Here we go again?

So... Was reviewing the old blog, and actually burst out laughing at some of my old posts. I had so much fun when I was writing.... Where did I find the time to do all that writing before?

"Waiting in the van selfies are all the rage."

 Ok.... so there went some.

Why am I writing again? No one follows me... (ok like 3 people and one of them might be my mother.) I don't have anything profound or prophetic to say. Well, folks, today I had a Mom Moment. Not the "I'm gonna kill someone so I am hiding in the back corner of my closet under last years forgotten Christmas underwear" kind, but the "I CAN do this Mom thing!" kind. And I like to write things down. And if you write this many words in a Facebook status, people unfriend you.

Every year in mid January, my kids turn into small energy sucking monsters. It has been too cold, for too long, and they no longer know how to function on 12 hours of sleep and 7 hours of TV interspersed with a few moments of eating. That is why this Momma reaches her wits end and decides to take away TV during the months of the year with the highest suicide rate. (Refer to this entry if you want the gory details of this choice)

This year the choice to remove TV was more about creating better behaviour choices in my children. TV made them into argumentative yellers. Not sure why, but I'm pretty sure it has to do with their brains turning into something resembling cake batter.

It started with my ambiguous statement,

"Guys, we are turning off the TV until we can get this behaviour under control. When I see that you are making better choices, we will get it back."

Hmmm. Makes sense to a 3-year-old, right?!

I have never been asked so often, "WHEN can we get TV back."

Ok. So insert amazing Mom moment here.

We are farmers. We have bins full of grain. Relevant? YES!

My plan:
1 small mason jar
container of soy beans

Tea towel draped over dirty dishes in the background. Cause I'm classy.

I placed 5 soy beans in the jar. One for every day we have to go without TV. I showed the jar to my kids and told them that every morning when they woke up, they could remove one bean. When all the beans were gone, we could watch TV again. They were ECSTATIC!

The catch?
Every time they make a poor behaviour choice, (throwing a fit, yelling at or hitting a sibling, arguing with Mom, you get the idea.) we would add a bean to the jar. They were less excited. But seemed super pumped about the process.

"So, Mom. When ALL the beans are out, we can pick a movie?"
"Yes."
"So if ALL the beans are in the jar and it's full, it will take FOREVER?"
"Pretty much, yes."
"That's NEAT!"

I love 4-year-olds!

I've been asked 3 times since this conversation if they could watch TV. Instead of saying, "NO!" or, "What did I say about TV?" I could follow their question with a better question, "Are there still beans in the jar?" "Yyeeeeesssss." "Ok."

Awesome.

We've been using the jar for one whole hour and I haven't had to put any beans in it, will it last? No way! But I am so proud of myself for coming up with a visual way they can see themselves get closer (or farther away) from their goal.

Woohoo me!

And my womb does a somersault!

So, NO! I'm not "in that way" myself, but enough people I love are, that I am having a great amount of fun with tiny little things!

I found the most amazing pattern for new-born booties. (The girl ones are my favourite and I may have to adapt the pattern for adult feet)

All this fun, tiny work is making my baby factory go crazy. Not my "Mom! Where's my 100th lost Polly Pocket?!" factory, though. So for now, I'll just live through them.

Little boy boots. (Due next month but it's COLD already!)

Matching set for a girl due in Feb. Cozy!

And the reason my womb doubled over!

PS: These are gifts that have yet to be given, so SHHHHHH! (And if you have already guessed who you are, act surprised.)

"That" girl

We all have one. THAT girl. The one we can't help but hate because deep down inside, there is something (or everything) about her that we wish we were, had, or didn't have. The one we've never met (or maybe you have, she could be your best friend) but we HATE anyway. We're sure they are a b*tch. They have to be. They are too pretty, confident, wealthy, or relaxed to be nice. We covet their body, partner, wardrobe, career, you name it. The fact that they have what we want makes them evil, right? RIGHT??!!

I'm pretty sure I have a few. Zoe Deschanel being one of them. I'm pretty sure I'm her; only fatter, poorer, and with less talent. This is confirmed by my husband who comments on the striking similarities every time we see her on TV. Thanks.

How do we beat these women? Baseball bats work well, I'm told. Ok. Probably not wise.

We've all heard the old saying, "If you can't beat them, join them."

This works in this case and isn't as hard as you think. You can become the woman we all hate. I know this doesn't sound appealing at first but think about it for a minute and I bet you have all wished to be hated.

Here is a few of the things I have discovered in the last 2 years. Anyone who knows me will see these things in me. They work, right? (Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know.)

1. Smile more. 

Cliche, I know. Just try it. Another old saying goes, "When you smile, the world smiles with you." In the case of women, that is entirely untrue. No matter what situation you find yourself in, if you flash a bright, confident smile at another woman, it will catch her off guard and then stir that ever-present feeling of "I want what she has."

2. Sing in public.

I don't mean pull out your karaoke machine and belt out Shania, cause please, don't. But the next time you find yourself overwhelmed or underprepared for your situation, a song works wonders.

Most of you are thinking, "Ok. I want looks of hatred, not pity." But picture this: You are grocery shopping and need two more items when the kids start screaming about someone touching someone, somewhere.

SING.

"The kids in the cart are melting down, melting down, melting down. The kids in the cart are melting down. Lets hurry up!" (FYI: These words have actually been sung by my lips as I use the cart as a scooter to get where I need to be as quickly as possible) If sung at a volume just louder than the screaming, you will become the hero to every woman over 40 and the target of jealous glances from every woman who believes they don't have the confidence to do that. Whether or not it works on the kids, you appear together and relaxed. Mother of the year.

It works when kids are not around too, but you DO look slightly insane.

3. Dress for your OWN joy.

This is VERY IMPORTANT. (And my favourite new truth!) When shopping, buy ANYTHING (within reason, we all have a budget) that brings you joy. How often do we put on an item of clothing and we just HAVE to twirl in front of the mirror cause we love what we see, only to put it back because we don't think it's "me", or others may laugh cause we don't usually buy such.

WHAT???!!!

You just twirled. It's you. What could be more "you" than something that makes you feel like a 5 year old in a tutu? Buy the stupid coral polka dot cardigan and wear it with EVERYTHING! I know I do.

4. Chin up.

This one I learned from my 4-year-old's dance class.

 "What happens if a princess looks at the floor?" "Her crown FALLS OFF!" It's amazing what truths you can glean from little people. All the wealth, beauty, and joyful clothing in the world will "fall off" when you look at the floor. Wanna keep your crown? LOOK UP! Always up. Make eye contact with life. Every time your crown falls off, it dents a little, and takes work to bring the shine back up to snuff. Nothing says, "I am awesome, you want to be me" like a head held high.

5. Your not alone...

That woman you are eyeing who does all the above and makes you want to chuck your purse at her head..... is looking at the next woman and imagining her own handbag sailing across the room. Women I have always admired (such a positive word!) have admitted that they too have women in their life they try not to hate. I guarantee you. There is someone out there looking at you the way I look at Zoe.

When I first realized this, I felt completely hopeless. If the women I look at with green eyes of envy are looking at someone else, what can be done? But after more thought, I came to this conclusion. We are this way, because we are made to be God's beauty.

What??!

We are the culmination of God's creation. We ARE beauty. It's not something we can acheive. We can't lose the weight, buy the makeup, or wear the clothes that will MAKE us beautiful. We just are. Our human nature doesn't know what to do with this. We are all so different. How can we all BE beauty? So we compare.

Sorry. Hate to disappoint, but every woman has beauty. So, while you look at your own "Zoe" and try to figure out how to be her, there is someone else trying to emulate you.

This goes both ways. We all have people in our lives that we look down on. We don't understand why they can't get their acne under control, or why they don't lose a few pounds, or buy real pants. Next time you see them, really look at them. They are so very beautiful! EVERY woman has beauty.

EVERY WOMAN.

In your quest to be hated, I hope you also discover a tremendous new love for what it means to be a woman. We're all in this together!

What "Happily Ever After" looks like in the middle.

I was struck today by the drastic nature of the communication shift within my marriage since having children. What struck me, specifically?

"Not to worry, Honey. It was just one of those turtle-ing moments when it's starting to come out but you hold it in and run screaming. Not a major mess."

If you don't know what I am referring to, you've never had children.

WHAT HAPPENED??!!

I promise you, no words even REMOTELY resembling the above would ever had been uttered in conversation with my beloved 9 years ago.

9 years has flown by...

Some examples:

Sunday afternoon:

BEFORE
"I loved the part of the sermon about loving your neighbour. Maybe the whole baseball bat vs. mailbox thing was a bad idea."

AFTER
"I think I may have forgotten a dirty diaper on the pulpit. I hope the cleaning lady will find it."

9:00 PM Friday night

BEFORE
"Wanna go to Boston Pizza?"

AFTER
"So, wanna.......ummmmm.....(insert own slang here)......or just go to bed?"

6:00 PM Wednesday

BEFORE
"How was your day? I had the most amazing sandwich for lunch today at Subway!"

AFTER
"What do you mean, 'Won't be home by bedtime?'" (or insert above quote)



I will say it again: WHAT HAPPENED??!!

The picture has changed somewhat. 

This is unacceptable. I can't remember the last conversation I had with my husband that did not include the words: diaper, barf, poop, tantrum, or boogers. Romantic.

Somewhere between "I do!" and "Welcome baby!" we've become excrement obsessed, home-bound, old people.

Not ok.

"Date Night" now consists of dropping the kids off at the Grandparents and quickly zipping 15 minutes away to Steinbach to have supper and zipping back for bedtime. Since this usually means a choice of 2 restaurants......we don't get out much.

On the upside, we saw a sign in Steinbach the other day:

Coming Soon: Boston Pizza. Opening 2012.

My husband couldn't contain his excitement, "YAY! We can date again!!!"

This, my friends is where we are. Come to Boston Pizza on opening night and you can bet we will be standing in line for the doors to open. If talk of bodily fluids makes you uncomfortable, find another table, it's all we have to talk about. But don't worry, we won't be there long. Bedtime is at 8.

Doting mom or negligent monster?

Why is there never any middle ground?!

This week, my little girl started preschool. Leading up to this day, I shared in her excitement. We shopped for her first "indoor" shoes, bought the most AWEFUL glittery princess backpack, and talked about how fun it would be to start her new adventure. I thought this was normal.....

4 going on 15. This relationship is only getting started!

Apparently, once again, I am nowhere near normal.

Ready to go. Even the dog is excited!

Leave it to our good friend, social media, to make me question myself as a parent. (This happens more often than I would like to admit.)

As the big day approached, my friends' statuses began to look like tear-stained laments of time lost.

"They CAN'T grow up!"

"Have I taught them enough?"

"Dropped them off, went home and cried, life as I know it is OVER!"

As if the beautiful sentiments weren't enough when directed at general cyberspace, I was questioned personally about my thoughts. (Silly girl, complaining about considerate friends! I know, just keep reading.)

"Did Mommy cry?"

No. Mommy did not.

"How are you dealing?"

Last time I checked, I was NOT a dealer.

"Let me know how dropping her off goes." (This one sounds innocent but the intention was, "Let me know if you break down like a blubbering idiot.)

Have to have a pic next to the flowers.

Why the rant about my wonderful, considerate, caring friends?

They have revealed something in me I didn't realize was wrong.

I have absolutely NONE of these feelings. I don't know how to react to these questions. If I would answer completely honestly I would say:

"I feel awesome! She is so excited. She NEEDS the outing. I only wish my two little boys were old enough to go too. Is there a preschool that is EVERYDAY? Can I just send her down the driveway and a bus will come pick her up? Could we change it to all day? Is there a boarding preschool?

Ok, not that last one. But you get the picture. Some might say that I am just denying my feelings or I will have them yet, but with the barrage of sentiment, I TRIED. I really tried. I WANTED to relate to the mothers that wonder if they have done enough, prepared enough, taught enough to send their child out into the world. I just don't.

Is that bad?

Even my little boys exhibited major stress at the "loss" of their bossy playmate. They didn't know what to do with themselves. Instead of getting lots done, like I foolishly hoped, I spent the morning dealing with their overwhelming emotions.

So, major vulnerable moment going on here. Am I a negligent monster? Am I not attached enough to my children? Have I missed something?

All I know is that I LOVE MY KIDS. Fiercely, fully, and painfully. I ache for their future, knowing their struggles. I hope for their choices, knowing the temptations out there. But I guess I don't ache for myself, my own loss. Weird? Maybe. But I think I'll be ok...... I'm already dreading my sons' weddings, so I'm not completely heartless....

BTW: I love all my friends. Please don't stop asking me stuff......it makes me think. ;)

Logic spawns so much Drama!

Coming up with logical consequences for disobedience is sometimes nearly impossible. Not everything has a consequence that makes sense immediately, but is an important thing to learn. Today's infraction?

Going in Mommy's room without her knowledge. This is a rule in our house because toddlers can't really be trusted to refrain from jumping on the bed or depositing all your chapstick-sized items into your glass of water.

My 4-year-old is bad for "forgetting" this rule. Today she found a way to get in and deposit some teddy bear evidence before quietly removing herself and re-closing the door. When she couldn't find her teddy bear, Mommy came to the rescue only to incriminate the little victim. Oops. What to do?

I had to take a moment to think, and this always scares the kids far more than the consequence.

AHA!! I've got it. We have been talking about trust with the kids lately. Mostly in regards to telling the truth, but I seized the opportunity to broaden the definition. 

"Sweetheart, because I can no longer trust you to play upstairs alone without going in my room, you may not play upstairs without an adult for one week." She instantly realized that this meant that all her Barbies, teddy bears, and wooden paper dolls were inaccessible. 

"Mom, can you go get my Barbies?"

"Nope. They are upstairs and therefore part of the consequence for your disobedience. I'm really sorry."

This was followed by an extreme emotional reaction involving the words, "NEVER!..." "Devastated!..." and "Hopeless!.." Wow. She IS a dramatic one.

Though logical consequences are WAY more difficult to come up with, and sometimes non-existent, they always seem to be the most hard to swallow for my little ones. Maybe that's why I believe they are so effective. I LOVE logical consequences. Even when I have to butt heads with the most illogical of responses!

Perspective.

I watched a video today about a severely autistic girl who was unable to speak. For the first 11 years of her life she was labelled as developmentally delayed as well as autistic. (the actual diagnoses was "mentally retarded" but I will use the current term here) When she was eleven, they sat her in front of a computer for the first time and since then she has gone on to write a blog and started a novel. She answers questions not only coherently but more intelligently than most "average" kids. WOW.

Why is this relevant?

Enter Oli. My beautiful, energetic, highly intelligent son.

Though he is not even close to having the same symptoms as this lovely girl, my husband and I have tossed the "autism" ball around for some time. He has moderate social anxieties, including separation fears. These symptoms worsen when change to routine or environment occur. We struggle to bring him anywhere or have people over to visit without feeling severe embarrassment over his angry, and sometimes violent behaviour. I found myself constantly apologizing for him and "explaining" Oli to the people around him.

Enter a very special auntie and who I look to as a wonderful parenting figure. She found herself doing the same thing with her son. Always "explaining" how his brain works or why he was behaving a certain way. Right in front of her son. She encouraged me not to do this. Don't display for them that they are "defective" by explaining away what you perceive as faults. Hadn't thought of it that way.

I thought about what it would be like if my parents had always done this for me......

"My apologies. We've tried to get her to stop chewing on everything but she just seems to need the calories." (This is COMPLETELY untrue!)

"Sorry about her. She refuses to wear jeans so inappropriate leggings in a myriad of colours is all I can get on her body." (This one may be true...)

"Aw man! Sorry, we've tried to get her to talk slower, but her brain must work faster than most..." (Can't deny this one.)

Ok. So who am I kidding, they are all true.... (But I don't remember my parents ever saying things like this.)

Moral of the story?

I'm done apologizing for who my son is. That doesn't mean I am done teaching. In a private, safe place, I will still instruct and try to lead him in finding his way to more appropriate responses and behaviours. But the public displays of shame and dismay (which sounds harsh but let's face it, that's what it is!) are over!!

So if you see me do this, please remind me....I DO run on a "mom-brain" afterall...