Over the summer my gappy-toothed little man (6) got to take the big bus to summer camp for 2 weeks! Every morning I would herd my two kiddos into the car and drive over to the pick-up spot. Every afternoon, I`d be there when the bus pulled back in, and every time I got an earful of little boy stories.
" The bus got stuck on train tracks, and the bus driver got scared and ran away, then all us kids got out and saw a train coming, so we pushed the bus over the tracks and the train went by like whoooooooosh and then I had to drive the bus to camp and it was hard to reach the pedals and I went off a cliff and the bus rolled and there were trees crashing us and the kids were like AH OH NO AHHHHHH, but we made it to camp alright."
That was the type of response I got to " How was your day? Did you have fun?"
HOLY COW.
Fact of the matter is kids have fantastic imaginations, better than most Hollywood movies and certainly more exciting than the lives you and I lead. The problem here is, how do we deal with it? His stories were so fantastical that I knew within seconds they were flights of fancy, but how long do we indulge them?
I have had to slowly, gently lay down some reality for him. " Oh, I am sure you must have been happy to be on the bus, but I don't think you really drove it!"
I have decided to ride these flights of fancy with my children as best I can while I have the opportunity. 7 turns into 17 and 3 becomes 23 faster than most parents want to admit.
Besides, super powers are only cool when you're under 10!
Friday, 3 May 2013
My Child is a Pig. A Cute Pig, but a Pig.
So earlier this week, I posted a plea in one of my Facebook Mommy groups. I was lamenting the horrid table manner of my now 7 year old. They are down right repulsive. He chews with his mouth open, he licks his fingers and slurps foods I didn't know could be slurped. He's a total marvel that would have a manners expert running for the hills.
I don't want him perfect, that would be creepy and Stepford-ish. I just want him to be less gross.
My fellow mommies came to my aid with virtual margaritas and anecdotal Asprin.
" I'm very relaxed, " one woman wrote, " My son is gross too. My husband (38) is also gross. It's a boy thing" she said.
I want to believe her. I have a short fuse, I admit it. But who wouldn't around someone who eats salad with their fingers!
Another woman offered to seat him next to her son and mine would come out roses! Mind you her son has "underdeveloped facial/tongue muscles and fine motor skill issues".
Sorry, that didn't make me feel as better as you'd have hoped.
My son is right on target if not exceeding. He's just lazy, I say!
This boy of mine won't use a napkin while eating chicken wings or pizza. He doesn't wipe them on his shirt. The dear little handsome boy, lick his palms! YUCK!
In short, I still have to remind my son to use his napkin, chew with his mouth closed and eat over his plate. I just hope I am not doing that when he's 20!
I don't want him perfect, that would be creepy and Stepford-ish. I just want him to be less gross.
My fellow mommies came to my aid with virtual margaritas and anecdotal Asprin.
" I'm very relaxed, " one woman wrote, " My son is gross too. My husband (38) is also gross. It's a boy thing" she said.
I want to believe her. I have a short fuse, I admit it. But who wouldn't around someone who eats salad with their fingers!
Another woman offered to seat him next to her son and mine would come out roses! Mind you her son has "underdeveloped facial/tongue muscles and fine motor skill issues".
Sorry, that didn't make me feel as better as you'd have hoped.
My son is right on target if not exceeding. He's just lazy, I say!
This boy of mine won't use a napkin while eating chicken wings or pizza. He doesn't wipe them on his shirt. The dear little handsome boy, lick his palms! YUCK!
In short, I still have to remind my son to use his napkin, chew with his mouth closed and eat over his plate. I just hope I am not doing that when he's 20!
Monday, 8 April 2013
Adventures in Parenting
During dinner one evening, SevenYearOld begins the age old childhood habit of flipping his eyelids. Darling husband promptly scolds him and goes back to eating.
SevenYearOld does it again. I utter a PG expletive (something like fudgepicker or ShipShape).
Darling husband begins to explain the dreaded, horrifying dangers of eyelid flipping.
The conversation goes something like this:
DH-"You know that's really dangerous! Your eye could fall right out. "
SYO- " Really?"
DH- "yup, happened to somebody that I used to know" (DO NOT START SINGING)
SYO- "what was his name?"
DH- " Jeff Healy "
WTH???
SYO- " did it hurt?"
DH- "sure did! His eye fell out. Just hung there, all dangly like. (Kids like gore) It was so damaged, the doctors couldn't make it work! "
SYO- "So what did he do?"
DH- "Well he couldn't get a job, so you know that book mommy reads you? The one about Stinkyface? It's about him. That's how he gets money"
SYO - (still totally buyin it, even though, I'm dying of laughter inside, wiping a year from my eye) that's really about him?"
DH- " sure. That part where it says ,' and she said I love you and sang to him until his one droopy eyelid finally closed" that's about Jeff and his one eye that worked "
I could hardly hold it together! The boy was in hook line and sinker.
Now he's in the basement playing with his sister. "That's not how you fly a jet, lady!"
Good heavens, what am I going to do with them?
Sunday, 7 April 2013
Last Night at Bedtime....
"Um, isn't that a bunny Shyla?" says Stupid Mom (me).
"Mommy," gone is all her cuteness and sweet innocence, replaced with mature well tempered sympathy for my lack of IQ," do bunnies have ears like this? NO!"
Stupid Mom is stunned into silence momentarily" Shyla, it's a BUN-NY!"
"Stop that Mommy. You're wrong" Says Worldly Three year old.," It says PUPPY on his tag"
(When did she learn to read?)
(When did she learn to read?)
"Ok, it's a puppy, what's his name Shyla?"
After looking him in the eye, "Bunny Christophe"
Monday, 11 March 2013
Birthday Parties : 3 Ways
So I am on the home stretch of planning my son's 7th birthday! He's 7 already, that long fingered , big eyed bundle of joy I brought home all those moons ago is almost 7. In the midst of all this planning, I have begun to reflect on how the birthday party has evolved for us.
Simon's 1st birthday was a gong-show. I mean, who do you invite? Where do you host it? The answer, if you're a new parent it EVERYONE and at your house, respectively. I mean, 12mths of playdates, playgroups and meetings at the park garner a 1 year old a boat load of besties and they all should be at the celebration.
In reality, the 1st birthday is for the parents. That's right, I said it. The parents. They survived the 12 months of chaos after bringing home their non-refundable drooling, pooping, and torturous forced insomnia. They have been peed on, head butted and have left the remote control in the refrigerator more times than they care to admit. Hockey games were missed, a good glass of wine a distant memory, nursery rhymes have replaced knowledge of Microsoft Excel in their brains.
You have learned what valves go into what sippy cups, what diapers can contain the foulest smells and you can fold down that stroller like an Olympian! Parents give up a whole heck of a lot and while everyone is happy that baby is one year old, they are truly celebrating the fact that no one gave up.
Who do you invite to such a auspicious occasion? Every relative, friend, drinking buddy, crafting pal, you have ever had the pleasure of looking at. That lady at the gym who wiped down the elliptical, the waiter who said your sleeping child was adorable, they get to come have cake too! Don't laugh, you seasoned parents out there have done this and more.
The subsequent birthdays are for the parents too, in a way. What better way to check out and regulate the friends your child has. My son's most recent birthdays involved having the parents stay so we could meet and vett the parents. I let him pick the invitees, but if I didn't like them, they never came back.
Of course, some folks might argue this is a toy grab for junior and it is. All those crazy, trendy toys that you have been harassed about, are now potentially being bought by someone else. Sure it's pricey feeding 10 kids pizza, cake and juice pops. Cleaning up after them is a disaster too, betcha didn't know that a Kool-Aid can spray that far up the wall with little effort! Yet at the end of the day, as you tuck in little Suzy or Ryan, you get regaled with stories of " ...the best time ever...I laughed so much....you're the best..."
Finally, if you've done the parenting thing right, you have become a totally uncool entity in your child's eyes. Your goofy impression of Bill Clinton, humiliating, that great head band you bought at a yard sale, shameful and don't get them started on the baby photos you have hung on every available surface in your home. This is when you can host that very last party. This one, like the first is more for you than for the child. You can now drink a glass of wine or six on a school night, you don't have to drive anyone to swim practice or pack any lunches. So invite your friends, let the kids duck out early and you can head to bed at 9pm.
They will love you for it.
So whatever stage you're at with your child is at, whatever stage you are at with your party hosting, let Barnilay help you make it no-stress day. Give us your budget, your theme and let the good times roll!
Simon's 1st birthday was a gong-show. I mean, who do you invite? Where do you host it? The answer, if you're a new parent it EVERYONE and at your house, respectively. I mean, 12mths of playdates, playgroups and meetings at the park garner a 1 year old a boat load of besties and they all should be at the celebration.
In reality, the 1st birthday is for the parents. That's right, I said it. The parents. They survived the 12 months of chaos after bringing home their non-refundable drooling, pooping, and torturous forced insomnia. They have been peed on, head butted and have left the remote control in the refrigerator more times than they care to admit. Hockey games were missed, a good glass of wine a distant memory, nursery rhymes have replaced knowledge of Microsoft Excel in their brains.
You have learned what valves go into what sippy cups, what diapers can contain the foulest smells and you can fold down that stroller like an Olympian! Parents give up a whole heck of a lot and while everyone is happy that baby is one year old, they are truly celebrating the fact that no one gave up.
Who do you invite to such a auspicious occasion? Every relative, friend, drinking buddy, crafting pal, you have ever had the pleasure of looking at. That lady at the gym who wiped down the elliptical, the waiter who said your sleeping child was adorable, they get to come have cake too! Don't laugh, you seasoned parents out there have done this and more.
The subsequent birthdays are for the parents too, in a way. What better way to check out and regulate the friends your child has. My son's most recent birthdays involved having the parents stay so we could meet and vett the parents. I let him pick the invitees, but if I didn't like them, they never came back.
Of course, some folks might argue this is a toy grab for junior and it is. All those crazy, trendy toys that you have been harassed about, are now potentially being bought by someone else. Sure it's pricey feeding 10 kids pizza, cake and juice pops. Cleaning up after them is a disaster too, betcha didn't know that a Kool-Aid can spray that far up the wall with little effort! Yet at the end of the day, as you tuck in little Suzy or Ryan, you get regaled with stories of " ...the best time ever...I laughed so much....you're the best..."
Finally, if you've done the parenting thing right, you have become a totally uncool entity in your child's eyes. Your goofy impression of Bill Clinton, humiliating, that great head band you bought at a yard sale, shameful and don't get them started on the baby photos you have hung on every available surface in your home. This is when you can host that very last party. This one, like the first is more for you than for the child. You can now drink a glass of wine or six on a school night, you don't have to drive anyone to swim practice or pack any lunches. So invite your friends, let the kids duck out early and you can head to bed at 9pm.
They will love you for it.
So whatever stage you're at with your child is at, whatever stage you are at with your party hosting, let Barnilay help you make it no-stress day. Give us your budget, your theme and let the good times roll!
Wednesday, 19 December 2012
In the Wake of Tragedy, Do You Believe?
We all watched and listened in horror last Friday as the events of the most tragic massacre unfolded in quiet, peaceful Newtown, Ct. One of my friends posted to her Facebook wall that it was ,"proof again there is no 'God' " That post received some flack, some support and a lot of traffic.
After hiding out for week, trying to deal with the steady media stream of a parents worst nightmare, I finally formed a response to her post.
It went like this", I believe as ********** does. God is a concept to appease the masses. The good works we do, the mystery of life, the summer wind. Those are all part of this collective ideal of God.
Did he send his only son to Earth? Did he flood the planet or create us all, I have no idea. But when the man called Jesus said that God was in everything and everyone, when he told us God would be known by many different names, I believed him. Was God there in CT that day? Yes, in the voices of the teachers, on the lips of the worried family and friends. In the eyes of the first responders who witnessed the unbearable.
I don't know if God is laughing but I know there are some happy, joyous spirits out there in the great beyond who will greet us when we get called home to the Beginning."
I was raised in an Irish Catholic family with clergy for Great Aunts and Uncles. Some of the older generation had strong views, we were all sent to Catholic school. It was part of who we were. In University, I took a World Religion course and formed my own ideas and belief system.
That system came in handy when I heard the news, heard about those poor babies, their teachers who loved them and their families who must carry on. With a shattered heart, I spent any time I could spare to decide how I felt. Did I still believe in a higher power. Yes. Was my soul run over by a truck and dragged 300feet on broken glass? Yes.
Then my amazing cousin posted a quote that she clung to in dealing with the four year anniversary of her mothers passing. It has nothing to do with God and yet, I think this fits perfectly for those ripped from the bosom of the families.
"...In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night...You - only you - will have stars that can laugh." -- The Little Prince"
Thanks my dear cousin for easing my burden and allowing me to be the mother I need to be to my lovely, yet challenging children.
I will go outside one evening and listen for the laughter, will you?
Tuesday, 11 December 2012
That holiday spirit
So this is Christmas... And what have you done?
John asked that question years ago and seems he does annually.
How have you tried to improve the world you live in? How has the human spirit thrived through you?
At this time of year we rush to find places to volunteer, donate and support. Ask any charity, this seems to be the best time of year for them, hands down.
But why? Is it because we can't stand to see others not enjoying the sanctity of family, tucked in the bosom of peace and security? We insist every child should have a smile on their faces at this time of year.
I'll tell you why this is. At least in my opinion. This is the time of year we feel the most pressure, socially,morally, spiritually to be the kind of person our moms wanted us to be. Kind, generous, giving almost to a fault. The kind of person we want our children to be. Unafraid of being a little vulnerable, to put a $10 in the charity kettle, buy a few toys for the toy drive at the fire hall, be bold and adopt a family at Christmas, send baked goods to the seniors home. All these selfless acts find their way into being at the end of every year.
The air is thick with them. Why the other night, the news reported a person paying off 18 lay-away accounts at their local Walmart. This stranger bought toys for kids!
This week we are taking our two out to Walmart or toys r us to buy a bunch of toys and leave them in the donation pen at the mall. I hope by showing him (age 6) that its ok to do these things. That it makes us feel good to share a bit of what we have.
So I packed the family up after dinner tonight and headed to the mall. The concept came pretty easily to both my children. We bought boots, hats, and of course toys. If the kids on the receiving end are anything like my brother and I, they won't be too thrilled by the clothing, but their parents will.
There was only two moments of "not happy"; one when DD freaked out that Daddy put some dolls in the cart, "I DON"T WANT THOSE!!" It was resolved by telling her they weren't for her. The BIG fight over who got to put the bags in the donation pen.
Can you believe it?? They couldn't decide who would be the one to "give".
My heart grew three sizes!
My son even smiled his gappy-toothed grin and asked if we could meet the kids we were buying for, so he could play with them and make friends. What a kid.....
John asked that question years ago and seems he does annually.
How have you tried to improve the world you live in? How has the human spirit thrived through you?
At this time of year we rush to find places to volunteer, donate and support. Ask any charity, this seems to be the best time of year for them, hands down.
But why? Is it because we can't stand to see others not enjoying the sanctity of family, tucked in the bosom of peace and security? We insist every child should have a smile on their faces at this time of year.
I'll tell you why this is. At least in my opinion. This is the time of year we feel the most pressure, socially,morally, spiritually to be the kind of person our moms wanted us to be. Kind, generous, giving almost to a fault. The kind of person we want our children to be. Unafraid of being a little vulnerable, to put a $10 in the charity kettle, buy a few toys for the toy drive at the fire hall, be bold and adopt a family at Christmas, send baked goods to the seniors home. All these selfless acts find their way into being at the end of every year.
 |
| Two adorable Secret Santas |
 |
| "Can you believe how good we feel!??" |
There was only two moments of "not happy"; one when DD freaked out that Daddy put some dolls in the cart, "I DON"T WANT THOSE!!" It was resolved by telling her they weren't for her. The BIG fight over who got to put the bags in the donation pen.
Can you believe it?? They couldn't decide who would be the one to "give".
My heart grew three sizes!
My son even smiled his gappy-toothed grin and asked if we could meet the kids we were buying for, so he could play with them and make friends. What a kid.....
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