Friday, July 29, 2016

Ivy is going to military school and things I wouldn't wish on you

Ivy intentionally splashed water in my ear last week. Now I have swimmer's ear and it is AWFUL.

So swimmer's ear is now something I wouldn't wish on anyone, along with the rest of this list.....

Kidney stones: is there any worse pain other than self-disembowelment??

Swallowing a fly: this was a total accident, but I swear I've never felt worse. Like a gross tv show that you can't stop watching because you ARE the tv show.

Breaking a toe: it hurts!!! And when you go to the ER, they laugh at you and send you home with duct tape.

Have a first grader pee on your foot during 1st period: you think you're in the clear when it's not kindergarten. You are wrong.

Living with an adolescent girl: my mom deserves props for allowing me to live through age 11.

Thursday, May 26, 2016

I want my...I want my...I want my kids' TV

I don't have to worry about my kids watching too much TV anymore. Because they don't watch it!

It's been forever since I had to listen to Girl Meets World or Teen Titans! I didnt even have to ground them.

I have total control over the remote. I can watch as much Law and Order as I want!!

You may think I'm mom of the YEAR or that my kids have had some sort of spiritual transformation, but sadly that's not the case.

This TV watching shortage in my house is the direct result of YouTube. There's Stampycat, who walks around a fake blocky world talking in an annoying falsetto. There's DisneyCar  toys, which open packs of Shopkins and Baby Alive dolls and have some sort of soap opera going on with Elsa and Anna dolls. Every Justin Bieber and Megan Trainor song has a corresponding video.

And then every child on Abby Lee's dance team has 62 videos on how to put on makeup or the latest gross sounds they can make.

I never thought I would say this, but I kind of miss Dora the Explorer asking me which way to go a thousand times.

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

I ask too much

Story is convinced that I am a monster who is trying to break her free will and turn her into a mini-slave. So I present to you...the top ten Story statements that demonstrate how I am ruining her life:

1. Mommy, I don't understand how you won't just let me be ME.

2. Why are you always wanting me to be a better person than I am? I don't want to be any better.

3. I don't think I should always have to be nice to you guys unless you are getting me something.

4. I have no control over my life. You tell me everything I am supposed to do. Can I go pee? Am I allowed to breathe?

5. I shouldn't have to be good.

6. You don't ever let me do anything I want to do!

7. Why do you want me to look so perfect all the time?!?! I don't want to be. Stop brushing my hair.

8. Really? How many more times in life do I have to shower???

9. You let me stay up too late and you wake me up too early!!!!!!

10. Why do you want me to be nicer? I have to be nice to people all day. I'm tired of being nice when I get home.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Nature's cruel joke

When my girls were toddlers, they wanted to do everything themselves. Screams of, "I can do it BY MYSELF!!!" echoed throughout my house for years.

Some things are good to do by yourself when you're three... "Yes, you can clean your room all by yourself!" "Sure, go ahead and wash your face all by yourself!"

Others not so much. "No, you may not pour milk from the new gallon jug all by yourself." "Cutting your hair by yourself is not okay." "No, slicing your chicken nugget with the fileting knife by yourself isn't safe."

But with age comes manual dexterity and common sense, and the ability to do many many things on your own! I was very excited for the days my kids learned to put their clothes away, take their own showers, dust, and take care of their own stuff!

Of course, now that they can, they won't. Instead of "No! Let me help!" My days are filled saying, "For heaven's sake, you are ten years old, stop being lazy and do it yourself!"

Mommy, can you please wash my hair?

Mommy, can you help me put my clothes on?

Mommy, will you please help me do my math?

Mommy, please help me clean this up."

Will you get me a drink? Put on my shoes? Brush my teeth? Find me something to eat? Open this? Count this? Do this for me?

Every single thing they fought so hard to do themselves is now something they want me to do! It's harder work than giving baby baths and changing diapers!

I guess one day I'll be alone and regret saying this, but when do I get a break? :) 

Monday, November 2, 2015

It's math

When I was in school, we had reading groups. I was a Bluebird. The Bluebirds were an elite group of 3rd grade readers. We were so cool, we read out of the fourth grade book. Most days of the week we would sit on the floor of the back of the room and read our fourth grade book full of interesting stories and big words.

The Cardinals were the group right under us. They read exactly where they were supposed to read at all through the year. We knew because they sat in the middle of the room and we could hear them reading a story we had already conquered.

The Robins were the slower readers. We didn't know what they read because they sat in their desks at the front of the room with the teacher.

As a much older person and also as a teacher, I can see that this maybe wasn't the best system for the Robins, or even the Cardinals. I know now that grouping readers like that is bad for self esteem, especially when it was near impossible to move up or down in groups.

So why are my kids being grouped in math?

There are a million arguments against and for Common Core, and I am not debating that. I'm debating the fact that my kids come home from school gleeful that they received the E homework, or devastated that they got the P, or heaven help us, the dreaded R homework.

Most days they have a Quick Check. I don't know what that is, but that determines the homework paper they have that night.

The E is for Enrichment. That's a paper they get that has absolutely nothing to do with what they learned that day, my kids say. It is the elite of math homework.  When you get the E, you are a smart cookie. (And when you get the E, your math smart mommy is clueless on what to do....it's like those problems at the end of the lesson that mommy's teacher always told them to skip).

P is for Practice. It has a bunch of problems about the lesson. Sometimes Math Mommy still doesn't know what to do.

R is for Reteach. My kids are so upset and embarrassed when they get an R that they hide it. So I have never even seen an R paper.

And so I wonder, how is this any less harmful to my kids' self esteem than the reading groups? Sure, it's a daily chance to get an E, but it's also a daily dose of ego boosting or ego crushing. And Ivy says all the kids know what the other kids got. And then they gloat or are embarrassed.

When I was a Bluebird, I never once made a Robin or a Cardinal feel bad. When reading class was over, all the bird life was forgotten and we were one class again going outside to enjoy our 30 minutes of morning recess. Followed by our lunch recess, and then our afternoon recess (and I'll complain about that in another post some day).  We didn't feel the need to wear a scarlet letter declaring our intelligence and worry about it changing daily.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Mommy woes: Reading is bad

Ivy has a new love of reading. 

I have always bought books, borrowed books from the library, and heck, I pay $10 a month for Amazon free reading. Just so my kids will read. And they don't.

Apparently I have been choosing the wrong books. Ivy has read two whole books in a week that did not have pictures. No. Pictures. People!!!!!

They were recommended by her language arts teacher (who also happens to be my best friend). This is great, really....I was so excited to see her reading.

I have always picked happy books with no hard issues....these were books that made her think. And cry. For a few hours.

Now, I can't count the number of times I have sobbed incoherently over fictional characters. How many times did they die unexpectedly?  Or do something awful? Or break my heart, or have their own heart broken? I am no stranger to the emotional onslaught of a book.

But how am I going to console my daughter when so and so dies and she cries for two hours? I can't even fall back on, "They are in a better place now! We'll see them again in heaven!" because they don't exist.

I could read the book so I could more accurately gauge what she is going through, but I don't want to be sobbing at the end of it, too. So far, the best I can do is hold her while she sobs.

Friday, July 31, 2015

Things I Miss

I am not a sentimental mother.

And that's good because I think you can get lost in that....looking back so much that you don't see what your kids are doing in the present.

People miss their kids being babies....they remember them being small and cuddly and smelling good and smiling.....when I see a baby I acknowledge their smell and cuddlyness....but I also remember they have diapers, they cry, they can't talk, they puke, and they require you to pack a giant bag of anything they may need in the course of an hour anytime you go anywhere.....

I read a blog post about a mom who missed washing her daughter's hair. Not me. Maybe I'm not missing that one since I'm newly able to send them to the shower and scream 52 times from the living room, "Are you done?? Don't forget to use the soap!"

I enjoy the fact that they can use the microwave. I like that they can semi-choose matching clothes to wear if I just really don't want to pick them out. I am glad they can read instructions, and that I can trust them around electrical outlets, and also that I know Story won't go straight for the knives and cut her fingers off if they're putting away dishes. Theoretically they might be able to survive a few days without me!

The other day I made a list....a list, people! They did the things on the list. They cleaned toilet seats and sinks and swept floors. I was free to do laundry....and I started to think, "wow, this motherhood thing may be starting to pay off!!"

I'm not entirely cold hearted. I occassionally have a moment of nostalgia thinking about where they were totally entertained by a few belly tickles and eye contact. And then I ask Ivy to make me a bowl of popcorn and she does so I'm okay being in the present.