Category Archives: parenting

May10

Miss. Attitude 2012

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Sometimes I wonder why we thought it was a good idea to teach our kids to talk. And by sometimes, I mean today.

The was the situation in my house after school today between Beaner and me:

Mo-om, I said I wanted hot chocolate. Get it for me now!

Excuse me? Want to try that again.

Get it for me now, puh-lease!

Umm..still not good enough. Let’s get rid of all that attitude.

I. Want. Hot. Chocolate. Please. Mom. (foot stomp)

Nope- still not feeling it.

Jeez- how many times do I have to ask?! Can’t you hear?

Cut to 15 minutes later, after a time out and some time to reflect.

Ok. I’m sorry. May I please have some hot chocolate?

Absolutely. Take a seat and I’ll make it.

The Bean walks over to the one chair of the 8 she could pick that has papers on it. She sweeps them all to the floor.

Nope- absolutely not. Please pick those papers up and set them down on the table nicely.

No.

Excuse me?

No. I will not pick them up. You do it.

I didn’t make the mess, missy. You best pick them up now or no hot chocolate for you.

Fine. I didn’t want hot chocolate anyhow. It’s stupid.

People, it’s a wonder that I don’t drink living with this child.

May1

I’ll Never Be Well Rested…

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I had high hopes for last night. The Hubs told us at dinner that he had to be out of the house at 3:45 am for work. While I felt badly for him, I was thrilled for me. Since he had to go to bed uber-early, the TV would be all mine plus I could sleep in. Normally I’m up at 4:55 am during the week to work out, but if he wasn’t home, I could sleep in until 7 when we had to start getting ready for school.  Heaven.

The night started out promising- the kids went down to bed easily, the Hubs soon followed at 9 and I got to catch up on Nikita (don’t judge me). The show ended at 9:45, so I figured I’d read for 30 minutes and go to bed.  An hour later, I finally put the book down and crawled into bed at 10:45, giddy that I could get 8 hours and 15 minutes of sleep.

Not quite. This is how my night went:

12:36 am: I was being poked lightly on my cheek. When I woke up, the Bean was standing there. She wasn’t wearing the PJs I put her to bed in, she just had on thick white tights. I tried not to pee my pants in fear.  I get over it, get her back in bed and hop back into my bed- my spot was still warm. Annoying, but not the end of the world.

12:45: I put the Bean back to bed again, this time after singing her 4 songs, getting her clean tissues and turning on her bedside light. My spot in bed is no longer warm and I’m not feeling as charitable towards my child as I was the first time.

1:49: Crazy, our dog, is at the top of the stairs barking. I stumble out of bed as quick as I can so she doesn’t wake anyone else.  I take her back down stairs and see that our cable box is uploading new software. This happens a few times a month- the cable box shuts itself off and runs through a variety of programing, making little clicking noises each time it does.  Crazy hears these clicking noises and loses her mind. So I have to put her outside and wait for the damn thing to cycle through. 11 minutes later, it’s done and the freaking dog doesn’t want to come back in. So I’m standing on my back porch in my night gown reeling in my dumb dog by her run line muttering every name in the book towards this creature. Clearly, I’m not at all amused.

3:10: The alarm goes off. The Hubs has the courtesy to turn it off really quickly so I roll over and go back to bed without too much of a problem.

3:47: The Hubs wakes me up to kiss me goodbye. So sweet but that doesn’t stop me from imaging the ways I want to hurt him because he woke me up.

4:23: Scorch wake up with a bad dream. Something about the X-Men, a box and a bad guy. I frankly don’t care, so I mentally threaten him within an inch of his all the while soothing him to get him to go back to bed.  I grab his pillow pet and one of his blankets that is two inches too short and lay down on his floor because by that time I’m ready to fall asleep standing up. He blessedly falls back asleep just as I lose feeling in my arms from laying on the floor and I’m back in my bed by 4:35.

6:00: Scorch is up for the day! Which means I’m up for a few minutes while I get him settled in front of the TV. I’ve got 1 more hour before I have to get up- I’m not wasting a minute of it.

6:44: The Bean is up for the day.  Of course she is.

That is why I’m more exhausted on my day to sleep in than I have been in a long while. *yawn*

Apr30

Not For the Weak or Easily Confused

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I knew life wouldn’t be boring thanks to my kids, but lately they are making my brain hurt. In the past 24 hours, we’ve discussed:

> What an electric chair is and why it’s used (thanks, Billy Joel!)

> Why some pen!ses look different then others…

> Which lead us to a great discussion on circumcision, how it’s done and why some people do it.

> Why doing things like tooting, picking your nose and wiping your nose on your shirt isn’t acceptable (not that my kids do those things- obviously we were talking about other kids)

> And one more thing that I can’t remember because too much of my brains had already leaked onto the floor. I think it was about why Scorch needed to wear a cup for baseball, what a cup does, etc.   I had already blacked out by then.

Parenting is so kicking my butt today.

 

Apr25

It’s Not As Easy As It Looks

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On the way home from a crazy long evening of soccer and baseball, the Bean told me quite urgently that she had to go to the bathroom. Now.

As we were only 2 minutes from the house, I told her to hold it and stepped on the gas petal. The child’s been potty trained for almost 2 full years now, but still- I’m not taking chances.

When I got the Bean out of the car, she begged to go pee outside. When I told her no, she was beside herself. Scorch goes pee outside all the time and it’s not fair!  Too bad for her, it’s hard to take her seriously when she’s ranting at me while doing the potty dance in her pink polka-dotted Hello Kitty rain boots.

I got her inside in the nick of time and she did her business, but she still wasn’t done with me. Why can’t she do something that Scorch can do anytime he wants? By this time, Scorch is in on it- why can’t ladies pee outside like boys do?

And that, ladies and gentleman, is how I found myself squatting on the ground (fully clothed) giving my kids an anatomy & physics lesson on why peeing in the woods is tough on the ladies.  I’m adding that to my list of things I never thought I’d have to do in my lifetime.

Apr24

One more thing…

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Last night I didn’t set out to write a “Don’t Ignore” post for National Infertility Awareness week.  I had planned on jotting down a few sentences and linking over to one of my all time favorite posts that talked a bit about our journey to having kids and calling it a day.

But the words just kept coming.  I surprised myself- as crazy as it sounds, I didn’t know I still harbored all those feeling. The anger and insecurity and fear and sadness.  9 years and two kids later, you think I’d be over that. I guess not.

So today I will leave you with that post I meant to share yesterday. Tomorrow, I’ll be back to kid’s antics and potty humor.

*~*~

This was written on Sept 23, 2010.

It was 5 years ago this week I found out I was pregnant with Scorch.

We started out trying to build our family feeling excited and nervous and oh so very confident that a pregnancy would just happen. We’re married and in love and have always gotten what we wanted by working hard and following the rules and that is whats supposed to happen. Only sometimes, it doesn’t.

6 months into trying, my very awesome doctor ran some tests on the Hubs and I. He was fine- all systems go. I had PCOS- I didn’t ovulate on my own which is must have when trying to get pregnant.

Enter the fertility drugs. One to manage the PCOS. One to stimulate egg growth. One to force me to ovulate. It took three cycles on Clomid- three months of hot flashes, mood swings and pure nerves to finally get pregnant a year and 3 months after we started trying.  You have never, ever met two more excited people! We were bursting with the news and picked out a gazillion different ways to tell our families each one more fun and creative then the next.

We told everyone right away never thinking things could go wrong. We’re married and in love and have always gotten what we wanted by working hard and following the rules and bad things aren’t supposed to happen. Only sometimes, they do.

After our 2nd miscarriage, we pulled out the big guns. We saw a specialist and got tested to see why we were experiencing repeat pregnancy loss. Again, the Hubs was perfect. I, on the other hand, have a blood clotting issue as well as a problem with my anti-bodies which made carrying a pregnancy to term next to impossible without some serious medical intervention.

Our 3rd miscarriage came after a few failed cycles using injectables and IUIs. I had given myself daily shots of Heparin, a blood thinner,  and still I lost that pregnancy.  I. Was. Done.  My life for the past 3 years had revolved around making babies and it had consumed everything- my thoughts, our marriage, my outlook on life. No more.  The Hubs and I had a long talk and sent away for adoption literature because I was not getting on the reproductive roller-coaster again.

God had other plans.

A month after my 3rd miscarriage, a good friend (hi, Cheri!) and I were spending the weekend shopping while our husbands were away on business.  We had big plans that night to go out to a great Italian dinner and split a bottle of wine- I couldn’t wait.  I had been having a few pregnancy symptoms and although I chalked them up to the miscarriage, I thought I should test. Just in case.

I found out I was pregnant with Scorch in the bathroom of Target.  Classy, no?

This time around we switched up the blood thinner I used (thank you, Lovenox!) and tried IVIg therapy to help with my auto-immune issues.  And miracle of miracles, the pregnancy stuck.

Which is a good thing because I cannot imagine life without this kid.

Apr15

Harsh

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I am not your friend anymore!

Well, I am not your friend either!

That was a conversation we heard last night, complete with dirty looks and jutted hips, when we were at friend’s for dinner. These friends have a son in Scorch’s class and a daughter in the Bean’s class, so we see them quite frequently- it’s a huge bonus that we love hanging out with them.

Last night we showed up at their house for dinner- the boys darted off one way and the girls another. In no time at all the boys are play fighting, trying out the latest kung fu moves they picked up from TV. All is well until someone actually gets hurt. Tears flow, apologies are made, warnings are given and the boys are BFFs  again. Violent? Maybe. But simple and easy- there are no hard feelings.

But with the girls, it’s not so easy. They play wonderfully together for a good hour until it comes time to share something they both want. The girls don’t physically fight each other- but I worry their words do more damage. Threats of no longer being friends, telling each other they don’t like each other, evil stares from across the rooms as we parents talk to our respective kids. They are 3. It takes a few minutes, but thankfully they are back to being friends again soon.

But that meanness scares me. I realize that at 3, words are the only weapons kids have and I’m thrilled to see my Bean standing up for herself. But, I don’t want her to be a mean kid or to react meanly to those who aren’t nice to her. I don’t want her cutting people down- I want her to use her words to build people up, to talk through issues, to work out a plan to share the coveted toy. I realize that all that isn’t possible for a 3 year old and that those skills will evolve.  Until then, it’s the Hubs and my job to guide her not only with our words, but our actions as well. I make sure she and Scorch see us working on and resolving issues with kindness, fairness and empathy- not with harsh words and threats.

She’ll get there, I know she will- I just hope her words, and those of her friends, don’t get much sharper in the meantime.

 

 

Apr4

The Other F Word

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Dear person who taught my son the word “fart,”

I don’t like you. At all.

*sigh* Like a lot of words, I’m finding that some sound very different when coming out of the mouth of an adult versus that of a child. And lately that word for me is fart. We have always used the word “toot” before- it just sounded softer and kinder.  But within the past few months, Scorch learned the word fart and I swear to you he drops it at least 2 dozen times a day.

He’s not using it to call people names or anything, he’s just simply saying it all. the.damn. time. to himself because the boy never stops talking. If he’s not talking to us, he’s talking to himself or his sister or the cats or the dog and somehow that word gets weaved in there. It’s a noun, adjective and verb all rolled into one given the creative ways this child finds to use it. We remind him a gazillion times a day that that word is Not Allowed and that may stop him for 5 minutes, but he’s at it again in no time. When we yell at him, he simply says that he forgot.

So, I’m trying to figure out when to let this one go. His friends use it. The older kids he knows use it. Heck, his father has been known to use the word in front of him before. I realize that on the scale of unacceptable words, this one is pretty low on the list but it’s like nails on a chalkboard to me. Think I’ll eventually become immune?

Mar20

Funny Bone

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The kids were riding bikes on the driveway after work today and they decided to race. The Big Wheel vs the 2 Wheeler- not really a fair fight but they were having a great time until the Bean decided to cheat.  Scorch got mad and yelled for her to “turn yourself around!”

I couldn’t resist so I asked him if he was going to ask her to do the hokey pokey?

Dumb, dumb joke but Scorch laughed so hard he had tears running down his face.  He had to sit down to catch his breath after the hysterics subsided and he told me I was the funniest person he knows.

That really why I had kids you know. I wanted a captive audience who were good for my ego.

Feb22

Not Our Best Day

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So…today? Not a great day.

The kids were good as gold this morning. I remember sitting there patting myself on the back because they were being such angels. Since school is on break this week, they got to spend the day at their BFFs house (thankfully their BFFs are siblings the same age as my kids).  I received frequent texts throughout the day telling me what great guests my kids were, how wonderfully the kids were playing, what good manner they hand and on and on.

I picked my kids up 15 minutes before the mom had a phone call she needed to take for work. Before dropping the kids off that morning, I prepped them for that- they knew when I showed up we had to hustle out of there. They agreed to it- but as most things with kids, the theory works out a lot better then the practice.

When I showed up Scorch flat out refused to leave. He sat on the playroom floor with his arms crossed and big tears rolling down his cheeks- he wanted to stay and that was that.   Well, so sad for him because that wasn’t that.  After coaxing him off the floor, out of the room and down the stairs we had to pause for the Bean to put on her shoes. That’s when Scorch made a break for it- he wanted to play some more. *sigh*  So I got the Bean situated and out the door and then went to get Scorch. I kid you not when I tell you I had to 1) carry him out the door and 2) pry his fingers off the door jam as his sobbed and screamed that he didn’t want to go.

Hi! Mortification? So nice to see you again.

I set him down on the porch and the wild animal who replaced my son screamed at me “I hate you!” loud enough for the whole entire neighborhood to hear.  So- I did what any rational parent would do. I sat my kid down in the drizzle in the muddy grass and made him sit there in time out on our friends wet lawn while I got the Bean in the car. I didn’t know if I was going to laugh or cry at that point, so I just ignored him while I collected myself.

Unfortunately after that fun, we didn’t have time to go home. We had a bunch of errands to run that included a stop at the library. Thankfully Scorch pulled himself together by the time we arrived there because the Bean decided to assert herself. Some how, over night, the Bean lost her ability to whisper. So everything- everything- in the library was said as loudly as possible. If I asked her to lower the volume, she cranked it up a notch.  Thank goodness we were in the Children’s room and her volume wasn’t out of place, but the defiance just about killed me.

Between the scene at our friends house, the errands in between and our 45 minute stop at the library, I had already sweated through my t-shirt. But we weren’t done- oh no. We still had to go to Ash Wednesday Mass at the local college.

Due to the Hub’s work schedule, I was flying solo at this mass, something I try to avoid like mad. But it was this mass or not being able to go at all, so I sucked it up. I figured since it was a college campus, mass wouldn’t be crowded. Yeah- wrong. There was no parking, so by the time we found a spot we were running late.  We hiked it in the pouring rain to the chapel and realized after we got there that I forgot the kid’s backpack with all their church toys (coloring books, crayons, snacks, etc). I had nothing in my purse besides my wallet, tissues and empty gum wrappers- and I had to make all that entertaining enough to last us an hour.

So that’s how I sweated through my sweater all while playing RockPaperSissors with Scorch and having thumb wars with the Bean for 60+ minutes. Thankfully most college kids think little kids are cute and don’t seem to mind having their pews kicked, hair accidentally pulled and potty words sung out loud during Communion.

Tomorrow has got to be easier, right?!

Jan31

Mean Mom

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“Jeez Mom- you are so mean!”

I had to bit my tongue when Scorch told me that this morning.

Yes, I am mean* when I’ve asked you to get dressed 10 times and you ignored me.

Yes, I am mean when I’ve asked you to clean up and you keep telling me 1 minute. After the 5th time, I snap.

Yes, I am mean when it’s 10 pm and you’re still awake and won’t stop talking.

Yes, I am mean when you push your sister (or vice versa) after being told for the hundredth time to keep your hands to yourself.

I love you, little boy, with my whole heart, but you are making me crazy. I full expected you to loose your teeth when you were five, I didn’t expect you to lose your hearing as well.

*Mean = standing next to Scorch while he does what ever he was supposed to do/putting kids in time out. As The Hubs (a cop) says, my kids really don’t understand the true meaning of mean (thank goodness!).