The Road to Hell

June 22nd, 2009

It’s paved with something.  I forget what.  In still more evidence of the Big Ideas and the Real Life thing, a snippet directly from my mind, as you would have seen it a mere three weeks ago:

I’ll blog this summer. You know - when I’m home with the kids - it’ll be easy this year …  Because I’ll be home, and they’re bigger now and can entertain themselves.  Yep,  I’ll blog, and I’ll mow, of course.  No need to pay the neighbor kid, seeing as how I’ll be home anyway.  I’ll plant some flowers, that’ll be nice.  I’ll catch up on my reading.  I’ll have to fit some work in, of course, so I’ll prep for my new seminar course while the kids play in the sprinkler.  I’ll plan that presentation I have to give in September during their down time.    I’ll clean out the basement and reorganize all the family photos.  Maybe I’ll paint that upstairs bathroom.  I won’t give up summer fun, though, I’ll make the kids some new playlists and share them on the internet.  I’ll definitely have time to start working on that book. 

In reality it looks more like this:

Mow before it rains.  Turn on sprinkler.  Break up fight over which sprinkler is better.  Turn off sprinkler.  Go in the house.  Break up fight over Mickey Mouse v. Spongebob v. iCarly.  Get kids away from house before they destroy it.  Arrive at library.  Turn away from children to choose book.  Hear crashing noise.  Discover downed library shelf at feet of 4 yob.  Assist librarian with putting it back up.  Break up fight over who gets to run the check out machine.  Get kids away from library before they destroy it. Arrive at playground.  Sit down with book.  Read three lines.  Lose one kid.  Shut book.  Find kid.  Live in fear of removing eyes from children again.  Apply sunscreen. Break up fight over who won the race to the bottom of the slide.  Administer first aid and put Spongebob band-aid on place where 7yob insists there is a wound, though I can’t see the wound.  Get kids away from park before they destroy themselves.  Rain coming.  Head home.  Make dinner.  See previous post re dinner.  Put kids to bed.  Take out computer.  Realize haven’t seen husband all day.  Turn off computer.  Discuss children.  Watch weather.  Fall into bed.   Toss and turn thinking “Holy Crap, that seminar class starts in two months!”

  | Posted in » Everything Else | Track by Leo

Songs About Guys Named Jo[h]n/ny

June 11th, 2009

Not too long ago we made the family trek to Nickelodeon Universe, and I observed that being the youngest of three kids must … well, kind of suck sometimes.  Our little guy was about an inch too short for most of the rides his siblings could go on.  This led to choruses of “Sorry, buddy, you’re too little for this.”  Followed by huge tantrums.  Followed by choruses of “You are WAY too big to act like that.”  Talk about a confusing message.

Anyway, it’s only a little something, but I decided that next week we’d do another, long overdue Mixtape Monday, only this time we’d focus on my number 3, with songs all about guys named Jo[h]nny, a project I’ve been thinking of, but haven’t been able to complete.  I tried to do a quick lyrics search, but this one is a little tricky because most of the lyrics sites include writing credit with the lyrics, so I get a lot of hits on songs BY people named Johnny.

A quick review of my own iTunes turned up: Mysterious Ways, Johnny B. Goode, and Bad Company’s Shooting Star, and, of course, no list of Johnnys would be complete without the famous fiddler from The Devil Went Down to Georgia.    So, help a mommy out … can you add some?

  | Posted in » Mixtape Monday | Track by Leo

The Whirligig of Time Has Its Revenge.

June 9th, 2009

Last night, serving dinner, I realized the exact moment I went wrong.  As I placed dinner on the table, just as one of my kids started howling about the meal choice, total recognition set in.   Now that 7.5 has discontinued frozen pizza and 4 balks at the frozen chicken nugget, I’ve run out options that please all three.  As the dinner hour approaches I brace myself for the inevitable question. “What’s for dinner?”  they ask, pleasantly.  I steel myself and respond, waiting for one of them to suck breath and begin the wail.  I brought the problem on myself, of course, back in ‘98.  Three years before my first kid was even born.

I’d been married about a year at the time.  I’m not alone, by the way. You did it too.  We all did.  Before we knew.  Caught up in our own stubborn, silly, unsubstantiated certainty, the kind of certainty that thrives only in complete ignorance, we rolled our eyes; we scoffed and muttered.   When parenting was still the fantasy, the imagined-child was still fantastic, and we harbored no parenting guilt or secrets, it was easy to criticize.    After all, *no kid of mine* would ever [fill-in-the-blank], and even if they did, Future Parent Me would never stand for it.

Growing up at my house, we believed in karma, destiny, and superstition.  We knocked on wood.  We  threw salt over our shoulders.  We used humble introductory phrases like “I’m  no expert, but” “Or, take this for what it’s worth.”   We self-protected.  If only I’d been a little smarter that summer day in 1998 driving through North Dakota, I might have protected my karma.  I might have thrown in an “I don’t know how it will go for me.” 

We were headed to a bridal shower for a long time friend of the family.  I rode in the back with my husband’s brother’s wife-to-be, Michelle.  In the front seat, my mother-in-law and her daughter, Susie, youngest of her three kids, youngest of her three picky eaters.  “What will there be to eat?” Susie asked.  “It’s a bridal luncheon in North Dakota,” we responded “what won’t there be to eat?”  “I don’t think I’ll like anything,” said S. “You’re right,” responded my mother-in-law, as she pulled up at the nearest Burger King.

Michelle and I rolled our eyes in the backseat.  We’d had this conversation before. Of course they’re picky eaters, we’d commented more than once of our significant others.  Obviously, we observed, it’s directly attributable to their mother for feeding them three different meals. ** We reached our destination and hung back on the way in. “I’ll tell you one thing,” I spit to Michelle, vehemently.  ”MY kids are going to eat what they’re served.”  “No kidding,” she agreed.  “No kidding.”  We congratulated ourselves on our superb parenting skills as we loaded up our plates with noodle salad.

“Stop howling,” I demand now, ten years later, as my brood whines and complains their way to the dinner table.  “Don’t throw your head on the table.  This is what’s for dinner,”  I’ll command at first.  But, within the hour I’ll be serving up an additional side of buttered toast and an apple.  Oh, I know what all the experts say.  Judge me if you will … but if I were you, I’d be cautious how you phrase it.

So, how about you?  Fill in your blank.  What is it that no kid of yours was ever going to get away with?! 

** Belated and sincere apologies to my lovely, wonderful mother-in-law, whose oldest grandson insists that she makes the best buttered toast this side of the Mississippi.

  | Posted in » Everything Else | Track by Leo

Collect Your Reward

June 8th, 2009

Last Friday I promised to provide you a link to a relatively new, awesome website.  Before I do that, let me just ask - do you sometimes feel like you should get a reward for just completing your required daily tasks? Check?  Good, me too.   Are you somewhere between the ages of 14 and 110? Check?  Good.  Do you like to save money? Check?  Good.  Do you enjoy reading thoughtful essays and thought-provoking blog posts? Well, you are here schlepping around the blogosphere in a search for some kind of content aren’t you! :)  Ok good.  Now, you need to go pay a visit to Stage of Life.  It’s easier for me to use their own words to describe the place:

Our Mission is Three-Fold:

1) Help people find answers and make decisions in matters large and small, at every juncture in life.
2) Provide our users savings and other financial benefits ranging from saving notices, coupons, and discounts tailored to each specific stage of life - in essence, giving you Rewards for Life’s Journey.™
3) Support charities with contributions from the revenue of the company.  5% of our gross revenue goes to charity.

They’re not exaggerating, and these are not dinky little savings, we’re talking about good deals.  (For example, my favorite, obviously, is the $5 off every single time you spend $50 at the Big Red Store online.) Plus, it solves another problem I find when I’m surfing for blogs … content applicable to people no matter where they’re at in life’s journey.

It’s good stuff.  Go sign up. Then check back in on occasion and you might even find a post or two from me, a recent addition to the Stage of Life blogging pool. 

  | Posted in » Everything Else | Track by Leo

Blame God.

June 5th, 2009

On this, our first day of official summer vacation, I bring you - Two random KidSpeaks and a pledge to blog my first summer as a card-carrying college Professor working from home with  kids.   If you’ve been wondering about content, thanks for caring.   I’m giving it a go.

Tune in Monday for some exciting news and the most FABULOUS place on the internet you haven’t found yet.  Really, you can hardly wait, right?  (Reminds me of that joke Ellen makes about the news teasers, about halfway through this funny clip.)

Kidspeak 1
Me to Jon, Age 4, fka “Kong“: You sure are grouchy today.  Why are you so grouchy?

Jon:  I can’t help it.  That’s just the way God made me.

Kidspeak 2
While checking out a wedding picture of me and Hubs, the same observant child noted that:  “Daddy looks the same, but Mommy looks different.”  I inquired, “how so?”

Apparently, in the photo “Mommy’s face is oval.”  But now, “it’s more round shaped.”  I’m so glad he’s learned his shapes so well.

  | Posted in » Kid Speak | Track by Leo

Iron Mom?

February 12th, 2009

Reading Margaret Atwood’s Cat’s Eye last night, I came upon the following striking line:

“Because I am a mother, I am capable of being shocked: as I never was when I was not one.”

 The passage itself, and in the context of the protaganist grappling with her own personal history, conveys a concept I struggle with a lot:  How do we juxtapose our personal identity and worldview with the Job of Mom?   

For me, becoming a mother was like putting on a robotic helmet - envision Iron Man or Terminator.  I see the world as I normally would, but now with extras: facts and information  in digital red lettering springing  up in my peripheral vision  “DANGER” “UNSAFE” “OFFENSIVE”.
Read the rest of this entry »

  | Posted in » Job of Mom, The Fretting Feminist | Track by Leo