Nov 20, 2012
My Husband and I chose to steal away this Thanksgiving to the beach at Ocean City, Maryland for a two-day holiday. The little boy will be with us but it will be the last “vacation” where he’s the only child. Due date is February 27th. A Butterball turkey scored at the Giant for $1.19 lb inspired an early feast this past Sunday complete with mashed potatoes, gravy,whole cranberry sauce, and apple pie. Yum.
I had every intention to set a beautiful stylized table and take pictures. I started on Thursday but each attempt I made to artfully display stuff ended in my unhappiness. And suddenly, it was Sunday and I was cooking. So my boy and I went outside and picked mums and to fill Grandmom’s vase and the two cornucopia vases I love. The freshly polished silver candlestick holders remained empty as I’d also forgotten to buy tapers.
Things never turn out the way you expect.
Today, I needed a few items at the grocery store and dashed off with my freshly snacked boy. Except, he was just awful. I had spent all day repainting his room and I was exhausted. This child was pestering me for stuff left and right and sassing me. He even hit me in the stomach. Not cool. I didn’t recognize him and my supply of patience was fast exhausted. When we were almost done, I asked if he needed to use the toilet. His edge was suspiciously familiar. He denied and declined the opportunity. Again at the checkout, same deal. By the time we reached the car, I asked that he not speak to me until we got home.
And what do you know that rotten little egg did when we got into the house? He went and peed. I was done. I asked him to stand right there as I explained that he just earned five negative points for lying and three negative points for sassing me. His point chart had been zeroed out. Big goose egg went on today’s space. And I asked that, while I made the dinner, he sit and write me out an apology for all the things he’d done to upset me. And this is a picture of what he presented to me.
As I said, things never turn out the way you expect.
I hope everyone gets the nice kind of little unexpected gift for this holiday. Keep your eyes and ears open for it.
Jul 20, 2012
One school day, I reached down into my kid’s book bag and pulled our a triangular scrap of paper. I asked what’s this. Oh something I wrote. And I asked him to read it to me. I was more than blown away.
This is the translation.
Black vs. White
“Ya’ ready?” said White. ”Yeah!” said Black.
“Cloud!” said White. “Mist!” said Black.
They both fainted. “Nobody won!” said the announcer.
When I asked him about the story, he said this, “I like that nobody won, he said. It’s fair. And I don’t want to make White look bad. Or Black.” Out of the mouth of babes.
I love my kid and I love the world I live in. I read this and it makes me hope that our children will make the brave choices. They will choose to not make the differences of people or cultures or opinions a personal problem they need to avenge. And they will look further than themselves and their bank accounts to the greater world beyond them and make choices that embody compassion and integrity. And make a living doing so.
Our children are our hope. And will learn as we do. You can screw the small stuff up but the big stuff is what we choose to courageously stand for every day. Start by not buying stuff sold by people who are evil or not local if you can help it. Or take your kid to the voting booth with you. Or just stop playing the parent role and be a respectful equal to them for a little while. Ask them what they value and what they want to do about it. The empowerment and self-esteem of our children will rescue us from our present world predicament.
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May 6, 2012
Why is it instilled in my brain, as in many others’, that it’s not OK to ask for help? You’re supposed to tough it out. Don’t show you don’t know. There’s all sorts of shame in that game. There have been many occasions when I needed help but didn’t ask for it. And had I known I was worth the asking, life may have been easier at those times.
Last week, I empowered my 7-year-old kid to ask for the help he needed. So distraught before a little league game, he broke down sobbing about his fear to go up and bat. There were too many voices in his head he said. Those of the well-meaning Dads (including his own) and coaches telling him how to stand and hold the bat and swing. I’ve pitched a tennis ball to him. I knew he could actually make contact more than half the time.
So I said, “You have to go to your game because you’re part of a team and they’re counting on you. I can make sure you have a chance to ask your coach to help you. That’s his job.” I was making all of this up but it sounded pretty good to me. Later, at the park on our way to the dug out , a mean little teammate said to my kid, “You better get a hit today”. He didn’t see me standing there. When I caught his eye, I said, “Nice way to support your teammate, kid.” It was the coach’s step son. My kid didn’t flinch.
Sometimes we need to just hear ourselves ask for help. Or hear ourselves say, “You can’t treat me like that”. When we hear ourselves standing up for us, respecting ourselves, we say, “Hey, I’m worth it”. We need to believe in our own worth and prove it to ourselves. The alternative is to prove we aren’t worth it and say nothing. When we say “it’s not worth it”, we really say we aren’t worth it.
At the next game, my husband called the coach over and my kid asked the coach for help. And he was glad to oblige, relieved I’d venture, and pitched to him before the game. The more the boy’s out on that field, the more he belongs. Of course he bats last, but he’s getting the hang of the whole thing. And the last game, he got three singles. He feels entitled to the support of the team and the coach. Shouldn’t we all have that feeling ?
Apr 24, 2012
I really wanted to just get on with some normality yesterday and today. After all the drama, I wanted some same old. No “thought thought” I told the husband.
So yesterday, I made granola, pita chips, and brown rice. I ironed mainly long sleeve shirts Mark just put into the deep storage closet today. I labeled and sorted my clothing to help make me feel more ready for the unknown days and weather to come.
Unfortunately, I also balanced the checkbook. I discovered, as if I didn’t know, we’re still in a financial sink hole after the taxes got paid. I feel sick to not be contributing monetarily. Except I keep our heads above water and our credit scores clean. I had put aside the school pictures order for the next check to come in. But then I realized yesterday was picture day. I began to curse and had to run a check up to the school. The son got pulled out of class to get his picture taken and then go to recess. It better be a good picture.
I kept thinking, what would I be doing to make money that wouldn’t take me away too much? I used to be a valuable money-making member of society. Now, recently, I had to prove to the powers that be and decide, I was actually a real member of America’s in-crowd.
Back to normal. Today, I went for a run. I haven’t done that in a couple of weeks. I did all the laundry and folded it and put it away. I went out in the backyard with my kid and made an effort to boost his esteem by having him prove to himself he could hit a tennis ball with his bat. He got a hold of a couple. The unloaded dishes and made the dinner. My exhaustion says I contributed.
We stay at home moms have a hard time valuing our contributions. We feel powerless to make the money but we manage it. We provide all comforts and services that make the home not just a house. I thought that if we all actually carried as much weight of the world as we think we do, the world would then weigh nearly nothing.
I want to blame myself somehow for not having healthcare or savings. For not being a financial wizard. But that’s ridiculous. So I have requested some research into folding some business debt into larger loans and hopefully empowering me to feel less like a loser mommy and more like a winner Mommy. When I feel good, the boy feels good. I got a little of myself and my confidence back today. But I feel I’ve a ways to go.
Nov 23, 2011
Alas, sometimes we are forced to grow up, like it or not. From cute shrieking toddlers to rude six year olds, we proceed. And today, we are off to the dentist to have Eamon’s baby tooth yanked from his mouth. As obstinate as my son ,the baby tooth refuses to leave even though his adult tooth has risen from his jaw in all its glory right behind it. Like it or not, that bad boy’s coming out. And of course I promised him a toy from K-mart for his trauma. Shot next week’ll warrant an ice cream. Happy Wednesday before Thankgiving.
Post Mortem : You can cry and still be brave. My little man lived to tell. In fact , shopping for a toy in the K-mart, he’d forgotten the whole incident. When queried later, he said it wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be.