The good ol' days

Dave and I were conversing tonight about (in my interpretation) whether or not I get too involved in my parenting when it comes my children and their friendships. Dave was reminiscing of days gone by when we all just roamed the neighborhoods from breakfast until lunch and then back out until dinner and then back out until bedtime. Days full of exploration, sandboxes, and Jets vs. Sharks type neighborhood cahooting. Days when it was safe to play with hypodermic needles found at the park. His mom knew he was somewhere, but could not pinpoint. His mom did not set up play dates. The whole day was a play date, with whatever kids were around.

I grew up in these days too, although many years later. We ran around. We were bouncing from one backyard to the next, from one part of the creek to another. We had alliances. We said and did things that make me cringe now as a mother. We had adventures. We walked from our house to Kenny's grandma's a few blocks away (pause with me as I remember vividly being 20 feet from Mrs. Anderson's back door but Kenny couldn't wait to get a tissue. So instead he used his tshirt and it looked like strawberry jelly... do you have a mental picture?) to play in her awesome playhouse, to explore her eerie basement full of wonder, to play with the skeeter bugs in her front stream. We played night games non-stop. We would play tricks on some kids and then run like mad for Brooke and Tommy's house and tear into the basement until it was clear to come out. Once Megan E. and I got in a fight and she challenged me to a bike race down our newly graveled road (have I told this story?). We road to the top of our street, started our pedaling and then she (on purpose, truly) got her pedal too close to my spokes or chain or something and I ended up with forehead, hands and knees full of little rocks. Megan road on home without a second look and was not seen the rest of the day, while Joe Anderson picked rocks out of my skull. Fancy.

I digress. The conversation went over these nostalgic things, and since Dave and I still have not perfected our conversation skills with one another, got a little heated. I asked him to not blame me for the state of the world. He apparently wasn't but wishes it was the same for our kids. That they could run and play and be lost for hours. But people, it is different. What's being thrown at us is different, so the gameplan has to change.

You know when you have that feeling in your heart that tells you "this is not a good situation for your child"? A few years ago we had a new family move into our neighborhood and this feeling shouted from my chest. Dave thought I was being ridiculous, but I requested that E or CW was never left alone with these kids or their mom. My kids weren't aware of how I felt, but I just kept an extra eye on the situation. A couple years later we found out that the son (who is 9 now) had sexually abused a boy 1 year younger than Eli that lived near us. It would be a safe assumption that the 9 year old (7 at the time) had been or was being abused also. It also turned out that all sorts of inappropriate, sad stuff was happening over there. Dave is grateful now, but at the time did not understand what the heck I was so worried about.

I think that as their mom, it is my job to protect them from things and guide them through situations. If this means that if I think one kid's influence on my child is not great, then we limit time with them. If I see that my kid is not nice to someone, then we chill out for a while and give it a break. There have been times when I see that certain relationships that my kids are having with others are not beneficial at that time. There was a boy that E used to play with. Each time they played (and I am sure that I have mentioned this before) Eli came home about 2 inches shorter. I don't think that boy is a bad kid, I just don't think that the dynamics were ideal at that time. There are also friends that use language and behave in a way that I find inappropriate. Eli and I talk about it and I am sure Eli has said or done these things when I am not around. These are good learning situations. Caroline has a friend that she fights with frequently. The mother and I know this happens and if they are having a bad day we agree it does no one any good to prolong the play date. There are also houses where the rules are not the same as ours. And although Eli does a good job of letting a parent or friend know that he doesn't watch a certain show, I can't expect my 7 year old to always stand up for himself. Once I sent him over to a friend's house and he told me later that they had watched an action movie that, in my opinion, is rated PG-13 for a reason. He had nightmares. It is that parent's choice to let their kids watch that show if they choose, but it is up to me to let Eli know that it is not a great choice for him. He doesn't need to be exposed to violence and sexuality already. Yeah, I'm protective. I'm doing what I think is best for my kids.

Unfortunately we don't live in an age where I feel it is safe to send the kids out the front door and tell him to find someone to play with. The world is different. It isn't even always safe inside our own house. Technology has brought up many fantastic things, but with that also comes more responsibility to put safeguards in place for our children. Yes, there are wonderful people everywhere I look, but there are scary ones too. And just because Eli, Caroline and Joey will inevitably encounter situations that are not ideal, that does not mean I can't do all in my power to provide the ideal ones too. The stick is finding the balance between sheltering them too much and exposing them to things that their little hearts and minds aren't ready for. Each day I learn a little more about parenting, each day I find that I was right or maybe even wrong about a choice I made. It is a constant learning process. It's kicking my mothering tail.

Am Mom, Doing Fine

Don't worry. Things are fine. In fact, they are super fine. I am a realist, with a mix of cynicism. I know what I am doing it hard, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I think some people are uncomfortable listening to a rant. I know we should all make lemonade, but sometimes I want to throw the lemons against the wall before I add some sugar. Oddly, when I had written that last post I was past frustration and was actually calm and reflective at that point. Ahh. Enough about that.


School is almost out. We have some fun things lined up but we have some serious needs. Eli has taken swimming lessons since he was 2. He is still not water safe. It is the one sport that doesn't click perfectly. We must get this over with. And Caroline needs it to.


I'm to the point now that school has been in too long. I am ready to have Eli home more, even if it means we butt heads. Caroline can't wait to have him around. She told me the other day that she loves Eli the best. Don't worry, I'm not bitter. I just wish she would spread some more constant love to her little brother. My kids are actually quite good to each other. They rarely purposely hurt each other. They really look out for each other, are the first to defend each other and right now I am on the phone with the parent of where Eli is playing and Eli and friend are in the background wondering if Caroline can come over and play. Today at E's school I took pre-birthday treats and when we walked in the class all yelled "Joe Joe" and Caroline went and sat next to E's best friend. Life is good. They love each other. Even better, they like each other.


Eli's teacher wrote us a Thank You note thanking us for sharing our most precious commodity with her. She went on to tell us about how she has enjoyed watching him when he learns about science, how she is in awe of his athletic ability and so on. I know she wrote a note like this to every parent, but the specifics were so thoughtful. I know next year I will love E's teacher but truly this teacher has been spectacular. She is fresh, new, kind and observant. She doesn't let the kids leave without a high-five or a hug (I think the option is given but they all choose a billion hugs).

So this summer, I will try to play more, be patient, encourage exploration even if it means it is messy, be an example of kindness and use more sunscreen.

Am Mom, Need Help

Seriously, if anyone told you how hard it was, you wouldn't believe them. If you did believe them, and actually comprehended just how hard it was, the population would be severely depleted.
I can do the little things. I can pick out clothes, I can give great buzz haircuts, I can roll some mean sponge curlers but the rest? I feel like I am in one of those goofy high school movies where the clumsy girl trips, stumbles, stutters and flounders. That is my life. Give me the hard stuff like teaching right from wrong and how to interpret the gray area and I am grasping at straws. Disciplining - probably just making it worse.

I am quite positive I am messing up, continually. When E comes to me with some emotional drama of Pokemon proportions, I lose my patience. When he falls to the floor when I refuse a Wendy's trip (which, let's face it, would be easier than actually preparing a meal - but that isn't the point, is it?) and wails, "YOU MEAN NEVER, EVER, EVER AGAIN? WE WON'T EAT NUGGETS EVER, EVER AGAIN?" or when I tell him that we don't always get to have play dates and he falls to the ground and say, "YOU MEAN I'LL NEVER PLAY WITH FRIENDS EVER, EVER, EVER AGAIN?" or "YOU MEAN I CAN NEVER, EVER, EVER HAVE FRIENDS? I SHOULD JUST NOT MAKE ANY MORE BECAUSE I WILL NEVER, EVER, EVER PLAY WITH THEM?" and I reply, "No, Eli, never, ever, ever will we eat at Wendy's or her farm cousin up the road. " or "Yes, Eli, stop making friends. You have no need for them because you will never have another playdate." You think I jest? I have made these replies. I have scarred him for life I am sure.

Or when I am tired and it is tv time (I truly believe in this, for my sake and theirs'. Of course, they are only watching the Science or History channel, I'm not completely negligent) and Caroline comes to me with a question about why Cinderella's sisters are so (historically) mean to her or why the Wicked Queen would ever poison Snow White and I look her in the eye and say, "Caroline, what is the rule? We don't ask questions, we just watch for entertainment remember?" True. We don't encourage questions in our house. It is what it is. Just do what you are told. Or go ask a teacher, but for Heaven's sake, leave Mama alone!

I am mildly joking. But truly, this task is all consuming. It is day in and day out. There is no stop to the parenting. This is what we signed up for, knowing the importance or extent or not. We, I, am molding this generation. And believe me, my kids know when I mess up.

Last week, I was sick. I hadn't felt well in days, my head pounded and I swear my kids never stopped talking. And why should they? They should chatter and interact all day with me. But sometimes, sometimes I just want quiet. Contented quiet. Caroline was being a pill (gasp! Caroline wasn't perfect and picture worthy? I hear you, unbelievable.). She refused to let me brush her hair. She refused to get dressed. She refused to brush her teeth and she was treating Joey horribly. But I had to brush her hair. We had errands to run! I had no time for such antics. So, I stood her between my knees and I brushed. I brushed sloft (Caroline's request and word - slow and soft). She whined and cried. So, I threw caution to the wind and brushed with intent. More dramatic crying and then came the fight with Joey. He tried to take a plastic recorder (the instrument) from her and instead she swung it back and hit me HARD! Of course, it was by accident but I let out a scream that is still cringe-worthy when thought of. And I gave her hair one serious brush and then threw down the brush and threw my head in my hands and sobbed because I wanted to be invisible. I wanted to be alone. I didn't want to break up anymore squabbles, I didn't want to make any more lunches. I didn't want to make any more dinners that children refused to eat. I didn't to be the bigger person or have patience. I wanted to throw things at the wall and see them shatter - and I didn't want to have to clean up after my tirade.

Dave saw the wild look in my eye. I had already sent Caroline to her room - more for her safety than for me. I sat with my head in my hands for a good 5 minutes. Then I went into her room and laid next to her on the bed and held her. She was tired too. She was tired of being patient with her 2 year old brother and her grumpy, sick mom. She was tired of a mom that doesn't like to play dolls or get all the paint out because it is messy.

I know I complain about being needed all the time. Of course not every day is me ruining lives, one neglected teaching moment at a time. I'm doing my best. Some days I am magnificent, most days I am mediocre to pretty ok, a few days should be magically erased from their beautiful little noggins. I say I am molding them, but really they are molding me. I wake up each morning with the resolve that today I will be a better mommy. I will be kind, gentle, patient. I will be a great example of industry and domestic bliss. I will know exactly what to say, to answer each question and to guide them merrily on their way and then by 10 am I am once again falling, stuttering, rolling my eyes and gasping for air. But hopefully, to them it looks like I am dancing, singing, batting my eyes lovingly at them and good posture.