Coffee

  I realize this is not a super important topic. But at the same time it is. Could any parent really function without coffee? I know I couldn't. Everywhere I go, I see parents chugging Starbucks, Caribou, Dunn Brothers, or their own House blend in an eco-friendly travel mug.
  
  Is it a mental crutch? Is it an addiction? Does the aroma inspire us to be better parents and not think about how many times we got up throughout the night? Can we drink our java and ignore the tantrums more efficiently? Does the caffeine allow us to get through each mind-numbing yet chaotic day with our children? Is the pleasure of each hot sip enough to sustain us while we are digging in the sandbox or drawing on the driveway with chalk?

  Do we have a better relationship with coffee than our own parents? 

  Now for the important question: how on earth will I have baby #2 when I have to give up caffeine during pregnancy? It is not so much the 3 days of headaches, shakes, and waking in cold sweats (it might as well be heroin), as much as what happens after the addiction is kicked. I have a 2 year old who is an early waker, not a napper, and has the energy potential of a hurricane. Coffee gets me going first thing and then through the entire morning. Not only will I be hormonal and living with the changing pregnancy body, but now I have to keep up with a toddler at the same time? With NO COFFEE?! I used to judge parents who only had one child; now I understand it is simply that there is no perfect age of a child to deal with caffeine-free. Let's not even delve into the breast milk caffeine limitations. I am looking at 12-15 months of limited and/or no caffeine. And a toddler. 

  That's enough for now. I am getting overwhelmed just thinking about it. Time to perk myself up by grinding some Guatemalan beans and turning on my auto-drip.

Embrace Who You Are

  I was at the park the other day and was talking to a mom of a just-turned 3 year-old.  She was avidly complaining about her inability to shed the last 20lbs of baby weight.  I mentally questioned the term "baby weight" 3 years post-birth, but to each her own.  During our 15 minute conversation, I saw this mother consume a small bag of Skittles, 2 smushed Reese's peanut butter cups, half a PB&J, a few goldfish crackers, and a can of Coke.  

  Let me preface any further discussion of this topic with the fact that I am not naturally svelte.  I have to exercise and eat responsibly to maintain a semblance of "thin".  Don't get my husband started on "Mel snacks".  I will give you a hint--think flax, spelt, vegetables, or some combination of the 3.  Either way, if someone doesn't want to be responsible for what they put in their body, fine, but please don't waste my time complaining about the consequences.  Accept your habits and the correlating weight and move on.  

  As the whining reached a fever pitch, I had to interrupt her.  I could not help myself.  I inquired as to her diet and exercise lifestyle.  Believe me, I was all set to suggest a couple of uninvited weight loss tips.  She explained how she never eats breakfast, has only small lunches and dinner, doesn't believe in snacking, and has to have a glass of Pinot Gris at night to settle her nerves.  She also said she is just really tired all the time and has no time or desire to exercise after an entire day with a 3 year-old.  Her last remark hit a chord.  Despite all the nutritional misinformation within her answer, I avoided advising her to be more honest with herself about her habits.  Instead I gave her my gut reply, that I totally understand feeling like there is no time to exercise and the couch looking more inviting than the treadmill.  Believe me, this was not lip-service.  

  I enjoy exercise.  I feel great after a workout.  However, after having Alexis, I find it extremely difficult to get going some days.  In fact, due to the depressive nature of this past winter in Minnesota, I took an unfortunate and unexpected hiatus from formal workouts and relied on chasing around Alexis to burn calories.  I can tell you, there is not the endorphin high from that kind of exercise as the sweat-dripping kind from the gym.  It feels good to really get my body moving.  That being said, there are some days I just don't want to go work out and I want to eat a big bowl of ice cream after dinner.  And you know what, I feel good about those days too.      

  The real point of this post has nothing specifically to do with exercise and calories.  It has everything to do with acceptance.  Don't make excuses to a virtual stranger at the park who you fear is judging you and your extra 20lbs.  Don't let yourself believe that there are perfect people/parents/bodies out there.  We are all flawed and all need to just deal with it.  You will feel better once you start embracing your flaws and your strengths and even viewing your perceived traits in a different light.  Yes, my park compatriot feels she is 20lbs too heavy, but perhaps she is the best singer of "B-I-N-G-O", a wonderful preschool zoo chaperone, and does the most impressive voices while reading bedtime stories.  Maybe her son loves having a mom who has a little softness to her because that means she gives the most fantastic loving bear hugs.  It's possible her husband has never noticed the baby weight because she is such a terrific mother to his child. 

  How can we teach our children to accept themselves and others, if we cannot model that behavior for them?  Shouldn't we show them how its done?  

  Being direct and honest has no hidden agenda but can leave you feeling like you have an incurable case of verbal diarrhea.  Sometimes you leave a situation, not wishing you had avoided the truth, but that you had just held your tongue.  When our 15 minutes was over and it was time to go our separate ways, the last thing I said to the mom at the park was that I bet she's a fabulous mother and I am sure her son thinks she is beautiful.  She gave me a huge smile.  Maybe I will skip the exercise-fueled endorphin rush tonight and think about that smile instead.  While I am enjoying a big bowl of ice cream.

Are We Ever Satisfied?

   Does anyone know why it is that all children are never satisfied with one treat? You do something special for them, like give them ice cream or M&Ms or let them watch an extra episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Once they are done with the treat (or perhaps even while they are still “enjoying” the treat), they ask for more. Drives me nuts. I realize children lack perspective, but it screams of greed and gluttony when children act like spoiled little piggies and demand more goodies.   
  
  How do we learn to appreciate what we have and enjoy the good things we’ve got? Do we ever learn? Or do we model insatiable behavior to our children by always needing more, better, faster. 

  It makes me wonder if it takes loss, disappointment, and emptiness to truly grasp what having something special means.  I can't imagine any parent wants those things for their children.  In fact, I have to believe most parents would try to adjust the world in a way that would allow their kids go as long as possible before experiencing those feelings.  In life, there are more failures than successes, more nos than yeses.  Our children will be turned away more often than they are accepted.  It will be heartbreaking the first time this happens with Alexis.  I will probably cry with her the first time she comes home upset because her friend says a mean thing to her.  Perhaps it will be in my best interest to remember that each successive hurdle she faces will make her a stronger, better, more independent person.  Keeping that in mind might help me become the best parent possible.  
  
  After all, although we are raising our kids and trying to help them become fabulous people, shouldn't we be remembering to better ourselves along the way?

Who Made the Rules?

  Why do we give in to our kids, when we know in our heads that we should stand firm on some unknown grounds. No dessert before dinner, no more than 1 hour of television, one package of fruit snacks is enough, no spending the whole day in pajamas, etc. Who made those rules? If someone made the rules, why do we all break them?

  For a SAHM or SAHD, we need silence. Our days are filled with chattering, bickering, singing, reading aloud, and other general noise. We know silence is unachievable, but we long for even a few moments at a time. For working parents, the guilt of not seeing their children all day/night/week, is overcome by giving in to their demands. Special treats earn smiles, hugs, and “I love yous”, which are precious commodities for parents who spend their days away earning money. 

  I know “the rules” but I also break them regularly. It’s not worth the battle when Alexis asks for “one more Mickey, please?” So I say yes because it buys me 22 more minutes of peace and after all, she used her manners. That is worth something, right?

There Should Be Parenting Classes

  I saw an epic parental fail today at the Children’s Museum, a testament to selfishness and spoiled behavior. Child A got the last shopping cart at “Our World” (a room that has a child-scale grocery store, post office, sound studio, restaurant, and more—very cool). Child B got there a second too late and also wanted to cart. Mom A noticed this and asked her child if he would share with Child B. Child A acquiesced and gave the cart to Child B. Child B’s mom didn’t say anything when this all went down. Okay, I would have forced Alexis to say “thank you” or turn down the shopping cart, but overall not a big deal.

  However, about 10 minutes later, Child A was still patiently waiting for a shopping cart. Child B was playing with the cash register while keeping one hand on the shopping cart, so as to not let any other children play with it. Mom B is watching him do it. Mom A encourages her son to go over and ask Child B if he can use the shopping cart, since he is using the cash register instead. Mom B has been watching the entire time. Child B yells “mine” and runs away with the shopping cart. Child A starts to cry at this time and Mom A has to console her son. You are probably guessing Mom B does nothing. False! In fact, she goes over to her child and (I am almost sorry I was in earshot of this) says “Good job! Don’t let other kids take what is yours.”

   
  Huh? Is Mom B praising her son for being rude and egocentric? I should be prepared for this kind of thing, but usually even misguided parents are making some kind of effort.

  
  I admit I didn’t say what I wanted to say to Mom B in this situation; I took the passive-aggressive route. Alexis had somehow wrangled a shopping cart through all this drama between Children A & B. I told her (loudly) that her turn was over and it was Child A’s turn with the shopping cart since the carts are there for everyone to use. Bless her heart, she gave it directly to Child A and said “here you go! It’s your turn now!” I knew deep down Mom B wasn’t paying attention and wouldn’t have cared even if she was paying attention. But at the end of the day, I am glad I had the child who shared and was proud of being a good friend. At least on that day at the Children’s Museum.

Parenting--It's All in the Effort

  Let me not mince words, some children have awful behavioral moments.  We have all seen that child at the grocery store/museum/theater/etc. and wondered how did that come to be?  Why is this child lashing out and how is the parent handling it?  More importantly, would I do the same thing in this situation?

  Then I debate if some children really are tougher to raise, despite all the best efforts?  Or are some great children spoiled by lazy, ineffective, inconsistent parenting?  Sadly, I don't buy into the "bad seed" belief and I tend to blame the parents.  I am not perfect and I certainly have my moments of weakness, but I like to continually think about and assess my parenting...my actions, my words, my thought processes, my areas of inadequacy.  Since this is the job I have chosen to undertake, I feel it is my duty to apply myself to it as though I was employed.  In some allusive way, I am employed by civilization to raise an ethical and productive member of society.

  In our house, we employ the Family TREE: Trust-Respect-Education-Empathy.  These are the tenets that we each need to strive towards, for ourselves and for others.  Being only 2, Alexis has yet to truly test rules, but already we direct misbehavior to the TREE.  What did you do wrong?  What could you have done instead?  What branch does this fall under?  I am sure Alexis doesn't grasp most of what we are saying, but she hears the words and sees the consistency.  Likewise, good moments and choices are praised and also applied to the TREE.  The other day, Alexis took a toy from her friend.  She looked at me and before I could react in any way, she gave the toy back, "here you go!".  I told her that was the right thing to do and that she showed a lot of respect for her friend by giving the toy back.
    
  We believe in right and wrong, in being parents first, and in the basic Judeo-Christian ethic of  behavior.  Sometimes things are not fair, sometimes we lose, and sometimes we witness poor choices.  However, each action is unto itself and every bad decision can be turned right.  Each new moment has the possibility to be handled in a positive way.  The goal is to turn on more lights than we turn out.  By no means am I a perfect parent and I have a long way to go, but I often wish all parents cared about their job as parents as much as their employment.  Its not always knowing what to do, its trying to do something.  Who knows if this TREE concept is a good one?  But I feel strongly in that I am making the best effort I know how.  And when I witness a child making poor choices, I hope the parents attempt to grasp the learning moment at hand and teach their child a way to turn the situation right.      

Why Begin Again?

And more importantly, why did I start in the first place?

  I am the married mother of a wonderful daughter, Alexis, born 02/18/09.  I am a pretty straight shooter and having Alexis did not alter that at all.  In fact, it might be worse now more than ever.  However, I have been told by numerous people with and without children, that I say many of the things they are thinking.

  In relation to my child, I believe she was only 3 days old when I said she bore a greater resemblance to a Venusian neighbor than to anyone from this planet (much less me!)  Since then, although I love and adore Alexis more than anyone else, the honest truth prevails when I look at her.  I will tell you that she is over-dramatic, quite clumsy, and a tad spoiled.  She is in the 5th percentile for height and weight, she has little interest in any kind of fine motor skill, and has an even shorter attention span than most 2 year-olds.  

  That being said, Alexis spoke her first understandable word at 8 months old when she pointed at a friend's cat and said "kitty". The friend responded "Yes that is our kitty...wait, did you just say 'kitty'?"  Alexis' verbal skills are off the charts and I love it.  No really, I do.  It is wonderful to have a child who does not have to resort to temper tantrums because no one understands him or her (how frustrating for most toddlers and their parents!). Yet, my patience is tested all day long because my child never stops making noise.  Yes, you read that correctly: noise.  Sure, her vast vocabulary is fantastic...sure, I always know what's on her mind...sure, she knows I understand her.  As you are potentially wondering why I am complaining about this, please try to come up with one person you know that you honestly want to hear talk all day, that you actually want to hear every thought bubble that pops into his head, that at some point doesn't make you want to throw a shoe at his head if he says one. more. word.

  For anyone who currently is raising an adolescent (or God bless you, has successfully sailed through that stormy season and come out on the other side), I apologize for whining about the communication.  I am sure I too will long for these days when I couldn't get Alexis to stop talking.  But I am not there yet.  My perspective on a daily basis is rooted in toddlerhood.  Its reverse Charlie Brown-adult noise, "wah wah wah wah wah wah".  My daughter is quite possibly the world's chattiest 2 year-old.  I have been asked if I think Alexis is some super brilliant child.  The answer is quite simply no.  Alexis fools people by continual vocalization.  If you are around her, you hear every single thing that pops into her head.  She needs to learn that not everyone cares about every thought process she has!  Discretion please Alexis; wait for the quarter before dispensing a gumball.

  I am irritated daily by the endless sound of my daughter's voice.  By 6:00pm, I would rather see the verbiage swirling around a wine glass than pouring out of her mouth.  But I listen and she talks and we have discussions because she is my daughter and I feel it is my obligation to hear her voice.  There are enough people in her life that will metaphorically and literally tell her to shut up.  I cannot be one of those people.  

  So to answer my own question above, while I may say the things other parents are thinking to other adults, I cannot bring myself to say them to Alexis.  She deserves more than that.  So I will write them here.  Hopefully someday she can read them and laugh, but until then, I am one giant ear with which to listen to the babbling flow of her words.