Hi! My name is Mom, and I spoil my kids....
I spoil my kids. I'm not ashamed about it. As a single-mother of all boys, I believe it's important that I take my time and spoil them when and where I can. Usually it's making them a special dinner that I know they will LOVE, or taking them lunch at school, and occasionally surprising them with a really fun day away from our usual grind. I get shot with paintballs, I streak through the air below zip-lines, I hike into waterfalls, I set up a campsite like nobody's business, I catch curve balls without shin guards on and hit grounders to shortstop and I am submerged in youth sports, I've been covered in mud more times then I can count and I know more about a construction site than most people. I have learned that it is very important to do what your kids want to do WITH THEM! So, yes. I spoil my kids. I am their mom, every hour of everyday. I believe in acts of service and giving them such gifts. When I am at the grocery store I will purposefully pick goodies, special fruit, chocolates, popcorn, or a certain kind of juice that's $5 per bottle. I do this because I want to show my kids they are special to me and that I am always thinking of them whenever they aren't with me. I'm always considering them and how my action or inaction will benefit or hurt them. Being a mom is a lot of work! Speaking of work, I work....everyday. I am fortunate to have always made enough money to raise my family. On my own. I didn't make it sound easy right? I work very hard...and we play hard!
Before you assume I spoil my kids in the negative "spoiled rotten" sense, I will need to clarify. In my household, the kids have chores and responsibilities and they do what I tell them to at MOST given moments. It takes a team to run this place! They clean up the house, do dishes, take out trash and recycling, and they clean their own room. I DO NOT give them an allowance. I do not believe my kids should do chores for money, they need to do jobs around the house because it's life and they're learning a very important life skill. Jobs held outside the home are for payment. When they are grown up men, they will still have to do housework....without kudos and rewards! Trust me, I am sure nobody notices most of the dirty jobs that are handled in anyone's home! But they still have to get done! My kids earn money working for my dad with his construction company. They work hard! How I "repay" them for being an active part of this family, is with movie money, batting cage tokens, spending cash while hanging out with friends, eating out at their favorite restaurants, and probably many more examples I don't need to list. I do not believe I should purchase them everything they want just to get it. They understand hard work and that my money is spent foremost on bills and food, then necessities....then fun! You get the point. I spoil my kids with my time and attention mostly. I am at nearly every single practice and game, I help with homework, and volunteer in their classrooms and on sports teams. I've been chastised for dedicating too much time to my kids. I've been told I need my own life, time to myself and blah-blah-blah. Other's opinions can be very harsh, and some are also very supportive. I feel so blessed that I am able to do as much as I can and still work and support my family financially. I. Spoil. My. Kids.
Yesterday, I walked into my older kids room. I felt compelled to assess the damage from hurricane Weekend. As I started picking up random chip bags, Gatorade bottles, and assorted colored dirty socks....I realized that my oldest son had slept on the floor? Naturally, I checked their beds to see maybe if they were a mess or there were snakes in there or who knows really?! Brave, I know...maybe dumb as a mom of teenage boys. Anyway, a flood of inspiration came over me! As I threw pillows from their bunk-beds and stripped away sheets and wadded up blankets I decided they needed new mattress pads and pillows ASAP! I mean, how serene is the feeling of new, fresh, clean, cozy bedding to you? I know that when I slip into a freshly made bed with a plush mattress topper, 1000TC sheets, fluffy down comforter, plump pillows to line the headboard for leaning....it's just....aaaaahhhhh. This is the gift I chose to give my boys today. If this is the one simply frivolous favor I can do for my boys that they will enjoy for a while to come. At the local "Box" store, I filled my cart with mattress toppers and huge fluffy king pillows. While there I ran into my oldest son's grandma. It seemed ironic because she was the mother of all mothers and is now the grandmother equivalent! As a young mother to her only grandchild, I got to see her dote on her son and mine and she was very inspirational to me to become a doer of nice things. She is a true blessing to all of those around her. Of course, when I told her what I was up to, she loved it! Spoiling my kids is just one way I show them that I love them. I do believe that, as grown up men, they will be good receivers of attention and hopefully, learn how to spoil those they love.
In the evening, after the beds were all made-up, we were all standing outside in the cold rain and wind. All I said to them on the way home, "there's a surprise for you on your beds". At 14 & 16 years old, they have a tendency to display an underwhelming response, which I expected. However, at bedtime....it all came together. This is exactly what they needed! I received hugs and thanks of the quietest, coziest kind. I will take it. I love spoiling my kids like this. Not only words mean love. Actions show love. Intention shows you care. Consideration makes them feel special. I spoil my kids with love, Intention, and consideration.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Friday, December 10, 2010
Heroins & Villains: Part 3
Answering the phone was a gentle man's voice. A bit raspy but peaceful and methodical. I thought maybe I had called a Spa by accident! Much different than the men in my life. They are all abrasive with me. Aggressive and threatened I guess. The leaves on the trees were rusty colored and covered the wet sidewalk. Parking on an uneven concrete driveway that lead to a tall house we looked at each other in anticipation. We had arrived to speak to a man we did not know, but the mental health of our family lye in his hands. His office, which was actually an extra room in his home, was a bit cliche idea of how I would expect a Therapists office to look. A small couch, chair, and atop a wooden bookcase, there it was. A water feature. It trickled like all the others I had seen while getting a massage. An average height man with a peppery grey beard entered, looked in our eyes and shaking hands with the both of us. It was only the beginning.
Once the anticipation subsided, I found myself enveloped in every detail of our lives. Though he wanted to work bits at a time, I was like that fountain. So cliche. But, that's where all of this has gotten me. Our family was in crisis mode and one person brought us here. They say it takes five positives to erase one negative. I don't know who "they" are but I hope their ratio is right.
The past 7 weeks have flown by. I am lagging behind in all of this holiday splendor. Our street is littered with twinkling lights of all colors, animated reindeer, and even a few controversial Merry Christmas signs perched by front doors. Tall decorated trees in windows of retail stores taunt me. Reminding me that I am in desperate need of just a few special gifts. If only I had time...and money...and holiday spirit. Sadly enough, spending every single day in school aside my fourth grader doesn't pay well. Actually, I am the one paying. My nose is running, I can hear my phone vibrating behind the substitute teachers work station, and the kids keep giggling every time they hear my stomach growl. If only there were a fax machine in the classroom...Financial aide is for those who qualify...and get their papers in! Needless to ask, is it Christmas break yet? Lucky for me though, the pressure to be in the Bakery was lessened when the owner decided to go to Germany for a couple of weeks. That eased my mind and I was able to concentrate on multiplication tables and reading groups instead of bread orders and pizza recipes!
In an effort to regain my true self again, I have enrolled back in college. I have rounded up a couple of jobs which will allow me to be at home...with a paycheck on the way. I need progress. To move forward all the time. It's ironic that my family owns a construction company that specializes in foundations. Yet, I am the only one whom has gone to college? (Insert inaudible giggles) So many moms get lost. Men get lost as well. We overlook some key factors that will begin to crack our foundations if they go unattended. Many people I know are on similar journeys. I find it comforting. Being a mother is the most rewarding volunteer work you can do. But somewhere along the way, I have begun to feel isolated. In an effort to completely commit to making a marriage, I left my old self waiting on the bench waiting for a bus with no ticket. There are things with my marriage I have left unattended and my foundation is cracked. There is a long list of things my single-self never had to manage. I am good with myself, what I am doing and which direction to roll. When to begin and stop. Co-habitation is a whole new deal. Well, more like the breaking of deals. All is balanced when all parties maintain their own foundations. Maybe someday I will elaborate.
So, here I sit. Mind racing all over town. In a cafe I use to manage. Eating a pile of Caprese, but not an amazingly seasoned pile. Reminds me that I need to get them some Gluten Free bread samples to relieve me of this sloppy mess. Today, celebrating with a house coffee and extra whip. My son is at school by himself for the moment. A self-imposed challenge. He asked if he could go to P.E., Lunch and recess without me. This is exactly what I am looking to happen. I cannot wait until he is able to go everyday feeling confident and secure without me. Sigh.
Once the anticipation subsided, I found myself enveloped in every detail of our lives. Though he wanted to work bits at a time, I was like that fountain. So cliche. But, that's where all of this has gotten me. Our family was in crisis mode and one person brought us here. They say it takes five positives to erase one negative. I don't know who "they" are but I hope their ratio is right.
The past 7 weeks have flown by. I am lagging behind in all of this holiday splendor. Our street is littered with twinkling lights of all colors, animated reindeer, and even a few controversial Merry Christmas signs perched by front doors. Tall decorated trees in windows of retail stores taunt me. Reminding me that I am in desperate need of just a few special gifts. If only I had time...and money...and holiday spirit. Sadly enough, spending every single day in school aside my fourth grader doesn't pay well. Actually, I am the one paying. My nose is running, I can hear my phone vibrating behind the substitute teachers work station, and the kids keep giggling every time they hear my stomach growl. If only there were a fax machine in the classroom...Financial aide is for those who qualify...and get their papers in! Needless to ask, is it Christmas break yet? Lucky for me though, the pressure to be in the Bakery was lessened when the owner decided to go to Germany for a couple of weeks. That eased my mind and I was able to concentrate on multiplication tables and reading groups instead of bread orders and pizza recipes!
In an effort to regain my true self again, I have enrolled back in college. I have rounded up a couple of jobs which will allow me to be at home...with a paycheck on the way. I need progress. To move forward all the time. It's ironic that my family owns a construction company that specializes in foundations. Yet, I am the only one whom has gone to college? (Insert inaudible giggles) So many moms get lost. Men get lost as well. We overlook some key factors that will begin to crack our foundations if they go unattended. Many people I know are on similar journeys. I find it comforting. Being a mother is the most rewarding volunteer work you can do. But somewhere along the way, I have begun to feel isolated. In an effort to completely commit to making a marriage, I left my old self waiting on the bench waiting for a bus with no ticket. There are things with my marriage I have left unattended and my foundation is cracked. There is a long list of things my single-self never had to manage. I am good with myself, what I am doing and which direction to roll. When to begin and stop. Co-habitation is a whole new deal. Well, more like the breaking of deals. All is balanced when all parties maintain their own foundations. Maybe someday I will elaborate.
So, here I sit. Mind racing all over town. In a cafe I use to manage. Eating a pile of Caprese, but not an amazingly seasoned pile. Reminds me that I need to get them some Gluten Free bread samples to relieve me of this sloppy mess. Today, celebrating with a house coffee and extra whip. My son is at school by himself for the moment. A self-imposed challenge. He asked if he could go to P.E., Lunch and recess without me. This is exactly what I am looking to happen. I cannot wait until he is able to go everyday feeling confident and secure without me. Sigh.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Heroins & Villains: Part 2
Through many failed attempts at sleepovers, on both sides of the street, they too had to be eliminated. All of my growing up was spent in the same neighborhood, with lifelong friends. Summer days spent running til dusk on the many trails and floating winding canals and catching snakes on the rocks which surround the Bay near my dad's house. There were not many manicured yards or housekeepers where I came from. There was pure joy, creativity, innocence and wholesomeness in the games we made up and the way we were to each other. Of course we had tiffs, but we were just being kids. Figuring out who we were. There was such freedom for us to just be ourselves, that we are all strong and well balanced to this day. Nostalgia is why I was so excited for my boys to have friends like that.
On the final day of Summer soccer, I will admit I was relieved to be free of any obligatory time I had been paying to this other family. Then again we were finished, and again, and again. Our sports seasons nearly run into each other, but that is planned just so. Keeping kids busy in organized sports is a great outlet for them. Anyway, I need to include Halloween day as an ironic catalyst. It fell on a Sunday this year. In the late afternoon, I had to go to work. Not a serious career move, but a well paying side job. All three kids were at home with my husband. In itself, a momentous occasion which usually ends in mommy mediation. Not fun, but it's my life. This day was quite abnormal though. When I got home in the early evening, it was time to get on costumes, leave to Grampa's and collect candy from strangers at their front doors. My nine year-old was a bit apprehensive. Shy and a bit reclusive, which is very unlike this class clown. Trotting from house to house, but ready to get home after only a couple of long blocks. Could they just be growing up? I'm not ready for that!
There was an epic explosion that very next day. It happened to be just the first of many over the next few weeks. I was in my Bakery when the call came through. My dad is an integral part of the story. When I had s boy, we were living with my dad. He was always an active, consistent, single parent. Wonderful, in-home sitters are nearly impossible to find, however he was offended at the idea of anyone else watching his grand baby so that I could go back to work. Over the next five years, we preceded to uphold this routine without fail. Though we did not live with him after the first year. This man makes it to every game and practice for sporting events, every school function, Holiday and is around nearly every day of the week. He and my middle son are the closest of the bunch. This is a huge part of the saga, as you will learn. As the principal explained to me over the phone, my son had displayed an array of undesirable behaviors, and was therefore suspended! I don't feel the importance of including the details of this interaction. Partially because it is unimportant to the process and the larger portion is that it is irrelevant. Obvious to me, this was a reaction to something that was inside him and had little to do with the facts in that classroom. Their reality was having changed teachers. This change was the first of three over the next two weeks.
Suspension is not particularly productive in my theory of punishment. One side of the spectrum would say that the parents will be so put out that their punishments at home will be enough to make the kids never repeat the same behavior. What if these kids were getting abused due to being stuck at home and not in school? When does it become enough of a financial burden for these adults to miss work and stay home? Should students be home alone? What exactly do administrators expect us to do at home? Our kids did not get in trouble at home, yet we are suppose to teach them a lesson? Even dog trainers know that you should not scold a dog for running off when he finally comes home!
I will say that I am proud to be a proactive parent. Although it's not so revered by certain school district members at the moment. I really don't care. My interest is getting my son through school, no matter what the cost. Maybe it's time I can start offering advice to any parent in a similar situation. You are the advocate for your child. Principals and anyone employed by the school district are not obligated to help your child. Their best interest is their priority. This is not to say that the men and women here will not go above and beyond their job description, and I will give them much praise throughout the latter part of this...where it is due. Everyone wants to be thought of as a Hero but their actions are what forces them to be viewed as Villains.
For now, I must go. Although the actions of my son have been repeated pretty much like the story before. I do not feel it is important to wallow in the muddy mess that has gotten me to where I am right now.
On the final day of Summer soccer, I will admit I was relieved to be free of any obligatory time I had been paying to this other family. Then again we were finished, and again, and again. Our sports seasons nearly run into each other, but that is planned just so. Keeping kids busy in organized sports is a great outlet for them. Anyway, I need to include Halloween day as an ironic catalyst. It fell on a Sunday this year. In the late afternoon, I had to go to work. Not a serious career move, but a well paying side job. All three kids were at home with my husband. In itself, a momentous occasion which usually ends in mommy mediation. Not fun, but it's my life. This day was quite abnormal though. When I got home in the early evening, it was time to get on costumes, leave to Grampa's and collect candy from strangers at their front doors. My nine year-old was a bit apprehensive. Shy and a bit reclusive, which is very unlike this class clown. Trotting from house to house, but ready to get home after only a couple of long blocks. Could they just be growing up? I'm not ready for that!
There was an epic explosion that very next day. It happened to be just the first of many over the next few weeks. I was in my Bakery when the call came through. My dad is an integral part of the story. When I had s boy, we were living with my dad. He was always an active, consistent, single parent. Wonderful, in-home sitters are nearly impossible to find, however he was offended at the idea of anyone else watching his grand baby so that I could go back to work. Over the next five years, we preceded to uphold this routine without fail. Though we did not live with him after the first year. This man makes it to every game and practice for sporting events, every school function, Holiday and is around nearly every day of the week. He and my middle son are the closest of the bunch. This is a huge part of the saga, as you will learn. As the principal explained to me over the phone, my son had displayed an array of undesirable behaviors, and was therefore suspended! I don't feel the importance of including the details of this interaction. Partially because it is unimportant to the process and the larger portion is that it is irrelevant. Obvious to me, this was a reaction to something that was inside him and had little to do with the facts in that classroom. Their reality was having changed teachers. This change was the first of three over the next two weeks.
Suspension is not particularly productive in my theory of punishment. One side of the spectrum would say that the parents will be so put out that their punishments at home will be enough to make the kids never repeat the same behavior. What if these kids were getting abused due to being stuck at home and not in school? When does it become enough of a financial burden for these adults to miss work and stay home? Should students be home alone? What exactly do administrators expect us to do at home? Our kids did not get in trouble at home, yet we are suppose to teach them a lesson? Even dog trainers know that you should not scold a dog for running off when he finally comes home!
I will say that I am proud to be a proactive parent. Although it's not so revered by certain school district members at the moment. I really don't care. My interest is getting my son through school, no matter what the cost. Maybe it's time I can start offering advice to any parent in a similar situation. You are the advocate for your child. Principals and anyone employed by the school district are not obligated to help your child. Their best interest is their priority. This is not to say that the men and women here will not go above and beyond their job description, and I will give them much praise throughout the latter part of this...where it is due. Everyone wants to be thought of as a Hero but their actions are what forces them to be viewed as Villains.
For now, I must go. Although the actions of my son have been repeated pretty much like the story before. I do not feel it is important to wallow in the muddy mess that has gotten me to where I am right now.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Heroins & Villains: Part 1
What would you do if your child was bullied? If there were damage inflicted that you cannot prevent or mend? When you know the actions of Villains have changed the way your prodigy sees himself, thinks of himself and where he is going in life. In early childhood many of us are told that we are a certain way based on the behaviors we exhibit or just on the purely biased opinions of the ones that love us. For myself, there are two positive affirmations that were told to me. 1: I am pretty 2: I can live anywhere I want to. It seems a bit abstract looking back, and I am sure there may have been others, but none as significant. With plenty of negatives to list, I need not bother wasting the time. For my 9 year-old, I have always used verbal affirmations as a positive reinforcement tool. I get to be his heroin. However, many of them have now been altered by Social Weaponry.
Moving to a new neighborhood is intimidating, unsure and exciting for kids. Our previous home was surrounded by second-homes near the Beach. The only foot traffic passing by were senior citizens walking their alien-looking dogs wearing jackets that didn't make them look any more friendly than my boys looked with sticks in their hands! Unpacking boxes and arranging bookshelves is revival for all of the miscellaneous card games and things we had forgotten about. It was June and the weather was finally starting to be more consistently sunny. Fed-up with being indoors, we headed out to investigate our back yard. My youngest was about a month old, napping, and we were free to play for atleast a couple of hours. Although the grass had not been mowed for what looked to be a year, we made up the greatest hunting/war/recon game ever. When you've got boys, you make lemonade! Hiding under the Old Growth blades of grass, I discovered a board that was missing from the back fence. Standing up, my great revelation was to jump through and see what was back there. My mission was aborted as I fell under enemy fire. I guess it wasn't a good idea?
Fall afternoons are so peaceful. The sun seems to glow a deeper orange and the dusty pollen floats in the air romanticizing the scent of your skin. From the blanket I had strewn across the grass however, I overheard a couple of unfamiliar voices just over the front gate. Pretending to be simply bask in the sun, I suggested they try discovering what was on the "other" side of this back fence. Conveniently, I had not fixed the missing board yet. Suddenly, this was a genious idea.
The older boy was tall and thin, with spikey black hair and legs that seemed to be a mile long. Accentuated by the jeans he wore, which rode high on his waist and well above his ankle bone, exposing his all-black tennis shoes. He seemed confident and looked me in the eye when he spoke to me. His younger brother was still younger than both my boys. Shorter than what I remember a 7 year-old to be, but had the same black spikey hair and presentation. However, was a bit dodgy in conversation and seemed uncomfortable and fidgity. My assessment time was apparently a big hold-up. Off they went, jumping the six foot fence and crashing through the high brush. I was so elated they had finally made a couple of friends and were back there doing what kids do!
One of my goals is to always maintain an active lifestyle with my family. Gardening is a hobby to me and all of the boys help me with things of and on throughout the seasons. We planted more vegetables than I remember, however I recall my Tomatoes were doing exceptionally well. Mid-afternoon, this new older boy had jumped into the middle of them, busting up the stalks and limbs in two large footprint-sized holes. I had noticed him jumping from the fence, and felt it appropriate to let him know that we don't do that here. When I discovered the disheveled plants, I politely confronted all of the boys hoping he could just admit to it and we could use it as a positive. Instead, I had to tell him I saw him do it, and that lying was not allowed, and I had them go home. Little did I know, this was just the beginning of a nearly lethal cycle.
Not holding any grudges, the kids continued playing together and us parents began to forge friendships as well. I was raised mostly by a single father, so when I learned they only had a father, I was able to empathize with their situation, offer some insight and support. Since my kids were going to play soccer, I asked permission to sign these boys up as well. Once the soccer season began, I started noticing tension and listened alot closer to conversations. My boys have played soccer for nearly five years now. So, I knew naturally there would be some insecurity and jealousy because the other boys had not ever been able to play on a team before and mine are well established, affluent players. My older son began not enjoying himself and expressed some doubts in his ability. Something was going on when I was not around which was causing my younger son to stand up for himself and brother. So, like a true ninja, I started evesdropping...a lot. Although I was continuing my obligation to transport these kids, I realized we seriously needed to cut back the time they were spending alone together.
Moving to a new neighborhood is intimidating, unsure and exciting for kids. Our previous home was surrounded by second-homes near the Beach. The only foot traffic passing by were senior citizens walking their alien-looking dogs wearing jackets that didn't make them look any more friendly than my boys looked with sticks in their hands! Unpacking boxes and arranging bookshelves is revival for all of the miscellaneous card games and things we had forgotten about. It was June and the weather was finally starting to be more consistently sunny. Fed-up with being indoors, we headed out to investigate our back yard. My youngest was about a month old, napping, and we were free to play for atleast a couple of hours. Although the grass had not been mowed for what looked to be a year, we made up the greatest hunting/war/recon game ever. When you've got boys, you make lemonade! Hiding under the Old Growth blades of grass, I discovered a board that was missing from the back fence. Standing up, my great revelation was to jump through and see what was back there. My mission was aborted as I fell under enemy fire. I guess it wasn't a good idea?
Fall afternoons are so peaceful. The sun seems to glow a deeper orange and the dusty pollen floats in the air romanticizing the scent of your skin. From the blanket I had strewn across the grass however, I overheard a couple of unfamiliar voices just over the front gate. Pretending to be simply bask in the sun, I suggested they try discovering what was on the "other" side of this back fence. Conveniently, I had not fixed the missing board yet. Suddenly, this was a genious idea.
The older boy was tall and thin, with spikey black hair and legs that seemed to be a mile long. Accentuated by the jeans he wore, which rode high on his waist and well above his ankle bone, exposing his all-black tennis shoes. He seemed confident and looked me in the eye when he spoke to me. His younger brother was still younger than both my boys. Shorter than what I remember a 7 year-old to be, but had the same black spikey hair and presentation. However, was a bit dodgy in conversation and seemed uncomfortable and fidgity. My assessment time was apparently a big hold-up. Off they went, jumping the six foot fence and crashing through the high brush. I was so elated they had finally made a couple of friends and were back there doing what kids do!
One of my goals is to always maintain an active lifestyle with my family. Gardening is a hobby to me and all of the boys help me with things of and on throughout the seasons. We planted more vegetables than I remember, however I recall my Tomatoes were doing exceptionally well. Mid-afternoon, this new older boy had jumped into the middle of them, busting up the stalks and limbs in two large footprint-sized holes. I had noticed him jumping from the fence, and felt it appropriate to let him know that we don't do that here. When I discovered the disheveled plants, I politely confronted all of the boys hoping he could just admit to it and we could use it as a positive. Instead, I had to tell him I saw him do it, and that lying was not allowed, and I had them go home. Little did I know, this was just the beginning of a nearly lethal cycle.
Not holding any grudges, the kids continued playing together and us parents began to forge friendships as well. I was raised mostly by a single father, so when I learned they only had a father, I was able to empathize with their situation, offer some insight and support. Since my kids were going to play soccer, I asked permission to sign these boys up as well. Once the soccer season began, I started noticing tension and listened alot closer to conversations. My boys have played soccer for nearly five years now. So, I knew naturally there would be some insecurity and jealousy because the other boys had not ever been able to play on a team before and mine are well established, affluent players. My older son began not enjoying himself and expressed some doubts in his ability. Something was going on when I was not around which was causing my younger son to stand up for himself and brother. So, like a true ninja, I started evesdropping...a lot. Although I was continuing my obligation to transport these kids, I realized we seriously needed to cut back the time they were spending alone together.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Off to the Races!
RING!! RING!! RIIINNGG!! Uugghhh...stretching across a mile wide bed to get over my husband's chest and to the phone...the 3am wake up call I didn't know about, but figured it was coming. "Oh it's time to get going" attempting to inspire myself. Legs...legs...walk me to the bathroom. Uuugghhh...the steam engine in my head started without me in the wee hours of this morning. 6am flight huh? Alright. Up and at 'em mamma.
The hot water beating on my back is bliss. Asleep standing. Reminded of the upcoming events. Flush...oh cold water cold...I'm getting out! Living with four other people can bring mommy's quiet moments to a screeching halt just like the shock of icy water in your face. Wrapping my dripping body in a towel, starting to repack suit cases, preparing bottles, making a bite-size pot of Hilton Garden Inn supreme coffee...not turning toward the beds of fluffy down comforters and 5oo thread count heaven for fear that they may suck me in like the night before. Shuffling and choosing clothes for everyone...maybe I should get dressed? They probably won't let me through the security gate like this!
Personal affects for 5 people. 3 superhuman-size suit cases @ $75 each for excess weight. 3 suitable carry-on bags. 1 diaper/mommy bag. 4:45am in the pouring rain, shuttle service to pdx. Leading the pack to the airline desk. They were having so much fun searching the signs for our airline, gazing in disbelief at the various makes and models of fellow travelers. (Thank goodness for being a military family...asking nicely, the attendant for our airline waived the fees for all of our bags! One of the few benefits of being in the military...) Treasure hunting past TSA checkpoints. Declaration of various products in my armament of nourishment and entertainment. I have never met a nicer TSA bag inspector. Lucky for me, she laughed when I asked her if I could borrow her "sniffer machine" for diapers!
My longing for coffee generally sends my husband on his own little treasure hunt. Almost missing our flight was sweeter thanks to my Venti Cup of rejuvenation. Caffeine induction was sure to get me through this day of airborn excitement. Dreading take-off, inserting a bottle into this baby's mouth was sure to help his ears. Shimmying, rolling along the tarmac, preparing for our journey into a mommy's unknown, he fell asleep! Oh my goodness! All of this agonizing worry about the noise, and elevation effects...went off without a hitch...really...this was me with my kids? Off to the races!!!
Loading...Unloading...Layover. Flight 209 from Portland to Denver arrived 10 minutes early. Gate 25A will be boarding about 15 minutes late. Bringing our grand total to 135 minutes of free time. Walking past an unoccupied gate, noticing the open space for the baby to roam, I unleashed him into the great unknown. Like a wild stallion, he raced across the floor heading for the floor-to-ceiling windows which overlook the aircraft service areas. Pressing his belly against the frigid glass, the look in his eyes was asking me to just let him takeoff. Plopping to his backside once again he takes-off toward the foot path of the drones of people rushing to catch connections. He lives for the challenge. Unaware there is a baby actually trying to keep up with them, ladies and gentlemen, kids and pilots alike just smile at him and comment about how cute he is...little do they know, he's on his way! The determination in Van's eyes is astounding. He is my child. World: brace yourselves. Here comes change.
Family and anyone needing extra assistance, please board now! Ticket stubs to kids? Check. Seats 4a through 4d? Check. Overhead stowed? Check. Mobile TV purchased? Check. Gazing out the window, the kids on the plane all yell "We are moving!!!" with excitement. Van is asleep again. Seriously? Could this be any easier?
Arriving in San Antonio, we were all flooded with a variety of emotions. Anxiety and nerves. Wonder and jubilence. The big boys are great at following signs, spotting our luggage from a mile away, and were so nervous to meet the family we did not yet know. Making our way to the front entrance, and the huge, round rotating doors, we were met with open arms.
...once again, we are off to the races!!!
The hot water beating on my back is bliss. Asleep standing. Reminded of the upcoming events. Flush...oh cold water cold...I'm getting out! Living with four other people can bring mommy's quiet moments to a screeching halt just like the shock of icy water in your face. Wrapping my dripping body in a towel, starting to repack suit cases, preparing bottles, making a bite-size pot of Hilton Garden Inn supreme coffee...not turning toward the beds of fluffy down comforters and 5oo thread count heaven for fear that they may suck me in like the night before. Shuffling and choosing clothes for everyone...maybe I should get dressed? They probably won't let me through the security gate like this!
Personal affects for 5 people. 3 superhuman-size suit cases @ $75 each for excess weight. 3 suitable carry-on bags. 1 diaper/mommy bag. 4:45am in the pouring rain, shuttle service to pdx. Leading the pack to the airline desk. They were having so much fun searching the signs for our airline, gazing in disbelief at the various makes and models of fellow travelers. (Thank goodness for being a military family...asking nicely, the attendant for our airline waived the fees for all of our bags! One of the few benefits of being in the military...) Treasure hunting past TSA checkpoints. Declaration of various products in my armament of nourishment and entertainment. I have never met a nicer TSA bag inspector. Lucky for me, she laughed when I asked her if I could borrow her "sniffer machine" for diapers!
My longing for coffee generally sends my husband on his own little treasure hunt. Almost missing our flight was sweeter thanks to my Venti Cup of rejuvenation. Caffeine induction was sure to get me through this day of airborn excitement. Dreading take-off, inserting a bottle into this baby's mouth was sure to help his ears. Shimmying, rolling along the tarmac, preparing for our journey into a mommy's unknown, he fell asleep! Oh my goodness! All of this agonizing worry about the noise, and elevation effects...went off without a hitch...really...this was me with my kids? Off to the races!!!
Loading...Unloading...Layover. Flight 209 from Portland to Denver arrived 10 minutes early. Gate 25A will be boarding about 15 minutes late. Bringing our grand total to 135 minutes of free time. Walking past an unoccupied gate, noticing the open space for the baby to roam, I unleashed him into the great unknown. Like a wild stallion, he raced across the floor heading for the floor-to-ceiling windows which overlook the aircraft service areas. Pressing his belly against the frigid glass, the look in his eyes was asking me to just let him takeoff. Plopping to his backside once again he takes-off toward the foot path of the drones of people rushing to catch connections. He lives for the challenge. Unaware there is a baby actually trying to keep up with them, ladies and gentlemen, kids and pilots alike just smile at him and comment about how cute he is...little do they know, he's on his way! The determination in Van's eyes is astounding. He is my child. World: brace yourselves. Here comes change.
Family and anyone needing extra assistance, please board now! Ticket stubs to kids? Check. Seats 4a through 4d? Check. Overhead stowed? Check. Mobile TV purchased? Check. Gazing out the window, the kids on the plane all yell "We are moving!!!" with excitement. Van is asleep again. Seriously? Could this be any easier?
Arriving in San Antonio, we were all flooded with a variety of emotions. Anxiety and nerves. Wonder and jubilence. The big boys are great at following signs, spotting our luggage from a mile away, and were so nervous to meet the family we did not yet know. Making our way to the front entrance, and the huge, round rotating doors, we were met with open arms.
...once again, we are off to the races!!!
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Surround Sound !!!!
I have welcomed myself in to the digital age. I have to admit that I have been a bit resistant to the interactive-ness of it all. Shall it be considered interactivity when one child is consumed in a handheld version of virtuality, one is world-wide searching games to play while sitting next to a shelf full of board games? (Not to be confused with "bored games") Don't get me wrong, my kids are very healthy, active, athletic kids. Probably abnormal at the amount of video games they don't play.
On a given home-school day, my eight-year old is allowed to listen to his music via headphones for concentration. When the overall mood elevates, it is best managed with some XM-coffeehouse tunes cranked up to 34. Driving anytime we can be witnessed belting out the words of whatever beats occupy the disk changer, or even making up our own words and forcing each other to crack up! Yeah, we let it all hang out.
Every mother has those days...you know those days. When you just can't think straight...or crooked for that matter! My brain fills up so fast with mystery-item grocery lists, breakfast mess left behind, school work instructions, stained laundry, and late fees on bills...not to mention why the baby is suddenly not tired!! Oh man, we all need naps! So yes...I'm not sure how it is for other moms that have 3+boys, but it seems that I am always wrong. I swear some days that I consider joining the circus or a religious cult! Saying this all funny and cute is totally a facade for a much deeper issue.
"Put the recyclables in the tote with the green lid please"..."the recyclables go into the tote with the GREEN lid"..."recyclables, green lid"...PLEASE pick the recycling out of the garbage can"..."from blue lid into green lid"...Seriously?!" mama...mama... "No, the man that takes the recycling does not check our garbage for recycling...sure, in a perfect world...yes, that's a great idea to recycle cat poop but, ...we recycle because they grind up the items and use the stuff to make new stuff...and it's responsible...well, kinda like that...I don't think I could recycle my car...or the shed...I know it's made of pretty much the same stuff.......breathing, breathing, WHY DON'T YOU STAND AND WAIT FOR THE RECYCLING GUY THAT DRIVES THE DAMN TRUCK AND ASK HIM WHY!? I DON'T DECIDE WHAT THE COMPANY ACCEPTS! I CAN ONLY FOLLOW THE DAMN RULES AND PUT THE DAMN STUFF INTO THE RIGHT DAMN TOTE AND THEN TAKE THE DAMN STUFF TO THE DAMN STREET AND THEN BRING THE TOTE BACK AND DO THE DAMN SHIT AGAIN EVERY WEEK LIKE A DAMN ROBOT!!!!!!!! Knowing I have not had enough sleep for this conversation is just...it's just...
Yeah, that's a real-life example. Truth: I don't have all the answers. Generally I can get by on factual explanations and use it as a "teachable moment". When there are 4 or 5 guys reading me the riot act every second of everyday, I get a bit-lot defensive. Edgy. Feisty. Tough. Some days they ask questions and then when I start to answer, they interject "I KNOW" into my sentence. Admitting to the next part is not my proudest offense, but I have to confess. Sometimes I just don't react and pretend they haven't spoken at all...then I react as if they had said something I wanted to hear. The smile on my face makes them wonder if I have completely lost it...maybe I have.
Just to clear this up for a moment. Taking care of my kids is wonderful. My love is the most impossibly loving affliction. Here I go justifying again. My matriarchal ways get me every time. If I did not love them all with every bit of what I am, It wouldn't bother me. As my father says to my husband: "She complains because she cares...if she stops it's time to worry!"
Today we watched Revolutionary Road. Scary. Similar. The part I could identify with the most was the final breakfast. She was just numb. Finished. There was no longer any amount of fight that could be productive in the resolution. A "good" wife. She smiled, completed her tasks. Not mentioning the prior nights events. Creepy if you've seen it! But I never expected the movie to finish the way it did, and don't agree with it. I too have found myself engulfed in the reality of situations in marriage that no longer require reaction. Although the events which transpired deserve attention. The repetition of conversations means that the message is not being considered. Empathy not granted. There comes a time you take things into your own hands. Take inventory. Trim the fat.
This "digital age" has lent me tools to cope with complaints. Thanks to headphones and the Blackeyed Peas, I found some damn peace. Just last night, folding laundry, baby in bed, cute family sitting around, I made a witty comment of the sarcastic sort and was met with static for which I did not desire to hear. Play: At this moment of empowerment, the music filled my ears. A smile spread across my face. A groove hit my hips. Drowning out the static inside of my head. My shoulders lowered. I totally get it now! This surround sound was amazing! I felt free. Aside from the confused gazes and resisting the overwhelming urge to laugh!
After just minutes, they all realized that i was no longer able to cope with the constant complaints, opposition to and lack thereof hearty conversation. It does suffice to say that surround sound saved my sanity! Who knew that I could fight this battle with the weapons used against me! How bout a nice big gulp of this medicine! Yes, I can just be goofy and not make a big deal about it all. I am worn out! This constant is going to kill me if I don't start having some fun.
Making a point is like fine art. Each person has their own perception. It seems everyone in my life imposes requirements, jobs and expectations. My power is standing up for myself. They each get what they need and check-out frequently. If I can't beat them I am joining them. One of my resolutions for this New Year is dance therapy. Yes! Induced by surround sound.
On a given home-school day, my eight-year old is allowed to listen to his music via headphones for concentration. When the overall mood elevates, it is best managed with some XM-coffeehouse tunes cranked up to 34. Driving anytime we can be witnessed belting out the words of whatever beats occupy the disk changer, or even making up our own words and forcing each other to crack up! Yeah, we let it all hang out.
Every mother has those days...you know those days. When you just can't think straight...or crooked for that matter! My brain fills up so fast with mystery-item grocery lists, breakfast mess left behind, school work instructions, stained laundry, and late fees on bills...not to mention why the baby is suddenly not tired!! Oh man, we all need naps! So yes...I'm not sure how it is for other moms that have 3+boys, but it seems that I am always wrong. I swear some days that I consider joining the circus or a religious cult! Saying this all funny and cute is totally a facade for a much deeper issue.
"Put the recyclables in the tote with the green lid please"..."the recyclables go into the tote with the GREEN lid"..."recyclables, green lid"...PLEASE pick the recycling out of the garbage can"..."from blue lid into green lid"...Seriously?!" mama...mama... "No, the man that takes the recycling does not check our garbage for recycling...sure, in a perfect world...yes, that's a great idea to recycle cat poop but, ...we recycle because they grind up the items and use the stuff to make new stuff...and it's responsible...well, kinda like that...I don't think I could recycle my car...or the shed...I know it's made of pretty much the same stuff.......breathing, breathing, WHY DON'T YOU STAND AND WAIT FOR THE RECYCLING GUY THAT DRIVES THE DAMN TRUCK AND ASK HIM WHY!? I DON'T DECIDE WHAT THE COMPANY ACCEPTS! I CAN ONLY FOLLOW THE DAMN RULES AND PUT THE DAMN STUFF INTO THE RIGHT DAMN TOTE AND THEN TAKE THE DAMN STUFF TO THE DAMN STREET AND THEN BRING THE TOTE BACK AND DO THE DAMN SHIT AGAIN EVERY WEEK LIKE A DAMN ROBOT!!!!!!!! Knowing I have not had enough sleep for this conversation is just...it's just...
Yeah, that's a real-life example. Truth: I don't have all the answers. Generally I can get by on factual explanations and use it as a "teachable moment". When there are 4 or 5 guys reading me the riot act every second of everyday, I get a bit-lot defensive. Edgy. Feisty. Tough. Some days they ask questions and then when I start to answer, they interject "I KNOW" into my sentence. Admitting to the next part is not my proudest offense, but I have to confess. Sometimes I just don't react and pretend they haven't spoken at all...then I react as if they had said something I wanted to hear. The smile on my face makes them wonder if I have completely lost it...maybe I have.
Just to clear this up for a moment. Taking care of my kids is wonderful. My love is the most impossibly loving affliction. Here I go justifying again. My matriarchal ways get me every time. If I did not love them all with every bit of what I am, It wouldn't bother me. As my father says to my husband: "She complains because she cares...if she stops it's time to worry!"
Today we watched Revolutionary Road. Scary. Similar. The part I could identify with the most was the final breakfast. She was just numb. Finished. There was no longer any amount of fight that could be productive in the resolution. A "good" wife. She smiled, completed her tasks. Not mentioning the prior nights events. Creepy if you've seen it! But I never expected the movie to finish the way it did, and don't agree with it. I too have found myself engulfed in the reality of situations in marriage that no longer require reaction. Although the events which transpired deserve attention. The repetition of conversations means that the message is not being considered. Empathy not granted. There comes a time you take things into your own hands. Take inventory. Trim the fat.
This "digital age" has lent me tools to cope with complaints. Thanks to headphones and the Blackeyed Peas, I found some damn peace. Just last night, folding laundry, baby in bed, cute family sitting around, I made a witty comment of the sarcastic sort and was met with static for which I did not desire to hear. Play: At this moment of empowerment, the music filled my ears. A smile spread across my face. A groove hit my hips. Drowning out the static inside of my head. My shoulders lowered. I totally get it now! This surround sound was amazing! I felt free. Aside from the confused gazes and resisting the overwhelming urge to laugh!
After just minutes, they all realized that i was no longer able to cope with the constant complaints, opposition to and lack thereof hearty conversation. It does suffice to say that surround sound saved my sanity! Who knew that I could fight this battle with the weapons used against me! How bout a nice big gulp of this medicine! Yes, I can just be goofy and not make a big deal about it all. I am worn out! This constant is going to kill me if I don't start having some fun.
Making a point is like fine art. Each person has their own perception. It seems everyone in my life imposes requirements, jobs and expectations. My power is standing up for myself. They each get what they need and check-out frequently. If I can't beat them I am joining them. One of my resolutions for this New Year is dance therapy. Yes! Induced by surround sound.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Those were the days...
There was a time I giggled and played. So naive and innocent-like. The ways of my world were creative and plentiful. No friend too-true. No love too-real. Every emotion felt with every fiber of your being. Every cell in your heart believed, loved, trusted. But of course, as naive goes, taking a left turn before the hurricane often subsides to impulse. Life is grand. The world is your oyster. If someone had told me not to keep going straight, how would this all be different? Pushing on is a great defense. Plugging away to make it to the promise land. Well, is this the life?
In this life I live I am told that I am wrong everyday. Fighting the impulse to prove it incorrect, I wait for the time when everyone figures out that I was right afterall. Sailing through the days. Weaving between obstacles. My secret weapon is my heart. Facing dangers and battling influences. Remembering the days of living more carelessly. When everything didn't matter so much. Today and the first half of tomorrow were all that was on the horizon. Drinking dinner and pouring breakfast from a box. Those were the days.
Prior to school-age, we had so much fun. Living our summers like hippies. Running around in bathing suits, little boy undies, still wet from lake water. Mid-afternoon paddles on long boards in an ocean too flat to surf. Kids learning to walk so they could run through the sprinkler...potty training in the back yard...Yes. I remember how I was. So free to think. To just love my boys. Lathering on suntan oil as the little balls of giggles dug in the sand box was the most peaceful feeling I recall of our summers. Roasting myself in the heat and soaking in the rest. This was all before they learned to argue. Aaaahhh those were the days...
Somewhere along the line, life got serious. Maybe a wrong right turn, or a missed stop. I probably should have stopped and asked for directions somewhere a few years back. In lieu of the current crisis, I am reminded that this is a test. Perseverance is my other middle name. Days flashing before my eyes, I take notes for the next test. Wait! Stop!! Hold-On! Can I please just slow down!? The brake is on the left right? Or was it on the right? This is about the time I wake up. Reminding myself: "This is the work part of my life." Making future-altering decisions daily. Planning for the seemingly unobtainable future. I use to be waaayyy more fun. Yep...those were the days!
Last night we went to dinner for my dad's birthday. Amongst the attendees were nay-sayers and negative forces in my life. I was the one that knew the correct chronological age that he was. His actual years were demonstrated after the dinner! Situation being what it was, there was not a lot of room in our bank account for extravagance. So, I chose to for-go my usual with a hearty glass of red wine. Petite Syrah to be exact. I have never done that. It felt good. Generally I am the one driving home...oooo fun. The attendees passed around the baby. My middle son roamed freely before settling in with a friend to color on napkins. I figured out how to breath in public again. It's been a while. Welcome back! Last night was the night.
Whatever tomorrow has to bring I will wait and see. It's out of my control, so I will stop trying to be so damn perfect and lovely and perky and tame. With the sunroof open and whistling wind, I will not pin up my hair nor will I speak what I should say. However, I will speak the words which first hit my tongue and smile like the wild spirit I am. For today is just here as part of my way to tell all the people to just go away. Leave me be. I have what I need. Living on hugs and kisses, giggles and smiles makes my heart dance and this hair fly in the wind! So, when you think to correct me or interject when I speak, just remember I don't mind if I seem wrong or politically incorrect. I am what I am. Leave it that way.
In this life I live I am told that I am wrong everyday. Fighting the impulse to prove it incorrect, I wait for the time when everyone figures out that I was right afterall. Sailing through the days. Weaving between obstacles. My secret weapon is my heart. Facing dangers and battling influences. Remembering the days of living more carelessly. When everything didn't matter so much. Today and the first half of tomorrow were all that was on the horizon. Drinking dinner and pouring breakfast from a box. Those were the days.
Prior to school-age, we had so much fun. Living our summers like hippies. Running around in bathing suits, little boy undies, still wet from lake water. Mid-afternoon paddles on long boards in an ocean too flat to surf. Kids learning to walk so they could run through the sprinkler...potty training in the back yard...Yes. I remember how I was. So free to think. To just love my boys. Lathering on suntan oil as the little balls of giggles dug in the sand box was the most peaceful feeling I recall of our summers. Roasting myself in the heat and soaking in the rest. This was all before they learned to argue. Aaaahhh those were the days...
Somewhere along the line, life got serious. Maybe a wrong right turn, or a missed stop. I probably should have stopped and asked for directions somewhere a few years back. In lieu of the current crisis, I am reminded that this is a test. Perseverance is my other middle name. Days flashing before my eyes, I take notes for the next test. Wait! Stop!! Hold-On! Can I please just slow down!? The brake is on the left right? Or was it on the right? This is about the time I wake up. Reminding myself: "This is the work part of my life." Making future-altering decisions daily. Planning for the seemingly unobtainable future. I use to be waaayyy more fun. Yep...those were the days!
Last night we went to dinner for my dad's birthday. Amongst the attendees were nay-sayers and negative forces in my life. I was the one that knew the correct chronological age that he was. His actual years were demonstrated after the dinner! Situation being what it was, there was not a lot of room in our bank account for extravagance. So, I chose to for-go my usual with a hearty glass of red wine. Petite Syrah to be exact. I have never done that. It felt good. Generally I am the one driving home...oooo fun. The attendees passed around the baby. My middle son roamed freely before settling in with a friend to color on napkins. I figured out how to breath in public again. It's been a while. Welcome back! Last night was the night.
Whatever tomorrow has to bring I will wait and see. It's out of my control, so I will stop trying to be so damn perfect and lovely and perky and tame. With the sunroof open and whistling wind, I will not pin up my hair nor will I speak what I should say. However, I will speak the words which first hit my tongue and smile like the wild spirit I am. For today is just here as part of my way to tell all the people to just go away. Leave me be. I have what I need. Living on hugs and kisses, giggles and smiles makes my heart dance and this hair fly in the wind! So, when you think to correct me or interject when I speak, just remember I don't mind if I seem wrong or politically incorrect. I am what I am. Leave it that way.
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