Good Mommy/Bad Mommy

Questioning the Win or Lose Parenting Myth - Steady Mom

2011-05-21T10:31:00.000-07:00

Questioning the Win or Lose Parenting Myth - Steady Mom

Does a good mommy "stand her ground"?

Perspective (and a bit off topic)

2011-02-01T07:05:00.000-08:00

Sure, I'm a bit of a bubble here and often oblivious to what people really think of the people of my faith (I didn't grow up here, but even then my friends didn't care and most all the people I knew were kind and respectful to me and my family despite our six kids and the whole zero population movement).

Still, I was a little taken aback this morning to find a link shared on Facebook by a friend of mine from work--from another part of the country and of another faith--screaming about a Mormon mother who is in hot water for using a cold shower and hot sauce to discipline her son.

I'm sure I don't know the whole story. I'm equally sure I had hot sauce put on my tongue a few times when I was a kid. Among other things that could probably get a parent tossed into jail these days. (And I was WAY less sassy than a particular child of mine.) But that's not the point.

What I thought was interesting is that people abuse their kids every day. Not ever do I read a headline that identifies the abuser by his or her religion.

"Lock her up and throw away the key!" She (my friend) said in all caps.

Hmmm. I've not seen anyone screaming on Facebook about the woman of an undisclosed religion who, just a few days, shot and killed her kids for being sassy to her.

People really do hate us. And because 'we' are some of the nicest people I know (not the only nicest and not all of us are nice, but you know what I mean), I'm always taken aback by that.

/rant

to play or not to play

2011-01-07T20:27:00.001-08:00

Let's put the whole east vs. west thing aside and cut it down to this:

Work

vs.

Play

Go!

I've got to stop reading the news...

2010-12-16T07:57:00.000-08:00

So here's one for you:

Good mommy?

or

Bad mommy?

South Jordan mother cited for neglect for allowing child to walk to school

McDonald's is not your mom

2010-12-15T07:09:00.000-08:00

Did you happen to catch this today?

"You're a mom. You're their mom. Isn't it your job to tell them 'No?'"

Yes. When that's what's best for them, that's what you do. Once. Twice. One-hundred beyond infinity times.

You're in charge of what they eat.

You're in charge of how many McDonald's commercials they're seeing on TV.

You're in charge of teaching them "You can't have everything, because where would you put it?!"

What are you going to do, sue everybody trying to sell something that may not be in the best interest of your kid?

Woman up and just say "No" already.

Or again, as the case may be.

Affirmation

2010-12-13T06:58:00.000-08:00

This from my son's college sociology class:

Time children spend with their mothers has a direct correlation to their (the children's) cognitive development...

but only if their mothers are verbally skilled.

Take a bow, ladies.

In over my head

2010-12-02T18:45:00.000-08:00

So the 15-year-old is stuck in AP Euro class till the end of the term. She's in way over her head. Is she smart enough to pass this class? Yes. Is she willing to put in the kind of work that would be required for her to pass this class? No.

She's been bugging us to go to the library for a book she's supposed to read for class. I think it is due by next Thursday. Every time we've gone to take her she's made other plans. Finally I told her last night we were going that minute. When we got there asked her what book it was she needed. She couldn't remember the name of any of the books on the list, but she's looking for the one with the least number of pages, so had to text a friend and ask.

"A Tale of Two Cities"

Nuh-uh. If I had a dime for every time I picked up that book and put it back down again... I only finally made myself read the whole thing about 10 years ago. And I'm an English major.

Today the following e-mail exchange took place:

Me:

Hi Mr. Smith,

Could you please provide me with the list of books to be read for your AP Euro class? I want to make sure Lindsay is reading the right book for her.

Thank you very much--

Dalene

Mr. Smith:

Here's the list:

1. Candide - Voltaire

2. War and Peace - Tolstoy

3. 7 Men of Gascony - Delderfield

4. Napoleon - Schom

5. Lorna Doone – Blackmore

6. Tale of Two Cities – Dickens

7. Three Musketeers – Dumas

8. Don Quixote - Cervantes

9. Wealth of Nations - Smith

Thanks!

My fifteen-year-old...War and Peace? Candide? Don Quixote? By December 9?

Yeah, right.

Checking out

2010-11-07T14:57:00.000-08:00

So... ever since I discovered there are people I can't trust in my ward, who are cyber-stalking my every move I've been in a funk about socializing with people from Church. And since no one will 'fess up to who they are...I have been emotionally checked out of my ward, my callings, anything that will put me in any kind of contact with people who would be such a bunch of ______.

I have a friend in primary who mentioned that they hadn't gotten around to celebrating my daughter's birthdays in primary. Their birthdays were the last two weeks of September. It's November now.

I don't even know if I should bother bringing it up. It's clear as day that there is a vendetta against my family because I refuse to conform to faking my way around the ward. Which is kind of useful as a whole bucket-load of people are actively avoiding me and my family because I officially have a Scarlett letter on my chest. It is also really helpful in identifying those that are loyal, worthy friends. It's clear that in my ward anyone who is willing to speak their mind will immediately be reprimanded and not only that, they'll take it out on your kids.

So... question - do I even bother with these kind of people, or just chalk it up to... the Church would be great without all the people. OR - gospel is true - it's the people who aren't.

I am only going to my ward now, because primary could be good for my girls... although, even this theory is currently up for debate.

Trust is big for me... and when it is shattered... there's no gaining it back.

ps. I'm also writing on a gloomy, rainy day...and if you know me... I am solar powered. Today is just depressing.

waste of time

2010-10-28T22:47:00.000-07:00

One of my daughters attends a dual-immersion program for school, English & Mandarin. Last week I attended a parent informational meeting, which meetings are held periodically to make sure that there is no confusion with the program, that teachers and parents are on the same page, etc., and which I find to be a helpful touch to assisting the kids in this new world of language.

The meeting began with the typical announcement that any questions about individual concerns should be held until the group presentation was finished. This is something I appreciate, as I am not keen on sitting in meetings where things are being discussed which don't pertain to me (snob? sure, I'll take that).

The first 45 or so minutes of the scheduled 60-minute meeting went very well and were executed efficiently. And then the questions began. "Excuse me, um, my son..." I stopped listening, except to search out an appropriate time to stand up from my front row seat and exit. That is when I heard the following:

"I have a question. Each night my child has to work on writing characters. I mean, do we have to do this? It takes such a long time, and it doesn't even make any sense. It's not like they're actually letters. It just seems like a huge waste of time to me."

Right.

just something i've been thinking about

2010-10-15T06:17:00.001-07:00

When I was a teenager, my mom bought a brand new Jeep. Having only had it for a few weeks, I was driving the jeep to a ski resort with my boyfriend when I, going down a steep hill and around a corner, hit a patch of black ice. I overcorrected, but it didn't matter (because it was ice). I am so, so grateful that there weren't any cars on that road at that time. We ended up on the opposite side of the road, facing the direction from which we'd come, and the jeep was on its side -- the passenger side. Fortunately, we landed in a thick snow bank which seemed to sort of cushion the blow. We had to climb up and out the driver's side door to get out. I was dizzy.

We walked to the nearest house and explained what happened, I asked the woman if I could use her phone. I remember her house being warm and smelling good -- she was cooking something. This sweet woman welcomed us in, and as I was talking with Eric about how mad my mom would be, this woman said, "Oh, Honey, I'm sure she'll just be glad that you're alright!"

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"We haven't made it out of town yet. I hit some ice."

"Where's the jeep?"

"It's on the side of the road."

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE JEEP?!?!!"

"Um...we're fine. We didn't get hurt."

I gave her the address and she hung up on me.

She arrived with the tow truck, and she didn't say a word to me with her mouth; her eyes, however, were piercing, her lips pursed into a straight line.

"Mom, I'm sorry."

"You had better pray that there isn't anything wrong with the jeep," is all she said.

The tow truck cables set, the beloved jeep was pulled from the snow bank and the result was revealed: not a scratch.

My mom didn't talk to me for a while after that. When she did, I got plenty of reminders of . . . well, frankly, of what didn't (but could have!) happen with her Brand New Jeep.

****************
When my oldest daughter was four years old, we were at our neighbor's house for a party. Li'l ~j. was excited to have some red punch, but also loved to sit on the neighbor's Love Sac, which is an oversized bean bag used as a piece of furniture. I think that bean bag was one of my daughter's favorite places on the planet, it was so comfortable. At this party, however, I reminded her that she was not, under any circumstances, to sit on the bean bag with a drink.

Our neighbor even reminded her, "Sweetie, please listen to your mommy. You can have the drink in the kitchen and then sit on the bean bag."

You know what happened next.

Embarrassed and mentally calculating how I could afford to buy our neighbors a new bean bag, I began cleaning it up as best I could. It was a small stain, but it was still there.

It was clear that my daughter, now seeing why we had given her the direction about her drink, felt bad. She, too, was embarrassed. She apologized to my neighbor.

It was at this point that my neighbor did something I don't think I'll ever forget.

She walked up to my daughter, kneeled down in front of her so as to be at eye-level, and took both of my daughter's hands into her own. She looked into her eyes and asked, "What do you think I love more, you or that bean bag? Hm?"

Sheepishly, my daughter answered, "Me?"

"That's right," came the answer, "You are more important to me than a bean bag. I love you more than a bean bag."

And for years following, at random times my daughter would look at me and with a smile say, "Hey, Mom? La Yen loves me more than a bean bag."

Exactly.

2010-06-10T20:35:00.000-07:00

I was trying, as I often do, to put tell my daughter that her father and I will always love each other, and that she never needs to worry about us loving her.

Me to Jooj: "You never ever ever have to think about..."

Jooj (interupting): "Clowns."

i saw something

2010-06-07T12:39:00.001-07:00

Huh.

I forgot that three year olds are evil.

2010-03-29T14:11:00.003-07:00

I haven't posted here before, but I am going to start. It is a way to start to log some of the parenting stuff that I can't really go into on my blog (because my kids read my blog but don't know about this one yet...).

Can someone remind me where the magic button is on my three year old to make her stop being so sullen, stubborn and defiant? I can't seem to find it. On the one hand I am thrilled for her to hit a developmental milestone on time after being behind for so many years, but the reality is that she is a STINKER--my hardest kid yet.

Time outs don't work. She could care less about getting vinegar on her tongue (always worked with the others), we do 1, 2, 3, etc. I feel like my tried and true things are not working. Any suggestions? What worked for you? I think I just need a refresher course before I duct tape her to her bed and not let her out until she is 9.

Hey Ladies,

2010-03-29T14:11:00.001-07:00

Too Ridiculous to be Fiction

2010-03-11T12:17:00.000-08:00

... okay... today I'm posting a bad father story.

It's my husband's father. I just can't help but ask... shout to the universe - who does this kind of crap?

About 2-3 years ago my husband's mother and oldest brother were killed in a car accident in Hungary. The youngest brother, who they were picking up from his mission in Hungary, was the only one in the car that escaped all injury. He also had two friends in the car with them who were both injured. The father had stayed behind in the hotel that day.

Since that point in time my husband's father - who still had six, grown children to comfort and support, as they had lost their mother and brother - checked out. He continued to act selfishly, immaturely and frankly... displayed his true character...we think.

He was not an achiever, and is a porn addict. His wife was an achiever, college degree, school board, well-known in the community, and Church. The big joke in their family was that when they were to be married in the temple she hoped he wouldn't show up... and he joked that he thought the same thing. She was always disappointed he didn't serve a mission, or even complete a college degree. He was always losing jobs. Everyone considered him weak. They blamed her for it. Turns out, without her to hide behind, his selfish, petty nature was exposed.

Little less than a year or so he met a woman online. She is a woman who'd lived on welfare her entire life. And said that her quadriplegic husband left her and her kids. Can someone explain that one to me? Due to the death of his wife - my husband's father used the insurance money and went on a spending spree with his new girlfriend. Lavish, excursions... etc... despite the fact that the kids all knew, based on emails and other discovery... their father decided to marry this woman in the LDS temple in Hawaii. The kids were not at that ceremony.

Then my husband's father and his new wife started to unceremoniously discard anything, and everything of my husband's mother. They were insensitive to the feelings and emotions the six kids were going through.

And now... their father just emailed the kids in his family to tell them that his life insurance is set to be renewed soon - and he has opted, due to his squandering all his death money - can't afford his life insurance, and is throwing it over to the kids to decide whether they want to pay for it or not. Side note... he does have life insurance for his current wife...and he just recently leased a brand new car...and is unemployed.

What?????

Who does that?

The kids are trying to decide what to do...with legal backing etc... but my opinion? Wash our hands of it. Who cares about the life insurance... forget the pathetic loser.

I can't imagine... how my husband's mother had to suffer being married to someone who is a complete, and utter disappointment. Can you imagine her watching her husband completely mistreating her children right now? She's rolling over in her grave... to say that I loathe this person... who is not in any way a man... is merely an understatement. He's like a disease. I don't think it's any mistake that his first wife who was skinny when she married him... became extremely overweight. And now... his new welfare wife... started off skinny - and in the last 1-2 years has ballooned to twice her original size, leaning towards obese. He is a disgusting infection.

I am stunned that I know someone like this. It's utterly mental.

in other news...

2010-03-10T20:31:00.000-08:00

sorry: i know i'm hogging the blog. ya'll should post something here. soon. please. (but in the meantime this is the last word from me for awhile.)

ahem. in other news...

this week i am a good mommy and I WILL pat myself on the back for not completely freaking out (in fact, for not freaking out even incompletely, except maybe a little little down deep inside my belly) when adult child/boy #2 asked me if i would be mad if he dropped out of school and became a mechanic. (because he is disinterested in ALL the majors in college.)

my audible reply: as long as you mean two years from now and not in the middle of this (already but barely paid-for) semester, no.

my silent reply: great. i only have two short years during which to pray my guts out he will discover some new passion while abroad and will come home and declare a major.

let us all pray.

accommodate

2010-03-08T20:58:00.000-08:00

1 : to make fit, suitable, or congruous
2 : to bring into agreement or concord : reconcile
3 : to provide with something desired, needed, or suited (as a helpful service, a loan, or lodgings)
4 a : to make room for b : to hold without crowding or inconvenience
5 : to give consideration to : allow for

definition courtesy of merriam-webster

***********

there is a brief moment between falling out of sunday and jumping in to yet another busy week during which i actually breathe. then monday morning rushes at me and i don't feel like the world stops spinning again until that quiet moment sunday morning (or afternoon, as the case may be) after i slide across the back-row bench at church and breathe again.

during that moment just last night that now somehow seems like ages ago, i stopped to contemplate how i was going to

get to the gym (6:00)

come home (7:30)

shower and get ready for work

help k~ get ready

(will there be time for breakfast somewhere in there?)

run zack up to a drumline event at byu (8:30)

go to work early (9:00)

leave work on time (2:30) because i will only have one hour to get to the grocery store and pick up ingredients for chili, run home and defrost the sausage, wash out the crockpot still soaking from yesterday's knock-off cafe rio, brown the meat and toss in all the rest of the ingredients (which are no longer written down, so they may vary from time to time) and then

pick up k~ from school (3:30)

before leaving for suzie's softball game (4:00)

***********

they started the game early, which meant i missed her first hit (a double) as member of the phs softball team.

sigh

but i sat on the cold hard ground (didn't realize there was a shocking lack of bleacher space at the high school ball field) and cheered.

because that's what moms do.

i ran home in between games intending to change out of my work clothes and into something warmer and to drop off some chili to my friend jane who just had foot surgery, as i had promised to bring her some dinner.

got a call from suze, who is required to stay until all the games are played. she was not, after all, going to be playing in the next game (which meant i didn't have to go back). but she was hungry. i told her i'd send over a cup of chili. she didn't want chili. she wanted take-out. (can you hear the echo of the minced-fish girl in your head as i write this?)

and this is where all the accommodating came screeching to a halt.

she wanted take-out?

and after all i had packed into that day, in part, in a deliberate effort to avoid fast food.

not to mention my having created an awesome batch of homemade that's-homemade-from-scratch...so-scratch-there-is-no-real-recipe chili.

"no," i said.

i refuse.

i. will. not...spend good money (even off the dollar menu--it's still good money) for bad take-out that is, at least for tonight, so completely unnecessary.

i handed the phone to my husband and walked out the front door. i walked to jane's, cradling a piping hot quart jar of chili in my pocket with one hand and carrying fresh french bread and lindt chocolate in the other, because i'd lent my car (which happens to be the only one of our four vehicles that is running properly at the moment) to zack, who was trying to find someone who could pull off the mouthpiece from k~'s trumpet because it needs to be fixed before his concert on thursday.

later, after the game was over, and suze had devoured a nice hot bowl of homemade chili, i went back out into the cold to big 5 because there is another game tomorrow (and the next day, and the next, and a tournament this weekend) and the coach says they have to have a second pair of sliders. this one black. because while the white ones are fine under their white pants, they must have black ones for under their black shorts.

oh, and she needed new cleats.

she paid for half of her new cleats (which were not name brand and which were on sale) with her own money. she did this willingly. and said "thank you."

and i bought myself a swim cap.

because i needed one.

I can be normal again, well relatively speaking

2010-01-26T12:25:00.000-08:00

Hey

just so you know miracles DO happen (and also, life goes back to normal)

Guess who's napping right now? And only cried for a minute when I put him down.

Guess who else is going to go take a nap?

This is an easy quiz.

Advice

2010-01-25T11:47:00.000-08:00

So my oldest who is five is a bright, fun and thoughtful girl. She's also extremely melodramatic, and can't seem to let things go... everything that doesn't go her way is literally the end of the world in her mind.

Lately this behavior is disruptive in her class. I am at a loss as to how to deal and manage her behavior...and help her change it.

This morning as we walked to her class, she was running around with her friends and her umbrella when her ponytail came loose and her clip holding her bangs fell out...and she had a sobbing breakdown, halfway to her classroom. I explained that standing there and crying would not fix her hair, the best choice was to walk over to her classroom and then I could fix it for her. She was incredibly worried about what people would think of her.

Eventually she calmed down and we were able to get in line and do her hair, give her a hug and a kiss. I talked to her about how when she was crying and freaking out it didn't help solve the problem. I explained that being calm and having me help her solved the problem. I could tell she was still holding onto those frantic emotions she had. I watched her walk into the classroom with her classmates and then watched as she broke down into tears again.

That's when I went over and she did her routine, "I'm scared!" and "everyone's looking at me" (when no one cares or is even looking at her) talk and starts to really freak herself out... she knows how to make herself more and more agitated...to the point where once she has her freak out she's fine. Every kid in the 24 kid classroom walked in, deposited their coats, backpacks, lunch boxes and then picked their work box up from their cubbies and sat down to work. My daughter was cowering next to me, refusing to let it go. The teacher eventually had to come over and work her magic. She is magic to me. I told her how sorry I was and her teacher told me to go take a breath, she'd take care of it.

This is frustrating because... intellectually - my 5 year old is at the top of her class... socially... incredibly immature when it comes to anything that doesn't go her way.

What do I do??? I've started to give her specific, consistent chores... ever since she was 18 months she's been into her appearance... she's so overly aware of details and what people think... or what she thinks people think ... I worry that if we don't get things taken care of now...she's going to have a hard go of it as a teen with peer pressure.

I don't know what to do. My 3 year old could not give a rat's bum what anyone else thinks. Rewards, timeouts... don't work on her. With my 5 year old... anytime she's told to go to timeout for talking back, poking her sister in the eye, etc... it's instant tears and manipulation "you don't love me, you hate me... you don' t think I'm cute."

Help?

I win no parenting awards today

2010-01-21T10:48:00.000-08:00

I am having a crisis.

One you probably have all experienced so I'm not sure if I just need to vent it out, or if anyone might actually have a viable solution OR IF THERE'S EVEN A SOLUTION AT ALL.

Here's the deal,

S. was a terrible sleeper at first, you know, the newborn stage and whatnot. Then one night I swaddled him tight and he slept like 5 hours. Miracle. Then the swaddling continued and more sleep at night but still no napping during the day. This continued for about 5 months, night sleeping but no napping unless he was napping on me. It near sent me over the edge. Then one day I just put him in his crib and walked away throwing my hands in the air. He cried for 25 minutes and then slept for 2.5 hours. Then the heavens opened and poured out good fortune upon me and from that point on he was a 2 nap a day for 2 hours and 11-12 hours a night kind of kid. I never had to rock him all the way to sleep, just put him in his crib and he'd do the rest and if he did fall asleep while we were rocking than I could just put him in his crib and he'd continue on napping or whatever.

Teething a mouth full of fangs all at the same time didn't even phase the kid, barring the occasional random episode he still napped and slept like a champion. I had hit the jackpot.

Until Tuesday.

Tuesday entailed an early wake up call (about 5:50 am), he usually sleeps until somewhere around 7 at least. So we get up, we eat, we play, watch some toons. Then the eye rubbing, the yawning, the tell tale signs of exhaustion and nap readiness. So we go to his room, rock in the chair and he falls asleep pronto. I go to lay him down and he wakes as soon as I stand up, terrified, screaming and clinging to me like a spider monkey. Back down I sit, more rocking, back to sleep, go to get up and the whole episode repeats itself. So I just lay him down thinking he'll cry for a few minutes and go down. WRONG. Screaming, lots of screaming. No sleeping.

Repeat for the last 3 days.

Here's the kicker, at night, for the most part he's going down with absolutely no difficulty whatsoever. How do you explain that?

Teething? Perhaps. Tylenol doesn't seem to be helping much and then how would you explain why he's going to bed at night with no problem?

Giving up naps? Then why is he falling asleep instantly when I rock him and acting so sleepy?

Growth spurt?

Ear infection? Again, why would he be sleeping at night so well (except he is waking up super early, especially today. Hello 4:30 am!).

If he were simply giving up naps that would be fine, but I think I've demonstrated that's not the case. Crying it out hasn't worked so far (though he's finally quiet for the time being). I've made an appointment with the pediatrician to have his ears checked.

The worst part of it all is how I'm handling this situation. I find myself without any patience, on the verge of screaming and yelling back at him. I know how wrong that reaction is, he's 17.5 months old for pity's sake. Why am I not more motherly and loving? Where has my nurturing spirit gone? It's like the first time he tries to really test my patience and motherly skills I go berserk and selfish and only think about me and how I'm losing it and how I can't take this anymore.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME???

What else doesn't help is that we live in my in-laws basement and every move I make I feel like I'm being watched. It's seriously the fishbowl effect. As if I didn't feel awful enough about how poorly I'm handling stress, I snap at everyone and generally am acting as ugly and dramatic as I possibly can.

I hate that they're seeing this side of me.

I hate that we don't have our own space.

I hate their damn dog and his clicky toenails on the hardwood floor or the way he barks and goes bananas when the doorbell rings.

I hate the advice they try to give me.

I hate the weather.

I hate not being home alone to deal with this.

I am acting like a petulant child. Sullen, defensive, and quick to anger.

I am a train wreck.

I am a bad mommy today.

fwiw: reconciliation

2010-01-01T07:21:00.000-08:00

here's a little follow up to the mean girl post:

time has healed some wounds. suzie did apologize--more than once--and then she waited. it was kind of sweet, really. i could tell when we talked about it that her regret and her desire to make things right was sincere. there were numerous times she would ask us or another friend if she should call katy or try to chat with her when she was on facebook, but it never seemed to be the right time. at school, katy wouldn't even look at her.

then a couple of days ago she must have called katy or something, because suze came jumping into the living room all excited (and a little too proud of herself) that she was going to go over to katy's (she lives just around the corner). they reconciled and katy even came over to our house. i know things may still be a bit awkward--they can both get on each other's nerves--but they're both trying.

the reason i wanted to bring this up again (in addition to the fact that i like resolution) is that i learned a valuable lesson from katy's mom. she works with my husband and i was afraid that would be a little awkward (because we all know how easy it is to get all mother bear when it comes to our kids). i had an opportunity to speak with her at the school's christmas party and i was so grateful and impressed.

katy's mother was great. i apologized to her and told her how badly we felt and how much we loved and missed katy. she had the right to be very angry, but instead she was awesome. she took the "girls will be girls" approach, telling me that katy has been guilty of doing the very same thing. while she was obviously sad that her daughter's feelings had been hurt, she also made it clear she wanted the two to reconcile. she expressed her hopes that suzie would be patient while katy worked through it and that they would be friends again. she also told me how much they loved and missed suze and was so very understanding. that was super generous of her, especially as, in this case, it was completely my child's fault.

what i have observed as a mother with older kids--particularly as a mother of a daughter--is that we have two options when our girls mix it up with or are hurt by other girls. we can go all mother bear and want to hurt somebody (this is my instinctual response) and try to fix it. or we can love and support our own child, while remaining open to the possibility that there are two sides to every story; get the facts and look at them with some degree of perspective; and give our kids the space to work things out and learn what they can and need to from the experience.

with the girls in my hood, i have seen the effects of both types of parental responses. my observation is that the results are generally better--resolution is more likely and my child learns so much more--when i take the high road.

i guess what i am saying is, when i grow up i want to be like katy's mom.

that's all.

Now for the Flabbergasted response

2009-12-11T08:00:00.000-08:00

I have to give credit to my friend Cabesh. I think I was so utterly stunned that someone would be this uptight about something that they'd send me an email that evening of the activity to complain... that I really was at a complete loss. I wanted to do the right thing... but my lunatic meter was vibrating like mad. When crazy people do crazy things... surprising me a bit... I start to think I am crazy.

So I took Cabesh's email and just added a few details. If it were me, off the cuff... I'd be much less charitable - because I can't stand ridiculous behavior, immature, and insecure women. They drive me crazy, and cause ridiculous amounts of drama, requiring the rest of us to tiptoe around on eggshells.

Dear Parent,

I'm so sorry that your daughter didn't have an enjoyable time at our class activity last night. We were really striving to build sisterhood and friendship amongst the girls while celebrating the birth of our Savior and the spirit of giving. Our Pres/Laurel advisor was sick last night so we went ahead and had the Laurels combine with us. There were only three of them.

I'm not sure which gift your daughter brought or who it ended up with (me, or one of the other leaders, or a laurel). When we have activities, as leaders we try to participate as much as we can to create enthusiasm and to teach by example-- it's amazing how much more willing the girls are to do service and to be involved when they see that we leaders are into it. So, with that as our general philosophy, we did participate in the gift exchange.

When it was my turn to pick a gift, I let my 3yo go pick one out for me. When that gift was "stolen" (we allowed 3 steals per gift) I let my 5yo have a turn to pick my gift. I'm not sure what the standard rules are other than whoever brings a gift gets to participate. It seemed like everyone was having a great time, and girls at this age are so great with little ones. In fact they were encouraging my girls to pick certain gifts when they were picking them in my place. We also had three extra gifts left over so we let one of the leaders who didn't bring a gift pick one out. Then the YW decided they wanted to give the leftover two gifts to my girls. I guess I should have told the girls they were not allowed to give them to my girls. If your daughter's gift is one of the three that ended up in my home I'd be happy to return it to her so she can pass it on to one of the other YW. Please let me know which one it was.

Again, I am sorry that your daughter felt disappointed. I hope that she knows how much we love and appreciate her. She is quite talented at offering ideas when we're planning activities.

Merry Christmas,
QS

ps. I have been waiting for a response... and guess what... not a shocker - there hasn't been one. Bets on if she ever will? Or maybe just sneer and continue the cold-front towards my family. Oh...and I need to mention... her oldest daughter let slip her father is racist against... Asians. Nice huh? He was recently released as our Home Teacher... don't worry he only came once out of obligation. (thank heavens...) Living in Calif...a racist... how ignorant can you get???

pps. I'm being released as Beehive adviser and moved into Laurels this Sunday. Which is kind of a relief. Because now I finally get to work with a woman (my friend/pres of yw) who knows who she is, is confident, and a great example...and knows how to be a leader.

Flabbergasted

2009-12-09T21:23:00.000-08:00

WE recently had a Beehive activity (for 12-13 yr old girls)... at my home, where I baked chocolate chunk cookies and sugar cookies and provided hot chocolate. We did a white elephant gift exchange where the leaders participated because that's how you foster enthusiasm for activities, etc... As it was at my house... I let my 3 yr old pick out my gift when it was my turn. She picked a box of Andes mints... because she likes chocolate. It was quickly "stolen" from her. So I had my 5 yr old go and pick out a present for me. She was a bit terrified at first because all the girls started coaxing her to take this present and that present. The majority wanted her to pick the giant present. So she did... it was a bag of skittles and a chili pepper pinata.

It never did get stolen from her.

Then at the end of it all... there were three extra gifts left. So we let a leader who hadn't brought anything take a gift. Then the girls decided to give my girls the remaining two gifts - a plastic sword and a big ball of string.

That evening I receive the following email from one of the parents of the girls.

Thank you for your help with the Beehives, I know it can be a handful! I wanted to let you know of a small concern I had about tonight's activity (and please know that I realize I wasn't there). My daughter & I had worked to come up with a white elephant gift for tonights activity. We were under the impression that the game was for the beehives only. When I picked her up I was disappointed to hear that the items we picked didn't end up with a beehive girl. I felt like if this was a Christmas item exchange for the girls to think of each other and have fun, then it missed the mark when the game didn't follow the standard rules. I appreciate your working with the girls and I hope you can understand that when they have a negative experience it becomes that much harder for me to keep them interested in coming.

Thank you for your hard work and concern,

ME

Should I mention she's our Primary President??? (

I'll post my response after I hear what ya'll have to say.

has this happened to you?

2009-12-06T14:01:00.000-08:00

so my 14-year-old did something stupid and unkind the other day. part of me is angry and disappointed. but part of me knows this has happened, at one time or another, to a lot of people. so i'd like to hear your stories and about how you handled it if it ever happened to you.

despite my repeated pleas she "play nice," she was dissing a friend to a group of other friends (to be fair, they were all dissing that girl. mean, i know. but also very 14). while she was going off the girl walked in and heard what she said.

the girl is, of course, crushed. i wish i had the power to take her hurt away and unbreak her heart, but i don't.

i would, however, like to know how to help my daughter apologize. (not that she listens to me. much. but i'd like to try.) she does feel badly (she has a conscience after all). but she is more prone to avoid the situation than woman up and say she's sorry.

your thoughts?

on braids and body image

2009-10-12T20:21:00.000-07:00

this is--after a fashion--my homework.

disclaimer: i do know how to french braid. it's just that having two boys first didn't give me much practice to prepare for a girl who can't sit still long enough for me to get it right. i could do it with practice. really, i could.

14-year-old daughter, looking at her funky not-a-french-braid: too bad someone around here doesn't know how to french braid!

*****

14-year-old daughter: don't you think my hair looks cute like this?

me: yes. but i think you look cute no matter how your hair is.

14-year-old daughter: i know.

i raise my eyebrow...

14-year-old daughter, looking right at me: but aren't you glad i'm not one of those "no i don't. these make me look fat. i'm not pretty..." kind of girls?

me: you got that right!

maybe she would have come out that way anyway. but maybe my making it a point not to disparage myself--my body--out loud helps her a little. i hope so. it would kind of make up for that not being able to french braid thing.

Your Child is Invited...

2009-10-11T19:38:00.000-07:00

...to a birthday party.

It's for a fifteen year old.

Let's say a boy.

It involves "some fun" at a local Fun Place, followed by a spaghetti dinner at the boy's home.

Please RSVP.

And don't forget to bring $15 to contribute to all the "fun".

Please comment.

On the Subject of Outings With Children....

2009-09-03T10:08:00.001-07:00

What do we think of this?
The Associated Press: Stranger accused of slapping crying child at store

A lot of the chatter rolling around is of the assumption that people are tired of "bratty kids" and having to listen to crying toddlers or babies in public places.

What I am thinking is, "There are plenty of ADULTS I'd like to slap at Walmart...but you don't see ME hauling off!! Since when are children and babies less important than any other human on this planet?"

...oh wait.

Shared via AddThis

Mommy High and Low, All In One Outing

2009-09-02T23:25:00.000-07:00

I had the opportunity to run some errands yesterday with only my 5 year old daughter in tow. (Any time spent running errands with less than the usual amount of tag-a-longs is a little manna from heaven, no?) First on the list was to do some schoolbook hunting at a local used book store.

Book store browsing with kid(s) has not gone well in the past. At least not the way I like to book store browse. Typical book store trips with the kid(s) had not involved much browsing. Mostly quick scanning. Lot's of kid chasing. On a good trip, reading 20 million children's books.

This trip was different. It was a first. We leisurely browsed, yes BROWSED, the book store for nearly 2 hours!!! The two of us!!! Did I mention that we BROWSED??? LEISURELY???!!! Took our time. Picked through all the shelves that interested us. Flipped through pages. Read short stories. Sat side by side just doing our thing. She had a little pile going. I had a little pile going. Occasionally, one of us would lift a brow and share a little tidbit from whatever had caught our fascination at the moment. It was heaven!!!!!

It took an observation of a mother who wandered back to our section with her son, probably a year younger than my daughter, for me to truly appreciate my blissed out moment. She tried to sift through the unorganized book shelves while distractedly calling after her son. She tried to search for treasures amid the overstuffed rows, but really, I know she was scanning the same shelf over and over each time she came back from pulling her kid off of the nearby ladder. This poor, exasperated mother sat her son down with a book probably a half dozen times. He wouldn't fall for it unless she promised to stop "browsing" and read to him. It was during this little lad's third trip around the book store, mom close behind, that I glanced down at my precious 5 year old. I couldn't help but throw my arms around her and whisper "I love you" in her ear. We had reached a milestone. One I have been looking forward to for a long time.

I practically bounced out of the store with my little one in tow. I was on a mommy HIGH. I was already planning a forecast of new outings with my newfound book store buddy!

Oh yes, we had one more errand to attend to on this outing. A stop at the "Only 99 Cents" store. First this, than that. Just two more items. Ok, let's head to the checkout. And that is when my mommy high dropped to a sinking low. Plummeted, rather.

"Ewww! Why does that man's skin look so weird?" my 5 year old points to the man approaching our line (You know, to make sure we all see exactly who the rude comment is directed at). I thought we were PAST that stage! I answer some plain spoken possibilities ending with an "I don't know, but let's remember to be kind."

No, that answer would not suffice. My daughters questions would not remain innocuous, either. They took an offensive, embarrassing turn for the worse that left me scrambling for distractions and red-facedly rushing to get OUT of the store and IN to the car. The whole way, thinking to myself, "She KNOWS better! Where did she come UP with that stuff?? Have I not taught her correctly?" Finally, "Why didn't I handle that better??"

I always thought I'd apologize in those situations. Thought my child would be "well-mannered, loving and polite" during public outings by this stage. ;-) Well, at least more loving. Or that I'd at least handle an occasional, innocent flub with more decorum and loving politeness than I actually did. (Neck sweating, face blushing, avoiding eye contact and refusing to turn around and face the man, let alone apologize, was not exactly the best response, huh?)

All of this, to remind me that I am just a mom. Not "just a mom" as in, "nothing more" than a mom. (I'm really not sure what THAT means, anyhow. But that is a WHOLE different story.) No, I am just a mom. My role as mom is teacher. Nurturer. Caretaker. I am there to love. It is so simple. As much as I want to take credit for the "highs" and hang my head in shame over the "lows", I cannot. I am no more of a good mommy, than I am a bad mommy. I am simply, "Mommy".

P.S. The car ride home provided a valuable teaching opportunity. *wink*wink*

Rude...or Socially Inept?

2009-08-25T23:15:00.000-07:00

So there's this woman that is in our ward/neighborhood.

I can't figure her out, and have pretty much given up, and given her a wide berth so I don't have to interact with her much. I have tried in the past to be reach out to her - but it is clear she's a different kind of cookie.

She's the woman that refuses to teach in primary because she's with her kids all week.
She's the former lawyer who won't stop reminding you that she was a former lawyer.
She's the one that only likes to be up there demonstrating, as a gospel doctrine teacher, how smart she is, or how connected she is to GAs...etc...
She's the one that doesn't talk to you, if you're not important enough when there are other more important people (in her eyes) around.
She's the one that if you're a new move-in she'll only talk to you if you are sporting the labels of material success.
She's the one that if you say hello to her in the hallways of church she ignores you.

She's the one that has announced publicly how dissatisfied she is with her husband.

So - despite all that... I try to be nice when I'm around her...I know... I'm silly.

Turns out her daughter is in my daughter's kindergarten class. Her daughter is adorable - she looks like the little "who" girl from The Grinch that Stole Christmas... the little upturned nose.

I mentioned to her - and my other friend (the one that used to be a lawyer but doesn't keep dwelling on it...) how great my daughter's teacher was - going the extra mile etc... (that I mention in this most recent post).

Her reaction was a bit shocking.

QS: Isn't that amazing? I was so touched by the teacher. She really went the extra-mile.

The Grinch Lady: So she's going to wear her glasses... why? What is that going to do?

QS: I imagine it might make my daughter feel more comfortable - accepted.

The Grinch Lady: Well, that's too bad for the good kids when the teacher spends so much time tending to the problem children.

I didn't know what to say or how to react - this was not the perspective I had. Nor was it a normal reaction I anticipated. I had related the experience with the teacher to a friend of mine who is not LDS... has polar opposite political views...and she nearly started crying along with me.

I returned home and told my hubby about this - and he is of the assumption that she is incredibly awkward... but in this case he just shook his head and mumbled something.

I had no idea that a child who needs a little time, acceptance and kindness was a problem child. I can't tell if she's thoughtless, jealous, disdainful or just plain rude.

She later talked about her son who is being teased because of his math skills. Apparently he knows math the other kids don't. She talked about how he wanted to learn more math skills - and she was having a hard time remembering the more advanced stuff and thought to herself - do you really want to continue along this line ...you'll only be mocked.

I was the listener telling her how great it is to have a son who wants to learn... she was just kind of... bleh about it.

Weird.

Lord, please grant me patience.

Empty nests are for the birds

2009-07-05T15:39:00.000-07:00

My nest isn't completely empty yet, but for the past two weeks I've been down two instead of just one. Birdie number three has been busy doing fireworks stands and concessions (during which she rather skillfully stalked the Jonas Brothers--such stalking included removing Nick's used straw from a watered-down drink left in their hospitality suite and helping a friend successfully impersonate Selena Gomez in order to extract intel from one of the security guards--I'm both mad and impressed) and the husband took birdie number four camping for a couple of days so it's definitely been a bit too quiet around here.

And when the birdies fly their friends fly too, so the loss is, well, exponential.

At first I was all about taking care of business (in fact, I completely bailed on the usual 4th of July festivities until last night--I know this is sick and wrong, but I just wanted to clean my kitchen). However I'm beginning to suspect that my usual rationalization for living in a state of manageable chaos is a rather good one:

The problem with getting things done is eventually they will all get done and if one doesn't have little (or even big) birdies around to undo it all, at some point one will run out of things to do.

And then what?

I would never say that someone else is not a good mommy. Still...

2009-06-11T15:54:00.000-07:00

I mean, the kid clearly won't drink so much water that she dies, so there is that.

Have you read this already?

2009-05-16T13:08:00.000-07:00

Sorry to post an old article. It's almost one year old. (Must be recirculating due to Mother's day?) It hardly seems outdated, though. In fact, I think it is a great intro to the study of the long term effects of "feminism". The very daughter of one of the figureheads of the women's rights movement, Alice Walker, talks about the conflicting and confusing elements of her own life and how they shaped her desires to not only become a mother...but to ENJOY motherhood.

Enlightening? Yes.
Thought provoking? Definitely.
Worthy of a mouse click and a response in the comments? Please, do!

I am dying to hear your thoughts.

In which I really, really stop swearing

2009-04-08T08:52:00.001-07:00

A few weeks ago I took li'l ~j. shopping. It was a Saturday, and we went to a place I had never been before, but had heard about good deals and whatnot. It was the kind of outlet store which included furniture, bedding, trinkets, jewelry, and clothes that would never fit yours truly.

We found a few items for li'l ~j. to try on, and we went into the changing room (she'll be 10 next week -- she still wants me with her in the fitting room). While she was getting dressed, she was talking. Talking, talking, talking. I know that children don't always have the most fascinating things to say when they're that age, but I make the effort to let her know that I'm really listening, that I really hear what she's saying. (This takes much effort on my part.) She was telling me about a conversation she had with a girl at school . . .

"...and she told me, 'ALL' grown-ups swear,' and I told her, 'Not all of them,' and she said, 'I'll bet you a million dollars that they do,' and I said, 'Sure!' and we shook hands and then she said, 'Okay, now give me a million dollars,' and I told her, 'You're wrong, I KNOW that my mom doesn't swear,' and she said, 'I bet she does,' and I said, 'I think I know my mom better than you do, and I promise that she doesn't swear.' Right, Mom?"

*ahem*

"Right."

Starting now.

I heard her that time.

How Dare You Feed Me Minced Fish!!?!

2009-03-31T13:55:00.000-07:00

Have you seen this commercial?

It makes me SO angry.

Initially, I was cheesed because of the dialogue. I mean, who thinks it cute for a little girl to speak to her mother that way? Not me. If Jooj talked to me like that (being honest--WHEN Jooj talks to me like that) she gets disciplined. Because it is not okay. Because I am the mom and she is not. And if I want to buy her minced fish then, by gum, she will eat it and shut up about it. Because she is four, and minced fish is not any worse than whole fish sticks. Fish sticks are fish sticks. In fact, in order to mince fish the manufacturer has to use BETTER fish to begin with, because lesser-quality fish won't hold up through the mincing process.

About the third time I saw this, though, I realized there was much more to it than the sassy little sasspot bossing her mother around. The thing that makes me the angriest about this commercial is that it is designed to make mothers feel guilty about feeding their children something "inferior." Which is total crap. I know that it is a tried-and-true marketing technique, but there is something about the child blatantly telling her mother that she is terrible for her fish purchase that enrages me. It makes me never want to buy this brand ever again.

But, really, this is not about fish sticks. It is about tapping into the guilt that mommies face every day. It is about advertisers pushing the idea that whatever a mother does, it is never enough. Not only are we expected to bear and raise and teach and nurture our young, but we had better do it with the most expensive, modern products available. For Pete's sake, they are applying the whole Madonna/Whore concept to FISH FINGERS.

And this is why I yell at my television.

Sometimes it is Okay to Feel Superior

2009-03-21T19:48:00.001-07:00

God love her, I am so glad that this is not me or my child. Bless her heart.
Mummy's Little Lolita

(hopefully) there are no small things

2009-03-19T07:20:00.000-07:00

There are lots of things I don't get right about mothering. Some of it is a reaction to my own childhood (I will never ever force my child to eat). Some of it is because I'm more suited to being a slacker mom than a helicopter mom. I'm not beating myself up about it here, it is what it is.

But every now and then I get something right. And what I love about getting something right is that instant reward you see in your child's eyes.

Today is one of L~'s best friend's birthdays. Her name is Alisa. And I love this girl. There are weeks and weekends in which she practically lives at my house (another story for another day). Not only is she a lot of fun, but when L~ is a real snot, Alisa always says to her "Don't treat your mom like that." She's a year younger than L~, so I have a lot of respect for her standing up for me like that.

This morning L~ came in and woke me up (usually I would have been first up, but I stayed up too late last night reading about my new love--forensic anthropology). She'd had good intentions to get Alisa some balloons for her birthday and take them to school (not allowed, but Shhhh. Don't tell.). I was half asleep and let her work out her own dilemma and go back to her room, disappointed, to get ready.

And then I thought about what a good friend Alisa is and I figured I had just enough time to run L~ to Macey's for balloons and drop her off at school. I knew it would mean a lot to L~ to be able to do something like that and thoughtfulness is something I want to encourage in my kids.

I really wanted to stay in bed, so I almost didn't do it.

But I willed myself to full consciousness and forced myself get up and find L~ to suggest my idea.

And there it was. That brief but rewarding sparkle in her eyes, where just for a moment, she perceived and registered the love behind my offer.

"Thank you," she said.

And she meant it.

I meant it, too.

2009-03-11T20:51:00.001-07:00

I am so tired of being a Bad Mommy. How do I know I am a Bad Mommy? Because my daughter keeps telling me. She is almost four.

I try my hardest every doggone day. Some days my hardest is pretty pathetic. Some days it is near-heroic.

And every day she cries for her father, her grandparents, her cousins. She tells me "I don't like you." She hits and fights and lies refuses to listen and I am so incredibly sick of it.

I know that there is nothing that can take the place of the mother, but I am at the point where I would be willing to test that statement.

I know that she is only four; I know that she doesn't understand all of what she is saying and doing. I know that she certainly doesn't mean to break my heart every single night. But I also know that other kids don't seem to be doing this. Other kids are talking about Jesus and helping and being like Mommy.

Which means that every night I get on my knees, sometimes in tears, and pray to know what I am doing wrong.

Because it only takes 15 minuts for dinner... uh huh...riiiiiigggght...

2009-01-05T22:51:00.000-08:00

Did you know that potty-training takes NO EFFORT?

Did you know that latching a baby also takes NO EFFORT?

Writing a series of novels, with baby on my lap takes NO EFFORT whatsoever? The characters just speak and I am the stenographer....

Well guess what? Yep - FAMILY SCRIPTURE READING TAKES ....wait for it... NO EFFORT!

Here's how:

6p: Dinner (no TV after dinner)

6:15: Tidy house up

6:45: Bath / get ready for bed (mom and dad too)

7pm: Meet in mom & dads room for scripture study

7:30: Family prayer

7:30: Bed

IT WORKS WITHOUT EFFORT!

I don't know about you...but dinner takes longer than 15 min for my family... and we have one less than them. Also... really? 5 people - with three kids under the age of 8... only 15 min for baths and teeth brushing...etc...? REALLY? REALLY?!

... this is not a joke - this was an email sent to our Relief Society blast list by a woman in our ward who is... for lack of a better word - delusional. She and her husband would leave their kids at Church on Sunday... so when we had to find them because the kids were acting up ... they were no where to be found. Yep - free babysitting on Sundays baby.

But... don't you all feel better now? NO EFFORT... NONE... YIPEE...

Do You Believe in Christmas Miracles?

2008-12-15T12:50:00.000-08:00

I do....

Boy, 4, breaks into Texas store, plays with toys

BEAUMONT, Texas (AP) - Police called to a variety store by a burglar alarm overnight found a toddler inside, playing with the toys. Police said store surveillance video showed the unidentified boy trying to open one of the front doors to a Family Dollar store about 3 a.m. Monday, only to find it locked. But the second door was unlocked and the child went inside.
That triggered the silent alarm.
Detective Randy Stevens said the child apparently unlocked a door at his nearby home, got out, then crossed a multilane street to reach the store.
A canvass of the neighborhood turned up a family member searching for the child.
CPS spokeswoman Shari Pulliam said Child Protective Services claimed oversight of a 4-year-old boy during a review of the incident. The boy will be allowed to stay with other relatives, not the parents, during the CPS review period. link

THIS WAS NOT MY CHILD!

Sister Star

2008-12-13T00:01:00.000-08:00

My daughter has a star she watches in the south western sky. It's very bright, and she calls it her "sister star".
We've had a few discussions about it. She says when she sees it, she wonders if her birth mother is seeing it too. (Is it okay to admit that my earthly mama heart hurts a little when she says this?)
Tonight she and I were driving to pick up Pizza Hut for the boys, who were busily trying to finish framing the basement.
We were listening to music that was soothing and sweet and that tugged a little on the heart strings (thank you Mindy Gledhill). A song came on that was particularly touching. The volume was at a comfortable level, but the silence was deafening. I looked over at my daughter and noticed a tear spill out of the corner of her eye. I saw that her eyes were turned toward her star. I sucked back my own tears, swallowed hard and said, "Whatcha thinkin' about, Sis?"
She blinked a few times, then just let the tears come.
We launched into a conversation about her birth mother, the choice she had to make, what some of the possibilities would be had she not made that decision, and what a miracle our family is.
I wanted so much for it to be enough for her.
I want to be enough for her.
I've learned I have to be careful how I word things....I have to find a balance between letting her ask the questions she needs to ask, and answering them appropriately-but briefly, so I don't plant any seeds for her fragile, emotionally immature, and hormonally confused mind to go wild with. (does that make sense? I feel like I have to keep my answers light and cheery, I guess)
As we pulled into the parking space at Pizza Hut, she was ready for the conversation to be over. "Look Mom....I was crying just a second ago, and now I'm over it! Ha! Let's go get our pizza!"
I made a few mental notes:
1. Keep things light but honest
2. I Love her and that is enough
3. Embrace the star
4. Possibly ban Mindy Gledhill from our family ;)

I need a new baby

2008-11-29T09:46:00.001-08:00

This was the thought I had when I came downstairs and found that Jooj had emptied an entire bottle of round cupcake sprinkles on the Berber carpet.

"Man, if only we had a 9-month-old."

Because one of those would be thrilled to spend the afternoon picking up individual pastel balls and eating them.

good mommies

2008-11-16T11:33:00.000-08:00

You may have already seen this, but if not...

Extraordinary Mothers - Click here for another funny movie.

am I weird?

2008-11-15T15:42:00.000-08:00

Wait. Don't answer that.

Yesterday I ran into work for about an hour and a half (because I had to) and I mentioned how I was torn: I hate to pull PTO (which is silly, I know--I should be grateful to have it!) but at the same time I wanted to hurry home because I felt badly for my son, who is getting bored over being laid up after surgery.

A comment was made about my kid being old enough I didn't need to entertain him. I replied that I wanted to be home and that I did have a lot to do.

By the time I got home some of Z~'s friends had dropped by and they were all hanging out in my living room. (So I would have been perfectly fine staying at work.)

I offered them food. We visited while I went through the mail and cleaned up the dining room. And I realized it wasn't about my feeling the need to entertain. I really do want to be home when my kids are home.

I like spending time with my kids.

Is that so weird?

Heels

2008-11-04T19:27:00.000-08:00

I must admit I rolled my eyes when Sissy G put on a pair of strappy 4 inch heels to go to Sam's Club with me today.
I decided it was a battle I'd rather not fight and agreed to let her wear them....certain she would take them off within minutes for comfort's sake.
I was wrong...my girly girl not only wore them the entire shopping trip, but strode, strutted, and glided in them like a runway model!!
I don't encourage this. In fact, I think heels--while they look pretty and make your legs look better--are ridiculous in everyday living. (It doesn't mean if you wear them I think YOU are ridiculous) I think they are going to ruin your feet. That's all I'm sayin'.
I'm uber practical. I'm busy. I work hard. And I can't be bothered with feet that hurt!
(It doesn't mean if you wear them I think you aren't any of the above)
At 12 years old, she's already 5'4". Her birthmother was 5'11" and the birthfather was nearly 7'. She is going to be tall. Heels may not be something she is interested in for much longer.

When a fun song with a good beat came on overhead, I looked over and Sissy Girl was dancing in her fancy heels like no one was watching. With twirls, chass'es, and step ball changes.

Oh, to be that uninhibited....

We went to the shoe store later. I bought myself a nice pair of practical flats and two pairs of adorable peep toe heels for her.

I know I won't always delight in our differences...but I have a feeling my dear daughter will be teaching me a thing or two about style.....and substance.

The Best Mommy Ever

2008-10-26T18:31:00.001-07:00

I was just on the phone with my favorite Good Mommy, and I heard her say the following disciplinary phrase:

"No. No. No. No. No. No. No. If you want me to say it again, I will. And you will be grounded."

Isn't that just the best thing you have ever heard?

Do, re, me, me, ME

2008-10-18T07:09:00.000-07:00

I read this today and it hit me hard: The me, me, me generation: Have youths in America bought into 'entitlement' mentality?

Right between the eyes hard.

I've started a discussion over on my latest blog, but I don't care where you deposit your two cents, I just want to talk about it.

pa rum pum pum pum

2008-10-14T23:22:00.000-07:00

After almost 12 years of an education in which everything except for refraining from being the class clown has come way too easy to him, my senior told me this tonight:

"I want to work my tail off in private lessons with Dan and try out for the BYU marching band drumline."

This on the heels of four first places in five marching band competitions this season.

Over the past year I've seen him stick with something hard and often unfun, during a messy transition between a band teacher he loved and one who was hired because he was the complete opposite. Even when almost all of his friends dropped out. I've seen him step up as section leader and take charge over a bunch of silly and inexperienced 14-year-olds. I've seen him have to work at something and taste the satisfaction that can come from hard-earned success.

I've seen him start to grow up.

Music to my momma ears.

you say today is saturday?

2008-09-30T12:07:00.000-07:00

My fourth-grader calls me at LEAST three times a week from school because she "feels sick and almost threw up".

Sometimes I let her come home, after which I make her sit on her bed. After a nap (that she needs because she stalled for three hours at bedtime last night, a fact which is neither here nor there), she gets up and "FEELS FINE!" And then the remainder of my afternoon/evening is spent reminding her that the reason she can't go outside is because she's sick...remember?

I'm done letting her come home.

Today when she called, I told her to go back to class and Take It Easy, and to come home when school is over. I figure that if she was really sick, a nurse or a teacher or someone other than Herself will get on the phone and tell me about it.

HOW DO YOU HANDLE THESE SITUATIONS??

More specifically, IF YOU'VE WORKED IN A SCHOOL, PLEASE TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL WHEN KIDS CALL HOME BECAUSE THEY'RE SICK AND THEIR PARENTS MAKE THEM STAY AT SCHOOL.

Zero to Sixty and Back Again

2008-09-24T14:52:00.001-07:00

Yesterday Dora was talking about what she wanted to be when she grew up. She turned to the audience and yelled "What do YOU want to be when you grow up?" And Jooj answered "Jooj wants to be a mommy!"

YES!

A few hours later when watching it again, Dora turned to the audience and yelled "What do YOU want to be when you grow up?" And Jooj answered "Jooj wants to be a ChooChoo Twain."

And we're back.

I really hope that the recording angels were paying attention EARLIER on in the day.

Bad, bad mommy!

2008-09-23T06:06:00.000-07:00

My 17-year-old son has his first girlfriend. He made me swear to him I wouldn't blog about it, so that's all you get except for the fact that the worrier in me now works overtime.

So am I a bad mom for hoping things don't work out, even if it means he gets his heart broken?

Better him than me, right?

(Don't tell him I said that.)

Got Milk?

2008-09-18T12:41:00.000-07:00

Lactation may prove lucrative...? At least in the Switzerland. Check it out.

I still got it...

2008-09-11T05:45:00.000-07:00

I dropped Oldest off at driver's ed this morning.
He leaned over and gave me a sqeeze and said, "I love you, mom!"
And then...

He kissed me on my cheek!

He's very affectionate but hasn't been into kissing his mom for quite a while now.
And, if you knew how much we've been on each others nerves lately, you'd know why it meant so much to me.

I love that I'm still his Queen Mum.

Where did I go?

2008-09-07T17:50:00.001-07:00

W and I are in the process of applying for our second adoption. One of the last things we have to do is write the "Pick us!!" letter to the birth parents. We are using the old one--because it is good and in the three years since we wrote it Jooj has made my brain hurt a lot-but updating it to reflect our current situations. (Like the part that says "We will never spank." Oh, the laughter when I re-read that part!) The format we used was: I wrote a paragraph introducing W, he wrote one for me, and then I wrote the rest about our belief systems, etc. It worked.

When W wrote the paragraph about me the last time it was all "Jen is so educated!" and "Masters!" and "Smart" and "Hot!" (Not really, but I read between the lines) and "Strong and Capable!" and "REALLY smart!".

He just emailed me the update and here is what it says now: "Good mother!" "Preschool and Playgroup!" "Takes kid to soccer!" "Mom!" and "Jooj's Mom!"

Apparently I have vanished in three years.

I don't know where I went (I certainly haven't gotten any smaller physically) and I don't know when it happened. There was a point where I desperately wanted to be someone's mom--anyone's mom! And it is not like I want to go back to that place (although I am often tempted) but there has got to be a place where "Mom" and "Me" co-exist.

Have you found that place? Where is it? How did you get there?

I'm doing it wrong

2008-09-03T06:30:00.000-07:00

Last night I came home from ward temple night and then had to go run a couple of errands and do my grocery shopping. Which meant it was after 10 p.m. when I got home and found my nine-year-old just starting his homework and my 13-year-old yet to start. Argh! I felt like one of those people at Wal-Mart who take their kids shopping after 11 p.m. and then are cross with them because they're misbehaving.

Obviously that's much too late for a nine-year-old (even the youngest child nine-year-old who is used to later nights) so he was cranky and then I got cranky. I was frustrated with him for not doing it earlier (but also frustrated with myself for not being home to encourage him) and frustrated with my daughter for not doing hers earlier and just frustrated overall that my life doesn't run as smoothly as the freaking Brady Bunch show.

So I declared martial law and ranted and raved a bit--I'll say this for myself, there was no actual yelling, but what good did that do when yelling was perceived--and then things got worse.

Does this sound familiar? "Why should I even try when I'm going to get yelled out anyway?!"

I have to admit that despite the phone calls from the Foods teacher that L~ is being disruptive (to be fair, she called almost every parent in the class because the whole class is disruptive, but I know L~ and am sure she is one of the leaders of the band), L~ has been doing a much better job this year. While I still have issues with her (namely her attitude and her occasional bold-faced lies), I recognize she is making an effort. While having a 4.0 just two and a half weeks into the school year isn't a big deal for some, it certainly is for her. And, having been 13 before, I realized immediately I made a big mistake getting after her for something she was really doing well.

Huge mistake.

What did I do about it? I apologized. And I told her she was doing a good job.

Let's just say she did not accept it gracefully.

This morning when she got up she was a little more cheerful (mornings are another thing she has been doing better). I told her, "When I was your age I would have given the world to hear my parents apologize to me when they were wrong. And they were wrong sometimes. And sometimes so am I. I am proud of you, but I do make mistakes. And when I do I will apologize. You need to learn to accept an apology more graciously."

I don't know if she really got it, but it needed to be said.

It also needs to be said that kids do need to be caught doing good. Especially teenage kids. Sometimes you have to look a little harder to see the good, but they need to hear about it when you notice it.

I'm going to work harder to see and acknowledge the good.

Proud

2008-08-16T20:45:00.001-07:00

I don't know if this has anything to do with my mothering-nor do I want the credit if it does, but....
I got a phone call today from a dad. He was RSVP-ing for his son, whom he said would be attending my son's big 16th birthday bash.
Frankly, I thought it was kinda weird. The dad called?
Tonight, when Oldest got home, I told him the kid was coming. He said, "Oh, cool!"
I asked him who he was and wasn't it kinda weird his dad called?
He said (and here's the proud part) "He's a kid on my football team. He's quite a large kid. Nobody talks to him. He doesn't have many friends. But, I think he's cool....so I wanted to invite him."
Just when he's about on my last nerve......he goes and melts my heart into a pool of mush.

No Matter What Else Happens Today, I am a Very Good Mommy

2008-08-09T15:25:00.001-07:00

Jooj (age 3) couldn't find her security blanket, because she had taken every single toy and article of clothing out and piled it on the floor. As we were looking she exclaimed (with one finger pointing in the air)

"Mami! I know! We say prayer to Heavenly Father to find me Seepy!"

And so we did, and so (of course)we did.

Kids need to get air and have fun

2008-08-07T14:15:00.000-07:00

...Just ask Grandma... Click HERE

Unprepared

2008-07-21T23:49:00.000-07:00

My daughter became a young woman tonight.
At the Fiesta Days Rodeo.
In the port-a-potty.
(for some reason, this sounds skeezy...I mean it in the no-she-wasn't-in-there-with-a-boy kind of way!)

She came back into the Grandstand to our spot on the bench with big smile on her face and whispered it to me. I wasn't sure if I believed her nor did I want to have the full on conversation with her 13 year old brother sitting in between us.

I leaned over, placed my hand on Hoss' cheek and pulled his head close to my face and whispered it to him. All the color left his face, his eyes got real big, and he said, "She what?" Oh, you just wait....I don't think daddy's are ever ready to hear that their little girl's not so little any more.

After I got past the initial shock and the giggling to myself over what a fantastic journal entry it would be for her:
Dear Diary, tonight I got my first period in the port-a-potty at the Rodeo...
I started to feel a little panicky!
A few things came to mind:
Her reaction is a million times the opposite of my reaction.
She's all excited!
She couldn't wait to tell me.
I could have died!
I waited as long as I could before mumbling something to my mother.
I guess we'll have to stop at the store on the way home.
What do I get her?
The last time I had a period, there were only a few options: cardboard applicator, no applicator, and something like unto a diaper!
That was before 'wings' and ultra thins.
What works best right at first?
I'm starting to sound like a dad, not a mom......
It's just that I've been without periods now for longer than I had them.
Things aren't ever going to be the same at our house.
Ugh....her brothers......they need to be instructed too.
I guess it doesn't matter if I'm ready or not.....Aunt Flow is here.

command climate (sorry--is it stealing if I credit the source? Thanks W.)

2008-07-20T06:02:00.001-07:00

La yen's husband just posted an excellent and thought-provoking post about Army leadership. Why am I bringing it up here? Because the philosophy behind the type of "command climate" he discusses has been the foundation for some of my parenting beliefs and the way I try to parent. I want us to discuss.

These are the questions W. asked (replace "soldiers" with "children"):

"What are you doing to motivate your Soldiers? Do they work for you out of a fear of repercussion or out of respect for you? Do they trust that you are tactically and technically proficient, that you know the mission and your unit's role in it? Do they feel that you are actively protecting their interests and placing their needs above your own? Do you praise in public and punish in private? Do you conduct frequent counselings, either formal or informal, to let those around you know where they stand?
"

When I was a kid I obeyed mostly out of fear. It was the belt or the boot if I was way out of line (please don't get the wrong idea about my parents--they were and are good people--they were just doing it how it was done back then). But I felt conflicted about it. I remember as a child contemplating how I would want my kids to respect me because I deserved it, not because they were afraid of me; I wanted them to obey out of love, respect and goodness, not out of fear.

As I said I've only been moderately (on some days barely--last night hardly) successful at parenting in this way. There have been shortcomings and failures. But at the same time it feels right to me. And I have witnessed moments of goodness, honesty and genuineness (sometimes even when the rest of the outcome was not exactly what I intended) that pleased me and made me feel good about my beliefs and my efforts.

What do you think about this style of parenting? Are the results desirable? Could side affects or unintended consequences occur? Is it possible and/or practical to achieve with a three-year-old? What about a thirteen-year-old? How does one accomplish this style of parenting? What are the day-to-day applications?

What command climate do you seek as a mother. How do you attain it?

Skilled at Terrorist Negotiations..

2008-07-19T18:04:00.001-07:00

My sister started to blog again (hurrah). I have lots of sisters and they all should blog, but only two of them do (FOR NOW...). In my never ending quest to stay connected to my family, as well as to assure myself that I am not the only one in the family that has stories like this, I am posting this link here. Leave a comment for her on her blog. I need her to keep blogging and she has NEVER had anyone besides family comment on her blogs before.... If she gets addicted to them, we will get more Sam/Thomas stories and I will be reminded that my kids are normal. One of our sisters has freakishly well behaved children and it sets a bad standard for the rest of us....

So, this post by my sister Nienie had me snorting. She is describing what it is like to go shopping with her two little boys, ages 4 and 2. It was a very familiar story, but a much funnier way of telling it.

I can't get my hyperlinks to work... so here is the long, very un-tech link...

http://thewrenbirds.blogspot.com/

choosing your battles

2008-07-19T09:27:00.000-07:00

I've found another plus side to choosing your battles. You know, besides the fact that I am happier and my kids are happier and who has the energy to fight about everything anyway?!

Sometimes you get to relish tiny victories.

Any of you who read my blog are aware of my frustration over our middle school's new dress code. I think the fact that I went to bat for what I believed was right helped my daughter feel I am on her side. (Which I am, but most especially when she is right.)

However, as much as I believe in standing up for what's right, I also believe in honoring, obeying and sustaining the law. So I've been wondering how to handle my conflictedness about this issue come the first day of school.

I chose to ease into the subject, mentioning that collared (yeah, I keep wanting to type: collard)shirts were on sale and that we ought to prepare now for the first week of school. I wanted to make sure she was clear that I assumed she would (eventually) comply (because I am most definitely not going to commute to another school).

I was surprised to learn she has already come up with a brilliant plan:

Based on past experience, she doesn't expect they'll enforce the new dress code any better than they enforced the prior one; she doesn't want me to spend too much money; and she still wants to make her point. So she asked me to buy only a couple of collared shirts for now. She plans to wear her favorite tie-dyed T-shirt to school on the first day in protest and in order to test the system. (Call me a rebel, but I'm fine with that.) I explained to her what the administration has posted by way of action for non-compliance: They will call home and then give the student something to wear. (I am working on my protest speech for the non-compliance call even now.) L~ intends to take a wait and see approach. If they call her out she will accept the shirt they give her but instead of wearing it she will wear the one I have purchased for her, which she will have hidden in her backpack.

Fair enough.

But the sweetest victory came last night when we were out shopping. While she did complain a bit about how blah! the collared shirts were, she has already found a way to comply while still fulfilling her need to express herself. The first thing she said as we started sifting through the sale rack was, "OK mom, but the first thing we have to do is take off all the buttons and find some cool ones to replace them with."

I bought a packaged of bold and bright-colored buttons first thing this morning.

Take that Dixon! I love this kid!!

Too Happy to be comfortable

2008-07-15T13:56:00.001-07:00

I have Stegner's books on my book shelf... I guess it's time to dust 'em off and read them.

I saw this post and think it follows the same vein of discussion.

I Married Pretty Well.

2008-07-12T08:30:00.000-07:00

This is an email I got from my husband this morning, and I thought it was pretty appropriate for this site. So, props to the absentee father, W.

I am here at work this Saturday morning, and am consciously taking it easy by looking around the net for things that make me think of you. And as I was reading a couple of blogs, I linked to kottke.org, a pretty interesting blog about random things. I saw this blog about kids and parenting and how it's not all it's cracked up to be. And it made me think about you, and how we were talking last night, and how you are feeling bad because you can't do all the things you used to be able to do. Here's an excerpt:

"The cliché refers to newborn children as "bundles of joy," but recent research indicates that bundles of anxiety, or even bundles of depression, might be more accurate

"Parents "definitely experienced more depression," says Robin Simon, a sociologist at Florida State University who has studied data on parenting.

"Part of our cultural beliefs is that we derive all this joy from kids," says Simon. "It's really hard for people who don't feel this to admit it." Social pressures to view only the positive aspects of child rearing only make the problem worse, she says. "They're afraid to admit it because it runs so counter to our cultural beliefs that children make you happy."

Simon points out what any parent knows very well: Children, especially young children, can create lots of work and stress. "There are very many positive things that come out of having kids, but it's a mixed bag," she says. "They are demanding. They are a responsibility, and it's a responsibility that doesn't end."

And I thought about you and us and how you keep saying that Jooj is so good and you shouldn't be mad/sad/upset/frustrated. And I think that you're selling yourself a bill of goods. Kids are hard. They are depressing, and are TONS of work. I know this just from the (sadly) limited interaction I get with her, and have been feeling pretty bad about wanting to curse at her in the two hours a day I spent with her by myself when I was home.

Don't get me wrong- I want kids. I love Jooj and I know that we're unbelievably blessed to have her in our family, and she is rewarding and awesome. Here's another excerpt:

Changing a diaper isn't enjoyable, and teenagers can be such a pain in the ass, but having kids can also be a profound source of meaning for people. (I like the amateur marathoner metaphor: survey a marathoner in the midst of the race and they'll complain about their legs and that rash and how the race seems like it's taking forever. But when the running is over they are always incredibly proud of their accomplishment. Having kids, then, is like a marathon that lasts 18 years.)

Bottom line is, I am proud of you. I don't begrudge you feeling bad, and modern science doesn't either. Parents, and especially Mormon mothers, get a lot of pressure from a lot of angles to treat kids as shiny delicate glass balls full of pixie dust and platinum that should be set on a shrine in the living room like some sort of Asian family altar, and I completely disagree. For my money, it's ok to think of them as poopy, whiny, snotty, loud little blessings. It's ok to be frustrated and mad, and it's ok to secretly wish that your life is the way it used to be. Because at the end of the day, you're a great mom and you're doing a great job with Jooj.

That's all. I love you.

bonus: opposable thumbs

2008-06-17T02:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had two things happen that I think the younger version of MommyMe would have found absolutely mortifying. Yet . . . the current version of MommyMe is confidently grateful for how each situation played out.

First scenario: I had gone to pick up one daughter from Reading Camp at school and left my oldest in charge of the sleeping one and the 4 year old (I had brought the newborn with me). Upon driving into our neighborhood I phoned my oldest to let her know that I was arriving and to ask her to please open the garage for me (our opener is broken, and all the doors were triple-locked, as is her pleasure). When the garage door was open, I began to pull forward when my four year old, all bright-eyed and happy, opened the kitchen door and began to walk towards me. So I layed on the horn. Scared the crap out of her. She started bawling. This is where OldMommyMe would have felt so, so bad -- for scaring her, for making her cry. Instead, NowMommyMe immediately had the thought: "Good. She should be scared of this. And that was my intent: to scare her away from a moving vehicle."

Second scenario: I had to go to the market last night (yes, I call the grocery store 'the market') and oldest wanted to go with me. While I was doing the math in my head to add up the possibe combinations of 24 oz. or fewer of cereal, she asked if she could have an ice cream cone (from the deli). I gave her $2, told her to get two small cones, and then come find me. Since so many in my town spend their family night at the market, it was kind of crowded, but I moved swiftly to get the things I needed. Upon arriving near the milk, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the incoming number. "Hello?"

"Hi. Your daughter says she's lost you. We're at the store."

"Oh! Thank you. I'm by the milk."

"I'll let her know."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

A few seconds later I saw her wheeling towards me, holding an ice cream cone in each hand. She was not smiling. I greeted her warmly and asked what happened. With tears in her eyes she told me that she couldn't find me so she looked for a mommy with kids for help.

Exactly what I've taught her to do.

OldMommyMe would have broken down and cried, a little from embarrassment, but mainly from the negative, scary thoughts of what could have happened. NowMommyMe was swelling with pride and comfort that my daughter had done the absolute right thing, showing that she'd know what to do in a more serious situation.

And now . . . yes, it really is 4:something in the morning . . . NowMommyMe is getting ready for a (mortifying) marathon day at Primary Children's Hospital involving all sorts of tests -- an experience that OldMommyMe wouldn't even be able to comprehend.

no burying over here!

2008-06-13T08:21:00.000-07:00

Something I just discovered I can do: hold back her hair so she can throw up into the toilet WHILE I'm breastfeeding the other one.

In what ways do YOU multi-task??

cuz i'm nice like that

2008-06-12T08:00:00.001-07:00

L~ went up to Mia Shalom this week for girls camp. Keep in mind every other stake has been scrambling like crazy to reschedule or cancel or make plans elsewhere. Cuz baby it's cooooold up there. And muddy. And snowy.

L~ insisted on packing herself and would not let me oversee. She promised me she had enough warm clothes and had packed all of her hoodies and then she told me to bug off (rather nicely, though). So I did.

But that didn't stop me from sneaking a heavy down coat to her YW leader before they left on Tuesday. And a love note.

This morning I was cleaning her room to surprise her (because every time I leave on vacation the one thing I want to come home to is a clean house) and I found all of her hoodies.

Except one.

Hmmmm.

I am a good mommy.

Bad Mommy...

2008-06-07T00:47:00.000-07:00

Confession.

So last weekend I had this feeling I needed to take my flu virus ridden 20 month old to the urgent care center to have her ears checked out. She hadn't been sleeping well and felt miserable.

But... I figured since her big sister who's prone to ear infections came back from her appointment that Mon without an ear infection... and a Daddy who took her saying "I told you so".... that I was just being my typical over-reacting self.

You should see how often I go to the doctor... I'm a little nuts.

Finally on Tuesday I take my poor ... baggy eyed baby to the doctor. She has an ear infection. The left is worse than the right...and I am devastated.

I feel like the meanest mommy in the world. The doctor knows me well enough that he tries to pretend he doesn't seem me with the tears...he tells me not to crucify myself.

I know better... I know that when she was up every hour for a boobie I was getting grumpy-tired. I know that even though she stuck to me like glue every morning and I loved it...I was also trying to figure out how I could distract her so I could get chores done.

All I could do was kiss my baby and tell her I was sorry. Oh...and apologize for being so mean and agreeing when her Daddy said to turn off the monitor at night... he said she'd need to learn to cry it out and learn to sleep. This was before we knew for sure it was an ear infection... but she was still sick. I let him do that... what is wrong with me? She was in pain and needed me.

Anyway... my little wake up call to trust my instinct ...and always better to be sure. Poor baby - she's my little happy one that loves to turn to smile at me.

Brace Yourself

2008-06-06T16:44:00.000-07:00

I took Sissy G. to get her braces off today.
We've been waiting for this day for 20 days shy of 2 years.
I knew we'd both be wowed, but I wasn't prepared for this:

She opened her mouth into a slick, smooth, shiny white smile.
Tears welled up in my eyes and I took in a quick deep breath.......
She looks exactly like her Birth Mother.

In that instant, I was taken back to a hotter summer day in 1996. Hoss and I had made the drive to the hometown of the woman who gave her birth.
We met our attorney in the hotel lobby and drove to her parents' home, where she lived.
We pulled up and she was leaning on the car of a new boy friend's. She glanced at us and went back to finishing up her conversation. Eventually, making her way over to us.

The hours, events, and emotions that followed over the next 24 hours came rushing back to me today. Sissy G.'s was the only Birth Mother we met of our three children. It was also the most difficult adoption experience of the three. On one hand, especially after meeting and seeing what could have been the rest of her life, we KNEW it was right. She was meant to be with us. No question. But, at the end of that 24 hour period......taking her from the arms of the beautiful soul who created and grew her....also felt criminal.
I stared at her for as long as I could. Long enough that I could remember her features, but not so long that I creeped her out.

Today.....I stared at that face again.

It was bittersweet. Because, if I'm being honest, I forget that I didn't grow and give birth to my children. I get caught up in the birth stories my friends tell and always have to stop myself from jumping in......
Comforted by our Temple sealings, I know-- without shadow of doubt--that this was God's plan.
I would not have it any other way........my children are my children no matter how they came. But for a brief moment(s) in time......I wish someone else's heart didn't have to be broken. It's a feeling I can't really put well with words, I dunno.

I guess what I'm saying is.......wherever she is, I pray that Heavenly Father will whisper to her today, tell her how thankful I am.....how beautiful they both are......and that her choice was perfect.

Another "Parenting" Mag Inspired Subject...or Two

2008-06-04T12:01:00.000-07:00

I present to you ladies, two more topics inspired by Parenting magazine. They were both just too good to pass up!

Some excerpts from a book called Dirty Little Secrets From Otherwise Perfect Moms, by Trisha Ashworth and Amy Nobile:

"When I'm at Safeway, I buy a Nordstrom gift card and charge it as groceries. I can justify it that way." (Genius!)
"I lied and told my son's preschool that he was potty trained so he could get in. I acted surprised when he had an 'accident' every day."
"Once I realized my neighbors could hear me over the baby monitor (we were on the same frequency), I suddenly changed my tone and became 'Sweet, nice Mommy.'"
"I pass gas and blame it on the kids."
"I forgot to pick my boy up from kindergarten because I was too involved in a Vh1 Rockumentary."
"My kids don't wear pj's on weeknights. They go to bed in their school clothes so I don't have to fight with them about their outfits in the morning."

It's interesting to me that some people's "dirty little secrets" are hysterically funny to me (probably because I can relate!) .... while others I find, well, horrifying. Why is that??? Guess it just proves that everyone is just doing the best they can. AND every family is DIFFERENT!

What's your dirty little secret?

2. Ridiculous-Trend Alert:
Parents are getting their kids' school and other photos retouched- even for preschoolers!

What?!??!? Are you serious??? Ok question number two

What would you retouch on a photo of your kids, and why?

You're A Good Mom

2008-06-03T01:01:00.000-07:00

So I just had to share this book review that I found at Parenting.com (actually-- it came from a free Parenting magazine that was sent to me a while back. For some reason I get random free issues of Parenting magazine. Perhaps someone has taken pity on my poor children and signed me up for a "gift" subscription?)

What today's parenting lingo would have meant to our moms:

Floor time Time spent waxing the kitchen floor
Time-Out A short break during a sporting event, or taking a break from the laundry to watch Days of Our Lives
Kindergarten readiness Your kid's fifth birthday
Use your words "Knock it off, kids!"
Quality time Reading the paper in the car outside the theater where the kids are seeing The Bad News Bears
Teachable moments School

-From Your a Good Mom (And Your Kids Aren't So Bad Either), by Jen Singer

Call me old fashioned, but....

So THAT'S How We're Going to Play This...

2008-05-27T11:09:00.001-07:00

I bought The Jooj one of the $5 plastic golf sets from The-Mega-Store-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named the other day.

She promptly stuck her leg into the plastic golf bag and got it very stuck.

I promptly got my camera.

Then I realized just how wedged it was, and I got the Pam.

After we freed her battered little leg she told me "You gave me owies, Mami!"

I responded with "No, sweetie, YOU stuck your leg inside and Mami got you out. Mami helped you..."

And then she cut me off with a "Mami, just say you sorry!"

And so it begins. Do I need to write this on the calendar as "The day everything became my fault?" I BOUGHT her a new toy. I SHOWED her how to golf. I LET her hit the dog with a club one time to get it out of her system. I SPRAYED her with lubricant (the expensive baking kind, even!). And what do I get from this? Nothing but grief. Prior to this I was revising a post I had written about how there are some things only mothers can do--how we are the panaceas to so many of life's little hurts. And I am glad I didn't finish it because, apparently, I was all wrong. We are not the cure, we are the cause. Good to know.

It's all About the Spin

2008-05-09T18:05:00.000-07:00

Some would say I am a Bad Mommy for putting my kid to bed at 6:45 tonight, even though she probably was not all that tired.

I say that I am a Good Mommy because I understand my limits, and the ratio of toddler-to-sanity was skewing in a scary way.

What do you spin in order to get away with?

guest post: irrigation, irritation, irradiation

2008-05-03T06:52:00.000-07:00

The following is a guest post from one of my favorite bloggers, who finds herself in a dilemma:

Friends. I need some guidance.
If you are a regular visitor here, please advise.
If you are a lurker, please de-lurk and advise.
Anonymous comments are on. That doesn't mean anony can be mean.

We live in a rural area. We are surrounded by farms.
My boys, who are almost 16 and 13 were offered a job working on some acreage near us--moving irrigation pipe throughout the summer. The pay would work out to be significantly above minimum wage. It would not be every day, but just during the farmer's water turn. It would be 3 or 4 mornings (5:30-6:30 am) and then again in the evening (6:00-7:00 pm) several times throughout the watering months.

This all sounded great, until I found out who their foreman would be.

We have a Sex Offender in our area. We discovered this by searching the Sex Offenders' Web Site. We check out the site every time somebody new comes into the area or when the kids want to hang out at a new friend's house. If you are not scoping it out...you should.

As you have probably guessed, Chester is the foreman. I don't know what the situation is, all I know is that it happened in 1999 and his target is female minors.

When I stated my objection to offering up my boys to a secksual predator, I was met with eyerolling and some SERIOUS flack. "You have no idea what the situation was!" and "Jeez, give the guy a break!" and "MOM!! You're being ridiculous!" "Yeah, like we're gonna let him do anything to us!"

After a big discussion with the boys about never going anywhere with him and how predators work, etc. I agreed to let them go to work.

The other day, I got home from work and the boys told me they had their first day irrigating. I was kind of surprised that it had started already, but said (again with hesitation), "So, how was he?" (again with the eyerolling) "Okay," I said "As long as you don't ever get in a car with him." The boys looked at each other and said, "Too late." Mr. Chester has offered to come and pick us up and bring us home each time. (red flag) (this would mean about a 7 mile round trip for him twice a day).

I told them to call Mr. Chester and tell him I would be driving them. I drove them to the farm (2 miles straight down the road from us) and waited for them to finish. Hoss pulled up while I was waiting and wondered why I had brought them. "Chester offered to drive them." I blinked a few times and said, "Do you really think that is a good idea?" (eyerolling) "He's been re-baptized and repented and forgiven. It happened a long time ago. Give the guy a break.....haven't you ever done anything wrong before?"

"I have never diddled a child." was my answer.

He kept telling me that I was being ridiculous. I talked him through a few scenarios before saying, "Hoss. Let's just say that there is a good chance nothing would happen. But if something WERE to happen, could you forgive yourself?" He had to concede at that point.

Before going to bed last night, I asked Hoss if he would be willing to take them (I've been sick with the death of pneumonia and asthma and still continuing to work full time). "They can walk, or ride the bike." I reminded him we have one bike, two boys and it's freezing cold before dawn's crack. He didn't seem to mind. So, this morning at 5:15 am, I took the boys to their job, waited an hour for them to finish, and brought them home so they could be ready for school and I could get ready for work.

They all still think I'm being silly (except for Machine--he gets me, and has not given me an ounce of flack! Also, both of them were VERY grateful for a warm car to crawl into after braving the icy alfalfa this morning!).
I feel very strongly about it. As someone who was preyed upon by not just one predator-and survived to tell the tale.....I almost think I have a greater responsibility to protect my kids. I have FULL KNOWLEDGE of the risk and the fallout. I will continue to drive them (while it's cold-ish and dark) and will maybe let them ride the bike(s) when the weather gets better.

This is where you come in. Am I being ridiculous? What would you do?

Irradiate me with your wisdom.

Free Range Kids

2008-04-24T07:30:00.000-07:00

A mom called Lenore Skenazy has kicked up a fire storm of both condemnation and empathy for her call to return children's independence. What did she do?

She lets her kid ride the New York subways alone.

I don't think that Skenazy intended to be the most public face in the burgeoning movement to let our kids 'free range' again, but by going as public as to write a few columns about it, has made her the point person. Since the parenting trend has leaned towards more helicopter than free range, Skenazy has faced some serious condemnation.

Frankly, I agree with Skenazy. OUR KIDS HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS SAFE. Just because the media seizes on the one-in-a-million (literally) cases doesn't mean our kids are in constant danger. It's more likely that they will be harmed at home and by people they know than in any other way.

New York City, for instance, is safer than it's ever been; it's ranked 136th in crime among all American cities. Nationwide, stranger abductions are extremely rare; there's a one-in-a-million chance a child will be taken by a stranger, according to the Justice Department. And 90 percent of sexual abuse cases are committed by someone the child knows. Mortality rates from all causes, including disease and accidents, for American children are lower now than they were 25 years ago. according to Child Trends, a nonprofit, nonpartisan research group, between 1980 and 2003 death rates dropped by 44 percent for children ages five to 14 and 32 percent for teens aged 15 to 19.

Obviously, we should do what makes us comfortable, but for some of us, that's going to mean letting our kids walk to school by themselves, running to the store for errands (a loaf of bread, a container of milk, a stick of butter,) and letting them make some of their own decisions. I fully expect that in a couple years I'll wave goodbye to El Guille as he peddles off by himself to a friend's house or other activities. For her part, Lenore's son is nine years old, an age where I would feel utterly comfortable letting Guille go to school by himself.

Are we so nervous about what could happen that we don't let our kids experience the chance to manage their own time, make their own choices, and exercise independence?

I, for one, can't wait to start reading Lenore's blog, called appropriately Free Range Kids.

What are your thoughts?

Three Kids... you snob

2008-04-07T09:59:00.001-07:00

This article cracked me up...Click HERE.

Who knew more kids = Status - Populating Mormons beware.

My favorite quote: "The way we figure it, one day our children will be grateful for what we didn't give them -- and what we did for them instead."

Today, apparently, I simply suck

2008-03-25T06:25:00.000-07:00

Running out of incentives to induce good behavior, this morning, as she tore the house up and berated me because she wouldn't get out of bed in time to catch her ride, I calmly informed my daughter that although her replacement Converse Hi-Tops would arrive today, she would not be wearing them until she made it on time to jazz band practice for an entire week.

"You made a commitment to be in a band and that means attending practices," I stated emphatically.

"You made a commitment to be my mother and that's not working out so well, is it?" she screamed in my face.

Her words bite me still even as I type. It may be easy on the outside looking in to agree with her and tell me that this messy relationship is indeed my fault. If only I would handle things differently, lay down the law, spend more time with her, etc... I already get that from a couple of people in my ward (lesson #1: never judge a mother through the eyes of her 12-year-old daughter) to whom she is nothing but sweet and respectful and fun, and who, frankly, would be shocked if they witnessed one of her too-frequent tirades.

Sure there are days when I could handle things better. But I think the fact that no matter how bad it gets I don't usually yell back; I haven't smacked her across the face; I continue to calmly tell her "You're Welcome" and "Bye, I love you. Have a good day," as I drop her off to school (even on mornings when she's at her worst); and I haven't, as of yet, left home or wished the same upon her when she is a mother, speaks volumes about my commitment to be her mother.

I only hope I can see this through and that my commitment (unless she gets her way--which she doesn't always, because that's not always what's best for her--she chooses to not see the love) will be enough. On days like today I honestly wonder...

My own version of good, better, best:

2008-03-10T10:45:00.000-07:00

Good or good enough.

Your thoughts, please.

How do you balance being a Mommy with a member of a larger family?

2008-03-06T09:32:00.000-08:00

I just had to send out an email canceling our trip to California to see our families. I prayed about it, I know it was the right thing to do, but I just feel like a bad person. (I canceled it because Jooj has been really troubled lately with everything--sickness, tantrums, general sadness, everything. And she needs stability and quiet and sleep in her own bed. Not a vacation.)

Why am I feeling so guilty for disappointing my extended family, when I should be feeling proud for being the mother of my children, and putting my OWN family first?

How do you find a balance between the old relationships and roles and the new ones?

Move over, Brit

2008-02-12T09:35:00.000-08:00

Today I noticed that, overnight, Jooj had grown out of her pajama top, rendering it a half-shirt worthy of a guest appearance on TeenNick.

I think that her growth spurt is because I feed her so well. Take this morning:

What do you want for breakfast?

"Candy and peas."

Well, Okay. If you sit on the potty.

"And Pink soda."

Fine.

Wait, They Come That Way?

2008-01-24T15:26:00.000-08:00

"New research shows that in most cases the personalities displayed very early in life— as young as preschool — will stay with us into adulthood. The wallflowers will stay shy and reticent, though they will learn in time to be a little more sociable and assertive. And the average kids, the more resilient ones, will remain so. " source.

Dear Scientists,

Duh.

We know. You could have just asked your mom. She would have told you that you were born with your personality.

She then would have told you to make sure that you're saving at least 20% of your research money for a rainy day. Oh, and do you need some new socks? She saw some for sale last week in ShopKo but can't remember if you like the goldtoe or some ankle-highs. Call her as soon as you can because your Cousin Louise is coming into town and she'd like to see the kids.

Yours cordially,
Azucar

2008-01-21T08:53:00.000-08:00

Last night being a good mommy was incredibly hard. We talked, for the first time, about how she is adopted. It came about pretty naturally: We were talking about temples. I told her how she went to the temple with us when she was a baby, so that we could be her parents forever.

"Baby Jooj go to temple?"
"Yes."
"Baby Nora (her cousin) go to temple?"
"Well, no."
"Why?"

So we talked about how Baby Nora came out of Tia Amy's belly, so they didn't have to go to the temple. And Baby Jooj didn't come out of mommy's belly, so...

"Baby Jooj in you belly."
"No, Mami can't get babies in her belly. Mami's belly is broken."
"No! Baby Jooj go in YOU belly."
"No, honey, Mami's belly is broken, so Heavenly Father put Baby Jooj in Diana's belly. Then Diana brought you to us, because Mami and Papi and Jooj are a family."
"No, I go in YOU belly. No Diana."
"I wish you were in my belly, Jooj, but Mami's belly is broken."
"You belly need batteries?"
"Yes, Mami's belly needs special batteries."
"Oh. Es Ok?"
"Oh yes, Mami is ok. And Jooj is my baby forever."

And it was so hard.

I love my daughter, I love my family, and I love that, through adoption, I am able to have her with me. And I know that telling her about adoption is important--it is not like we can hide it and she can meet her twin at summer camp and switch places in order to reconnect her father and I in love and marriage and groovy guitar songs. But I didn't expect it to hurt my heart to tell her.

I so wanted to say "You came from my belly--you and me have been together, even as little tiny cells inside Grammy Su, forever. I felt you kick, I loved you every second of the day. I fed you with my every heart beat, and I pushed you out and held you the instant you were born. You are mine and will never feel the need to seek out another mother, another person who shares your cells."

But I couldn't. Because it isn't true.

I know that she loves me. I know she is MINE. But our talk last night was the start of my biggest fear--that she will not feel like she is mine entirely, any longer. I know we will talk about it again and again, and I worry that, each time, she will feel drawn to another woman, another family, another set of siblings. Maybe she won't--maybe we are enough for her. But the fear is there.

Go Ahead, Admit It

2008-01-09T11:14:00.001-08:00

Sometimes you have a favorite child.

she's really gonna hate me for this

2007-12-02T17:41:00.000-08:00

But I just have to share with you something I found written by my 12-year-old daughter. It looks like it must have been an assignment for school. It reads as follows:

When I look in the mirror I see a really cool person. I see a sort of tall, smart, Athletic, musical & colorful person. I love coming to school and I have alot of friends.

When I wake up I think 'Today is going to be a great day.' I'm a really friendly person who loves live."

I sincerely hope as her mother I never do or say anything that would diminish this beautiful sense of herself that she--against all odds really--currently has. I will strive to be even more unrelenting in my efforts to help her know who she is--and to value herself simply because she is who she is--as the media and society are in commanding her to conform to their sick and distorted standards of whom they think she should be.

And now I ask you, what can I do to ensure that at age 14 and again at 16 and even when she is finally 18 (after that she's on her own) she still sees someone so beautiful when she looks in the mirror?

Bad Mommy Day

2007-10-25T16:37:00.000-07:00

This is a guest post from my friend Susie.

Today was one of those days. You know, the one where you're like "Please remind me why I signed on for this?" Not that you need to remind me, I already know the reason. It is the highest calling. I know this.

So today, I picked Ethan up from school and he told me how good he was, his teacher even gave him a special gift for showing such great behavior. I was very pleased. I have seen him make tremendous improvements in the last few months. Anyone who knows Ethan is aware of how busy and precocious he can be. And his energy level is through the roof. He is also very obstinate. Which makes for a challenging child, and my patience is tested every day. When Ethan was two he ran away from me constantly. It didn't matter if we were in a mall, airport, restaurant, Walmart,or our house. I resorted to putting latches on the tops of my doors, just to keep him safe. In public places he would find the nearest exit and make his fearless getaway. Recently he's gotten a lot better, although I've found him outside our house on the sidewalks a few times. We live on a busy road, and I've practically beat the dangers of running in the road into him.

Anyway, he asked if I would take him to McDonald's playland for lunch because he was so good. I agreed and we went. I noticed he started misbehaving after about a half hour, so I told him it was time to go home. I through my tray away, and when I turned around I couldn't find him. I figured he climbed back up into the playset. I called for him, no answer. I quickly walked through McDonald's, no Ethan. I went back to the playset, and the crappy part was that it's so difficult to find your kids when their up in that thing. There were tons of kids up there, so I just called his name hoping he would come down. After about 5 minutes or so I started panicking. Another mother caught on to my anxiety and offered to help. We looked around McDonalds again, we went outside etc. I seriously was about to call the police. This McDonald's was right against State St. in Lindon, which is a monster of a road. Horrible scenarios were going through my mind, and I was loosing it. After what seemed an eternity (probably about 10 minutes...maybe less) a lady came in the playland and asked if anyone was missing a child. She said there was a little boy in the Smith's parking lot behind McDonald's playing with rocks in the middle of crazy lunch hour traffic. I was hysterical, and went running outside with Lilly in my arms(perfect little soul). There Ethan was, happy as a clam, with no clue of what danger he was in. I grabbed him and we went in to get our bags from McDonald's. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself. My emotions were through the roof. I was literally pulling him and yelling "You scared Mommy to death, you could have been killed!!". You could have heard a pin drop in that McDonald's. All eyes and ears were on US. I could have cared less. I was so hysterical, I WANTED to beat the crap out of him (of course I didn't). But I did publicly chastise him. And I spanked him hard on his bum before we got in the car. I wanted him to be embarrassed, and shamed. I was so angry I was shaking. Ethan is a smart kid, and a boy ahead of his age in many ways. They've put him in a class with 5 year olds at school because he talks like he's 20. So, it's hard for me to remember that he's still 3 3/4.

So, here's where the advice is needed.

What would you have done?

I took his lovies away when we got home, and he went straight to his room, all privileges gone for the rest of the day. I also feel bad because the talk given in Sacrament meeting last week was about controlling your temper as a parent, and I feel I lost mine today. But honestly people, I was enraged because he could have been killed. I would appreciate some good mommy advice right about now.

You can't push against something that's not there

2007-10-14T11:05:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I worry I'm way too serious for this forum. So feel free to vote me off the island if you need to.

This morning I've been feeling like crappy mom and crappy person. So I call one of my best friends, Melody, because she gets me and she loves me even with my flaws. She is bound to have something to say to lift my spirits.

Long story short, just one of the things I was beating myself up about was my relationship with my daughter. It does not matter how much I do for her or how I try to show my love for her, it is never ever enough (ironically, I can just hear those words coming from my own mother's heart about me some 30 years ago). L~ will always see what I do for or how I treat the other kids and magnify it while turning a blind eye to the ways I express my love for her. She refuses hugs and pushes me away at every turn.

In any case, Melody was talking about how I express my love for my kids and how they know how much I love them. I rebutted "...except for L~." Melody then wisely pointed out that L~ would not feel the need to push back my love so hard if she did not feel it coming toward her. I never thought about it that way. For whatever reason she tries to resist, L~ knows I love her, even when the two of us are driving each other the craziest.

So I just wanted to put that out there, for future reference if you need it. That the love you give seeps in one way or the other, no matter how the relationship with whatever particular child is going at the moment.

Maybe that's part of what being a good mommy is all about.

Children's Song

2007-10-03T14:44:00.000-07:00

This guy cracks me up.

A Good Mommy/Bad Mommy Birthday Party

2007-09-24T07:19:00.000-07:00

I came across my new almost-friend Sue's blog, Navel Gazing, the other day and had to share her tips on throwing a last minute birthday party for a three year old.

Her tips cover:
*How to make a Ghetto Pinata
*Ensuring a full guest list
*The roles of Tootsie Rolls

I seriously laughed so hard at the description of the ghetto pinata that my three year old wanted to know what was happening.

Enjoy!

because sometimes I worry I'm scaring my sistahs...

2007-09-19T05:03:00.000-07:00

Stitches barely below younger brother's eye from toy rake thrown at him (age 4): $15

Remote control thrown across the room and against the wall (age 12): $25

Door to pestering little sister's room torn off its hinges (just last year): I dunno. He hasn't fixed it yet.

Watching maturing 18-year-old pray for his younger brother, learn to temper his anger. take his little sister out with his date and her little sister (and actually have a good time), clean the house-prepare dinner-and do the dishes without being asked, take his not naturally affectionate almost-man arms and wrap them around his mother with a big "I love you" attached: priceless.

in other news: said 18-year-old also just got accepted into BYU. I can't tell you how many days (including just last Saturday) I wondered if it was worth it. I can tell you now. It's worth it.

Cathedral Builder

2007-09-07T15:50:00.000-07:00

Let me be honest with you--I seldom read forwarded email. Especially if it has something like "For all my Gal Pals" or "FWD FWD FWD FWD FWD " or "Scroll Down !!!!!" in the subject heading. Not that I don't love getting mail, but I just don't open most forwards. There are a handful of people, whose judgment I trust, that I break that maxim for. My friend, Kathy, is one of those people. She was my Beehive, Mia Maid, and Laurel adviser when I was a teen. She was one of my references when we adopted Jooj. She can send me dookie in electronic form and I will read it. So she sent me this today and I actually teared up. Maybe I am hormonal. Maybe you have seen it before. I don't know who wrote it, but I needed to read it. Enjoy!

I'm invisible.....

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Pick me up right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -- but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going ... she's going ... she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read -- no, devour -- the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals -- we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."

And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand-bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

The post script to this little forward episode is that the very next email I opened was from my favorite ~J who sent me the link to Mom Jeans. Which contains one of the best lines ever: "Because you're not a woman anymore--you're a MOM!"

Bad Mommy

2007-09-06T10:29:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Jooj kicked me in the face while I as trying to buckle her in the car seat. (The kicking is new, thanks to her and Papi bonding over "Human Weapon" on the Discovery Channel.) As I recoiled from the blow I cracked my head on the door frame. I was filled, for a moment, with absolute rage. And I yelled at her--in her face. Then I lightly slapped her cheek. She sobbed.

I spent all evening repenting--she has forgotten it, I think, but I felt awful. I begged for forgiveness from Heavenly Father for being less than patient with his precious little kung-fu master.

And she head butted me this morning--square in the nose.

Remembering my anguish, I did not slap or yell. I instead let out a "Son of Bitch!"

Is that progress? Will next time I just shake it off and make her some pretend tea? Or will I snap and drive away to Vegas? At what point do I finally overcome the natural inclinations I feel when I am in pain (namely, rage)? How do I get over that momentary impulse and become responsible (read: good mommy) for my actions?

Tears

2007-09-04T23:56:00.000-07:00

I am sitting here with tears in my eyes. Not the same kind of tears I had earlier in the day. Earlier in the day I had some exhausted mommy tears. Tired of the incessant heat (what is UP with the 100+ degree weather?!?!?!?), sick toddler, sleep deprived mommy, hating hubby's new job, "why are there NEVER enough quarters around to get the laundry done?!??!" tears.

Finally made it out to mom's house to get some laundry done. (What a blessing to have family near by!!!!!!!!) Hubby got home earlier than expected. Go out for a fast food dinner. Feeling mediocre. Tears dried up. Come home to a package on the door. A package? A package for me??!!??!!! I don't recognize the return address....

Trip over the mess in the hallway. Add a cup to the dirty dishes in the sink. Sigh at the "castle" in the living room- it's been up for days. Toddler is ready for a dose of meds and I'm ready to wring her neck. FINALLY get her in bed. (I should mention that I usually savor bedtime.) Baby is crying and ready for more momma milk. Fill her tummy and rock her to sleep.

Back to that package!

The tears are back. Only this time they are not exhausted mommy tears. They are overwhelmed, grateful tears. They are tears of sisterhood and motherhood and everything that is right in this world. Tears of love, appreciation and joy in womanhood.

Sometimes I just need to let the tears flow.

From one mother to another: Thank you, my friend.

Feelin' Sad

2007-08-30T15:19:00.000-07:00

On Kalea's first day of preschool we were followed into class by a sad looking, little blonde boy and his... I couldn't quite figure out if it was his Grandma or ...how she was related to him. I was trying to figure out how many mixes were required to achieve a blonde (white blonde...playboy blonde) boy from a Grandma who was clearly Latina.

I was taking pictures of Kalea, and the Grandma asked me if I developed them, or something. I told her I was just taking some so that I could preserve the memory and allow Daddy to get a peek at her first day too.

We kept chatting and I found out that she was the nanny. Yep, a nanny brought this 3 year old to his first day of preschool.

Juxtapose that with all the moms and some daddies who took the day off to be at the first day of school. The poor little guy - my heart broke for him.

Then this past Tuesday when I went to pick Kalea up - I think I was running 3-4 minutes behind - I stayed and chatted with the teachers and noticed this same blonde boy, listlessly hanging around. One of the teachers asked the one I was speaking to if the parents knew the time preschool got out. By the time I finished chatting it was 15 min or so past when pick up time is.

Is it me or is this just really sad? That was only the 3rd day of preschool. Makes me want to scoop the boy up and take him home with me. As I finally got the girls strapped into their car seats I saw an SUV (BMW or Lexus...they all look the same to me) pull up.

Sometimes - when the bare necessities aren't what we worry about, we need to sit back and evaluate if working to pay for a nanny and things we don't necessarily "need"... to figure out if we're really providing what our kids really need.

Maximizing the Education Potentiality

2007-08-28T15:22:00.001-07:00

So today I am an AMAZING mommy because I am encouraging my child's love of spatial exploration, chemistry, and understanding of mass.

Some people would just think I am letting her pour fish crackers into different bowls and, ultimately, the kiddie pool.

They would be wrong.

not to scare you...

2007-08-25T18:59:00.000-07:00

...but to prepare you.

I've finally put into words the difference between raising teenage sons and raising teenage daughters. Don't worry. it seems not every teen feels the need to rage against the mother, and even with the worst (for me so far), they eventually grow out of it.

Once hormones set in it can be like this:

When your son gets mad he will pick up the emotional equivalent of a sofa and hurl it at you with all his might. No biggie. It's cumbersome and his aim is bad. You calmly step out of the way as he misses you completely. And he's over it.

When your daughter needs to vent her overwhelming emotions she dips a silver arrow in the most perfect poison prepared for you personally then pulls back her bow and shoots the arrow directly into your mother heart. She hits you dead center every time.

The trick will be to develop an immunity to every poison known to teengirlkind. Then you should be able to walk away from that one, too. I'm still working on it. I'll let you know.

(Is this a little too much information? If my frankness makes anyone uncomfortable let me know. I can keep it to myself.)

2007-08-17T11:28:00.000-07:00

I am a good mom today because I didn’t wring my firstborn’s neck.

Today was the second day in a row that he used the space of time between getting him dressed and getting me dressed to wreck havoc. Yesterday, he got into the pantry and climbed the shelves to get the honey. He removed the cap from the honey and ported it to the living room. He then poured the honey all over his trains, the coffee table, the carpet, and my fraying computer cord. He managed to get his hands, face, and bum (I don’t know.) I only had time to wash him and not the table or the trains. He screamed at me because the whole point of covering his trains with honey was so that he could give them a washdown like Sir Topham Hatt. Uh-huh.

My sister and husband graduated today from university. I was taking the kids to my sister’s graduation and had to go back to put on my clothes. Cue the music of doom. I walk into the hallway and notice white footprints. You know, like a freaking ghost on Scooby-Doo. That’s when I noticed the pantry door open and my 25 pound bag of flour tipped over. Gordon the Train was under the flour. Guille was covered in flour and when he ran away from me, his ghost footprints tracked around the kitchen and the living room.

I was so angry I slammed the pantry door, making the pile of flour go WHOOSH into the air and disperse in a mist all over my clean floor. I am happy that I didn’t slam the kid.

He screamed at me because he wanted to wash Gordon down. Instead, Gordon the Train got to stay in the pantry under the flour while I dragged Guille into the bathroom. He was trying to get away from me and succeeded only in powdering me. Do I look like I’m an 18^th century chick that needs a good dusting? Let me answer that for you, NO, I don’t. I don’t have any panniers, my Rousseau book is missing, and I lost my snuff box along with my beauty patches five years ago.

It’s like kids can sense anxiety and stress, and then decide to amplify it. My kids are still alive, we watched my sister walk, and now I’m having a Diet Coke. Even if I did DRAG my kid to get cleaned up, I am a good mommy today.

Requested by Phread

2007-08-07T20:23:00.000-07:00

I forwarded an email exchange a friend and I have been having to ~J and she requested that I ask the author to make a post out of it. My friend is quite lovely and bold, but hesitated to post something that she felt was "just off the top of her head." So I am posting it for her and keeping it anonymous. So there.

The topic that we were discussing is the internal struggle that mommies often feel when we express frustration at staying home to a listener who may not be sympathetic to women leaving the workforce. We feel guilty because we know that we have made the right choice for ourselves and our families, but we still don't like it all of the time. The response we often get from listeners is "Just go back to work." "Leave your kid in day care." "They really like being in preschool better than staying at home" "You need to get away from kids and back with adults" And then we feel stupid. Because we don't know what to say to that. So here is what she told me--I hope that you enjoy it!

Staying home to raise your kid IS hard. I know it sounds cliche. But it's such an all encompassing, divine nature building trial. It's hard in that it is an on-going experience which molds and shapes our very nature!!!! We have to LEARN how to enjoy mommyhood with all of it's scrapes and bruises. Some people seem to fall more naturally into that role than others. They make me feel guilty. But it also makes me sad when I see a mom run away to work as an escape. As if she's not cut out for motherhood because it is hard for her. Have they never done anything hard in their life??? What do you do when you want to accomplish something hard? If it were a work project or school assignment, you'd inform yourself, you'd practice. You might fail a bit. You'd seek support from people who have experience or knowledge in the area. The more energy you put towards a trial, the more you will grow and learn and accomplish. It would be hard to complete an assignment and REALLY gain from it if you just did what you knew and then handed the rest over to a "professional" when you'd had enough. There are so many reasons for a mom to work. But working as an "escape" from other trials is so sad. Instead of addressing the real issues for unhappiness... and finding potential happiness and fulfillment...women look for a quick fix that can impede growth.

I'm realizing that this might not be coming across the way I'd intended. If you feel any guilt from reading any part of this I have not expressed myself very well. Forgive me.

REASON to work is the issue here. Don't thinks me a working-mom hater. Prayer and personal revelation can help us find the path that will be best for our family.

The path of refinement and development of our divine traits does not lie on either the working mom road, or the stay at home mom road. It lies in doing your best to fulfill your calling as a wife and mother. That's it!!! We just keep plugging away. As a daughter of God you are not asked to be perfect. What a relief to not have to try and figure out what choices are the "perfect" ones!!!!!! That's my advice to you. Stop trying to be perfect. Trying to be a "perfect" mom will overwhelm you. At least that's what it does to me. I don't even see myself as trying to be "perfect" when I am struggling as a mom. But when I think about it....that is what brings me down. In my head I'm not living up to some whack perfect ideal. It snowballs from there.

This is one of the reasons that I started Good Mommy/Bad Mommy-to start some discussions between women who are smarter than me.

What is our take on calling fruit "sports candy?"

2007-08-02T19:15:00.000-07:00

I think that it is a load of crap.

2007-07-29T09:24:00.000-07:00

This is me eating my words and inviting you to discuss an interesting parenting topic over here.

Gimme a break

2007-07-16T05:30:00.001-07:00

Today I am a good mom because even though on occasion I may blog excessively, I am not this addicted to the Internet:

Nevada couple too busy playing Dungeons and Dragons to care for kids.

Blitter

2007-07-04T09:50:00.000-07:00

There is glitter in my daughter's scalp. We do not own any glitter. We do not own any accessories that use glitter. She just had her hair washed. Her shampoo is not made of glitter.

SO... how can there be glitter in her scalp? Is it because she is a girl? If she were a boy, would there be a tractor in her scalp?