Robbing Peter

Alarm rings at 5:00 A.M.

Hit snooze about 5 times. Make that 6.

Oh God. I'm exhausted. Where did the night go? Didn't I just go to bed? I dreamt about work. That should count as a full day's work. I think I'll ask the boss about getting time and a half for REM Sleep work. I really should get up. I've got a long day ahead of me. I need to let the dog out, feed the dog, take a shower... did I put the laundry in the dryer last night? Damn it. Okay. There goes my charcoal gray cardigan option. I think my black sweater is clean. I'll wear that. Did I set the coffee maker to auto brew last night? YES. Thank you me from last night. You're the best.

Roll out of bed. Start the morning routine. Walk around the house in the dark to avoid waking the kids. Step on the dog's chew toy that squeaks. Might as well been an air horn. Youngest daughter, B, wakes up and starts crying very loudly like she does every morning since the second day of work. I DON'T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL MAMA!

Rush, rush, dress, dress, brush, brush, search, search, pack, pack, nag, nag... Where the hell are my keys?!

Drive to work.

Seriously, people! What happened to Atlanta radio over the last three years? There are five stations and they all play the same bubble gum Taylor Swift song at the same time. I'm only in the car for 15 minutes so I can't hear the results of the morning show DJs' riveting debate on the pros and cons of breaking up with someone via text message.

Type, type, answer call, answer call, double check the numbers, type, type, staple, copy, type, type, call, call, ask question, delete, type, report, repeat.

Drive home from work.

Damn you, Taylor Swift!

Meet older daughter, S, at the bus stop. Get a big hug and "guess what happened today, Mama!!" Try to follow the latest First Grade drama. Attempt to steer the conversation to focus on what she learned that day. Climb back into the car to pick up B from daycare. Get the warmest welcome from B. "MAMA!!! I MISSED YOU!!!" Try to follow the latest daycare drama. Attempt to steer the conversation to focus on what she did that day. Arrive home and get mauled (lovingly) by lonely dog. Check the house for carnage the dog left behind after 8 hours of being home alone with only the sound of Animal Planet on the TV.

Snack, homework, reading, play time for the kids, play time with dog. Bill pay, answer personal emails, light housework, and start dinner for me. Wait for The Hub to walk through the door. Sneak off with The Hub to chat about our day while the kids are playing. Have to cut conversation short because one kid did something to make the other kid mad.

Eat, clean, baths, books, kisses, feed fish, good night.

Go to sleep girls!
I mean it!
If I hear one more peep come from that room, you're grounded forever.
GO TO SLEEP!

"You better go to sleep or I'll send mommy in there!!" - The Hub

Make lunches, lay out clothes for tomorrow, pack school bags, set coffee machine. Crash on couch and flip through the channels and doze off in the middle of The Big Bang Theory. Where did the day go?!

I really should be writing...

That's pretty much my day during the week now. I know employed parents out there are nodding their heads in agreement. Maybe even shaking their heads and saying, "Girlfriend, you have no idea what I have to do everyday." Some of you crazy people can add sports practice, music lessons, Girl or Boy Scouts, gym workouts, baking homemade bread, reading Tolstoy, working a second job, belly dancing, tweezing your eyebrows, and breathing. (How the hell do you manage it?) I know what it's like to be a stay at home mom. This is also my second round of being an employed mom. Both lives are challenging. Both lives have perks. Both lives are good and hard in their own way. I just didn't expect the transition from one stage of life to another to be so... well... exhausting.

I'm struggling to find my balance. I still want to do all the things I did when I was home all the time, but I also want to do well with my new job outside of the home. I'm not used to being "ON" all day. I have to be pleasant and professional even when all I want to do is lay on the floor with my daughter and watch Dora the Explorer. I can't believe I just wrote that. I can't stand Dora the Explorer. I have to be focused when I want to zone out. I want to do housework during the weekday, rather than on the weekends. Okay, let's be honest... I don't want to housework anytime. Oh, and the laundry piles up in record time now, not because I haven't done it, but because I am wearing different clothes everyday. I seriously considered wearing my PJ's to work. I miss wearing PJ's all day.

The simple fact is, we need the second income. I am so ridiculously grateful for the job and I like it 95% of the time. I think I'm pretty good at what I do. I have my "kick ass" moments at work. I still have my "kick ass" moments at home... they just rarely happen on the same day. I feel that in order to get everything done, I have to rob Peter to pay Paul. To get more time with my family, I let the house go. When the house gets messy, I get antsy and we have to play "find the kids' shoes" when the bus is coming up the street. To get my house in order, The Hub and I do housework on the weekends. I even try to do a little bit of housework each night to lessen the weekend chores. By Friday, you can't even tell I cleaned on Monday. I feel like I have to schedule every minute of my week. I'm not good with schedules. I'm motivated by mood. I do things when I feel like it. I don't have a internal clock and it takes so much self discipline to do what I have to do. It also takes self discipline to slow down and do things I want to do without guilt. Like read extra bedtime stories. Snuggle with The Hub. Play with the dog. Lay on the couch and do absolutely nothing. Write.

I know it's only been a month. I know I'll pull a Stella and get my groove back. It took a while for me to get used to being a stay at home mom. It'll take some time to get used to being employed. Tonight, I will set up the coffee maker, pack some lunches, lay out clothes, and set my alarm for 5:00 AM. I might wake up and attack the day with gusto. I might wake up and join B in a good cry and yell, " I DON'T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL MAMA! Either way, it'll be fine.

Mommy Tantrums

I've been in a bad mood lately.

No. Strike that. 

I've been in a really bad mood lately. I've been cranky for over a month now. Not all day, every day... more like, more often than not. I have a bad temper. My immediate family has seen my temper. The Hub's immediate family has seen my temper a couple of times over the last 14 years. Very few people know just how angry I can get. I can go from calm to Oh-Hells-No in 3.5 seconds. I have spent the majority of my adult life trying to keep my anger in check and avoid outbursts. If I have an outburst, it's been long overdue and I couldn't keep it in any longer. I try very hard to be kind and calm. I try very hard to stay away from drama or get into heated debates (and this is an election year... you guys are making it difficult to stay out of heated debates. Really folks, just stop talking about it until November.) I have to work at not reacting every time I get angry. I take deep breaths. I'll lock myself in the bathroom and yell at the wall. (Don't worry, the wall can take it.) The Hub will sit with me for hours and listen to me rant. He's a very good listener. He can talk me down off the ledge better than anyone else. My temper is my proverbial cross. I hope you've never seen this side of me and I hope you never will.**

"...don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Recently, I've noticed that it doesn't take much to make me mad. It's in the air. It seems like everyone has something bothering them. I bet you are ticked about something. If you're not, then think about the people in your life. Chances are, they're pissed off about something. I bet you they're not mad about petty things, either. I bet you it's big stuff like financial problems, health problems, job problems, and/or relationship problems, just to name a few. Big things that take up so much of our patience. Big things that don't go away with deep breaths and counting our blessings. With all this angry energy floating around, it's hard to maintain a calm and cool attitude all the time. The big stuff in my life right now is depleting my patience reserve. I find that I'm getting upset over little things. Stupid things. Trivial things like...

The House

I cleaned the hell out of my house this past month. I was tired of Malcolm Reynolds (the Hub's dog) eating stuff off the floor. I was tired of searching for important documents or someone's left shoe all the time. The playroom was so messy that I couldn't see the carpet. I reached my breaking point and cleaned/organized everything. I challenge anyone to find anything out of place here. Even the junk drawer in the kitchen is organized. The Hub and I have lived in our current place for over five years and this is the neatest it has ever been. There is not a stack of mail or a basket of laundry sitting around. Every closet looks like Martha Stewart beat it into submission. The girls' toys are all neatly stored in bins and on shelves. I worked my disorganized butt off and now my house is a well-oiled machine. Beds are made each morning. Toys are put away each night. Laundry is put away as soon as I fold it. I have successfully removed all clutter and material chaos from my living space. It is so freaking zen in here. The Hub hasn't asked me where anything is in three weeks. It's amazing. All I do now is spot clean and straighten up. I should be so relaxed and calm. I am. Just don't leave a cup in the sink if the dishwasher is empty. Seriously. Just don't. 

Put the cup in the cockadoodie dishwasher. 

Dinner Time:

Meal time is not always fun and enjoyable (as explained here). I spend a great deal of time planning the weekly menu, clipping coupons, surviving the grocery store trip (as described here), finding new recipes that everyone will like, and finally, preparing the meals. After all that, I plate the food and call my darling children to the table. My little cherubs, who have (not so gently) reminded me repeatedly for the last hour that they are starving and how cruel it was of me to forbid a snack before dinner, take one look at the nutritious yet delicious meal set before them and say, "I'm not hungry anymore."

But you said you were hungry!!!

Yoga Time:

I thought it was a good idea to find ways to relax and de-stress. I take the dogs for long walks. I'll jump around with the kids when we feel a bit edgy or cranky with each other. I'll focus on my breathing and zone out for a bit when things get crazy. I really enjoy yoga. I'm no yogi by any means. I have to watch a video to know what I'm doing, but it's one of the few workouts that I actually enjoy from start to finish. A few Saturdays ago, I woke up before the sun came up and pulled out my yoga mat. Even with the dogs sniffing my face and trying to lay down on my mat, I felt focused and energized and relaxed. When my video was over, I made a cup of coffee and let the dogs out in the backyard. I stood on the porch and enjoyed my good energy. I took time to notice the sunlight shining through the leaves of the tulip poplar tree. I heard the birds chirp as they looked for their breakfast. I felt the cool morning breeze on my skin and I was truly happy to be alive and in that moment. My coffee had never tasted better. It was good. Life was good. 

Then the kids woke up and had an epic fight over which cartoon they were going to watch.

Good feeling gone.

I know things will get better. I also know it could be worse, but I don't like to think that way. I am grateful for the good in my life. But, damn it, I think it is okay to have a tantrum every once in a while. I'll serve my time in "time out." I'll sit there and think about how I need to be careful with others and not eat their faces off. I know that it's my responsibility to control my temper and even if I truly believe they deserve a good kick in the teeth, it is not loving to take my anger out on anyone else. I know I need a break. I know I could use a vacation. It's been 8 years since the Hub and I took a vacation. I NEED a vacation. But for now, I'll settle for a cold beer and a long nap.

** If I have unleashed on you in the last month or so, I truly apologize. It was not right of me to verbally tear your face off. But, let's be honest, you probably deserved it. 

It's Movie Night!

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was 1982. I was four years old. It was nighttime and I was wedged between my parents on the couch in our living room. We were watching Wes Craven's Swamp Thing. Cue Adrienne Barbeau's topless scene in the swamp. I turned, looked up at my dad and asked, "Why is she naked, Daddy?" Moments later, I found myself in bed, thus ending my late night movie privileges. My parents reached a new parenting milestone that night. Gone were the days when they could watch "grown-up" movies while I was still awake. My little four year old brain was starting to connect the dots and I was asking questions about the adult situations flashing on the television set. In their defense, Swamp Thing was rated PG. They didn't know there was a skinny dipping scene in swamp water when they said, "Hey! Let's watch Swamp Thing tonight! Terese can watch it... it's only PG." (They didn't have the PG-13 rating back then and Swamp Thing didn't meet the R rating requirements.) Besides, who goes skinny dipping in the swamp?! No one does. Well, no one except Adrienne Barbeau.

Packing for swamp trip: Négligée... check.
Photo Credit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Swampthing.jpg

The Hub and I are movie enthusiasts. Throughout our relationship; pre-marriage, marriage, and before our spawn arrived, we would go to the movies every week. I remember a time or two when we would see every movie playing at the local theater and have to wait several weeks for a new release. We also had Blockbuster cards and would rent multiple movies to watch in the evenings. It wasn't uncommon for us to walk out of a Blockbuster with a comedy, an action adventure, a horror, a musical, and a documentary film in our bag. We watched a lot of great movies. We watched a lot of bad movies, too. We watched animation and slasher movies. We watched everything, no matter the movie rating. 

Photo Credit : http://www.marqueecinemas.com/ratings.asp
For more info about ratings - http://www.mpaa.org/ratings/

It wasn't until the night that we sat down with his parents (before they were my in-laws and the Hub and I were into our first year of dating) and watched Eyes Wide Shut together, that we took notice of the movie ratings. That was the longest 159 minutes of awkward ever. We agreed not to watch NC-17 movies with them again. (The theatrical version of the movie was R and we didn't notice that the DVD featured the unrated scenes.)

I couldn't look The Hub's dad in the eyes for weeks after  this.
Photo Credit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Eyes_Wide_Shut.jpg

Our movie watching has declined dramatically over the last six years. Going to the theater is reserved for special date nights and we probably only go to the movies once or twice a year now. The first movie I watched in a theater after S was born was Peter Jackson's King Kong. S was only a few weeks old at the time. My mother-in-law watched her so we could get out of the house for a few hours. We were so excited. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a bust. When I wasn't crying because some of Kong's facial expressions resembled my newborn's facial expressions, I was dozing off in my seat. We decided to stick with renting movies at home until my hormones and sleep schedule got back on track.

Oh! Wook at the sweet widdle gorilla face!
Photo Credit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Kingkong_bigfinal1.jpg

The Hub and I continued to watch movies of any rating for a couple of years after S came along. Most of the time, she would fall asleep in my arms or play with her toys, completely unaware of the movie. Around the age of three, S started asking questions about what was happening on the television and we knew the freedom of any movie, any time was over. It was G/PG movies from then on until the kids were asleep. 

Isn't it funny how that goes? As a child, you are sequestered to the G/PG world. Everything is carefully monitored. Your parents talk to each other using code and spelling out words. Brilliant bad words are replaced with silly alternatives like, "Oh, fudge" and "darn it all to heck!" They cover your eyes to shield you from scenes of violence or nudity. They make you leave the room just when things get interesting. But, don't worry... Everyone lives happily ever after. Then you graduate to PG-13. Oh, the innuendoes! Oh, the explosions! Oh, the slightly colorful language! Oh, the swamp water skinny dipping glory! This is a nice place to hover for a while. You just have to be careful that you don't make a big deal about PG-13 life. The first rule of PG-13 life is that you don't talk about PG-13 life. If you abuse your PG-13 freedom, your parents will think you can't handle it and knock you back down to PG. Then, one fine day, you can proudly show your ID card to the ticket booth guy and buy a pass to the R rated world. Now you can make your own decisions. R stands for "restricted" and restricted you are no longer. It doesn't mean you have to partake in R... but no one can tell you not to now. 

Then you have kids and you're right back to G. You have to sneak your PG-13/R now. You can't be openly excited with anything above a PG around your kids or you'll have some explaining to do. As a kid, I thought my parents were just being lame when they kept me within my appropriate age ratings. Now, I realize that I was the lame one, not my parents. It was my fault that they could only watch campy horror films after I was in bed. I was the weakest link on the maturity chain and everyone else had to suffer. They, not I, should have been the ones to cry, "It's not fair! Just because she can only watch kiddie movies doesn't mean we HAVE to!" Kids don't realize that parents have to follow the rating rules, too. We don't get to pick the movie we might want to watch on family movie night. We have to fast forward through the content that may not be suitable for all viewers, even if it's the "good part." But, we do it because we love our children and we don't want to corrupt their innocent little minds too soon. We don't give them more than they can handle, so to speak. We save it for our date nights. We save it for after the kids are in bed. We are extremely grateful for how amazing the kid movies are now and don't mind watching the latest animated masterpiece from Blue Sky, Pixar, or DreamWorks Studios. We know that one day, the kids will be old enough to join us on the couch and watch any movie, regardless of the rating.

Well, maybe not any movie.

Photo Credit: http://weknowmemes.com/

Migraines, Mayhem, and Miracles

I woke up this morning with a migraine. Anyone who has ever experienced a migraine knows that it is not pleasant. My migraines occur behind my right eye and spread to the back of my neck. My vision blurs and my teeth hurt. I am light sensitive and any noise louder than a whisper sounds like a jackhammer next to my ear. A really bad one involves the feeling of nausea. Basically, I'm rendered completely useless until it passes. In a word, it sucks.

Yep... that's about right.

While writhing in immense pain, I start daydreaming about drilling a hole into my skull to relieve the pressure. It's an ancient process called trepanning. I know it's not 100% safe, but at times like these, I'm pretty much game to try anything to feel better.  The Hub is wary about drilling a hole in my skull. I'm sure there are tons of husbands who would jump at the opportunity to drill a hole in their wife's head, but he's not one of them. I guess I should consider myself lucky.

Please, don't feel sorry for me. It's my own damn fault... kind of. My migraines are very predictable and completely avoidable. I know this. I did this to myself. A combination of three things gives me migraines:

1.  I have a gluten intolerance and too much gluten in my diet triggers these demon headaches. My dumb ass devoured two pieces of pizza last night with the belief that two little pieces wouldn't hurt me. I was wrong. Oh, so very wrong.  
2. Lack of sleep. The hub went out with the guys last night and I couldn't fall asleep until I knew he safely returned home. (I inherited this disorder from my mother. I don't think she slept more than 4 hours a night when my sisters and I started driving and dating.) 
3. Monthly hormones. I'm sure everyone reading this blog is past the age of puberty and I don't need to go into detail. 

Say it with me folks, "Getting old sucks."

Last night, the trifecta of triggers occurred and I set myself up for a very painful experience this morning. Completely my fault. But, I'm still going to complain about it. It's my blog, I can do that.

Usually, I can fight off an episode with an OTC migraine pill but, I forgot to replenish my supply after the last one. I was forced to rely on some good ol' fashioned home remedies: laying down in a cool, dark room with a cold compress pressed on my forehead. Right before I retreated to my bedroom, I explained to the girls that I was in a lot of pain and needed a few moments of alone time. They know when I have a migraine when The Hub is at work, I am border-line possessed and mean business. They each gave me a hug and promised to entertain themselves while I was away.

I doubted B's word since she has a meltdown when I leave the room (as explained here). Sometimes, she surprises me and does exactly the opposite of what I expect of her. They did entertain themselves... as well as everyone within a mile radius of the house. Today, the girls formed their very own Heavy Metal Rock band. S cranked her electric guitar amp to 10 and made sounds I didn't know a guitar could make. B was beating on her toy drum a la Animal from Dr. Teeth and The Electric Mayhem.

Animal's Drum Solo

Both were perfecting their Death Metal screams and growls. This, of course, excited the dogs and they joined in with barking and howling. The neighbors gathered outside our house with their folding lawn chairs and beer coolers and some punk kids formed a mosh pit in our front yard. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.) I was in migraine hell. I tried to call out and tell them to turn it down but they couldn't hear me over their concert. The thought of getting out of bed made me feel dizzy. I did the only thing left to do. I prayed. It went something like this:

Hi God. 

It's me, Terese. How have you been? I am very grateful that my kids are entertaining themselves. I usually encourage exploring all forms of art and want them to become the biggest rock group since  the Rolling Stones. I don't want to be greedy but, for the love of you, I beg of you, please let all noise making objects in my house spontaneously combust or grant me a few hours of reversible deafness... my vote is for deafness because the kids are content right now and I don't really want to deal with sad children with broken instruments. I think my head is about to explode. Please grant me the strength and foresight to move my head off the pillow and away from the freshly laundered bed sheets. I am out of detergent and I'm pretty sure blood and brains will stain the fabric if not treated immediately. Also, you know I hate doing the laundry, so that would be a big blessing in my book. Now that I think about it, please do not let my head explode. I'm not sure I can count on the Hub to know how to remove blood and brain matter stains before the cops show up and think he drilled a hole in my skull. I promise to cut back on saying bad words and never eat pizza for as long as I live. Have a nice day. 

Your pal,  

Terese

Suddenly, the noise stopped. My ears were still ringing and I could hear the girls' sweet voices from behind my door so I knew I wasn't deaf. They were still happy so I assumed the instruments were intact. It was a miracle. I relaxed and waited for the pain to subside. An hour later, the migraine was gone and I could get up and leave my cave.

The living room was thrashed. Toys and game pieces were everywhere. The girls were in their princess dress-up clothes and their little faces were covered in my make-up. They were quietly having a tea party. They looked up and cheered, "MOMMY! You're all better! Do you want some tea?" Any other day, I would have been irritated by the catastrophic state of the room, but I was so relieved that my pain was gone that I graciously accepted their invitation to slurp some pretend tea. I'm learning to pick my battles. The girls did give me an hour and that is all I asked of them. I'm grateful for that. We'll clean up later.

My Personal Paparazzi

It's 11:30 p.m. on a Thursday night and I'm just getting started on my weekly blog.* It's not that I don't want to write more often, but once a week is about all I can manage right now. The kids are finally in bed and I just dried the last dish from dinner. It's not like my day is completely filled with activities or errands. To be honest, I didn't accomplish very much at all today. I started a few chores and paid a few bills. I remembered to brush my teeth this morning. My day was filled with assisting little people: making meals, cleaning up after the meals, combing the house for a lost toy, helping S sound out words while she read, changing diapers, kissing boo-boos, chasing after Bailey when she snagged a doll head from the playroom, and a few other tasks I can't recall at the moment. Some days, I am a rock star homemaker. Most days, I can't figure out where the time went and why I can never get all the laundry done. Then it occurred to me. I can't walk through the house without being stopped to do something else. It is nearly impossible to start and finish a task with two little kids and two big dogs constantly following me around the house. I can't remember the last time I was able to walk from one end of the house to the other without my canine shadows, a kid hanging on my leg, or hearing my name called as I pass the living room. I am so popular at my house. Everyone seeks me out and wants to be near me. I hear Mommy!! so much that I've considered changing my name to Penelope Jane Von Unterhosen just to change things up a bit.

I love how celebrities complain about the lack of privacy in their off-camera lives. They lament about being ambushed by paparazzi when they just want to enjoy their private island beach vacay or buy another designer handbag. Celebrities are people too, right? They just want to go about their daily business in peace. You're preaching to the choir, baby. I wouldn't have any unopened mail stacked up on my kitchen table or two inches of natural hair color showing if I had a little privacy. What I wouldn't give for a few extra private moments in the shower to shave BOTH legs. I get one leg done and I hear a little voice scream from the other side of the door. I rush out of the shower, conditioner still in my hair, in a panic, convinced that someone broke a bone or is bleeding from their head, only to discover the scream was in protest over whose turn it was to play "teacher" for the stuffed animal classroom. It happens all the time.

I remember my mom getting so upset when we called for her while she was in the bathroom. She used to say, "I swear someone put a sensor on the toilet seat because you always call for me the moment I sit down!" I thought she was exaggerating. Now, I think she was on to something. As soon as I close the bathroom door, someone calls for me. It's like the very moment I enter the bathroom, the kids realize they are dying of thirst or absolutely must get the board game down from the shelf or the world will cease to exist. B will stand outside the door, gnashing her teeth and wailing that her mother abandoned her. She'll try to reach for me by sticking her fingers under the door. It's very dramatic. When I open the door, B immediately stops crying and says, "Hi mommy! You found me!" Then, she merrily runs off to play.

That's not the only time I am desperately needed. My kids seek me out anytime I answer the phone, sit in front of the computer, open a book (other than a kid's book), or watch the season finale of my favorite show, just to name a few. Basically, anytime I am doing something that I want to do. I've tried to reason with them. I'll say, "Mommy is going to [insert activity here] now. Is there anything you need before I start?" The answer is usually no. They lie. I've also tried to sneak off when they are distracted and not call attention to my absence. They know. They always know. I'll wait for nap time, but if I'm in the shower, I swear I can hear the kids yelling for me and I wind up checking on them anyway. People tell me to just ignore them. They have to learn patience. I'm afraid the one time I ignore their calls, the headlines will read:

Kids Burn Down House While Mother In Shower.

To add to my frustration, the reverse happens. When I'm the one calling for the kids, they are never around. It's like they suddenly go deaf. Even when I'm in the same room, I have to shout their names or clap my hands to get them out of their trance. I have to repeat myself constantly. S will get so involved in whatever she is doing that a satellite could crash through the roof and she wouldn't even notice. It's unreal. She can hear the crinkle of a candy wrapper from a mile away when I'm trying to sneak a piece from her leftover Halloween candy stash, but not the sound of my voice mere inches from her ear. When we are at home, B hangs all over me. When we are in public, I practically have to handcuff her to me to get her to stay close. I just don't get it.

I know what you all will say. Enjoy the attention now, because one day, they'll grow up and leave you or prefer their friends' company over yours ... or some other depressing, guilt-laden truth. I have noticed that S will spend more time alone in her room than with me. She is starting to figure out how to entertain herself and take care of her own needs, like picking out her clothes or getting her own breakfast. There are times when I seek her out just to chat or get a hug. Don't get me wrong, I want her to be self-sufficient, but not so much right now that she doesn't need me around. On the other hand, B is still very dependent on me, so S's newfound desire for more independence is appreciated. I don't mind helping my kids out with anything. It's my job right now. I like brushing their hair and reading stories. I don't mind cutting their food and tying shoes. I love their little "thank yous" and hugs that follow. I love their excited cheers when I come back from a rare solo outing. I miss them when they are not around. Granted, it takes longer than a bathroom break to miss them, but if I'm away from them for a few hours, I really miss them. My main complaint is about their impeccable timing... and a little about needing some "me time."

In a completely random conversation, S asked me if people get bathroom breaks in heaven. (I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.) I told her I didn't know, but I guess we'll find out when we get there. Luckily, she was satisfied with my answer. I hope you get bathroom breaks in heaven. I hope you get your own personal toilet without sensors in the seat to alert the angels that you just sat down. That sounds like heaven to me.




*I started the blog last night but couldn't keep my eyes open past the first paragraph. I started writing again this morning at 8 A.M. It took 3 hours to finish due to 26 interruptions. Yes, I counted. I really hope you enjoyed reading it!

Mom! I'm Bored!

It's summer! Huzzah! No early mornings, no homework, and no anxiety from bus route changes (as described here). And I don't even go to school! I've always loved summer. Once I entered the working world after college, I realized summer is better when you are in school. You don't get long breaks anymore. So when I quit my job to stay home with the kids, I discovered the joy of summer once again. It brings me back to the long, lazy summers of my youth. I remember spending afternoons making googly eyes at the neighborhood pool life guard and journaling about how life was going to be awesome once I got my driver's license. I would sleep all morning. I would watch MTV all day long... it was the early 90's... MTV was still cool back then. The most I had to worry about was reading all the books on the school summer reading list. For this book nerd, that wasn't an issue. I didn't have to do anything. That was the beauty of it all. I didn't have to do ANYTHING! I really enjoy a free schedule. I like the freedom to do whatever I want to do even if I choose to do nothing at all. I am happiest when I don't have to do anything. That's usually when I do the most. My kids, however, are nothing like me. They want, no, demand a schedule. They wake up at 7:00 AM, asking for breakfast. They jump on my bed, wanting to know what I've planned to do each minute of the day. Ugh! It's cruel! They don't want to sleep in. They don't want to lay on the couch watching Beavis and Butt-head reruns. That's boring. Everything I like to do is boring. I freaking hate that word. Boring. It's a bad word. It's a whiny word. It goes like this: 

"Mmmmmmooooooooommmmmm!!!!!  I'm borrrrrrrred."

Do you know what causes boredom? It's not from a lack of things to do. It's from a lack of imagination and creativity. Boredom is the ultimate form of laziness. People who say they are bored are really looking for someone else to entertain them. They want you do the leg work and come up with something to do. They don't want to utilize their creative brain.

Another issue I've discovered while hanging out with kids during the summer is that they want to spend money when they are bored. They want to go to this amusement park or that summer camp. Since we are down to one income, we have to keep a tight budget. We have to utilize what we have already. We are members of our neighborhood pool this year which is a major source of entertainment, but only if it is not raining. I love going to the pool but even I need a break from chlorinated water every once in a while. So what do you do with two young kids on a tight budget the rest of the time? I have complied a list of activities that keep my kids entertained that require little to no money. It does not require a ton of adult supervision or assistance. These activities keep my kids busy for hours. Nothing involves glitter. As the great Demetri Martin says, "Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies."

Rainy day fun without using your rainy day funds:

A Bed Sheet:

Help your kids build a fort out of a large bed sheet. I tuck an old bed sheet into the couch cushions. Everything is better in a fort. My kids like to play house, read, color, watch movies, eat lunch and even take naps. Leave the fort up after the kids go to bed and then the adults can enjoy the change of scenery. (Yes, everything is better in a fort. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.)

They begged to take a nap in the fort. That's right... begged.

Be crafty with your crap:

Dad's old sock:

Turn an old sock into a puppet. Give the kids old buttons, glue, markers, and scrap paper and let them make sock puppets. Your kids can spend the day putting on silly puppet shows.

A triceratops.... more like a biceratops really... you get the point.  

The incredible, versatile, amazing cardboard box:

I'm not kidding. Kids love a plain old cardboard box. A kid can turn a cardboard box into a boat, a car, a cave, and a house. Put several cardboard houses together to create your very own hobo shanty town! A few weeks ago, my girls made a cardboard couch. They spent hours on this couch. HOURS!

Cardboard box couch in front of real couch complete with Styrofoam remote control.

Paper plates:

Why only wear masks on Halloween? All you need is a paper plate, some crayons or markers, scissors and a piece of string.

The hub after a long day at the office

Popsicle sticks:

Don't throw away your popsicle sticks this summer. Wash the sticks and give the kids some Elmer's glue. They can make popsicle log cabins, picture frames, little rafts to float in the tub, and my personal favorite, popsicle stick drink coasters for my wine glass.



Fun with food:

Decorate your own cookies. Bake a dozen cookies. Mix plain white frosting with food coloring in little sandwich baggies. Cut a small hole in one end of the baggie and let the kids pipe the icing on each cookie. (Warning: Not for the faint of heart. I suggest you funnel a few Red Bulls to match their sugar high energy rush after this project. Better yet, drop them off at the grandparents' house for the afternoon. Consider it payback for "spoiling" your kids with candy throughout the year.)

Diabetes on a plate, anyone? 

Why clean when you can be creative:

If you love housework as much as I do, try these fun creative ways to get out of your chores.

Give your kids a box of sidewalk chalk and let them cover your driveway with beautiful art. (What oil stains?)

Don't worry about getting that ketchup stain out of their shirt. Tie-dye old stained t-shirts and forget about stain removal forever!

If you must clean, get the kids involved. Make it a competition! Challenge the kids to a race to see who can collect the most toys off the floor, sort the laundry or make the bed the fastest. Give the kids a rag and have them race around the house, wiping down the baseboards. Award them a ribbon or a prize. If you want to get fancy, you can have an Olympic games style metal ceremony. Kids go nuts over prizes and boom... your house is clean.

Have a large window that is covered in hand prints? Yeah, me too. My patio glass door is constantly covered in hand and paw prints. Want to know how to get out of washing that window for the millionth time? Finger paint. Give your little artists finger paint and tell them to paint a mural on the outside of the window. (It's easier to get the paint off later from the outside... trust me.) You don't have to wash the windows if you've got pretty art covering up the smudges.

This makes me an artsy mom... not a lazy mom.
It's all in how you spin it, folks!

Get a jump start on your holiday card portrait:


Give them your (inexpensive) camera and let them be photo journalists for the day. You, too, can get great shots like this:

Malcolm about to lick the lens

B's self portrait

Weird kitty keyboard that randomly turns on in the middle of the night.

S learning how to use the flash feature on the camera.

My good side.

My better side... Hey-oh!

Don't be a stereotype - turn off the television and go outside!

Get a bottle of bubbles. Kids freaking love bubbles. 

When bubbles attack...

Punch holes in the lid of an old glass jar. Catch fireflies at dusk.

Turn on the hose and get wet. Fill up water balloons, water guns, and buckets and have a good old fashion water fight.

Have a nature scavenger hunt. Give the kids a list of items to look for in your own backyard or local park. Hunt for a pretty flower, an unusual looking bug, or a feather. They can find a cool looking rock and turn it into a pet rock.

S gave me this pet rock 3 years ago. It hasn't peed on the floor yet...
 Which is more than I can say about the other pets in this house.

You can also go to the local library and check out books for free. Libraries are great. They have children's story times. You can read a few chapters in peace while the kids are engrossed in a Shel Silverstein poetry reading. Some libraries even host free craft or activity programs for kids. Get your kids a library card... it makes them feel all grown up.

That's all I've got. Hopefully, my suggestions will come in handy if your kids ask you for some summertime entertainment. If all else fails, you can always use my mom's old standby:

If you're bored, you can go clean your room!

Kids: Cage vs. Free Range

I love my kids. They are super wonderful little human beings. The hub and I made them. I think we did a pretty good job. I enjoy hanging out with my kids and teaching them stuff. I think my kids are very good looking. I think they are smart and witty. My kids make me laugh a lot. My kids are smart asses and I like that quality. My kids are compassionate and loving. I'm going to be honest with you. I love my kids more than your kids. Please, don't be offended. I'm pretty sure you love your kids more than my kids. I'm sure you believe your kids are the coolest, smartest, most awesome human beings on the planet. I bet there are a few people who would agree with you. But even then, I bet they are glad your kids go home to your house instead of their house at the end of the day.

I think one of the hardest things for a parent to comprehend is the fact that some people don't really want to be around your kids. To you, your child is the best thing ever and you love being around them. That is good. You are supposed to think that... I think it has something to do with biology or keeping you from eating your own young or something. For the most part, others can agree with you. Your child is cute and it's pretty cool that he can do whatever he did on that video that you posted on YouTube. The problem is when parents are so enamored with their own children that they become blind to the fact that their children are not perfect. Their children can act up and be loud, rude, gross, smelly, mean, or weird. They might not see it, but the rest of the world does. I know that my eldest daughter, S, is crazy sensitive and emotional. She also has a flare for the dramatic and everything is a crisis.  My younger daughter, B, is a dare devil monkey with a temper. She is also a bull in a china shop and gets into everything. Both have little patience and nag a lot. They are unpredictable and sometimes blow up despite my best attempts to defuse them. See: How to Defuse a Bomb. I know this very well. It still hurts to hear it come from other people. No one wants to hear that their kid is not perfect or that their presence is undesirable.

I'm not sure if this is new or I'm just aware of it now that I'm a parent of young kids but I'm hearing that more and more businesses are not putting up with screaming babies anymore. Airlines are kicking cranky kids off of flights. Restaurants have kid-free hours or nights or are seating families with children as far away as possible from kid-free patrons. People sans kids are getting tired of our kids being everywhere and want public places to offer kid-free zones, similar to the smoking and non-smoking sections of yore. Believe it or not, I am okay with kid-free zones in certain public places. Yes, I think there should be rules about dining out with children under the age of 4. When I am out on a date with the hub, the last thing I want to hear is your Little Billy screaming his head off at the next table over. We go on dates to get away from our kids. We didn't want to be around yours. I've only been a parent for six and a half years. I still remember what it was like NOT to be a mom.

Now before anyone starts with, parents are people too, I don't have the luxury to get a babysitter every time I go out, or babies cry and sometimes there is nothing we can do about it, or stop being an ageist,  please understand, I am in your shoes. Hear me out because I think I have a pretty good argument here:

If public places like restaurants* offered kid-friendly sections or kid-free times, then:

• Parents could relax knowing they were not being judged by the sans-kid patrons if they are in a section for kids or they are there when kids are welcome. So what if your kid is singing the Barney theme song on repeat at full volume if you are among other families? These are your people. They understand you and your situation. They have more patience and therefore, can tolerate a little more noise than your average sans-kid person. You don't have to spend your dinner-out pleading with your child to sit down or be quiet. You don't have to be embarrassed when your kid proudly announces they have to poop mid meal. But most importantly, you can have more choices in restaurants. You won't be shunned to family friendly restaurants only, where the staff wears pieces of flair and every dish comes with french fries. 
• It turns the tables on the sans-kids people who are very vocal about banning kids from public places. They can't complain about your kids if they don't have to be around them. If you don't like being around my kids, then sit in the kid-free zone. Or don't come on nights where we are allowed to be here. It gives us parents some leverage in the Should You Take your Kids Out debate.
• If you are going out on a date without your kids, you can go to kid free-places or sit in the kid-free zone and enjoy being totally kid-free. It would be like the time you finally moved from the kids' table to the main table for Thanksgiving dinner. Remember how cool that felt? That feeling could be yours again.

I don't remember going out much when I was a child. I think my parents knew my two sisters and I were a bit too unstable for the structured adult world. My sisters and I would get into heated debates about seating arrangements or if one sibling was breathing on or looking at or touching the other. One of us would throw a tantrum or have "an accident." I grew up with the understanding that there are kid places and there are grown-up places. If you embarrassed your parents by misbehaving whilst in a grown-up place, it was pretty much guaranteed that you would never see the inside of a grown-up place again. That stuck with me. That's why the hub and I don't take the girls out very much. I don't want to be THAT mom with THAT screaming kid sitting next to you. I don't want to have to worry about what it looks like to other people when B is crawling under the table or crying because I won't allow her to run around the restaurant or look at the fish tank by the hostess station while we are eating dinner. I can try to restrain her or distract her, but once B figures out that she can't get her way, she throws a tantrum. (We're still working with her on that... ah, the lovely terrible two's.) So knowing there is a good possibility that she will act up in a public place, I often chose not to put her in that situation. But, I am also not a hermit and I need to get out sometimes and I don't always have a babysitter. My girls love sushi and other exotic cuisine but most of those places are too nice for my kids right now. If a nice restaurant offered kid-friendly seating, we'd probably go out more. Until then, it's either take out, date night, or wait for the girls to mature some more.

Kids are really getting a bad rap and maybe because we don't see them for what they are... newbies to society. We are taking them to nice sit down restaurants and movie theaters** so we can enjoy all the things we used to do before we had kids. Maybe, they are not ready to be everywhere just yet. Maybe we have not taught them enough etiquette to handle the adult sector of the world.  Or maybe we have and they are just not old enough to remember to use that etiquette when they are in an exciting new place. They are still learning the rules of the road. There are a lot of rules, too. (I assume everyone is trying to teach those rules to their children. One can hope.) But, honestly, how are children going to understand the rules of the road if they are not allowed on the road? At least give them training wheels to the adult world. Not every restaurant is a Chuck E. Cheese and introducing your child to the adult world is part of raising a well rounded person but it shouldn't be at the expense of other people's enjoyment. So having kid friendly areas and times at nice places could be part of the transition from your dining room table to the restaurant table. Once your child is accustomed to fine dining rules, they can move over to the general public area. If more people witnessed well mannered children in public, I believe the general public would be more accepting of little people and might actually like your kids as much as you do. Hey, it could happen.

* When I say "restaurants," I mean fancy sit-down places that are not advertised as family friendly. If they do not immediately offer crayons and a kid's menu when you are seated, it is a fancy restaurant. If you decide to take your date to a family friendly restaurant like IHOP or TGI Fridays, you've pretty much forfeited the right to bitch about being around other people's kids. 

**An R-rated movie is no place for a baby. Period. If you can't find a babysitter, you'll just have to wait for the DVD. If you do bring a baby into an R-rated movie, just know that everyone already hates you and your child. They will think you are a lousy parent. You probably shouldn't bring a baby to a bar, either. It's just tacky.

Honey, call the sitter. We're going out tonight!

Before kids, the hub and I used to go out all the time. We'd go to the movies at least once a week. We'd have dinner out several times a week. We'd RSVP 'yes' to every party without a second thought. We'd spend weekends at music festivals or take an impromptu drive down to the Florida coast. It was not unusual for us to jump in the car and see where the road took us. Very little planning went into our escapes. Grab your coat and go. And go we did.

Once our beautiful children came into the picture, our social life became a home life. We had to pick and choose our outings. Armed with a colicky baby, we steered clear of movie theaters and restaurants. We had to pack multiple bags for every out of house experience. Not only did we grab our coats, we grabbed the diapers, diaper rash cream, baby wipes, bottles, change of clothes, toys, blankets, stroller, colic water, teething biscuits, and teething rings just to visit my folks. The adventure started before we even walked out the door.

Now that the kids are older and require less outing prep, we try to venture out more as a family. The hub and I even go on the rare date night or grown-up party. My in-laws live down the street from us, so we are pretty set on the babysitting conundrum. We try hard not to take advantage of our pro bono sitters so our outings are still pretty few and far between.

I've noticed something now that we are slowly entering back into the social world. At least once during the night, a non-parent friend will ask me, "Who is watching your kids tonight?" At first, I'd tell them the grandparents were babysitting for the evening and not think much about it. After several inquiries during the next few parties, I started wondering why they would question the whereabouts of my brood. I don't recall ever asking my friends with kids where their kids were when I was childless. I assumed that if the kids were not by their side, they were somewhere else under the watchful eye of a caregiver of some sort. Besides, before kids, I was more concerned about the beer in my hand or if the DJ was going to ever play my jam than the location of other people's kids. But, I digress.

I can take the "who's watching your kids" question, one of three ways:

1. My non-parent friend wants to have a conversation with me and thinks the best way to start is with a question concerning my kids. Your kids are not at your side, so whose side are they at now? Fair enough. I understand that we live different lives now and common ground is hard to find. I know we don't come to these parties very often and we haven't talked in months. Thank you so much for trying to connect with me again. Now, let's go get a drink.

2. My non-parent friend does not believe I am a responsible parent and that I left them home alone. They have DFACS programed in their phone and they have an itchy dialing finger. Highly unlikely but still an option.

3. This is a fantastic opportunity to mess with my non-parent friend's head. Of course, this is the option I take. I am evil like that. That's the chance you take when you're my friend. Besides, they signed the contract. They have been warned.

"Hey Terese! Who is watching your kids tonight?"

Below is a list of possible answers:

- "The kids are at home. I put them in the closet with a litter box and a bowl of food. They'll be good for another 6 hours."

- "Oh, they're just driving around the block until we call them to pick us up."

- "They're on their way... Beer run."

-"Um... we don't have kids."

- Figure out who is arriving late to the party. Tell the non-parent friend that the (late arriving) person is watching the kids. Act horrified when he/she shows up later without the kids.  (This one takes a bit of pre-planning but it's worth the extra work. I find that it's best not to clue in the late arriving party goer either. It really adds to the element of confusion.)

- "Yeah, about that... the kids refused to eat their veggies again so we sold them to the gypsies. Hey! Whatcha think of my new shoes?!"

- "A bum."

-  Gasp, turn and look terrified at the hub. "Oh my God! I knew we forgot something!"


Friends with kids rarely ask who is watching our kids. If they do, they are usually looking for a babysitter recommendation. What is the most common question they ask us?

 "When's your curfew?"