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.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
What Did You Have For Dinner?
Maybe you have that horrible memory tucked away. It's that time you threw up in public and barely just got over it now that you're an adult. Lo and behold, now you have children and they're here to remind you, throwing up in public sucks.
My memory of throwing up in public was as a little girl. It must have been winter because I was bundled up. We were at a pizza shop in my hometown. I can tell it's a little girl memory because the amount of puke I recall throwing up is completely and totally impossible. As I recall, it was a massive flood of throw up, luckily all over a wood floor (now that I'm an adult I can appreciate the fact that it wasn't carpeted).
Poor Joshua threw up at a parade. We just didn't see it coming... well except for the fact that he was very sleepy and said he had a belly ache. I just thought he didn't like the parade. But no, it was an actual stomach bug. In our defence, we were preparing to leave, but then he seemed to be happy again. He said he wasn't afraid of the parade anymore and squirmed to get out of the stroller. I sat him down on the curb and immediately knew I had misinterpreted his eagerness to get out. I cleaned up the street as best as I could as Bill tended to our poor misunderstood sweetie behind the crowd and lights. As I carried Joshua (wrapped in a blanket) to the car, I couldn't help but feel just miserable for the little guy. The loud honking, bright lights, blaring music and not to mention the crowds. Plus we weren't exactly close to home and we were facing some serious traffic.
You think I would have learned from my experience as a mom before Joshua came along. We did have Liam after all. I don't recall many specific throw up incidents but neither Bill or I will ever forget the time we took hm out to eat at a decent family restaurant. Seriously, we barely ever left the house and we just wanted a sense of normalcy out to eat with our small family of three. We will never quite know if Liam threw up because he hated the mashed potatoes we fed him or if he now hates mashed potatoes because they made him throw up. But what we do know (in retrospect) is that we should have listened when we put the spoonful in front of him and he shook his head no. We should have listened.
Now I have seen worse cases. After teaching for several years some of the names and faces are starting to blur together. I don't remember which of my boy students was the one to throw up in the garbage can, but I certainly do distinctly remember the face & name of the girl who threw up in her desk (yes, in her desk).
I suppose on the bright side is that now my boys know a little bit better. They know perhaps to face away from the crowd, or under the table. The other bright side is that both incidents occurred before they really knew any better to be embarrassed, unlike a poor 4th Grader . Perhaps the incidents won't scar them for life. On the other hand... I still shudder when I'm back home passing by that pizza shop and Liam still hates mashed potatoes. I wonder what Joshua will say next time we ask him if he wants to go see a parade...
My memory of throwing up in public was as a little girl. It must have been winter because I was bundled up. We were at a pizza shop in my hometown. I can tell it's a little girl memory because the amount of puke I recall throwing up is completely and totally impossible. As I recall, it was a massive flood of throw up, luckily all over a wood floor (now that I'm an adult I can appreciate the fact that it wasn't carpeted).
Poor Joshua threw up at a parade. We just didn't see it coming... well except for the fact that he was very sleepy and said he had a belly ache. I just thought he didn't like the parade. But no, it was an actual stomach bug. In our defence, we were preparing to leave, but then he seemed to be happy again. He said he wasn't afraid of the parade anymore and squirmed to get out of the stroller. I sat him down on the curb and immediately knew I had misinterpreted his eagerness to get out. I cleaned up the street as best as I could as Bill tended to our poor misunderstood sweetie behind the crowd and lights. As I carried Joshua (wrapped in a blanket) to the car, I couldn't help but feel just miserable for the little guy. The loud honking, bright lights, blaring music and not to mention the crowds. Plus we weren't exactly close to home and we were facing some serious traffic.
You think I would have learned from my experience as a mom before Joshua came along. We did have Liam after all. I don't recall many specific throw up incidents but neither Bill or I will ever forget the time we took hm out to eat at a decent family restaurant. Seriously, we barely ever left the house and we just wanted a sense of normalcy out to eat with our small family of three. We will never quite know if Liam threw up because he hated the mashed potatoes we fed him or if he now hates mashed potatoes because they made him throw up. But what we do know (in retrospect) is that we should have listened when we put the spoonful in front of him and he shook his head no. We should have listened.
Now I have seen worse cases. After teaching for several years some of the names and faces are starting to blur together. I don't remember which of my boy students was the one to throw up in the garbage can, but I certainly do distinctly remember the face & name of the girl who threw up in her desk (yes, in her desk).
I suppose on the bright side is that now my boys know a little bit better. They know perhaps to face away from the crowd, or under the table. The other bright side is that both incidents occurred before they really knew any better to be embarrassed, unlike a poor 4th Grader . Perhaps the incidents won't scar them for life. On the other hand... I still shudder when I'm back home passing by that pizza shop and Liam still hates mashed potatoes. I wonder what Joshua will say next time we ask him if he wants to go see a parade...
Friday, November 11, 2011
The Truth About Lying
I'm a liar. Or rather an "omitter of truths" but really, doesn't that actually just mean... I'm a liar? Last night I gave Liam milk with his dinner. It was 1%. We usually get 2% but an unfortunate misunderstanding led to lower fat content (otherwise known as watery milk). Last night we bought the right milk but that still left us with a jug of the skim. Blech. So I did what any other responsible parent would do, I served the skim to Liam without telling him. Now I could spin this by saying it's better for him anyway and he needs to acquire a taste for skim at an early age (unlike his mother and father). But then again, that would be being dishonest to you too. Really I gave Liam the skim because I know we hate the skim but I also hate to waste so someone's got to drink it.
It's not as though this has never happened before, there was the time I gave Liam and Josh the shredded wheat squares instead of the frosted mini wheats (notice the omission of "frosted"). They said they didn't like it because the squares were different sizes... but I knew the truth; that their new mini wheats were lacking that sweet crusty frosting. This morning for breakfast I saw that half full box of shredded mini wheats and decided to try some myself... I regretted my choice immediately. Who ever ate shredded wheat without the frosting (answer: me when I was about 5 years old because my parents tortured me with sugar free cereals and apple juice made in a blender)? And how could they cope with such a tasteless cereal (answer: by pouring on cups of pure sugar and justifying it by saying that real sugar is better than crusty processed cereal frosting).
Lying really is a part of parenting, or rather, omitting the truth is. What do we say when a 5 year old asks how the baby gets into the womb, for example? Well, when confronted with this question I was able to get as far as "the daddy has a sperm and the mommy has an egg" and when they come together, it makes a baby. I was proud of myself for being so honest... until Liam asked how the sperm got inside of the mommy. That's when I decided to omit the rest of the truth (and run away).
Liam brought home a library book called "Benno and the Night of the Broken Glass". I knew as soon as I opened it and read the setting (Berlin, Germany) that this wouldn't be good. It was a book about Kristallnacht (the Night of Broken Glass) from the perspective of a cat. Did I really want to start into a conversation about the holocaust with a 5 year old? Did I want to start that conversation from the perspective of a cat? For the first time when reading a bedtime story to Liam, I found myself reading him a story without a happy ending. There was no way to spin it really except to stop reading, which he didn't want me to do. I think he thought it would all end happily, how could I tell him that after the last page of this book, things actually got so much worse? I've described September 11th before to Liam. Some people might find it hard to describe that event to their children, but I think I did okay. I told him about a group of people called terrorists who wanted to make people in America sad and how they really did smash down buildings. I told him it made everybody very sad.
So what should we honestly tell our children? Should we tell them the truth about marriage equality when they say "only men and women can get married" or should we just smile when a 4 year old tells us that he wants to marry his best friend (also a boy)? Should we tell them the full truth about cigarettes- yes, they cause cancer but they also fell good so sometimes you might see daddy smoking one. Should you have to confess if you take a piece of candy from their jack-o-lanterns after they go to bed? Or what if they notice that Daddy never gets peas on his plate, should you tell them that he hates them, thus risking that they will start to hate peas too? You just never know when you will be confronted with a situation that demands some level of truth. Then the question becomes, not how much of a lie will they buy into, but how much truth can you omit? Yet beware, what you omit today will need to be explained another day. Maybe at bedtime, or at a family party or on a long car ride one afternoon.
It's not as though this has never happened before, there was the time I gave Liam and Josh the shredded wheat squares instead of the frosted mini wheats (notice the omission of "frosted"). They said they didn't like it because the squares were different sizes... but I knew the truth; that their new mini wheats were lacking that sweet crusty frosting. This morning for breakfast I saw that half full box of shredded mini wheats and decided to try some myself... I regretted my choice immediately. Who ever ate shredded wheat without the frosting (answer: me when I was about 5 years old because my parents tortured me with sugar free cereals and apple juice made in a blender)? And how could they cope with such a tasteless cereal (answer: by pouring on cups of pure sugar and justifying it by saying that real sugar is better than crusty processed cereal frosting).
Lying really is a part of parenting, or rather, omitting the truth is. What do we say when a 5 year old asks how the baby gets into the womb, for example? Well, when confronted with this question I was able to get as far as "the daddy has a sperm and the mommy has an egg" and when they come together, it makes a baby. I was proud of myself for being so honest... until Liam asked how the sperm got inside of the mommy. That's when I decided to omit the rest of the truth (and run away).
Liam brought home a library book called "Benno and the Night of the Broken Glass". I knew as soon as I opened it and read the setting (Berlin, Germany) that this wouldn't be good. It was a book about Kristallnacht (the Night of Broken Glass) from the perspective of a cat. Did I really want to start into a conversation about the holocaust with a 5 year old? Did I want to start that conversation from the perspective of a cat? For the first time when reading a bedtime story to Liam, I found myself reading him a story without a happy ending. There was no way to spin it really except to stop reading, which he didn't want me to do. I think he thought it would all end happily, how could I tell him that after the last page of this book, things actually got so much worse? I've described September 11th before to Liam. Some people might find it hard to describe that event to their children, but I think I did okay. I told him about a group of people called terrorists who wanted to make people in America sad and how they really did smash down buildings. I told him it made everybody very sad.
So what should we honestly tell our children? Should we tell them the truth about marriage equality when they say "only men and women can get married" or should we just smile when a 4 year old tells us that he wants to marry his best friend (also a boy)? Should we tell them the full truth about cigarettes- yes, they cause cancer but they also fell good so sometimes you might see daddy smoking one. Should you have to confess if you take a piece of candy from their jack-o-lanterns after they go to bed? Or what if they notice that Daddy never gets peas on his plate, should you tell them that he hates them, thus risking that they will start to hate peas too? You just never know when you will be confronted with a situation that demands some level of truth. Then the question becomes, not how much of a lie will they buy into, but how much truth can you omit? Yet beware, what you omit today will need to be explained another day. Maybe at bedtime, or at a family party or on a long car ride one afternoon.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
How to Make a Haunted House
First you must selectively clean. Pick up anything that is not spooky- like Hungry Hungry Hippo and all of those Melissa & Doug wooden puzzles. Put anything that has potential to be be spooky in a big heaping pile. Be creative with these selections. For example, a cute Raggedy Anne doll can be stuffed into a drawer with her limp hand hanging out. Finally, don't vacuum up the cobwebs that have been collecting along the ceiling in the family room all of these months. Do vacuum up those stupid pink and blue game-of-Life people (they should know better than to venture out of their box anyway). Do vacuum up candy wrappers left from Christmas morning under the couches.
Now that you have cleaned selectively, it's time to create some spooky magic. It may not look spooky at first but part of that is simply covering up. I covered up the play kitchen and even put a curtain in front of our board games and toy shelf. Who needs to see all that cute stuff when you're getting spooked? In fact, get rid of all the family photos too... unless you have photos of ancestors you've never met... chances are those will be black and white and potentially the most scary thing you could put in your haunted house anyway (didn't those people know how to smile)? Cover up mundane things like televisions and coffee tables. Chances are the cobwebs that you have been "saving" won't be sufficient so you will next need to cover walls with as much cobwebs as you can. This is one case where having popcorn ceilings or walls (what were they thinking?) actually comes in handy- no tape needed.
Do not underestimate the need for a tunnel. You must have a tunnel. Last year we used those cute crawl through tunnels that you buy in a store but this year we were afraid of impaling our children since the circular metal pieces started coming loose and sticking out at the entrance and exits. If you are like me and have a hazardous tube or no tubes at all, use blankets liberally to create a tunnel. I've got our blankets crammed between couch cushions and in the coffee table. You don't have to end there with a tunnel. I put yoga mats down for that icky sticky texture (and so I could have an excuse not to do yoga for two weeks while the mats were in use... genius). Under the mats I randomly put pillows to create "hills" in the tunnel. We all have vibrating foot massagers that we've gotten for Christmas. I have a flat one that heats up and glows red. I stuck it under a yoga mat thus creating a spooky red glow in the tunnel, a vibrating yoga mat and a fire hazard all in one! That's what makes a tunnel special; creativity. I'm just hoping we never forget to unplug it after a haunted house showing.
Accessories are next and I suggest spending $100 at your local party store on scary lights, dolls and decorations. Just kidding. In our spooky scary haunted house we have fierce looking toy dinosaurs, Liam's Batman cave (with accessories) and The Ghost Train. Ah yes, The Ghost Train. See, the more we spend on Thomas train sets, the less the boys actually like Thomas train sets and over the years, we have accumulated quite a bit of wooden and plastic train tracks, trains, etc... I am always looking for a good excuse to force the boys to play with these things. The Ghost Train is an excellent opportunity. We used the plastic Trackmaster so the trains could run eerie on their own around the track. With some cut-out ghosts and rubber spiders you can turn your train set into... The Ghost Train! Hmmm... it just occurred to me that parents of girls may have a hard time with this haunted house thing. I've seen some of those girl toys... you may have to be more creative like a spider infested Barbie Dream House or a gross-out play kitchen with bat soup and snake cake. The other advantage to using toys as accessories is that your haunted house is small so it will only take about 5 minutes for kids to get through it. With other toys, they will keep busy longer.
Here's another way to weasel out free or cheap decorations for your haunted house: Christmas garlands and toilet paper from the ceiling! I added a small fan in the corner to make the garlands sway a bit. Also feel free to use any odd decorations you have around the house that don't match with the nicer decorations you own (ex: random needlepoint ghosts, wooden figurines you never had time to paint, etc...).
Set the mood with lighting and horrible sounding music. A strobe light works great for a spooky effect but that won't be enough light for the kids to see all of the detailed work you put into the haunted house. You will also need to give each child a flashlight or one of those headlamps. For spooky music you can use a CD or the spooky Halloween music channel on TV (cover the TV to create an eerie glow). Also add musical instruments to your haunted house for that horrible sounding music I mentioned. A mini-piano, keyboard or xylophone will do the trick along with a drum and maybe even an annoying whistle... okay never mind with the annoying whistle, the piano will suffice.
We made our haunted house this weekend and the boys have spent each evening down there playing. They play with lights on or off, they fine tune their creation, reposing the dinosaurs so that they each have a turn getting eaten by the big one. They play their music and crawl through the tunnel. I was really cranky when we set it up. "Why won't anyone help me?", "Stop stepping on the tunnel", "Where are all the Batman toys?", "Could you just help me with this cobweb?" and then I realized, wow setting up this haunted house is a lot like setting up the Christmas tree... the set-up is part of the tradition and the holiday spirit. So what if it's all that work for only a couple of weeks and so what if not many people see it, it's offered endless entertainment and something a bit out of the ordinary for the kids for a short time during the year. Pretty soon the haunted house will be all packed up and in its place that Christmas tree. The garlands will be re-purposed on the mantle and who knows? Maybe I'll even set up the Thomas train in a little winter wonderland scene
Now that you have cleaned selectively, it's time to create some spooky magic. It may not look spooky at first but part of that is simply covering up. I covered up the play kitchen and even put a curtain in front of our board games and toy shelf. Who needs to see all that cute stuff when you're getting spooked? In fact, get rid of all the family photos too... unless you have photos of ancestors you've never met... chances are those will be black and white and potentially the most scary thing you could put in your haunted house anyway (didn't those people know how to smile)? Cover up mundane things like televisions and coffee tables. Chances are the cobwebs that you have been "saving" won't be sufficient so you will next need to cover walls with as much cobwebs as you can. This is one case where having popcorn ceilings or walls (what were they thinking?) actually comes in handy- no tape needed.
Do not underestimate the need for a tunnel. You must have a tunnel. Last year we used those cute crawl through tunnels that you buy in a store but this year we were afraid of impaling our children since the circular metal pieces started coming loose and sticking out at the entrance and exits. If you are like me and have a hazardous tube or no tubes at all, use blankets liberally to create a tunnel. I've got our blankets crammed between couch cushions and in the coffee table. You don't have to end there with a tunnel. I put yoga mats down for that icky sticky texture (and so I could have an excuse not to do yoga for two weeks while the mats were in use... genius). Under the mats I randomly put pillows to create "hills" in the tunnel. We all have vibrating foot massagers that we've gotten for Christmas. I have a flat one that heats up and glows red. I stuck it under a yoga mat thus creating a spooky red glow in the tunnel, a vibrating yoga mat and a fire hazard all in one! That's what makes a tunnel special; creativity. I'm just hoping we never forget to unplug it after a haunted house showing.
Accessories are next and I suggest spending $100 at your local party store on scary lights, dolls and decorations. Just kidding. In our spooky scary haunted house we have fierce looking toy dinosaurs, Liam's Batman cave (with accessories) and The Ghost Train. Ah yes, The Ghost Train. See, the more we spend on Thomas train sets, the less the boys actually like Thomas train sets and over the years, we have accumulated quite a bit of wooden and plastic train tracks, trains, etc... I am always looking for a good excuse to force the boys to play with these things. The Ghost Train is an excellent opportunity. We used the plastic Trackmaster so the trains could run eerie on their own around the track. With some cut-out ghosts and rubber spiders you can turn your train set into... The Ghost Train! Hmmm... it just occurred to me that parents of girls may have a hard time with this haunted house thing. I've seen some of those girl toys... you may have to be more creative like a spider infested Barbie Dream House or a gross-out play kitchen with bat soup and snake cake. The other advantage to using toys as accessories is that your haunted house is small so it will only take about 5 minutes for kids to get through it. With other toys, they will keep busy longer.
Here's another way to weasel out free or cheap decorations for your haunted house: Christmas garlands and toilet paper from the ceiling! I added a small fan in the corner to make the garlands sway a bit. Also feel free to use any odd decorations you have around the house that don't match with the nicer decorations you own (ex: random needlepoint ghosts, wooden figurines you never had time to paint, etc...).
Set the mood with lighting and horrible sounding music. A strobe light works great for a spooky effect but that won't be enough light for the kids to see all of the detailed work you put into the haunted house. You will also need to give each child a flashlight or one of those headlamps. For spooky music you can use a CD or the spooky Halloween music channel on TV (cover the TV to create an eerie glow). Also add musical instruments to your haunted house for that horrible sounding music I mentioned. A mini-piano, keyboard or xylophone will do the trick along with a drum and maybe even an annoying whistle... okay never mind with the annoying whistle, the piano will suffice.
We made our haunted house this weekend and the boys have spent each evening down there playing. They play with lights on or off, they fine tune their creation, reposing the dinosaurs so that they each have a turn getting eaten by the big one. They play their music and crawl through the tunnel. I was really cranky when we set it up. "Why won't anyone help me?", "Stop stepping on the tunnel", "Where are all the Batman toys?", "Could you just help me with this cobweb?" and then I realized, wow setting up this haunted house is a lot like setting up the Christmas tree... the set-up is part of the tradition and the holiday spirit. So what if it's all that work for only a couple of weeks and so what if not many people see it, it's offered endless entertainment and something a bit out of the ordinary for the kids for a short time during the year. Pretty soon the haunted house will be all packed up and in its place that Christmas tree. The garlands will be re-purposed on the mantle and who knows? Maybe I'll even set up the Thomas train in a little winter wonderland scene
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Clothes Karma
I don't deserve nice pants. It's a fact and I've had to learn that the hard way. Last year my sister, Lori, got me Ann Taylor pants... and they were pink. At first I wondered what I would wear with pink pants and then I discovered a world of brown and white tops that coordinated perfectly especially when paired with a delicate scarf that tied all of the colors together. Sigh. I was in love.
See, we don't often get nice things for ourselves, now do we. You can spend top dollar on a new dining room table but... in a few months it's going to be all scratched up. Clothes are even more subject to wear and tear and there is just no avoiding it.
After I got my pink pants I became inspired to keep shopping. So 8 months later I went out to spend my left over Christmas money (4 months after Christmas). This time I was spending my own money so I stuck to the discount stores but quickly became frustrated. Then I discovered... Target. Oooh. The clothes were super cool and they looked so much like those designer clothes. What I loved the most was the fact that I didn't have to go searching through racks and racks of clothes with a crazy variety of incorrectly labeled pants. I mean, Target is super fancy. The slacks are hanging with the slacks, capris with the capris and jeans with the jeans. Different colors were even hanging separately. This was terrific news because I was running low on time for my mommy-shopping-night. On a side note- I hear these stories about kids getting lost in clothing racks, I've been there- both as the kid inside the rack and as a mom trying to pull the kid out. Based on actual experiences I've come to the conclusion that there is no way I will leave the store with the right pair of jeans if I am shopping with children... so it's best to leave them at home in front of a television set (just kidding, Bill plans enriching activities for them while I'm gone). I left Target with a cute t-shirt, a pair of capris and a new pair of black ballet flats. They had a distinctively cheap black plastic finish on them but they were very cute. So what if they didn't come with a shoe box and they were instead held together by an elastic band.
It didn't take long for me to see the error in my ways. The hem came loose immediately on my new capris so that they kind of could pass as pirate pants. By mid-summer I realized the shoes were embarrasingly cheap. The plastic actually started peeling off of the shoe. Here's the thing about the shoes though- they actually cost $20. Now this is cheap if you're comparing the cost to real fancy shoes but I'm used to shopping at those discount stores where $20 can actually buy you a pair of last season's fancy shoes. I'm actually a fairly smart shopper, I do keep a look out for good deals on specific brands so imagine my frustration when I try to save time by spending only slightly less on a pair of trendy Target shoes and... peeling pleather.
I put my Target shopping experience aside and moved on to summer garage sales :) I will not disclose what I actually purchased at garage sales but next time you see me in a nice sweater think... could that be the sweater she picked up for a buck or was it the one she wore yesterday (or both?). The beginning of the school year started and with it, every teacher's favorite part of starting the school year: chalk, dry erase markers and trying to get glue out of the glue containers.
I don't know how it happened. I don't know why it had to be the blue marker and I certainly don't know why I had chosen to wear the pink pants to school that day, but somehow I ended up with a small dot of dry erase marker on my pink Ann Taylor pants. They weren't the Target capris, mind you. They were the pink Ann Taylor pants. I tried to apply and reapply water and soap throughout the day hoping to coax the stain out but apparently (a) dry erase markers are unwashable and (b) everyone at work thought I looked funny with a big water spot on my pants all day.
"Oh,"said my sympathetic sister, "those were probably the only pants you owned that were bought at full price." Well, to be fair, I did pay full price for the Target capris.
It wasn't long after that Bill and I went out to fancy Chinese restaurant... you know, those places that actually give you plates have soy sauce in a glass pitcher at the table. Real fancy- I had a coupon. After dinner we had a little bit of time to kill since the kids were happy at home without us, with their grandmother & great-grandmother. It was then that I discovered... the outlet store. I've been to outlet stores... but this outlet store was having a super sale (it said so in the window). "Maybe they'll have pink pants!" I said to Bill. And, because Bill would like nothing more than to go shopping with me on our regularly scheduled (once-every-two-and-a-half-month-date-night), he agreed.
I walked out 45 minutes later with a bag containing 3 pairs of pants. I had spent $33. The total value of all pants (based on original prices) was over $250. Perhaps most importantly, one of the pairs of pants was a lovely lavendar color. Perfect with brown and white and, miraculously, still able to be worn with that delicate scarf to tie all of the colors together. And while I did love those full price Ann Taylor pants, I couldn't help but love my new lavendar pants just as much... and maybe more because they only cost $3.40 (originally $79.99).
See, we don't often get nice things for ourselves, now do we. You can spend top dollar on a new dining room table but... in a few months it's going to be all scratched up. Clothes are even more subject to wear and tear and there is just no avoiding it.
After I got my pink pants I became inspired to keep shopping. So 8 months later I went out to spend my left over Christmas money (4 months after Christmas). This time I was spending my own money so I stuck to the discount stores but quickly became frustrated. Then I discovered... Target. Oooh. The clothes were super cool and they looked so much like those designer clothes. What I loved the most was the fact that I didn't have to go searching through racks and racks of clothes with a crazy variety of incorrectly labeled pants. I mean, Target is super fancy. The slacks are hanging with the slacks, capris with the capris and jeans with the jeans. Different colors were even hanging separately. This was terrific news because I was running low on time for my mommy-shopping-night. On a side note- I hear these stories about kids getting lost in clothing racks, I've been there- both as the kid inside the rack and as a mom trying to pull the kid out. Based on actual experiences I've come to the conclusion that there is no way I will leave the store with the right pair of jeans if I am shopping with children... so it's best to leave them at home in front of a television set (just kidding, Bill plans enriching activities for them while I'm gone). I left Target with a cute t-shirt, a pair of capris and a new pair of black ballet flats. They had a distinctively cheap black plastic finish on them but they were very cute. So what if they didn't come with a shoe box and they were instead held together by an elastic band.
It didn't take long for me to see the error in my ways. The hem came loose immediately on my new capris so that they kind of could pass as pirate pants. By mid-summer I realized the shoes were embarrasingly cheap. The plastic actually started peeling off of the shoe. Here's the thing about the shoes though- they actually cost $20. Now this is cheap if you're comparing the cost to real fancy shoes but I'm used to shopping at those discount stores where $20 can actually buy you a pair of last season's fancy shoes. I'm actually a fairly smart shopper, I do keep a look out for good deals on specific brands so imagine my frustration when I try to save time by spending only slightly less on a pair of trendy Target shoes and... peeling pleather.
I put my Target shopping experience aside and moved on to summer garage sales :) I will not disclose what I actually purchased at garage sales but next time you see me in a nice sweater think... could that be the sweater she picked up for a buck or was it the one she wore yesterday (or both?). The beginning of the school year started and with it, every teacher's favorite part of starting the school year: chalk, dry erase markers and trying to get glue out of the glue containers.
I don't know how it happened. I don't know why it had to be the blue marker and I certainly don't know why I had chosen to wear the pink pants to school that day, but somehow I ended up with a small dot of dry erase marker on my pink Ann Taylor pants. They weren't the Target capris, mind you. They were the pink Ann Taylor pants. I tried to apply and reapply water and soap throughout the day hoping to coax the stain out but apparently (a) dry erase markers are unwashable and (b) everyone at work thought I looked funny with a big water spot on my pants all day.
"Oh,"said my sympathetic sister, "those were probably the only pants you owned that were bought at full price." Well, to be fair, I did pay full price for the Target capris.
It wasn't long after that Bill and I went out to fancy Chinese restaurant... you know, those places that actually give you plates have soy sauce in a glass pitcher at the table. Real fancy- I had a coupon. After dinner we had a little bit of time to kill since the kids were happy at home without us, with their grandmother & great-grandmother. It was then that I discovered... the outlet store. I've been to outlet stores... but this outlet store was having a super sale (it said so in the window). "Maybe they'll have pink pants!" I said to Bill. And, because Bill would like nothing more than to go shopping with me on our regularly scheduled (once-every-two-and-a-half-month-date-night), he agreed.
I walked out 45 minutes later with a bag containing 3 pairs of pants. I had spent $33. The total value of all pants (based on original prices) was over $250. Perhaps most importantly, one of the pairs of pants was a lovely lavendar color. Perfect with brown and white and, miraculously, still able to be worn with that delicate scarf to tie all of the colors together. And while I did love those full price Ann Taylor pants, I couldn't help but love my new lavendar pants just as much... and maybe more because they only cost $3.40 (originally $79.99).
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Worst Best Mom: Revisited... Again
Perhaps some of you may be thinking that I am a candidate for the Best-of-the-Best Mom list but I assure you, my position of worst of the best must stand. True, I do help Liam with science experiments and true, I do stand behind Joshua any time he climbs up a steep playground ladder. These things alone may make you inclined to think I'm simply the best at what I do. However, I have evidence to the contrary that proves without a sliver of a doubt that I'm not too great at being a good mom. Here is what I've come up with so far...
1) I missed Liam's first picture day... his KINDERGARTEN picture day. I know the picture will come out bad, with him pressing his lip back into a false lipless grin... but that's a picture I just want to treasure. Plus I know he was looking forward to wearing his new shirt and tie so I kind of feel bad for that too. Now he'll have to dress up on a day that no one else is dressed up and there's a serious chance that he'll look ridiculous and/or will get paint on his tie because inevitably it will end up being an Art day.
2) Tonight at dinner I accidentally served both boys rotten applesauce. To be fair, it wasn't moldy or anything but after they had both finished their first serving and were begging for more I realized there was an overpowering scent of fermented apple sauce in the air. Gross.
3) Tonight at bed time I accidentally scratched Liam under his eye with my thumb nail. I had bitten off my right hand's thumb nail earlier this week so imagine my surprise when the left thumb nail, still razor sharp and long (but not in a pretty long-nail way), ended up somehow gouging my poor child under his eyeball. And now he's bleeding!
4) I'm considering not getting my kids flu shots this year.
5) I'm considering getting my kids flu shots this year.
6) The other day when I was trying not to yell at Liam for poor behavior in school, I ended up blurting out, "Well everytime you get in the red zone, you miss part of your playtime and that sounds pretty stupid." To which Liam responded, "What's stupid?" What I should have said was: "Your mother." What I ended up saying was, "Stupid is making bad choices." Not really correct, actually it's a pretty stupid definition... of stupid.
7) I bought Liam and Joshua light sabres but didn't really want any play fighting going on. Hmmm... can you say, "Stupid mom"?
8) Sometimes (lots of times) Liam leaves the house without brushing his teeth. I know, gross right?
9) I don't let my kids win at games. We played Uno Moo last night as a family (really cute) and I didn't let my kids win. Full disclosure: they won anyway, but they won fair and square. Liam has been playing tic-tac-toe the last few nights and I have won almost every round... until finally I lost a round. I'd like to think this made him feel good about himself, that he finally won the behemoth... or maybe I just don't like to lose?
10) Quite often at night, after the children have gone to bed, I make their favorite snack... popcorn... but eat the whole bowl myself. I have an air popper. Maybe I'll pop some for myself right now and throw in a few extra kernals for the kids' snack tomorrow. Maybe.
1) I missed Liam's first picture day... his KINDERGARTEN picture day. I know the picture will come out bad, with him pressing his lip back into a false lipless grin... but that's a picture I just want to treasure. Plus I know he was looking forward to wearing his new shirt and tie so I kind of feel bad for that too. Now he'll have to dress up on a day that no one else is dressed up and there's a serious chance that he'll look ridiculous and/or will get paint on his tie because inevitably it will end up being an Art day.
2) Tonight at dinner I accidentally served both boys rotten applesauce. To be fair, it wasn't moldy or anything but after they had both finished their first serving and were begging for more I realized there was an overpowering scent of fermented apple sauce in the air. Gross.
3) Tonight at bed time I accidentally scratched Liam under his eye with my thumb nail. I had bitten off my right hand's thumb nail earlier this week so imagine my surprise when the left thumb nail, still razor sharp and long (but not in a pretty long-nail way), ended up somehow gouging my poor child under his eyeball. And now he's bleeding!
4) I'm considering not getting my kids flu shots this year.
5) I'm considering getting my kids flu shots this year.
6) The other day when I was trying not to yell at Liam for poor behavior in school, I ended up blurting out, "Well everytime you get in the red zone, you miss part of your playtime and that sounds pretty stupid." To which Liam responded, "What's stupid?" What I should have said was: "Your mother." What I ended up saying was, "Stupid is making bad choices." Not really correct, actually it's a pretty stupid definition... of stupid.
7) I bought Liam and Joshua light sabres but didn't really want any play fighting going on. Hmmm... can you say, "Stupid mom"?
8) Sometimes (lots of times) Liam leaves the house without brushing his teeth. I know, gross right?
9) I don't let my kids win at games. We played Uno Moo last night as a family (really cute) and I didn't let my kids win. Full disclosure: they won anyway, but they won fair and square. Liam has been playing tic-tac-toe the last few nights and I have won almost every round... until finally I lost a round. I'd like to think this made him feel good about himself, that he finally won the behemoth... or maybe I just don't like to lose?
10) Quite often at night, after the children have gone to bed, I make their favorite snack... popcorn... but eat the whole bowl myself. I have an air popper. Maybe I'll pop some for myself right now and throw in a few extra kernals for the kids' snack tomorrow. Maybe.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Terrible Toilet Talk
We have been horribly disgusting in our house. We talk about poopy and wee wee and all sorts of bad stuff. But in our defence, it is a hot topic for a reason. First of all, we're in the battle of a lifetime with Joshua who has no interest in continuing his basic potty training. Second, Liam has started a new craze. He loves it when we read him Captain Underpants by Dav Pilkey. We started with #2 Attack of the Talking Toilets and now we've back-tracked to the first book in the series. The premise is that there are two misfit elementary school boys with no conscious (either of them) but shockingly intelligent senses of humor. These two kids would do great on the show Jack-Ass- that is making up the stunts and then getting out of the way while the stars do inflict pain on themselves. And really, since they're fictional children I really can say they are Jack-Asses. They pull pranks like putting pepper in the cheerleader's pom poms and somehow persuading cafeteria ladies to mix baking soda and vinegar to make cupcakes (kind of far fetched to assume lunch ladies don't know enough about cooking to catch that error... or is it?). Anyway, they also know how to write and illustrate- now that is something that as an educator I can appreciate :) . So they write comics about Captain Underpants a superhero in tighty whities. Next we're moving on to The Wicked Wedgie Woman and eventually we'll get to the much anticipated... Professor Poopypants.
Now I've been calling both of my boys "Professor Poopypants" for as long as they've been pooping and insisting that I be the one to clean it up. But up until now it has had little significance. Still, to be honest, I doubt they know what the "professor" in "Professor Poopypants" means, except that it sounds ridiculous... and gross.
Recently the boys have been alternating in their inability to look at a camera and smile. Liam will look and then roll back his upper lip to reveal only teeth in a freakish jack-o-lantern smile but then Josh will turn his head and say something like "Roar!" instead of looking at the camera. Or Josh will look at the camera with a mope and Liam will whip his head with his eyes closed. So if I really do want them both looking and giving me an actual smile, I must resort to "Professor Poopypants" and thus far, the trick hasn't failed me. Embarrassed me in public, yes, but failed me, no. And once the pictures are developed, who cares if there's someone in the background of the shot giving us a dirty look? More times than not, they're actually giggling too because there are very few people who can hear "Professor Poopypants" and not crack at least a little smile (try it, I dare you).
Is this acceptable in public? I mean, can kids talk about poopypants, diapers, farts and peeing at a place such as a dinner table? Or perhaps a better question, is there really any better place to talk of such things? Now that I recall, Bill and his brothers have been grossing out guests at their family Thanksgiving table looong before any babies were born. So perhaps it shouldn't surprise me now that all Liam & Joshua and their friends want to talk about at the table is... poopypants, diapers, farts and peeing or variations thereof. Also, apparently it's not enough to say these things, you must say them loudly so everyone can hear and then laugh so hard they snort milk out of their noses. So here's my take on this... I've found that some of my personal philosophy has become more malleable (translate: picking battles which can be translated into: being lazy)... it depends on the company? The first time "pooping" was brought up at a playdate, I did suggest that it wasn't a great topic but ... eventually I let it go because everyone else was. So now that's the hot topic at playdates because apparently if any one of us decided to stick their their original philosophy of no potty talk at the table, they gave up like me (resistance is futile!). But if poopytalk were to occur in other circles... eh, we'd probably have to put the kabosh in it, which would be no fun at all.
But back to pooping. Here's a tip for all you parents of kids with diapers: If you're kid is walking around like he/she has a wedgie, he/she may actually have a wedgie and you may want to take care of the "problem" before the poopsplosion comes (I made that word up, it's not from Captain U, I swear. I doubt a real author would be able to make up a word with 4 consonants in a row anyway). My sister was lamenting that she had no other option but to change her one year old baby on a public restroom changing table. We were at a fancy resort. She was staying overnight but her room wasn't ready (thus the unfortunate changing table) and I was just visiting for lunch which is my way of hanging out with the fancypantses even though I can't afford to spend the night! At any rate, after she fussed over the germs on the surface, using a changing pad from home and a few paper towels for a pillow, I washed off those little fingers with an extra wipey and he was on his way. Then it was Joshua's turn. He was plopped down bare-assedWhatevs. Unscathed, we walked back to the rest of our party down a long hallway, stopping to look at a nature exhibit and peek into the library (my sister needed a private place to nurse later on since the room wasn't ready). That's when we noticed how silly he was walking down the hallway "like he had a wedgie". Yeah, he actually did have a wedgie. Big mistake... BIG mistake.
After a lovely afternoon mini putt-putting (that has nothing to do with pooping, we were actually golfing), walking in the gardens, feeding the fishies, sipping tea and perusing the gift shop I realized that Joshua was a little stinker. Really, a little stinker. So I exited with Josh as Liam went down to feed more fish. Carrying Joshua down to the bathroom, I realized there was some leakage. This wasn't good. His other pants were parked in the car- not close by (too cheap for valet). Hmmmm... Back to the bathroom with the changing table with no changing pad. Poopsplosion. And why? Because the diaper was only covering one of his cheeks.
You know how it always happens; you go into a perfectly empty space to do something private and then people end up being right there, flocking to the exact location where you are trying to complete your private deed? Well, there I was with a disgusting diaper... an external disgusting diaper mess... and suddenly there was someone sitting right behind me in a chair behind the changing table (I could have sat in her lap) and masses of people overtook the sinks... those sinks with precious water and soap and paper towels that I needed. Did I mention I had no cell phone? Did I mention my little professor poopypants over here thought the whole thing was hilarious and was kicking his legs and wiggling his butt to and fro?
I got rid of the evidence like a pro, forced a diaper on Joshua, wiped down the changing table and plopped him down in the chair that the lady had apparently gotten up from (what better hint do you need then someone's ass in your face and a stink of poop wafting at you head on?). I set to work at Joshua's pants with some wet paper towels and soap but we all know it was a cob job, the best I could do in the situation. I can decisively say we both washed our hands thoroughly this time! Nonchalantly we set back out into the fancy hotel, Joshua with a wet pants butt that he couldn't feel (thanks to his fresh new diaper), me with frizzed out hair and the appearance of someone who was thoroughly defeated. We walked atop the beautiful Victorian carpet past the detailed wood-work, the luxuriously padded furniture, the classical music drifting through the air... and it was time to go home.
My sister walked us to the car and when we got there, I gave her the best advice that I could ever really offer her... "On second thought, don't use those restroom changing tables after all."
Now I've been calling both of my boys "Professor Poopypants" for as long as they've been pooping and insisting that I be the one to clean it up. But up until now it has had little significance. Still, to be honest, I doubt they know what the "professor" in "Professor Poopypants" means, except that it sounds ridiculous... and gross.
Recently the boys have been alternating in their inability to look at a camera and smile. Liam will look and then roll back his upper lip to reveal only teeth in a freakish jack-o-lantern smile but then Josh will turn his head and say something like "Roar!" instead of looking at the camera. Or Josh will look at the camera with a mope and Liam will whip his head with his eyes closed. So if I really do want them both looking and giving me an actual smile, I must resort to "Professor Poopypants" and thus far, the trick hasn't failed me. Embarrassed me in public, yes, but failed me, no. And once the pictures are developed, who cares if there's someone in the background of the shot giving us a dirty look? More times than not, they're actually giggling too because there are very few people who can hear "Professor Poopypants" and not crack at least a little smile (try it, I dare you).
Is this acceptable in public? I mean, can kids talk about poopypants, diapers, farts and peeing at a place such as a dinner table? Or perhaps a better question, is there really any better place to talk of such things? Now that I recall, Bill and his brothers have been grossing out guests at their family Thanksgiving table looong before any babies were born. So perhaps it shouldn't surprise me now that all Liam & Joshua and their friends want to talk about at the table is... poopypants, diapers, farts and peeing or variations thereof. Also, apparently it's not enough to say these things, you must say them loudly so everyone can hear and then laugh so hard they snort milk out of their noses. So here's my take on this... I've found that some of my personal philosophy has become more malleable (translate: picking battles which can be translated into: being lazy)... it depends on the company? The first time "pooping" was brought up at a playdate, I did suggest that it wasn't a great topic but ... eventually I let it go because everyone else was. So now that's the hot topic at playdates because apparently if any one of us decided to stick their their original philosophy of no potty talk at the table, they gave up like me (resistance is futile!). But if poopytalk were to occur in other circles... eh, we'd probably have to put the kabosh in it, which would be no fun at all.
But back to pooping. Here's a tip for all you parents of kids with diapers: If you're kid is walking around like he/she has a wedgie, he/she may actually have a wedgie and you may want to take care of the "problem" before the poopsplosion comes (I made that word up, it's not from Captain U, I swear. I doubt a real author would be able to make up a word with 4 consonants in a row anyway). My sister was lamenting that she had no other option but to change her one year old baby on a public restroom changing table. We were at a fancy resort. She was staying overnight but her room wasn't ready (thus the unfortunate changing table) and I was just visiting for lunch which is my way of hanging out with the fancypantses even though I can't afford to spend the night! At any rate, after she fussed over the germs on the surface, using a changing pad from home and a few paper towels for a pillow, I washed off those little fingers with an extra wipey and he was on his way. Then it was Joshua's turn. He was plopped down bare-assedWhatevs. Unscathed, we walked back to the rest of our party down a long hallway, stopping to look at a nature exhibit and peek into the library (my sister needed a private place to nurse later on since the room wasn't ready). That's when we noticed how silly he was walking down the hallway "like he had a wedgie". Yeah, he actually did have a wedgie. Big mistake... BIG mistake.
After a lovely afternoon mini putt-putting (that has nothing to do with pooping, we were actually golfing), walking in the gardens, feeding the fishies, sipping tea and perusing the gift shop I realized that Joshua was a little stinker. Really, a little stinker. So I exited with Josh as Liam went down to feed more fish. Carrying Joshua down to the bathroom, I realized there was some leakage. This wasn't good. His other pants were parked in the car- not close by (too cheap for valet). Hmmmm... Back to the bathroom with the changing table with no changing pad. Poopsplosion. And why? Because the diaper was only covering one of his cheeks.
You know how it always happens; you go into a perfectly empty space to do something private and then people end up being right there, flocking to the exact location where you are trying to complete your private deed? Well, there I was with a disgusting diaper... an external disgusting diaper mess... and suddenly there was someone sitting right behind me in a chair behind the changing table (I could have sat in her lap) and masses of people overtook the sinks... those sinks with precious water and soap and paper towels that I needed. Did I mention I had no cell phone? Did I mention my little professor poopypants over here thought the whole thing was hilarious and was kicking his legs and wiggling his butt to and fro?
I got rid of the evidence like a pro, forced a diaper on Joshua, wiped down the changing table and plopped him down in the chair that the lady had apparently gotten up from (what better hint do you need then someone's ass in your face and a stink of poop wafting at you head on?). I set to work at Joshua's pants with some wet paper towels and soap but we all know it was a cob job, the best I could do in the situation. I can decisively say we both washed our hands thoroughly this time! Nonchalantly we set back out into the fancy hotel, Joshua with a wet pants butt that he couldn't feel (thanks to his fresh new diaper), me with frizzed out hair and the appearance of someone who was thoroughly defeated. We walked atop the beautiful Victorian carpet past the detailed wood-work, the luxuriously padded furniture, the classical music drifting through the air... and it was time to go home.
My sister walked us to the car and when we got there, I gave her the best advice that I could ever really offer her... "On second thought, don't use those restroom changing tables after all."
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