In the faraway Land of Odd....
It makes perfect sense to barge into the bathroom to monitor Mommy's toilet paper usage and then offer to help her wipe.
It makes total sense to use brother as a Kleenex.
It makes total sense to use Mommy as a Kleenex.
It makes total sense to barrel into the bedroom while Daddy is getting dressed, yell "nakey buns", smack him in the behind, and then run out again.
It makes total sense to roll play your demons out in the back seat, complete with sound effects and hand flailing.
It makes perfect sense to lay at the bottom of the slide, head facing the top, so that brother can slide down and play "Bocce-Noggins" with you.... repeatedly.
It makes total sense to discuss your underwear choice with the checkout lady at the grocery store... and then let it slip that we "had to throw some Spiderman underwear in da trash because mah weiner was pokin' out!".
It makes total sense to poke yourself in the eye with a fork when asked to take another bite of dinner.
It makes total sense to breakdance anywhere at anytime, all the time.
It makes total sense to do a naked Haka after every bath. Every. Bath.
It makes total sense (AND ensures your survival) when you can go from screaming heathen beast to snuggle-angel in 2.8 nanoseconds.
All of this, and much much more... in the faraway Land of Odd.
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Monday, September 23, 2013
Thursday, August 15, 2013
I call a Do-Over!
"Yeah... *sigh with forehead rubbing* those are mine." Those two filthy, nose picking, possibly spider-eating, bruise-covered, pooting, burping, wiggling heathens are mine.
This week has been interesting... comedy-of-errors interesting. Aaaand it's not even Friday...
Let's start with Monday, shall we?
Sass: Two boo-boo reports resulting in a decently bloodied knee and banged up nose.
Sprinkles: A diaper blowout that had the teacher using phrases like "crawled up her back" and "Chernobyl-esque"...
Tuesday:
Sass insists that Sprinks be "Spider Girl" to his Spiderman but she may have taken this to heart and too far...
I walk into Sprinks school room to pick her up and, instead of smiles and hellos from her teachers, I get "We need to show you something." and dead-eyed stares. "Okay", I say wondering what devilish debauchery my sweet little daughter has been party to... this time. The lead teacher walks over, like a pall bearer at a funeral, a crumpled up paper towel clutched out in front of her. It must be contagious by the way she is holding it. "We found her playing with this." she says very seriously. A turd? I think to myself. I can handle that AND it wouldn't be the first time anyway...
The teacher slowly and carefully peels back a corner of the towel to reveal... a giant crumpled up spider. Both teachers go silent, waiting for my reaction. In lieu of screeching like a banshee while leaping backwards fast enough to shed my own skin in a desperate attempt to put some distance between myself and my most hated of enemies I say "Oh. Well. Hmmmm.... It's missing its abdomen. I wonder if somebody has spider breath?" Shocked silence coats the room while I sweetly smile down at my tiny, organic vacuum cleaner. "Oh and don't worry... it's not a Brown Recluse (which is why I knew they were afraid to show it to me as they are relatively common here). It's too big and its legs are banded. It's a Wolf Spider of some sort." More shocked silence.
As I forced myself to pick up my innocent little muffin while trying desperately to suppress my gag reflex and convince my subconscious that she WASN'T covered in nasty, filthy spider hairs, I realized I probably hadn't handled that well. "Spider, Mommy?" she cooed sweetly. "Yes, sweetie... that's a spider. But we really shouldn't play with those..." *hack, wretch, gag*
No sense in the next generation inheriting my all-encompassing and paralyzing fear of the eight-legged, right?
*shudder* I need a shower....
Wednesday:
Yeah... we got a call from school that someone had unsuccessfully played "Superman" off some playground equipment and is now 2/3rds angry, swollen noggin. Did I mention that we are on a first name basis with our pediatrician? He's fine, btw... he got his Daddy's skull....
*sigh*
I fear for today, Friday, and Saturday... oh, and Sunday. Betcher britches it starts all over again on Monday, too....
This week has been interesting... comedy-of-errors interesting. Aaaand it's not even Friday...
Let's start with Monday, shall we?
Sass: Two boo-boo reports resulting in a decently bloodied knee and banged up nose.
Sprinkles: A diaper blowout that had the teacher using phrases like "crawled up her back" and "Chernobyl-esque"...
Tuesday:
Sass insists that Sprinks be "Spider Girl" to his Spiderman but she may have taken this to heart and too far...
I walk into Sprinks school room to pick her up and, instead of smiles and hellos from her teachers, I get "We need to show you something." and dead-eyed stares. "Okay", I say wondering what devilish debauchery my sweet little daughter has been party to... this time. The lead teacher walks over, like a pall bearer at a funeral, a crumpled up paper towel clutched out in front of her. It must be contagious by the way she is holding it. "We found her playing with this." she says very seriously. A turd? I think to myself. I can handle that AND it wouldn't be the first time anyway...
The teacher slowly and carefully peels back a corner of the towel to reveal... a giant crumpled up spider. Both teachers go silent, waiting for my reaction. In lieu of screeching like a banshee while leaping backwards fast enough to shed my own skin in a desperate attempt to put some distance between myself and my most hated of enemies I say "Oh. Well. Hmmmm.... It's missing its abdomen. I wonder if somebody has spider breath?" Shocked silence coats the room while I sweetly smile down at my tiny, organic vacuum cleaner. "Oh and don't worry... it's not a Brown Recluse (which is why I knew they were afraid to show it to me as they are relatively common here). It's too big and its legs are banded. It's a Wolf Spider of some sort." More shocked silence.
As I forced myself to pick up my innocent little muffin while trying desperately to suppress my gag reflex and convince my subconscious that she WASN'T covered in nasty, filthy spider hairs, I realized I probably hadn't handled that well. "Spider, Mommy?" she cooed sweetly. "Yes, sweetie... that's a spider. But we really shouldn't play with those..." *hack, wretch, gag*
No sense in the next generation inheriting my all-encompassing and paralyzing fear of the eight-legged, right?
*shudder* I need a shower....
Wednesday:
This.
Yeah... we got a call from school that someone had unsuccessfully played "Superman" off some playground equipment and is now 2/3rds angry, swollen noggin. Did I mention that we are on a first name basis with our pediatrician? He's fine, btw... he got his Daddy's skull....
*sigh*
I fear for today, Friday, and Saturday... oh, and Sunday. Betcher britches it starts all over again on Monday, too....
Friday, August 2, 2013
Mommy Molding
As I slowly waddle around, scaring the crap out of people in elevators (I can almost hear them thinking "Just please don't let her pop in here!"), I have had a lot more time to think. I mentally map all of the closest bathrooms, just in case the grublet decides it's time to polka on my bladder. I wonder about how life is going to change with our third edition. I compare "then and now"... you know.. the whole pre-kids vs. post kids thing... and I have come to a couple of conclusions about who I was "then" as opposed to who I am "now". Becoming a parent has definitely made me...
Resourceful
Not in the "Naked and Afraid" kind of way (Btw, if you haven't seen that show, you should. It will make you appreciate that we made it as a species AT ALL. That, and the girls usually kick the guys butts.) but in the "Oh no. I for got the wipes and her diaper is hanging so low we will have to avoid speed bumps on the way to the car. Time to MacGyver some Wet Ones out of 2 panty liners and a week old bottle of water." kind of way.
Unsympathetic
Not to boo-boos and nightmares, mind you, but to childless folks who tell me they are tired or talk about how their most recent vacay didn't turn out as planned.
Proud
I made this. That's right, folks! This nose diving, super-blurr of knock-knock jokes and unrestrained public farts grew inside me. I MADE PEOPLE (with Hubbs, of course)... what have YOU done for the human race lately?
Hearing Impaired
I don't know about you guys, but I seem to have lost the ability to hear screaming and rattling around upstairs or outside until it is band-aid worthy. It's really weird.
Appreciative
... of people who will watch my children for a night out with the Hubbs.
... of frozen meatballs and Prego with canned green beans.
... of Diaper Genies and spray on sunscreen and all those other little conveniences that make life easier than it was 10 years ago.
... of lots of things I never would have even noticed B.K. (Before Kids... as opposed to A.K. - After Kids)
Aware
Where does the time go? It is speeding by, faster than time should, and now they are no longer babies. They are little people who can dress themselves (sort of) and tell me what they want for dinner (mostly fruit snacks) and wipe their own butts (weeeeellll... kinda). Wait! Stop! It's all happening too quickly!
Yup... I am a totally different person now... a better one.... :)
Resourceful
Not in the "Naked and Afraid" kind of way (Btw, if you haven't seen that show, you should. It will make you appreciate that we made it as a species AT ALL. That, and the girls usually kick the guys butts.) but in the "Oh no. I for got the wipes and her diaper is hanging so low we will have to avoid speed bumps on the way to the car. Time to MacGyver some Wet Ones out of 2 panty liners and a week old bottle of water." kind of way.
Unsympathetic
Not to boo-boos and nightmares, mind you, but to childless folks who tell me they are tired or talk about how their most recent vacay didn't turn out as planned.
Proud
I made this. That's right, folks! This nose diving, super-blurr of knock-knock jokes and unrestrained public farts grew inside me. I MADE PEOPLE (with Hubbs, of course)... what have YOU done for the human race lately?
Hearing Impaired
I don't know about you guys, but I seem to have lost the ability to hear screaming and rattling around upstairs or outside until it is band-aid worthy. It's really weird.
Appreciative
... of people who will watch my children for a night out with the Hubbs.
... of frozen meatballs and Prego with canned green beans.
... of Diaper Genies and spray on sunscreen and all those other little conveniences that make life easier than it was 10 years ago.
... of lots of things I never would have even noticed B.K. (Before Kids... as opposed to A.K. - After Kids)
Aware
Where does the time go? It is speeding by, faster than time should, and now they are no longer babies. They are little people who can dress themselves (sort of) and tell me what they want for dinner (mostly fruit snacks) and wipe their own butts (weeeeellll... kinda). Wait! Stop! It's all happening too quickly!
Yup... I am a totally different person now... a better one.... :)
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
The little lies we tell ourselves...
I did it this morning. I really did. I told myself a little white lie. Shame on me, right? So naughty... except... except.... it helped. I felt better. What is this? Lies only make things worse, right?
They are part of our Basic Parental Survival Skills arsenal (B.P.S.S.)! A necessary evil, if you will. If we lived every moment second guessing ourselves we would all go insane and give up. And not the "good" kind of insanity, either... you know the kind I mean. The kind that makes you say crazy sh*t like "I want another baby." or "I have always wanted to go hang gliding/bungee jumping/swimming with sharks." Yeah...
But I digress...
Listed below are some of the Little White Lies we, as parents, can be found guilty of clinging to like little wordy life preservers in the sea of batsh*t crazy we swim through every day. Beware of jellyfish and sticky fingers!
1. "It's the store brand of the healthy cereal."....
... but it's not, really. It looks like Kix but tastes like Reese's Peanut Butter cups so it's probably not healthy at all. This is what I get for not fighting harder at the grocery store.... I was totally owned by a 4 year old.
2. "They'll stop picking their nose eventually."
Oh, no he won't. And if you are all, like, "Eww! My sweet snookums wouldn't do that!" you are fooling yourself and here is the study to prove it...
- Andrade, Chittaranjan; B.S. Srihari (2001). "A preliminary survey of rhinotillexomania in an adolescent sample". The Journal of Clinical Psychiatry -
Also, don't lie. We all know what we do at stoplights....
3. "That brown stuff must be dirt"...
... yeah.... it MIGHT be.....
4. "Tomorrow will be easier."...
... or just a new hot mess. Either way, you will have hopefully gotten some sleep and a few minutes of down-time with a stiff drink. Unless you are preggers, in which case, you are screwed. (Hah! See what I did, there?) Did you know I dream about margaritas?
5. "Well, every child does that at some point."...
... but they don't, actually. Otherwise it wouldn't be called a problem behavior. But take heart! We all started out as little heathens who bit, hit, tantrumed unmercifully, or gawd knows what else. It's part of how we figure out who we are. Aaaaand then it becomes our problem again by proxy when we reproduce. We do it to ourselves, really. Just do your part and nip it in the bud... or at least try to.
6. "It's just a phase."...
... or an unspeakably terrible and permanent part of their personality. Yeah, or THAT.
7. "I can nap when they nap."
Isn't what we tell new Moms and Dads to do because we all WISH we had done it but then never really did? As I have said before, the idea of being a well rested parent is the sparkly, fat, f*cking unicorn of raising children... it doesn't exist.
8. "I will get organized!"
Sure you will... when everybody is off at college in 18-20. (Yeah... that does sound like a prison term, doesn't it?)
You see, they are all quite harmless and psyche-preserving. So keep on with yer bad self! I know I will...
Got any I missed?
WRONG!
They are part of our Basic Parental Survival Skills arsenal (B.P.S.S.)! A necessary evil, if you will. If we lived every moment second guessing ourselves we would all go insane and give up. And not the "good" kind of insanity, either... you know the kind I mean. The kind that makes you say crazy sh*t like "I want another baby." or "I have always wanted to go hang gliding/bungee jumping/swimming with sharks." Yeah...
But I digress...
Listed below are some of the Little White Lies we, as parents, can be found guilty of clinging to like little wordy life preservers in the sea of batsh*t crazy we swim through every day. Beware of jellyfish and sticky fingers!
1. "It's the store brand of the healthy cereal."....
... but it's not, really. It looks like Kix but tastes like Reese's Peanut Butter cups so it's probably not healthy at all. This is what I get for not fighting harder at the grocery store.... I was totally owned by a 4 year old.
2. "They'll stop picking their nose eventually."
Oh, no he won't. And if you are all, like, "Eww! My sweet snookums wouldn't do that!" you are fooling yourself and here is the study to prove it...
- Andrade, Chittaranjan; B.S. Srihari (2001). "A preliminary survey of rhinotillexomania in an adolescent sample". The Journal of Clinical Psychiatry -
Also, don't lie. We all know what we do at stoplights....
3. "That brown stuff must be dirt"...
... yeah.... it MIGHT be.....
Feel better? Yeah... me neither...
4. "Tomorrow will be easier."...
... or just a new hot mess. Either way, you will have hopefully gotten some sleep and a few minutes of down-time with a stiff drink. Unless you are preggers, in which case, you are screwed. (Hah! See what I did, there?) Did you know I dream about margaritas?
5. "Well, every child does that at some point."...
... but they don't, actually. Otherwise it wouldn't be called a problem behavior. But take heart! We all started out as little heathens who bit, hit, tantrumed unmercifully, or gawd knows what else. It's part of how we figure out who we are. Aaaaand then it becomes our problem again by proxy when we reproduce. We do it to ourselves, really. Just do your part and nip it in the bud... or at least try to.
Why is it ALWAYS in public?
6. "It's just a phase."...
... or an unspeakably terrible and permanent part of their personality. Yeah, or THAT.
Prince effing Charming, right here...
7. "I can nap when they nap."
Isn't what we tell new Moms and Dads to do because we all WISH we had done it but then never really did? As I have said before, the idea of being a well rested parent is the sparkly, fat, f*cking unicorn of raising children... it doesn't exist.
8. "I will get organized!"
Sure you will... when everybody is off at college in 18-20. (Yeah... that does sound like a prison term, doesn't it?)
You see, they are all quite harmless and psyche-preserving. So keep on with yer bad self! I know I will...
Got any I missed?
Monday, July 15, 2013
Nature Playdate
This weekend we did as those who have gone before us...
And we got scraped up, bruised, and covered in bug bites.
Smiles all around...
Now, don't get me wrong. I want my children to be able to negotiate a tablet full of apps and find the good programs on TV. I want them to understand the wealth of information that is at their fingertips and to use it. I want them to be able to navigate the world we are creating for them competently and confidently. But I also want them to know what river water tastes like, how to bait a hook, and how to live without www.whatever.com for a while. I want them to understand the power of a quiet day outside and why we need to make sure and save some of the nature for our future folks. SO now is the time for sun-reddened faces and muddy little knees... we can always play "Angry Birds" or watch "Octonauts" the next rainy day!
We rode some ponies...
We caught some fish...
We played in the water...
You know... really "bonded" with nature....
mmm... delicious river rocks...
Smiles all around...
Now, don't get me wrong. I want my children to be able to negotiate a tablet full of apps and find the good programs on TV. I want them to understand the wealth of information that is at their fingertips and to use it. I want them to be able to navigate the world we are creating for them competently and confidently. But I also want them to know what river water tastes like, how to bait a hook, and how to live without www.whatever.com for a while. I want them to understand the power of a quiet day outside and why we need to make sure and save some of the nature for our future folks. SO now is the time for sun-reddened faces and muddy little knees... we can always play "Angry Birds" or watch "Octonauts" the next rainy day!
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
She. Her. Sister. That child....
SHE is my messy child.
SHE is my diaper-diving, dirt-eating, mess-making wunderkind. No puddle is too deep. No poop shall go unmolested. No food shall remain unsmeared.
Brother is our clean one. He doesn't like sticky hands or face and I never once found him spelunking in his diaper or playing in the toilet. Just this morning, Hubbs caught Sprinkles elbow deep in the crapper with a water cup. The jury is out on whether or not she actually drank any H2-NO! Hubbs would like to remain blissfully ignorant while my vote is yes, she did. Luckily it was freshly flushed... this time.
Brother has always treated food as food. You know, a substance that is supposed to make it in or near the mouth. Sprinkles sees it more as an artistic medium to get stuck in her ears and inbetween her toes.
Bubba is not a fan of mud while Sissy applies it liberally to all surfaces... hers and yours.
Sass Monkey's super powers are speed, agility, and unstoppable speech. Sprinkles' are brute force, fashion sense, and unholy mess.
I wonder what a third will bring? And... will putting all three together create a time and space sucking vortex of doom?
Only time will tell....
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
He defies logic... and all rules of proper sanitation....
I don't even know how to start this one out so I'll just go on and jump right in...
It is bedtime and Sass is SUPPOSED to be stripping down for a quick hose off before stories and sleep. Like I said... SUPPOSED to be...
Instead I hear, "Mooooommy! Come look! I'm in da bathroom!". As I walk in, I see my 4 year old son crammed cross-legged into the c.1983 shell-shaped bathroom sink like a crumpled up spider, grinning furiously. And I hear the water running... Why do I hear the water running but the tap isn't on?
"Hey Mommy! I'm peeing on my feet!" *giggle*
Oh... THAT'S why. Silly me.
It is bedtime and Sass is SUPPOSED to be stripping down for a quick hose off before stories and sleep. Like I said... SUPPOSED to be...
Instead I hear, "Mooooommy! Come look! I'm in da bathroom!". As I walk in, I see my 4 year old son crammed cross-legged into the c.1983 shell-shaped bathroom sink like a crumpled up spider, grinning furiously. And I hear the water running... Why do I hear the water running but the tap isn't on?
"Hey Mommy! I'm peeing on my feet!" *giggle*
Oh... THAT'S why. Silly me.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Not-So WW: The awful truth... in pictures.
It's "funnier" *ahem* for me because I know that, much to the horror of her older brother, my sweet Sprinkles finds warm bathwater quite...um... stimulating.
Want to pass mah WISDOM along and add to my all around out-of-control head-puffery? You can Pin It here! I will be your best friend, if you are into that sort of thing. ;)
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
A stroke of culinary.... genius?
So... there was a crisis last night. A Dessert Crisis! You know the kind I mean. Both kids practically licked their dinner plates clean and then I had nothing of chocolatey-value to offer them afterward. Because chocolate is the only REAL dessert in our house... unless it's a Gummy-whatever. Bad Super Pregnant Mommy, snarfing all the goodies! Boo...
* In my defense, I didn't mean to. The baby made me do it. And I thought we had pudding... I can be wrong occasionally, you know?
So anyway, there Hubbs and I sat, watching the heathens messily devour the lasagna and green bean bounty we had set before them while we quietly sweated bullets knowing Old Mother Hubbard had hard core been in her cupboard. In our house, not having dessert is tantamount to ... oh... I dunno... pick something terrible. More quickly than we thought possible, both empty plates were presented with smiles and a hearty "Ta-dah!", seconds were denied, and it was time. I went to the dessert shelf (yes, we have a whole shelf devoted to dessert) to try and buy some time but... wait... is that Quick? Chocolate Quick? Maybe a big glass of chocolate milk would satiate the beasts long enough for Hubbs and I to make a break for it and lock ourselves safely in the bathroom? I went to the fridge for milk and.... hold up... we have plain greek yogurt! Yogurt is kinda like pudding, right? Well, that's what I'm going to tell them anyway....
3 minutes later...
... each child has their very own bowl of "special" chocolate pudding delicately garnished with Autumn colored sprinkles from last Fall's sugar cookies. I AM A GENIUS! Sass happily devoured two bowls full of the stuff and thanked me to boot. Sprinks took one bite, opened her eyes wide in shock, grabbed her mouth in utter disgust, forced herself to swallow, aaaaand promptly puked it all up. Hmmmm.... maybe it was a texture thing?
It was actually pretty good, though....
And I'm still counting this as a win, d*mnit.
* In my defense, I didn't mean to. The baby made me do it. And I thought we had pudding... I can be wrong occasionally, you know?
So anyway, there Hubbs and I sat, watching the heathens messily devour the lasagna and green bean bounty we had set before them while we quietly sweated bullets knowing Old Mother Hubbard had hard core been in her cupboard. In our house, not having dessert is tantamount to ... oh... I dunno... pick something terrible. More quickly than we thought possible, both empty plates were presented with smiles and a hearty "Ta-dah!", seconds were denied, and it was time. I went to the dessert shelf (yes, we have a whole shelf devoted to dessert) to try and buy some time but... wait... is that Quick? Chocolate Quick? Maybe a big glass of chocolate milk would satiate the beasts long enough for Hubbs and I to make a break for it and lock ourselves safely in the bathroom? I went to the fridge for milk and.... hold up... we have plain greek yogurt! Yogurt is kinda like pudding, right? Well, that's what I'm going to tell them anyway....
3 minutes later...
... each child has their very own bowl of "special" chocolate pudding delicately garnished with Autumn colored sprinkles from last Fall's sugar cookies. I AM A GENIUS! Sass happily devoured two bowls full of the stuff and thanked me to boot. Sprinks took one bite, opened her eyes wide in shock, grabbed her mouth in utter disgust, forced herself to swallow, aaaaand promptly puked it all up. Hmmmm.... maybe it was a texture thing?
It was actually pretty good, though....
And I'm still counting this as a win, d*mnit.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Are you a PWM?
I am a PWM (that's a Proud Working Mother for all of you out there). Period. End of sentence. It may come as shock for some but there is no "..but if I could afford it, I'd stay home.". That's it. A PWM. Let that sink in.... And you know what else? Even if I could afford it I wouldn't stay home with my kids. There! I said it! No guilt, no shame, just the truth.
"Day care employees don't care!" a few Moms will cry. "They will abuse your children! They will neglect your children! They will be irreparably damaged!"... Bullsh*t, I cry back. Sure... there will always be bad people in this world. Some of them will be day care employees, some will be pediatricians, and some will even be SAHMs.
"If we birth them, we should raise them." Ummm... and I'm not? I may not be at home, teaching my kids to make caterpillars out of old tube socks and some pipe cleaners. but I am still helping them learn! (Cool craft, btw.) I am just doing it differently than someone who is a SAHM.
But.... that's the REAL problem isn't it? That we all have different ideas of what is beneficial for our children? And as women, and our own BEST worst enemies, we judge, we form biased opinions, and we criticize.... Do you really think that other fathers leave nasty comments on posts, or whisper behind another Dad's back at a playdate about whether or not so-and-so uses Dr. Brown's or Wal-mart bottles or whether they get their fruit from the farmers market or Kroger? For the most part, they don't. WE do that to OUR OWN. We have no one to blame but ourselves.
We really need to quit that sh*t, ya'll.
This is why I believe I see so much passive aggressive nonsense and self-guilt about SAHM vs. Working Moms out there in the blogoshere. You can quote whatever obscure study you want to (there are sh*t tons for both sides) about what is better for who, but what it all really boils down to, ladies.... is our penchant for trying to emotionally destroy one another. Our incessant need to build ourselves up by breaking others down because we are unsure and afraid of our own choices.
WE are our biggest OBSTACLE.
I don't SAH, cloth diaper, worry about organic, or EBF but I also don't think those who do are bad Mothers. I think we are all trying to figure out a puzzle with no defined boundaries or space... our kids and their futures. We are all trying to do our best and our best definitely shouldn't include negativity. To so fervently believe that yours is the only way that you are blinded to all other ideas is dangerous, scary, and wrong. Nobody ever knows it all and has it all right. Nobody. Ever. Take some pressure off yourselves and realize we will never be perfect. And besides... perfection is boring!
SO again I say... I am a PWM. The Hubbs and I are doing what WE FEEL is right for OUR CHILDREN by providing them with lots of social interaction, a structured curriculum, and space away from Mommy and Daddy to figure out who they are. WE are also showing them that both Mommy and Daddy are thinking, contributing members of society who are passionate about learning and doing as well as Mommy and Daddy, their doting parents. One of the great things about raising children is that there are TONS of ways to teach them all the things you as a parent feel are important. Each child will be raised differently to become an individual we can all learn from and this will make the world an even more interesting place for all of us.
So, next time, instead of snickering behind your hand at another Moms way of doing things, think about what they are teaching their child and how that could enrich your life and the life of your child.
And PWMs... no more apologies. Just own it and rock it...
"Day care employees don't care!" a few Moms will cry. "They will abuse your children! They will neglect your children! They will be irreparably damaged!"... Bullsh*t, I cry back. Sure... there will always be bad people in this world. Some of them will be day care employees, some will be pediatricians, and some will even be SAHMs.
"If we birth them, we should raise them." Ummm... and I'm not? I may not be at home, teaching my kids to make caterpillars out of old tube socks and some pipe cleaners. but I am still helping them learn! (Cool craft, btw.) I am just doing it differently than someone who is a SAHM.
But.... that's the REAL problem isn't it? That we all have different ideas of what is beneficial for our children? And as women, and our own BEST worst enemies, we judge, we form biased opinions, and we criticize.... Do you really think that other fathers leave nasty comments on posts, or whisper behind another Dad's back at a playdate about whether or not so-and-so uses Dr. Brown's or Wal-mart bottles or whether they get their fruit from the farmers market or Kroger? For the most part, they don't. WE do that to OUR OWN. We have no one to blame but ourselves.
We really need to quit that sh*t, ya'll.
This is why I believe I see so much passive aggressive nonsense and self-guilt about SAHM vs. Working Moms out there in the blogoshere. You can quote whatever obscure study you want to (there are sh*t tons for both sides) about what is better for who, but what it all really boils down to, ladies.... is our penchant for trying to emotionally destroy one another. Our incessant need to build ourselves up by breaking others down because we are unsure and afraid of our own choices.
WE are our biggest OBSTACLE.
I don't SAH, cloth diaper, worry about organic, or EBF but I also don't think those who do are bad Mothers. I think we are all trying to figure out a puzzle with no defined boundaries or space... our kids and their futures. We are all trying to do our best and our best definitely shouldn't include negativity. To so fervently believe that yours is the only way that you are blinded to all other ideas is dangerous, scary, and wrong. Nobody ever knows it all and has it all right. Nobody. Ever. Take some pressure off yourselves and realize we will never be perfect. And besides... perfection is boring!
SO again I say... I am a PWM. The Hubbs and I are doing what WE FEEL is right for OUR CHILDREN by providing them with lots of social interaction, a structured curriculum, and space away from Mommy and Daddy to figure out who they are. WE are also showing them that both Mommy and Daddy are thinking, contributing members of society who are passionate about learning and doing as well as Mommy and Daddy, their doting parents. One of the great things about raising children is that there are TONS of ways to teach them all the things you as a parent feel are important. Each child will be raised differently to become an individual we can all learn from and this will make the world an even more interesting place for all of us.
So, next time, instead of snickering behind your hand at another Moms way of doing things, think about what they are teaching their child and how that could enrich your life and the life of your child.
And PWMs... no more apologies. Just own it and rock it...
Monday, June 17, 2013
4 going on 14
Sass Monkey is... well... is going through A PHASE. *cue ominous music* I can safely say I hate this phase. Passionately. I don't hate my Sass, of course, but d*mn boy... cut that sh*t out. The problem is, despite the lack of any body hair growth or voice cracking, my big, blue-eyed boy thinks he is an Axe-Body-Spray-wearing, zit-popping, honest-to-gawd teenager. This phase comes complete with eye rolling, ignoring my very existence, and "Duh, Mom.". Here is an example of a typical conversation:
Me: "Don't use the furniture as a jungle gym, Monkey Boy."
Sass: *continues to swing/jump/chew on the arm of the couch as if I haven't spoken*
Me: "Sass, quit it. Get off the couch."
Sass: *more ignoring*
Me: "I said get off the couch!" *snatching ensues*
or
Sass: "You forgot my milk, Mom."
Me: "I didn't forget it. I'm getting it right now."
Sass: "I'm thirsty. I want some milk, Mom!"
Me: "I am pouring it right now. Use your eyes, please."
Sass: "Well, Duh." *eye roll*
Me: *more snatching ensues*
He also liberally applies "Seriously?" and "I told you!" to his everydayberatement conversation.. Grrrrr.... This little Napoleon is just itchin' for his Waterloo.
I will admit to a shorter fuse due to hormones and general pregnancy exhaustion, but come ON, little man! You just had to skip ages 5-13 and go straight to teenager with a wish for certain irreparable bodily harm? But why? Even Daddy has had enough... and he has WAY more patience than I do. Dude... just.... Please?
Me: "Don't use the furniture as a jungle gym, Monkey Boy."
Sass: *continues to swing/jump/chew on the arm of the couch as if I haven't spoken*
Me: "Sass, quit it. Get off the couch."
Sass: *more ignoring*
Me: "I said get off the couch!" *snatching ensues*
or
Sass: "You forgot my milk, Mom."
Me: "I didn't forget it. I'm getting it right now."
Sass: "I'm thirsty. I want some milk, Mom!"
Me: "I am pouring it right now. Use your eyes, please."
Sass: "Well, Duh." *eye roll*
Me: *more snatching ensues*
He also liberally applies "Seriously?" and "I told you!" to his everyday
I will admit to a shorter fuse due to hormones and general pregnancy exhaustion, but come ON, little man! You just had to skip ages 5-13 and go straight to teenager with a wish for certain irreparable bodily harm? But why? Even Daddy has had enough... and he has WAY more patience than I do. Dude... just.... Please?
Sass Monkey the Dictator Barbarian
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