It is officially the spookiest time of year . . . election season. Oops! Wrong column. Ok, so Halloween is coming up. I know that a lot of folks don’t celebrate for various reasons: childhood obesity, safety concerns, the problems with hooligans, etc. But are these good reasons to end a time-honored American past-time steeped in tradition?
It is no coincidence that Halloween takes place at the same time of year as political campaigning. Going door-to-door, begging for handouts is the childhood precursor to political campaign financing. Trick-or-treating is very similar to running for office. For instance, there is a special time to go (Halloween night), things you have to say even if they are not true (thank you for the raisins), you have to deal with lobbyists (dentists) and special interest groups (vegans and UNICEF) and there is a special code to direct revelers to the right place (a porch light). Halloween teaches children about government.
Ok, so no one really wants to think about politics right now. Well then, think of Halloween as a teaching tool, and each year of trick-or-treating is an educational experience all its own.
One Halloween from my past stands out. Back then, costumes were plastic suits that had to be eased into or they might rip and then would need to be repaired with duct tape. Store-bought costumes came with plastic masks that had one big rubber band and two staples. My brother would come up behind me and snap that rubber band so hard that I thought my eyeballs were going to shoot out of my head. I could never see out of the mask because the eye holes were little slits conveniently located near my ears. I got so sweaty from trick-or-treating that the plastic would act as a giant piece of Saran Wrap. When I took off my costume it was like peeling the lid off of a warm pot-roast as condensation dripped off of the inside of my costume. It was like a sweat lodge for the grammar school set.
The year I turned seven I dressed-up as Wonder Woman. The poly- vinyl over two layers of clothing made me look like a lumpy Linda Carter after a botched liposuction. I was one of six Wonder Women in my neighborhood. I don’t want to brag or anything, but I really was the best one, since only I had the tiara, the bullet-proof bracelets, and the magic lasso of truth--all made out of aluminum foil (see, Halloween teaches us how to accessorize).
My sister used to eat all her candy at once. I used to code mine into two groups, the high end goodies (chocolate) and the lower end stuff (tootsie rolls, suckers, dots, gum, and any type of taffy product), then I could ration out my horde throughout the year and never be without sugar (saving for retirement).
At one point, there was an after-school special that warned against eating anything homemade or items not individually packaged. The hospital in my community started giving free x-rays for candy on Halloween night. The line to get candy inspected was lengthy, I was so hungry that I ate two Almond Joys, a Snicker’s bar, and a York Peppermint patty before my candy got the green light for consumption. It turns out; the only thing in my candy was nougat but as a bonus I got to have my stomach pumped (learning about healthcare).
If you are still not convinced that Halloween is educational, just remember, some of the most important life lessons can be learned from trick-or-treating. For example: Beggars cannot be choosers (you wanted Chick-O-Sticks but got Sixlets, bummer). Your parents are not above stealing from you (where do you think the expression “taking candy from a baby” came from?). You can never be too rich, or too thin, or have too much candy (unless it is those orange circus peanuts, no one wants those). You can become anything you want (as long as the total cost does not exceed $10, does not require actual sewing, is not flammable, or does not have some form of mechanical apparatus—swords and battle axes are ok). And finally, there is a return on investment (time spent running from house to house + size of treat bag = one fun evening).
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Say What?!?
The other day I was making muffins with my kids while listening to Lynrd Skynrd. My oldest son said, “This song is okay for old people music.” I let his slap in the face, I mean compliment, go unnoticed. Not killing my offspring is just one more of the services I provide in the school of mom. Showing the children care about them even though they say things that make me want to pile drive them into the carpet is a requirement of motherhood.
I, like a lot of other mothers, spend a significant amount of time and energy trying to be a better parent. I read books, watch videos, talk to other moms and spend a lot of time feeling guilty for just about everything except breathing; sometimes, even that. The hardest part of being a mother is trying to decipher which expert is correct. Is it the TV psychologist with a best-selling book? Is it the psychotherapist with his own syndicated Sirius satellite radio program? Is it the spiritual healer/nutritionist with the sweat lodge and organic hemp t-shirts? That is the thing; everyone says someone else has the answer.
I read magazines written just for my kind of dilemma. Magazines with titles like: Parents, Parenting, Parent Life, Mothers, Mothering, Family Fun, Family Life, Home Life, Home Girl, Home Court Advantage, and the list goes on. Most of them do nothing to help me and I have suffered innumerable paper cuts thanks to those little cards that they stick in between the pages. Even when I am trying to be a better mother I am suffering, babies should come with a warning label that reads: giving birth is just the beginning of your pain, wait until they start to dig through your purse.
Recently, I read the worst article I have come across yet, it was titled: The Six Most Annoying Things Kids Say. It was supposed to be a self-help article on how to deal with those annoying little gems kids blurt out, but instead it was just a waste of electronic file space on some poor server. In a nutshell here is what the article calls the most annoying things kids say and how to deal with them:
Mine—Ignore it
Not Fair—Explain that nothing is fair
You’re Not the Boss of Me—Try to Understand what the child is really trying to express
I want it now—Pretend not to hear it
You never let me do anything—Is something wrong
I don’t like you—That hurts my feelings
All I can figure is this person obviously has no children. If these are their list of the 6 most annoying things, they must be living in a semi-frozen state of consciousness or have been exposed to large amounts of high-octane gas fumes. If all my kids said were the above six things, I wouldn’t have this annoying facial tick and unquenchable craving for gin and tonics. So, here is my list of the top 20 annoying things my kids said to me today:
1. Mom, you wanna hear a song? It is called the song that never ends.
2. Boogers taste yummy.
3. Are we there yet? How about now?
4. Wow, that guy’s back is almost as hairy as dad’s!
5. I need some more money.
6. Your butt is getting bigger and bigger.
7. Can I have 5 friends sleep-over . . . tonight?
8. I need 48 cupcakes for school today.
9. Can you help me with my homework about 2 trains, one is going 35 mph headed South, and one is going 62 mph headed East?
10. Mom, how old do I have to get before I can grow a mustache like yours?
11. The dog ate all the dimes out of my coin collection.
12. Wow, Mom, you have more grey hair than Justin’s grandma!
13. I heard Daddy tell someone you aren’t the boss, you are just bossy.
14. Something got spilled in the bathroom, I am not sure if it is soup, throw-up, diarrhea or my science fair experiment.
15. Can I please be adopted?
16. Daddy’s secretary sure is pretty.
17. Mommy, the police are here . . . again.
18. When I grow up I want to work at McDonalds!
19. Uncle Paul said boys are smarter than girls, you can’t fight genetics.
20. I know you can light farts on fire, I saw it on Mythbusters.
*Bonus Annoying Item* 21. Knock, knock. Mom, you are supposed to say, “Who's there?”
Maybe all us parents should just stop while we are ahead, and never teach the kids to talk in the first place.
I, like a lot of other mothers, spend a significant amount of time and energy trying to be a better parent. I read books, watch videos, talk to other moms and spend a lot of time feeling guilty for just about everything except breathing; sometimes, even that. The hardest part of being a mother is trying to decipher which expert is correct. Is it the TV psychologist with a best-selling book? Is it the psychotherapist with his own syndicated Sirius satellite radio program? Is it the spiritual healer/nutritionist with the sweat lodge and organic hemp t-shirts? That is the thing; everyone says someone else has the answer.
I read magazines written just for my kind of dilemma. Magazines with titles like: Parents, Parenting, Parent Life, Mothers, Mothering, Family Fun, Family Life, Home Life, Home Girl, Home Court Advantage, and the list goes on. Most of them do nothing to help me and I have suffered innumerable paper cuts thanks to those little cards that they stick in between the pages. Even when I am trying to be a better mother I am suffering, babies should come with a warning label that reads: giving birth is just the beginning of your pain, wait until they start to dig through your purse.
Recently, I read the worst article I have come across yet, it was titled: The Six Most Annoying Things Kids Say. It was supposed to be a self-help article on how to deal with those annoying little gems kids blurt out, but instead it was just a waste of electronic file space on some poor server. In a nutshell here is what the article calls the most annoying things kids say and how to deal with them:
Mine—Ignore it
Not Fair—Explain that nothing is fair
You’re Not the Boss of Me—Try to Understand what the child is really trying to express
I want it now—Pretend not to hear it
You never let me do anything—Is something wrong
I don’t like you—That hurts my feelings
All I can figure is this person obviously has no children. If these are their list of the 6 most annoying things, they must be living in a semi-frozen state of consciousness or have been exposed to large amounts of high-octane gas fumes. If all my kids said were the above six things, I wouldn’t have this annoying facial tick and unquenchable craving for gin and tonics. So, here is my list of the top 20 annoying things my kids said to me today:
1. Mom, you wanna hear a song? It is called the song that never ends.
2. Boogers taste yummy.
3. Are we there yet? How about now?
4. Wow, that guy’s back is almost as hairy as dad’s!
5. I need some more money.
6. Your butt is getting bigger and bigger.
7. Can I have 5 friends sleep-over . . . tonight?
8. I need 48 cupcakes for school today.
9. Can you help me with my homework about 2 trains, one is going 35 mph headed South, and one is going 62 mph headed East?
10. Mom, how old do I have to get before I can grow a mustache like yours?
11. The dog ate all the dimes out of my coin collection.
12. Wow, Mom, you have more grey hair than Justin’s grandma!
13. I heard Daddy tell someone you aren’t the boss, you are just bossy.
14. Something got spilled in the bathroom, I am not sure if it is soup, throw-up, diarrhea or my science fair experiment.
15. Can I please be adopted?
16. Daddy’s secretary sure is pretty.
17. Mommy, the police are here . . . again.
18. When I grow up I want to work at McDonalds!
19. Uncle Paul said boys are smarter than girls, you can’t fight genetics.
20. I know you can light farts on fire, I saw it on Mythbusters.
*Bonus Annoying Item* 21. Knock, knock. Mom, you are supposed to say, “Who's there?”
Maybe all us parents should just stop while we are ahead, and never teach the kids to talk in the first place.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
I'm Not Perfect, But Let's Pretend
I wanted to be the perfect mother, so I did what any modern woman would do, I Googled it. You can learn anything from the internet. I found an article on the World Wide Web titled “How to be the Perfect mother.” You can view it here: http://www.ehow.com/how_2103655_be-perfect-mother.html
This particular article said anyone can become the perfect mother in only six steps and the article had a difficulty rating of “moderately easy.” I thought to myself, now this is the kind of information I need. Finally, someone has boiled it down to the simplest terms and now, even I, can be the perfect mother.
Step 1: Understand your child is unique. No book, article, parenting class or lecture will give you the exact answers for your child. Take in information, then adapt it to each of your children based on his or her personality.
“Mom, are you awake?”
“Mmmgmpf.”
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“MOM!?”
“What?!”
“Your breath stinks.”
Step 2: Follow your instincts. You should know your child better than anyone else. Even mothers without the "mothering gene" have internal warnings and insights to their children that no one else has.
I was in the middle of cooking dinner so I asked my husband to help with the children. “Honey, can you go check on the kids. I told them to bring that pitching machine up to the back deck and it is taking them a long time. I think there is something wrong.”
A few minutes later . . .
“Well, I checked on them. The older one was carrying the machine and all of the balls while the little one kept hitting him over and over with a plastic bat. Is that what you were envisioning when you thought something had gone wrong?”
Step 3: Be your own kind of mom. Parenting the exact way another mother parents will not make you the perfect mother. Use your own talents and strengths to enrich your child's life and influence your family's activities and schedule.
At Easter I was purchasing eggs for the kids to color and hide in the yard. I always buy the organic eggs even though they are more expensive because I don’t want my kids pumped up with hormones from eating the eggs of steroid enhanced chickens. I was debating getting the low grade eggs for dying, since I knew that no one would be eating them and they were only for Easter activities. I stood at the egg section in the grocery store for 10 minutes trying to talk myself into the lower quality eggs but broke down and bought the expensive organic ones, ‘just in case’ one of the kids ate one hard-boiled egg while hunting for them in the yard. When I got home, unloaded the groceries and prepared the kitchen for egg coloring, I opened my package of 5 dozen organic eggs and knew right away that I should have gone for the hormone laced ones. All 5 dozen of the eggs I purchased were brown.
Step 4: Acknowledge that being a mother is trial and error. Admitting that something is or is not working is key in being a more perfect mother. Being able to identify what works, but especially what does not work allows you to make positive changes for you and your child.
I wanted my kids to learn to be responsible for themselves, and realize that they have a choice between right and wrong. I went on to talk about the fact that rules were not as important as our own internal code of morality. In the middle of my lecture my youngest son began telling me that he was going to sneak out of his room and get candy in the middle of the night and also telling me that I could not stop him. He went on to say that since “I wouldn’t know about it,” I could not punish him. I told him, “Even if I don’t know, your conscience would, and you would feel guilty because you know it would be wrong.” My oldest son then interjected with, “Mom, brother does not have a conscience.” The little one then followed it up with, “Oh, I have one. It is just that I don’t like to use it.”
Step 5: Treat this like a job. Parenting is not something that just happens. It is something that you will have to work at everyday. You have to want to do your best in this occupation to be successful and to see results.
So, I guess that means no driving the kids to school in my pajamas anymore.
Step 6: Know when to step back. Being the perfect mother does not mean that you do everything for you child. Allowing your children to grow and develop on their own will not only strengthen them as they age, but will also strengthen your relationship as mother and child.
“Mom can you carry me?”
“I can’t, you are too heavy.”
“Yes, you can. I know you can.”
“Honey, you are five years old, you can walk. Besides, we are almost back to the car.”
“I know you could carry me if you wanted to. What if there was a fire? Would you want me to burn up?! Wouldn’t you want to save me?!”
“Ok, yes, if there was a fire, then I would probably grab you and run.”
“Well, then just pretend there is a fire and pick me up!”
Based upon those 6 steps I came up with my own way of recognizing the difference between good mothers and bad mothers.
A good mother tells you that you cannot have a flamethrower for your birthday. A bad mother tells you she would have gotten you one--but they weren’t on sale.
A good mother takes you on outings and reminds you to be careful so that no one gets hurt. A bad mother barks, “Knock that off or you could get somebody killed.”
A good mother tells you to use your best manners and to be considerate of other people. A bad mother tells you that if you talk with a mouth full of food one more time she is going to force you to watch something that you don’t want to see, like the Lifetime movie marathon on a Saturday afternoon.
A good mother wants you to get into the best schools, win awards and be the most popular kid in school. A bad mother just wants you to survive childhood and not grow up to be a criminal.
Because of my own observations, and the article I read, guess which category I fell into (and which one I didn't)? My husband said I didn’t need six steps to be a “perfect mother” and he told me there is no such thing anyway (well, except for his mother, of course) and all anyone can do is their best. He must have been reading that article on “How to be the perfect Husband.”
This particular article said anyone can become the perfect mother in only six steps and the article had a difficulty rating of “moderately easy.” I thought to myself, now this is the kind of information I need. Finally, someone has boiled it down to the simplest terms and now, even I, can be the perfect mother.
Step 1: Understand your child is unique. No book, article, parenting class or lecture will give you the exact answers for your child. Take in information, then adapt it to each of your children based on his or her personality.
“Mom, are you awake?”
“Mmmgmpf.”
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“MOM!?”
“What?!”
“Your breath stinks.”
Step 2: Follow your instincts. You should know your child better than anyone else. Even mothers without the "mothering gene" have internal warnings and insights to their children that no one else has.
I was in the middle of cooking dinner so I asked my husband to help with the children. “Honey, can you go check on the kids. I told them to bring that pitching machine up to the back deck and it is taking them a long time. I think there is something wrong.”
A few minutes later . . .
“Well, I checked on them. The older one was carrying the machine and all of the balls while the little one kept hitting him over and over with a plastic bat. Is that what you were envisioning when you thought something had gone wrong?”
Step 3: Be your own kind of mom. Parenting the exact way another mother parents will not make you the perfect mother. Use your own talents and strengths to enrich your child's life and influence your family's activities and schedule.
At Easter I was purchasing eggs for the kids to color and hide in the yard. I always buy the organic eggs even though they are more expensive because I don’t want my kids pumped up with hormones from eating the eggs of steroid enhanced chickens. I was debating getting the low grade eggs for dying, since I knew that no one would be eating them and they were only for Easter activities. I stood at the egg section in the grocery store for 10 minutes trying to talk myself into the lower quality eggs but broke down and bought the expensive organic ones, ‘just in case’ one of the kids ate one hard-boiled egg while hunting for them in the yard. When I got home, unloaded the groceries and prepared the kitchen for egg coloring, I opened my package of 5 dozen organic eggs and knew right away that I should have gone for the hormone laced ones. All 5 dozen of the eggs I purchased were brown.
Step 4: Acknowledge that being a mother is trial and error. Admitting that something is or is not working is key in being a more perfect mother. Being able to identify what works, but especially what does not work allows you to make positive changes for you and your child.
I wanted my kids to learn to be responsible for themselves, and realize that they have a choice between right and wrong. I went on to talk about the fact that rules were not as important as our own internal code of morality. In the middle of my lecture my youngest son began telling me that he was going to sneak out of his room and get candy in the middle of the night and also telling me that I could not stop him. He went on to say that since “I wouldn’t know about it,” I could not punish him. I told him, “Even if I don’t know, your conscience would, and you would feel guilty because you know it would be wrong.” My oldest son then interjected with, “Mom, brother does not have a conscience.” The little one then followed it up with, “Oh, I have one. It is just that I don’t like to use it.”
Step 5: Treat this like a job. Parenting is not something that just happens. It is something that you will have to work at everyday. You have to want to do your best in this occupation to be successful and to see results.
So, I guess that means no driving the kids to school in my pajamas anymore.
Step 6: Know when to step back. Being the perfect mother does not mean that you do everything for you child. Allowing your children to grow and develop on their own will not only strengthen them as they age, but will also strengthen your relationship as mother and child.
“Mom can you carry me?”
“I can’t, you are too heavy.”
“Yes, you can. I know you can.”
“Honey, you are five years old, you can walk. Besides, we are almost back to the car.”
“I know you could carry me if you wanted to. What if there was a fire? Would you want me to burn up?! Wouldn’t you want to save me?!”
“Ok, yes, if there was a fire, then I would probably grab you and run.”
“Well, then just pretend there is a fire and pick me up!”
Based upon those 6 steps I came up with my own way of recognizing the difference between good mothers and bad mothers.
A good mother tells you that you cannot have a flamethrower for your birthday. A bad mother tells you she would have gotten you one--but they weren’t on sale.
A good mother takes you on outings and reminds you to be careful so that no one gets hurt. A bad mother barks, “Knock that off or you could get somebody killed.”
A good mother tells you to use your best manners and to be considerate of other people. A bad mother tells you that if you talk with a mouth full of food one more time she is going to force you to watch something that you don’t want to see, like the Lifetime movie marathon on a Saturday afternoon.
A good mother wants you to get into the best schools, win awards and be the most popular kid in school. A bad mother just wants you to survive childhood and not grow up to be a criminal.
Because of my own observations, and the article I read, guess which category I fell into (and which one I didn't)? My husband said I didn’t need six steps to be a “perfect mother” and he told me there is no such thing anyway (well, except for his mother, of course) and all anyone can do is their best. He must have been reading that article on “How to be the perfect Husband.”
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Seen and Heard?
I have read a glut of parenting books and articles and one thing they all have in common is that they encourage parents to talk to their kids. What I want to know is: why?
If you are a grown person and you try to talk to a child only one thing will happen, you will have an overwhelming desire to impale yourself on a sharp object. Trust me, a 20-minute conversation with a 5-year-old will get you thinking about your own demise and praying it will be soon. I have actually been in the throes of a deep conversation with my son about bazooka's and spit and found myself fantisizing about dropping a toaster in my own bath water. I don't want to be gruesome, but there is only so much time one can spend conversing about poop that resembles a brown golf ball before you want to take your own life. I speak the truth.
Even the most innocent conversation with a child can turn ugly in a second.
Them: "Ellie lost a tooth at school today."
Me: "Well good for her! That is great!"
Them: "It is not good, it is sad. because I didn't lose a tooth."
Me: "Oh honey, your teeth will come out when they are ready."
Them: "I gave it time. Everyone in my class has lost a tooth except me. I am the only one who has not lost a tooth!"
Me: "Don't worry sweetheart, it will happen soon, I promise."
Them: "Well it better, cuz I really need the money!"
Even when I try to talk to my children about serious issues, like avoiding kidnappers and staying off of drugs, my admonitions are met with some resistance.
If you are a grown person and you try to talk to a child only one thing will happen, you will have an overwhelming desire to impale yourself on a sharp object. Trust me, a 20-minute conversation with a 5-year-old will get you thinking about your own demise and praying it will be soon. I have actually been in the throes of a deep conversation with my son about bazooka's and spit and found myself fantisizing about dropping a toaster in my own bath water. I don't want to be gruesome, but there is only so much time one can spend conversing about poop that resembles a brown golf ball before you want to take your own life. I speak the truth.
Even the most innocent conversation with a child can turn ugly in a second.
Them: "Ellie lost a tooth at school today."
Me: "Well good for her! That is great!"
Them: "It is not good, it is sad. because I didn't lose a tooth."
Me: "Oh honey, your teeth will come out when they are ready."
Them: "I gave it time. Everyone in my class has lost a tooth except me. I am the only one who has not lost a tooth!"
Me: "Don't worry sweetheart, it will happen soon, I promise."
Them: "Well it better, cuz I really need the money!"
Even when I try to talk to my children about serious issues, like avoiding kidnappers and staying off of drugs, my admonitions are met with some resistance.
Me: "So boys, what would you do if someone you didn't know told you to get in their car?"
Them: "Here we go again . . . *sigh*"
Me: "Because I don't want you to go near anyone's car, especially someone you don't know. What should you do?"
Them: "Mom, did you watch some news story about somebody getting kidnapped in Topeka or something? Have you been watching 'America's Most Wanted' again?"
Me: "That is not relevant. And besides it was about someone getting taken in Akron. Regardless, this is serious. This could save your life! Now think, what would you do?"
Them: "Uh, is the answer the same as the last 50 times you asked me?"
Me: "Ok, let's try this a different way. What would you do if someone came up to you in a park and asked you to help them look for a lost dog?"
Them: "Well, if it was in the park, then I would say no. But, if it was in our neighborhood I would go ahead and go with them and asked to be paid in Kool-Aid, because you never let us have Kool-Aid and it is delicious. And then, I would punch them in the stomach."
Me: "What?! No! That is not what you are supposed to do!"
Them: "Ok, then I would grab a missile launcher and shoot them in the eye and then I would turn into a Transformer and fly into space and I would get my Autobot friends and we would destroy the evil people! And then I would find the lost dog and take him home and name him Turtle."
Me: "What . . . ?! No, no, no! That is not what I have told you to do! But before we continue, just for my own peace of mind, why 'Turtle'?"
Them: "I just think it would be a good name for a dog."
One of the articles I read recently on the web at PTA.org by Meline Kevorkian (yes, that is her real name) said that there is "power in choice" and "When you are talking to your children, give them a choice whenever possible. Allow them to feel you are talking with them and asking them rather than at them and telling them." The article made it sound so easy. So I decided to give it a try, and you know what, I don't think my kids read that article because there seems to be a slight disconnect somewhere.
Me: "What do you want to get your cousin for her birthday?"
Them: "I don't know."
Me: "Do you want to get her this?"
Them: "I don't care."
Me: "Well you can browse and select something you want to give her. Would you like to pick something?"
Them: "Not really."
Me: "Would you like me to pick out a few things and you can narrow it down?"
Them: "Whatever."
Me: "Ok, what about these three things, which do you think she would like best?"
Them: "It doesn't matter."
Me: "This one is pink and that is her favorite color, but this one is metallic and kind of funky and this one has sparkles which is also a plus. What do you think?"
Them: "Either way."
Me: "So pink, funky, or sparkles?"
Them: "Mom, who cares?! Let's just get the one you are holding, go pay for it and go home."
Me: "Good idea, thanks for helping me. I sure appreciated your input. So . . . what do you want to have for dinner?"
I don't like to beat around the bush so I am just going to say it, those parenting experts are wrong. Mostly because of how they define talking. When they put things in print like "talk to your children, but mostly listen" they are implying there is something to listen to that sounds more like actual words and less like evolutionary gutteral mumbling. I once had a child therapist tell the group of us in a parenting class to "ask questions and be open to hearing what your child has to say." I am open, but last time I checked the dictionary "hmmmpf" accompanied by a shoulder shrug is not real speech.
Me: "So how was school today?"
Them: "Fine."
Me: "Did anything interesting happen?"
Them: "No."
Me: "How are your friends doing?"
Them: "Good."
Me: "Did you have a math test today?"
Them: "Yes."
Me: "How did it go?"
Them: "Ok."
Me: "Anything you want to tell me or talk to me about?"
Them: "Nope."
Me: "Are you doing drugs?"
Them: "No."
Me: "Have you been abducted by aliens?"
Them: "No."
Me: "Did you change your underwear this morning?"
Them: "Yes."
Me: "Do you know that I love you?"
Them: "Yes mom. (eye roll) And I love you too."
Me: "Good, I am glad we had this talk."
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Keep It Simple Stupid
The other day my 4-year-old son was doing karate in the nude. Why? I have no idea. Sometimes I think it is best not to ask questions that you really don’t want to know the answer to. Why even start that conversation? It is better to just look away and pretend that you never noticed anything amiss.
I never used to believe that old saying “ignorance is bliss” but life has a way of reinforcing lessons, whether you believe them or not. Over the years I have learned that ignorance is a nice way to live. It is much easier to be happy when you don’t know what you are missing, and it is less stressful to be able to say “I don’t know,” rather than explain things all the time.
Sometimes it is better to not think of what is out there, and to remain ‘in the dark.’ It gives you freedom from trying to forget things that may be shocking or painful. For example, my husband and my son were playing “got your nose” and my husband said, “Don’t take my nose, because it is yucky.”
“Everyone’s nose is yucky Dad.”
My husband said, “Well yours looks pretty clean.”
Then my son said, “That is because I eat the stuff that is in mine.”
Anyway, it is easier to believe things that aren’t true. Like when I make my children a nutritious and well-balanced lunch. I choose to believe that they are being nourished by my care, both physically and emotionally, but in reality we are having conversations like this:
“How did you like your lunch today son?”
“It was the best lunch ever!”
“Really? You liked it that much? Wow, that is great! What was your favorite part?”
“Well, it is tough to say . . . I gave my sandwich to Nick and he gave me a Snickers bar for it! Plus, Alex gave me some chips for my yogurt, and since you put 2 cookies in my lunch, I was stuffed!”
“You traded away all of your food for junk? What about the carrots? Did you at least eat the carrots?”
“No, I just threw those away.”
Sometimes, even if what you learn is inevitable and necessary, it is better to be eased into it, because once you know something, you may wish you didn’t. Like with dating. You don’t want to know everything about someone on a first date. It destroys the mystique and usually leads to a break-up anyway. Case in point: I once met a guy at work who told me within the first 10 minutes of dating me, that he had to know my intentions. He said he needed to know whether I was serious about him or not. He hated to put pressure on me, but he needed a mother for his 4 kids, and wanted a working woman with a car, because his disability payments were running out soon and his food-stamps had been cut back, and his parents wanted him to move out of their trailer ASAP. Aaah if only we can just turn back the hands of time.
Don’t believe it when people say things like “knowledge is power” if that were true how come Einstein was never President? Smart people don’t get anywhere in life. It is the dumb, lazy people who make their mark on the world. Don’t believe me? Then how do you explain the Snuggie phenomenon, Billy Bob Teeth or the Electric Slide? Dumb people and dumb things are always in style. Americans especially, are known for gathering around, and showing support, for the village idiot. If I am wrong, then how come “The Hills” is still on television?
I started making a list of all the things I wish I had no knowledge of and after a few minutes came up with a list of 20 things I wish I didn’t know:
How fiber is affecting my facebook friends.
That my parents French Kiss.
How to imitate Bowzer from the group Sha-Na-Na.
The approximate size of animal that can be flushed down the toilet.
Where babies really come from.
The amount of calories in a Twinkie/Ho-Ho/Ding-Dong.
What sushi is made out of.
The definition of an enema.
What baby poop looks and smells like.
The words to “Video Killed the Radio Star.”
That bacon fat is bad for you.
How Gilligan and the Gang got off the island.
Where a rectal thermometer goes.
That Milli-Vanilli were lip-synching.
About Bill Clinton’s ‘relationship’ with Monica Lewinsky.
How big my bosses gallstones were, and how many he had.
What a hot-dog looks once it has been regurgitated.
How much money that dress cost my sister (42 cents at Goodwill).
There are no such things as Oompa-Loompas.
How it feels to be in the back of a police car.
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing . . . When those brain synapses’ start firing the damage is done. You can’t un-know things—you can forget, but once you know something, it can come back to haunt you at any moment. Why do you think people say things like “TMI?” Because the world we live in is now one big sea of information overload. I don’t want to go into work and hear who has the “trots” and who had garlic for lunch and who lets their dog “kiss” them on the mouth. There are just too many information junkies out there today and I say enough, is enough. Stand with me against tyranny, don’t learn anything new today! Enjoy your bliss and just stay dumb. You’ll thank me later.
I never used to believe that old saying “ignorance is bliss” but life has a way of reinforcing lessons, whether you believe them or not. Over the years I have learned that ignorance is a nice way to live. It is much easier to be happy when you don’t know what you are missing, and it is less stressful to be able to say “I don’t know,” rather than explain things all the time.
Sometimes it is better to not think of what is out there, and to remain ‘in the dark.’ It gives you freedom from trying to forget things that may be shocking or painful. For example, my husband and my son were playing “got your nose” and my husband said, “Don’t take my nose, because it is yucky.”
“Everyone’s nose is yucky Dad.”
My husband said, “Well yours looks pretty clean.”
Then my son said, “That is because I eat the stuff that is in mine.”
Anyway, it is easier to believe things that aren’t true. Like when I make my children a nutritious and well-balanced lunch. I choose to believe that they are being nourished by my care, both physically and emotionally, but in reality we are having conversations like this:
“How did you like your lunch today son?”
“It was the best lunch ever!”
“Really? You liked it that much? Wow, that is great! What was your favorite part?”
“Well, it is tough to say . . . I gave my sandwich to Nick and he gave me a Snickers bar for it! Plus, Alex gave me some chips for my yogurt, and since you put 2 cookies in my lunch, I was stuffed!”
“You traded away all of your food for junk? What about the carrots? Did you at least eat the carrots?”
“No, I just threw those away.”
Sometimes, even if what you learn is inevitable and necessary, it is better to be eased into it, because once you know something, you may wish you didn’t. Like with dating. You don’t want to know everything about someone on a first date. It destroys the mystique and usually leads to a break-up anyway. Case in point: I once met a guy at work who told me within the first 10 minutes of dating me, that he had to know my intentions. He said he needed to know whether I was serious about him or not. He hated to put pressure on me, but he needed a mother for his 4 kids, and wanted a working woman with a car, because his disability payments were running out soon and his food-stamps had been cut back, and his parents wanted him to move out of their trailer ASAP. Aaah if only we can just turn back the hands of time.
Don’t believe it when people say things like “knowledge is power” if that were true how come Einstein was never President? Smart people don’t get anywhere in life. It is the dumb, lazy people who make their mark on the world. Don’t believe me? Then how do you explain the Snuggie phenomenon, Billy Bob Teeth or the Electric Slide? Dumb people and dumb things are always in style. Americans especially, are known for gathering around, and showing support, for the village idiot. If I am wrong, then how come “The Hills” is still on television?
I started making a list of all the things I wish I had no knowledge of and after a few minutes came up with a list of 20 things I wish I didn’t know:
How fiber is affecting my facebook friends.
That my parents French Kiss.
How to imitate Bowzer from the group Sha-Na-Na.
The approximate size of animal that can be flushed down the toilet.
Where babies really come from.
The amount of calories in a Twinkie/Ho-Ho/Ding-Dong.
What sushi is made out of.
The definition of an enema.
What baby poop looks and smells like.
The words to “Video Killed the Radio Star.”
That bacon fat is bad for you.
How Gilligan and the Gang got off the island.
Where a rectal thermometer goes.
That Milli-Vanilli were lip-synching.
About Bill Clinton’s ‘relationship’ with Monica Lewinsky.
How big my bosses gallstones were, and how many he had.
What a hot-dog looks once it has been regurgitated.
How much money that dress cost my sister (42 cents at Goodwill).
There are no such things as Oompa-Loompas.
How it feels to be in the back of a police car.
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing . . . When those brain synapses’ start firing the damage is done. You can’t un-know things—you can forget, but once you know something, it can come back to haunt you at any moment. Why do you think people say things like “TMI?” Because the world we live in is now one big sea of information overload. I don’t want to go into work and hear who has the “trots” and who had garlic for lunch and who lets their dog “kiss” them on the mouth. There are just too many information junkies out there today and I say enough, is enough. Stand with me against tyranny, don’t learn anything new today! Enjoy your bliss and just stay dumb. You’ll thank me later.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Super-Scientific Test
I embarrass my children all the time. Not on purpose, but because I don't realize that being me is, in itself, embarrassing. I have tried to be more like them, but that is also embarrassing. Then I tried to be a modified version of me; less hovering, less smothering, but evidently, that is trying too hard and also embarrassing.
I guess it is just that I am so old I forget I am someone's mother and need to be reminded periodically that I should only do embarrassing things like breath and talk, when I am alone and in the house with all of the curtains and doors closed. The good news is, if you are like me, and you happen to forget, I have devised a simple, yet very scientific, test to determine if you are in fact someone's mother. Just answer these questions below. If you answer yes to any of them, you are either someone's mother or a deranged lunatic. Either way: seek help.
Ok, so here goes . . .
Have you ever caught vomit with your bare hands?
Have you ever counted crackers, a cheese stick, and raisins as a full meal?
Have you ever: signed a permission slip, broken up a fight, helped tie shoes, and combed someone's hair--all while going to the bathroom?
Have you ever consumed a half-eaten grilled cheese/peanut butter sandwich that has slobber on one side and applesauce/pudding/yogurt on the other because you are just too exhausted to make anything else for yourself to eat?
Have you ever listened to another adult talk about potty-training for 2 hours straight without your eyeballs rolling to the back of your head, and falling into a boredom induced coma, because you are so starved for companionship that you need to talk to a grown-up . . . or you will literally lose your mind?
Have you ever listened to an entire music/CD collection sung entirely by cartoon characters?
Have you ever agreed to help make an authentic mummy/civil war/roman chariot replica out of modeling compound/paper mache/styrofoam only to discover that, 12 hours into it you: 1.) Have absolutely no artistic ability, and 2.) Have no idea what you are doing?
Have you ever had to remove any type of round item (i.e., a marble, pencil eraser, piece of cereal, bead, etc.) from a child's ears, nose, and/or diaper?
Have you ever felt that it is absolutely necessary to "stack the deck" before you begin playing the game Candyland so that no one gets Plumpy near the end and starts crying and makes you start the game over, causing you to think suicidal thoughts?
Have you ever given a really obnoxious toy to a niece or nephew as revenge for a toy that was given to someone in your home?
Is the floor-board of your car permanently sticky?
Have you ever thought that eating boogers should be a capital crime?
Have you ever planned, and invited, twenty 5-year-olds to a birthday party complete with decorations, hats, games, food, cake, ice cream, favors and a pinata? And did you allow other parents to drop the children off and leave? Did you think it would be a peaceful and organized event, since you put so much time into organizing the whole thing, only to find that small children can smell fear and know how to mutiny? After the children left did you look around and say "I am never doing that again" only to turn around and do it again when the child turned 6?
Have you ever been peed on and didn't notice it right away?
Have you ever heard a noise from another room that sounded like something breaking and thought--"I do not care if a 16th century Ming Vase was just destroyed, unless someone comes in here screaming and holding a severed arm, I am not going to see what that noise is? I am too tired."
If you have ever said the phrase: "I hope that you have kids that are just like you," you are definitely someone's mother. Like I said above--get help. After all, the first step is admitting you have a problem, that is what my kids tell me.
I guess it is just that I am so old I forget I am someone's mother and need to be reminded periodically that I should only do embarrassing things like breath and talk, when I am alone and in the house with all of the curtains and doors closed. The good news is, if you are like me, and you happen to forget, I have devised a simple, yet very scientific, test to determine if you are in fact someone's mother. Just answer these questions below. If you answer yes to any of them, you are either someone's mother or a deranged lunatic. Either way: seek help.
Ok, so here goes . . .
Have you ever caught vomit with your bare hands?
Have you ever counted crackers, a cheese stick, and raisins as a full meal?
Have you ever: signed a permission slip, broken up a fight, helped tie shoes, and combed someone's hair--all while going to the bathroom?
Have you ever consumed a half-eaten grilled cheese/peanut butter sandwich that has slobber on one side and applesauce/pudding/yogurt on the other because you are just too exhausted to make anything else for yourself to eat?
Have you ever listened to another adult talk about potty-training for 2 hours straight without your eyeballs rolling to the back of your head, and falling into a boredom induced coma, because you are so starved for companionship that you need to talk to a grown-up . . . or you will literally lose your mind?
Have you ever listened to an entire music/CD collection sung entirely by cartoon characters?
Have you ever agreed to help make an authentic mummy/civil war/roman chariot replica out of modeling compound/paper mache/styrofoam only to discover that, 12 hours into it you: 1.) Have absolutely no artistic ability, and 2.) Have no idea what you are doing?
Have you ever had to remove any type of round item (i.e., a marble, pencil eraser, piece of cereal, bead, etc.) from a child's ears, nose, and/or diaper?
Have you ever felt that it is absolutely necessary to "stack the deck" before you begin playing the game Candyland so that no one gets Plumpy near the end and starts crying and makes you start the game over, causing you to think suicidal thoughts?
Have you ever given a really obnoxious toy to a niece or nephew as revenge for a toy that was given to someone in your home?
Is the floor-board of your car permanently sticky?
Have you ever thought that eating boogers should be a capital crime?
Have you ever planned, and invited, twenty 5-year-olds to a birthday party complete with decorations, hats, games, food, cake, ice cream, favors and a pinata? And did you allow other parents to drop the children off and leave? Did you think it would be a peaceful and organized event, since you put so much time into organizing the whole thing, only to find that small children can smell fear and know how to mutiny? After the children left did you look around and say "I am never doing that again" only to turn around and do it again when the child turned 6?
Have you ever been peed on and didn't notice it right away?
Have you ever heard a noise from another room that sounded like something breaking and thought--"I do not care if a 16th century Ming Vase was just destroyed, unless someone comes in here screaming and holding a severed arm, I am not going to see what that noise is? I am too tired."
If you have ever said the phrase: "I hope that you have kids that are just like you," you are definitely someone's mother. Like I said above--get help. After all, the first step is admitting you have a problem, that is what my kids tell me.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Mealtime Isn't for Sissies
It is hard to have a peaceful meal with children. During dinner my husband averts his eyes and won’t even lift his head during a meal in which children are in attendance, afraid of what he might see, afraid it might ruin his appetite. Coward.
I agree, it is difficult, but after a while you do get used to it; the many strange concoctions: applesauce and ketchup, or pudding and noodles, or eggs and peanut butter. I tell him that you can learn to tune out the fighting, the bodily sounds, the spilling of everything from milk to Pepto Bismol, and even the constant gagging. I believe that you can learn to deal with all of that, if you just remember the goal: nourish the children with healthy food and family companionship. Boy, it sounds good in the hypothetical.
I read a parenting book that said to give your kids choices and there will be less hassles at meal time.
“Do you want apple slices or grapes with lunch?”
“No.”
“Do you want strawberries?”
“Nooooooo.”
“Do you want raisins?”
“No! No!”
“Now son, you have to have some fruit. You can choose, either raisins or strawberries or grapes or kiwis or apple slices or oranges or mango or nectarines. But those are your only choices. I am serious.”
“No! No! No! I want neither! I want my Daddy!!!”
The parenting book also said that being firm would stop power struggles in their tracks.
“Mom, can I be done?”
“You hardly touched your food. You need to eat a little bit more.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“How about, if you eat two more bites of carrot and 1 bite of chicken.”
That is when the switch is thrown and your child becomes like Sybil, with their second personality being that of an ACLU lawyer used to strong-armed negotiation tactics.
“M’am, my client will pass on your first offer. Let us know when you want to come to the table with something serious.”
“Ok, how about one bite of carrot and one bite of chicken?”
“No.”
“One bite of chicken and one bite of potato?”
“Here is what we are willing to do: one bite of chicken—no marinade, no carrots, and no potatoes, no bite of roll, and absolutely no salad. Plus, we would like extra whipping cream on desert. Do we have a deal?”
Now, I recognize my part in all this, I never claimed to be a gourmet chef, but I do make an effort. I try new recipes and look through cookbooks searching for real food that the kids will eat. Even when I put out a five course meal that took hours to prepare I can tell that all they really want is a pizza. They say rude things like: “Can we just order a pizza?”
I tell them ‘just try it,’ and ‘you have to give it a chance’ but it doesn’t help. It wouldn’t be so bad except for all of the negative and inappropriate comments. Things like:
“What is this black stuff on the bread?” and “Why is the gravy greenish-blue?” And “It is gravy isn’t it?” Yes, my husband can be a tough critic, but the kids are worse, they say things like “EWWWW! Gross!” or “Look, Mom, when I do this doesn’t it look like puke?”
I guess the bright spot in all this is, thanks to the recession, the cost of food is so high we can no longer afford anything nutritious anyway. Meal time has become less of a battle. So thank you Ponzi schemers and predatory lenders, thanks to all you generally bad people and no-gooders, you have made meal-time happy for children everywhere. Macaroni anyone? There are little pieces of hot dog in it.
I agree, it is difficult, but after a while you do get used to it; the many strange concoctions: applesauce and ketchup, or pudding and noodles, or eggs and peanut butter. I tell him that you can learn to tune out the fighting, the bodily sounds, the spilling of everything from milk to Pepto Bismol, and even the constant gagging. I believe that you can learn to deal with all of that, if you just remember the goal: nourish the children with healthy food and family companionship. Boy, it sounds good in the hypothetical.
I read a parenting book that said to give your kids choices and there will be less hassles at meal time.
“Do you want apple slices or grapes with lunch?”
“No.”
“Do you want strawberries?”
“Nooooooo.”
“Do you want raisins?”
“No! No!”
“Now son, you have to have some fruit. You can choose, either raisins or strawberries or grapes or kiwis or apple slices or oranges or mango or nectarines. But those are your only choices. I am serious.”
“No! No! No! I want neither! I want my Daddy!!!”
The parenting book also said that being firm would stop power struggles in their tracks.
“Mom, can I be done?”
“You hardly touched your food. You need to eat a little bit more.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“How about, if you eat two more bites of carrot and 1 bite of chicken.”
That is when the switch is thrown and your child becomes like Sybil, with their second personality being that of an ACLU lawyer used to strong-armed negotiation tactics.
“M’am, my client will pass on your first offer. Let us know when you want to come to the table with something serious.”
“Ok, how about one bite of carrot and one bite of chicken?”
“No.”
“One bite of chicken and one bite of potato?”
“Here is what we are willing to do: one bite of chicken—no marinade, no carrots, and no potatoes, no bite of roll, and absolutely no salad. Plus, we would like extra whipping cream on desert. Do we have a deal?”
Now, I recognize my part in all this, I never claimed to be a gourmet chef, but I do make an effort. I try new recipes and look through cookbooks searching for real food that the kids will eat. Even when I put out a five course meal that took hours to prepare I can tell that all they really want is a pizza. They say rude things like: “Can we just order a pizza?”
I tell them ‘just try it,’ and ‘you have to give it a chance’ but it doesn’t help. It wouldn’t be so bad except for all of the negative and inappropriate comments. Things like:
“What is this black stuff on the bread?” and “Why is the gravy greenish-blue?” And “It is gravy isn’t it?” Yes, my husband can be a tough critic, but the kids are worse, they say things like “EWWWW! Gross!” or “Look, Mom, when I do this doesn’t it look like puke?”
I guess the bright spot in all this is, thanks to the recession, the cost of food is so high we can no longer afford anything nutritious anyway. Meal time has become less of a battle. So thank you Ponzi schemers and predatory lenders, thanks to all you generally bad people and no-gooders, you have made meal-time happy for children everywhere. Macaroni anyone? There are little pieces of hot dog in it.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Driving Me Crazy
I read a parenting book that said it is important to keep the lines of communication open with your kids and a good place to talk to them is in the car.
“Mom,” my sweet-faced little boy questioned from the backseat.
“Yes,” I answered just as sweetly.
“Do you know what boogers are?”
“Uhhhh?”
“Nose poop!” he shouted excitedly.
Yes, my kids and I have some of our best talks while driving down the road.
“Mom?”
“What dear?” I say in my best June Cleaver voice.
“What does pee taste like?”
Car rides are truly a bonding experience. Your kids have a captive audience and it is easier to hide your vacant expression when you are not facing them. Sometimes I like to eavesdrop on my children’s conversations with one another.
“Turtles do not have hair.”
“They are bald?”
“Yep. No hair at all.”
“Dad must be a turtle then.”
Sometimes when we are driving along we pass a location of interest—like a school or a park or a prison. It is a good starting point for deep and philosophical discussions.
“Mom, do you have to get arrested to see inside the jail?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Have you ever been arrested?”
“No.”
“Why, is it hard to get arrested?”
“Not really.”
“What do you have to do to get arrested?”
“Naughty things.”
“Like not eating your carrots?”
“Yes.”
You can find out a lot about your kids just by talking to them.
“Mom, I like everything about you. I like the way you smell too. Except your feet. They stink.”
You can learn about their hopes and dreams.
“Mom, I want to be a shark for Christmas.”
“A shark? For Christmas?”
“Yes. A Christmas shark. I know just what I want it to look like.”
“Why do you want to be a shark for Christmas?”
“Because no one else is a shark for Christmas.”
“Hmmm . . . .”
“Mom, did you know that sharks have to wiggle while they are sleeping, or they will die?!”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, I am going to wiggle always. Because I don’t want to die yet. Not until I am really old like you.”
Besides, it is important to learn what is going on with your kids—they are the future after all. And you need to find out which ones will need money to go to college and which ones will only need to save money for an ankle-monitoring type device.
“Mom,” my sweet-faced little boy questioned from the backseat.
“Yes,” I answered just as sweetly.
“Do you know what boogers are?”
“Uhhhh?”
“Nose poop!” he shouted excitedly.
Yes, my kids and I have some of our best talks while driving down the road.
“Mom?”
“What dear?” I say in my best June Cleaver voice.
“What does pee taste like?”
Car rides are truly a bonding experience. Your kids have a captive audience and it is easier to hide your vacant expression when you are not facing them. Sometimes I like to eavesdrop on my children’s conversations with one another.
“Turtles do not have hair.”
“They are bald?”
“Yep. No hair at all.”
“Dad must be a turtle then.”
Sometimes when we are driving along we pass a location of interest—like a school or a park or a prison. It is a good starting point for deep and philosophical discussions.
“Mom, do you have to get arrested to see inside the jail?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Have you ever been arrested?”
“No.”
“Why, is it hard to get arrested?”
“Not really.”
“What do you have to do to get arrested?”
“Naughty things.”
“Like not eating your carrots?”
“Yes.”
You can find out a lot about your kids just by talking to them.
“Mom, I like everything about you. I like the way you smell too. Except your feet. They stink.”
You can learn about their hopes and dreams.
“Mom, I want to be a shark for Christmas.”
“A shark? For Christmas?”
“Yes. A Christmas shark. I know just what I want it to look like.”
“Why do you want to be a shark for Christmas?”
“Because no one else is a shark for Christmas.”
“Hmmm . . . .”
“Mom, did you know that sharks have to wiggle while they are sleeping, or they will die?!”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, I am going to wiggle always. Because I don’t want to die yet. Not until I am really old like you.”
Besides, it is important to learn what is going on with your kids—they are the future after all. And you need to find out which ones will need money to go to college and which ones will only need to save money for an ankle-monitoring type device.
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