Category Archives: parenting

Jun28

Turning the Tables

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When Scorch was born, my sister Red considered herself a bit of a baby guru.  She didn’t have any kids of her own, but she did have a really big hand in helping raise her best friend’s baby.  She and her best friend were military wives and their husband’s were deployed when her friend’s baby came- so Red was the birth coach and the co-parent for the first few months.  Which was awesome- but it also meant that Red had opinions on a lot of things. Some things were really helpful- like, as stupid as it sounds, how to properly pack a diaper bag without bringing everything with you.  But some of the advice I just ignored because while it sounded good, actually using it was a whole different story.

From the day he was born, Scorch wasn’t a great sleeper (not much has actually changed there).  The Hubs and I were at our wits end trying to figure out how to get this child to sleep.  Red and my Mom would always tell me to let him fuss, to let him cry, that it won’t hurt him.  But…but…but…that was my baby! There was no way I could let my poor sweet exhausted gorgeous child cry!!**  We went round and round over that little piece of advice for ever and, at the end of the day, I never let Scorch cry it out.

But now- now the tables are turned! Baby Lala, my sweet niece, is almost 7 months old and sleeps fantastic at night (seriously, I’m jealous), but her napping situation is another story.  I have to say, I take so much enjoyment out of throwing that “just let her fuss” line back into Red’s face that it’s almost criminal.  I love watching her squirm and come up with all the excuses I did when faced with the same advice  because what sounded good in theory seems damn near impossible when it’s your own kid.

**All that said, we did let the Bean cry it out (checking on her every 10 mins, never letting her get too worked up) the day she turned 6 months old. After 2.5 years of not sleeping at all, she and her brother left us no choice. And I never once regretted it.

Jun23

Love Thursday: The Do Over

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Today was Scorch’s last day of school, so we decided to celebrate by going out to dinner.  Yeah- super awesome, right?

Wrong.

In the 30 minutes it took for me to finish working, the Hubs to get home and us to leave the house there were fights about:

1) Where to go- Scorch wanted to go to McDonald’s which was voted down by everyone else in the family.  The tears shed over this decision could have filled up our baby pool.

2) Footwear- the kids recently discovered a pair of flip flops that were Scorch’s last year (he hated them last year, btw).  They are too small for Scorch and too big for the Bean- but it doesn’t stop them from fighting over them like rabid dogs.

3) Hitting & lack of personal space- I don’t know what is going on, but for the past month Scorch has been hitting all. the. time. Not in anger, but just because he feels like coming up to you and punching you.  It’s infuriating.  And if he’s not smacking you, he’s trying to drape himself on you to lavish you with kisses and hugs and squeezes, which after getting hit about a dozen times a day, you don’t really want.

4) Whether or not we can watch a movie in the car. We have a DVD player in our van. The rule of thumb is that we don’t watch it around town- only for trips 30 mins or longer. The only time we do use it around town is on Friday mornings on the way to school if the kids have earned the privilege by being good all week long.  That’s it- thems the rules and after a year of owning this car, you’d think the kids would know that by now.  Apparently not given the fit they both threw.

Needless to say, the kids weren’t at their best tonight and, frankly, neither was I.  After dealing with all the arguments, I actually yelled “You’re acting like….” to the kids. But I walked away before I could finish the sentence because I didn’t want to add name calling to my list of sins.  It was bad enough I was yelling, no need to take it further.

After dinner (which actually went well), we came home and got ready for bed, and then all piled into Scorch’s bed for a family discussion.  We talked about bad behavior and how no means no (as in please stop crying and pleading when we’ve made a decision) and all that fun stuff. I also apologized for my yelling earlier and told the kids that while they work on their behavior, I’ll work on my patience. At the end of our discussion, Scorch says “Don’t worry Mom, we’ll just have a do-over tomorrow.”

And thank goodness for that because I really do love those kids and I would hate to have to sell them to the circus.

Jun21

Seriously, What Were We Thinking?

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There are many, many times I look around at my kids and I wonder who in the world thought the Hubs and I were smart enough and mature enough to be parents.  Come on now- when I picture myself I still picture 17 year old me, I don’t picture 32 year old me with my two kids, a house, a 401K & two car payments.

Most of the time the Hubs and I keep our 17 year olds in check around the kids.  The key is to make them think we’re mature and responsible even if we’re not, otherwise they’ll start running this crazy house. But every once in a while we slip up and then I walk around wondering what in the hell we were thinking.

Like why in the world did the Hubs think it was funny to show my 5 year old, the King of Potty Jokes, the “pull my finger” gag? Funny at the time? Yes.  Funny when his pre-school teacher tells you how Scorch shared the joke with his friends during classtime? Ummm…no.

And why did I think telling Scorch what a wedgie was was a good idea? Now I have a kid who throws the word into every conversation he can when he’s not too busy yanking up his own pants or, worse yet poor Bean’s pants, to show us just what a wedgie is.

How about laughing the first time the Bean tooted in the tub and bubbles came to the surface? That was funny once, now it’s just getting old as she screams for us to see what she’s doing every single time she’s taking a bath.

And while I still think telling our kids the anatomically correct names for their private parts was/is a good idea, it has come back to bite me a time or two when the Bean yells out in the middle of the grocery store that her pen.is hurts.  And when I very quietly remind her that she does not actually have a pen.is, she says just as loudly as before, “Oh I meant my vag.ina.”  Yup, I know you did kid. Thanks for sharing with everyone within a 20 foot radius.

I’m not quite sure when you’re deemed mature enough to raise kids, but honestly, I don’t think the Hubs and I are there yet.

Jun16

Love Thursday: Goal!

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It’s been another one of those weeks- you know, the ones that drag on forever.  Scorch has a week left in school and is completely off the wall.  The boy is hyper and rude and completely past the point of listening- he’s making all of us crazy.  And the poor Bean is 1) sick with a fever and 2) bearing the brunt of a lot of Scorch’s craziness.  He’s made it his personal mission in life to pester his little sister- bossing her around, stealing her stuff, trying to physically make her do things- the list goes on and it typically ends with one (or both) of them crying.

Most nights this week I’ve gone to bed frazzled, thinking about how many times I lost my temper (usually too many) and how many empty threats I threw out while trying to keep the peace (also too many) and wondering why in the heck we decided having kids was a good idea.

Then, thank God, we have nights like tonight that make up for all that.  We decided about 15 minutes before bedtime that a family soccer game was in order before putting the kids down for bed.  So outside we went and we played hard.  We ran, we raced, we knocked each other down (by we, I mean Scorch and Bean), and we kept score.  I was honestly a little worried- Scorch is a pretty competitive kid and his MO lately when he loses is to throw a monster fit and yell about how unfair life is.

I held my breath when the Bean got to score the last goal of the night- I was sure this was going to send Scorch over the edge and damper our great night.  But the boy surprised me.  He went right up to his little sister, picked her up off the ground and yelled happily “You did it, baby girl!”

Ah- now I remember why I had those monsters!

 

Jun14

So It Begins

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Earlier today we were watching a trailer for “Puss in Boots” on YouTube with the kiddos.  When the video ended, YouTube showed a list of other videos we may be interested in.  One of them caught Scorch’s eye and he points to it and asked, “Is that Justin Bieber?”

Choking back a laugh, I tell him that it is and I ask him how in the world he knows who Justin Bieber is.

“School.”

About an hour later, I was in the bathroom with the kids helping Scorch get ready for bed.  He pipes up and says, “Hey, isn’t Hannah Montana another singer?  And Taylor Swift too?”

I tell him they are and he tells me the list of kids in his class who listen to those artists.  I tell him the reason all those kids listen to those musicians is because they have older siblings who like them.  Since Scorch doesn’t have any older brothers and sisters, he’ll have to make due with the music we all like.

“Like who?”

“Like Laurie Berkner or the Imagination Movers.  And Jimmy Buffett and the Zac Brown Band. Dave Matthews and Bruce Springsteen.”

Scorch sighs loudly and says, “I really don’t want to talk to you about this any more. You’re clearly not cool.”

I really thought I had at least another 5 years before the kid figured that out!

Jun13

Getting Over Myself

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I come from a family of jocks. We covered a range sports in my family- soccer, football, basketball, softball, tennis and lacrosse.  And when I say “we,” I really mean my father, sister and brother- Mom and I were very happy cheering on the sidelines without breaking a sweat.  But even though I wasn’t an athlete, I was definitely more of tomboy growing up.  I spent my summers climbing trees, riding bikes and swimming.

When I changed schools in 3rd grade, I was mystified by these girlie girls in my new class. All the girls were in Girl Scout, piano lessons and danced- things I knew nothing about.  So I did what any self-respecting, scared 3rd grader did when presented with things I didn’t understand and wasn’t included in- I acted like I was way too cool for them anyhow. While I made friends with these girls, I never got sucked into things like dance and cheerleading- they simple just weren’t for me.

But now I have kids and all of a sudden what wasn’t for me may be for for my kids.

For example, Scorch brought home paperwork from the school last week asking me if he wants to start taking violin lessons.  I was worse at music then I was at sports- in fact, I was asked to leave the 5th grade orchestra because I was so bad.  The Hubs isn’t any more musically inclined then I am, so our first inclination was to throw the paperwork out and be done with it.  But…what if Scorch really does want to play?  What if he actually does have some talent?  What if by exposing home to music now, we change the course of his life? The problem is, Scorch is 5- he has no idea what he wants to do. Do we commit him to a semesters worth of lessons (that aren’t cheap) just to ensure we’re not holding him back or do we go with our gut and say “Not right now”?

Beaner turns 3 this year, which means she can start dance lessons in the fall.  Most of the Bean’s friends take dance and I get asked a few times a month when we’re going to sign her up.  My first response is to laugh and say never because I sat thru years of dance recitals supporting my friend and hated every single minute of them.  I don’t want to doom myself to more years of that.  But again, this isn’t about me- this is about my daughter who, at age 3, has no idea what she wants.

Honestly, my first inclination for all these lessons, whether they be music or dance, is to wait a few years until my kids can speak for themselves with a bit more authority and stick to the things we as a family all love, like soccer and t-ball.  That is most likely what we’ll do, but I know the time is coming when I’m going to have to step out of my comfort zone and let my kids try something that makes me cringe inside.

 

Jun9

Camp Pitcha Fit

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One of the biggest joys and one of the biggest challenges to me about raising kids is how the game is always changing. Once I feel like I’ve got something down pat, the kids grow up, the friends change and I’m left wondering what to do.  Here is my latest in the “How in the World do you Handle This?” chronicles.

Scorch had a t-ball game tonight.  The game itself went fine and Scorch had a great time playing and hanging with his friends.  After the game ,we celebrated one of the coaches birthdays with cake and took our time leaving the field.  Scorch wanted to play more ball, so I pitched to him for a while and, like most times, one of the other little boys wanted to play too.  So, after Scorch had a few hits, it was this little boy’s turn.  We are good friends with this little boy’s family and we see them socially at least once a week.  Scorch and this kid have a good relationship- but it’s always been very competitive.

So, this little boy gets up to bat and Scorch says he’s going to be the catcher only he says it rather softly and is standing off to the side- not at all in the normal catcher’s position.  The little boy missed my first pitch and the ball falls by his feet so he picks it up and throws it back to me.  Scorch doesn’t say anything.  Again, I pitch and the little boy misses and he throws it back to me. This time Scorch speaks up and says he wants to be the catcher so to let him get the ball.  The third time the little boy fouls the ball and lands at his feet, so he scoops it right up and throw it back to me.

Scorch lost his ever loving mind.  He starts crying, which is the normal Scorch reaction.  I try to calm him down by telling him that the little boy was just trying to help, it’s not a big deal, he can get the next ball.  That doesn’t work because next Scorch started yelling at the little boy telling his that he was the catcher, the little boys shouldn’t have caught the ball and on and on.  I quickly put the kabosh on the yelling, and tell Scorch to apologize right now because we do not yell at our friends.  Scorch yells out an apology (not at all sincere) and then starts yelling about how this little boy owes him an apology too.

At this point, I don’t know what to do, so we just simple say goodbye and dragging our crying screaming child with us. On the drive home, Scorch keeps it up- telling me over and over how this little boy owed him an apology for not letting him pick up the ball.  I tell Scorch that’s not the way it works, the little boy didn’t do anything wrong, that Scorch shouldn’t yell at his friends- but I could tell I didn’t make a dent in his little head.

So what do you do in that situation? Is there is a different way to deal with it as it was unfolding? Do we have Scorch call this little boy tomorrow and apologize sincerely (I say yes, the Hubs says no as Scorch already did apologize at the field)?  How in the world do you handle a situation when your kid gets so mad at a friend that he just can’t be reasoned with keeping in mind that Scorch has just turned 5?

Jun6

Battle Ready

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Every time I’ve completely freaked out when my kids have vomited, I’ve always told myself that I would redeem myself as a mother and a caretakers when there was blood and/or broken bones.  I’d keep a calm head, I wouldn’t panic and I’d absolutely, positively not hide in my laundry room for 15 minutes at a time like I do now when someone pukes.

The only problem is that my self soothing was all theoretical as I had never had to test my theory with anything other then minor scrapes and bumps so far.  Until this weekend.

Saturday morning, I ran my first 5K (yeah!) and even made it back home in time for the last inning of Scorch’s t-ball game.  I was thrilled, the kids were thrilled and the Hubs was thrilled because he didn’t have to deal with Hurricane Bean all the while trying to help coach.  I watched Scorch and his team bat and then got pulled away when they were in the field because Bean and her buddies wanted to play their own toddler t-ball game and I was the star pitcher.  All was well until I heard Scorch cry out and one of the moms grabbed me and told me he got hit in the nose with the ball.  I turned in time to see the the Hubs scoop Scorch, with his bleeding face, up and run him to the bathroom.

It’s go time.  I’m ready. I have my water bottle to clean away the blood and a pack of tissues one of the other moms thrust at me as I ran by.  I’m very concerned, but I’m not panicked and best of all- I’m running towards my kid and his bodily fluids, not away from him.  Clearly, I am Super Mom.

Only problem is, I’m married to a former EMT and general do-gooder- just the kind of man who you want around when bad things happen, except during times you’re trying to redeem yourself.  The Hubs took charge and basically wouldn’t let me near Scorch until he assessed his wounds, cleaned him up and calmed him down.  And Scorch, bless his little heart, was totally and completely fine with that as Daddy had already proven himself in battle time and again.

Thankfully, Scorch is totally fine. The ball hit him in the lips, not the nose.  While his lips were swollen and cut, he didn’t need any stitches and kept all his teeth.  As for me, I’ll wait as long as it takes (hopefully a really really long time- like never) to prove myself again.

Jun2

Love Thursday: Matters of the Heart

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We were gone for 14 hours last Saturday, spending a full day with family celebrating Baby Lala’s baptism. It was a fantastic day, but a long one and I was bound and determined to spend my Sunday at home catching up on the multitude of things I had to do.  We all got up bright and early on Sunday and the Hubs soon left to go pick up the dog from the kennel.  The kids were doing great playing, so I decided to take a quick shower while they were busy.

While I was in the shower, the Bean had managed to dump out every drawer in her room as well as our coat closest.  She told me she packing her things to go to Church.  Now, while I appreciated her initiative, I didn’t appreciate the extra work she just laid at my feet.  So when a friend called to see if we wanted to go to a nearby lake for the rest of the morning to go swimming, I jumped at the chance because clearly my kids were not in the cleaning mood.

When we got to the lake, another family was pulling in with kids right around Scorch’s age.  A while later at the water’s edge, the other mom and I started making small talk like two strangers do when their kids are playing.  In the course of the conversation, this mom told me that her child, who is 5 like Scorch, had his 6th heart attack just two weeks prior.  I had to ask her to repeat herself because I was sure I mis-heard her.  5 years don’t have heart attacks- let alone a multitude of them.  Sadly, I had heard her correctly- her child was born with a congenital heart defect and had his first attack when he was 2.

Later that night I was laying in bed telling the Hubs about the family we met and I couldn’t stop thinking of how freaking lucky my family is.  I spent a lot of time over the past month complaining about the Virus from Hell and the Bean’s demonic possession, but the fact of the matter is, my family is healthy and I love them with everything I have. I can’t imagine how this other family goes through life making the most of everything, all the while waiting for the other shoe to drop.

While I can’t promise to get less frustrated or not to yell because as much as I love my little people, they make me crazy- I can promise you that I’ll be that much more appreciative of them now. I can promise to try to find the humor in watching the Bean try to stuff a pile of clothes as big as her into a teeny-tiny backpack.  I can promise I won’t tell my kids that I’ll play with them later because I have to pick up/do laundry/put the dishes away.  I can promise to tell my kids each and every day how much I love them and how lucky I am to have them.

May17

Be Careful What You Wish For

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Two weeks ago, the Hubs and I left on 4.5 day road trip down to VA and NC to spend some time with family and friends and attend a much anticipated wedding.  I was so excited about this trip- the Hubs and I love road trips, we travel well together and we were going to see a lot of people we love.  It wasn’t a the most romantic or exotic of trips, but- hey, it was time away just the two of us and we were running with it.  The trip was fantastic and we so much fun!

The only rain cloud hanging over my head was the timing of an upcoming business trip- we arrived back home late on Sunday and I had to leave for a 3 days business trip to TX 18 hours later.  Normally I love traveling for business. I work from home, so I always enjoy seeing my coworkers, eating out and sleeping uninterrupted on the company’s dime. But this time because both trips were back to back, I was less then thrilled.  This was my longest time away from my kids and I knew I was going to miss them terribly and was feeling all sorts of guilty wishing I could spend more time with them. But I sucked it up, enjoyed my time in TX and very happily arrived the airport 2 hours early for my flight home. But it wasn’t meant to be.

The flight was delayed by more then 4 hours due to bad weather in Dallas. The delay caused me to miss my connecting flight in Newark, NJ.  After some scrambling when I was in TX, I found a hotel in Newark to stay at until I could catch the next flight home in the morning.  I think the hotel, a Hilton, was nice- but considering I only spent 4.5 hours in it (4.3 of which were spent sleeping), I can’t be entirely sure.  However, motherhood and all it’s lack of sleep prepared me well and I arrived back at the airport at 6 am smelling as fresh as I could be in the same clothes I’d been wearing for 24 hours (checked luggage- with all my clothes- couldn’t leave the airport for security reasons).

After I checked into my flight, I called home.  The Hubs answered with a “If you’re calling to tell me your flight is delayed I’m going to lose it.”  Hmmm…not the greeting I expected.  Turns out the Bean was up the whole night before throwing up every hour which meant no sleep for the Hubs and the Bean.  Quite honestly, at that point, my delay seemed like God sparing me from what I hated most, so I was almost cheerful as I waited for my 8 am flight. I got myself a nice breakfast, I enjoyed my book and I savored the last hour of me-time I had before descending back into the House of Vomit.

And thank God I did.  Since I got home last Thursday, I haven’t left the house for longer then 2 hours at a time and the time I have been home I’ve had a child draped over me.  The Bean was sick Wednesday night through Saturday night.  She finally started to perk up on Sunday just in time for Scorch to catch the bug and spend all Sunday night into Monday throwing up.  People- I was the one who got up with him the first time he woke  up feeling poorly.  I didn’t realize what was coming, he didn’t realize what was coming and it was ugly.  I’m still patting myself on the back for not running out of this house in horror.  And it didn’t stop for 17 hours.  That poor kid was leveled and the Hubs and I were walking Zombies.

Thankfully we have gotten past the puking part (please God, let it be over) and we’re just into the part of the virus where Scorch has a high fever and can fall asleep anywhere. Like in the bath, like he did today.  The Bean is completely back to normal and making us all freaking crazy. I called Mary, our nanny, this morning and begged her to take the Bean somewhere- anywhere- today for a few hours before I completely lost my mind.  Beaner didn’t sleep well for whatever reason last night, which turned her in to raging psychopath all day long.  She’d rain down the wrath of avenging angels  on your head if you didn’t give her the yogurt covered pretzels exactly how she asked for him.  And if you didn’t sit on the couch next to her just right? May heaven help you, because she had no pity for your stupidity and lack of mind reading abilities.

So, I wished for more time with my kids and I got it.  It’s just not exactly how I pictured it and frankly all of us are too tired, too ill or too sick of each other to enjoy much of it.