Over the past few weeks, Jake and I have had several experiences that are leading me to believe that possibly my children's behavioral problems are made worse by society. While I spend much of my life trying to teach my children that they are not entitled to everything they want, those around me seem determined to thwart my efforts.
Take yesterday, for example. After a trip to the museum, Jake and I decided to take them out to eat. Really "out to eat", as in, actually eating inside an dining establishment. Typically, if we "eat out" we lean towards drive-thrus and take-out. Seriously, would you want to eat in public with my kids? Anyway, we certainly didn't choose anywhere super-nice to eat, just a hot dog shop on Marquette's campus. Baby steps. Maybe if a few times a year I take them somewhere like that, they can learn to act like real people when eating out by the time they're 15.
Anyway, so here's where it gets good. We make it into the store, help the kids decide what to order (big decision, corny dog or hot dog) and get them settled at a table. Thankfully, school is almost out and the place was quiet. After ordering, Brooklyn began to whine about wanting chips. We tried to explain that we didn't choose chips today...we had delicious hot dogs...normal parent stuff. The guy behind the counter began holding up a bag of chips for her as we spoke. Yeah, he gave 'em to her, as if the only thing holding us back from giving her chips was the dollar we would have to pay for them. Then, I went to fill up their drinks. Because water is less sticky than root beer, I had chosen to get them water to drink. As I began to fill their cups, again, Brooklyn started in on the whining, wanting soda. Before I could tell her no, the guy behind the counter said, "c'mon, they can have whatever they want!" Arggg! Lastly, as we were leaving, Ty started in on the chips again, he wanted more, or a different variety, or some crazy demand. Jake and I glared at our new friend, and kindly, but firmly, said "no chips". He went behind the counter and picked up a plate of homemade muffins and presented each of my greedy children with one! So undermining...but so "nice". What's a parent to do?
A similar thing happened a few weeks ago. Jake was at Kinkos with Brooklyn and Ty. He had to print off something for school. He had told the kids that IF they were good THEN he would buy a candy for them. They were NOT good, and as he was checking out, they were both sobbing about the loss of their treat and making promises of future goodness. He stuck to his word and didn't buy them candy. Then, the lady working there handed them a candy bar and told Jake that she wanted to buy it for them. She felt bad for them, listening to them cry. Hey lady, are you going to feel bad for them, when they become juvenile delinquents? Will you send them candy in jail? Sigh. I think it has something to do with bleeding heart college-age kids; who have no idea how much they are corrupting my kids. Good thing that the majority of my time is spent places where either I am surrounded by understanding moms (who know better than to never intervene, other than maybe to give ME a candy bar to help ME cope); and older people, who are infamous for unsolicited advice and dirty looks when my kids misbehave. Hey, I'll take it, over indulging my kids!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Bottom-Tier Friends -- Not Card-Worthy
I'm in a quandary this holiday season. One of my favorite holiday traditions is giving and receiving Christmas cards. I have a "special" place where I put all of them up; I can see them regularly and I am reminded of how blessed I am with beloved family and friends across the country. Everyone has their own set of "rules" regarding Christmas cards. Some people, send them to everyone. Some people (like myself) send them to friends and family who are not "close". ("Close" is somewhat relative, as I send cards to members of my church congregation in West Bend Wisconsin, only about 25 minutes away. For me, "close" friends are those that I see on a regular basis; and I make goodies for them instead of a card.) Anyway, card worthiness is certainly an issue in friendship; especially when most of us have many "friends", due to the ease of reconnecting online.
This is where I get to my peeve. I've received several email Christmas cards this year. Love ya friends, but can I say, tacky? Am I not worth the buck or so it would cost you to print and mail a card? How am I supposed to reciprocate? Do I keep you on my Christmas list, or do I create a list of bottom-tier friends for whom our relationship is strictly digital? What do I do with an email card? Am I supposed to print it out myself and put it with my other cards? What about people who have emailed me that I wasn't planning to mail? Is it the same as when I get an unexpected card in the mail and then reciprocate? Do I just hit "reply"? There are no easy answers, although if you get a digital card, you will know that you have been put on my "bottom-tier" list. Am I off on this, or does doing a digital card ruin all of the fun? I just can't help but ask myself, "did they send cards to their 'better' friends?"
This is where I get to my peeve. I've received several email Christmas cards this year. Love ya friends, but can I say, tacky? Am I not worth the buck or so it would cost you to print and mail a card? How am I supposed to reciprocate? Do I keep you on my Christmas list, or do I create a list of bottom-tier friends for whom our relationship is strictly digital? What do I do with an email card? Am I supposed to print it out myself and put it with my other cards? What about people who have emailed me that I wasn't planning to mail? Is it the same as when I get an unexpected card in the mail and then reciprocate? Do I just hit "reply"? There are no easy answers, although if you get a digital card, you will know that you have been put on my "bottom-tier" list. Am I off on this, or does doing a digital card ruin all of the fun? I just can't help but ask myself, "did they send cards to their 'better' friends?"
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Hooray for a New Week!!!
So, to say the least, last week wasn't really the best. When I saw my OB on Friday, he asked me how I was doing (emotionally). It was hard to get a real clear picture of how I'm doing. Yes, I did spend a good part of my week with tears; but a good part of my week was just not so peachy.
On Wednesday, Brooklyn has "early release" and gets out of school one hour early. That day, I went at my regular time to pick her up, and I immediately knew something was amiss when I got to the school and I didn't have to run over anyone to find a place to park. I realized what I had done, and rushed into the office of the school to find Brooklyn. The secretary was useless, and said that any kids that don't get picked up go to the lunchroom. I have a daughter in junior kindergarten, she doesn't even eat lunch, I don't know where the lunchroom is. She rolled her eyes and explained it to me. When I got there, Brooklyn wasn't there either. Panic set in at that point. Another teacher told me some kids had been sent to yet another room. Thankfully, it was there that I found Brooklyn and she was with a teacher's aide that I know from her classroom. Of course, the combination of stress, relief, embarrassment, joy, stupidity, and anger (why didn't someone CALL me?) collided and I burst into tears. Fortunately, Brooklyn was the bigger person in the situation, and she was fine.
The next day, as I was dropping her off for school, I stepped out to help her out of the car and onto the sidewalk. I left Sadie and Ty in the car, it was still running (after all, I was just stepping out). Anyway, the doors locked behind me; with kids, purse, cell phone, and keys all locked in the car. Again, the tears came rolling in and I borrowed a cell phone to call Jake. Jake being the smart one between the two of us (and the smart alec) pointed out that I could instruct Ty how to unlock the doors. After a few minutes of screaming and gesturing in sub zero temps, I was back inside my warm car with my kiddos.
Then, here's the kicker, and absolute salute to my stupdity/bad week. On Saturday morning, I was making oatmeal. I took it (piping hot) out of the microwave, and sat it on the counter. It fell off of the counter and the oatmeal landed on my foot. Of course, I got serious burns all over my foot. It was incredible pain. I'm not a screamer, but I was screaming trying to get the oatmeal off. We didn't want to have to go to the doctor, mainly because I hate it when they say, "yeah dummy, your burnt your foot, keep cool compresses on it...take a few tylenol..etc". Often, a doctors advice is not worth paying for. Anyway, we were putting cool compresses on it and it was still killing me. About an hour later, I was trying to relax in a recliner, and I started to feel faint and nauseated; then I blacked out. Jake at that point decided to take me to the ER. On the way, I continued to feel awful, and managed to throw up all over myself...so embarrassing when I went to the ER.
They treated my burn in the ER, and fortunately were able to give me fluids, meds for nausea, and meds for pain (and a tetanus shot too...ouch...still hurts today). After treating my burn (all they could do was get me out of pain and put on antibiotic cream and bandages...they supposedly have awesome burn cream, but they can't give it to pregnant ladies)...they did an EKG and checked my vitals to see if they could see why I blacked out. Then, I had to go up to their Labor and Delivery unit to have the baby monitored for a few hours (he was fine). In the end, they think that I blacked out for two reasons: one, sheer pain; two, the position I was sitting in may have put the baby on one of my veins and temporarily blocked bloodflow to my brains.
What a story! It's not funny yet, but I'm sure it will be someday. The best question of the day (from the ER doc): "Were you wearing shoes when this happened?" (Duh dude, check out those second-degree burns covering the top of my foot...whaddya think?). He then replied, "You probably would not have been burned so badly if you had been wearing shoes" (Thanks man, you rock. Did you have to go to med school to dispense awesome advice like that? I somehow missed that on the package of oatmeal I was preparing that I should have protective footwear)
Fortunately, I'm getting better (me and my prescription pain killers). I'm hoping for the best this week. On a happy note, I heard a Christmas song this morning that really put me in tune with the season, and maybe took out some of my frustration from last week. After all, last year, it was on December 19 (one day before my 30th birthday, 6 days before Christmas) that I experienced a miscarriage. The song "Where are you Christmas?" really hit home for me last year; as I had a hard time finding joy in the holiday when I was in so much physical and emotional pain. When I heard that song again today, my kids were somewhat happily eating lunch together, and the pains and aches of pregnancy and burns seemed somehow insignificant. Christmas is here.
On Wednesday, Brooklyn has "early release" and gets out of school one hour early. That day, I went at my regular time to pick her up, and I immediately knew something was amiss when I got to the school and I didn't have to run over anyone to find a place to park. I realized what I had done, and rushed into the office of the school to find Brooklyn. The secretary was useless, and said that any kids that don't get picked up go to the lunchroom. I have a daughter in junior kindergarten, she doesn't even eat lunch, I don't know where the lunchroom is. She rolled her eyes and explained it to me. When I got there, Brooklyn wasn't there either. Panic set in at that point. Another teacher told me some kids had been sent to yet another room. Thankfully, it was there that I found Brooklyn and she was with a teacher's aide that I know from her classroom. Of course, the combination of stress, relief, embarrassment, joy, stupidity, and anger (why didn't someone CALL me?) collided and I burst into tears. Fortunately, Brooklyn was the bigger person in the situation, and she was fine.
The next day, as I was dropping her off for school, I stepped out to help her out of the car and onto the sidewalk. I left Sadie and Ty in the car, it was still running (after all, I was just stepping out). Anyway, the doors locked behind me; with kids, purse, cell phone, and keys all locked in the car. Again, the tears came rolling in and I borrowed a cell phone to call Jake. Jake being the smart one between the two of us (and the smart alec) pointed out that I could instruct Ty how to unlock the doors. After a few minutes of screaming and gesturing in sub zero temps, I was back inside my warm car with my kiddos.
Then, here's the kicker, and absolute salute to my stupdity/bad week. On Saturday morning, I was making oatmeal. I took it (piping hot) out of the microwave, and sat it on the counter. It fell off of the counter and the oatmeal landed on my foot. Of course, I got serious burns all over my foot. It was incredible pain. I'm not a screamer, but I was screaming trying to get the oatmeal off. We didn't want to have to go to the doctor, mainly because I hate it when they say, "yeah dummy, your burnt your foot, keep cool compresses on it...take a few tylenol..etc". Often, a doctors advice is not worth paying for. Anyway, we were putting cool compresses on it and it was still killing me. About an hour later, I was trying to relax in a recliner, and I started to feel faint and nauseated; then I blacked out. Jake at that point decided to take me to the ER. On the way, I continued to feel awful, and managed to throw up all over myself...so embarrassing when I went to the ER.
They treated my burn in the ER, and fortunately were able to give me fluids, meds for nausea, and meds for pain (and a tetanus shot too...ouch...still hurts today). After treating my burn (all they could do was get me out of pain and put on antibiotic cream and bandages...they supposedly have awesome burn cream, but they can't give it to pregnant ladies)...they did an EKG and checked my vitals to see if they could see why I blacked out. Then, I had to go up to their Labor and Delivery unit to have the baby monitored for a few hours (he was fine). In the end, they think that I blacked out for two reasons: one, sheer pain; two, the position I was sitting in may have put the baby on one of my veins and temporarily blocked bloodflow to my brains.
What a story! It's not funny yet, but I'm sure it will be someday. The best question of the day (from the ER doc): "Were you wearing shoes when this happened?" (Duh dude, check out those second-degree burns covering the top of my foot...whaddya think?). He then replied, "You probably would not have been burned so badly if you had been wearing shoes" (Thanks man, you rock. Did you have to go to med school to dispense awesome advice like that? I somehow missed that on the package of oatmeal I was preparing that I should have protective footwear)
Fortunately, I'm getting better (me and my prescription pain killers). I'm hoping for the best this week. On a happy note, I heard a Christmas song this morning that really put me in tune with the season, and maybe took out some of my frustration from last week. After all, last year, it was on December 19 (one day before my 30th birthday, 6 days before Christmas) that I experienced a miscarriage. The song "Where are you Christmas?" really hit home for me last year; as I had a hard time finding joy in the holiday when I was in so much physical and emotional pain. When I heard that song again today, my kids were somewhat happily eating lunch together, and the pains and aches of pregnancy and burns seemed somehow insignificant. Christmas is here.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
My Husband's Son
You know when you were a kid, and you misbehaved, and your mom used to say "I hope, one day, when you grow up, that you will have a child JUST LIKE YOU!" Let me just say, in all fairness, this is not a fair statement for mothers to make to SONS. For one day, it will not be your son that will pay the price of your curse, but your sweet daughter-in-law (yeah, the one who willingly took that son off of your hands). I just happen to know someone who is currently bemoaning her current situation, in having to raise a child that is just like her husband.
Today, as I was working on fixing dinner, Brooklyn and Ty were behind me in the dining room. Brooklyn said, "Mom, Ty is playing with the knives! (butter knives, thankfully). Ty then said "No Mom, I'm playing my violin!" As I turned around to confiscant the knives, he was standing with two knives in hand. His eyes were quietly closed and his head was cocked, as he was carefully drawing one knife upon the other, as a bow upon a string. I can't laugh, it will just make it worse!
Today, as I was working on fixing dinner, Brooklyn and Ty were behind me in the dining room. Brooklyn said, "Mom, Ty is playing with the knives! (butter knives, thankfully). Ty then said "No Mom, I'm playing my violin!" As I turned around to confiscant the knives, he was standing with two knives in hand. His eyes were quietly closed and his head was cocked, as he was carefully drawing one knife upon the other, as a bow upon a string. I can't laugh, it will just make it worse!
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Pushing Excuses
I'm able to attest to the fact that some behaviors (such as pushing and hitting) must be nature, not nurture. Despite my best parenting attempts, my kids often are use brute force to express themselves, and sometimes, I'm not even sure they're expressing any deep emotions or opinions, but maybe just knowing how good it feels to have some power.
At any rate, I've heard some fabulous excuses this weekend for pushing.
Yesterday, Brooklyn pushed Ty and said: "I wasn't pushing him, I just went through him!" She was emphatic about the difference and positive that her argument was sound.
Today, Ty was standing at the top of the stairs with Sadie and pushed her. I'm seriously paranoid about one of the kids getting pushed down my long flight of hardwood stairs, so I immediately reprimanded him. He then replied, "I wasn't pushing her, I was strapping a rocket on her back". Seriously? He almost had to be to come up with something so creative.
At least Ty and Brooklyn make excuses, trying to cover up misdeeds. Sadie, on the other hand, is 23 1/2 pounds of pure attitude. She pushes everyone, including Jake and I, much more often than any of the other kids. She doesn't make excuses, she never denies it, but confesses as if she were fully justified. What's a mom to do? I'm thinking about pushing back a bit!
At any rate, I've heard some fabulous excuses this weekend for pushing.
Yesterday, Brooklyn pushed Ty and said: "I wasn't pushing him, I just went through him!" She was emphatic about the difference and positive that her argument was sound.
Today, Ty was standing at the top of the stairs with Sadie and pushed her. I'm seriously paranoid about one of the kids getting pushed down my long flight of hardwood stairs, so I immediately reprimanded him. He then replied, "I wasn't pushing her, I was strapping a rocket on her back". Seriously? He almost had to be to come up with something so creative.
At least Ty and Brooklyn make excuses, trying to cover up misdeeds. Sadie, on the other hand, is 23 1/2 pounds of pure attitude. She pushes everyone, including Jake and I, much more often than any of the other kids. She doesn't make excuses, she never denies it, but confesses as if she were fully justified. What's a mom to do? I'm thinking about pushing back a bit!
Friday, November 20, 2009
Useful Information
For those of you who live here in Milwaukee, be it known that not making a full and complete stop when turning right at a red light WILL get you pulled over. I learned so last night. I was lost, trying to get to a restaurant in the Third Ward. The officer was at the intersection, I totally saw him; but I didn't think about making a rolling stop to turn right at the light. I was lost, and more focused on looking at street signs and figuring out where to go than making a complete stop. Honestly, when those lights started flashing in my rear view, I didn't even know why I was getting pulled over. Fortunately, the office was very kind; offered me only a warning and gave even me directions (then followed me most of the way there, I don't know if he was concerned about me or just checking my story). He simply asked why I did what I did, I tried my best to look pathetic and lost (sticking out my pregnant belly as much as possible). Off the hook! (And no ladies, I didn't even have to resort to crying) Drivers beware and be careful!
Like Mother, Like Daughter, and so it goes
I've been a rotten blogger lately, but I did want to post something of note that made me laugh. Brooklyn's b-day was a few weeks ago; and she was supposed to take birthday treats to her school class. After contemplating letting the grocery store bakery make our goodies for me, I guilted myself into feeling like a "good mom" would make homemade goodies. So, I referred to one of my wonderful friends (Google) to try to come up with some fun, simple cupcake ideas. I won't go into boring details, but I spent way too much valuable time planning cupcakes for a 5-year old to take to Junior Kindergarten. After I completed my cupcakes (which did end up being adorable (and very simple) thanks to butterfly shaped gummies that I found at my local grocery), I called my Mom to tell her. After all, I remember when I was young, my mom often stressed about what for me to take to my class (yes, I remember this, maybe it had something to do with having a birthday 5 days before Christmas). Anyway, I related to her how funny I thought it was that she always stressed about silly b-day treats; and now I was stressing. She then related to me a story about my Grandma's mother, regarding the same thing. As the story goes, my great-grandma was up all night, burning batch after batch of candies on a wood stove for my grandma to take to her school class. It's hilarious to me to see the commonalities of women of all generations. Gluttons for punishment we are, and it's apparently either genetic or a trait that follow the female sex in general. Next time I pull an all-nighter for the sake of being a "good" mom/wife/friend/church member/nut case/perfectionist/over-achiever; I will remember that I am in good company and that it's nothing new!
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