I agree about cutting hair. It's a Bad Idea.
     Bad Ideas seem about as inevitable as toothpaste on the bathroom counter. They're just going to happen. You can warn against them, but some life lessons need to be learned on their own.
     Sometimes you need to learn lessons the hard way. I suppose I learn lessons from my own Bad Ideas each and every day. I don't try to cut my own hair anymore and I've completely stopped having fun in a dare-devilish way. I don't remember the last time I saw Bill coast down the stairs in a laundry basket. Here's to hoping that next time Joshua gets a lollipop, he'll just enjoy it right away instead of coveting and then dropping it. And here's to hoping that Liam will not cut his own hair again... or Joshua's for that matter. And as for the Christmas stocking... seriously Liam, find a better hiding spot.

How I Bleached Our Nursery Room Rocker

2012-01-31T18:28:00.000-08:00

Ever go on a tirade around the house? It starts something like this...

What is that stuff in the back of that drawer?
Ew... this drawer too?
Maybe it's time to apply the new shelf paper I bought six months ago.
But first I need to do the dishes because this is going to be a mess.
But first I need to empty the dishwasher because I still haven't emptied last night's load.
Where is Liam? He's supposed to do the silverware.
Liam! What is this mess? Let me help you clean it up.
Okay, now the dishes are done and it's time to get back to work.
Oh, I thought I cleaned out all of the syrup when it fell into the silverware drawer.
Hmm... maybe I should just put a new layer of shelf paper on top of the old layers...
(Improper attempt to rationalize laziness) Afterall, shelf paper will stick better to other pieces of shelf paper, right?
Moment of rationality... No, then I'd have to clean the old shelf paper. If I take it off, it's easier anyway so I can still meet my daily lazy quota.
Why do we have so many take-out chopsticks?
How many bottle openers do we need?
I think I can throw out this bottle opener we got from the Vatican 9 years ago... the Pope's face fell off it awhile back anyway so now it's just a plain old bottle opener. No more irony.
I think I'll go the extra step by spraying the drawers with Lysol... better go outside.
Why is it such a nice day... in January?
All of our windows need to be opened right now.
Dammit. Most of our windows are covered with that window insulating plastic... better just open the other ones.
Joshua's window is too well insulated (only window in the house with those cozy insulated permanent shades)... his windowsill is actually black. That's probably not good. I better clean it with some mildew remover.
Oh my god, I have so much to do. I still haven't finished the drawers.
Where did I put that spray?
Oh, it's on the rocker.
Hmmm... it seems to be leaking bleach onto my rocking chair.
Insert swear word here.
I should probably tell Bill so he doesn't sit on the chair and bleach his jeans later.

Full disclosure: At some point in this barely productive madness I yelled at Bill who was being so unproductive. I mean, all he did so far on this day was take Liam to bowling league and then fix our furnace. I also forgot to tell him about the bleached chair. Ooops.
Full disclosure: By some grace of God, I actually had a lunch date with a friend so I got out of the house and thereby regained a good amount of sanity. It's a good thing I regained some sanity because Bill had his own Bowling League even to attend so... it was just two kids and a crazy mom for the evening.
And this is how any good tirade really should end...

Oh! It's getting dark and we have no drawers.
But our tupperware cupboard is so accessible, as I'm putting dishes away, I can just throw the tupperware into the open drawer slot and it falls into the cupboard below.
I'd better get our drawers.
Ack! Liam! What are you doing with that shelf paper! Stick it back on to the backing! I'm not ready yet!
Joshua! Come back with the roll! It's not a weapon!
I am the best mom ever, I'm teaching Liam how to use the measuring tape correctly.
Wow, Liam is not really a straight cutter is he.
How am I supposed to put shelf paper on straight when Joshua is sticking his face directly in front of my face and holding on to my hair with both hands?
Is it possible that Liam is better at putting this on straight and without bubbles than I am?
Now that we're done, I'm totally feeling fine. I can totally handle making spaghetti and meatballs.
What was I thinking? Why did I think I could handle cooking a real meal tonight?
What is Joshua talking about? Why do I need to argue with a 2 year old even though I know I'm right? (It is at this moment that Joshua has come into the kitchen waving around a plastic tomato from his kitchen set. He got into an argument with me that I was in no position to win despite the fact that I was right... and he threw his plastic tomatoes into the hot oven)
Huh, imagine that. Joshua just happened to throw his plastic tomato at the exact moment that the oven was open and now it's in the back corner... unreachable to me.
I need potholders... but they're all being washed.
I can't get to the plastic tomato because the hot grates are in the way.
I can't put the grates on top of the oven because that's where the banana muffins are (did I mention I made banana muffins this morning).
I'll have to lay the grates on top of the oven door... precariously of course.
I should probably be wearing shoes.
Smoke from burning plastic is probably not good, right?
Why doesn't Joshua understand karma? Or irony?

At bedtime we all sat down for a story... on the couch so I wouldn't bleach my pants on the rocker in the nursery.

Wowwipops and Melmo

2012-01-26T18:07:00.000-08:00

     Lately Joshua has been running up and down our hallway with a stick shouting "Grabba Grabba". Bill and I were a bit perplexed. Was he talking about "Yo Gabba Gabba"? Hopefully not for all of our own sanity (don't ever watch that show if you value sanity). Then Liam joined in waving his own stick saying, "Pocus Pocus" and it immediately became apparent. The boys were magicians.
     Every so often, Bill and I channel our inner speech therapists and try to coach the boys into speaking with correct pronunciation and grammar. We try to teach Joshua that "Pick I up" just doesn't sound right but then he just gets mad that he's still standing on the floor with his hands stretched up to us. We try to teach Liam to pronounce the L's in lollipop too... but that just hasn't clicked yet either.
     Over the years the kids have come up with some interesting translations. Often it takes awhile to figure out what they are saying. I had a friend who was very lucky. Her preschooler consistently substituted "f" for the tr sound. Having such a pattern of mispronunciation was probably helpful for her since she usually knew what he was saying... and it was super fun asking him to identify vehicles on the thruway.
     Bill and I have had our favorite mispronunciations over the years. We still call the remote a "goodmote" and even though Liam now pronounces "oatmeal" correctly, my mother and sister still call it "oatmo". It's like we have our own secret language under this roof. I can ask for a "goofier" and Bill knows to grab me a screwdriver. No one in our house knows who Elmo is but we've all heard of "Melmo".
     The other day I happened upon a video clip of Liam reading with his grandmother. He was wearing the same pj's in the video that Joshua wears now. I recognized the chubby cheeks of a shorter Liam but I hadn't realized just how much his voice had changed over these past couple of years. His squeaky voice is gone and now most of what he says actually makes sense. Sometimes I think it's best not to help the boys with the correct pronunciation. Who wants to say good bye to that cute squeaky voice that insists on more "miwk". I must admit, I miss Liam's faintly german dialect, "Put on mine coat" or "I want mine own bowl". And I think I will miss Joshua's "Pick I up" soon enough too. So maybe I'm secretly happy that the grammar lessons haven't quite sunk in yet for Joshua. But just in case, I'll have to make a few videos of him wearing those same pj's.

Monitoring All Communications

2012-01-15T13:37:00.000-08:00

     Liam's baby monitor has been on the fritz lately. Yeah, you heard me... Liam's baby monitor. The Liam that is about to turn 6 has a baby monitor. In my defense, he has nightmares and his room is downstairs and on the other side of the house.
     For years now, the monitor has been usable only while on its charging base. It's long since lost it's ability to travel 90 feet away. Now a dust mite crawling between the sensors can get it started beeping with its red light.  I'm assuming that is what is happening because every night the monitor beeps at us from my dresser, sometimes just after we've fallen asleep, often in the middle of the night when we're never quite sure what woke us up... Yet every night Bill or I go into Liam's room and we click that monitor to make sure it's working from his end.
     Time to get rid of the monitor, right? Wrong. I can think of a hundred reasons why I need Liam's monitor on each night. There are the nightmares, true, but also what if his baseboard heater catches fire from a rogue Lego? What if someone breaks into the house? What if he falls off his bed? What if he gets sick? Joshua still has his monitor, why wouldn't we need one for Liam too? What if either of them needs us in the middle of the night?
     I'm not overprotective, really. When everyone's awake, I see no real need for a monitor now that both kids are a little older. In fact, I've been known to turn off their monitors after we put them down for bedtime (sometimes this is just necessary. It's hard to hear Desperate Housewives when Joshua is screaming, "Me want juice. Me no want water. Me want juice. Me no want water. Me want juice....").
     I'm also not overly sentimental about my kids growing up. Really, I actually enjoy having conversations with Liam now and I think watching Joshua becoming a real grown up kid is kind of cool too. Babies can't break out into spontaneous mosh pits in the living room or talk about farts and poops at the dinner table. They're not really as fun as having big kids. I wasn't even upset when Liam boarded the bus for Kindergarten (Hello? Free day-time care with the added benefit of learning?)! Believe me, I won't be sad when I can get rid of Josh's Diaper Champ either. So it's not emotions that keep me holding onto that monitor... at least not the emotion of being overly sentimental.
    It's clear that I will not be parting with Liam's monitor anytime soon. But when I think about it, I'm pretty sure he shouldn't have a monitor in his room when he's an 8 year old. So sometime between not yet and 8. That seems specific enough. Until then I think I'll just cope with the beeping. On second thought, I think instead of getting rid of the monitor, I will just disguise it. I won't keep it on all the time, just sometimes... I wonder how many of us had hidden baby monitors in our rooms when we were teens. Ok, that's a really creepy thought. I think it'll have to go sometime... but not until he's 8.

A Perfect Match

2012-01-05T17:29:00.000-08:00

     The boys are playing blocks in the living room. Joshua drinks coffee out of a cylinder-shaped block and then hands it to Liam who adds it to the top of his tower. They talk in their own little rambling language about monster houses and treasure boxes. In the mornings they take off every couch cushion, pillow and blanket to make a big mountain to sit on or to tunnel through while Mommy and Daddy oversleep. Yesterday evening they actually moved all of the furniture in Joshua's room, along with his toy box full of toys and, yes, even his Diaper Champ, in front of his door locking their parents out of their so-called "hide out". They have entire 20 minute conversations using Karaoke microphones ("Hi", "Hi", "Hi", "Hi", "Hi", etc...). If Joshua sits down for dinner with an apple juice, Liam asks to sit right next to him with "what Joshy has." They conspired in numerous ways to steal Christmas candy- from hiding their stockings and sharing the loot to sneaking out of the candy jar and hiding behind the couch and using each other's pockets.
      Liam has grown up with no shortage of friends. In preschool Liam met a kid who can only be thought of as real "best friend" quality. It's not hard to meet a friend, but a good friend... that's much harder to come by. I was worried at first when Liam told me about his best friend- was it one sided? Until his friend's parents told me that he had said he plans on marrying Liam. Phew. What a relief!  The boys were inseparable, except when their teachers separated them. This is how awesome a friendship it was: They were having a contest that only a mother could make up, a who-can-clean-up-faster-contest. When Liam realized he was losing, his BFF actually gave Liam some of the trash. True, they bickered sometimes but overall it was a good scene... I didn't realize how good a scene until we had to start from scratch again in Kindergarten.
    Seeking out a best friend isn't easy. It's hard not to compare everyone to the original BFF and it takes tough skin to endure being overlooked. Of course, I'm speaking from my perspective. Every time Liam told me about a friend who tattled on him or who got mad at him, I couldn't help but compare them unfavorably to the preschool best buddy and feel a little dejected myself. Liam was just a little confused about why his best friend wasn't in his class (or school). I would badger him on the car ride home asking who he played with, what he played, who he talked to. We even practiced introducing himself before the first day of school. In retrospect, maybe sending him to school that first day in a button up shirt and tie having taught him how to say, "Hi, my name is Liam. I like Transformers. What is your name? What do you like?" might have been a little bit of a red flag for prospective friends.
     Eventually Liam announced that he had found a best friend. Also silly and also smart, they seemed to be a good match. They were in the same class and the same after school program. It was great seeing Liam settled and happy, talking about his best friend... until I picked Liam up one day and overheard his K-buddy say, "I'm not your friend right now. Maybe I'll be your friend tomorrow." Good grief. Worse than back to square one, this set us back quite a bit. Try convincing a 5 year old that his BFF wasn't such a good friend after all. I knew it would be a hard sell so I tried not to be too obvious, beyond the casual, "A friend is supposed to make you happy..." or "What would a good friend say?". I admit it, after hearing similar statements over a period of a couple of weeks at pick up time, I kind-of-also suggested to the other child that maybe instead of reneging his friendship several times a day (that's me being sarcastic, I didn't actually say that to him) he could just "ask for a break". Predictably, none of these passive aggressive tactics worked so I just figured Liam would have this K-buddy and he could find a new best friend for 1st Grade. Until a few months into the school year when we received devastating news in the world of a 5 year old. His best friend was moving away... out of state. Devastation. Crying at bedtime. Over Thanksgiving, out of the blue Liam would look at one of us, bottom lip starting to tremble, and say pitiful things like, "I just remembered #@&%$ moved away." Silver lining? Now we were back at square one.
     This time I didn't do any coaching. I just suggested that Liam try playing with some other classmates. Instead his teacher coaxed another boy... one whose hair is styled in a mohawk and who always chooses books from the "Killer Hunter" series from the school library... to ask if Liam wanted to play. I try not to ask too often, but it seems that the friendship has staying power.
     So what is a friend? I've learned that now that the kids are older, I really do have less control over their choice of friends. But I do know this. After dinner today, Liam told Joshua who his real best friend is... (drum roll please) "You're my best friend Joshua." And Joshua agreed, "Liam, you're my best friend." And I couldn't have chosen a more perfect match myself.

Still Lying... And Proud of It

2011-12-28T13:04:00.000-08:00

     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?

Craft Glue Doesn't Dry Clear

2011-12-17T18:22:00.000-08:00

     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.

Decorating Our Home For the Holidays

2011-12-07T18:13:00.000-08:00

     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.

High Expectations

2011-11-27T13:41:00.000-08:00

     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.

What Did You Have For Dinner?

2011-11-20T13:24:00.000-08:00

     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...

The Truth About Lying

2011-11-11T07:13:00.000-08:00

     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.

How to Make a Haunted House

2011-10-26T15:51:00.000-07:00

     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

Clothes Karma

2011-10-16T15:18:00.000-07:00

     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).

Worst Best Mom: Revisited... Again

2011-10-05T18:05:00.000-07:00

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.

Terrible Toilet Talk

2011-09-25T18:25:00.000-07:00

     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."

Give Me A Break

2011-09-17T18:40:00.000-07:00

     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.

Milestones

2011-09-08T18:36:00.000-07:00

     "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.

Listening Ears

2011-09-03T19:10:00.000-07:00

     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...

Motherly Qualities

2011-08-29T19:22:00.000-07:00

     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.

Goodnights Seem To Last All Night

2011-08-21T18:48:00.000-07:00

      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.

Two Steps Back

2011-08-13T13:45:00.000-07:00

     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.

Why I Had To Vacuum Twice This Weekend

2011-08-09T18:50:00.000-07:00

     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.

They Have Tear Free Shampoo, Why Not Scream Free?

2011-08-01T18:40:00.000-07:00

     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.

Coupon Crazed

2011-07-26T13:48:00.000-07:00

     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.

Worst Best Mom Revisited

2011-07-23T19:16:00.000-07:00

     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.

Kitties and Kids

2011-07-17T18:52:00.000-07:00

     This weekend we stopped by my Father-In-Law's house. He has two kitties, Cheddar and Figaro. They live in the (finished) basement while company is over. I grew up with cats so I like to visit Cheddar and Figaro whenever I get a chance. This time I had to cut my visits short though. It started fine, I walked downstairs and the kitties perked their heads around the corner to say hello. They pressed their furry heads into my hand to get more pets and pats and scratches. I walked away and they followed me so I pet them some more. And then Figaro hissed at me. Really hissed. So I left the basement.
     I don't have a cat now but I do have a Joshua and a Liam. I think I learned a lot about kids by being owned by a cat. Growing up with cats, I know that Figaro isn't really a bad kitty or very different from any of the cats I ever had. See, cats are very particular about their humans and I'm just not Figaro's human. Joshua is like Figaro, he likes to look cute for just about anyone who smiles at him. He bats his eyelashes at grown ups in grocery stores and goes out of his way to look cute whenever it's convenient for him. But if a grown up who is not his human tries to pick him up, he'll throw a big fit that isn't at all cute. And here's the thing with Joshua, he's fairly fickle so you may be his human one day, but not the next (we call this the "Mommy Crush" and the "Daddy Crush"). Liam is a bit more like Cheddar, he's friendly to everyone, follows you around like a stick of glue and, while he doesn't exactly arch his back up to get scratched just below his tail, he does like to wrap every inch of his string bean legs and arms around you for a big hug.
     Cats like to be where you are. And so if you are reading a book, they want to position themselves directly between you and the pages of that book. If you are playing a board game on the coffee table or, god-forbid, the floor, they will want to sit directly on top of that board game. I've found that my children are fairly similar. Their favorite toy is the one that the other brother is playing with.  When Liam and I play Candy Land, Joshua has been known to come over and sit on our game board. This ever-presence s the real reason why- despite the fact that it is summer vacation, I haven't yet opened the sequel to The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.
   Cats demand your attention at a moment's notice but give you less than a moment's notice when they're ready to be independent. They expect immediate withdrawl five seconds before they told you to stop petting them. How many kitties have I known to purr graciously at me and then spaz out with their claws batting me away?  Liam and Joshua are a little bit like that. They can come up to me for a hug but can I go asking for it? Probably not. Joshua will come up to me and lay his head on my lap but can I go asking for a kiss? Nope.
     The most fun thing about having a kitty or a kid is their curiosity. Bouncy balls never get old. We can't keep household string in our everything drawer because Liam has been known to unwind and entangle with any string left in the house. There's nothing quite so exciting to a kitty or a kid as a person coming to the door. Their faces light up when you walk in the door, they shout out your name (or meow) and immediately start acting irresistibly cute.
     Yes, cats can be stinky and so can children. Cats can scratch up your furniture with their claws and kids can (and probably will) scratch your new dining room table with a fork. Cats can hiss at your friends and kids will throw temper tantrums during your dinner parties. Cats can hiss at your guests and kids will refuse to smile for pictures. Cats and children both leave their toys strewn around the room. Cats and children both expect the world to revolve around them, on their schedules and according to their whims. But when they cuddle up close to you on the couch and look up at you with affection and love, they do just make you melt, don't they?

The Trouble With Tokens

2011-07-12T18:59:00.000-07:00

     I once worked at a daycare center that moved kids clothespins up a notch every day. If they were bad, they got moved back a notch. Once they moved enough notches, they would earn a fake $ to buy a prize. The result was a lot of threats: "Edward, I'm going to move you back a notch if you don't take turns on the slide..." It was even worse when Edward had already been moved back a notch (after numerous threats) and he looked at you expectantly, "Now what?"
     After a little bit of education on my part in classroom management classes and educational psychology, it became clear that this system of discipline fell under the category of "token economy". It's a token economy because the child expects the reward, or "token", to be dolled out every day. The tokens can then be taken back, even though they were never really earned (unless you consider not being bad "earning"). So besides being a pain in the neck (having to remember who I idly threatened vs. who actually needed to have their clothespin moved back), it also became clear to me that this was no way to discipline kids.
     From the educational psychology point of view, this is all well and good. In my classroom I rely mostly on natural consequences. Other consequences like writing a sentence 100x just don't seem to cut it when preparing kids for the real world. Instead I have them write a letter to the friend they offended, or clean the desk they drew on or stop playing with the toy they threw across the gym during indoor recess. That's not to say I haven't also relied on incentives- like marbles that add up to pajama day (flannel and slippers all day at work? Whose the real winner here?). I've even brought in candy corn to toss at them when they answer questions (just like a zookeeper tosses fish at seals who jump through hoops in a pool)!
     Now I'm a parent and let's be honest: Vygotsky, Piaget, Freud... really? Maybe that works in a classroom and maybe it works in a textbook. My guess is that while Piaget was carefully observing his children's behavior and stages of development, his wife was giving candy to keep them quiet while guests were over. My favorite book as a college student was called "Punished By Rewards The trouble with gold stars, incentive plans, A's, praise and other bribes" by Alfie Kohn. Great book, I consider it often.
     I'm a parent now and my favorite book that I don't have time to read is "I Was a Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids: Reinventing Motherhood" by Trisha Ashworth. No really, I haven't read it so I can't attest to how good it is, but you've got to love the title (and it got what appears to be 4 1/4 stars on Amazon.com).
     So now what? Am I all about breaking the rules of classroom management and educational psychology? Well first of all, no. I'm not parenting in a classroom but rather the wide world, there's more to parenting than managing children for a short period of time and psychology is more individual anyway. See, Liam doesn't respond well to incentives so of course I'm not going to over-use them. But they do work in the short term. If there's a really bad habit from nose picking to talking loudly, these things can be curbed by a simple piece of candy at the end of a day without boogery fingers or without busting an ear drum. I'm not exactly sure how I would be potty-training Joshua right now if it wasn't for incentives, but let's not go overboard, he's just getting a car sticker to put on a racetrack (and a potty dance, lots of clapping and smiles). Hey, whatever it takes to get something started (or ended), right?
     What about money? Here's the big issue. I've previously *bragged* that my boys help me with chores. Have you noticed I haven't brought it up lately? That's because they're no longer helpful and I do think I know why. See, they were being helpful and I was so appreciative I started to give them some change from our change jar. Random amounts, nothing specific. They seemed super excited and eager to help... until one day they just weren't. They didn't want to help. They didn't want the $. Maybe they figured out that 18 pennies isn't such great pay or maybe the money just sucked the fun out of the game of helping mommy. Whatever the reason, I think my sister-in-law was right with her chore chart & separate allowances. She did warn me, I'm just a bad listener.
     What's the conclusion then? What about rewards? What about punishments? Once something is given, I really don't like the idea of taking it away, unless it's a Nerf dart gun that was shot at someone's head. I like the concept of "intermittent reinforcement" which means giving reinforcements but being somewhat unpredictable about it. And let's not go overboard here, how about an old fashioned sticker or dish of ice cream from your own freezer. My poor kids, I doubt they'll ever earn big bucks for getting an A on their report card (I'm too cheap for that kind of incentive anyway). But on the other hand, when Liam asked me about Santa the other day and what if he doesn't get any presents I did tell him "Santa gives presents to every boy and girl, even if they misbehave..." and then I added, "but if they're bad he might just not be too thoughtful with the gift he gives."

Under Pressure

2011-07-06T11:42:00.000-07:00

"You know those stories you've heard about the Jewish immigrants fresh off the boat who lived in tenements, worked their tails off to earn a dime and wouldn't spend a penny of it? All of those stories are true, and those were my ancestors." I screamed this at my neighbor the other day, not because I was standing outside in the hot sun on a holiday, covered in mud, frustrated at a tedious task, with a case of the shakes & jitters, but because I had to scream so he would hear me over the incessant drone of the high pressure water pump behind me. "So no, I do not want to stop working tonight. I don't want to keep this stupid thing longer than we have to and I don't want to spend the extra $30 to keep it until tomorrow!" And I did continue working, even as my husband cooked ribs on the barbeque (to be fair, he didn't know the job would take this long and he did just get a new grill) and even as we had company in the backyard. And I kept on working until 4:00 pm when the water pump was due back at the rental office, at which time I had to concede; the job wasn't getting done until the next day.
But I was angry. I was angry about our sidewalk chipping, being refinished in an ugly grey color, repainted to look like the yellow brick road and repainted again to look gray only to start chipping and peeling away within a month or two. Up until recently we were baffled why we've had such poor luck with our front walkway. Apparently it's a latex-on-latex issue. You can't put one latex product on top of another. So who could I get angry at? The mason who is a good friend? Bill who bought the salt and used it to keep his family safe from falling on an icy walkway? Me for not being okay with grey cement or not going to the store to help pick it out? The home improvement store people for recommending paint instead of stain? Who? I tell you, I could drive myself crazy over this and after using the high pressure water thingy for well over 4 hours, I looked a bit like this (is it just me, or does this look like a witch- see her buggy white eyes? Bill claims it's just scribbles but he may have had me in mind here):

     All this was swimming around in my head until Bill said to me, "Why does it have to be someone's fault?" To be honest, he said that and it took a couple of days. I was angry and holding a grudge and digging with little comments- mostly directed at him. And for what? Why did it have to be someone's fault? And even if it was his fault, has he ever made a sidewalk before? [No] So why should I hold him accountable for the looks of cement?
     Meanwhile, I well know that there are many slippery slopes that lead directly to me. Take the ding in my windshield. Probably could have been patched up until I waited to get it fixed and it's now snaking it's way up about 10 inches. Oops. And to tell you the truth Liam, we were probably late to swimming lessons because I had to make my tea, not just because you had trouble finding your shoes.
     So I kept working like a crazy woman on that sidewalk until I couldn't possibly work anymore and we had already gone past the rental agreement. And there were still 3 slabs of sidewalk to go. Covered in mud and debris I headed inside to make myself human again. The next day (after swimming lessons) I was at it again with the pressure washer. It's a good thing I had worked so hard the day before too because I finished with no time to spare. I would have been spraying the sidewalk from the trunk of Bill's car as he drove back to Home Depot if he would have let me. No, but really, I think it was due back at 12:57 and he got there at about 12:53 or something like that!
     Now our sidewalk is clean and it's time for the next step. Regardless of blame and accusations, we'll plug away at it this weekend. Taking turns, arguing over the pattern to apply and the color to tint with. It really is miserable work, but at least we're in it together. And I have learned some valuable lessons too:
1) Don't paint cement refinisher with vinyl in it with a vinyl based paint (if that doesn't make sense to you, don't worry, I'm still a little confused too).
2) Never aim a water pressure gun at mud.
3) If you give your kid enough water to play with in the driveway, he might surprise you by doing something educational like making a "beaver dam".
4) Blaming your loved one might get you an apology but it will never make you (or him) happy.
5)When your husband does something terribly romantic, take a picture.

Grass Between My Toes

2011-07-02T13:13:00.000-07:00

     Where have I gone wrong? Joshua won't go outside without his shoes on. I used to run down the driveway barefoot to get the mail... and my driveway was a quarter mile long and covered in sharp rocks. Now my kid can't take the feeling of a hot deck on his little toes? That's okay, someone invented Crocs. Finally a shoe that can be slipped on without a mother's help. This is particularly convenient if you stop by a Mc Donald's playground.
     Right now Joshua has four pairs of shoes. I'm not saying he's got more than me, but for someone whose shoe size changes every few months, that seems like quite a few. He's got sneakers, sandles, Crocs and rain boots. Just what we need in the morning- more decisions to make. This is harder than you might think, "Do you want sandals, Crocs, sneakers or boots?" is often answered with a "No". In general though, after saying No, Joshua usually decides on whatever your first option was.
    The fact that Joshua has rain boots is completely irrelevant. Why is it that he needs to jump in puddles when he's wearing his suede sneakers? I suppose that's better than Liam who I actually caught using his rain boots as buckets.
     It would be worse, wouldn't it, if we had two daughters? Don't they have to own a variety of sandals, dress shoes, sneakers and more? So I guess I shouldn't be complaining too much. And we haven't yet gotten into sports that need their own unique shoes yet either. But still, I was a little put off when Liam, who has sneakers, Crocs, slippers, Merrells and rain boots (that match Joshua's), said "Mommy, when will you buy me sandals?"
     Of course, our family's favorite pair of sneakers were Joshua's Squeakers. Not that we'll ever buy them again, but they were our favorites. I found them at a local discount store, they were wide enough for the feet he inherited from his daddy, and they were very cute too. Plus they were more than half off and I love a good sale. We bought them when Joshua was just about to start walking last spring, but didn't yet want to. For some reason, I was highly motivated to get him walking so we tried the shoes. They were an immediate hit. Within a week he was walking full time, within two weeks he was running. But that's not why they were our favorite. Before the Squeakers, Joshua kept mostly to himself and to us. He was happy to save his smiles for his Mommy, Daddy and Liam. Once he got those sneakers, he wanted to walk everywhere. And everywhere he walked, there was squeaking. So wherever we went, Joshua attracted attention and smiles and he started to just eat it up. By the end of the summer, he was strutting around in public places waving and smiling to anyone who happened be looking.
     None of Joshua's sneakers squeak. Not his rain boots, his sandals, his sneakers or his Crocs. But he still waves to anyone who happens to be looking. Something tells me though that if I go back to that discount store to see if they have Squeakers in Liam's size, it just might be more annoying than cute. Perhaps I could find him some light up sandals. On second thought, next time he asks, I think I'll just suggest he go barefoot. Afterall, that's what I did when I was his age!

My Little Monkeys

2011-06-27T18:17:00.000-07:00

     When Joshua was born I thought about swaddling him in bubble wrap and/or buying him a miniature baby helmet to protect him from his bigger brother. Instead we just spent most of our time looming over Joshua to protect him from his incoming big brother who was usually running, often flailing and always bazonkers. It must be hard for a 3 year old to understand a baby. They don't talk, play or even make silly faces. Still, Liam did love his baby brother from the start and he "patiently" waited for Joshua to be able to crawl, and then walk and now run. And finally, they're on the same level now for playtime. It turns out that 5 year old humor is complimentary to 2 year old humor. While a 5 year old laughs whenever he says "poopy diaper", his 2 year old brother will almost always laugh just because the big brother is laughing.
    It turns out Liam is really funny... to Joshua. In fact, Liam is just plain awesome in Joshua's eyes. Joshua will do just about anything Liam will do. Liam taught him how to jump in puddles, roll down the stairs and even knock over blocks and make a general mess of things. The other night I overhead Liam trying to persuade Joshua to jump down two steps instead of just one. "Come on Joshua, you tried one step, now try two! I can do three! Can you do three steps?" I answered the question for Joshua with a definitive "No."
     My little brother and I used to chase each other in circles around the house until he would get too close. Then I would fling open the fridge door into his face and the whole scene would erupt into tantrums. Similar things seem to happen in my house. Instead of running in circles, Joshua and Liam prefer a more cooperative approach. They start at the end of the hallway (which to me is rather short, but to them it's the Autobahn), run and then hurl themselves onto our big chair. Then they burrow into the cushions, leap off and go back to start at the end of the hallway again. This usually can continue for awhile until someone gets squished or trampled or pushed over during the race (because Liam doesn't already have enough of an advantage in height, he sometimes needs to get Joshua out of the way).
     Joshua and Liam love to dress alike. They particularly like to wear their superhero costumes and they don't at all mind when I dress them up as "twins" with the same shirts. If Liam has his umbrella, Joshy wants his umbrella (and it better match). If Liam is wearing his Crocs, then Joshua wants his Crocs. If Liam is in the pool, Josh wants to be in the pool. Joshua even likes to hang out with Liam in the bathroom. Liam may even be his favorite person, especially since Liam doesn't change his diapers and Joshua does hate to have his diapers changed.
     Hmmm... maybe this whole copy-cat thing could work to my advantage. Liam does, after all, have some good habits. Tonight Liam was eating his lettuce so Joshua also ate his lettuce. Joshua hates lettuce. He didn't seem too happy with it, but he ate it anyway. Later in the evening Joshua even watched intently and copied how Liam brushed his teeth. Maybe I could get Liam to teach Joshua how to use the potty, get dressed by himself or at least blow bubbles in the water! Nah, that's not usually how parenting works. You can't always choose which behaviors the little ones pick up on. I might have been the one to teach my brother how to count to 10... but I was probably also the one who taught him how to jump off of swings (face first into the dirt).

Father's Day Gift

2011-06-19T12:09:00.000-07:00

     I would like to think I wouldn't nag my husband on Father's Day. But just in case, the powers that be have made it impossible for me to do so by taking away my voice.  An unexpected Father's Day Gift for my beloved husband, the father of my children. I knew it was about to happen so at 11:15 last night, with my voice starting as a barely audible sleep and tapering off into a faint whisper, I listed as much of his honey-do list as I could muster. It wasn't Father's Day yet so it's okay. And now it hurts to talk so when I asked him on his special day to get Joshua dressed, it physically hurt me to do so and asking him to get me the air pump for the slip and slide was also a strain.
     I don't think I'm too much of a nag but I certainly do ask him to do a lot. On a positive note, it's not as though I'm sitting on the couch while asking him. Even though I'm officially sick (or allergenic?) today I still have made breakfast, emptied and loaded the dishwasher, swept the deck from those pesky helicopter thingies, gone grocery shopping, changed poopy diapers and tended to the children dutifully. And out of all of the grand scheme of things, he does way more than I venture to nag him about. Yesterday with no prompting whatsoever he put the edging on my garden and he mowed the lawn today (yes, on Father's Day but it was totally his own idea).
     No matter how much we each do, no matter how well our team works, there's always just more on the list than either of us could possibly do (and we refuse to hire out). So even though we're doing the laundry, paying bills (usually), mowing the lawn, changing the children, etc... it just still seems like a lot is left undone. Like the paint chipping on our sidewalk and the garage decaying before our very eyes for lack of paint, the awning of the playground ripped and flapping in the breeze waiting for its new roof, the car windshield cracked by a hailstone, the garbage stinking up the kitchen even though guests are arriving and (most emotional for me) my goose (or duck?) still unglued from it's foot with a hole in its belly in the downstairs bathroom. Oh no! I just inadvertently nagged my husband. Even without a voice, my nagging is out of control!
     Hmmm... I think on Monday I'll call the insurance company about that crack in my windshield myself. If I get my voice back.

Why I Think Glue (and dry cleaners) Are Really Super

2011-06-09T19:00:00.000-07:00

Joshua sure does love his plastic farm animals. He likes to group them and have them make noises and walk them in and out of his barn. And I really can't blame him, because I really like my farm animals too.

I have (or had) three of them. A miniature ceramic cow and a sheep. The most recent addition is a larger white duck that sits outside on our sidewalk (whereas the cow & sheep reside on our entertainment center). No one ever comments on my farm animals despite the fact that they are always dressed for the appropriate occasion and, more often then not, coordinating with each other. The cow and sheep are irreplaceable only in that I happened upon both of them for sale at the same bargain store, different times, for the cost of $1. If they had a pig, I would have bought that one too. They're irreplaceable though because I just can't imagine my luck striking once again to find the same ceramic box with a (different) animal at the bargain discount store. The goose was more premeditated. It started on a trip to Florida where my mother and I just couldn't get over the fact that a lady had a goose dressed in a raincoat sitting on her front lawn. We drove by another day later in our trip and the goose was wearing a different outfit. Years later, I just had to have that goose (or duck, I'm not picky). Luckily my mom picked up on the hints and found one for me. I knew it could be trouble. Afterall, it's ceramic and it sits on a cement walkway..

Why do I like my farm animals so much? Maybe it's because I don't have a girl to dress up. Or maybe it's because my farm animals don't fight back or voice opinions ("No Melmo shirt!"). Maybe it's because I'm an Elementary School teacher so I like cute things like dressed up farm animals. Whatever, just don't begrudge me this little joy that I get seasonally as I change their clothes from St. Patrick's Day frock to Easter Bunny suit. I even dress them up for Halloween (the cow is usually a ballerina, the sheep is usually at a luau despite the cool temperatures and the goose dresses as a witch).

     I let Joshua and Liam help me dress up the animals, which may be my downfall. Afterall, they are used to plastic farm animals and ceramic ones are a bit more delicate. So tonight as Liam was dressing the duck in his Uncle Sam Hat ("Mommy, why do all of the duck's hats have beards?"), I was a little concerned but too careless to think much of anything. But when Liam said uh-oh on his way out the door, I knew it would be trouble. Of course, the sadness I felt didn't quite compare to the look of panic in poor Bill's eyes when he went to investigate. See, Bill probably hates that duck. I can't imagine a man would have any interest in having a duck on his sidewalk dressed for the seasons. I'm pretty sure he thinks it's lame. Either that or he doesn't even notice it's there. But Bill does know that I am emotional and that I cling to silly little things. He remembers how sad I was when I put my new wooden cutting board into the dishwasher and part of it broke off. And so it was. The duck was separated from his pedestal and one of his legs came off. Perhaps most problematic is that he has a hole in his belly. We salvaged the pieces but the outlook looks grim.
     And this is when I get really sad, and pitiful and say, "I can't have anything nice." I lost my super-cool Camelback water bottle at a meeting the other day. The boys experimented with my Victoria's Secret perfume (high class, I know). A waitress spilled coffee on the new dress I had treated myself to at Bill's work Christmas party,   My yoga balls have both been deflated (one seriously punctured). I left the new tea kettle boiling so long it ran out of water and started to burn off its own coating. I left my Havarti cheese in my lunch box overnight so I had to throw the rest away. Pity me.
     But then I remember... the dry cleaner got that coffee stain out of my dress. Bill glued the cutting board back together and (assuming I don't put it in the dishwasher again) all is well. It takes me years to go through a bottle of perfume so there's still plenty left in the bottle. And that ceramic cow? It's leg has been fractured twice. And both times I've fixed it with superglue. Isn't that what superglue is for? Fixing up our stuff so we can continue on having nice, if not flawed, things for ourselves.

A Pardon for Spiders

2011-05-29T18:11:00.000-07:00

     I have an uncanny knack for finding spiders but not for killing them. No, I have Bill do my dirty work with the closest paper towel, tissue or napkin. But lately I have a much more humane option, It's Liam rescuing the spiders and bringing them outside.
     Once in middle school I screamed so loudly from the downstairs bathroom that my father literally lept down a flight of stairs to rescue me from what he thought surely must be an intruder. Instead it was a daddy long legs on the wall that was respecting my space. My brother won't let me forget about the time we were rock scrambling- we were climbing a wooden ladder and I had stopped to carve Bill + Jess into a rung with a Swiss Army Knife. A slug crawled onto my finger and apparently I waved the knife in the air and almost stabbed my brother whose leg was just above mine. I don't do well with insects and crawly creatures.
     I recognize that I have an inappropriate fear of creatures that can do me no real harm. I was hoping not to pass this on to my children. I didn't know how I could possibly not pass on my tendency to shriek when approached by 8 legs. Don't children copy their parents? But somehow Liam just isn't afraid of creepy crawlies. He picks them up and even lets them crawl on him. Now this freaks me out and inside I'm getting all heeby jeeby, but instead of outwardly freaking out I just help him to the door to let out his new friend.
     This week working on the garden, Liam did something I could never bring myself to do. He picked up not just one worm here and there but a handful. He giggled with his friend as he collected more and more worms. We found a nest of ant eggs and the Josh and Liam watched them intently as they scampered around, trying to dig deeper away from us humans (it's a good thing too because we were about to till the soil). They looked through a toy magnifying glass to see them up closer.
     My kids hear me screaming and they see Bill on a bug killing spree, but somehow they're not afraid of bugs. And somehow they don't think to kill them either. Poor Liam after a weekend in the woods is covered with bug bites because he didn't know to slap a bug off his skin (he was gently shooing them away instead). I'm quite happy to know that I didn't pass on this fear to Liam and I'm hoping his interest in the creepy crawlies will encourage Joshua not to be afraid either.
     Last year we witnessed something amazing. A spider had laid hundreds of tiny eggs on our playground and we got to see the newborn spiders hatching and setting out into the world. We sat and watched as some ran and others let themselves be blown away.  Liam helped along others on leaves and sticks. We talked about how some would make it and some would not. Just for that moment we ignored the fact that if any of them ended up in the house I would probably have it executed by Bill... unless that spider was lucky enough to be found by Liam and brought safely outside in his protective hands.

Functional Fixedness

2011-05-21T17:57:00.000-07:00

     You may only know that term if you took a child psych class in college and actually studied for the final. I think of it though everytime I see Liam or Joshua turn our couch cushions into an obstacle course. See, objects are not always exactly how they appear to us boring in-the-box-thinking adults. There once was a time when forks could be hairbrushes (I give Ariel the credit for that one) and when pots and pans were our favorite drums.
     Now how boring am I? While Liam and Joshua turn toilet paper rolls into telescopes, I'm planning on putting their Easter baskets into the sandbox to use as... buckets! Wow, that's a big jump. I don't think I'm entirely bound by functional fixedness.  For example, I turned my nursing cape into a Superman Cape for Liam's Superhero birthday! But I'm not nearly as creative (anymore) as my boys. They specialize in misuse of objects. Take those magnetic fishing poles (used for puzzles and such). They're no fun at all if you're not holding onto the stick and swinging the string attached to a magnet around in a circle precariously close to your baby brother.
     Liam and Joshua can turn just about anything into a toy. They spent hours running amok in the house with my scarf. They both hold onto it and run in tandem back and forth up and down our hallway. This was fun enough, but then I showed Liam that you can actually get inside of the scarf (hard to explain, it's actually like a tube scarf, if that makes any sense at all). He had fun pretending to be a bear but then realized he could stuff the scarf with other valuables... like pillows. Now my scarf will never be the same; and there are black fluffies all over the carpet upstairs as evidence. Yesterday I was mildly amused when Joshua showed me his new "hat". It was the top of my perfume bottle. I smiled sweetly at him and told him to put it away. Five minutes later I happened upon Liam in the bathroom... spraying my perfume into a plastic cup and mixing it with bubbles. It seems my perfume makes an excellent science experiment. Speaking of science experiments, you know what else is fun to test out? How high cotton can fly when you put it up against a fan. And where better to get cotton than Mommy's couch pillows?
     So what is functional fixedness? It's the lack of an ability to see things not just for what they are, but for what they can be. It's in-the-box thinking that binds you to reality. Functional fixedness is something that children simply have never heard of.  And if all was right with the world, perhaps they would never develop this debilitating condition. Not having functional fixedness is what makes children so innocent. It's the reason why sometimes the box can be just as fun as the toy and other times why they get into so much trouble.

No Love For Mama

2011-05-14T11:46:00.000-07:00

     Last night Joshua told me that he didn't love me. To be fair, I picked the fight. I knew he would say he didn't love me. So when I asked, "Do you love your Mama?" I was quite sure he would say "No." and when I asked "Who do you love?" I also knew what his answer would be... "Daddy".
     Yet at 5:47 AM it was my name I heard on the baby monitor. Now if you don't love someone, why on Earth would you call for them at 5:47 AM?
     Being woken up at 5:47 on a Saturday just isn't right, but there is a saving grace to the whole thing... cartoons. So I brought Joshua into our room to watch cartoons. Meanwhile, the object of his affections (Daddy) was asleep downstairs. The cartoons were on, Joshua was awake and I attempted to go back to bed. But then the remote fell behind the mattress so I had to get it. I fell back asleep within a few minutes but then woke again by Joshua's version of cuddling (taking his 10 pound head and squishing it into my cheekbone). He also stole my pillows and forced me over to the other side of the bed.
     We moved to the living room. I thought, there's a couch there so there won't be room for Joshua to smoosh me. I turned on the cartoons. Now here's how I know I was still asleep... I also gave him some markers and a coloring book. They were washable but still, what was I thinking? The next thing I remember, something/someone was drawing on my arm. I woke up briefly to wrestle the marker out of Joshua's hand, stopping to notice the lovely pattern he had drawn on his rocket ship shirt. Ooops.
     By about 7:30 Liam was also awake but I still wasn't planning on officially facing the day yet. I realize that 7:30 is a perfectly acceptable time for a parent to be woken up- actually it's sleeping in most days- but today I just wasn't ready yet. I did have to change a diaper though. After a morning of being asked for by name, "cuddled" with and after allowing coloring before 8 am you would think that Joshua would have found it in himself to profess his love for me... or that I would not be stupid enough to ask again. But I did (as I was changing his poopy diaper). And the answer was still "No."
     I fell back asleep on the couch until about 8 AM when Joshua and Liam started to ask about their father. They found him downstairs. Then Liam came upstairs and told me he wanted to do a Mother's Day Project. Oh, how cute! He wanted to paint. And this is how I know I was still asleep... "Get a towel." was my only response. In my sleepy haze, I thought, "Well, he's wearing PJ's so it's okay if there's a stain and all of our paint is washable and as long as he cleans up." Ridiculous assumptions on my part. Then I added in a sleepy voice "Liam, go paint outside."
     Liam walked by me and luckily I opened my eye just a tinge (even though he told me not to because it was a Mother's Day surprise.. even though it's a week after Mother's Day) to see him with a craft box- a tile painting kit. There was no way those paints were washable. That's when I officially decided it was time to face the day. Not after being drawn on or sat on or having my pillows usurped or after an overdose of Thomas the Train (seriously, Sir Topham Hat has gained some weight) or even after a superbly stinky diaper. No, it was the non washable paint. Every mother's dreaded fear. By the time I caught up and got outside, Liam had started to paint his foot. I told him that was a bad idea with this project (with non washable paint). Somehow I persuaded Joshua to use washable watercolors.
     Look, it's really no big deal that Joshua says he doesn't love me. I know he does but he just shows it in different ways. Like calling my name when he needs something- no matter what time it is.

I Am So Un-Cool

2011-05-07T14:22:00.000-07:00

     Apparently parenting has "lost its cool". Luckily, I was never cool in the first place. But as if cutting my own bangs, braces and an inability to run without kicking my heels out wasn't enough... now I'm a parent so doubly uncool. Damn it.
     Apparently there's a whole contingent of married couples that vehemently oppose child-rearing and one of them wrote an article for Details magazine in April (I just read the article this week, which fully demonstrates how uncool I am to be reading an article from last month when we will probably soon be receiving the June issue. On a side note, we only get Details magazine because it's free with Bill's frequent flier miles). The article is "The No-Baby Boom by Brian Frazer. This article provides anecdote after anecdote of why these people don't want children. They see their broke friends with kids, observe the chauffeured mini-vans pulling up to soccer fields, witness the competition over day care slots and judge their neighbors as they yell at their kids. Wow. Does that ever sound crummy!
     Now I know happy couples without kids. I've met them and I've envied them, don't get me wrong. But I've never wanted to get into a contest with them over who is happier in their marriage... or their life. Lord knows, maybe they've even envied me! Truly, I've always known I wanted to have children. When I was a child while other little girls dreamed of their wedding day, I visualized myself in my mid-30s with kids and a husband washing off our RV in the driveway. This was my vision so really there's no question over whether or not I should have had kids. And for the record, I don't think I pushed Bill into it either considering that as a pre-teen he voluntarily coached Little League (the guy was really meant to coach Little League and people do tend to judge men without their own kids who coach Little League). Having kids was inevitable but that didn't mean that it's been easy. I am broke. I have been known to yell at my kids within earshot of the neighbors. I have reserved spots at day cares almost a year in advance. We do chauffeur our kids to bowling, music class, swimming and baseball (not to soccer, apparently boys in this family aren't allowed to play soccer... which means that as soon as Liam finds out this rule, he will insist on playing soccer). It's not just these things, I'm utterly exhausted- emotionally and physically- a lot of the time. I am so drained I sometimes feel like a shell of my normal self. I feel my eyes glaze over in the grocery store and end up just buying Ramen noodles instead of Barilla PLUS (because the kids have decided they'd rather have "crazy noodles" than noodles fortified with protein). I haven't been to a real concert since I was early on in my pregnancy with Liam (Allman Brothers). Oh pity me, my life is a mess of stress and frustration and deprivation. But I don't regret it at all.
     Here's the part where I justify all of that mess, stress, frustration and deprivation. What those no-baby boomers are missing is: the feeling of utter one-ness with an infant you have created, the conversation of someone without boundaries, the joy of watching someone else experience childhood for the first and only time, the wisdom of learning that you shall not judge others as bad parents because it's likely someone someday soon will see you dragging your child through Target and leaving a trail of Cheerios all the way from the toy section to the check-out line (of course you don't skip the check-out line, you just got to Target, you're not going to leave empty handed). What I wouldn't want to miss is: Christmas morning through the eyes of my kids or their expressions watching a lame magic show; sharing a movie we used to love as children (Ghostbusters) and having them love it more than we even did; seeing my husband as a father, my parents and his parents as grandparents, siblings and special friends as loving aunts and uncles. What people without children may not realize is that you can watch someone else's child for a few days and get some loving. It will even quite possibly be very special because you're special to them and more fun their parents. But there is a special bond that children have with their parents. It's the same bond that permits them to be utter nightmares once the front door is closed, but it's a bond nonetheless that makes them cuddle up close for storytime that same night and ask for you by name first thing in the morning.
     Here's the thing. Many of the people who marry and don't have kids- including the author- were either indecisive about having kids or didn't want them at all. They didn't want kids because they didn't want to be broke, didn't want to hear themselves yelling at their kids, didn't want to give up having fun, didn't want to chauffeur their kids to sports, didn't want to spend their time looking for daycare. Blech. I think basing your decision on child-rearing on those things would turn just about anyone off! Base your decision on those good things, I think. But in the end, if you still don't know about having kids and if you still really don't want them... don't bother. See, in the end we're both being selfish- you for wanting to maintain your good life without sacrificing for your offspring and me for wanting to tag along with someone else's childhood. Just try not to give me a nasty look if I push my bulky stroller over your blanket at that free outdoor concert or if my kid throws a jelly packet onto your table at breakfast (and I'll try not to judge you as you jet off to Atlantic City for the weekend in a limo).

Nightmare Scenario

2011-05-02T18:59:00.000-07:00

     When I was growing up, my worst fear was knives. Something about the thought of knives just made my skin crawl.  When I was about 6 years old, my mom started referring to knives as "sharps". I had a baby brother and she wanted him to stay away from those dangerous utensils. So why not call it like it is... sharp. Don't touch it. She may have been onto something.
     These days I seem to be over my knife phobia. Perhaps it's because I've watched so many CSI, NCIS and ER episodes.  Nowadays it's cars that are my worst nightmare. I'm even a bit reluctant to admit it on "paper" but it's true. I have the worst nightmares about cars and my kids. Knives were close and personal- maybe that's why they haunted me. But cars are big and powerful and kids are so small and vulnerable. So as you can imagine, I've spent quite a bit of time explaining to Liam & Josh to stay clear of cars with their red reverse lights on. I try to rationalize with Joshua as he squirms away why he needs to keep holding my hand in a parking lot. I've been so proud of Liam each time he calls out "car" on a bike ride... even when he pulls over for cars that are parked. He's the only kid on the block... maybe the world... who actually looks both ways before chasing his ball into the street. Yet just this Thursday afternoon there Liam was on his bike aimlessly drifting into the oncoming traffic of a main road.
     It was a sunny afternoon and we were all out for a walk. Liam was riding his new bike which, we soon discovered, lets him ride much faster than he used to. So he was up ahead while I rolled Josh in the stroller with Bill and my dad poking along behind. We kept telling Liam to stop. Stop at the mailbox, stop at the sign,... and each time he'd go a little bit further than he was told. Several times I found myself shouting stop and running after him. One time though, he just didn't stop...even when the sidewalk ended, Liam just kept going- actually veering left into the main road.  Up ahead there were cars coming into his lane. My dad quickly ran into the road and helped him safely across. Looking back, all I remember is freezing but Bill tells me that he saw me running towards Liam. All was well... except for my imagination. What if the cars were a little bit closer? What if a car was in the other lane, coming from behind us?
     I told Liam it's better to fall of a bike onto a sidewalk or grass than ever ride into the road. He said he couldn't stop and didn't want to fall. How do you explain the danger of cars to kids? Liam thinks he's Superman. Once he actually told me he would just push a car away.
     Whatever I told him, clearly wasn't enough. The next day he was standing next to his father as a car in a parking lot came around a corner quickly. I clearly said, "Stay where you are Liam" but somehow Liam decided to run across to me anyway. In his defence, he said he was running because he saw the car was coming, but that rationality just doesn't work when it comes to cars. So once again my imagination got away from me. Maybe we should follow my mom's lead. Like calling knives "sharps"... we could call cars "heavies" or "hurts". Hmmm.... I don't think that's going to work. Maybe instead I should just teach Liam how to fall off of his bike into the grass.

Care to Cuddle?

2011-04-23T12:50:00.000-07:00

     Someone forgot to teach Joshua how to cuddle. Don't get me wrong, he loves to give hugs and he likes to be held. But cuddling is something he just doesn't do. Liam will melt into you while watching TV. He's like a stringbean growing up a fence, wrapping his skinny arms and legs around yours. Not so much for Joshua. Instead of nuzzling his cheek against ours, he prefers to headbutt our chins. Really, he pushes his skull up into my chin as I read him a story, so much that it is sometimes hard to open my mouth to read the story.
     Rocking Joshua isn't so cuddly either. He insists on facing out, perhaps because it gives him better leverage as he pushes up that head of his. I remember Liam used to lie on my chest, with his head on my shoulder. True, I may be idealizing Liam's cuddling and surely I'm forgetting that I used to spend hours in his room rocking and rocking and rocking him just to get him to sleep (that was back when I had time to rock a baby to sleep). Thinking back, Liam has always been more of a cuddler. So many mornings we woke up with him sleeping between us. We just fell asleep that way after the 2 am feeding. Again, I'm sure to be idealizing and forgetting the fact that he was kicking us and stealing our pillows. But Joshua just never caught on to sleeping in the bed- whether we wanted him to or not. On nights that Joshua ended up falling asleep in our bed, we would wake up to find him perpendicular to us- with his toes sticking into Bill's nose and that head pushing into my back.
     Joshua always has plenty of excuses why not to cuddle. He wants that book read, to see the ducks at the park and to keep an eye out for an incoming brother. He can't be bothered to sit down when there's jumping to do back and forth across the room or running from one end of the hallway to the other. His hands are too full with cars or plastic farm animals (or this time of year, Easter eggs). Or, his favorite excuse, he would much rather run away from you than cuddle.
     No, Joshua doesn't cuddle... but he does give hugs. He will hug friends, family and sometimes even strangers and he always does so with a big smile. You get that smile right before he dives in for his hug. It's like his way of saying, "No, I won't cuddle with you but for this one short minute you can keep me all to yourself.... until I squirm away."

The Real Reason I Want You To Clean Your Room (besides "Because I said so")

2011-04-19T11:52:00.000-07:00

"My mom cleans my room, I just sleep and wake up and play videogames."
     Really? Yes, really. This is an actual quote from a student and truly it baffles my mind. Within a couple days of hearing this in my classroom, I was down in Liam's room explaining to him why (1) He needed to clean his room and (2) He would not get paid for cleaning his own room. It wasn't easy but eventually- after far more playing than actual cleaning- the job was done and the floor of the room was spotless. I say the floor because this left the tops of the dresser, bookshelf and bed strewn with odds and ends. But still, it wasn't bad and at least I hadn't been cleaning it while he lived up a leisurely life in front of the Wii.
     How many homes across America are messy until Mom (or Dad) intervenes? Countless. How many are messy until Mom (or Dad) do the cleaning? Hopefully a bit fewer. Because here's the thing... I clean the common areas for my own personal reasons. I don't like stepping on Legos, I'm afraid someone will just stop by, I want to secretly put together Liam's Transformer just because it's fun, etc... Sometimes (now this isn't often) I get into a zen-like state of cleaning where I need that quick satisfaction of turning a room that looks like a gigantic toy box into a living room again. I also tend to clean on my own because if it's really messy it makes me go batty and not be able to concentrate. But whatever, none of these reasons would justify me cleaning up Liam's room. Out of all the rooms in the house, it's the least significant to me (cleanliness wise). At the same time, it's the most significant to Liam... and therefore the one he has vested interest in keeping neater. It's also the one he is most responsible for. I'm pretty sure Daddy and I didn't dump all the books off of the bookshelf and I know Joshua didn't scatter stuffed animals around the room. So I do think it's important for Liam to keep his own room in order... on his own and not for money. Now for money, there are a variety of chores which Liam has already begun to master at the age of 5 and Josh has started to try at the age of 2 that I'm pretty sure that kid in my class has never heard of before... like wiping off the table, helping to cook a cake and raking up leaves.
     Hopefully this means that neither of my boys will not end up in my basement at the age of 25 asking me where his clean underwear is. Now here's my biggest wish of all: hopefully I won't end up having to apologize to either of their future wives for sending out a son into the world who has never folded up his own laundry, put away the silverware or vacuumed on his own.

House of My Dreams

2011-04-08T18:13:00.000-07:00

     For more than 7 years (are we now up to 8?), Bill and I have lived in our home here on this dead end, quiet street. Not far away on one side is a busy urban street with a convenience store (that sells ice cream). If we turn in the other direction and go equal distance, there are horse farms and fields. When we bought our house I didn't really think it matched my ideal home. The rooms are square and I prefer oddly shaped rooms (I grew up in a solar home). There aren't enough closets and the rooms are too small.  Our "master" bedroom is just big enough for two dressers and our bed. When you pull out the iron you are literally out of room. But we've been here for 7 years and we've made it our own. Bill fixed up our deck, we worked on curb appeal and spent too much on furniture.
     A couple of years ago I was describing my dream home to the students in my classroom. it would be on a dead end street, a yard with a playground and it should have trees behind the house and maybe a creek. I realized without noticing it at first that I was describing our home that we live in now. While I've always assumed we would move on, I started to see a future right here where I am today.
     Where will we be in 5 years? Or 10? The other night I imagined myself driving down our short street looking at this home. Would we be turning into the driveway or just driving by to see the old place? If just driving by, what memories would come flooding back at me? Maybe lying on the grass watching the boys play football or freaking out when Bill helped Liam sit on the tree branch (without holding on)... Maybe I'd see those endless hours of pushing Joshua's cozy coupe back and forth, back and forth up and down the driveway. What would the older me think of this life I'm living now? I may judge myself for not playing outside more often or for being stressed out too often. I may be envious that my boys are begging for me to play with them and are eager to give hugs.
     Where will my car go after it drives by this old house? Of course, it would be wonderful to think that I would be driving home to that house with big bedrooms, vaulted ceilings and plenty of closet space. But what if it's just the opposite? What if these are the glory days and this is my house to lose? For so many people in this economy, this is sadly true...
     Or maybe in 5 years I will be pulling right in to the same spot, just trying to squish bigger people into the same cozy house and car. It's entirely possible and it really doesn't sound so bad at all.

Branded (A B to Z Guide)

2011-04-02T12:50:00.000-07:00

Do all these new toys and brands and boys have you wandering the aisles of Toys R Us looking all dismayed and flabberghasted? Fear not, despite the peculiar names, I think I've got these toys and gadgets figured out. And if I can't figure it out, I have willing focus groups who can help you & I make sense of this all! I've got an Ato Z Guide (starting with B) here for you!

Bakugan- I first heard of Bakugan from my nephew and it took about a year for Liam to actually catch on to the phenomenon. Up until a recent Family Night, Liam had no idea what a Bakugan was and I had only a vague notion. Now we're the proud owner of three Bakugans. Bakugans are these little creatures that can be smooshed/transformed into a little ball. I didn't know how to get them back into the creature mode so we tried throwing them against a wall, squeezing them and tickling them. I decided to enlist the help of my expert focus group so I brought the Bakugans into school. The 4th Grade boys told me all sorts of things about the Bakugans. This is what I heard: Blah blah blah... they open up if you put them onto the magnetized card... their names are blah blah blah... and they're all good guys. Sorry Liam, you have 3 good guys and no bad guys. Apparently one of the Bakugans was so cool that all of the boys in my classroom gathered around my reading table with "Ooohs" and "Aws". They were looking at the Ziperator which inspired one of them to exclaim "Wow! It's like a Bakugan and a Bey Blade together!" What's a Bey Blade? Funny you should ask.
Reminds you of your childhood: Because you used to bounce rubber balls and you used to like little action figures so maybe you might have thought wouldn't it be fun to have both in the same toy? Meanwhile the cards remind you of Dungeons & Dragons, or Magic the Gathering or Pokemon depending on how young you are and how many friends you had in high school.

Beyblades- They spin like a top only faster and they can compete in the Bey Blade arena by spinning into one another. The lengthier title is "Metal Fusion Battle Tops". We don't have any of these yet but I really don't think we need them because we already have the Bakugan Spinmaster Ziperator thingy (see Bakugan).
Reminds you of your childhood: Because you used to spin quarters which cost about $12.75 less than a Beyblade does.

Dragonball Z- I think I missed this one. I'm hoping I missed this one for good and that it's no longer popular now that my kids are older because my brain really can't hang onto all of these things.

Hot Wheels- Nowadays it's not enough to just carry around your Hot Wheels car, you also need the packed up track too. So there are pirate ships, fire stations, airports and Shark Attack tracks that come in little brief cases that can be opened up to reveal several different tracks, elevators & jumps. I think these are super cool. Hot Wheels also has stunt tracks that can make a clean room look messy within minutes. These are also super cool as long as the little rubber bands don't snap (seriously, where could I find little rubber bands like that, especially since I don't wear braces anymore?).
Reminds you of your childhood: Because you used to drive your Hotwheels on the sidewalk or down your stair railings.

Legos- It's no longer sufficient to build a house or a car with your Legos. Now you need to build fortresses that would cost $99.99 (if your parents could afford that much). You don't need much imagination to build your new toy, just fork over the big bucks and start... following directions? No really, you probably will want to get your parents to help you; I mean do all of the work. There are age ranges but kids don't really want to hear much about the age range. When they have a choice between a school bus for their age group or a pirate ship for double their age, they will probably insist on the latter. Not to mention the fact that Lego has completely sold out. You can get Star Wars Legos, Toy Story Legos and Cars Legos (Duplos- that's for the youngest set). They also have their own battle warrior characters with the Ninjago line of Legos. These, like Bakugans, come with cards and many teeny tiny weapons. Of course, using Ninjago Legos can sometimes also mean building things with Legos, but not usually. Another Lego line involves using Legos to build your favorite board games like Trouble R2-D2 and U-Build Mouse Trap! Really, these Lego people are ingenious, making you buy a whole new set of board games just so you can have the fun of building them. Here's what I'm wondering. When your kid smashes all of these Lego creations you've built (with them watching) so that all you are left with is a pile of rubble and you can't remember where you put your assembly directions, can you just dump the pieces into a bin and tell the child to use his imagination to build a robot?
Reminds you of your childhood: Because you used to build things with Legos and spread them on the shag carpet so that after you "cleaned up" your parents would inevitably step on those tiny little pieces with their barefeet.

Mighty Beanz- Don't fall for it! It's just a plastic bean with a piece of metal inside that weights it to always point upwards. They have Star Wars Mighty Beanz and Marvel Super Hero Mighty Beanz. You can get a Mighty Beanz car (to drive on the Slam-n-Smash Race Track) or you can store them safely in a collector tin. Fortunately they only cost about $1.99 so if you fall for it, you will recover quickly.
Reminds you of your childhood: Because you played with your left over plastic Easter eggs and filled them up with all sorts of silly things, maybe spun them around a little bit and drew silly smiley faces on them with a marker.

Squinkies- Don't fall for this either! It's just a silly little rubber figure that comes in a bubble. It doesn't do anything at all. You can maybe get a ring so it will sit on your finger... or you could get a really skinny pencil to put it on top of but don't try to use it as an eraser because you will be disappointed.
Reminds you of your childhood: Because once you were actually successful in getting your mom to give you a quarter to get something out of the gumball machine and all you got was a stupid rubber puppy inside of a plastic bubble.

Transformers- These are a step up from the Transformers that I remember my brother playing with. They have different levels of Transformers but all have a funny way of having their legs fall off. Also, they attract an age group that is far lower than the ability it takes to work on most Transformers. Take Liam for example. Out of a scale of 1-5, Liam is probably a 2 but try telling him that he can't get Bumble Bee because he's a level 4!
Reminds you of your childhood: Because you had Transformers too!

Zhu Zhus- Apparently the country has come down with a severe case of allergies because no one wants real hamsters anymore, they just want pretend ones. My aunt has been the happy owner of guinea pigs for years but now that she's a retired teacher she's opted for a Zhu Zhu pet instead. We have three of them and they like to buzz around the kitchen floor darted around our feet while we cook dinner. They're great for us because Bill really is allergic to rodents (poor guy broke out when I brought an Egyptian Spiney Mouse home)! But what is everyone else's excuse? What I really don't understand about these Zhu Zhus is their roller coasters and pizza shops. You can buy these colored tubes for your Zhu Zhus to race around in. And apparently they can stop for a pizza too. Of course no boy would want to have their Zhu Zhu in a roller coaster so for boys there are King Zhu products which consist of armour loosely fitted around the Zhu Zhu pet. Apparently the cute hamsters are supposed to collide with one another (like a Beyblade! I'm catching on here; boys like to do battle)! King Zhu Zhu Zhu's come in electrifying boyish colors like green and black!
Reminds you of your childhood: Because your parents probably let you get a hamster even though they knew you wouldn't take care of it or because they caught a mouse in the kitchen and let you keep it as a pet for a few days in a shoebox or because you once saw your cat eating a mouse on your front porch.

Have you noticed a pattern here? Whether you're building, transforming, spinning or driving, how many of these toys end up with smashing and crashing?
Reminds me of my childhood: Because after a hard day at day care or school there was nothing quite like chasing my little brother around and around and around (or was he chasing me) until we finally smashed and crashed into each other. Now whatever happened to that type of good old fashioned fun?

War Against Violence

2011-03-20T18:17:00.000-07:00

    No guns, no knives & no boxing. Guns are for killing and I want no part in it. I've taken my pacifist nature for granted all of these years and assumed that my children would just stay away from these things. And my grand scheme could have very well worked... if I had baby girls instead of my two boys.
     For the past five years I've filtered toys and made big decisions. Like: "Is a water gun really a gun?" (no, as long as it's brightly colored) and "Is Mr. Freeze's freeze gun okay?" (only if you're okay with those pointy bat things that Batman has too). I've warned Liam to stay away from the neighbors with their bee bee guns (yet somehow I found one of those yellow bee bees in my front garden after the snow melted). And I've hoped that this is good enough. I thought I was in the clear because Liam never showed an interest in those little green army guys.
     But then Liam became more worldly. He started wanting Transformers and Bakugans and Superheros. They all come with weapons... usually attached. You can still buy friendly Zhu Zhu pets... for your little girl. For boys there are King Zhu's that come with very sharp looking swords. We went from being a house with no guns to house with at least 25 toy guns (water guns not included). I mean, we don't have any toy with the sole purpose of being a gun, but we do have a lot of those little machine guns sticking out of cars, attached to the arm of a Superhero or Supervillian toy from McDonald's Happy Meals and even as parts of Lego sets. Apparently it wasn't enough to play with toys with guns, Liam also needs to act out fighting scenes and talk non-stop about shooting and fire and all sorts of violent topics.
     I'm going to stop you from thinking "Well it's all of that violence he sees on TV." The most violent thing Liam sees on TV is SpongeBob (I"m not a fan but he sneaks it in). He watches mostly PBS. That's not to say he hasn't seen anything violent. There's fighting in so many different movies- from Bolt to The Incredibles. And it may have been a mistake for Bill & I to take Liam out to his first movie, Kung Foo Panda (he was too young to really care much for the attacking tiger guy). But this too is becoming harder and harder to avoid. For example, is Superman too violent? There's nothing quite like an epic battle in a junkyard between a bad Superman and Clark Kent, now is there. But it's a classic so how can we not expose him to Superman.
     Maybe a deeper question here is, what is our culture's attachment to violence? How do we stack up to other cultures? Am I just being a "fuddy duddy" (it wouldn't surprise me, I've been called that before)?
     I would like to think talking about violence, and the mere act of naming it "violent" is helping to defer some of the effects with Liam. How much does a 5 year old really understand the concept of death anyway? When he sees a Transformer smash down a building (okay, somehow he must have snuck in that cartoon) does he realize that smashed buildings really do have people inside? Am I taking the whole thing too seriously when I tell him I've seen smashed buildings and that seeing them fall was one of the saddest days of my life?
     Maybe there are pacifist toys out there, perhaps a chef Transformer who comes with a cooking utensil or an athletic Bakugan with a golf club. Chances are Liam would walk right past them though to buy the Nerf gun. If this is a war against violence, I think I've lost this battle.

I Think This All Started With The Flinstone's Vitamins

2011-03-16T18:55:00.000-07:00

     These days it doesn't matter what you are buying- whether it's a toothbrush, a tricycle (or bicycle), a toddler bed, sippy cups, puzzles or a lunchbox- you will likely take home something with a character on it. Choosing a toothbrush becomes less about soft, medium or hard and more about Cars, Bakugan or Pooh. You want to buy a toddler bed? How about Diego or one of those Disney princesses? And while you're at it, you can get the matching organization bins with Diego or that pretty princess.
     I can classify diapers by company and their matching logos. Huggies opts for Winnie the Pooh whereas Pampers sticks with Sesame Street. How much extra am I paying for the character? I may have to resort to White Clouds! But then there are those Luv's diapers. They used to pay for that cute Blue's Clue's dog on them but now they just go with a generic purple monkey. Josh likes the monkey so we're cool with the change. So if diapers can go logo free, why can't wipes? Why do I need to see the Lion King on the wipes container to make me buy it (okay, it does match with the jungle themed nursery so I guess if I'm given the choice between Lion King and Toy Story, I'll go with Lion King).
     My least favorite logo isn't even a character. It's not a he or a she, an animal or a plant but it's everywhere you look. Before Liam was born I was looking for a gift for my niece for Christmas. She was getting a new play kitchen (Dora, of course) and her mom suggested we buy her some play food to stock the shelves. I looked at K B Toys expecting this to be cinch. I was sure I could find some plastic ears of corn just about anywhere, right? I was wrong. The only play food on the shelf was french fries, hamburgers and fish filets. You've got it, McDonald's. Now I really do like chicken nuggets (even though they stopped serving them with honey) and there's nothing quite like a soggy salty McDonald's fry... but I wasn't about to pay money to stock the Dora kitchen with fast food. I had to go to a specialty toy store to find the nice wooden set from Melissa and Doug (thanks M & D for not selling out... yet). Now after Liam was born my mom and sister and I braved the Black Friday lines at Toys R Us (can't beat the train table and set for $80... mind you, we didn't buy the "Thomas" brand). Waiting just behind us was a dad who braved the lines for one item only. He said his daughter had told him it was the only think she wanted for Christmas that year and he was happy to have found it for $35. It was far worse than the Dora kitchen... it was a play McDonald's restaurant. I didn't ask him if he found the matching food set on the shelf.
     Party supplies have just about gotten out of control too. It seems impossible to have a generic "dinosaur" birthday party. No, you need to have a Dinosaur Train party. A little boy can't have a choo-choo train party, it has to be Thomas. Girls can't have princess parties- it needs to be Jasmine or Ariel. You walk down the kids' aisle of the party store and it's like a Saturday morning cartoon line-up. You're surrounded by Handy Manny, My Little Pony, Batman, Power Rangers, Toy Story and Tinkerbell. Liam wanted to have a Dragon birthday party... make that a "How to Train Your Dragon" birthday party. For Josh's party we chose a fireman theme. Thankfully Fireman Sam (though a popular choice in our house) hasn't really hit the mass market yet (maybe if they made more than 8 episodes) so we were safe. It was just fire hats, firemen & fire trucks. Liam and I went shopping to pick out Joshua's party supplies. Liam reminded me how much Joshua loves Elmo but we had already chosen the fire fighter theme at that point so we were committed. We found him plates, napkins, hats & badges and on the way out we stopped to look at the balloons. "Oooh!" I heard myself say, "Maybe we can find a balloon with Elmo as a firefighter!"

Bath-Time

2011-03-06T18:18:00.000-08:00

     We recovered from the shower curtain incident and in no time the boys were back to baths. Baths with splashing, hiding behind the curtain (which I think in lieu of recent events, is a dangerous idea) and dumping wet toys onto Mommy and/or Daddy.
     You would think it's a novel concept; the procedure of getting soaped up and then washing the soap out in the bath. Because every time we start a new bath, it seems the kids just want to play. Whether they're floating solo or together, the concept of water on the head just always seems to throw the boys into a tizzy. Liam screams out with the drama of a 15 year old girl, "Towel!" Meanwhile Joshua reacts the same way to every cup of water dumped on his head. He widens his eyes to about the size of a quarter and stretches out his whole cute round face.
     For awhile we thought we had conquered the bath-time drama with a pair of swim goggles. Boy did we feel smart. True, Josh wasn't ready like his big brother to wear the goggles, but we knew it was only a matter of time. True, the goggles didn't really end the splashing (in fact, it made splashing even more fun). True, the goggles kept filling up with water and therefore the drama kept creeping back into bath-time. Eventually Liam moved on from the goggles and, despite our urging, consistently opted not to wear his goggles. So that was a short-lived solution.
     Maybe we've shown kids that bath-time is too much fun without really implying that there's a purpose to bath-time. Maybe they just have the wrong impression. And really, who wouldn't think bath-time was so fun with all of those toys piled up next to the tub? We've got boats, duckies, funny looking washcloths, baskets, splash balls, cups, a swimming crab and even a bath time Hot Wheels race car track. There's even more on the market- floating sponge islands, sudsy crayons, musical instruments, and more. So it does kind of come as a surprise when it's time to stop playing and start soaping (and unsoaping). Don't bother to be rational and suggest, "Why not try the soaping routine before the playing?" We actually do this most times because we end up in a hurry at bath-time so there's no time for playtime anyway ("It was bed-time 10 minutes ago but you need a bath because this weekend you painted your hair, sat on a lollipop and dug for worms! Hurry up!").
     A friend of mine had all of her kids showering at a very early age (I'm going to exaggerate and say at 3 years). What a fabulous idea. But I just don't see my 5 year old taking the initiative to soap and unsoap without me coaxing him on (that's a nice way of saying "yelling at him").

Of course, the highlight of every bath time is soap time. No one seems to mind the actual soaping up. There's something fun about becoming more slippery. And soap time is when our favorite bath toy always comes in handy. The mirror.

Don't Try To Clean: You May Get Hurt

2011-03-02T18:42:00.000-08:00

Tonight I started a fight that I didn't stand a chance of winning. I hate to spoil the ending for you but I lost miserably and I can't wait to cash in on my consolation prize. But before I experiment by pairing chocolate milk with buttery, salty, Parmesan cheesy popcorn I'm going to tell you my story.

Round 1: Somehow I managed to volunteer to host Book Club for the month of March which is crazy because March is a very crazy month with birthdays and special events (can you say, Purim Carnivals and St. Patty's Day?). At any rate, I think I thought that I could just have a clean house for the whole month of March, which is entirely unrealistic I now realize. I started preparing for my clean house month by doing a thorough vacuum and a complete freak-out during my "vacation" last week. Today I was home with a sick Liam and it seemed like a good day to get some more of that cleaning done, considering that now it's March. I noticed that the shower curtain had some stains on it. I have no idea how a shower curtain got stained. I'm just going to go with water damage. At any rate, I put it in the wash. This is completely logical because it's made out of cotton.

Round 2: The shower curtain comes out of the drier looking... a little crumpled. No bother, I'm sure it'll all even out.

Round 3: The shower curtain crumpling is seriously more serious than just being crumpled. It's about 1 foot shorter and 1 foot less wide than it had been when stained, hanging up this morning. I panic and shout for Bill, who giggles and goes back to making his sandwich. I'm not sure if he realized that I was actually in crisis here. Maybe I wasn't in crisis only because of the shower curtain. It might have had more to do with vacation planning going awry and watching a sad movie on TV this afternoon. Either way, this was bad.

Round 4: I iron the shower curtain while talking to Bill who apologized for walking out of the room instead of panicking with me. I accepted fault too for my panicking but as I ironed I could tell this could still be an issue so I kind of panicked again. How are we going to have time to go to Bed Bath and Beyond before Book Club?! And I thought to myself, at least I have that 20% off coupon... Bill suggested that he could go to Target without me. I think I might have actually ignored that suggestion.

Round 5: I hung the shower curtain up on the rings and this was when I realized that everyone else who has a bathroom with running water also has those nice wrought iron (or cheap imitation) shower curtain hooks. Some people even have ones that coordinate with their bathroom theme (think yellow submarines or seashells). Somehow I must have overlooked this trend because my shower still has tacky green plastic rings. Ooops?

Round 6: I managed to inch down the shower tension rod so that the curtain would be a little lower and cover the bathtub better. Between the ironing and the lowering of the rod, it wasn't looking so bad and I was thinking that we could put off Bill's trip to Target.

Round 7: I got selfish. Hmmm... that worked really well. Maybe if I just lower the rod a little bit more, the curtain would hang a lower too... And with that, the rod gave out and fell unceremoniously into the bathtub, carrying my slightly-too-small curtain with it. Bummer. And Bill had already left for the evening.

Round 8: I tried to compromise with the shower curtain rod and I looked at the bright side, this gave me a chance to wipe down the surface of the side of the tub a little better. But the slippery surface just made getting the rod back in place more impossible. This wasn't going well.

Round 9: I talked to Bill on the phone and he suggested moving the rod a little closer to the edge of the tub wall. It worked!

Round 10: I got selfish again and tried to lower it. It fell again, which almost made me cry but I was able to get it back in place. I texted Bill back with "I fixed it!" And he responded with an excerpt from the speech our best man gave at our wedding, "So you've got that going for you, which is nice." Real funny.

Round 11: Later in the evening, after I thought the battle was long since over and won, after I was started to look back on the bright side and move on to assorted other challenges like making dinner, cleaning the bathroom sink, etc... I took Josh in for his bathtime. I leaned over to turn on the faucet and (you know what's going to happen next, right?) the shower rod and curtain and those stupid green plastic shower rings all fell down directly onto my head.

Fully admitting my loss, I texted Bill back, "It just fell on my head" and I found myself starting to cry- just starting to, mind you. Deep breath. There was a bright side to all of this, I quickly realized. First of all, Joshua wasn't the one whose head got smooshed. He had been standing right next to me and managed to escape any injury. Second, now I had a great view of Joshua in his bath while I continued to clean the bathroom counter and mirror. I even got him to try something new- dumping water on his own head! And third, I started devising my plan of how I could reward myself for all of my troubles later in the evening. I know some of you really like to top of a tough night with a glass (or bottle) of wine. Many of my friends like to just go to bed early. But me? My consolation prize is a big bowl of popcorn- buttered, salted and covered in Parmesan cheese. Now, I wonder how it will taste with a glass of chocolate milk?

The Elusive Stay-cation

2011-02-23T18:33:00.000-08:00

     I have spent weeks, no months, yearning for a simple stay-cation and it has proven to be as elusive as patches of grass this winter. For me a simple stay-cation would include a few key elements- of course, staying in my home and not spending money but really a stay-cation would also include being kidless for the day. I have changed at least one diaper a day for the past 23.5 months and I would just love a break from those papery poop traps.
     We have two different day care providers- one for Josh and one for Liam. In both cases, going to the sitter is an option over Christmas or February breaks. Now, when Liam was a baby and the sitter suggested that he could come to her house during the week after Christmas, while I was on break, I acted both offended & bewildered at once. "Really? Why would he come to your house if I'm on break?" or my personal favorite thing to say, "I can't be a stay at home mom but at least I can be with my children on breaks!" This is all fine and good until you start to realize that your day off is spent entertaining, feeding and cleaning up after the children. A holiday should be used to catch-up on some important business (like making a phone call during the day- people don't realize how hard it is for a teacher to make a personal call during the day), doing a thorough cleaning (Who am I kidding? When did I ever do that over a break?) or getting a head start on the weeks to come! Instead vacations for me have actually started setting me back a bit. I spend a lot of time over the break just keeping up with the kids rather than catching up!
     Needless to say, I got a bit excited over the thought of having a day to myself to do such selfish items on my "To-Do List" as calling the pediatrician, grading student papers, buying a toaster oven & making a photo book. Yet over Christmas break, despite having two available child care providers, I found myself home with a sick Josh and then a sick husband. I'm not proud to admit that I did actually yell at Bill the morning that we realized they were both sick and would be staying home on my "day off". Since then, I've looked forward to this February break. It was over February break where I devised this great scheme for my stay-cation without children. I was going to paint and get other things done while my children benefited from social interaction!
     The day arrived on Tuesday of this week. Bill took both kids to their respective day cares and I started off making a couple of productive phone calls and then... reading. :) I even did one of those 45 minute yoga routines. Bliss.
     The highlight of the day was supposed to be a lunch date with Bill to a restaurant we had a gift card for. Unfortunately karma was not on our side. When Bill pulled around the corner of the parking lot, someone backed into the car while we were stopped, waiting for another car to pull out. Oddly, she saw this as our fault. Luckily no one was hurt and the damage was minimal. My frustration level was at an all-time high, however. Didn't karma know I needed this day? Didn't the world see fit to give me one day to myself? Here I was without a poopy diaper in sight but yet I was angrier and more stressed than I have been in months. We stood next to the car and surveyed the damage. It had happened so slowly but I remembered the car lifting up slightly and me leaning away from the passenger side when she bumped into us. Then I saw the seat behind me and it was Joshua's car seat. True, the impact was slow; but what if? What if a car hit us harder on the passenger side while Josh was in the car? Or on Liam's side behind the driver?
     This morning (Wednesday), Joshua woke up with a stuffy nose and seeming miserable. I brought him into bed and calmly told Bill that Josh would be staying with me today instead of going to his sitter's house. Bill (remembering my fit I threw over Christmas break when my stay-cation was threatened), asked if I was okay. "Yes," I said, "this is what I do when my babies are sick." And together today, Joshua and I had a great day. We baked banana bread, went for a short walk and had some good talks. I even got a little bit of that wonderful stay-cation when he took his 3 and a half hour nap this afternoon. I think I'll keep him home tomorrow too... just to make sure he's all better.

The Perils of Preschoolers Getting Themselves Dressed

2011-02-16T17:50:00.000-08:00

     We were all cuddled up on the couch this evening reading a bedtime story when I realized that Liam had his pants on backwards.
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do."
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do."
     I ended the argument by unsnapping the snap which was on his butt and unzipping his zipper. It seems I won the argument. But Liam still didn't know how his pants got on backwards or for how long he wore them like that.
     Here are the facts: Liam got himself dressed this morning, Liam pulled down his pants to go to the bathroom at school and Liam did not take off his pants at any time today. Perhaps most incriminating is the fact that just yesterday he came upstairs wearing his jeans backwards. We caught it yesterday but obviously our perceptiveness as parents is beginning to wear down (doesn't bode well for his teen years) so today we let him leave the house wearing his pants backwards.
     Here's the bright side, at least no one noticed. I mean, it's obvious to assume that no one noticed because no one told him to fix his pants, right? Unless they thought it was too funny to fix. It is possible that all the teachers were giggling behind his back- but then again, they're day care teachers and I'm sure backwards pants are a fairly common sight in their profession.
     Currently in Liam's class the fashion crazes include wearing a long sleeve shirt underneath a short sleeve shirt. Matching is entirely optional. Liam recently left the house (with our permission). One mom of a boy in Liam's class calls her son a "budding conservative" because lately he has been insisting on wearing a button up shirt with a tie. This hasn't caught on yet with his peers luckily (because Liam doesn't have a clip on tie). Who knows, maybe Liam has something here. Perhaps backwards pants are just the next fashion craze to hit the preschool scene.

Phases

2011-02-09T18:30:00.000-08:00

    "It's probably just a phase." Well, gee, I hope so! And how many phases have my children been through in their short lives?
     Well, there was the toilet paper phase. Liam was so obsessed with using toilet paper that it became more of an experiment in an absorbency and less about actually cleaning his bottom. I reached the breaking point when one day I entered the bathroom to see a mound of toilet paper rising out of the toilet. I had to clean it up using a grocery bag... but the TP was so soggy that the bag was dripping... what a mess.
     There was the nose-picking phase. Liam so wanted to just pick his nose and we so did not want him to. Of course, most of the time he wanted to pick his nose in public too, which made matters worse. The nose picking incidents called for drastic measures so I promised him candy if he could go sustained periods of time without digging for boogers. Judge me if you would like, but he stopped picking within a few days. On a side note, he never ate his boogers- which is great because that's really gross but it's also a bit concerning because you have to wonder where all of his boogers ended up... ?
     Many of my facebook friends will remember Liam in his baby powder phase. He used to sneak shakes out of the baby powder and I would find them all over the baby's room. Have you ever tried to wipe baby powder off of a bookshelf filled with books? Needless to say, there's still some baby powder in the cracks of the bookshelf and on the wall behind the shelf.
        Joshua has had his share of phases. Recently he has been in a hat phase. At his sitter's he insists on wearing a green safari helmet. At home he wears his red plastic fireman hat. He often insists on bringing it to bed with him. We've actually found that wearing a hat is in his best interest when around his bigger brother. It particularly came in handy when Liam budged him off of his stool while brushing teeth and sharing the sink. Fortunately this hat phase hasn't ended it. It's really too cute to say good bye to anytime soon.
     A less cute phase from Joshy is his baby phase. He's almost two and, up until recently, has insisted on calling himself a baby. If you said, "Big Boy", he would point to himself and say "Baby". He really wasn't having any of this getting older crap. In fact, he has decided that it's best to wake up before 6 am (like an infant) and refuse to eat unless he's being fed by his mommy or daddy. He went on a utensil strike to demonstrate what a baby he is. I see right through his plan though- I packed him a bowl of yogurt to take to the sitter and watched as he pleasantly took out a spoon and neatly fed himself yogurt at her house. Got you, Josh, got you.
     Phases really do keep us on our toes. Which family hasn't endured the "why" phase? Or the phase where the little one just can't sleep if he/she isn't in your bed with you?  And just when you think you can't stand any more of a phase... it continues (not gone so easy)... until one day it just disappears whether you like it or not. The funny thing is that even though many of these phases so permeated our everyday lives, looking back a few months or years later it's so easy to forget them!
     I can't believe it but I almost forgot Liam's scary monkey phase. Oh was he ever scared of that scary monkey. We never could figure out which monkey was the scary monkey, considering that his room had a jungle theme. So we removed all monkeys from the room. Oddly enough, he slept with a rattle snake in his bed but apparently that wasn't as scary as the monkey. Now Joshua loves his jungle-themed monkey room. He can't stop talking about monkeys. He likes to walk around with monkeys hanging over his shoulders with velcro paws. Come to think of it, maybe that's his way of making Liam keep his distance...

Wowing You With Awesomeness

2011-02-05T20:31:00.000-08:00

     There comes a point in every yoga class (usually early on) when I think: "Wow, I am impressive. Look at my form and grace. Appreciate my flexibility and strength." Within 5 minutes of this revelation, I am brought back to reality by (a) failing to balance with one foot 4 inches off the ground (b) struggling to hold my arms straight over my head or (c) trying to touch my toes. This past week we had pilates instead of yoga and I was just thinking how awesome I was doing at the hundreds series. Less than 5 minutes later I had the instructor kneeling next to me saying "We have to do something about your butt flip-flopping all over the place." Gee thanks lady, isn't it enough that I'm here? Couldn't you just go on letting me feel awesome tonight?
     It's the same sensation that occurs to me almost every day before leaving the house, when I think, "What will I do when I arrive so early today?" And then 10 minutes later I'm struggling to get a wiggler into his jacket, mittens & boots and to remember my tea, lunch and work bag. So 20 minutes after I stood there naively thinking I would be early, I find myself stuffing the same wiggling baby (who is now in a winter coat) into his car seat, then I find myself rifling through my purse to find my keys only to remember that they are actually in the jacket pocket that I wore... yesterday.
     There are moments when I am wowed by how awesome a mom I am. We go the grocery store and, because I'm such a terrific mother, I let Liam weigh some bananas and we spend some time talking about measuring weight. We discuss what makes the tomatoes organic and we stop by to visit the lobsters. I think to myself, "If anyone is watching, they will surely be impressed." And then we get to the part of the grocery store that's not as fun. By the tortilla shells someone starts to complain about wanting to get into the cart (or out of it) and whoever is in the cart starts crying and whoever is out of the cart starts pushing each and every box on the shelf at their height level. The grocery store starts to get hot. I start thinking that we have a lot more shopping to do. I can't find Bill (because I forgot onions so he's back there getting them) and I get flustered. Not so awesome anymore. Now I can't even make a decision between whole milk or part skim mozzarella. Suddenly I've got that glazed-over mom look (you know the one I'm talking about).
     In between snow storms we decided we needed to clear our driveway of permafrost. Bill and Liam started. Josh and I had second shift.  I was going to be an awesome mom- able to chip away ice on a driveway while giving her son time to play outdoors! I gave Josh a shovel; because that's what any awesome mom would do to involve their almost-2 year old. He didn't want the shovel. I showed him how to throw snow. He wasn't interested. I continued to scrape and shovel, scrape and shovel, scrape and shovel. Josh stood there. I asked him sweetly if he wanted to go inside but he quickly rejected that idea by turning into jelly when I tried to hold his hand and walk him into the house. I asked him if he wanted to help Mommy but then he started whining. I continued to work, offering suggestions for his amusement but it seemed that nothing was working. Instead of looking like an awesome mom balancing snow scraping and baby playtime, there I was sweaty with an oversized winter coat, scraping at ice while my toddler hugged one of my legs and refused to let go. Eventually I brought him inside against his will but really, I had to think about my image here. I wasn't looking very awesome.
     Time after time, I realize that I am only human and at least I am doing the best that I can. Still, I persist in having those "I'm awesome" moments despite evidence to the contrary. Perhaps I should just enjoy the "I'm awesome" moment... because that's just what it is, a moment.  Like all moments, it will pass; but with any luck another "I'm awesome moment" will present itself soon. Like most awesome moments, it will likely be when no one else is around to hear it or see it except the people who really matter the most afterall.

Goodbye Toothless Grin

2011-01-30T14:33:00.000-08:00

     Why is it that every time a baby gets a runny nose, gets fussy, drools, chews on his toothbrush/a pen/his fingers, or cries we all decide that he must be teething? Possibly because it's true. Josh has been sick many times since September and I can't help but wonder how many of the illness were teething. What's worse, just when you decide that your baby is probably only teething, you find out he has a double ear infection (that happened in August).
     So imagine my happiness when Joshua's mouth filled up with teeth and it seemed there was no room for any more teeth to squeeze in there! Oh, it was exciting. He could chew up carrots significantly more (before spitting them out- we still can't knock him of that habit). He stopped gnawing on his toothbrush and started actually brushing and his perpetually runny nose ceased to be runny!
     Until recently... and that's when the fun started all over again. I first noticed that Joshua was trying to fit his entire hand into his mouth. I thought it was a little disconcerting but no big deal until I then noticed his nose was running. Now he doesn't want to eat anything hot or cold. Not even "go go" (yogurt) or "mo mo" (oatmeal).
     This can only mean one thing... molars. Why does he need these silly molars anyway? Does he really need to go through all of this pain? Poor sweetie, but really I'm running out of ideas for what he might like to eat besides Cheerios and animal crackers! The other night he even turned down... dinosaur chicken nuggets!
     Poor Joshua. I suppose someday you will appreciate having all of your teeth. You have a terrific smile, so I'm sure that will help you get ahead in life. And imagine all the great food you will be able to eat once these pesky teeth come in- from corn on the cob to bbq ribs! Maybe someday soon you'll even have enough teeth to pulverize those carrots enough so that you will actually even swallow them instead of spitting them out onto your shirt.

Alligators, Bats, Corn, Dinosaurs, Egg Salad and Frogs (Revised)

2011-01-24T18:34:00.000-08:00

Revision of earlier post:
     The first question I asked in search of a preschool was do you teach the alphabet? It may surprise you why I asked that question; it was because I wasn't really interested in Liam learning the alphabet... at least not as a formal, academic curriculum.
     A few years ago my sister-in-law asked my advice about how she could teach her youngest daughter to read. I told her to read with her daughter. This turned out to be very convenient because they were already reading quite a lot. By the age of four, my (very adorable) niece had already read the chapter book Charlotte's Web along with countless other picture books (including Wide Mouthed Frog, which I bought for her). As a 7 year old, she still loves to read each and every day. To be fully clear, my sister-in-law did mix a bit of phonics into her daughter's program. I believe in addition to their steady diet of real books, she also did learn quite a bit from Hooked on Phonics and other toys & games. Still though, I think the reading part is the most important and the real reason why my niece loves reading so much.
     Now that Liam is a 4 year old, I am constantly reminded about our alphabet. He loves to read and does so often- at home and at school. But everywhere I go, there's another reminder about the alphabet and it leaves me with the question... why? And why in that order? I'm quite sure that the alphabet is just a string of letters that fit into a song to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" (did anyone else take 32 years of their life to finally notice that connection?).
     We visited Liam's current preschool in the fall and I was very happy to see a bulletin board with X-Rays on the wall, a sensory table that was left open for kids to play in and a huge Lego table. There was a photocopy on one of the tables with the numbers 1-10 written in English, French, Spanish, Hebrew and Punjabi. Not to mention the children's garden outside of the classroom windows, a ginormous playground and certified preschool teachers. We happily started paying (in July... for a preschool class that didn't start until September).
     Did we find the perfect preschool? Was Liam about to embark on a school year of discovery? Yes... but... it only took a couple of weeks of holidays and settling in before the first art projects started to appear in his mailbox- an Apple person, who was soon followed by a Bear with Buttons and, the following week, Caterpillars and Cats and Cars. But what about the X-Ray bulletin board? Well, it turns out that we just happened to visit during the week they learned about X.
    It's been weeks since my realization. We tried to get into the spirit but it's a little hard when you have to bring in a picture of something that starts with the letter K (Liam, you can bring in a picture of a Knight [but that might be too confusing], a King, a Kite or a Key). We embraced the show-and-tell for items that begin with the letter J (Jelly Beans to share!).
     Am I spoiling the fun of all of you preschool mommies out there who are proud of your child's Dogs, Elephants and Fish? I hope not. I really do value the art projects, show and tell (even with specific parameters), story reading, etc...  I just can't help but wonder about our ABC's.
    What if instead of teaching the ABC's in order, we started with the "easy" letters that only make one sound- like B, D, F, H, etc... and then moved on to those multi-sound hellions like C & G only to finish up with the vowels? Or how about if we ditch the ABC's altogether and go more whole language? Or subject-based? So maybe a unit on lizards where they also happen to discuss the fact that lizard starts with L? I was just talking to a friend who said at her daughter's preschool, they based the order of letter learning on shapes of letters. And that's the thing, the more preschools I called last year and the more friends I talk to, the more I realize there's no escaping this alphabet thing (unless maybe you go Montessori... but the visit the Montessori preschool may be fodder for an entirely different blog post someday...).
     I am very happy with our decision to enroll Liam in this preschool. It was the best decision for our family. Liam loves his classroom and has learned so much about social development, appropriate behavior and more.  They read two or more books every single day and I think that is where the real learning is taking place. On the way home from school Friday, Liam even recited all of the months in a row to me (I have barely tried to attempt that one at home) and I know I saw a bar graph on chart paper hiding behind the teachers' desk last week too. So for the time being, I'll help Liam look for his show and tell Lion or a Leopard. This being said; I'm really hoping that, on the second week of September, Liam doesn't come home from Kindergarten with colored in Alligator.

Re: Toys That Break Easily

2011-01-17T14:08:00.000-08:00

     It's official, I would like to add to my list of most annoying toys... Transformers. And here's why: Liam went shopping for his best friend's birthday present and got him a Transformer (if you're reading this Mary Anne, sorry I gave away the surprise). It became immediately clear that Liam wanted a Transformer too so he spent his own money to buy a matching one. In the past 20 hours since its purchase I have transformed it about 4 times, my husband about 6 times, Liam 2 1/2 and my brother who is visiting from out of town can't count how many times he's transformed it (partly because he's obsessed with fiddling with it... even when Liam is not around). We have been asked (or told) to transform it about 58 times.
     Did you know modern Transformers have little hairpin clips that need to be perfectly aligned for clicking back together? And that they have ball bearing joints that easily pop off and need to be snapped back into place?
     Perhaps the Transformer would be less annoying if it didn't also speak. That's not to say that this Transformer has a voice option. No, it only speaks to Liam. It tells Liam that it wants to be transformed. Roughly translated, this means we need to transform it. No matter what we are doing- showering, making dinner, driving, sleeping...
     Depending on how this next 24 hours goes, I may be forced to do something drastic. Like packing the Transformer into my brother's bag for him to take back home when he leaves next week.

Ode to Tiny Screwdrivers

2011-01-12T18:05:00.000-08:00

     There was a time not so long ago when Bill & I moved in with each other and realized we had two of those little tiny screwdriver sets. And we thought that was a little bit silly. Maybe we should keep one in the closet and one near the entertainment center? But what could we possibly do with two of those little screwdriver sets?
     Then we had children. Soon tiny screwdriver sets became necessary quite often. Batteries for toys, bouncy seats, Nerf guns, you name it. While on this topic- you wouldn't believe the amount of batteries we go through in this house. And no matter how many batteries we keep in the house (we buy them in bulk... with coupons), we're always missing the size we need. There's nothing like keeping a kid in suspense on Christmas morning when he wants to use his new remote control car. Sorry kiddo, we need 5 AA's for the remote and 3 C's for the car. We only have 2 of each. You'll have to wait until tomorrow. Bummer.
     Not to mention fixing your glasses (the originally intended purpose for tiny screwdrivers) when your baby snatches your glasses/sunglasses off of your face and contorts them unnaturally.
     This evening I was using the tiny screwdriver for an alternate purpose. Joshua had stuck a Mega Block into a shape box  and it was stuck (or "guck" depending on who you spoke to about the problem). I had already tried to use ice tongs, a butter knife and a potato peeler to get the block out but it just wasn't budging. So I tried to pry it out with a tiny screwdriver. That didn't work either. Then I realized there was a tiny screw in the box so I could just take the box apart and push the block out of the tube it was stuck in. So with little fanfare I did just that. Okay, there was more drama than just that- I lost the screw (found by Liam) and it took more time to actually put it back together than it did to take it apart. But in the end, all was well and the block was retrieved... thanks to our mini screwdriver. Gee, thanks mini screwdriver for saving another one of our toys, we needed that one!
     If you are about to have a baby and you only have one tiny screwdriver set; do yourself a favor. Go and get another set. Actually, get two more sets because you just never know when you are going to need one and you wouldn't want to have to go searching for the original one in a desperate time of need. While you're at the store, you should also buy as many packages of batteries as your cart will hold. You will need them soon enough, I assure you.

Eco-Irony From a Mom's Perspective

2011-01-09T18:09:00.000-08:00

     Let's talk about irony. The irony of being a mom in the 21st Century eco-friendly culture. We have disposable diapers and reusable grocery bags. I looked it up online and, as most people who depend on the Internet for research do, read the first article I came across and decided it was true. It was an article on eHow by Deb Barracato titled Environmental Impact of Disposable Diapers. The article stated that the average child will soil 5,000 diapers before he/she is potty trained. It's illustrated by a picture of a diapered cutey with the caption, "Parents will change up to 10,000 soiled diapers before their child potty trains." Excuse me, I'll take the baby who only soils 5,000 diapers please! Okay, so clearly his diaper argument could go on forever and (someone else) could write their own blog about it, but what I'm getting at is this: Most of us use these disposable diapers and yet we consider ourselves to be eco-friendly when we go to the store with those reusable shopping bags.  Or in my case, hope they remember to give you that 6 cent credit per bag when you reuse the store's own grocery bags from a previous trip. Meanwhile, our kids are pooping and peeing up a storm in these diapers which we are dumping into landfills across the nation.   But this is only the beginning of our ironic quest for eco-friendly options in a world where our neighbors put their Christmas tree out on the curb in a plastic bag (I kid you not, a perfectly good, natural tree... in a garbage bag).
     Each year I revel in the joy that is garage sales (not sure if that worked grammatically). There's a special place in my heart for the bi-annual kids sale that fills up a local sports arena with consignment kids clothes, toys, books and gear. Oh joy is the only mood as I scoop up previously loved Baby GAP clothes ($2-10), Leapster Games (they cost $20 at the store yet at this kids sale, you can get a bag with games and a whole used game system for $12) and Matchbox Pop Up boxes for $3! It's environmentally friendly too; reusing other peoples' kids' stuff. I mean, kids wear and play with things for such a short time, they so rarely get used up, might as well let strangers reuse them for a small fee! This would all be well and good, the quest for used cheap stuff (saving packaging & waste) if it weren't for the fact that it doesn't curtail us buying new stuff very much at all. No, we continue to buy new toys for birthdays and holidays. Toys in packages designed to catch a young-person's eye in a toy aisle. Packages that trap the toys inside for a full 10 minutes after they have been opened by the kid, while the parent feverishly tries to rip off cardboard, unravel plastic coated metal twisties, even sometimes unscrewing from their death-like grasp to.. the box! And after all that wasted packaging a few years later (maybe months) the toy is spent, broken and/or outgrown. Maybe we'll pass it on but often it is just more plastic in a garbage can.
     There's the walking to offer fresh air at a local park. But how do you get there? By car. And how do you get to the ice cream place afterwards? By car.
     ... The purchasing of organic produce, but forgetting that there's pesticides in your wheat so that the bread you just bought might not be in your family's best interest.
     ... The urge to get a shiny new hybrid followed by the reality of getting a larger used sedan because it's cheaper and may have better safety ratings.
     ... And a little known fact as you pack your child's lunch bag with his/her reusable Hello Kitty/Iron Man insulated tote: those plastic yogurt containers you're sending with your kid each day? They're getting thrown out. Probably the juice bottles too. No one is washing them out and recycling them. If your child buys a lunch, it's probably served on a Styrofoam tray.
     We live in constant irony here. Sometimes to me it seems we take a small step forward and a few steps back (I know, I didn't make that up). I want to be better- to use the reusable shopping bags AND the reusable diapers. I'd love to buy a certified used Hybrid. I haven't yet, but I recognize my faults here. While I may not be saving the planet, perhaps I can console myself in knowing that at least I'm not deluding myself to think that being an eco-friendly mom is easy.

In Sickness and In Health (but preferably the health part)

2011-01-02T18:16:00.000-08:00

     I'm happy to say that after a week of being sick, Bill seems to be feeling much better. But it was a rough go while it lasted... for me. Because while my poor sweet hubbie was reduced to a napping mess of blechy I had to hold down the fort- during my vacation.
     It all started Christmas day. The day is usually a blur of excitement and work. I try to focus on the joyousness but we're on such a timed schedule throughout the day that it's a challenge- from opening presents to eating breakfast to putting together gifts followed by making, serving, eating & cleaning up after a big dinner! So when Bill started to wilt at about 4 pm I gave him a pitiful face and said I hoped he felt better. And at 5 he told me he was starting to think he actually caught whatever it was that Joshy was sick from, I started to get a bit more concerned. And at 6 pm when there was a flurry of setting the table, finishing up the dinner and rounding up the family I barked the most sympathetic thing I could come up with... "Power through it!" Because if he had fallen down at that moment, I'm just not sure what I would have done. I might have just given up too, I think. So maybe it wasn't exactly in the spirit of the holiday. The spirit of the holiday would have meant I would tell him to go put his feet up by the fire while the children brought him cups of tea (wait, that's not right either). Seriously though, who else was going to carve the turkey?
     Isn't that what teamwork is? Not deserting your teammate in her holiday time of need? Okay, so many would argue that teamwork is actually being able to compensate for your teammate if he gets very sick just minutes prior to serving a big family its holiday dinner. Whatever.
     During dinner I was quite certain Bill was actually sick because he barely touched his meal. Bill lives for turkey, mashpo and cranberry sauce (only if it's fresh out of the can... with the ridges). I knew it and I felt quite bad about it... so bad that I ate an extra piece of that fine apple hickory smoked turkey he had spent so long grilling all day. Mmmm.... And after the meal I was very supportive of his need to nap. While my mother-in-law cleared the table and father-in-law loaded the first of many loads of dishes I started to clean up the downstairs. I'm glad I did too because I found pepperoni under a couch cushion and what must have been 6 crackers stepped on in the family room.
     I maintained my supportive wife role for quite some time, in the holiday spirit. It was a full 12 hours before I cracked again. While Bill was hanging with sick Josh the next morning, I may have barked, "I JUST NEED YOUR HELP OR I'M GOING TO CRY." And considering the state of my house, this was almost expected of me. I visualized myself doing dishes for my entire Christmas vacation. I think we seriously dirtied every dish in the house- plastic and Pfaltzgraph. So I was a little beside myself.
     And throughout the week it continued with no signs of getting better. Day after day Bill had no appetite and symptoms of ickiness. Let's not forget that Joshua was showing no signs of getting better either. So I was constantly changing heinous diapers. Each one was worse than the one before it. And to make matters worse, with so many bad diapers he had a horrible rash too so he was writhing in pain. Writhing... with a horribly poopy diaper (gloppy actually). As you can imagine, I did quite a bit of laundry during this bout of illness. Of course, there was also all of the cooking. It probably would have been a little ridiculous of me to expect a sick Bill to cook for Liam and I while he ate only toast. So instead I cooked and had to argue with Liam about my meal choices, "You DO like Beefaroni!"
     By Thursday I was really looking forward to a break. Both boys were set up for the day at daycare. My plan was to tackle schoolwork. It didn't go as planned. First of all, I ended up bringing Liam to daycare which took time out of my day-for-myself-schedule. Meanwhile, Bill took Josh to the doctor- after which we decided that it would be best to keep him home. Argh. There went my day to myself, even if it was just a day slated for work.
     So naturally I vented to the only person available. The person who was still pitifully sick himself. The person who I was mad at- but not really mad "at". I threw a temper tantrum like a little baby. And soon after, my actual little baby took his three and a half hour nap; and I worked on my schoolwork.
     Just like that, all of that "good wife capital" I had earned throughout the week caring for a sick husband and son was spent and gone. Gone. Just for the record, I told Bill that if I am ever again in labor and he tells me to "Power through it", I do reserve the right for my future self to kick him out of the room.

Toys That Break Easily

2010-12-27T18:33:00.000-08:00

     Now that everyone has already bought and received their holiday presents, I will offer some completely useless comments about... THE MOST ANNOYING TOYS!
     First, a disclaimer. If you bought us any of these toys, don't fret. You may not have known they were so annoying. We might not have known they were so annoying until it was too late! And on the bright side, many of these most annoying toys are our kids' favorite toys so it's okay... at least you made them happy. On another note, if we have given any of these toys to your kids you may want to take a hint. We want you to be annoyed. Maybe it's fun to have other people suffering with us. On the other hand, maybe we just wanted to make your kids happy... at your expense.
(1) Kitty Keyboard (by Parents)- also known as Meowsic Keyboard (by Battat) or B. Meowsic Keyboard (by Toysmith). I can't believe I'm admitting to this but we actually bought this gift for Liam about 3 years ago for Hannukah with money from my grandma. We thought it was terrific... in the store. It was a keyboard, which would nurture our child's musical ability.   There is a microphone to sing into! We liked the different features for musical beats and especially loved the instrument features. One instrument was the "Meow" feature and this is what really sold us. We thoroughly enjoyed the movie, Super Troopers, so any chance to turn Meow into music instantly appealed to us. At home we were amused by the Meow feature for only so long until we realized that the two song options- one with just plain annoying songs and the other with annoying songs about cats- were, well, annoying. And if you leave the kitty keyboard alone for too long she purrs. Let me tell you little kitty, if we leave you alone, it's because we want to and we certainly don't need a reminder 2 1/2 minutes later that you're still there.
(2) Lite Brite (by Hasbro)- Can't these people spell? Thank goodness we don't own a Lite Brite! I have nostalgia for owning a Lite Brite, I truly do. I remember my time with the Lite Brite fondly. I also don't doubt that my kids would love one- there's a similar exhibit at a local museum that they really like. But really, I could do without those teeny tiny transluscent pieces. So I'm quite thankful that we don't have a Lite Brite but I can empathize with anyone who does because it really seems quite annoying. Better to keep it in the daycare center!
(3) Busy Ball Popper (by Playskool)- Yet another company that can't spell! The Busy Ball Popper plays music as a fan blows into a tube filled with hollow balls that then fly out of the top of the Popper. Kids put the balls back on the track, they go back into the tube and it continues. This is a real favorite in our house... when I haven't hidden it away. No really, everyone loves it babies at 3 months to big kids. I've brought mine to school to demonstrate simple machines and electricity and the 9 & 10 year olds even love it. In fact, the Busy Ball Popper is so popular that it is instantly elevated to annoying status because kids enjoy playing with it over and over and over and over again so that the parents in the room are subjected to the same annoying music over and over again and often the responsibility is on us to (a) find the balls that have scattered around the room and (b) fish out other items that have been stuffed into the air tube (tissues don't come out on their own and neither do Legos). My brother-in-laws' family has owned at least 3 Busy Ball Poppers all of which become "broken" and thrown away. I'm pretty sure "Broken" just means out of batteries but in either case, they're out of the picture... until the next birthday perhaps.
(4) Xylophone sticks (by many companies)- I find xylophones to be nothing but trouble... because of the sticks. The sticks end up hitting anything and anyone except for the actual xylophone. The same goes for drumsticks. Musical talent does need to be fostered... but not on a pinewood table (they dent too easily).
(5) Sound Puzzles (by Melissa and Doug)- We have two sound puzzles. I bought the first one, it's a transportation puzzle. So if you put the car into the car slot it makes a vroom vroom sound. The airplane makes a taking off sound and the motorcycle makes a revving sound. The ambulance makes a siren sound, I should know because whenever I turn out the lights in the room that the puzzle is in, I hear the stupid ambulance. My brother-in-law (opposite side) once asked me what the most annoying toy we owned was. I said, "That stupid Kitty Keyboard!" Bill said, "That annoying transportation puzzle that makes the ambulance sound whenever we turn off the lights!" Meanwhile, Liam was opening up a gift from my sister and my brother-in-law. It was a musical instrument sound puzzle. Now whenever we turn out the lights, we hear an ambulance siren followed by a harmonica.
(6) Laugh and Learn Learning Puppy (by Fisher Price)- That seems redundant and repetitive, doesn't it? Joshua loves his Learning Puppy. It's a soft toy that plays music, talks, counts, says the parts of the body, sings the ABC's, etc... What we loathe about the Learning Puppy is that you press the off button on it's paw, it says "Good-bye" and then you press it's other paw and... it's singing again. Really? Didn't I just turn you off? Apparently you have to find the actual off switch under it's fur in the back (by the batteries) in order to turn off the Learning Puppy. If it's switched on, you may hear "Tummy" in a cheerful voice because you happened to throw something on top of it in the toy box. I say, if you have an off button on your paw, that means you're off. Am I right?
(7) Toys that say "I love you" (many brands)- I have a philosophical pet-peeve here. You don't love my baby. I love my baby. If a toys says, "I love you" to Liam or Joshua I plainly tell that the toy doesn't really love them, it's a recording on a toy. And then I tell them, I love them because I'm a real person and real people can love them... but a toy can't.
     Before I conclude, I can't help but think that some of you out there may actually try to get my kids these things... because you want to annoy me. Don't think I am not aware of your intentions. If this gift comes to my house in wrapping and it starts making noise before we've even opened it and I hear a "Meow" or a "Choo Choo" or a "It's a great big colorful world out there..." I promise you, I will return the favor on your kid's (or kids') birthday(s)!

On Gaming, Cell Phones & Other Gadgets

2010-12-19T13:23:00.000-08:00

    Are my kids technologically disadvantaged?  I ask this in all sincerity. If you've ever seen Liam play Wii Mario Kart, you would know what I mean. He was recently playing while doing somersaults on the couch. He didn't do too well on Rainbow Road. It's really not his fault. We didn't even get a Wii until last Christmas (age almost-4) and the Mario Kart didn't come until a few months later. So he's had very little training. Over the summer Bill uploaded a few classic games onto the Wii including Super Mario Brothers. Why is it that Liam continues to try to run over the ditch? I say "the ditch" because he hasn't gotten past the first one independently. My 4 year old nephew came over and it turns out he plays Mario Kart with more skill than me (I should preface this by saying I'm not that good). Don't get me started on Joshua. We haven't even started his gaming training. But then again, he's just learning how to hold a marker.
    Why is this even a big deal? Because I'm concerned about my boys' futures. It seems ever more apparent that this world around us is being built up around gadgets and technology. When I was in college, trying to keep up a long distance relationship, we still used email with a black backscreen and green letters. I can only imagine how terrific texting would have been. And now elementary schoolers have their own cell phones (for the record, I've yet to see one in the classroom... or hear one ringing in a backpack for that matter).  In a world where ten year olds know how to text, you've got to start wondering with your preschooler if it's time to step it up a bit. I mean, doesn't he need to practice dexterity on a small keyboard... or maybe that's even out of date... so maybe we should just skip the keyboard and go right to touchscreen.
     Don't get me wrong, I'm not currently standing in line at Radio Shack to purchase my kid an I-Pod. Although I did look into the Crayola MP3 player for Christmas... until I realized he doesn't know how to read yet so how could he choose songs? I'm okay with taking baby steps into the world of technology. We don't have a V-Tech or a V-Smile (although he does have a Smart Cycle). And I'm not into all of those learning video games. Let me explain that from a teaching perspective... I see Liam playing educational games. The Smart Cycle says to bump into the letters A, B & C. Liam drives the cycle furiously with no regard for letters, kicking off incorrect letter after incorrect letter until he gets the right one... and then he's off in search of D, E & F. He plays the games on  Sesame Street (at pbskids.org) and could care less whether he gets an answer right or wrong. In fact, sometimes he prefers the negative buzzer more than the positive bell ringing. He's got a Leapster and I've seen him pressing his share of random buttons. So am I turning my kid into a random button pusher? My point is, that whether he's playing with the Leapster or Leappad, they don't give the type of feedback that real teaching can; and because of that, they just can't teach a kid to read or write on their own.
     What will the world be like in five years when Liam turns 9? Will fourth graders be bringing their cell phones to school? Hmmm... I don't think things actually move that fast. But I certainly don't want Liam to be that tenth grader whose parents won't buy him the texting plan- or who has to use a pay phone to call his parents to get picked up from school. But on the other hand, I probably won't be the parent who stands in line at the cell phone store at midnight to get him the newest smart phone model. No, he'll have to make do with our left over flip phones (just kidding, we haven't bought a flip phone in years). And maybe I'll get him to train intensely on just one or two videogames so he's a pro. I know too many kids who have all of the gaming systems- X-Box, PS2, Wii and Kinect (okay, I"m probably totally wrong here, there's probably a few more significant systems) AND a DS! On a side note- doesn't anyone think that's all a major racket- buying all new systems and games every time the next best thing comes out? I still have my Game Boy. Maybe I'll teach Liam and Joshua how to play Tetris so they can wow all of their friends with their powers of strategic thinking... Hmmm... Or maybe they'd be better off if we just stuck with Mario Kart. There's only so many times you can slide your scooter from the ice flow into the frigid arctic waters before your friends start to only invite you over so they can make fun of you and inflate their egos.

Party Favors

2010-12-12T15:33:00.000-08:00

     Bouncy bounce, science museum, children's museum, skating rink, swimming pool and bowling alley- it's been a year of birthday parties. On a side note, I personally think the bouncy bounce was the most fun... for me. There's nothing quite so silly as a bunch of friends jumping around a bounce house... and occasionally letting their children bounce around too. On the other side of the spectrum... was the swimming pool. A birthday party for a kid turning 4 at a swimming pool? Huh? And this was at a swimming pool with no real shallow end! Not that I actually know this; Bill took Liam to that one. Apparently Liam was wearing a swim vest so was feeling so bold as the hang out in the very deep end, where Bill couldn't touch either so he had to paddle around after Liam for 45 minutes. Maybe Bill should have worn a swim vest too... Although this might not be Bill's least favorite considering he's had to sit through the same silly movie about the Kabooby Ruby (really, I did not make that up) at the local planetarium twice since September.
     But seriously, the birthday parties are endless now that Liam has joined a preschool cohort. There are birthday parties every weekend almost, between his classmates, our friends & family. This weekend I asked Liam to please choose since he was invited to two birthdays- a bowling alley on Saturday and a skating rink today (Sunday). He opted for the skating. There are so many birthday parties that instead of having playdates among friends at his preschool, we've all just planned on meeting up at the next party.
     On a positive note, it's just nothing but celebration after celebration... with a slew of screaming 3-5 year olds. Birthday parties have been following a certain formula recently. It seems we all meet up at a fabulous location and then hang out fairly independently of Liam's peers (i.e. skating with Mommy at the rink or bouncing from exhibit to exhibit shouting, "LOOK AT THE FISH! LOOK AT THE OWL! LISTEN TO ME RING THIS OBNOXIOUS BELL!", etc...). After this, the mass of children sits down and eats pizza, some small pieces of fruit and pretzels. Then there's the cake. And then the children go crazy. It's usually in a small room, clearly not meant for running, and yet this does not stop the children. They run in circles around the tables as though it was a planned activity. They run until one parent actually stops their child loudly and then the other parents are guilted into telling their children to stop running around like maniacs. And then everyone grabs a goodie bag and goes home.
     Celebrations aside, this whole birthday party thing has me a little concerned. Liam & Joshua have birthdays coming up in March. So far our birthday parties have followed a certain formula... parents chatting upstairs, mass hysteria downstairs with minimal supervision, craft activity, possible game, cheap pizza and cake with store-bought ice cream. We enjoy some intimate traditions, like writing birthday notes to my kids on the same tablecloth each year and a cake I make following the given theme. And all of this is made possible by having the party at our own house. Aren't we enough bells and whistles? But this year I'm feeling like somethings may have to change. I doubt our current house could accommodate 20 more kids and their parents. And I doubt it would be enough anyway! So do we have two parties- one for family & friends and the other for classmates? Or do we have one big bash for everyone? And if so, where? It's been a few tough acts to follow one right after the other. But really, that's not what I'm as worried about. Maybe we'll go to the fire station and hire a magician... or better yet, rent the JCC gym so the kids running around like maniacs will be a planned activity. No, my biggest concern is the presents. See, we've been heading out the to store for each of these parties- for classmates, friends & family- buying this and that for all of these boys and girls. So what I'm really concerned about is this... they're all just about ready to return the favor.  So then how many Etch-a-Sketches, Hungry Hungry Hippos and Mr. Potato Heads will we end up with?

I'm All For Independence, But Does It Have To Be So Messy?

2010-12-06T18:24:00.000-08:00

     It's day 145 of our open cup training with Liam and so far we have had spills of juice on about 130 of those days. This is a battle I don't think we will win anytime soon. And yet it all started innocently when Liam started asking for juice in an open cup. And then we started to realize that he really is a big boy and soon will be in school... drinking out of a sippy? No, that just wouldn't do. It was time for Liam to become more independent. It was time for him to drink out of an open cup. Besides, Joshua was using the sippy cups so much by that point that we never had enough left in the cupboards. This is the price of independence... spilled juice.
     What's truly hilarious about all of this spilled juice is its lack of effect on Liam. "Oh. I spilled my juice." And then he returns to eating his banana bread as juice pours over the side of the table, onto first his brother's legs, then the chair, seeping down to the floor. And Liam continues to eat his banana bread. He's ready to be independent enough to ask for the sippy cup but not to actually follow through with what is required of (a) drinking out of a cup without spilling or (b) dealing with repercussions of a great spill. I would love one day without spilled juice about as much as I would welcome a day without changing a diaper. Okay, that's ridiculous, of course I'd prefer a day without diapers!
     Independence. It's what convinces Joshua to clamp down his teeth on top of his toothbrush so that there's no way I could possibly help him fight off cavities. It's what I wait for at the bottom of the stairs... when we're already all late for work & school... while Liam tries to zip up his coat. It's what we all yearn for but then can't stand when the time finally comes. Because independence takes time & patience- and I do tend to lack in both of these areas.
    Having an independent child means you have to give up on being embarrassed. Just leave embarrassment at the front door. It's not a worthy emotion anymore. Because there is a strong likelihood that you will have to leave the house most days with a child whose clothing doesn't match. I know what can happen if a young boy grows up with no fashion sense. I once saw my father wear a plaid shirt with a polka dotted tie. Knowing this could be hereditary, Bill & I do tend to advise Liam when we can about his clothes. So when he came upstairs the other day wearing blue sweatpants, a green & gray striped long sleeved shirt and a short sleeved linen brown & blue bowling shirt; naturally Bill laughed and told him to take off at least two parts of the outfit and wear something else. Independent Liam had a hard time being convinced but eventually Bill found a matching brown shirt to wear under the bowling shirt with a pair of jeans. "Change the shirt or change the pants." Is usually one of the first things we say to Liam when we see him in the morning. Recently instead of saying that, I just told him to stand still so I could take a picture. He was wearing a red & gray striped long sleeved shirt under a blue and orange striped short sleeved shirt. It wasn't working. Ironically, Liam's fashion sense seems to be in fashion at his school. After a particularly fun morning of cajoling Liam out of sweatpants (those same pesky sweats), an oversized t-shirt and a nice but tighter fitting sweater; Bill entered the classroom only to see another boy wearing sweats, an oversized t-shirt covered by a too-tight sweater. Who knew? Liam tells us the top shirt is what everyone wears. To encourage his independence I decided to buy him those 2-in-1 shirts that are on sale at Old Navy.
     Independence is inevitable. And young people need time to develop their own skills through independent practice. So maybe the concept of matching isn't quite sticking yet. And perhaps it's okay that I have to change Joshua's shirt after he eats breakfast each day (because you can't go to the sitter's wearing oatmeal no matter what type of fashion sense you have). Still, I kind of wish Liam & Josh would become more independent in some of these areas because I'm getting really sick of waiting... and waiting... or just doing it myself.
(1) Buckling seatbelts in the car.
(2) Tying shoes.
(3) Writing thank you cards.
(4) Folding laundry (correctly).
(5) Soaping their own hair in the tub.
(6) Remembering to close the door.
(7) Spitting into the sink after brushing teeth (not the side of the sink).
(8) Getting their own breakfast when they wake up before 8 am on a weekend.
(9) Changing his own diaper (Bonus: applying diaper cream)- this one is for Josh specifically.
(10) Cleaning up spilled juice.

Now our house looks just like Santa's house... except for the dreidels

2010-11-30T17:39:00.000-08:00

     I was brought up in a small town so I immediately assumed that my parents did not consider it a priority for me to marry a Jewish man. Or maybe they didn't exactly intend for me to meet my husband in high school? Well, regardless, I did not go off to college to meet a nice Jewish boy. I stuck with my perfectly nice atheist instead. The boy who once said to a priest at Easter, "Hey, I saw you last Christmas". So growing up he was a Creaster. And now he watches conspiracy shows on the "History" Channel about alien ancestors (he just thinks they're interesting; not necessarily true). But this isn't about Bill, or me, it's about our kids.
     Okay, back to me. I have always taken issue with this whole blurring of the lines between Hannukah and Christmas. I don't do the Hannukah bush and we certainly don't get visited by Hannukah Harry. I believe in a peaceful coexistance and appreciation of both holidays. So in our house we have Christmas take-over with... a Hannukah corner in the dining room. Seriously, Christmas seeps out of the pores in our house whereas Hannukah occupies the top of a china hutch. Is this because Bill has taken over? Yeah right. No, it's all me. I put up most of household Christmas decorations. We decorated the tree together as a family, while drinking eggnog and listening to carols on the TV. The truth is, ever since I was a little child; I've loved Christmas. I understand there's deeper meaning for Christians but for the me, the traditions of Christmas are fascinatingly wonderful and I feel that they can peacefully coexist with my little holiday of Hannukah. More about Hannukah later...
     Growing up in this small town, I found it in my best interest to become adopted by Christian families around the holiday seasons. So it started off with just decorating the tree with a family friend, then eating a formal Christmas Eve dinner to finally just immersing myself completely by eating the dinner and then sticking around to go to Mass, sleeping over listening for Santa on the roof and waking up to my own stocking and gifts (from my mom- who fully endorsed my holiday-adoption) under my friend's family's tree. Eventually I became adopted by my future in-laws and have been spending my holidays ever since with them. So you see, this is not new, my love of Christmas.
     But what of the children? And why does Hannukah have such a small corner of our house? Well, it's a lot like the real world, first of all. With sparkling red garlands hanging from the rafters, choirs singing the Messiah (some of my favorite musical pieces to sing), Christmas trees galore and you get the picture... and then one lonely plastic menorah lit up on the storefront window. Does this mean there should be a bigger menorah? Should the chorus have opted for less "New Born King" and more "Dreidel Dreidel Dreidel"? Perhaps, but not on my account. See, Hannukah is a great holiday. It's fun, it commemorates a miracle, sure, but in the grand scheme of Jewish holidays... it's not among the holiest. And our holiest holidays aren't really the type that get malls all excited either (no gift buying for Yom Kippur... no grocery lists... in fact, no eating at all).
     And so it is in our house, we celebrate both. They exist peacefully in the same home with some Hannukah dreidels making their way to the coffee table on the Christmas quilt and some gifts wrapped in Santa paper being opened on a Hannukah night. And Liam telling his teachers at the Jewish Community Center preschool that his favorite holiday is Christamas. Okay, maybe I'm not making it any easier.  Afterall, I'll admit to giving Christmas pajamas as a gift for Hannukah- But I only do it so they can get some use out of the PJ's in the month of December!

Bye Bye Binky... Bye Bye Baby

2010-11-24T14:56:00.000-08:00

     Is it time to say good-bye to baby? Whether you call them binkies, pacifiers, nooks or soothers, when is it really time to just dump them in the trash? I can state decisively right now that if your child is riding his/her bike and you're asking yourself this question; you've waited too long. And if your kid can climb up the playground ladders and slide down the slide on his/her own; again you've waited too long... and if your child has done both at the same time (riden his/her bike to the playground & played independently all while sucking on an oversized pacifier), it was probably me who was looking at you funny.
     I hadn't really thought much about when to wean Joshua of his binky. And to be entirely upfront, Joshua doesn't just have one binky. He prefers three. One for his mouth and two for his hands. And then to be entirely gloating, we have already drawn the line at the crib and I'm happy to report that Joshua will most often even leave his binkies in there after sleepy time and/or throw them back into the crib after his diaper change. I think we have the binky thing under control. My mom-instincts (i.e. the voice that says, "It worked with the first one, it'll probably work with this one too.") tell me that we can wait until Joshua is a little bit older, say birthday #2, he'll drop one binky into the trash as a symbolic gesture and we'll never hear about them again. So then why am I starting to get so worried even though the day-of-truth is still four months away?
     And what about this new trend? I hear moms are weaning their kids of binkies at 3-4 months! Now what's the point of a binky if you can't hush up a screaming six month old? And do they really want to face the I'm-a-manipulative-10-month-old (my child psych class taught me that at 10 months children do indeed learn to be manipulative) -who-cries-until-you-get-into-the-room-and-then-smiles-only-to-whail-again-when-you-leave without a binky?. What about the three hour nap? Isn't that only made possible by binkies? When I think of all of the grocery store trips where a binky came in handy; of all the times we had forgotten a binky and WISHED we hadn't... and to think these well intentioned moms are weaning so soon! Hmmmm... I'm forgetting something aren't I... the baby's benefit perhaps. Maybe there are psychological benefits to babies who are weaned of binkies at earlier ages. Maybe they're less likely to suck their thumbs? But herein lies a quandary... what if when they are deprived of a binky they actually become compelled to suck their thumbs... ooh. I just couldn't take that risk.
     So apparently I've already waited about 14 months too long. So what's another 4? And I don't even have to worry about what other moms think because at least my kid riding a bike while sucking on a binky! He's enjoying his little baby-addiction in the comfort of his own crib... while drinking his bottle ("ba ba") of warm milk. Now can't we just enjoy our babies for a little bit longer and let them keep their binkies and bottles? What is the rush to saying bye-bye baby anyway?

You Can't Always Get What You Want

2010-11-16T18:24:00.000-08:00

     I know why the terrible twos are so terrible. And just for the record, they're not just the terrible twos. Bill & I think the "terribles" track more along the 1/2 years. So 1 1/2 years, 2 1/2 years, etc... but that's besides the point. From about 15-30 months young children struggle to communicate with their elders and peers. But yet they know that there is a mode of communication out there. So they know that there is speech, but they can't quite get there themselves. Either that, or they think that their use of language is perfectly sufficient so it's your problem for not catching on quicker. Both theories support the idea that kids of this age will likely be more frustrated and temperamental, because they know what they want, they know there's a way to communicate what they want but they're failing to do so sufficiently.
     Being wise to this, I started Joshua on sign language at a very early age. We practiced the sign "more" by touching his fingers together, mostly at mealtimes. Really, that's the only sign language I taught Josh. I thought it was the most significant because often when toddlers want something, they get emotional and forget how to speak (kind of like many of us adults). So I thought "more" would be a good term to learn first. But then I didn't know any other sign language so "more" continues to be the only sign in our vocabulary.
     And who wouldn't want more dinosaur chicken? More corn? More of his favorite cartoon? Recently we've been quite proud of our little communicator, asking us for more and even trying to sound it out himself ("muh"). Even Liam responds to Josh's requests for more. Until I realized he wasn't quite asking for "more", but rather just telling us what he wanted.  Yesterday he was eating a bowl of chips with salsa but when he said "more", he wasn't asking for more chips. He was asking for Ritz crackers (this took awhile to figure out).  Ever since Halloween, he has been pointing to the bucket asking for "more".  It's not that hard for me to explain to Liam why we can't have a lot of candy... but Joshua just doesn't seem to grasp the concepts of cavities and hyperactivity yet.
     I think "more" is insufficient. I probably should have studied up on some more sign language vocabulary. I think sign language is really needed for a variety of statements, actually.  Toddlers do struggle so much to communicate with us, don't you think it would be easier for them to just say with a quick sign, "I'm not really sick, I just want your undivided attention for the next 3 hours". Sign language could help a younger sibling communicate with his older brother or sister, "Leave me alone" or better yet, "When I'm old enough, I will beat you up." And it really could help us solve a significant loss problem in our house; I really do wish there was a sign for, "I dropped your Blue Tooth behind the couch."   What we really need is one of those communicators you find in movies like "Up" and "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs"- you know, the one that makes the dog talk in Up and the monkey talk in Cloudy...? Yeah, then a toddler could really get their message across clearly! Like, for example, "I have a poopy diaper, it's really uncomfortable, but I don't want you to change it and if you do I will do all sorts of leg kicks and twists and flips and then run away from you naked."
     That's the fun thing about this stage of communication. A lot of it is guessing! And, of course, there's always the balancing act of knowing what that kid of yours is crying over and actually giving it to him or her. But if he uses the "more" sign, shouldn't we just reward that communication? Or will that just make the next stage so much harder- the stage of realizing that you can ask for what you want... but you might not get it anyway. Kind of like candy. Because there's no way I'm giving my baby a candy bar every time Joshua says "more" looking at that bright orange bucket. Afterall, if I did, then there wouldn't be any chocolate left for me...

Of all the things I've lost, it's my composure (and cell phone) I miss the most

2010-11-14T17:10:00.000-08:00

     Some of my most vivid moments of my mother are of her losing her keys... and then finding them in her purse. Sorry mom, I remember lots of other things too, good things, but I do remember you losing your keys a lot. "Where are my keys?" was the first thing I could expect to hear when we got in the car on our way to school, the grocery store or anything else.
     So that panic of losing the keys is never too far away from any of us, I think. At least none of us with big, full purses. I think I lose my keys about as often as my mother did. The difference is I don't ask my teenage daughter, "Where are my keys?" I just try to calmly look for them in the purse where they're supposed to be. And sometimes they're not there. Sometimes the keys are in a coat pocket or on the banister. But usually there are the keys, hiding in a dimly lit corner of my purse.
     It really came as no surprise to me the other day when I lost my cell phone. I've lost it plenty of times before. Cell phones are no longer those bulky shiny things that used to stretch our pants pockets. No, mine is a cute little Pixi. It's thin, black and unassuming. And that's why I lose it so often. Once I searched everywhere, even had the neighbor calling me, only to find it 15 minutes later on top of the coffee maker (which is also black). So losing it in my fake black Coach bag (I was recently informed- nicely- that it's a fake, just thought I'd be upfront) was no surprise.
     I emptied out the contents of the el-cheapo bag I had gotten as a hand-me-down (kind of hoping it was real but not wanting to ask) but to no avail. There was no cell phone in there. I looked in my shopping bags, not there either. I told Liam I was stressed, he didn't seem affected. I informed Liam and Josh we were all going to have to get out of the car and look for the phone together. The kids were already strapped in. As each mother out there knows, once the kids are strapped in, getting out of the car really is not desirable. I mean, the hard work is done, the wrestling is over and it's time to go home. But no, we had to go back to the store.
     And go back to the store we did. We went back to both stores, two times each. We retraced steps. We stopped back at stores we hadn't been to, but maybe someone had turned in a cell phone dropped on the sidewalk? I started to panic. I was wearing a winter coat and it was getting very hot. And I was in a complete state of flusteredness. Liam was very cooperative, for a four year old. He even splayed himself flat onto the filthy store floor to look under shelves for the phone. People started to look at me, not out of helpfulness or even pity but out of fear- who is this crazy lady and her wild children? Why does she keep telling her kid, she's a bit stressed? Why didn't she bring her baby in a stroller? Yes, in my infinite wisdom during this wild goose chase, I had decided to carry Joshua instead of pushing him in a stroller. Because apparently taking the extra 3 1/2 minutes to get the stroller... was out of the question. And this was about the time that Joshua decided to practice his butterfly stroke which involved precisely timed, strong kicks with both legs; folding himself in half and pulling my hair. It was lovely.
     At one store we stopped in, while I waited in line, I suggested to Liam that he play with some toys I saw set up for... kids... by the check-out. Unfortunately one of the toys they had set out was a car on a hill. Why they would put that in front of a rack is beyond me. Luckily Liam put the brakes on his accelerating Radio Flyer before he hit the rack. Meanwhile the cashier decided to stop helping her current customer just to get rid of me and take my phone # to look for the lost cell phone.
     Here's the mia culpa. After all those times of refusing to panic and thinking myself a calm individual. After all of those times of specifically not rushing to conclusions over lost items ("It was stolen!"). After all of the lost blue tooths, which don't even phase me anymore by the way. After all of this I completely lost myself. Over a cell phone.
     And as I resigned myself to this loss in my life, I saw a blinking light and shiny black surface underneath the back end of my car. I saw my cell phone. So naturally, I had Liam sprawl himself out on the parking lot pavement (perfectly safe, I assure you) to retrieve my lost cell phone.

Is Also a Thief

2010-11-10T18:58:00.000-08:00

Teenagers don't snuggle with their parents... they refuse to give a mom or dad a hug on their way out to school and I'm pretty sure a kiss on the cheek is out of the question. And because teens don't show affection to their parents, I"m pretty sure pre-teens don't either (because they're trying to be cool, like teens). Add on to that the fact that I'm a mother of two boys and we end up with this sad but likely scenario that my days of getting hugs, kisses and cuddles may very well be numbered. I mean, we're pretty much talking about 4-6 more years of hugging, kissing and cuddling with my kids. I'd hope for more because Josh is still so young but he starts off as less of the affectionate kind and also he'll want to emulate his older brother by ignoring his mother, I'm sure.
It's already pretty hard to capture a real cuddle from our kids. True, you can get a good solid hug and even a kiss just by asking... but to get a sit-still-and-cuddle-moment? Those usually have to be stolen. For those of you who are interested in stealing as many cuddles as you can before your kids become pre-teens (or worse... teens), I've compiled a few ideas for places/ways to catch an honest-to-goodness-cuddle.
1) Movie Night- No real reason to hit the theaters; they have armrests which impede a good cuddle. So curl up on your own couch and save some bucks. It's not too much TV if you're right there with them! If it makes you feel better, you can talk about the characters, plot and setting. Now, once you've got your kid in a cuddle, don't move. This might be hard but if you move, they'll get antsy and move farther away from you. And then you're stuck watching Care Bears: The Movie and you're not even getting a cuddle out of it.
2) After a nap- We find that post-nap is a great time for a cuddle because the kids are so groggy!
3) Middle of the night- This isn't the best option if you're looking for an interactive cuddle (i.e. the kid actually enjoying the cuddling with you) but still, that peaceful sleeping face is so sweet. Maybe if you have time you can just lie next to them for a few minutes.
4) Looking at the stars- This isn't just a bad pick-up line anymore... (A friend of mine actually did fall for that line once)... You can use those glow-in-the-dark stars like we did in Liam's room or you could be more realistic/outdoorsy and opt for the real-deal. Either way, make it a nightly ritual to look up at those stars before bedtime. Just try not to fall asleep while looking.
5) In a hammock- This works great because hammocks immediately trap you and your unsuspecting cuddler. Then there's the calming swaying back and forth, back and forth, and the cloud formations to look at too! A great way to steal a good cuddle!
6) Christmas- You know all of that excitement relating to the holiday? Not to mention the fact that your kids will have woken up way too early? Well take advantage of their utter exhaustion, gratitude and euphoria and steal a cuddle at the end of the day. Forget about the dishes- that's what December 26th is for.
7) Anytime you're trying to go somewhere or get something done- Never fails; if you need to get to the store between snack time and dinnertime, it's likely that is when you're kids would prefer to just stay home... cuddling. If you need to do the laundry, guess who would prefer to give Mommy a hug? Have you ever tried to cuddle while emptying the dishwasher? It's not great but you can't be too picky.
8) Storytime- Yes! You've got them trapped with the power of prose! Now steal those cuddles before they squirm away! It really doesn't matter how many times you've read "But Not the Hippopotamus", just read it again and again and again! I suggest interactive books like the lift-the-flap ones for longer sustained reading.
9) Bribery- If it's an emergency and your kids just won't cuddle without "reinforcements", try offering them candy in return for a cuddle. Or if you don't like bribery but you aren't averse to trickery, give them a slow-to-finish candy like a lollipop and plop them down on your lap to enjoy. Nice. For an added bonus, give yourself a piece of that candy too.

10) Now here's the best way to steal a cuddle and it doesn't last long so you need to savor it... Cuddle with a newborn baby. They are so unsuspecting, they actually love to cuddle. Think of the warm embrace they've enjoyed for the past 9 months, now isn't that just what they're craving now that they're born? Isn't that why they curl up on your shoulder with their knees bent and feet tucked under? Isn't that why they fall asleep nestled in the nook of an arm? Plus, they need you so really it's the least they can do to cuddle with you. Enjoy the newborn cuddle, it's so sweet and perfect and warm. Enjoy it so much that you can save it up, like in a piggy bank. So when you're looking at your 13 year old sitting in the passenger's seat and he refuses even to give his dear mother a kiss goodbye before school, you can just close your eyes and remember how when he was a newborn, that little guy just needed you so much that he wanted nothing more than to be close to you. And as those days slowly approach for me, I will remember just how much I have loved every kiss, hug and cuddle... even the ones I've stolen.

Yearns for a Sunburn (because that means I've been on the beach and have sat still long enough to lose track of time)

2010-11-04T19:25:00.000-07:00

     Just looking at the picture made me breath a relaxed sigh. A slight smile came on my face as I looked up from the book to a small group of students in front of me. It was a picture of a beach. Dunes surrounded the page with an image of an empty beach chair begging me to sit down, take a rest, enjoy. There was a matching red & white striped umbrella next to the chair and in front lay endless sea, crashing waves and an eternal sense of happiness and sheer bliss. My students smiled and shared stories about their experiences at a beach- which was the objective of the lesson but also a nice reprieve from our daily grind of skills, practice and assessment. For a short time we were lost in our connections, our memories of happy times spent on the shore. I could feel my feet in the sand, hear the crashing of the waves, sense the pages of a novel between my fingers and the steady warmth of the sun beating down on my skin. I may have even given an audible sigh... until I was brought back to reality.
      When was the last time I enjoyed a trip to the beach in this way? When did I allow myself to surrender to the sound of the waves, to forget so much about time that I actually got sun-poisoning (answer: Mexico 2001)? No, the last time I went to the beach it was in New Jersey. We entered the beach through a bar, which would have been promising except for the circumstances. We walked up over the deck and saw the beautiful ocean laid out in front of us... and that's when Liam told me that he couldn't possibly carry his sand toys so I was left to lug all of his shovels and pails and sandcastle molds, with our chairs, and our towels, and our sunscreen, and the umbrella, and somewhere in there (piled at the bottom) my book. We settled in and soon were in the water with Liam.  The year before when we went to the ocean, Liam was scared but this time he was much more brave so me & my 9 month pregnant sister decided to go a little deeper- just below waist high. The waves were fun, we jumped and giggled. It was a bit too late before we noticed a gigantic wave that was just about to crash right over our heads and sure enough it did, tossing all three (actually four if you count the baby) of us forward. Now I remember being washed ashore as a kid and hating it but loving it at the same time. Thankfully, that's how Liam felt about the experience (after we got the salt out of his eyes) but me and my sister had a much different feeling about the experience of being trashed by a wave as a mother. For my sister, obviously it was unpleasant and scary but she managed to protect her baby-belly. For me it was highly traumatic- not just during as I thrust Liam as far up and forward as I could, away from the breaking wave so he wouldn't drown. Afterwards I couldn't help but imagine that he had been swept away by the wave into the undertow.  You know when you just can't stop thinking of the worst-case-scenario?
     What is there to enjoy at the beach if you can't play in the waves? Maybe some sunbathing? And that's about when I realized I was the only female on the beach wearing a "Mom Suit" complete with tankini and matching skirt. Really, everyone (even my pregnant sister) was wearing a bikini. I do own bikinis, it's just that over the years of going to public & community center pools and state park beaches, it's just kind of been beaten out of me. Moms wear mom-suits, not bikinis. Apparently that rule doesn't apply on the New Jersey Shore. Okay so I wasn't going to win best-dressed or sexiest lady on the beach. Once I gave that up, we started looking for shells and clams and I had to keep up with Liam who kept hitting on cute girls (telling them all about who knows what) because he doesn't fully grasp the need for personal space... ever. Plus I sat under an umbrella- that's how I know I'm over 30. I actually sat under an umbrella. And somehow, I still got a sunburn on my shoulder. Ridiculous.
     And that was it. Going to the beach wasn't nearly as relaxing as I'd remembered it before I had responsibility over another human being. It just isn't the same anymore. And as that realization hit me, the kids in the small group looked sympathetically toward me and told me that soon enough, Liam & Josh would be old enough to play on their own at the beach. Someday they would run in the waves on their own and build their own sandcastles with the seashells they found without me. But these were shallow reassurances. Because I know these children. I know that their moms have taken them to the beach with full intent of drinking a daiquiri and reading a chapter (just one chapter) in their book only to be handed the boogie board their son couldn't carry by himself, to pick up the sunglasses she dropped as she ran full force into the water, to watch nervously as he jumped fearlessly into a giant crashing wave, to listen to endless nagging about why she couldn't have a virgin daiquiri and whether he could have $ so he could rent one of those cool banana boats or go para sailing. And I know most of their moms probably couldn't even find the bikini (just like me) and here these sweet children were telling me that soon I would get to relax but I totally didn't believe them.
     No, there will be no relaxing at a beach anytime soon; at least not without a babysitter and a couple of airline tickets. I might never again pack lightly for the beach. But I am pretty sure next time I go to the Jersey Shore, at the very least, I will pack my bikini (if I can find it).

Reached A New Level Of Uber-Efficiency

2010-10-31T11:14:00.000-07:00

     All before lunch today, my kids & I got a workout, worked on a much-dreaded chore, had playtime, spent time outdoors, got tired out (for some of us to have a nap), took care of the poison ivy problem behind the fence, learned first-hand about teamwork and also had a science lesson. Actually, this was all accomplished in about 1 1/2 hours. What did we do to accomplish so much? We raked leaves.
     I'm not sure if it's good or bad but I seem to be incapable of just letting my kids play. Actually, that's not true, we do plenty of that (during the summer) but now I am in uber-efficiency mode because it's the school year and I know that each minute of every nap counts. There's no way I'm going to use up precious naptime for something as grueling as exercise and I've learned my lesson about exercising just for the sake of exercising while the kids are awake. And as for chores, same thing! It's not that I'm lazy during nap time. Quite the opposite. Most weekends I bring home a suitcase of schoolwork home and a to-do list that would have been hard to accomplish even if I didn't have kids. Plus, I need to watch all those shows I DVR'd throughout the week. So no, I wouldn't waste a good naptime for doing the dishes. Not when I can make it a family event!
     So today we went outside with the pure intention of playing (and tiring the kids out so I could do schoolwork during their nap). But there they were... the dreaded leaves. We've had our fun with them but now they're turning our lawn yellow. Now to truly trick children into helping you, you need to just start working. It doesn't hurt to have two of the same size rakes. Today I tried to get Joshua to use a third rake, which was only about 1 foot long and plastic (a sandbox toy). He wasn't buying it and insisted on using my rake, which got him a bit frustrated. Now when a little helper gets frustrated, it's best to drop everything and distract them with something fun (i.e. jumping into a leaf pile) and then incorporate your work into it (i/e. raking leaves on top of the child). So we did this and before I knew it we were all back in the work-mode. Meanwhile Liam and I had a great conversation about how if we put our piles together and raked them at about the same time, we could move the pile much faster. Then we used our two rakes to "sandwich" the leaves and toss them over the fence. Some people like to burn their leaves and more civilized people put them into neat paper bags by the curb for the town to pick up. But we have a poison ivy problem on the other side of the fence so I prefer to dump all the leaves to smother out our little "issue" on the other side of the fence. While we were working in uber-productive mode, Liam informed me that leaves can make new trees. Serious misinformation but we had time to chat so I explained that acorns make new trees but leaves make food. He then told me that if you look with a microscope at a leaf, you can see the stored food. I explained it a little bit more to him and there you go, we had a hands-on science lesson! On our way inside, we stopped to inspect other trees whose leaves were turning colors and to discuss the evergreen on our front walkway.
     Multi-tasking with kids doesn't have to end with leaf raking. We often multi-task with laundry too. First, we all end up with clean clothes but then matching socks is educational, right? Not to mention the exercise of making Liam run up & down stairs to put his clothes away in the correct drawers (or the exercise of an out of shape mother doing laundry circuits up and down the stairs). Baking involves measurement, a special treat for mom & dad, a reading activity and when it's all done it makes you look like a great hostess because... you actually baked! But a word of caution- it's probably a good idea to read the recipe before you start since reading while helping a child crack an egg into the badder is... a bit challenging. Once I forgot to read the directions and we ended up with zucchini bread with the seeds still in it. And what about the multi-tasking of playdates? A day for kids to play while their moms and/or dads hang out near the playground (okay, that's just a pipe dream- usually we end up on the same playground, true, but darting from this piece of equipment to that, catching each other's children and sliding down the slide in compromising positions).
     Of course, multi-tasking can have it's poor side effects. Like it could end up breaking your vacuum. Or result in making sub-standard baked goods.
     Being so good at multi-tasking, one would think I would keep an immaculate house and that I would be on top of my entire to-do list. If you think that, than you haven't visited my house unannounced lately or seen my to-do list. No, my house is far from clean. The leaves that blew into the house via the back porch last weekend... they're still there. And the sink full of dishes, it's still full (to be fair, no matter how often I load & unload the dishwasher, it does just seem like more dishes are waiting to be cleaned). Maybe if we had $ for a maid but I'm pretty sure they're expensive and I'm too stubborn to pay someone to vacuum my house. And maybe I would be able to stay on top of things if I didn't bring home such a full bag every night and weekend, hoping to expend every extra sliver of energy during nap or after bedtime to do schoolwork. So for now, multi-tasking isn't just for fun, exercise or a chance to bond with my family. It's really a matter of survival! So for now we'll keep multi-tasking; like having family night at the grocery store...

P.S. Does anyone know how to spell "uber". I think I spelled it wrong.

Has a Secret Hiding in the Closet

2010-10-26T18:55:00.000-07:00

     I'd like to introduce you to Frank. Frank spends most of his time in our hallway closet. He's our vacuum. I've decided to call him Frank because he truly is the Frankenstein of vacuums. Frank and I have been through a lot. I've appreciated his wheels when I've had to lug the canister up and down the hallway while carrying a baby. Frank is the perfect height to fit under our coffee table to vacuum up stray Cheerios. And really, as much as I complain about vacuuming the stairs (truly my least favorite of all household chores- except for doing the garbage, that's just horrible- mostly because I"m lazy and don't want to go outside), it's really not so bad with my trusty canister vacuum.
     Now over the years, Frank has become a bit decrepit. Right now he's literally held together with duct tape. This is due to an unfortunate incident where I thought it would be a good idea to involve both boys in vacuuming.   So I had Liam vacuuming with Joshua riding the canister (did I mention this was my idea) and was actually slightly surprised when the hose came off of the canister. Bill taped it back on but it hasn't quite been the same since. This would have been devastating if (1) it wasn't already considered a decrepit vacuum cleaner or (2) if I actually thought it couldn't be fixed and would have to immediately buy a vacuum. Instead we've been using the taped together vacuum for the last 4 months. Before the unfortunate riding-on-the-vacuum incident, we had our fair share of vacuum mishaps. The plug came off of the cord (but it cost only about $1.50 to fix with a new plug and a Handy-Manny-Husband- without the accent or talking tools). Joshua likes to steal the light cover on the vacuum head and has stolen it so many times that I just stopped putting the cover back on (in fact, I think the cover is in his toy box right now). Liam was vacuuming the stairs last week (I know, you're thinking about what a genius I am, getting my son to do my second least favorite chore for me) and kept screaming over the vacuum cleaner attachment: "It keeps falling off!" And I couldn't help but wonder, why would they make a vacuum cleaner attachment with a removable brush anyway?
     A few years ago Bill bought me a new vacuum for Christmas. There it was, a brand new upright vacuum cleaner. He thought he was hilarious, buying such a useful gift for Christmas. But after looking up its ratings on Consumer Reports, we returned that one with the expectation of buying a new one with better ratings. That was 2 years ago (or maybe 3?).
     I'm really not in too much too much of a hurry anyway. It seems like every time I shop for new vacuums there are new features which seem so appealing- like Hepa Filters & extending vacuum hoses!  If I wait long enough, there could be a such thing as a vacuum that vacuums stairs without my assistance (think of the Roomba Helicopter). I'm really glad we didn't keep that upright anyway- last time I shopped for vacuums I picked up one of those uprights and they were so much heavier than Frank! If I thought vacuuming the stairs with Frank was a chore, imagine it with an upright! That was a close call! For now, I think I'll just continue to hide Frank in the closet. I'll just continue to tell people that we didn't vacuum... just so they don't get their expectations too high.

Has Sticky Fingers

2010-10-22T18:13:00.000-07:00

I went trick or treating when I was in high school. I admit it. One year in high school (yes, I actually went trick or treating in high school more than once) we knocked on the door of this beautiful house across the street from our school and I couldn't help but comment, "I think your house is so beautiful, I always look out the window during class at your house." So did the homeowner look at me oddly because I was stalking his house or because I just gave away my age? Who knows. To be fair, I was a Halloween purist. I didn't believe in pranks or anything like that. I was really out because I just loved to dress up (I was a circus that year, the next year I was a cowgirl) and go house to house getting candy. I don't even remember liking the candy, more just the walking around in the dark with friends. We could have been unruly, we just chose not to.

Years past between my later high school years, college years and young adulthood before Halloween was able to regain its excitement. I once tried sitting on my boyfriend's (now hubbie's) porch doing my coursework while passing out candy to young children. None came. Just a handful of big kids. I dressed up in my cowgirl costume going to college parties where all of the other girls were dressed as Superwoman and french maids. Once I got my teaching job, Halloween took on a whole different meaning- loud parties with swarms of people clogging the school hallways... I barely had any energy for Halloween after that- not that it mattered because still, all we got at our door were a few big kids with pillowcases.

Imagine my excitement when I had kids of my own. Kids who love candy and any excuse to get more candy. Imagine the thrill of getting to walk around at night again, chat with neighbors and collect Twix bars... Mmmm... And so, Halloween has become a spectacle once again. I have an excuse to make a Halloween costume again. Just like when I was a kid and got the big idea to be a Cheerio box (and then painted the box all by myself) or a pizza (another of my creations, complete with a pizza cutter), now as a parent I get to concoct these crazy costuming schemes. Usually it goes something like this: I get a costume at a garage sale and then convince Liam that that's what he wants to be. I mean, seriously, one year I found him a fire fighter's rain coat complete with hat. That's awesome! It was a dual function costume for heaven's sake! Last year I found Joshua's costume (a shark- seriously I didn't think anything could be as cute as a baby lobster costume, but this was) so I convinced Liam to be a surfer. This year Joshua's hand-me-down was a dinosaur but I decided that it was a dragon and "quickly convinced" (that means strong-armed) Liam to be a wizard. Only, there didn't seem to be any wizard costumes for less than $10 anywhere I looked. I almost gave up and allowed him to be an astronaut. I had him try on my bathrobe & his bathrobe but neither worked. I returned to the craft store for the second night in a row and eventually settled on a shiny fabric for at 50% off a yard. It still came to over $12 but as a poncho with a witch hat and my Suma Cum Laud (wouldn't it be really ironic if I spelled that wrong, in fact, I'm not going to even look up the correct spelling) rope tassel thingies he does look a bit like a wizard. As a finishing touch we went with a white felt beard. Only who knew that felt can't be glued together... so I just spent 20 minutes sewing glued felt together. My hands are still sticky.
Apparently the new tradition in my house is converting the basement to a haunted house. We spent one afternoon as a family setting up the haunted house. We hid monsters in the Bat Cave, taped spiders to the Thomas trains and made a series of tunnels using ... tunnels and blankets. Meanwhile Joshua walked around behind us putting Batman and Robin on the train tracks, walking around with the brain from Ned's Head and pulling down every blanket, tassel and piece of toilet paper he could wrap his fingers around.

Halloween. It's one of those holidays with hidden (and not so hidden) costs a not-so-perfect crafter's nightmare. A holiday where it's not enough to make macaroni & cheese- you have to make it in muffin tins with olive eyes and spinach legs (swamp creatures) or plain chicken- it's got to be chicken fingers, of course! It's a holiday of cupcakes, candy corn, popcorn balls and apple cider donuts (I swear I heard a kid in school today say, "I just ate so much candy, I think I'm diabetic"). It's a holiday where licensed characters roam around your neighborhood (think of the Power Rangers, Thomas the Train and Tigger walking hand-in-hand). And yet, if for just one hour on Halloween night I get to pull my two guys in our spooked-out Halloween wagon and we get to walk through a couple of cemeteries on the way to a neighbor's front door on a crisp fall evening... well, that just brings me back to the good old days (when I was back in high school).

Had a Crappy Day

2010-10-15T18:41:00.000-07:00

     Today I went to school with poop on my shirt. I mean, I walked into my place of business with human poop on my shirt. Seriously? Really? Have I reached an all-time low of lack of hygiene? Yes. No really, it was an unpredictable incident considering that Josh is way past the stage of leaky diapers. I changed his diaper this morning and I did notice that his clothes needed to be changed so I gave him a new pair of jeans & a new shirt. But what about my clothes? I was in too much of a rush to notice that when I picked him up, he must have leaked a little onto my shirt too.
     This wasn't all bad news though. Actually from here the day did start improving- I mean really, when you hit an all-time low like seeing poop on your shirt when you're standing in your workplace bathroom, it really can only go uphill from there, right? So first I consider it a blessing that I noticed the poop rather than some child exclaiming, "What smells like crap?" and then realizing it would be me... their teacher. And let's say a child didn't notice it- today was parent teacher conference day- so I'm very appreciative that it wasn't a parent who caught a whiff of my poopy shirt. So this was all good because, first of all, I recognized the problem. Then it got even better. Several colleagues are participating in an upcoming Making Strides event and we were supposed to wear our team t-shirts today. Oh wonderful! Now I had an excuse not to wear my poopy shirt! And thankfully I had not had the foresight to take the Making Strides t-shirt home (to wash it) before the event! It was sitting right there by my desk! So I changed into the Making Strides shirt and used the opportunity to wash my other shirt. There was even time to dry it on the air vent. I didn't even get any questions from the kids- "Why is your shirt sitting on the air vent?" Because kids don't ever really notice things like that (in fact, it's not uncommon for me to find one of their go-gurt containers laying on the floor after school or glue toppled over and leaking onto counters or anything significant like that so why would they notice a t-shirt on the air vent?).    By the time parent teacher conferences came around this afternoon, my shirt was freshly dried and it didn't have that poopy scent either (thanks to copious amounts of anti-bacterial soap- seriously, I think I cleaned that shirt better than my washing machine would have)!
     The morale of the story is this... never trust your baby not to poop on you. This goes for infants as well as toddlers. Maybe even preschoolers. Just when you least expect it, they will poop on your shirt or worse- in the bathtub. Your baby does love you but that will still not stop him/her from pooping on you when you let your guard down. In the event that you do get pooped on, it would be a good idea to have an extra shirt at work, or at least some Febreeze. For me, I consider getting pooped on just one of those things working moms deal with. Okay, to be fair most working moms probably get away with never having their business suits soiled but me, I'm just not one of those moms so just to be sure, I think I'll keep the extra t-shirt in my bottom drawer.

Is Done With Mommy & Me Yoga!

2010-10-13T19:04:00.000-07:00

     Several months ago Bill & I decided that our scale was broken. We promptly threw it away and it hasn't been replaced since. Ever since I have been living the sweet life of ignoring when my pants snap open in public, eating popcorn covered in parmesan cheese right before bed and generally stalking the faculty room for snacks. But it has caught up to me, I suppose. The evil doctor's office scale with it's 4 pound overages (at least that's what Bill claims), the aforementioned pants that refuse to cooperate by staying snapped and the fact that my mom jeans seem to be filling out in the gut area... So it may be time to exercise... I suppose.
     Previous attempts at exercise have not gone well since I've had kids. Well, to be fair, I did enjoy the Mommy & Me yoga class I took with Liam when he was an infant but it's really all gone downhill since then. I enjoy yoga as much as the next person but I do not enjoy downward facing dog while having my hair pulled by a baby and having a four year old try to climb over Mommy Mountain. Likewise, it's equally uncomfortable in upwards facing dog with two kids sitting on your back. And doing the boat pose with Josh sitting "in the boat" (pretty much on my belly while I try to keep my legs bent at the knee and feet levitating) is also not so fun. I've tried other more fun workouts like the Bollywood dancing. It just ends up a massive flurry of scarves and then Liam complains that the music "isn't rock and roll enough". The Family Walk program is met with the least possible amount of enthusiasm.
     So exercising with children is out. Which leaves the early morning hours. HAH! Conveniently, however, with Liam's preschool at the community center, we also have a membership to the gym, classes & pool (this wasn't really an option and we do have to pay for it, so it's less of a perk and more of a necessity). Being extremely cheap, I feel it's our job to make use of this gym membership and in doing so to hopefully encourage the snap on my pants to stay closed (unless it's a defective snap, that is possible, right?).
     After 4 months of membership, I went to my first yoga class this past week. Literally, my first yoga class ever (besides the Mommy & Me class but that class involved babies sleeping, simple stretches and nursing whenever baby was hungry). And because the world is hilarious like that, the only spot available for me was in the front. So not only did everyone get to see my lack of balance and grace, I also got to see it face front in the mirror. Now on my way to yoga I thought to myself that I didn't care what this instructor asked us to do (the wheel, pigeon or chair... bring it on) as long as there were no babies, toddlers or preschoolers looming about. True, I was able to do a downward facing dog without having my leg pulled out from under me, but then who was to blame when I struggled to keep my balance in airplane pose? And where were my scapegoats when I found that doing the wheel was simply not an option for me and I needed a break (okay, I'll take a break from this grueling yoga practice to get you a cookie)?
     Needless to say, this might be the push I need to get myself back in shape. I'm not a lazy person but I admit to lately preferring a Cheetoh over an apple. But it's about time for me to get back to reality. True, it takes guns of steel to shred cheese while holding a 25 pound clingy child... but apparently that doesn't help tone my jelly belly. So for now, I think I will wake up at the silly early hour of 5:30 am so I can squeeze in a workout before the day begins. And maybe... just maybe... in a few weeks in class I'll be able to graduate from the 2 pound weights (yes, laugh at me) to the 4 pound ones! And maybe I'll even be able to do the tree pose while leaning to one side with my weight held over my head... without falling over. But just in case, I think next time I'll leave the kids a few minutes earlier to get a spot in the back...

Attempts to Offer Advice to the New Mommies Out There!

2010-10-10T17:56:00.000-07:00

     This weekend I went to see my sister and her new baby. He turned two weeks old and has at least a month left of that newborn status where he gets to look around the world with hazy eyes and (my favorite part) curl up onto a warm shoulder to take a nap. Soon enough she/he'll be a round, bright eyed baby squirming to get wherever he wants to go and babbling to say whatever is on his/her mind! And so in honor of this brand new baby in the family, I have a few words of advice to any new mother or any mother who has older kids & may have forgotten about the baby stages already (like I did before this weekend)...

(1) Keep the diaper on the baby at all times. If you take a diaper off, you risk immediate peril to your fluffy slippers, leather couch and/or white carpet.
(2) Relating to #1- When you are holding a naked baby and you say, "He/She is peeing on me!" You better hope that it's pee.
(3) Don't expect any clothing to actually fit your newborn baby. Even the newborn sizes don't fit newborn babies.
(4) Baby toys are useless. If the package says anything below 3 months, you can just laugh about it and save yourself the $12.
(5) Relating to #4- I don't think any baby I've ever met has actually liked having a rattle on their socks, mittens or wrists.
(6) Many people say that when your baby sleeps, you should sleep but I disagree. While taking a nap with baby is the pure definition of bliss... if you're not holding the baby you may want to consider one of the following options during his/her short nap: (a) Take a shower; it's 3 pm! or (b) Do the dishes; your husband is more likely to cook dinner for you when he gets home if the sink is empty.
(7) If you're wondering where to put the baby when you're not holding him, this is where either one of those 3 bouncy seats you have put together would come in handy or where it would be handy to have a carpeted floor, a blanket and no animals in the house (in my experience, animals tend to steal binkies... but then again when I had my first baby our animal in the house was a ferret).
(8) If you get your baby a cute matchy outfit (ie pants, shirt, jacket, hat, booties, etc...) expect only 2/3 of the outfit to fit. Clearly some outfits are cuter on the hanger but never expected to actually be worn (think of it kind of like those super sexy numbers in Victoria's Secret).
(9) Relating to #8- It might be awhile before you can walk into a Victoria's Secret without feeling "awkward"- particularly if you're walking into Victoria's Secret (a) Looking for a nursing bra (b) With a stroller and/or (c) In bleach-stained baggy sweats (because they're the only thing that fit).
(10) If you are a klutz, like this Worst Best Mom Ever, than you may want to constantly dress your baby with a cute, padded hat. That way when you walk too close to the door frame, baby won't get hurt.
(11) Baths can really be relaxing for babies... and the baby will be naked... so expect the unexpected while bathing the baby. And often times (if you have a boy), the unexpected will come in a rather large arch so you may want to clear off whatever is around the sink or tub before bathing baby.
(12) For the baby's first doctor's appointment, you should bring two extra changes of clothing for the baby... and an extra change of clothes for yourself too (again, since doctor's visits include baby nudity).
(13) Consider pictures your baby might regret when he/she gets older (nudity & cross dressing to be specific). Then decide if that means you want to avoid taking the picture or perhaps take more pictures just like it.
(14) Cadbury eggs might keep you from going crazy.
(15) I think I made this one up when I had my first baby- "Everything works sometimes and sometimes nothing works". Then I had my second baby and he taught me that "Often times anything works". So in conclusion, I guess that just means that you can toss out all of the advice (#s1-14) anyone ever gives you and just follow your instinct.

     Okay and just to wrap it up... here's the worst advice we ever received upon becoming parents... Actually, Bill received the advice and I really doubt he ever followed it...
*Wait 2 weeks to taste the breast milk. And when you do taste it, try it in your coffee!
     And now, in a shameless effort to encourage others to comment!!! What is your advice to a new mommy? And I don't mean that cheesy advice that you give people for that game at the baby shower, I mean your real-life advice!

Has Earned Some Perspective

2010-10-04T19:18:00.000-07:00

     Perspective comes with age and it can't be rushed. Take, for example, a young person's musical tastes. Liam is perpetually seeking out his own brand of "rock star" music. When he finds it, he breaks into a semi-violent air guitar routine which inevitably ends up knocking him off his own feet and giving me a headache (I have much to look forward to in ten years). One night we were having a family dance party and taking requests. Liam kept saying, "That's not hard enough!" Now my husband was one of those kids who made the whole house shake with his musical choices in high school... so our CD collection is not lacking in hard rock and even some stuff that's so hard it makes my eyes roll back in my head. After Liam kept asking for harder, Bill finally gave in and put on a Napalm Death CD (of course, we didn't tell Liam the name of the band). We were informed that Napalm Death was not hard enough. I suggested Pantera. Still not hard enough for Liam. That's saying quite a lot. I remember the first time I heard Pantera when I was in my teens and just at the sound of it, it made me cry. So when Liam didn't think Pantera was hard enough, we were a bit perplexed. Until Liam said in a disappointed voice, [sigh] "I should have just put on my Chimpunks rock and roll CD." Oh, perspective. That's what he wanted. And while it wasn't exactly "hard" listening to the chipmunks sing "Three Little Birds", that was Liam's perspective on what hard rock and roll really was. So we gladly obliged (but somehow my headache got worse).
     Oh perspective. How can I explain to Liam how it's simply not possible that he "loves Christmas more than I love him"? Well, to tell the complete story, he first told me that he loves Christmas more than he loves me. Then to top it off, he told me that his love for Christmas was more than my love for him. Really? How could I change that perspective so that the next day he wouldn't go wandering into his Jewish preschool telling people all about how his love of Christmas supersedes my love for him? I asked him why he loves Christmas. Because of the toys, the fun and the playing is what he said. I thought about why I love Christmas. Because of seeing his joy, eating good food, giving gifts I know people will love, the surprise, the tradition, the food that other people cooked, the snacks, the chocolate- back to topic- the warm cheeks by the fire, the happy music, the feeling of relaxation knowing that it's the beginning of vacation (now I'm fantasizing again). My point in my own head was that his perspective was still so shallow that, while he does appreciate all of those things, he still doesn't find them to be the defining moments of this special family holiday. He just likes the presents and toys and playing. And then the other part- how could he possibly compare my love for him to his love of Christmas? I told him that I loved him way more than I love Christmas but that still didn't seem to sway his opinions. I said, "Liam, you love Christmas way up into the sky, right? Well, I love you deep into the earth." He still didn't get it. Instead he giggled and we digressed into lists of what we loved about each other (with him copying most of what I said and/or stating things he saw in front of him like- as we pulled up to the basketball net in our driveway, "I love you because you let me play basketball").
     And the truth is, a love of a human being is far deeper than a love of a special day. And how long will it take for Liam to truly realize the depth of his feelings? And to gain perspective on musical preferences? I'm thinking that we have more hope for the latter and I'm also thinking of getting him some really good headphones for Christmas sometime before he turns 14.

Has Two Little Helpers

2010-09-28T17:36:00.000-07:00

     Here's a question? Why do I encourage my children to help out? We all know that it takes three times the amount of time to put the laundry away when you have to keep saying, "Put this in the sock drawer", "Put this in the underwear drawer", "Put this in the pants drawer, but not on top of the shorts, on the side where the rest of your pants are."  And the clothes always get unfolded to boot!
     In fact, I'm not sure why I even try cleaning at all (many of you may even assume that I don't clean if you happen to arrive at my house unannounced mid-week. Liam likes to help with the coffee tables so I on the rare occasions that I am actually able to clear off the table from all of the books, puzzles, socks, (my) schoolwork, mail, etc... I let him clean it off. He uses the (Simply Green) spray bottle to lather up the glass (mind you, this coffee table was bought before having kids- thus the glass insert). Then he uses a single piece of paper towel to soak it all up. Even Brawny isn't that absorbent. So he mops it all up, while splashing onto the carpet and surrounding furniture and then decides to do a second coat. Miraculously the stains tend to survive although very little Simply Green window cleaner is left in the bottle after a cleaning session.
     Tonight Joshua decided to help me cooking. Which is very nice because I have very poor time management skills in the kitchen and could use a little back-up support. Unfortunately Josh decided to help out with matters relating to the oven.  The oven was turned onto 400 degrees to roast tomatoes for a home-made sauce (can't help but brag- I made a home-made sauce with fresh tomatoes from scratch- unfortunately the allotted 1 1/2 hours was insufficient and at 7 pm I realized that I had forgotten to make the pasta or a meat). I looked behind me as I was chopping up the onions and saw that Joshua had on an oven mitt and was saying "hot hot hot hot..." and I thought that was awfully cute. I went back to chopping onions, got one of those strange motherly instincts, turned around and saw that Joshua was opening up the oven. It only opened up a crack but please do imagine my freak-out. In response, Joshua said "But I was using the hand with the oven mitt!" No, just kidding. Really, he's only 18 months old so in response he screamed and cried very loudly and refused to forgive me for saving his life for the next 30 minutes.
     I really should learn my lesson one of these days. After all, two little helpers and my big bad idea was what broke our vacuum cleaner (picture Liam vacuuming while Joshua sat on the canister; which was all sorts of fun until Liam had to pull the vacuum forward. This sounds very mischievous, doesn't it? Until I mention that this was my idea for a game to engage my two helpers. So it was all my fault).
     But I do think children helping is a rather good idea in theory. Since they were able to sit up, I've had them help put things away. Joshua throws his own binky into the crib or his bottle into the crib. I admit I've even had him throw away his own diapers before! Liam enjoys using the hose to water our plants in the front yard. And sometimes he even hits the plants with the water rather than flooding the driveway. And when all else fails and simple jobs take me three times as long, I always just remind myself about how appreciative Liam and Josh's future wives will be that I instilled some cleaning skills in my boys.