Right Now

Well. It has been awhile. I don't even remember what font I was using. I'm going with Georgia because it suits me right now.

Right now. Two words that resonate with most children. When do you want your ice cream? Right now. When should you stop throwing grill ash through our screen? Right now. Alexis Grace its bedtime! No, not later. Right now.

Frankly, it also rings true for me throughout the day. When do I want the baby to stop crying? Right now. When should the children go to bed? Right now. When am I going to write my next blog entry? Right now.

There is no better time to jump back into this than right now. Nick has Alexis at swimming class and he took Justin with him. This has become the tradition on Sundays since Mother's Day. Its the time I most look forward to during the week. Yes. My time without my children and husband is my favorite time of the whole week. I spend 6 days, 22 hours, and 25 minutes with my offspring every week. I feel totally okay enjoying my short bit of peace, quiet, and solitude. In fact, its going on as I write this. Its happening right now.

So much to do!  Vacuuming, laundry, dishes, pumping, change my bed linens, change Alexis's bed linens, oh God when was the last time I changed Justin's crib sheet? Should I go to the bathroom with no company? Should I scrub the tub because there will be no interruptions?

Here is what I am choosing to do right now. Take a hot bath (by myself! not squeezed into naptime!) and finally update my sad, lonely blog. I am taking care of me. I am enjoying a moment of personal time. I am reacquainting myself with myself. 

Is that so bad? Should I feel guilty? I don't think so. After all, at the end of the day, I have me and myself alone. I better not forget who I am, what I like to do, what I think, and what makes me laugh. I need to remember all the areas I can better myself and all the ways I am an awesome person. I need to be so comfortable with myself that I can honestly and thoroughly help two other people discover all that they can about themselves. People who are just entering the world, just beginning to navigate their ways into this expansive universe in which we live. People who look to me to guide them and make sense of life. People who want me to kiss away tears at the same time as make them roar with laughter. I need to know how to do all of those things for me before I can attempt to help others; an airplane mask of life's lessons needs to be worn by me before putting it on my children. 

Its a good thing this post is ending, my bath is tepid, and I can hear the garage door opening. Its wonderful that I have taken this time to think about me. So I can give the best hugs, ask the best questions, make the best dinners. So I can happily, gratefully, and fully think about them. Right now.

Real Consequences for Actions

**this post is from August 2012. I drafted it and never published it! So here it is, a bit late.

  I saw a mom give her preschool kid a real consequence at the park today. She said one more time down the slide and he said "OK!" He went down the slide and then ran back up the playground apparatus. She said nothing, just waited at the bottom of the slide. He thought he was getting away with something so he slid down laughing. Big mistake.

  Mom took his hand and led him to their bench. She picked up her bag and began to walk to the car. He screamed and said she promised him a snack. She responded "You agreed to once more down the slide. You broke your word, now I am breaking mine." I could not have scripted a better response. Then she let him go crazy crying for about 4 minutes, at which point he tired out. Mom picked him up and away they went. Swoon.

  What worried me was the response from other parents after she left. Two moms and a dad were clustered together talking about how harsh the mom was in dealing with her son.

"He only wanted to go down the slide one more time."

"Oh, that poor child!"

"I wonder how that mom would like it if someone led her away from the spa kicking and screaming?"

These were the real reactions from parents present at this situation. Please. I say the child had it coming and I laud the mother for her determination and lack of emotion. He will likely be well-adjusted in his teen years since he knows exactly how far to push his parents (as he has been learning from a young age). I pity the indulgent parents who let their tots run the show. Someday those "sweet" children will be adolescents and think they still run the show. And those parents won't know what hit them.

I cannot believe my last post was March 2012

    And I cannot believe it discussed procreation. And a desire for #2. And how ready I thought I was.

    Because #2 is showing up any day now. Apparently I did not think pregnancy was worth blogging about. Regardless, our family is expanding very shortly. I was ready at conception. I thought I was ready if you would have asked me in July or October. But now? HAHA. Nick, Alexis, and I have such a beautiful rhythm  in our lives right now. It is a struggle to think how we will adjust to a new little one. I know we will but I am going to have to live it to truly believe it. 

    This pregnancy was challenging. From the get-go, it was not as simple as my first one. I felt off much of the summer and never completely comfortable in my skin. Then I way overdid it physically on a vacation right around 20 weeks and landed myself on bedrest with a cervical stitch for 15 weeks. 15 weeks! With a preschooler at home. And a husband who works long hours. Luckily, everything with the baby is fantastic. He (yes, HE) has baked to completion and is now just waiting to pull the rip cord. 

    I wish he would have told me this past Autumn to not worry, he's not coming out. It would be lovely if babies in utero could communicate and tell us when to panic and when to just go with the flow. Actually, it would be nice if babies not in utero would do that as well! Interpreting baby noises, grunts, cries, and facial expressions is in my very near future. 

    Maybe my 4 year old will be able to interpret for me.

Ready for #2

  Well, I am ready. If other parents can handle the crazy pressure of adding to their brood then I can too. I mean we. We. Have I mentioned that my husband is not emotionally on board yet? One of my friends recommended just going for it and explaining it later. Something about that seems dishonest. And dishonesty is not how a child should be brought into the world. Right?

 
  Part of me is ready for deception. I don't know why I suddenly want to double my workload. Let's face it, that is precisely what I will be doing. As good a baby as Alexis was, I am out of the baby mode completely. No waking up through the night, no trying new foods slowly on Allergy Watch, no stroller bound outings, no crying only communication. You get the idea.

  Instead, I am basking in 3 year old grandeur. Shouting matches, power struggles, endless repititon, loud voices, and daily accidental suicide prevention. Why would I want to add a sibling into that mix?

  This is why.

  

  I am ready to do it again. And how much more fun to watch my older child embrace and grow with her new sibling. There is a lot of fun ahead!

Can You Be Too Hands On?

 No, I am clearly not talking about me. I tell Alexis to "try doing it yourself" and "just a minute, I have to finish this first" way too many times in a day. That topic can be a guilt-ridden post for another day. The completely hands-off moms are also a topic for another day (get off your iPhone and talk to your kid for one second! Didn't you choose to stay home and raise your child?). Today I have to discuss the too hands-on moms at the park. I have seen things of this nature many times, but I saw a ridiculous mother the other day that actually inspired this blog post. Perhaps the term ridiculous is too harsh, but I am rarely accused of mincing my words and being too gentle.

 I am all about talking with your children and having fun with them and being a part of the activities, as opposed to just sitting on the sides with coffee and another mom all day every day. But it is okay to let your kid do a little exploring and playing and doing on his own. Please stop following your 3-year old around the entire park with your hands outstretched like he is going to break his neck with every step. Please stop encouraging him to go interact with every new kid that comes to the playground. Please stop putting him into and taking him out of the swing every 3 minutes. Please stop chattering at him about everything he sees, hears, and feels. And most of all, when having a conversation with another adult who is at the bottom of the climbing wall, please don't sprint away in mid-sentence because your preschooler is about to come down the slide and you aren't waiting at the bottom with a huge smile and an encouraging "good for you, Logan!".

 He is 3 years old and will be in school in 2 years. How can he ever make friends with your incessant hovering and meddling? He might fall. He will get up and try again. He may get turned away by a peer who doesn't want to play with him. Wipe off his tears, give him a hug, and send him back out there. When he fails a test, it is him who needs to study harder next time, not you. When he gets dumped by a girlfriend, it is him who will have to mend his broken heart and ego, not you. When he doesn't make the Varsity football team, it is him who will have to find another activity to fill his Autumn, not you. Relax a little, mom.

 As parents, we need to be our child's advisory council, therapist, nurse, tutor, nutritionist, coach, and cheerleader. Most importantly, we need to figure out how to always let our children know we love them no matter how much they fail, fall, or disappoint. We need to dispense hugs and kind words, but withhold the judgement. We need to discipline, but not punish. We need to let them live their lives and help them when they need it and ask for it. This starts by letting the toddler wear whatever garish outfit she picks out before heading to the grocery store. And allowing the Kindergartner to try ice skating even though he is the klutziest kid in the history of the world. And letting your 9 year old go to that first sleepover, even though you are pretty sure she will call you at 11pm crying and wanting to come home. And encouraging your Freshman in high school to try whatever extracurricular they are interested in, even though you know he will never make the final cut for the musical since he cannot carry a tune.

 Let the freedom begin at the playground. Let your child go and play. Of course interact with him some of the time, but also let him just be. He will be okay entertaining himself and figuring out how to fill his time at the park. He knows you are over there loving him the whole time. And because you already enjoy playing with him, he also knows he has someone to eat his pretend cookies when he is ready to take them out of his toy oven.

Suburban Hell--Keeping Up With the Joneses

  I am not immune. I find myself constantly noting where Alexis falls on her age scale. Is she big enough? No. Is she verbal enough? Yes, she could give grade-schoolers a run for their money. Is she coordinated enough? No, total klutz (Nick's genes). Is she artistic? Musical? Competitive?

  I heard it at the park the other day when I was chatting with a couple other moms about preschool. Mom A was discussing the advantages of a $395/week Montessori over a "cheap" daycare with a curriculum. I am pretty sure cheap is still around $200/week. She was talking about how she felt totally uncomfortable even walking around the daycare, in fact, I believe her actual phrase was "I wanted to shower as soon as I got home" followed by peals of giggles. When Mom A made that remark I glanced at Mom B assuming she would mirror my slight horror at what was just said, but she was laughing too. Mom B responds with "I don't even know why lower income kids bother with preschool. They will be behind in school anyway." Why am I talking with these women?!? Oh, and for the record, I was at a park in a wealthy suburb where there really aren't any low income kids and the daycare is likely more immaculate than my house. Wait, that doesn't say a whole lot. Well, either way, by no means is the daycare filthy, gross, or unhygienic. And I bet it has the same educational standards at the Montessori school down the street.

  Anyway, this conversation continued with both mothers comparing their preschoolers. They asked how old my daughter is and when I said "She is only two and a half, so no preschool for us yet! We are just doing ECFE once a week", I was promptly mentally dismissed. How tragic. I stayed to listen though because I couldn't believe how arrogant these two women actually were, essentially just because their husbands make a lot of money which affords them luxuries others aren't privy to.

  This was the conversation, with some mild paraphrasing due to the fact I am not a journalist and don't own one of those nifty recorders.

Mother A: "Bella actually counts up to 2 now. I could just listen to her all day counting her dollies, 1-2."

Mother B: "That is so precious! Eddy won't count. It might bore him. He is much more physically active. He tries so hard to tie his shoes like his older brother, but they are velcro!"

A: "How adorable! I am sure Bella could tie her shoes if we were working on that. But we are encouraging her to follow her interests. She could play with her dollies all day. Just counting them. We should get her more dollies so we can hear her count higher! Does Eddy say his alphabet yet?"

B: "Yes of course. He almost writes his name too! It looks a little like squiggles but he knows what he is trying to write."

A: "My Bella just won't sit long enough to learn to write. I bet she could write her name if she had more focus. But if she is not a focused kid, then we will just learn to deal with that. We are very loose in our house, we give Bella her freedom. That is why she needs Montessori. They can help her focus."

  I could go on and on because this inane conversation went on and on. Mercifully, Alexis came over shortly after and asked to swing. In fact, she said quite clearly in her piping little voice "Mom, can you push me on the baby swing?" She is very articulate and I love that I can communicate so clearly with her (and have been able to do so for months!).

  Yes, she now calls me Mom and yes, I can brag too.

Can't Ever Be a First-Time Parent Again

  And would I want to? It is a tough question. There are so many perks to being a newbie in the whole parenting game. Most importantly, you only have one child to deal with. I am thankfully still in this stage, but soon enough (big picture) I will be outnumbered.

  Ah, the blissful days of a newborn. Despite the milking, sleeplessness, and worrying, it is a time of peace and calm and joy.  So why didn't anyone tell me that I wouldn't properly enjoy it? I was concerned with finances, infant development, and photography instead of sleeping, reveling, and relaxing. Also, chores. When I think of all the time I could have been doing chores when Alexis was immobile and actually took naps. What was I doing during that time? Now when she has Quiet Time all I can do is sit and pray for sanity.

  I don't want to go back to newborn days, but I wish I could have the same time with the next child. I could take all the things I learned from the first one and apply them to number 2. But life doesn't work like that.

Newborns--Do They Hear Us?

  I was on a walk with Alexis the other day and we were a few paces behind a mother with a newborn. I am talking alien-faced, barely-10-lbs, still-red-and-wrinkled newborn. For the record, mom looked good. I wouldn't judge her if she looked bad, but damn she looked amazing. Amazing. Anyway, there was a family of ducks swimming in the water hole and we both stopped to look and discuss with our children.

  Alexis was watching and talking about what she was seeing. I have to admit I wasn't listening to my child at all. I was totally wrapped up in my compatriot. The other mom was describing everything to her infant. She was mentioning the colors of the ducks, the sounds of the family, the babble of the water, the slight breeze that was blowing, the warmth of the sun, etc. It was incredible. She was eloquent and descriptive. The way she explained senses and feelings was pure poetry. I was mesmerized by her detailed prose. Even Alexis ceased babbling for a brief second to listen. This woman had me hanging on her every word, wanting to answer her questions about what I was seeing and hearing and experiencing.

  And her baby was asleep through all of it. But what a fantastic teacher he has to guide him for his many awake moments in the future.

Who Created Moon Sand?

  Moon Sand is this magical sand that is for the indoors. It never dries out, it is highly moldable, and comes in bright fun colors. Alexis got the Bake Shop set for her birthday, which has pink, purple, and white sand, plus some extra blue sand. Needless to say, all her sand is now purple, which she loves. Everyday Alexis wants to make cupcakes with frosting, tarts with fruit, and big cakes. She molds them and then takes them over to her IKEA kitchen to bake on her cookie sheet. She uses an old house phone as her business line and ends each call with "Thank you for your business, bye bye!". So creative, clever, and non-weather dependent.


  I despise Moon Sand. It is sand, so it gets into everything. Every crack. Every crevice. Under fingernails. Between toes. I cannot sweep it up. I try repeatedly, but I just cannot get it all. Also, Alexis wants me to play it with her every time. I am the master baker, stirring the sand in the stand mixer. Forming all the minuscule treats and adhering their frosting caps. Patting the tarts and creating the large cakes, making the flower decorations to place on the top. Then I need to pretend to eat them and gush over how fabulous they are. Finally, I make half the pretend phone calls to Daddy so he can order custom-made treats "for pick-up or delivery?".


  Alexis needs to learn how to play with this onerous toy on her own. I don't mind doing it with her occasionally, but it would be much better if this was a solo endeavor on her part. I don't need to develop my fine motor skills or use this as an outlet for my creative genius. I would like to leave those things up to Alexis. I will ooh and ahh over her lovely desserts and even be her delivery woman, but I want to leave my fingers out of the Moon Sand!


  So far, Moon Sand might just be the world's worst invention. And my 2 year old loves it.

Potty Training - A Parent's Everest

   I haven't heard of a Kindergartner going to school not being potty trained. So why all the fuss, stress, and worry over the toilet? Some parents do infant potty learning, many parents begin when their child is a toddler, and a few others are forced to wait until their child is old enough that intense bribery works.

  There is pressure from society ("most children are trained by 2"), grandparents ("you were out of diapers by 18 months; one day I just said 'sit on the potty' and you did it), and daycare centers ("our policy is that your child cannot move into the preschool room until he is 33 months or potty trained"). But in reality there are basic body functions that cannot be forced, barring medical intervention via tubes, if the child is not ready, like sleeping, eating/drinking, and excreting.

  Alexis is not quite 2.5 years old. Since she has always been a fastidious child and a fast learner, I bought some underwear before she showed any interest. Being the Type A freak I am, I wanted to make sure that if she wanted to wear panties one day I would be prepared. Well, about a month ago she did decide that she wanted to wear underwear and try sitting on the potty. Over the course of 8 days, she had many makes, became an expert at holding her pee (I am talking for like 7+ hours), many misses, and never once attempted a poop. Her biggest hurdle was focus; pausing in her day to go sit on the potty and focus for just a couple seconds before resuming her activity. Then one day, about a week later, she went cold turkey on the training and requested diapers again. Okay by me.

  That last statement is the amazing thing in all of this. For me, I think I handled the Alexis-led potty training as well as I am ever going to. I was anxious about it because I want her to succeed. But I didn't vocalize any of my frustrations. I think Alexis felt relaxed to make the choice, to pee or not to pee.

  I currently believe Alexis doesn't have the emotional maturity to work on potty training and lacks a little body awareness. Again, part of the learning is knowing when you have to go (pee-check), being calm enough to eliminate in the potty (pee-check), and being able to tear yourself away from your toys to go do it (eh). When I say body awareness, I am referring to BMs. Just yesterday we were upstairs right before Quiet Time and she was running around naked. When she chooses to be naked, I remind her that since she is not wearing diapers she needs to try to go in the potty because we do not pee on the floor. "Okay Mommy!". So she is playing and then she stops and looks at me, bends over a little, and says "Mommy I toot!". I looked at the floor and said "No, Alexis you pooped." This little girl is a rule-follower who loves announcing her toots. Clearly she doesn't quite have the difference between fecal states of matter down yet. Good to know in terms of potty training.

  I am sure Alexis will reach an age at which I get more frustrated if she isn't grabbing the concept of using the potty. In another year if this is still an issue, I will likely be implementing the sticker charts, M&Ms, and big prize techniques that are more appropriate for a preschooler. But until then, I am approaching it in a very she-will-get-it-when-she-gets-it approach. I make sure she knows she is loved whether she pees in the potty, diapers, or her underwear. I encourage all parents to just relax and let your kids lead you down the path of using the potty. They will get it.

  I will end with the following vignette. Alexis knows the proper anatomical body part names of everything. Yes, everything, and she has known them for months. She likes information and I see no need to teach her cutesy names for things. That being said, about a week ago, we came inside from sand and water play. Because it was right before bedtime, she was naked before we went upstairs to get ready for sleep (I swear she wears clothing most of the time). I reminded her that since she is not wearing diapers she needs to try to pee on the potty or tell me she needs a diaper. She instantly ran over to the potty. Being that Alexis is a rule-follower, I thought there had been a miscommunication and she thought she needed to sit on the potty regardless of personal need. I told her once that she doesn't need to sit on the potty unless she needs to go. "Okay Mommy!". After a couple minutes of sitting spread eagle on her potty chair, Alexis unabashedly looks down between her legs and exclaims "Mommy! My vagina is working today!". She peed. Hooray for small victories and the simple excitement of a toddler.

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.