What I Need

As I went to tuck my girls into bed, my 5-year-old proudly showed me a photo of herself attached to the front of her play hutch.
"Look Mom, it's me!"
"Yes, it is, but you don't have any tape.  How is it stuck there?" I asked as I pulled it off and found my fingers were all wet.
"I, just spitted on it."
Oh lovely.  "Ryah, spit is not an adhesive, please don't do that again."

Before having kids, I knew that all I wanted to have was boys.  A family of boys sounded perfect to me.  So when I found out I was having a girl the first time, I was actually pretty upset.  The second time around, I knew that given my husband's family history, a boy was likely not in the cards, but I still hoped.  Alas, no, another girl.

Don't get me wrong, I love my girls, but we all have an idea of what we hope our future family will be and when the picture changes, we can have all kinds of emotions.  I know there are plenty of moms out there who have all boys and want exactly what I have.  I've come to realize that you don't get what you want, you get what you need and sometimes the two aren't the same.

But I digress, because in actuality, I have all the "boys" I need, especially with my second daughter.  My little tomboy is thrilled to play in the dirt, excitedly shows me the slug in her hand that she's just found, is happiest when being active and is the funniest little ham.  There's also no shortage of gross-out factor with her.

The other night, I was getting the two ready for a bath and I turned around when I heard Ryah say, "Look Mom, I can itch my bum on the rug just like the dog in the movie!"  I couldn't toss that bare bum into the tub fast enough.  And seriously, ew.  I should know by now, that whenever Ryah starts a sentence with "Look, Mom," I need to be prepared. 

Did I also mention that destruction follows this one on a daily basis?  I didn't even have to child-proof my house for my first child, but nothing is safe when Ryah is around.  And I have the crayon colored walls, hole in the screen door, bent blinds, chewed on coffee table and new broken toy, to prove it. *sigh*

Now, in hindsight, I'm grateful that I only have one "boy," because I don't think the house, or my sanity could handle two.  I also think I have exactly what I need... a princess and a Ryah, and I couldn't be happier.

If You Give a Mom a Task

Inspired by Marisa's comment to a previous post, I felt the need to write this in the form of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

If you give a mom a task, like doing the laundry,
She'll start to sort the colors into lights and darks,
Then she'll find a lost toy hiding in the bottom of the hamper.
She will then take the toy to put it in its proper place.

On the way, she'll trip over a wayward shoe.
She'll pick up the shoe and proceed to the closet,
Where all of the clothes have mysteriously leapt off their hangers.
She'll hang up each shirt one by one, smelling them to make sure they're clean.

Then she'll take the dirty ones and sort them with the other "to do" laundry.
After which, she'll head to the laundry room and find last weeks' laundry still in the washer and dryer.
She'll sigh and restart the washer load while emptying the dryer load into a basket.
The basket will make it halfway up to the rooms when the phone will ring.

"What are our weekend plans?" her dear husband will ask.
"Let me check the calendar" she'll say, at which time she'll note the bake sale tomorrow.
She'll hang up the phone and pull out the ingredients for cookies;
Noting that all of the cooking utensils are in the sink from last night's dinner.

She'll then do the dishes and start the dish washer before hearing the bus outside.
She'll quickly throw on a pair of snow boots (though it's July) and dash outside in her lounge pant ensemble.
She'll find out how her child's day was and prepare a snack for them.
They'll chat about the school day activities before settling in to do homework together.

She'll then note the basket of laundry that needs to be folded and take it upstairs.
Before it can get folded and sorted, she'll realize that it's time to get dinner ready and head back downstairs.
While dinner is cooking, she'll empty the dishwasher.

As she sets the table, her dear husband will walk in the front door.
He'll give her a kiss and ask her, "How was your day? What did you do?"
She'll ponder this for a moment before responding with, "Um, laundry?"
Yes, it is a question, due to the fact that since having a family, her memory has gone the way of the dodo.

Once the dishes are cleared, the kitchen cleaned and the kids bathed and put to bed, the lonely basket of laundry will sit on her pillow top mattress, at which time she will get it done just so she can go to bed.

So, if you give a mom a task, it may not get done in a timely manner, but damn it, it will get done.

Being Good When My Kids Are Bad

When my kids are bad I try to be good. I may be gritting my teeth the entire time I'm doing so, but I'd like to think that we are a positive reinforcement household, or at least that's what I'd have you believe. But the truth is that most of the time we're just two exhausted parents who are doing the best that they can. I do try to make an effort to try and teach my boys how to right their wrongs in a positive way though.

Now, being positive with my children isn't to say that I allow them to get away with whatever they want with no repercussions. And it's also not to say that I'm one of those moms who gushes over every single little thing that their child does on a daily basis. I try to reserve that level or praise for when it's deserved and needed.

Some things though, need to be put out there in the open, for my children to learn and for my sanity as well.

"This is not a restaurant. You don't get to order any dinner you want. If you don't eat what I've made for you then you'll be hungry later on tonight and I'm not cooking you another meal at 8PM."
"Please use the bathroom now please so that you're not whining that you have to go while we're in the checkout line with a cart overflowing with groceries."
You're all moms, I'm sure you get my drift. Those are the kindly mom suggestions that would make life a whole lot easier on everyone. Unfortunately, in my house the 7 year old and the 3 year old and I don't exactly see eye to eye on that.

On top of that there's what is simply expected of them because they are in fact people living in a house as opposed to horses living in a barn.

"Please do not blow your nose into your bed sheet. Get a tissue!"

"I know that mommy is the only girl in the house, but please, for the love of all that is holy, flush the toilet when you're done and put the seat down!"
As great as my intentions are to be positive, there is still plenty of yelling, time outs, and "keep your hands to yourselves" in our household.

But there are good times too, and as a mom it's important that we nurture that and make sure our children know just how proud we are of them.

When Brayden comes home from school with a new piece of artwork or a paper with a good grade on it, we tell him how absolutely great he's doing.

When Gage plays nicely at MOPS with the other boys and girls and shares the toys we reinforce how well he did and how happy we are that he had a good time.

Those small but positive encouragements are the ones that stick, the ones that will build their little characters. And they are the ones that will trickle down to everything that they do in life. In turn I'm hoping that it will make my boys not so cynical in a world where negatives are so easily found.

It's starting to show in our household. When Brayden draws something nice, Gage will compliment him on a job well done. When Gage sings a song, Brayden will tell him what a good job he did.

When I actually fold the laundry and put it away, rather than live out of baskets for a week, I'm congratulated...

When I make something yummy for dinner, I'm told how great it is that I didn't burn it...

Well ... at least they haven't learned the fine art of sarcasm yet, so I know that they are being honest. When my husband joins in with them though, well that's another matter entirely.

When the Bleep Hits the Fan...

Throughout the week, I often think of the post I'll contribute to The Mama Dramalogues. Something heartwarming and adorable, with a sweet photo of my darling dear daughters to accompany it. A post to make you smile, perhaps even laugh. A post to make you say "aaaaah, bless those precious children..."

If you're thinking along the lines of Chicken Soup for the Mama's Soul, you're absolutely right.

BUT THEN my kids remind me just why this blog was started in the first place, and whoooosh, out the window the sweet, happy post goes, replaced by

DOOM

and

DESTRUCTION

brought on by the

KICKING

HITTING

BITING

SCREAMING

(me, not the kids)

and

MORE SCREAMING

(the kids this time - more specifically, my three-year-old)

resulting in
MELTDOWN OF EPIC PROPORTIONS

(by pretty much everyone at this point)

My three year old, Annelie, is driving me to INSANITY. It was rough going when she was a one year old and I dreaded the terrible twos like nobody's business. Then the twos came and went (not uneventfully, of course) and were replaced by what we have now: The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad threes.

Take yesterday, for example, when the happy Hopkins family skipped to the library for story time and puzzle time and computer play time and book pick-out time. Life was good, life was great, smiles circled the sun and butterflies burst from our hearts.

And then (dun-dun-dun) it was movie pick-out time. Here's something to know about me. I'm a little bit (read: a lot) controlling. BUT when it comes to movie pick-out, I'm fairly reasonable. However, when all the movies my three year old handed me to check out just happened to be the very same movies we already have at home, I kindly asked her to put them back and pick out movies we didn't own and therefore wouldn't mix up with ours.

Naturally, this was when the bleep hit the fan. Enter the kicking and screaming and doom and destruction and all that jazz that had my face bright red as I checked out my books while my husband grabbed our kiddo under his arm and fled before the librarians could snip my card in half and barricade us from ever coming back.

I tried to keep a cheerful face as the librarian checked out my books:

• The Time-Out Prescription: A Parent's Guide to Positive and Loving Discipline by Donna G. Corwin
• Taming the Spirited Child: Strategies for Parenting Challenging Children Without Breaking Their Spirits by Michael Popkin, Ph.D
• How to Keep Your Kids from Driving You Crazy: A Proven Program for Improving Your Child's Behavior and Regaining Control of Your Family by Paula Stone Bender, Ph. D
• ScreamFree Parenting: The Revolutionary Approach to Raising Your Kids by Keeping Your Cool by Hal Edward Runkel

Yes, I did feel like an incompetent fool, in case you are wondering. And I guess I kind of am because I'm frequently at my wit's end. We monitor sugar intake, red food dye intake, make sure she is well-rested and fed before she flips out. We dole out time-outs when needed (frequently, obviously) ... yet the insanity continues daily!

But I know I'm not the only person out there with a high-energy, temperamental preschooler who happens to think she/he knows more than anyone over the height of 3 inches.

So, moms out there, who wants to vent their own frustrations? You do? Perfect. Share your stories in the comments.

And moms out there, who wants to share pearls of motherly wisdom? You do? Perfect. Dispense those pearls of wisdom in the comments.

Now that the screaming has stopped and the house is temporarily silent, I'm all ears!! And when I'm done reading your comments, I'll certainly be cracking those books open for help!

xoxo,

Santa Baby...

Christmas Gift Art Print
by Jolinne

There is a possibility I have made a serious mistake. You see, my three year old pointed at the TV the other day, which was playing a caffeinated, sugar-highed commercial for something neon and perky and most likely expensive and said, "Mommy, I want that toy."

Well, I'm not going to buy that toy, so I said, "Christmas is coming someday so why don't you remember it and then you can put it on your list for Santa."

Yeahhh, I'm now thinking that might have been a BIG mistake. Sometimes my three year old is brighter than I am and she wasn't going to fall for that... Remember it and then write it just before Christmas?? Oh no-ho-ho.

The seed for the list was planted and Annelie wanted her list started IMMEDIATELY so she could get a head start on Christmas-wishes-come-true and fill that list with every amazing thing advertised between last month and several months from now. Half a week later, her list for Santa is about three pages long.

I tried putting it up super high so that maybe she'd forget all about it. "Let's just stick it on top of the fridge," I said to my husband, thinking I was being clever.

Nope. That didn't work. Annelie just maneuvered the kitchen chairs wherever the list was, so she could pull it down, grab a crayon, and have me write down everything but the play-kitchen sink.

Sometimes she doesn't remember what her list item is called, so she just has me write "Glittery thing" or "Doll that has a Mommy and wears pink" or "That thing that stretches." But even when she doesn't remember what that toy is called, she never forgets that it was the BEST thing EVER and that she HAS to HAVE it!

At the rate we're going, this list is going to need it's own post code before December even starts.

Mamas, please tell me... what do YOU do when your kids decide that they need EVERYTHING? I am open for your awesome suggestions!

xoxo,

Mini-Mean Girls

5-year-old Gracie has been in kindergarten for about a month now and every day she comes home bursting with stories of the fun she's had playing with her friends - two names mentioned in particular. One girl is her very, very, very best friend, and the other girl is another very, very good friend.

I've been so thrilled that my big brave girl is off in the world making friends and having fun...

Until last night.

Last night was roller skate night to celebrate the first month of school, and though there were only a tiny handful of kindergartners present at the roller rink (about 6 of them, including Gracie, which was surprising as there are 7 kinder classes with 24 kids each) wouldn't you know it, her two 5-year-old BFFs were there.

When Gracie excitedly called out, "LOOK! My friends are here!" I was so excited. After a month of hearing all about these recess and lunch time besties, I couldn't wait to watch her go off and play, and then introduce myself to their moms and pass over phone numbers for play dates and sleep overs and all that fun stuff that Gracie has been looking forward to FOREVER.

What I wasn't expecting was for the two little girls to hold only each others hands, refuse to say hi to Gracie other than the tiniest of waves, and then proceed to ignore my kiddo whilst whispering and giggling to each other for the entire two hours.

(and I wasn't expecting their moms to act the same way when I introduced myself!)

Okay, I have to admit something here - Gracie didn't go to play groups, day care or preschool, and as a result, hasn't had experience with whispering, cliquey "mean girls." And let me just say, my heart broke into a million, billion pieces when I saw her face fall and her teeny little shoulders slump when she realized her friends wanted nothing to do with her.

But then she looked up at me, smiled, took my hand and said, "You're the best mama ever. Let's skate again," and off we went, just me and my kiddo. Eventually Gracie found a boy in her class who had fallen so many times he didn't want to skate anymore, and she encouraged him to put his skates back on and try again, held his hand so he wouldn't fall, and they skated for a little bit. But when Gracie's girl friends left, they didn't even bother saying goodbye to her. And though she pretended that everything was a-okay, Gracie was so obviously crushed.

It just boggles my mind that the whole cliquey mean-girl thing starts so young. And I certainly never expected my sweet-as-pie, huge-hearted child to be the one excluded. Moms out there, if you've had similar situations happen with your kids, what did you do?

xoxo,

Mama Guilt: Get Over It

I have a serious problem with guilt. Not just any guilt, but possibly the worst kind of guilt. Mama Guilt.

I'm sure you know the kind, where you feel inadequate as a mom and you compare yourself and your children's behaviour to the other families that surround you.

The other day I was talking to a mama friend of mine who commented that she only allows her children 30 minutes of television per day. 30 minutes!?! In the back of my mind all I could think of was a few weeks ago when I was laid up on the couch with cramps and it was all I could do to get a few moments of peace to sit Gage down in front of the television for awhile to watch enough television to make those other supermoms shake their heads in disgust. Or better yet all of the times when I had to trek down to the basement to do a load of laundry or out to the mailbox, tasks that are much easier without a child hanging on my leg, where I stuck my boys in front of the television in order to get things done.

Brayden, my oldest child, casually mentioned to me that one of his new friends at school only packs his lunch because he is an organic vegan.... at age 7. The last time Brayden asked if he could pack his lunch it was thrown together last minute and consisted of a pb&j, an applesauce cup, some fruit snacks, and a boxed kids drink that I'm sure had enough sugar in it to make any mom scoff in disapproval.

When Gage goes into the nursery at our church he's often lined up with other kids his age who are all wearing their Sunday best clothes complete with creased dockers and sweater vests. The last time I dropped him off there, Gage was wearing torn jean shorts that showed off his poor scrapped knees paired with an old tee shirt with juice stains on the collar.

All of these factors add up to Mama Guilt, and those who have it carry it around with them everywhere they go, always sizing up the competition and feeling inadequate in their role as a mother.

Now there is nothing wrong with taking a few tips here and there on how to better improve things in your household, but on what scale are you using to deam yourself as an unfit mom? The fact is, there is no scale and every mom and every household is different as they do what works for their family dynamic.

Sometimes I feed my kids cereal for dinner because I'm too exhausted to cook a nutritious meal that night.
Sometimes I let my kids skip their nightly bath/shower and be smelly the next day just to get them into bed that much sooner because this mama needs to rest.
Sometimes I only read every other page of the bedtime story books because after a long day wrangling two rambunctious boys I'm exhausted.

And really, a little high fructose corn syrup never hurt anyone.

Advice for Young Girls From the Disney Princesses

Okay, so I'm just going to go out there and say it: I like Disney fairy tale musicals. No. I love them. Particularly the ones that came out when/before I was in elementary school (3rd grade The Little Mermaid - 5th grade Beauty and the Beast)

I'm a humongous fairy tale junkie, and enjoy seeing Disney's take on the classic tales (I am ALL for fairy tale retellings), but being a mom with daughters, I couldn't help cracking up over the Advice for Young girls videos from The Second City Network on YouTube.

Advice for Young Girls from The Little Mermaid:



Advice for Young Girls from Belle:



Hope you laughed as much as I did!

And then, because I love to know about all things fairy tale-related - what is your favorite fairy tale, Disney, or otherwise?

(Mine is Rapunzel. Yes, I am flipping out over the Tangled trailer.)

xoxo,

In 20 Years

Originally posted on my personal blog Oh Mandie on 07/21/10, but the concept is something that I've been thinking pretty heavily about for awhile and bares repeating.


Dear Oh Mandie 20 Years From Now,

I know that the sentimental part of you will still be filling in pages of your scrapbooks and reminiscing over the stacks of photo albums you have and remembering when your babies were actual babies. I know that you're thinking of cuddling those small boys and reading bedtime stories and making s'mores over backyard fires. But please, for the sake of future new mother, remember the other times too.

Don't forget what life was like with two little boys running a muck around the house and leaving a trail in their wake. I know that the memories that tend to stick are the sweet ones, but I want you to remember the skinned knees, the fights, and the sleepless nights of not one but two babes with colic. Remember why the laundry didn't done and why the floor wasn't always swept, because every time you went to do your daily tasks one of those boys needed you.

So when a young mother tells you that she hasn't had the chance to shower for three days, believe her, because you once were her. And when you're at the grocery store and you see a mother struggling to hold on to her children, bags, keys, and sanity, offer her a smile rather than a grimace in annoyance, because she's doing the best that she can.

And those young moms that are in your family, circle of friends, church, or whatever? Don't wait for them to ask you for help, because us mom's, we're a proud bunch. Call her up and offer to come over for a few hours one day. And for heavens sake, bring her coffee.

Much Love,
Your Younger, Less Together Self

Swim, Little Duckling! Swim!

Sometimes I forget that I'm not supposed to spend 100% of my day hovering over my kids, their hands clasped tightly in mine, and a hawk-eye on their every single move.

Lucky for my kids, my hubs is much more relaxed in parenting and more than happy to let them grow up and move on with their lives.

If someone had asked me a week ago if Gracie, my 5-year-old could swim, I would have said "Absolutely, positively NOT. Get a life vest and some water wings on that girl, stat!"

But my husband... "Sure she can."

This past weekend, we were visiting my grandma and the girls were swimming in her pool. My heart practically stopped beating when I saw Gracie - life vest free and water wingless - climb up the skyscraper-like diving rock and leap straight into the water. My eyes bugged out of my head and I scrambled to the side of the pool, debating whether I should rescue her with my shoes on or off.

"Relax. She's done it before," my hubs said.

Sure enough, after sinking all the way under, itsy bitsy little Gracie popped back up and paddled to the side of the pool, the biggest grin on her face.

Huh. I guess she can swim after all. Over and over again she jumped off the diving rock and swam to the side. All by herself. She had the Best. Day. Ever.

If it had been only me with her, Gracie never would have taken those water wings off. Well, she would have tried, but I would have shaken my head and stuck them straight back on.

It's hard to cut those apron strings, especially when it's time for them to do something I'm not quite sure they're ready for, simply because I like to believe they are itty bitty babies still.

Other moms out there, what's it like for you? Are you able to take off the water wings and let the little ducklings swim free, or are you like me, and smother them in your over-protectiveness? And how do you find the balance?

xoxo,

The Differences Between Kids

I know so many people with two kids - a boy and a girl. Often, I hear how different these two kids are, with the differences chalked up to the fact that the kids are two different species (if you consider boys and girls as different species, like I pretty much do).

I can see how that would make sense. Boys are different than girls because they are boys. And girls are different than boys, because they are girls.

But I have two kids, too. Both girls. And you know what? They are WAAAAY different from each other. As it turns out, when it comes to the difference of kids, sex of child has nothing to do with it. My girls have been different from the very first day, when they were nothing but little tadpoles inside me.

Gracie - made me sick as a dog in the 1st trimester/ Annelie - made me ten times sicker.

Gracie - never stopped kicking/ Annelie - never moved in my stomach.

Gracie - while pregnant, my body hurt too much to move/ Annelie - made me feel so refreshed that up until her delivery, I was hiking and mountain climbing (some would call it small-hill walking... I call it mountain climbing)

Gracie - never slept as a newborn/ Annelie - Didn't wake up until she was about 4 months old.

Now that Gracie and Annelie are 5 and 3 years old, the differences between them have only grown. Gracie lives in dreamland and doesn't interact with kids very much on the playground, preferring to pal around with her imaginary boyfriends, Harry Potter and Justin Bieber. Annelie only plays pretend when Gracie ropes her into it, preferring to run around with other kids at the park instead. And while they both love playing dress-up, Annelie is much more interested in running into the backyard and swinging for hours or catching bugs (and sticking them in her hair - but that's a story for another day).

And as to potty-training...

Gracie - potty-trained easily and without a hitch/ Annelie - a never-ending potty-training NIGHTMARE!

When it comes to learning, my girls are also VERY different. Gracie is able to memorize quickly, but doesn't find problem solving very easy and struggles to relay back what she's learned. Annelie doesn't memorize letters/numbers or words as easily, but excels at problem solving. Also, when she sees a movie, she can tell you everything about it in clear, concise sentences (she gets that from her dad... I'm too long-winded to have passed on that gene).

When Gracie sees the word STOP, she knows what it says because she's already memorized it. Annelie sees STOP and knows what it says because she knows that the 'S' sound combined with the 'T' 'O' and 'P' sounds can be smashed together to make the sound STOP. As much as we work on that concept with Gracie, it just doesn't make any sense to her.

Yesterday, I was playing Tic-Tac-Toe with my girls. 5 year old Gracie lost every time. She just didn't get it, no matter how much I explained the rules to her, and eventually gave up to play with her imaginary boyfriend. 3 year old Annelie understood the rules immediately and after only two games, was already kicking my butt.

Not to mention: Gracie - the sweet, sensitive kid/ Annelie - the temper-tantrum throwing hellion with a love for destruction and making her sister cry.

It never fails to amaze me how two kids - both girls, both coming from the same place and from the same two people - can be SO DIFFERENT in just about all aspects of their lives. When I hear other moms talking about their kids, how different their son is from their daughter, I can only smile and nod and say, "Yeah, I know what you mean. My daughter is WAAAY different than my daughter."

It's not just the gender that makes them different. It's the kids.

xoxo,

In Want Of

Everywhere I look, women around me are having babies. Some are beautifully round, with protruding bellies and bright eyes, while some are cradling their newborns, overjoyed. It's friends, family, cousins, acquaintances, blog friends, random women in the super market. It's everywhere. It's all around me.

When I was pregnant with Gage my OBGYN had asked me to consider what I wanted to do in terms of sterilization and/or birth control. Mike, my husband, and I skirted around the issue, too wrapped up with the little miracle that was growing inside of me. When the time came to decide I simply could not do that to my body, have my tubes tied, and do I went with a removable IUD instead. My children are a blessing, and my womb is a gift, and until nature says otherwise I just could not fathom doing something so extreme, especially being so young. I still had a lot of time left to bare children, and while at the time I had no immediate plans to do so, perhaps one day would come where I would change my mind. A day like today. A day like tomorrow.

I come from a big family. I'm the oldest of four children, and both of my parents come from large families as well. As stressing as it can be, I simply love being surrounded by children and family. It's who I am. It's what's in my heart. And really, it's all I've ever really known up until starting my own family.

Mike, on the other hand, is an only child, raised by just his mother and grandmother. His family is very small, but what they lack in volume they make up for in heart. He is content with what he has. He always has been, and it's part of what makes him such a good man.

I've been longing for another child to hold and love for some time now. Mike, on the other hand, says that he is done and that our two boys are more than enough. I know, with all of my heart that I should be counting my blessings rather than asking for more, but I am a woman, and lately I've been asking myself constantly, is this not what I was made for, to bare children and nurture and love them?

I admit, this is making me depressed, knowing that my husband doesn't want more children while I do. It's driving a wedge between us in other facets too. I love him with all of my heart, and I know that he is my forever. But what do you do when what your heart desires for the future and what your partners heart desires for the future don't mesh?

When Yes means YES, Now Stop Asking!

5-year-old Gracie, bless her little heart, drives me insane. Not always, of course. But lately, conversations with her, especially ones in which she asks me a question and I give her an answer, are so exasperating, I'm not quite sure what to do with her.

A few minutes ago, we had a conversation like this:

Gracie: Mom, can I have a spoon to go with my ice cream?

(for the record, it was ice ream in a squeeze container and did not require a spoon)

Me: Yes.

Gracie: Really? I can have a spoon?

Me: I said 'yes.'

Gracie: I can get one? A spoon?

Me: Gracie, I said YES. You asked if you can have a spoon and I answered. I said YES.

Gracie: So, should I get a spoon for my ice cream?

Me: ARRRRRGH! GET A FREAKIN' SPOON BEFORE I LOSE MY MIND!

(I'm making that last one up. Although I did think those words in my head)

Every day, we have multiple conversations like this one. She asks a question, I answer, she keeps asking the question, I go completely insane, she asks again, my eyes pop out of my head, she asks again, and lather, rinse, repeat.

The sucky thing is this: she isn't doing it deliberately. I can tell. Sometimes she drives me insane on purpose, but in this case, nope.

So. Moms out there, here is your chance to dispense as much advice as you like. Do you have conversations like this? If so, how in the world to you keep your sanity whilst getting the point across to your kiddo that YOU ALREADY ANSWERED THE QUESTION and therefore it does not need to be asked a million more times?

Go on. Tell me.

Pretty, pretty please?

xoxo,

Ew. That's Disgusting

"Ew. That's disgusting." Or, as Annelie used to say, "Ew. Zass zis-zusting."

That was one of the most frequently heard phrases around our house back when Gracie and Annelie were a year younger and still getting shouted at for experimenting with what NOT to say at the dinner table.

But I can't help thinking it every time I see, smell or taste something sooooo zis-zusting.

Take Marmite for example. All I have to do is unscrew the lid and take the tiniest of whiffs and my eyes start to water and my nose burns. Marmite - Ew. That's disgusting. Even the label says its horrid. What kind of advertising is that?

Gracie agrees with me. How can anyone like the stuff? The label is correct - it's HORRID!

Annelie, however, requests the sticky brown yeast extract on buttered toast for breakfast. Every. Day.

She loves it. She thinks it is delicious. She has even been caught sneaking finger-fulls of the the revolting mess when she thinks no one is looking. It is MIND BOGGLING, I tell ya.

Who is this child I used to know so well? How can she possibly eat something so zis-zusting?

Where did I go wrong as I passed my genes to my darling offspring?

Ohhh... that's right. My husband.

She takes after my husband. Will loves the gnarly brown glop. Put it on buttered toast and he's the happiest guy in town.

One mystery solved. The other - how anyone, let alone my husband and daughter, can stomach the stuff - will probably remain a mystery for all eternity.

This Marmite advert sums up my feelings about Marmite perfectly (my feelings are depicted in the character of the baby). Its sums up Annelie's feelings perfectly, too (her feelings are depicted in the character of the mother).



Tell me, mamas... are there foods that your kids gobble up that make you wonder if there is something wrong with your DNA because it is so darned disgusting? Please don't tell me I'm the only one...

xoxo,

Kids, Kittens, and the Birds & the Bees

So. I had my first uncomfortable "birds & the bees" talk with my almost 5-year-old daughter Gracie, the other day. It was pretty basic, and I threw around terms like, "boy bits" and "girly bits" which aren't technical, but worked fine for me.

When it comes to talking about ... you know what... my face turns red and I would love very much to hide somewhere until "the talk" is over.

I remember when my mom sat me down for "the talk." I was in 5th grade and I pretty much already knew everything that needed knowing (minus the technical terms) because of the dirty jokes I used to hear from my older brother and his friends. But my mom recorded a PBS special dealing with ... S-E-X ... and she sat me down and watched it with me, my face blazing red the entire time, and then asked when it was over, "Do you have any questions?" to which I replied, "Um-absolutely-not-and-can-I-go-over-to-my-friend's-house-now-and-pretend-that-this-never-ever-happened-pretty-please-with-a-cherry-on-top?"

But the other day, to my horror, our little girl kitten Somersault hopped on top of our other girl kitten Sophie and, as my friend April so cleverly put it, meow chicka meow meow.

Yeah, that's right. My kittens were gettin' it on. That, my friends, is how Gracie and Annelie got their first eyeful of the birds and the bees because as it turns out, Somer is not a girl. She is a he.

So, after shrieking for Somer to get off of Sophie, and a frantic phone call to the vet to set an appointment for their kitty-fixing, I had to sit Gracie down and explain that Somer is really a boy, and that the kitties were in the middle of baby-making, and girly-bits-and-boy-bits-and-omg-are-we-done-having-this-talk-now-why-don't-you-go-play-My Little Ponies...

It was a lot for Gracie to take in. I thought I had done a great job.

When we got our kittens back from the vet this week, Gracie excitedly ran over to Somer and checked to see if his boy bits were gone (they were) and then she jumped up and down, clapping her hands, and exclaimed, "Yay, Somer is a girl again!!"

*sigh*

Time for another talk.

I have absolutely no idea how to handle the questions when my girls are pre-teens and boy bits and girly bits aren't terms I can use. I might just track down that PBS After School Sex Ed special I had to watch when I was eleven.

Moms out there. Have you had "the talk?" And if so, how did you cope?

xoxo,

The Good Days and The Bad Days

Being a mom is rough.

Some days my kids are so exasperating, I can't imagine why I ever thought I would be good at being a mom.

Some days I find that I yell 95% more than I hug.

Some days I mentally calculate how long until Gracie and Annelie start college, and hope they will go out of state, possibly out of the country, so I can finally have some peace and quiet.

And some days, my kids are so darned cute and funny and outstandingly brilliant that the idea of them growing even a day older makes me so sad I just want to cuddle them close and never let them go.

Yesterday was one of those days. One of the better days. One of the days where my kids were so sweet and funny and creative and cute, and I couldn't stop smiling at them and wondering how I could possibly be so lucky that these amazing people are mine, all mine.

It wasn't a day too far out of the ordinary. We went for a walk, we took the city bus to the library, and ate cupcakes at a bakery. We do this sort of thing every week, and find that it is hit or miss. When will Gracie be mean to her sister? When will Annelie have a tired-kid melt down? Will they scream and run around the library, causing annoyed and embarrassing stares from everyone around us? When will Annelie shove Gracie's cupcake in her mouth when Gracie isn't looking, resulting in the worst fit the bakery has ever seen a kid pitch?

You just never know with kids, do you?

But yesterday, none of that happened. It was all laughter and smiles, kids saying please and thank you and me thinking, "Wow, my hard work is finally beginning to pay off!"

Its funny how there can be days and days of rotten awfulness, but one perfectly wonderful day takes all of those bad feelings away and reminds us just how wonderful being a mom can be.

xoxo,

Tradition

Every single Sunday morning, no matter how busy and hectic our week has been my husband and I celebrate the start of another week and the last day of the weekend. Together we both go into the kitchen and break out the eggs, bread, potatoes, and whatever else we can rummage up and prepare a huge breakfast feast, where often times our extended family comes to enjoy with us.

During the warmer months we'll all perhaps carry everything out to the back deck and eat picnic style and in the colder ones we abandon our eat in kitchen island and eat at the dining room table, something that is often reserved for holidays and fancy elaborate meals.

Sometimes when the two of us cook we'll let the iPod play while the children occupy themselves with cartoons and toy trains (and asking 100+ times when the food will be ready). Gage, our 3 year old, is a finicky eater and right now will only eat french toast, pancakes, waffles, or whatever we're having that day, with peanut butter slathered on it in place of syrup. Brayden, our 7 year old will not touch a scrambled egg, but will gladly eat a plate full of over easy ones, dipping butter bread (not toast!) into the yokes. Together we will all eat until our bellies are full and laugh and enjoy each others company while doing it.

This small and simple tradition of ours isn’t complex or expensive, and aside from stocking up on a few essential groceries during my weekly trip to the store, it really takes no advanced planning. But it’s something that we all look forward to, and gives a chance to slow down and connect as a family.

It's been those small weekly rituals that have brought us some of our most special moments as a family, simply because we were all together enjoying our time with one another at a leisurely pace. Life is so full of this and that, that sometimes we often forget to just live because we're always thinking about what's next. Our tradition isn't so much the breakfast itself, but rather devoting the time to one another and setting the pace for the day.

Do you Mama's have any traditions?

Speed Bumps

Every week here on the Dramalogues I usually go the aww my kids are so sweet and parenting is so great path. And as wonderful as that is, life is not like that all of the time. We hit speed bumps and jump hurdles and sometimes we crash and burn. We struggle. We fail. And it's usually not so pretty.

Don't misunderstand here, writing about the joys of my children and life is incredible, but I think that's why we blog and I don't think it's strictly the tales of happiness and blessings that draw us to read the blogs that we do.

So I think that I'm going to get real now.

I struggle with raising two very rambunctious and active little boys while being sick and having no energy. I hate that I can run around with then or after them and I don't feel like I'm as close to their lives as I used to be a few months ago.

I struggle with having a husband with an odd work schedule that seems to be throwing parts of our marriage of course. Mike is long gone and well into his work day when the children and I get up around 7am each morning. He is usually fast asleep sometime around 8 or 9pm and anymore it seems like the only time we spend together is with the children, leaving no time to devote to our marriage.

I struggle with anxiety and can't do a lot of the things that so many people take for granted without having a panic attack and losing it. It's affected the way that I live my life and is trickling down to the way my family is living theirs and it's not fair.

What do you struggle with moms? What is the nitty gritty that goes on in your day to day?

I love Mozart; She Loves Balloons.

I had an argument with my three year old today. It went a little something like this:

Setting: Living Room. Puts on Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik

Annelie [listening intently]: I know that song! It's I love Balloons, I love, I love Balloons!

Me: Um. No. Its Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik

Annelie: No, its I love Balloons, I love, I love Balloons!

Me: No, I'm pretty sure its Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik

Annelie: No, it goes like this, [shaking maracas while singing and dancing around the living room] I love balloons, I love, I love balloons!

Me: No, I'm fairly positive it doesn't.

Annelie: Annie sings it. Its the birthday balloons song. That's how it goes. I love BALLOONS, I love, I love BALLOONS!


.... and on and on and on. We're both pretty argumentative people and I was determined to win the argument (in case you are wondering, our argument did not in fact end with I'm right, you're wrong, nanny nanny boo boo, although I was certainly thinking it, and I'm pretty positive she was, too).

When I bought my kids some Disney Little Einstein DVDs, I thought I was going to be helping them culturally. A show that mixes classical music and art? Oh, I am SO there!

But now, my kids can't appreciate a single, recognizable classical song unless there are stupid lyrics involving balloons and clapping for them to sing along with. I'm not going to lie... I have mixed feelings.

I LIKE the fact that my kids know where Venice is, and can recognize it in pictures or movies because that's where Rocket flew. Forget looking at Mommy's pictures of her trip to Venice... at ages 3 and 4, my kids just don't understand that - or care.

Who needs real photos of the Rialto Bridge...
my kids only recognize it because of rocket's gondola journey

And I LIKE that my kids recognize the art of Van Gogh and John Singer Sargent because they've seen it on the show, heaven knows they certainly don't like to look at it when I pull out my art history books from college.

But I mostly feel like I'm dumbing down their experience with the Arts. Is it worth playing a movie that has Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No 5 in D Major ... when the obnoxious little cartoon kids are singing, "Use your hands for turning, turning turning, clapping clapping, up down?" Because now, whenever my kids hear that song, they don't appreciate it musically, it just becomes as stupid as a Barney song.

When it comes to teaching my kids about classical music, I think I prefer the Disney of long ago. I was never bored of Fantasia - to me, the gorgeous animated faeries, and centaurs and those adorable dancing ostriches and mushrooms made classical music fun. And heck, who doesn't recognize the Peer Gynt Suite no. 1 Morning? I think that was song is played in every single cartoon I watched as a kid, whenever a character woke up in the morning... But thanks to the Little Einsteins, when my kids hear it, they sing, "I love my baton, yes I love my baton, yes I love, I love, I love my baton," and I want to gouge my ear drums with a spoon.

When Gracie was two, her absolute favorite thing to watch was Peter and the Wolf.





Its a story told in music, without any stupid lyrics and obnoxious singing kids. For me, it's movies such as this, that make classical music fun for kids, without dumbing down their experience.

Other moms out there, tell me, where do you stand on shows such as The Little Einsteins? Do you feel that it helps your kids learn and recognize classical music and art when they wouldn't otherwise, or do you feel that they are getting a dumbed-down version that may hurt more than help?

I'm curious! Of course there are no right/wrong answers... just opinions, so please share! And are there books and movies that you like better, when it comes to teaching your kids about art and music? Do share those, as well!

xoxo,

Different Parenting Philosophies

In the years I've been a mom, I've learned that everyone has different parenting philosophies. Four-year-old Gracie and I are no exception...

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Gracie: I'm really nice to my baby.

Me [making lunch]: ....

Gracie: I'm really nice to my baby.

Me [still making lunch]: ....

Gracie: I'm really nice to my baby.

Me [responding only because I know that if I don't give some indication that I've heard her, Gracie will repeat the same sentence until the end of her existence]: That's great.

Gracie: I give my baby cupcakes with chocolate frosting.

Me: If you finish your lunch, you can have a cupcake, too.

Gracie: I give my baby cupcakes and she doesn't even have to eat her lunch first.

Me: That doesn't sound very healthy.

Gracie: But cupcakes taste better than lunch and my baby loves them, so she's really lucky.

Me: Well, I'm the kind of mommy who wants her little girls to be healthy because that is more important than cupcakes.

Gracie [not happy that her mother is such a killjoy]: Well my baby is luckier than me.

Me: I don't think your baby is very lucky. If she doesn't eat a healthy lunch, she'll get sick and die.

(Yeah, sometimes I'm a little harsh...)

Gracie: .... okay, maybe my baby will eat some fruits and vegetables first.

---------

So Gracie ate her lunch and her baby ate her lunch and they both got to have cupcakes, and nobody got sick and died, the end.

Oh, and also, I think my parenting philosophies are waaaaay better than Gracie's.

xoxo,