Skilled at Terrorist Negotiations..

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

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

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.

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

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!

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

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.