Favorite Photo Friday

Tanner Michael - July 13, 2011

Amazed.  That is the only way to describe how I felt when I took this picture.  And proud.  Yes, I was crying as I snapped the photo and had to explain to Tanner that they were happy tears.  

This one has put me through the ringer this summer.  No doubt.  But then he goes and does something like this ...

Tim has been trying to get Tanner to ride his bike forever.  Every time he'd come out of the garage with a different riding toy (other than his bike) I would grow and more irritated.  No, I do not know how to ride a bike.  All the more reason for me to want both of my kids to know how.  I know how much they will be left out if they don't learn.  And then, when they are my age, people will crack jokes about them every chance they get.  (I know, I have great friends, right?!)  

So tow days ago, in the blazing Georgia heat, Tim took the training wheels off.  He gave Tanner one little push to get him started, and he hasn't stopped since.  He's only had one minor wreck that didn't even draw blood.  And he is so incredibly proud of himself.  As he should be.

And he cracks jokes with everyone else now about how Mommy doesn't know how to ride a bike and he does.  "And I'm still 4!"

Lovely.

I'm so proud of my monkey.

I Need a New Approach and I'm Open to Suggestions

I'm going to write this post while the feelings are still fresh.  I considered just writing it down and throwing it away, just to vent, but now I feel like I need to share it in the hopes that someone out there can shed some light on this subject.

In the recent months of crazies hurting babies, I've grown very weary of people.  While I've grown very weary of people I don't necessarily know, I've become very lenient with my own children.  I should keep reminding myself (every second) that they are only children.  They do not know the world like I do; nor do they understand the bad things that are out there.  They've learned about "stranger danger" and "good touch, bad touch," but they don't know all the statistics that support child abuse by people that the children do know.

Anyway, where is this coming from?  I just experienced the second incident this week of losing my kids.  No, we weren't in a department store or at a corn maze.  We were simply in our neighborhood.  OK, technically, they weren't "lost," as Kendall is quick to point out.  They knew exactly where they were. (They also knew they were exactly somewhere they weren't supposed to be. But I digress.)

We live in a small community -- 20 homes, to be exact.  Tim and I were the first couple on Creekwood Lane, and I have enjoyed getting to know the people who have moved in since we did.  We have a good number of kids -- not too many and not too few -- and all the parents are pretty good about watching each others kids when needed.  I feel like I am one of the more strict parents when it comes to certain rules -- I prefer that my kids not go inside anyone else's house.  I prefer that they not eat and drink at others' homes.  I prefer that they not play in the back yard of others' homes.  I don't feel like these are ridiculous requests, and I hope I don't come off as "the mean mom" when I don't allow other neighborhood children to do those things at my house.  Anyway, last weekend my kids decided to completely disobey one of the strict rules when they ventured into a neighbor's house.  The kids weren't even home, so I'm not sure why they thought they could go inside.  And they were innocently enough playing a video game and visiting when I went to drag them out by their ears bring them home, but it still left me feeling very uneasy.  Without scaring them, I tried to explain why is wasn't OK for them to be in the house when  we had no idea where they were.  They kept saying, "But we know them, Mom," and I wasn't sure how to counter that argument.  Tim and I finally settled it with, "If they are in the front yard, you can go visit."

Done.

Until this morning.  The daily ritual has pretty much become 1) Get up, 2) eat breakfast, 3) make beds, 4) go outside and play before it gets so darn hot.  This morning was no different.  And I have some consignment sale stuff to get in order, so I was going to clean out drawers and closets while the kids rode their bikes in the culdesac.  Naturally, as is usually the case, Tanner came in about 7 minutes into the task and asked if they could go ask Loren to play (our new neighbor who is the perfect age of 6 - right between Kendall and Tanner).  It was only 9:30, so I told them to just ride and if she saw them and wanted to come out, she would.  I peeked outside a few times and saw them riding in the road, so I figured it was all clear.  About 20 minutes went by before Tanner came in and asked if they could go ask if some other neighbors could play. I said no, simply because I didn't want them riding down the hill when I wasn't outside.  I also know that most of the dads are home on Saturday, and many of the families in our neighborhood like to do family time on Saturdays.  10 minutes later I looked outside and saw no sign of my kids.  I walked down to Loren's, but I know that her parents are much like Tim and myself, so my kids certainly wouldn't be in her house.  I put Snickers on her leash and we walked down the street.  I found their bikes in another neighbor's driveway (the one I specifically said no to) just as the mom pulled in the driveway.  2 of her 3 kids climbed out of the car, so then I was wondering what in the world my kids were doing down there, in the house, when only 1 of the kids was home.

Anyway, lonnnnnnng story-short, we have a new set of neighbors on the front of the street.  My kids had taken it upon themselves to, not only disobey the fact that I said no to going down the street, but had also traveled back up the street to a person's house I HAVE NEVER MET IN MY ENTIRE LIFE AND WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO IDENTIFY IN A LINE UP SHOULD I HAVE TO.

OK, so I knocked on the door and introduced myself.  The mom was nice and sweet, and they have 2 gorgeous Weimerieners, and they have 2 kids (ages 7 and 9), and she gladly sent my two devil children angels out the door with Oreo crumbs on their faces.  I know I probably came off as rude and unfriendly, but I was so angry that I couldn't think straight.  Luckily, I held it in until she shut the front door.  I attempted to keep my cool as I told the kids to collect their bikes and helmets and follow me home.  I then told them, very calmly, that they would be spending the rest of the day inside the house because they deliberately disobeyed me.

"Well, I'm coming back outside after lunch.  I don't care what you say."

Excuse me???????

And that was the 4 year old.

Then the 7 year old said, "Mom, we just wanted to play.  And we know them.  It doesn't matter if you don't know them."

As I type it, her words don't sound so bad, but it was the tone.

I started to argue and explain why (again) it was not OK for her to be in this person's house, but I just gave up.  I don't know how else to explain it.  So I just walked.  And when they complained about not being able to push their bikes up the hill, I told them to leave them.  (Of course, they didn't.)  When they asked why they couldn't come back out after lunch, I told them because I said so.  Once they started arguing, I was seeing red and had no more words for them.

And then, when we entered the house, Kendall said, "Well, I'm going back out anyway."

If I could have reached her, I would have slapped her little 7-year-old cheek.

Seriously.

How did I get like this?  When did she get like this?  Have 7-year-old's always ben his sassy?  I hate that the thought even crossed my mind, but nothing else seems to be working with these two.  I know I love them, they obviously have no idea how much.  I know I shouldn't be a helicopter parent and follow them around everywhere, but when they get a tiny bit of freedom, they don't use it wisely.  I don't want them to be fearful of the world, but I want them to understand how serious I am about following the rules. And as I slapped peanut butter on their sandwiches and listened to them talk about how mean I am, tears welled up in my eyes.  Is this how it has to be?  In order to get some order and obedience, do I have to be mean and angry and nasty all the time?

Ugh.  Then, as we were eating lunch and both kids kept saying, "Why do you always make this?  We don't even like this," I just started crying.  And I still can't stop.

There are only so many times in a day when I can feel like a failure.  I know I'm not a failure -- but it feels that way sometimes.  I mean, in a course of 1 hour I ignored my kids, lost them, and then wanted to slap them when they ran off and talked back.  If I was more hands-on, I would know where they are all the time.  If I paid more attention to them, they wouldn't be so bored.  If I had fun things for them to do and cool places for them to go, they wouldn't be constantly asking to go bug the other kids.  I just wish I didn't always have to say, "No."  But I also know that it is my job to say no sometimes.  Until their own brains can decide if it's a good choice or a bad choice.

But I fear, from their recent endeavors, that they may never know the difference.

I'm thinking maybe I should just get lost for a little while and see how they feel about it.

Favorite Photo Friday

Tanner Michael

July 2011

We've had a rough summer, Tanner and I.  I'm pretty sure he's ready to go back to school -- he misses his friends, especially having other boys to play with.  He's always been my really good sleeper, so the fact that he's waking in the night now is a little strange.  Yesterday, I forced him to stay in his room for some quiet time (for Mommy!), and when I noticed how quiet it was in there, I opened his door and found this.  He didn't even have his sound machine on.  There were toys all over the floor, like he started out playing but just gave up.  I'm sure Lovey was calling his name, and once his head hit the pillow, it was all over.  Notice - he doesn't even have his thumb in his mouth.

Even if we've had some rough times these few weeks, I adore him.  Every single smelly, whiny, precious inch of him.

Bad Habits

I have a list of bad habits that I wish I could get rid of.  None of them are health-inhibiting or terribly awful -- at least not at first glance.  But still, they are habits that I truly wish I could stop or get rid of for the betterment of everyone around me.  I fear some of them may be habits that the kids are picking up, so I need to work on them.

I have a potty mouth.  It's really strange, but I have begun cussing more in the last few months than I did years ago before I had kids.  (Related?  Maybe!)  When I was teaching 6th grade, I concentrated on watching my mouth.  I began replacing dirty words with others, like "fudge" for the F word and "dad-nabbit" for GD. But recently I've caught myself using the bad words instead.  Why the change?  I'm not sure.  Perhaps I use the words to prove a point.  Maybe they make me feel grown up.  Maybe they make me feel cool or like I'm still part of the in-crowd (much like middle school when I first started using them around my friends).  Anyway, from my previous posts, you can see the the kids are starting to pick up on some of these words and the impact they can have, so I better start watching my potty mouth!

I complain.  A lot.  I am certainly not what one might call a glass-is-half-full person.  Perhaps its the worrier in me, but I tend to see the negative in most situations.  I've always been a 'fraidy-cat, but I've generally kept my thoughts to myself.  I know it drives Tim crazy, and I'm afraid it may also be affecting the kids.  So I'm gonna work on either a) seeing things more optimistically, or b) keeping my thoughts to myself.

I'm lazy.  There's no other word for it.  I sit around and complain, climbing on and off the scale as if the walk to the bathroom knocked off an amazing 10 pounds.  I talk a good game -- I can tell you how to count your points and eat good foods, but I don't do it myself.  I used to have such a good workout ethic -- I'm not sure if I've just gotten too comfortable.  Or maybe I just like wine too much.  I'm not sure.  But I am going to start working out again on Monday.  I AM!

I like TV too much.  Don't get me wrong -- I like reading too.  In fact, I'm quite a bookworm.  But especially during the fall season, poor Tim is confined to his recliner watching a plethora of smut TV.  I feel for him. I do.  But I just can't stop watching all these awesome shows.  Or even if they aren't awesome, I still want to see them.  Our DVR has been taken over by these shows for months on end.  Luckily for me, Tim also likes some of them (Hell's Kitchen, House, The Event), but he still has to suffer through some others (Desperate Housewives, Grey's Anatomy).  Poor guy.  I'm not planning on fixing this one, though.  So hopefully some new "good" shows will be out this fall. ;0)  The new Zooey Deschanel show looks promising ...

I gossip.  You know the saying, "If someone talks about someone else in front of you, they will also talk about you"?  It's true.  Wait, don't think that means I'm talking about you.  But I could.  There are many times when I hear words coming out of my mouth and think, "Who are you to judge her, Judgey McJudgerson?"  I've never walked in anyone else's shoes, so I truly have no idea what anyone else is going through.  And I get so mad when people talk about me and my family -- the money we spend, the places we visit, the problems we have -- so I should really be better about not talking about others.

I'm addicted to the Internet.  Specifically, Facebook.  I think this is probably the one that drives everyone crazy more than anything else.  Getting an iPhone and putting the Facebook app on it was probably my first mistake.  Now I can keep up with all 367 of my friends whenever I want.  Because I was so concerned about their lives before they were my "friend" on Facebook, right?  I've tried to be better about sharing my every move on my status updates over the last few weeks -- I mean, who really cares if I'm doing laundry or taking a pee?  I think Facebook just gives SAHM's a chance to feel connected to the outside world.  As opposed to getting out in the outside world.  Which all goes back to being lazy.  Or a worrier.

Last, I'm content. OK, so this may not be a bad habit, per se.  But it does keep me from trying new things and going out on a limb.  This will be year 3 of job seeking for this momma.  I scour the school district websites daily, hoping for a chance to get in somewhere.  But then a portion of me is content just being at home for one more year.  I could go back to school or explore a new career path; but that requires initiative and money.  Then all the logistics of child care and such come into play.  I know other people do it (work 9-5 and have their kids in school and day care), but becoming a teacher was my guarantee that I wouldn't have to worry about any of that.  And I am truly content (not happy, which is different) with where I am right now.

Of course, that may change when both kids are at school all day long and all I have to do is sit around, be lazy, watch TV, eat bad foods, and complain about how bored I am. ;)

In the Middle

Any "The Middle" fans out there?  I may be catching this train a little late, but Tim and I caught a rerun last night while waiting for the kids to hit the hay.  It was the one where the youngest boy won't cross the bridge because he's afraid the bridge will crumble and they will drown after lake water rushes into the car and they are unable to get out.  Anyway, both parents try multiple times to get him to cross the bridge.  They try all kinds of tactics -- tough love, bribery, whining, threatening, etc.  But, in the end, they decide that they have not failed -- they have, in fact, won because they have raised an independent thinker who is strong-minded and does not give in easily to the advances from others.

So after watching that episode last night (and deciding that my family is more like a sitcom than I previously imagined), I found myself relating rather well to the mom on the show.  I find myself trying to talk to my kids and convince them that my decision is the best one.  I often want them to understand why my choices are wise ones and how silly their feelings and worries are when compared to the big picture of life.  We have had a tumultuous spring and summer, complete with thunderstorms and lightning, and both of my kids are afraid of both.  I have tried wishing it away (their fear), explaining it away, etc, and Tim has tried threatening it away.  To no avail, I found myself in bed with both kids night before last during our most recent storm.

You can imagine my relief when there was no thunder or rain last night at bed time.

So we put the kids to bed at a relatively early time (8:30 or so), and they slumbered soundly for a long time.  I slept rather well, and I'm assuming Tim did too.

Then, at 5:30 AM, Tanner comes racing in our bedroom and slams his face down on my side of the bed. Unaware of the time, I tried to turn and scoop him up, only to get clipped in the nose by his arm.  Apparently he was trying to climb in my bed ... not just wake me up.  Climbing in Mommy's bed is a big no-no in this house, and he knows it.  So I picked him up, all 50 lbs (not including the weight of his 4 stuffed animals and 2 blankets) of him, and we tiptoed back to his bed so as to not wake Sissy.

I never looked at the clock.

After I tucked him back in and checked under the bed for monsters and explained that the thump he heard upstairs was, in fact, not a monster, but was, instead, Sugar jumping off the bed (I guessed), I yawned my way back to my bed.  I glanced at the clock and realized it was 5:30 and noticed Tim was already gone for the day.  Just as I settled back into a good REM cycle, I heard a blood-curdling scream coming from down the hall.

Mind you, if I heard it over the sound machine, dog snores, and super-sonic fan, it was really loud.  Tanner doesn't have a monitor (his 7 year old sister does, for some reason), but he hasn't required one in years.  So I went racing down the hallway, hoping to get to him before he woke Kendall.

No such luck.

Kendall was in her doorway, screaming, "What in the world is wrong with you???????  Why do you have to wake up the entire house, Tanner??!!"

Ugh.

I told K to get back in bed while I attempted to calm the screaming coming from Tanner's mouth.

You see, he is so frickin' stubborn!  He argued with me and argued with me -- about the light and the fan and the sounds and the monster under the bed and the clicking noises -- until I was ready to scream.

And then I did scream.

I tried every thing the parents tried on "The Middle."

"Tanner, we have a big day tomorrow.  You need to get some rest."

"Tannerbug, Mommy wants you to stop being a baby and be a big almost-5-year-old boy.  Go back to sleep."

"Tanner, if you don't stop screaming and stay in your bed, I'm going to shut your door and lock it.  Is that what you want?"

"Tanner, I'm going to spank you if you get up again."

"Tanner, you aren't going to get any of the toys in your birthday bucket if you don't go back to sleep."

"Tanner, you're going to have to take a nap tomorrow if you don't sleep."

"Tanner, please let Mommy go back to bed."

Then, finally, 30 minutes later, Tanner was in Mommy's bed.  Along with his sister.  And then the sun was coming up, so no one went back to sleep.

Yes, I gave in.

Again.

I guess I'm just lucky that my kids have a nice balance between their two parents.  Tim is the tough love dad, and I'm the push over.

Which is equally balanced by the fact that Tim is the fun dad and I'm the mean mommy.

Doesn't make much sense, does it?

But at least we meet somewhere in the middle when it counts.

Favorite Photo Friday

Kendall Loses Her 2nd Tooth

June 2011

Shortly after this picture was taken, Kendall was watching herself talk in the mirror.  When she spotted me watching her with a goofy grin on my face, this is what she said.

"What?!  Why are you watching me?"

"I am just watching you and looking at how different you look without your two front teeth."

(While watching herself talk, with attitude) "What?  Do I not look like a child anymore?"

Oh, Honey, you have no idea.  

And just an hour ago, after playing outside and being "the oldest girl in the neighborhood," Kendall really let it show just how much she's grown up.

Tanner was whining (which is the usual case these days), and Kendall said, oh so sweetly, "Tanner, you better stop or some one's gonna kick your ass."

Ummmmm, hunh?

What in the world is going on??  I mean, this little girl has been so completely awesome this summer.  Perhaps she just felt like she needed to show how "grown up" she is around the younger girls in the neighborhood.  I don't know.  Now I feel like I need to go talk to the other mom and explain that, should Loren belt out a "shit" or "dammit," she is simply doing what she heard from the much older, much wiser Kendall.

Of course, I stopped her immediately with a, "No, Ma'am, you do not say that word."  

To which she replied, "OK, Mom," like it was nothing.

So maybe she didn't mean anything by it.  But we will be having a talk.  She hasn't used a bad word (I mean, for goodness sake, she thinks stupid and hate are bad words.) since she was 2 or so and yelled, "Dammit," after hearing me say it when I was frustrated.

Did she hear this from me?  Perhaps.  I mean, it is possible.  Ass is not my word of choice, though.  So that makes me wonder if she heard it on TV or something.

Something to think about.  After we have a talk.

She's just growing up way too fast.