Monday, September 30, 2013

Shut Up and Get in the Car!

Over the summer we spent four weekends away from home. Each trip was met with pretty good levels of success with a couple of little blips on the sleep schedule that can be more readily attributed to teething and growth spurts than to being in a different house. The kids are crawling so arriving anywhere involves an immediate sweep through the residence to put breakables, and pet food, out of reach.

It was such a relief to have these trips go well because packing for them was insane. I honestly had no idea what it took to get a family of four packed up and on the road. One night away or three, didn't matter the amount of stuff that we needed was nothing short of crazy!

When I was  child my grandparents owned a farm in Chesapeake City, MD on the Bohemia River. We would spend a week or two at "the farm" every summer. To us kids, the farm was nothing short of heaven. Acres of cornfields that led down to the woods through which one had to travel to get to the boat house and the Bohemia River. There was old barn that housed a big beautiful owl, multiple out-buildings for exploring and a tractor and trailer that was used, among other things, to tow us kids around the property.

Depending on the time of day, you could walk forever before actually getting to the water if the tide was out. There was no shortage of rocks to look under, shells to collect and snakes to catch. If you were willing to sit quietly for long enough the deer would just about walk over you and woodchucks were abundant. Legend has it that my grandfather's dog even chased one up a tree.

The house was three stories tall with a central bannister that was sturdy enough to slide down from the very top all the way to the bottom, which we did every day. I don't think I ever actually walked down the stairs. I mean really, why would I? There was a banister. The front porch had the best swing imaginable. Napping on that thing was pretty commonplace.

The farm was such a great place! As a kid I could never understand why my parents weren't as excited about going there as we were...until now. I had no appreciation for the work that went into packing up a family for vacation.

Not only did mom have to do the laundry and pack for all five of us but she had to go to the grocery store, with us three in tow, to stock up on food for the week or two that we were going to be there. Dad would arrive home from work and pack the car or begin first thing the following morning while we all had breakfast. The last thing to be loaded was the dogs, one of whom would inevitably barf in the way-back of the station wagon.

Just before we got in the car the bathroom, "but I don't have to go!" battle would begin. We were instructed just to try sitting on the potty to see if maybe there was something that would come out. Then there was the seatbelt fight. My dad worked in the insurance industry. I'm pretty sure we were the only family whose children wore seat-belts in the early 70s.

The stress of getting the family ready for vacation had to be almost overwhelming!

The drive wasn't much more enjoyable either. True to form, my little sister would pass out as we backed out of the driveway. My brother and I would proceed to play volleyball with her head for as much of the trip as we could until one of us would bounce her head a little too hard, she would cry and the fights would begin.

We had a country squire station wagon with vinyl seats and no AC. Air conditioning then was 4/60: four windows down at 60 mph. If we were lucky our parents would angle the little triangular window on the door toward the back so that the breeze would really blow.

There was almost always a chorus of she's/he's touching me followed by my dad shouting, "don't make me pull this car over!" If we kicked the back of his seat or pushed our knees into the back of his seat he would perform the most amazing contortionist act where his arm would come over the seat and his vice-like hand would get ahold of the top out our knee. If you saw it coming you could try to squirm out of the way; however, remember - we wore seat belts, avoiding his grip was really almost impossible.

I distinctly recall asking every parent's most dreaded question: "Are we there yet?"

Why they never left us on the side of the road is beyond me!

Packing for two adults and two infants is no less insane. I can't get over the amount of stuff that we need just to go away for the night: two pack-n-plays, two booster seats, a double stroller, baby food, toys, clothing, blankets, diapers, wipes, spoons, bowls and a bib for each boy for each meal.

Loading the car is akin to assembling a 3D jigsaw puzzle. Put one item in the wrong place and the rest will not fit. Packing, loading and driving all needs to be coordinated so that feeding can commence upon arrival and doesn't interrupt what little nap schedule they have.

Comparatively, right now I have it easy.

I do all of this while the kids sit in their highchairs eating Cheerios or Puffs. The do not whine about which toys to bring, they do not argue about having to go the bathroom and they don't fight with each other about who gets to sit on which side of the car.

This too shall pass. I have no doubt that the time will come where I will be just as cranky as my parents were after getting the car loaded for the family vacation and arguing about going to the potty one last time. I am absolutely certain that the day will come when I utter the words, "Shut up and get in the car!"




Thursday, September 12, 2013

Stellar Parenting Skills

"I'm so pissed off I could spit nails!" was what came out of my mouth when my friend answered her phone. I was on the way home from the cake supply store when I was passed, like I was standing still, by a woman in a green Toyota Camry and a toddler leaping around in the backseat of her car!

REALLY??? In this day and age? Who the hell doesn't buckle their kid in?

"You don't have to have an I.Q. to have children," was my friends response.

Unfortunately, she is right. Just walk into any Walmart and you will see a plethora of individuals who were standing behind the door the day brains were handed out!

Anyway, prior to calling my bestie, I had called 911 to report the Camry owner's threat to her children. There were in fact two children in the backseat. She'll probably have some lame-ass excuse for not having the kid buckled in like, "he just screams when he's in his seat." Well quite frankly, a screaming baby is much better than a dead one in my book but what the hell do I know?

If her excuse is that she can't afford one then maybe she could quit smoking. Yes, she was smoking, with the kids in the car. Just a glowing example of stellar parenting skills here. A car seat at Walmart, where I'm sure she already spends a significant amount of time, is $78. Cigarettes in the great state of Delaware where her car is licensed, are $6 per pack. That's only 13 days off the coffin nails to protect her kid. Besides she shouldn't be smoking around them anyway!

The 911 operator said she would contact the state police and that I should stop following her, which I did. I have my own wonderful kids to worry about. Besides I only followed her to get her license plate number.

Speaking of Walmart, I was kidless the other day and stopped in quickly to grab a couple of staples that we had run out of. When I only have two or three items I usually go through the self checkout aisles. There is always someone at one of those things with a cart chock-full of crap and has no idea what they are doing as was the case that day. To make it even worse, she had one of the most OBNOXIOUS children with her that I have had the displeasure to be around in quite some time. This in itself is a bit of an accomplishment as I tend to go to Walmart pretty regularly.

The mother was trying to run items through the scanner and the little girl wanted to be in charge of which items were put through. Doesn't sound too bad right? Yeah well you couldn't be more wrong! The child screamed at the top of her lungs each time the "wrong" item was put through. The mother did nothing!!! Not a "shhhh," "stop," or "No" was uttered from her lips. She just proceeded on as if nothing was wrong. Not so much for the rest of us. The employees, the other customers and I stood gape-mouthed staring at this spectacle.

"Not my children," was the thought that played through my mind with each obnoxious scream.

Granted the twins are only 10 months old but I would never, and I do mean never, tolerate that type of behavior. I don't even tolerate it now and yes 10 month old boys have tempers and throw temper tantrums. When they do they are removed from whatever they are doing and put in the playpen, crib or have their highchair turned around to face the wall. I have no intention of waiting until they are older to begin disciplining them.

They are learning the word No and are praised when they respond properly. One trip out in public tells me that my hubby and I are the minority when it comes to disciplining our kids.

I watched a young teenager tell her mother to "shut up!" in a store the other day. I can't even imagine what life would have been like upon returning home had I chosen to speak to my mother like that, and in public no less!

Yup we were spanked. There is this idiotic philosophy that tells us that spanking kids breeds violence. Um...I'm pretty sure "the experts" have gotten that one wrong. If that were the case we would be a gentler society, I don't know about you, but that is definitely not my impression of things these days.

Don't get me wrong here, I DO NOT condone child abuse, but I do believer that a smack on the ass is an effective way to get their attention and let them know that they have crossed the line. I love my boys and would do anything for them and that includes helping them to become productive, respected members of society.

I will not raise leeches!

My boys will know how to cook, clean, do laundry and fend for themselves. They will do chores. They will have a good work ethic and be respectful to others.

We are their parents and if we do right by them, they will love and respect us for the lessons they have learned and for the men that they will become.

We are raising someone's future husbands.



Friday, September 6, 2013

Calm, Cool and Collected...Sometimes


I have never considered myself to be the overprotective type. Oh, I can be a momma bear when it comes to someone hurting someone I love, but I know that our kids will get boo-boos. And not all situations require 911. 

I truly believe in the concept of "boys will be boys” and fully expect to end up in the emergency room some day.

I have seen children freak out and cry when they plop down on their butts (not a cry-worthy experience as far as I am concerned) simply because their parent's overreaction. 

Not only do I not do the, "Oh my gawd, are you ok?!" over-the-top reaction; I tend to go the other way.

I laugh. 

I fear that I am warping my children.

I'm not a monster. If one if them seriously bangs their head or really falls, I give them the proper boo-boo attention that includes kissing and rocking but if we are talking about a small bonk or slight crash, when they look to me to see how they should react, I simply laugh. 

This might be having an adverse effect.

In the evenings my hubby and I each take a kid and play on the sofa. They crawl around and bounce on the pillows. Well, one night we were doing our regular bouncing routine and one of the boys face-planted into the pillows. The other one laughed...hard. 

Who knows where this will lead down the road?

Knowing that the boys will get boo-boos and having them do so are two entirely different creatures. 

Recently, while washing bottles one afternoon, I heard a weird noise in the playroom (formerly the formal living room AKA the Tea Room). I dried my hands and rounded the corner to discover that one of my boys was painting on the wall with something. Upon further inspection I discovered that it was blood! 

Holy Hell!!! 

I scooped him up and ran to the sink to wash his hand off and see where it was coming from. It seems that he had managed to stick his tiny little fingers into the air return vent for the A/C and slice the tops of his fingers.

Once washed off, I called my neighbor, a retired EMT, to come check him out. I tried desperately to be calm and explain what had happened and ended with, “CAN YOU COME CHECK HIM OUT!”

I was far from calm and now I was crying.

My son on the other hand was not crying and was simply concerned with trying to eat the paper towel that I had wrapped around his fingers.

My neighbor arrived within seconds and declared that my son was fine. The bleeding had stopped completely. The cuts were the equivalent of paper cuts. He even advised me not to put Band-Aids on his little fingers, as he would just try to chew them off and then choke on them.

Hmmm good thinking.

So much for the calm, cool, collected mom that is not overprotective and knows that her kids will get boo-boos huh? 

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Did you really just say that?!

Ok, so, let me ask the other moms out there... Does your mother give you idiotic advice or ask you ridiculous questions?

After walking through the Farmers' Market, on our way to lunch, I realized that I had forgotten to pack the boys' Cheerios. Cheerios have become a staple in our house. Sam's club sells two large boxes for $5.28. We are completely stocked up! Anyway...I paused and said that I didn't have the container of Cheerios for the boys but I would ask for oyster crackers or saltines to hold them over until we got back to the house. Her reply was, "You'll have to break them up!" REALLY?!?! I hadn't thought of that. I was just going to let nine-month-old boys stuff as many crackers into their mouths as possible and see what happened. Maybe I'd finally get to use my Red Cross training!

I questioned her need to constantly state the obvious or give me advice that implies that I am a complete and utter moron. She said that all mother's do that. Um...No. Sorry mom, but you are the only mom I have ever heard say things like this.

She has never outgrown the need to make sure I am safe and now her over-protective nature is over-flowing onto my kids. I appreciate the concern but seriously, take a breath and think before engaging mouth.

And everyone wonders where I get it!

In the middle of the summer when the heat was nearing 100 degrees after telling her that I let the car run to cool it off before putting the kids in it, I was lectured about not leaving the kids in the car alone...You mean like you used to? The trailer-hitch incident is legendary in our family!

Mom and I talk every day. This affords her ample opportunities to ask me ridiculous crap. Driving down the road on the way to the store in the middle of the day on the phone with mom, "Are the kids with you?" she asks. "No," I replied. "They were sleeping so I left them at home. Of course they're with me! Where do you think they would be?!"

She is one of the smartest women I know. She is an award winning writer, was an editor, has a vocabulary that puts Webster to shame and all with only a high school degree and a few college credits. Yet, she sometimes lacks ALL common sense. Years ago while waiting for my sister to come through the customs' doors after an international flight, my mom tapped me on the leg and said, "Here, take this and shoot them when they come thru the doors." As people began to dive to the floor I ripped the camera from her hand held it above my head and shouted, "Camera! It's just a camera people!" Thank God this was before the Patriot Act!

While in a parking lot waiting for the torrential downpour to end so she could run into the store, she told me she had to have her windshield wipers on fast forward - As opposed to reverse?

Today, after a really wonderful barbecue at her house she was trying to get me to take the leftover apple pie home. I told her that both hubby and I were trying to lose weight. She said that I looked fine and didn't need to lose any weight. I replied that my clothes were still too tight. She said that was because my clothes were too small. Um...yeah...that would be the weight loss part.

There seems to be something about being a mother that makes her brain take a vacation and I seem to be headed in the same direction.

Some people call it Mommy Brain. I've heard it referred to as Mom-nesia. Either way it can be defined as the sensation of losing the ability to think rationally combined with memory loss.

For example, I've been a sailor my whole life. Thanks to my dad, I know all the parts of a sailboat intimately. I started sailing lessons when I was about eight years old and for as long as I can remember, spent every summer racing with dad. Some boats were small; some were large but those summers are the bulk of the best memories of my life.

Recently I offered to make a birthday cake for my friend's son who will be turning 4. He wants a Jake and the Neverland Pirates cake. I did a little research and found a picture of the pirate ship and thought it would be really cool to make it out of cake. I pulled up the picture to show it to my hubby and explained that I thought the toughest part would be the...the...the point. My hubby, a die-hard sailor,  looked at me totally aghast and said, "Do you mean the bow?" Yeah! That's it, the bow!!! Oh! My! GAWD!!! My father must be spinning in his grave! Never once before in my life have I referred to the bow of a boat as the "pointy end."

Until now.

It's official I have mom-nesia. I forget what I am saying in the middle of sentences. It takes me at least three tries to do just about anything and I am already calling the kids by the wrong names!

I am doomed!

I pick on my mom but the truth is that when the chips are down or if I need some advice she is the first person I call. I call her for Hollywood trivia. She knows actors and actresses like the back of her hand and could even tell me the name of the woman who played Hot Lips Houlihan in the movie M*A*S*H*.

I once called her from my office, first thing in the morning, to ask her what ennui meant. Not only did she know the word but she gave us the definition and used it in a sentence! This was impressive not just because she knew the word but because I couldn't even pronounce it and had to spell it for her. More importantly she had been sound asleep until my call had woken her up at 8:30 in the morning! Mom doesn't get up before the crack of 10!

She is a unbelievable writer. I dabble, she is a pro! I'm completely serious. If I were to compare the two of us I would be so intimidated that I would never publish a word. She has a blog too but doesn't write enough to satisfy any of us! Feel free to visit her site and let her know she needs to write more: Widowhood For Dummies

She is a Wonder Woman. She possesses and amazing knowledge of the English language, can plan an event, run any social function imaginable and is an authority on just about everything. She knows more about obscure medical stuff than most of the medical community and watches surgical shows for entertainment.

She knows the melody and lyrics to every children's nursery rhyme ever written and makes a point of singing the most annoying ear worms to the kids in my presence because she knows they drive me crazy! Skinamarinky dinky dink anyone?

Just don't ask her anything that involves geography. Her lack of knowledge is painful. She once asked me where Indianapolis was.

She possesses an air of authority that commands respect. Unless of course you are her daughter and are constantly bombarded with ridiculous advice like, "Don't leave the babies in the car" on a 100 degree day. I'm not saying I'm perfect, I'm just not that stupid.

If she were an American Indian her name would be, "She Who Must Not Be Denied." If she tells you to do something you'd better move! Doesn't matter if you are her child or not.

An order is an order.

You don't ever want to piss her off or threaten her children or grandchildren. She is the ultimate momma bear and when backed into a corner can come out so ferociously that you will be both begging for your life and apologizing in alternating breaths.

She has just about the worst diet of anyone that I know. She can live on leftover birthday cake for a week interspersed with Lean Cuisine frozen dinners and Pot Stickers with room temperature Sprite Zero to wash it all down.

And salad gives her heartburn.

She is the person we all go to when we need help and it doesn't matter what the problem is. A friend went to her because they were going to be cutting off her husband's government benefits. Mom took on the cause like it was hers and didn't give up until she got a Senator on the phone and got him to commit to helping her friends - which he did. 

I remember being so mad at her when I was a teenager and wondered if I would ever be able to be friends with her. I may tease her but we are more than friends now, we are buddies. My day is not complete unless we talk...at least once. 

Usually at dinnertime...the woman has a knack for calling whenever we are eating!