I encountered a Mom today who had to be tough with her son.  He showed up to Jiu Jitsu with puffy red eyes and streaks on his face.  Like a "man" though, he claimed allergies, and pressed on.

It broke her heart more than it did his.  She spent most of the evening nose deep in a parenting book, hoping to gain the affirmation she needed to justify her reactions.

It was pretty obvious.  

I didn't say anything, sometimes it is just better to pretend all is right with the world. 

She then opened up.  I think she needed to just vent.  Im good at listening, especially if you repeat, a lot..

We swapped difficult mommy moments, and then agreed that childbirth was no where near painful as it is to have to discipline your child.  What sucks, is childbirth only happens once for each child.  But discipline is a long and gruesome torture that follows.....  The kid will eventually forget what they got disciplined for, but the Mom, she will be haunted with it for eternity. 

I totally know how she feels.  It is absolutely unbearable to see my child hurt.  Even more so when it is me that is causing the pain.

But, at the same time, I have to keep it in check.  Sometimes my kid(s) will need to be upset, angry, hurt, frustrated......  It is part of life. 

I remember being mad at my parents. 

There was that big argument in 1990 when my Dad wanted me to buy this atrocious jacket.  It was a Pea Coat, navy blue.  At the time my 11 year old behind was 'like OMG DAD, you canNOT expect me to go to school wearing that!"...........  I own one now, LOVE it, and accessorize it with and awesome cream colored scarf, red or yellow if I'm feeling bold.  

I won that argument, and found myself in what can only be described as the 1980s on crack.  It was graphic, geometric and florescent.  It matched my obnoxious Aqua Net bangs and Keds perfectly....  And was "lost" the following year, when the 1990s hit and it was all about grunge.....

Do I remember the time I drove my friend's car into the light post in our yard?  Sure I do.  But Ill play stupid if you ask.  I have to pretend to be perfect to keep my kids on their toes for now.  When they have kids of their own, oh heck yeah.  That story comes out of the mothballs with "improvements"......  I grew up with knowledge of the DeLorean...... Back To The Future Baby......

This morning I argued with Izzy as she attempted to justify Ballet Flats with Sweat Pants.  Oh Hell to the F-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.  I get that sweat pants are comfy, BUT I am not raising my child to become the next poster child for the People of Wal-Mart.  A Mother must have standards.  Fortunately, mine are clearly lined out.......  And her skinny jeans were recenlty washed.

That was followed with a stand off in the kitchen. Ike wanted chocolate, it was 6:30 in the morning, and we have standards......  Well, that and I had no chocolate to concede with.

There was also the Homework argument.  "WHY didn't you finish your Math when you made me remember the damn Algebra lastnight?"  Heck NO, Im not going to write you a note stating you had other "obligations"....

"No, you cannot commandere your brother's legos in order to build a megatropolis, only to melt it down with matches your friend gave you, while explaining how to mask the smell of melting plastic.......  And WHAT DO YOU MEAN "your brush is broken"?!??!?!?!?!?!?!"

What made me feel good this evening, said friend who was down about being tough on her kid.  Well, I'm not the only one arguing with their kids about grades, behavior, body odor.........  She is right there with me.  And she prefers white, so I don't have to share my Garnacha with her.......

Whew!

Happy Birthday!

To my little Brother.

Fifteen years ago, my little Brother was born.  He was quite the surprise....  I personally was approaching the big ol' number 18.  My parents were approaching that phase in life that meant they were no longer engulfed in diapers or macaroni and cheese. 

Honestly, can anyone actually leave Macaroni and cheese?  It's just awesome.

Regardless, the little dude was born.  And when he was born, it was revealed that he had Spina Bifida.  He had a big bubble formed at the base of his spine.  It was pretty serious.  And the prognosis was less than stellar.

From there, surgery was done.  And then it was basically wait and see what happens.  Surely, you understand, I have truncated about 3 years...... I want to focus on the amazing, not the anxiety.

Surprisingly, the little dude did well.  What was expected, he over came.  What was never anticipated, he accomplished.

The little dude had no clue that he had mountains to climb, he just kind of did his own thing.  He left us floored, and grateful.  And he still does.

Miracles happen.

Whether you are a believer or not, having the little dude in your life did prove miracles exist.

And today, we have a mouthy horomonal teen.  And you know, I think we are all exceptionally grateful and relieved that we get to deal with puberty as it is intended.  Body Odor, Mouthy Altercations and all.....

Happy Birthday to my Little Brother.  It is not expressed daily (because there are no words), you simply are our miracle!  We love you!

What You Have Here

Is a little boy who is giddy.

After many months of watching from behind the chain link.  Moops has finally made it onto the floor with Alex. 

His first night was on Wednesday. 

He was so excited that he burst into tears, just as we loaded up into the car.  Because he hadn't learned everything yet.

I had to promise that he could go again on Thursday.

Thursday afternoon, he arrives home from school.  Moops is holding his hand, and has a whole scenario planned out for when I ask how his day was.

First there was an altercation......  On the playground.  It resulted in a tender palm.  Moops feels more lessons in Jiu Jitsu will better prepare him for any future altercations.

And then there was the "worst case scenario" argument.  What if, just what if, Moops found himself surrounded by hobos that wanted to take his lunch.  He needs to know Jiu Jitsu, in order to fight off the hobos, so they don't take his lunch.  Especially since his lunch box is not only camouflage, but also his favorite color.  And he doesn't want to risk someone else eating his grape tomatoes.

His closing was what sealed it though.  How is he supposed to get defend himself when he is in the Army, if he loses his gun?

Well?

I told Moops he was going to end up as a lawyer.  He then asked "are their lawyers in the Army".  I said "Yes, there are". 

He responded with, "OK, Ill be a lawyer, but only if it is an Army Lawyer".

I would like to dedicate this post to my dear friend, the one who is named for the month she was born in.  One more semester to go girly.  One more semester!

My Daughter is like a Dandelion.

She is whimsical, delicate, and just sort of wisps about.  Her heart is light and happy, and she stands straight and tall. 

And she repopulates like a weed.  Little bits of her pop up all over, a pile of jeans in the bathroom.  Her book bag overflows and cascades onto the foyer floor.  And her toys just sort of crop up randomly in patches all through out the house.  If I am not particularly diligent, I will find that at any given time her tiny self has claimed yet another room for her to overcome.

She is cute and overwhelming.  And she kind of flourishes where ever she finds herself.



It's A Battle Of Wills

Here at our house. 

The hill Izzy has chosen to die on, would be that of the chores she allows to pile up.  Dishes, can take anywhere from 30 minutes to all night.

Tuesday morning began with a march out to the front curb to retrieve our Garbage can.  Had she done this preceeding night, when she was originally supposed to, she would have avoided the pouring rain that crept in early before dawn. 

She has counter attacked with cleaning out her backpack, on the playroom floor.  She did this just before the bus came for her this morning.  There was paper, candy wrappers, broken pencils everywhere!  It was horrific.

I retaliated by taking a Prisoner of War......  Her Social Studies Study Guide, for the open book test she has today.



Please note, she left it on the floor, amongst the debris that exploded from her backpack.  It's not like I intentionally took it away.  I just simply made no effort to get it to her.

Her computer was also captured after the dust settled and I noticed she had left it turned on, under some rubble, on the couch. 

I foresee a siege on the horizon....

In Other News.....

I was able to extend a helping hand in the land of many offices crammed into one building. 

After a meeting at work, I was headed to the car.  Ahead of me was a man who hobbled slowly on crutches.  He really looked like he could use some assistance in opening the door to the building. 

So, I asked him if I could open the door for him.  He paused, let out a huge sigh of relief, and said "That would be great!  Thanks."

I proceeded to pass him, so I could get the door. 

That is when he started to laugh and shake his head.

And that would be because I am also on crutches!

Fortunately, I can maneuver pretty well with just one crutch.  We both were able to exit the building in a safe and organized manner. 

Good thing today is Frieday!  Pun intended.

Even better, we have a three day weekend!  I intend to spend my weekend clearing the rubble that is too many toys from the kids' room.  And maybe some laundry, so we have clean clothes to wear when we are again, released back into the general population that is both work and school.

I think there will be wine involved as well.

And maybe something with chocolate...

Murphy's Law

Murphy LOVES our house.  There is just so much that he can accomplish here, it is like his own little OCD Paradise.  And of course, there is always an opportunity for him to practice his own version of Devine Intervention.  And he never tires of rearranging things, so I spend the better part of my life searching for what I KNOW I put where I thought it would be.....

Previous to becoming "broken", I decided 2012 was going to be the year that my kids become more self sufficient.  I have two reasons for this.  First, one day they will all be adults, and well I will have then started my "retirement" aka run away to a far away land where dirty laundry is magically returned to me clean, and a smoldering SpanishVinyard Dude shamelessly flirts with me as he refills my glass with his greatest of Garnacha.  Shoot, who am I kidding?  No smoldering Spanish Vineyard Dude is necessary, just an open tab.....The Hubs has his own fantasy, I don't begrudge him.  I think it consists of the movie set for Fight Club and Bruce Lee getting his butt kicked by The Hubs..  And maybe a knife or sword as well.

Second.  Well, my older two are entering the phase in life where body odor becomes, uhhhhhh, pungent.  And well, I'm tired of washing all the clothes that are really clean, but they are too lazy to actually put away, after they pulled it out, after I had put it away. 

And there is actually a third.  That would be, that I am hoping that maybe they will be a little more diligent about not making a mess in the first place, if they find themselves cleaning it up anyways.  This is a slim chance, I know, but I am also deranged and cling to whatever hope I can muster......

This is where Murphy comes charging through the door, and he was so excited about helping me out, that he made it my Christmas Present!  He was giddy, like a teenager who just got his license, giddy.  There was no stopping him.  And the impact was instantaneous. 

Thanks to Murphy, I am now broken.  And it is going to be weeks before I am "normal" again. 

And when I mean broken, I don't mean chipped tooth or finger in a splint broken.  I mean, needs crutches and looks like an idiot in public broken.

The good news is, I will heal.......  Eventually. 

The bad news is, until I can walk again.  The rest of the family has to pitch in and pick up the slack.  The Hubs has been awesome about this.  The kids have been, great, sometimes.

This wasn't exactly my vision, when I decided that the kids needed to be more self sufficient.  I was hoping for a little more control and opportunity to micromanage them.  I didn't envision crutches or me being confined to a very uncomfortable chair through out the day....

Instead, I stuck on a chair/couch/bed, while they figure it out on their own.  This does not bode well for my micromanaging personality.  Nor does it bode well for me getting things done myself.  There has been a lot of drive-thru take out over the last week, and canned soup, and chips......  And a lot of reading....  And maybe some really obnoxious texting to my friends and family.

There are also awkward situations, such as my need to go to the office, and no one being around to help me with the door.  Yeah, that is one of those situational comedic events, where you show up back to work from lunch, and find a woman trapped between the door and door frame, with her crutches out of reach, and her cell phone ringing annoyingly to the tune of Britney Spears BEFORE she went crazy, because that is the ring tone for her crazy friend that doesn't grasp the concept of voice mail.

And there is the frustration, when nature calls, and you can't just hop up and run to the restroom.  Instead, there is careful planning and a sort of hasty attempt at hobbling, and a very panicked moment at the end.....

And finally.  There is Grocery Shopping that needs to be done on Thursday, along with the purchase of a Birthday Gift for a Slumber Party on Friday.  And I still need to make it to the book store to pick up the book I need to learn how not to be a Dummy At Something I really want to be good at, but held off until after the Holidays to tackle.......