How to enjoy your child.

1. When she says, "Mom, can we press flowers?!" Say, "Yes!"

2. Allow her to mangle the mums you just bought.

3. Watch as she mashes 5 blooms into the pages of a book with no paper, flattening, arranging, etc.

4. Say nothing as blooms disintegrate and leave trail of blossoms all. over. the. floor.

5. Sweep.

6. Offer help, but stand back and wait until she's ready to receive it. Ignore the air being punctuated by her loud, grunty, "Ugh!"s. Yes, I mean ughs. As in plural. Many. Nonstop.

7. When she is finally in the mindset to accept some help, teach her to put paper or waxed paper in the book, flatten the flower, then close the book gently. Place stack of books on top.

8. When asked, "Can we do it again? Right now?" Say, "Yes. With your father."

9. Laugh while you watch him reenact the entire scene.

10. That is how to enjoy your child, her sense of curiosity, lust for spontaneous exploration, and willingness to try something new at the drop of a hat.

Happy Sunday! 

We're a team

Every now and then, some lesson you've tried to impress upon your child sinks in and makes itself known in the most random, beautiful moments.

In our quest to be good parents who don't yell, but instill consequences, Steve and I often emphasize why we must cooperate with each other. Mind you, we don't always succeed. We've both yelled, only to be told by Ryan, "Margie said we don't yell!" Oy vay, my words right back in my face :)  I've told Ryan repeatedly that we help each other. We listen to each other. We're a family. We're a team.

She's getting it; she's realizing that when I say, "If you don't help me, I won't help you" I mean it and since she often wants my help, she gets it that she needs to help me, too.

So let me tell you how I know something has sunk in. Today started off a bit...weird. We are out of our schedule. Firmly out of our schedule. Routine's all discombobulated. Wait, what routine?! I have asked Steve several times today if it's Friday. It indeed is Friday, but neither of us can seem to wrap our minds around that!

I can't say today's been a hard day, or a rough day; in fact, this week has been really good. Even though we've been super busy, and Ryan is sporting a 102 degree fever, we've thoroughly enjoyed our vacation time. I'm so grateful for this time. These past few weeks have been full of contradictions. Without rehashing it all, because I know we all watch the news, there has been a lot of sadness. But then on the polar opposite, we have much to be thankful for. Maybe I'm more sensitive to all my blessings because I'm so aware of the recent tragedies, but this holiday has seemed very poignant for me. So I won't complain about what happened today, as it could be so much worse and it led to one of the sweetest conversations I've ever had with my child.

Steve and I decided to take Ryan to Red Robin for lunch. (I know, I know -- I'm a horrible mother for taking my sick child out of the house! But she's been trapped in this house for two days now and she's been begging to go. Even though this kid is sick, you'd never know it! She's not complaining and she's happy and energetic... at least this time :)

Anyway, back on point, we took two cars. Steve was going to run errands and we were coming back home so the little lady could take a nap. Steve went first. He warned me that he had pulled my car in the garage kind of crooked and I had better pay attention to the left mirror. So I did. So much so that I completely ignored the garbage can and recycling bin at the end of the driveway. Until I hit them. And dragged the recycling bin way under my rear tires. Stuck. The bin. And the truck.

Seriously? WTF?!

I tried to pull forward, to no avail. My husband, the brilliant man he is, had already noticed my predicament, because he suspected I was going to hit them. He had driven slowly and when he saw me stop, he turned around and came back. Good thing, too. He had to pull out everything he could from underneath the carriage of the truck. Still stuck. Then he got a big board, I'm gonna guess it was a 2x6, and he wedged it under the tire. Spinning tires. Smoking tires. Still stuck.

I tried to go forward, I tried to go backward, Steve pushed, and I cautioned him the entire time so I didn't run him over. Yes, I was worried about that. That would suck.

Finally, between moving the board and trying again and again, I became unstuck. Yay!!! We were on our way. There wasn't even any swearing. We even laughed :) I love being on vacation; there's no stress, so small things like that seem funny instead of catastrophic.

Ryan said, "Mom, why did Daddy come back to help us?"
Me: "Of course Daddy came back to help us! That's what we do -- we help each other."
Ryan: "Because we're a team!"
Me: (with shocked awe) "Yes! We are!"
Ryan: "I told Cuvin that I'm on a team with my Mommy and Daddy." (Cuvin goes to Kango with Ryan.)
Me: "That's right! We're a team!"
Ryan: "Because we're a family."
Me: "That's right, baby. We're a team and a family. Always."

Later, as I put her down for her nap:
Ryan: (Stroking her baby uni pillow pet) "I love you. Don't be scared. I'm right here for you. I will always protect you. We're a team."

Que the weepy eyes and full heart. Lesson learned. Good Mom award earned. Finally. Perhaps she does listen to me...

Merry Christmas!

I haven't posted anything since November 4th. Life has just gotten in the way. I have a million ideas in my head that I want to write about. Some are home related, work related, world related... just the ramblings of my brain, and boy,  does my brain ramble! Scary, actually...

But today, I just want to give thanks. Thanks that I have a perfect little family. Not because I am perfect, or Ryan is, or Steve is, but because together, when we're all home safe and sound, our little family is perfect.

I marvel at how we are healthy, happy, alive, and together, and how God put all three of us in this same little space together. How lucky - how blessed I am. Sometimes it hits me and I just want to weep with gratitude.

As I watched Ryan take over two hours to open her gifts (she opened each and every one with rapt attention, played with it, then moved on, truly enjoying the process :)), I tried to imagine what it would be like to be in the shoes of someone in Newtown or Webster or anyone else in the world full of pain and suffering. I can't do it. I can't imagine the depths of grief they must be sinking in. My heart breaks for them and I pray they will find the peace they need.

I don't know why I am so lucky, but I will take it, and I promise I will cherish it.

In 2013, I will focus more on the good. I will celebrate more the happy. I will remember more all that we have to be thankful for. It won't always be easy and sometimes I will fail, but life is too short to do anything else. Hold your heads up high, breathe deeply, ask for peace in your soul and smile. God loves you and I do, too! Merry Christmas my fb friends!

My kid is driving me crazy!

She has been pretending to be a baby lately. Literally. She wants us to swaddle her, hold her cup and feed her like it's a bottle, plus she's whining, crying, and crawling. I know she just wants our attention, but this is a bit much. I know pretending is a way they learn and use their imaginations and interact with the world, but this is a bit much.

Steve and I are trying to train her to realize that the world doesn't revolve around her. At this moment, this is what I'm getting, "Mom! I wanted a raw cookie!" Stomping over the computer where I'm attempting to blog. Disgusted look in her face. Sinking to the floor in anguish. Crawling to the fridge to get them out. Clearly I suck.

Eating a raw cookie. All is right with the world. I made her get them herself. I refused to move from the chair. Does that make me a bad Mom?! God this shit is hard!!

Anyhoo, she can't stand it if Steve and I have a conversation. She hates it if I walk away for a minute. She wants to be on top of me every second. I've had enough. I can't take it. I need to be able to leave my kid alone for 2 minutes to pee. I also can't stand the whining. Good Lord! I usually don't respond until she straightens up. I have to tell her to stop whining and crying and talk like a big girl and then I'll listen. But I do this about 100 times a day. It's exhausting!! Is this normal?! Or do I really suck?!

Is it because she's an only child? Is it because we're doing something wrong?

She can be Re.Lent.Less. I mean, this kid can go. She has the perseverance of Joan of Arc. (She was the woman who allowed herself to burn at the stake, right?! I mean, who has that kind of stick-to-it-iveness?! That Joan lady did and my daughter does!)

Sometimes I can't wait to get back to work. And that's saying something! Can anyone relate? Please tell me I'm not alone!

Roller Coaster... of love!

Remember that song? I'm not sure who did it originally, but I love a version done by the Red Hot Chili Peppers in 1996. Before you go thinking, "Damn, that girl's got a great memory!" remember the powers of Google, Wikipedia, and the internet in general.

Anyway, I'm realizing that parenting is like a roller coaster -- filled with ups and downs. It is one heck of a ride, scary at some points, exhilarating at others. It's amazing to me how one day Ryan, Steve and I are a perfectly happy, stable, contented family, and our house is filled with peace and joy. And the next...I have to stop myself from slapping her and punching him. Now again, before you go thinking, "Damn, that girl's violent!" keep in mind that I have never actually slapped or punched anyone. I talk a good game, but I am all talk and no action. (To my sisters, Lora, Sheryl, and Jennifer, if you are reading this, I don't count all the girl fights with you!)

This past weekend, Ryan was a pistol. A handful. More than a handful. In fact, I couldn't handle her at all. I was literally speechless and had no idea what to do. My bag of tricks had been done and not one worked. I lost my temper, finally, and yelled at her. That worked. Great. But then I felt like crap for yelling at her. So I sat down on the floor, said, "Come here, Ry. I want to tell you something. Number one, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn't have done that." I had a number two, which I can't remember now, but Ryan interjected with, "Number one, I'm sorry I spilled my milk and wasn't a good listener."

Wow. What a powerful moment. Out of some crappy parenting moments, some bright rays of sunshine. That stopped me in my tracks. The anger just deflated and I felt like I could breathe again. She climbed onto my lap. We hugged and kissed and vowed to do better and darn it, she's upheld her end of the bargain. Peace reigns. At the moment. For the moment. I am quite sure she will get a bug up her 31/2 year old butt soon and decide to drive me nuts again. And I am quite sure there will be plenty more moments where I have absolutely no idea what to do, but at least I know that underneath it all, there is love.

Is the roller coaster ride worth it? I think so. I am always nervous, giddy with excitement, anxious, before I get on a real roller coaster. I am convinced I'm going to plunge to a grisly death. But when I'm over, it is adrenaline pumping and I want to do it again. So how does my metaphor line up with being a mom? I was nervous, anxious, excited to be a mom. I've often thought she's going to be the death of me yet. But I would definitely do it all over again. Being Ryan's mom is worth the ride.

Stop judging each other, moms!

Because it's just not helpful. Lest you feel puzzled as to why I bring this up today, let me tell you.

I love to read. I read a lot. I get several magazine subscriptions each month. Most of them are about health, fitness, and how to shape your life. Except one. Us Weekly. Oh, yeah, I like my trash.

Each week there's a page of quotes uttered by celebrities. I'm not exactly sure of their purpose, but they usually amuse or enlighten in some way. At the very least, they offer insight into the minds of some overpaid people. This week, one really rankled me. Christina Applegate was responding to why she hadn't lost all of her baby weight. A stupid question, and a rude one at that, but her reply went a little something like this -- those girls, instead of spending time with their babies, are on a treadmill. Hmmm...

At first I thought, right, that's what you do. Watch what you eat and exercise. But then I realized that the unsaid implication is that "those girls" are lesser moms because they *gasp* exercise! Then my mind went to criticizing her, "Well, she's just making excuses for why she didn't lose weight."

And then I stopped myself. The whole reason I started this blog was to share experiences in a safe, nonjudgmental arena. I don't want to be judged by others and I should definitely keep my judgments to myself. (*Disclaimer --I hope you know I am not suggesting in any way that we support people who neglect or abuse their kids physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually or any other way. I actually don't know anyone who does that. Unless you count parents of some students! Do you? If so, refrain from judging, then call CPS.)

I love Christina Applegate, but I don't think her comment is fair, and neither was my internal comment. Not one of us has any idea what other women go through. We heap enough abuse on ourselves; we certainly don't need anyone else's help.

Why do we like to make ourselves feel like we're a "better" parent if we do or don't do something? I guess it's human nature, but although we may feel superior for a few minutes, we're really not. To quote John Lennon, "Imagine." Imagine what it would be like if we all supported each other and raised each other up. We don't have anything to lose by that. We would only become stronger. Imagine a world full of strong moms who have each other's backs. Imagine their happy, healthy children.

The moms I know are great. I learn from them and I hope they maybe gain something from me, too. We all make mistakes. I make them on a daily basis! But what I need and I bet other moms do too is to have someone to listen to them. A sympathetic ear can change everything. When I need or want advice, I ask for it. More than anything, I need to know I'm not alone in this job. I deliberately used the word job because it is work. A huge part of parenting is not fun.

The sooner we come to that realization, accept it, and embrace it -- yes, embrace it -- the better off we'll all be. Maybe we won't be skinny and lose all the baby weight, but we could gain the support of each other and self-acceptance.

What made me laugh this week!

I've shaken off the melancholy -- so easy to do on a Saturday morning when my daughter is shaking her groove thing to the Wii with Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have" fun, I've been to the gym and raised my endorphin levels, and most importantly, I haven't had to go to work and deal with stupid people :)

Thank you to everyone who messaged me, commented, or liked the last blog. It truly lifted my spirits and made me feel better! I haven't been on Facebook long, but I have yet to discover what is so evil about it; so far I've been better about keeping in touch and I've gotten support from people I really like. Don't know why I waited so long to try it. (Oh, yeah, right, it's because I was terrified every person I can't stand would know the intimate details of my life. If that's happening I don't know about it. Ignorance is bliss!)

The nightly humongous glasses of wine helped, as did the two Bud Light Lime-A-Ritas I tried last night. Yummy :) This paragraph is a quick pitch to advertise that delicious new concoction. I just "liked" it so you can click on the link from my page and see the shiny, silvery can of goodness and know what you're looking for at Wegmans. No thanks needed :)

Anyway, here's my list of things that made me laugh this week. In no particular order:

1. "Mom, I've got a situation." I reply, very concerned, "What is it, honey?" She says, "Daddy's a ghost!" Whew! For a minute there I was really worried!!

2. This is worth a Google -- ESPN's Friday Funnies -- I laughed so hard my gut ached. During a college football game in a clinch play, the referee plowed over the coach in his way. I don't know why, but watching the old guy go down again and again was hilarious! Love ESPN for replaying it several times so I could drag out my twisted enjoyment of others' pain :)

3. Thanks to the guy at the gym who made me laugh like an 8th grade boy because he farted while on the elliptical. Even now, as I type, I'm giggling.... I know, I know, but I can't help it. When someone parts your hair so to speak it's funny! As long as you're not directly downwind :)

4. And finally, my favorite. Saved the best for last. True story. Thanks Matt Lindstrom for this week's heartiest belly laugh. He told me the story of a friend of his. We'll call him Daddy because I don't know his name. His two sons, Frank and Furter, (clearly I don't know their names, either!) go to the bathroom at a restaurant and emerge arguing. Typical boys. The older one, Frank, was picking on Furter because he had dried his hands on his shirt and left wet hand prints. Furter whined to Daddy, "He's making fun of me because he says the hand prints look funny." Daddy says, "Well, they kinda do look funny." Furter looks at Frank, looks at Daddy, looks back at Frank, and back at Daddy, and says, "Fuck you both." (Brief pause while I laugh once again...) After he drags the delinquent children to the car and explains to his wife why it was indeed their children disrupting the entire restaurant, he tells the wife that Furter insists he heard it from the babysitter, a 60+, kindly, blue-hair who most likely did not spew the f-bomb at daycare, but nonetheless, the next day, Daddy calls blue-hair and shares the story. She indeed says, "Oh no, it wasn't me!" But when Daddy persists by saying, "Well, he said you were driving down the road, on your phone, and he heard you tell someone 'Fuck you, both!'" Ohhh, well, then, "Oh, yeah, that was me. Whoops." Nice :)