Motherhood & More: Hoping kids remember more than Christmas magic misses*

I think I may have single handedly ruined the magicalness of Christmas for my kids.

I mean, there’s only so much enchantment I can create, you know? As much as I would love to present my children with a Pinterest Christmas, I gave up on that attempt the year my daughter destroyed the homemade applesauce cinnamon ornaments just because.

They have an advent calendar with a daily treat (mostly cheap chocolate because I am not an idiot) but we had to move that surprise to the afternoon because someone (my son) wasn’t sleeping past 4:30 a.m. He was too excited because of all the anticipation, and I was too tired because of all the early rising.

But sometimes I forget to have their treat out when they get home from school. They run expectedly, eyes bright hoping for their tiny snowman chocolate. I have to inform them that no, their mother wasn’t prepared. Again. But hold on a minute and I’ll get it for you. I guess that ruins the surprise, or something.

We also acquired an Elf on the Shelf a few years ago as a family gift, though we probably would have gotten him ourselves because everyone has to have an elf now, right?

Guess how happy I am about that little nuisance? Not only does he absolutely have to be in a different spot every night, but parents now are creating ridiculous scenarios where their elf is squirting toothpaste all over the bathroom because he’s just a silly, naughty thing. Excuse me, but I have enough junk to pick up after my children. Sorry, kids. I’m not cleaning up after the elf, too. You will just have to make do with our boring Mr. Christmas.

I also don’t understand how people leave their elves in places low enough for kids to reach. My kids know they’re not supposed to touch him. However my daughter will look you right in the eye as you tell her not to touch and poke the poor guy’s leg. That’s because no one is allowed to tell her what not to do, obviously.

And now my son has started writing to our elf. Usually he tells me when he’s written a letter and asks that I make sure the elf knows about it because we have a special bond, Mr. Christmas and I. But sometimes my son doesn’t tell me and is greatly disappointed when there isn’t a response. That means, of course, that now I have to search for a letter every night, just in case.

As much as I complain, I actually wish I were better at all of this than I am. I’d love to be the type of mom who has everything organized enough to fill every day of the Christmas season with magic. I’m having a difficult enough time keeping up with all I’m supposed to be doing that isn’t Christmas related, and many times I drop the ball. But I hope they don’t remember all the times the elf didn’t respond to a letter, or how we still didn’t put up the outside Christmas lights.

Maybe, instead, they’ll remember cookies we made, the tree we decorated, the Christmas music and hot chocolate, and the holiday shows we watched snuggled up together and offer a bit of forgiveness to their imperfect Mama.

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on December 23, 2015.

Motherhood and More: Don't lose your head over Mom-made costume*

I have a Halloween problem. Or, more specifically, I have a homemade Halloween costume problem.

You see, ever since the first time I sewed my oldest child his Halloween costume, I haven’t been able to go back to store-bought ones. I just have a problem paying upwards of $20-$40 for a costume that will be worn once, then fall apart.  That’s not to say that we’ve never rocked the premade ones, but this way makes us all happier.

Plus, as with everything I do as a parent, I have Mom Guilt. My mom made our Halloween costumes. They were always fun and awesome, especially that one year in high school where I made her sew me a sunset costume.

Yes, yes I did. And yes, yes she did.

So I feel it’s my duty to carry on the tradition because I have the capabilities. And it’s just fun. I like saying that I made it, and to me, Halloween should be all about creativity. You can be anything you want and should take full advantage of that.

So I’ve made ninja costumes, wizards, Batman, Harry Potter, an Elsa cape, and, though it wasn’t for Halloween, I’ve made a Luke Skywalker costume.

This year my son has been adamant that he will be the Headless Horseman. It took me awhile to figure that one out. We had a cape from last year’s Harry Potter costume, so that part was simple. But the pumpkin head has given me trouble. I’ve looked at Styrofoam pumpkins, plastic pumpkins and any other pumpkin I could find before dismissing them all as too small, too large, too difficult or too plastic-y. I finally realized that a Paper Mache pumpkin would be perfect. I could make it the size I wanted, easily cut a hole for his head, and it still would be light enough to sit on his shoulders without causing harm.

He wants it painted black with dripping blood, and he also wants to be able to throw it at people because of course he does.

He’s worrying a bit because it’s not quite finished yet.  Don’t worry, kid. I may be last minute but I always get it done.

I started the pumpkin head late because I’ve been fighting with my daughter’s fairy costume. This one was ridiculous. I’ve never sewn satin or organza, and never will again after this. Maybe if I’d done a bit of research before jumping in I wouldn’t have had such trouble, but if I had then I wouldn’t be me.

The costume has a dress and flowing skirt, plus a vest. And it was supposed to have handmade wings but I had to throw in the towel on that and use store-bought ones. There’s only so much torture I am willing to take in the name of homemade Halloween costumes and I had met my limit with all of the hand sewing required.

So I’m excited for Halloween because my kids are pumped about their costumes, which makes me feel good. And I hope that this is something they let me do for years and years to come.

I’ll even sew a sunset costume if that’s what they want.

Halloween 2012 can be found here and here. Sebastian's Luke costume can be found here. And Halloween 2013 is here. I don't have a post for Halloween 2014 because I got lazy, but I do have instagram photos! 

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on October 28, 2015.

Motherhood & More: The kids grow up and, somehow, so do the parents*

Adele took this one.

The other day, my husband turned to me and said, “He’s 7. How did that happen?”

He was, of course, referring to our son, our oldest. It’s so strange how that transpires. One minute you’re wishing and wishing for time to go faster, for you to be older and more independent, then the next, you’re the mother of an almost-tween who acts more like a 30-year-old than most 30-year-olds.

And he does. He’s always thoughtful and responsible, forever trying to improve things about himself — whether it’s increasing the amount of healthy foods he eats or decreasing his screen time. He’s so proud for doing what he considers the right thing and always is quick to call his parents out for doing things they shouldn’t — such as forgetting to recycle.

He’s goofy but shy, respectful but kind of gross in that he loves bodily function humor. He’s learning to play chess and  always is improving on the soccer field. He still will hold my hand in public and give me hugs and kisses, but I know it won’t be long before that changes.

It’s absolutely insane. I don’t feel like the mother of a 7-year-old. I feel like me, you know? I feel like who I was, the same weirdo-goofball I’ve always been. But now there are small people forever needing me.

I’ve never minded growing older. I absolutely believe age is just a number. I’m so much happier and satisfied now than I ever was in my 20s. Of course, having young children will exhaust you to the point where you don’t even remember what it was like before they were there. But there are no regrets. I never feel like I’m truly missing anything. Often, I would like more time to myself, to do exactly what I want to do. But, in my eyes, that’s not the same thing as wishing to be alone.

It’s hard, sometimes, being a parent. It’s hard to remain yourself, to keep that part of you that is only you, not Mama or Wife. And I think it’s absolutely essential to grow and evolve once you are caring for another human being 24-7. Because how could you not?

Your entire life is flipped around and most of your thoughts will switch from, “How will this affect me?” to, “How will this affect my child?” (Or, in many instances, “How can I get more sleep?”)

It’s such a fantastic thing, that development. Nothing else but parenthood can change you like that – from selfish to selfless.

And every time my youngest gets up in the middle of the night to crawl into bed with us, I remind myself of this. She won’t always do it. I need to enjoy it now because it’s part of our story, part of my evolution.

Neither of my children will be small for very much longer, and already it feels like it’s slipping away.

But for now I’m still Mama. And that’s just fine by me.

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on Sept. 23, 2015.

Motherhood & More: Silence is golden, but I miss my babies*

My days are child-free. For six hours a day, every weekday, for the first time since I had children, I am at home alone, regularly.

It’s … odd. And quiet.

I’m able to work uninterrupted, forming complete thoughts without the incessant tone of whatever ridiculous television program the kids are watching. I actually can generate an entire sentence without stopping to play another game of Candyland or another game of “where did my daughter run off to, now?”

My house stays clean for longer than 15 minutes and I can keep up with dirty dishes.

I don’t find random half-eaten snacks under the couch or rotten cups of milk. I don’t spend all of my days explaining that sure, fighting is completely normal, but let’s try not to draw blood, OK?

I work. I have made some time to sew. I make jewelry to sell. I knit. I work some more. I perform household chores.  I wait for the kids to get off the bus. I drink my coffee. I clean the house. I work even more.

I’m incredibly, wonderfully lucky to have the opportunities I have. I can work and contribute and learn and grow and use my mad word skills.

But it’s quiet. I can form complete sentences without interruption. I’m not playing Candyland or refereeing or pitching the baseball endlessly to the two batters who never let me hit. I’m not riding bikes in the driveway or looking at fossils with a magnifying glass.

And I miss all of it.

I’m not working to the endless background noises of annoying kid shows. I’m not cleaning up food or one more drink spill in the living room, even though drinks aren’t actually allowed there.
It’s so, so quiet. Peaceful, yes. But also a bit too peaceful. I’m a bit too alone and goodness I do love to be alone.

I know I will need to become used to this, just like everything else. It’s a new situation, one I haven’t experienced before. I am a homebody, most definitely. And yet I also need to make sure I interact with people, adults, at least sporadically.

In a way I feel like being here, being alone, is somehow not natural. I am not supposed to have this much time to myself, because, for the past seven years I haven’t. Since I became Mama, almost every thought, every day, every hour has been spent on my kids.

OK, maybe that’s not entirely accurate and a bit of an exaggeration, but it’s still partly true. This is the first time in a long time I’ve been able to be at home alone for this amount of time. I need to learn how to be me, without them.

It’s pretty cool, yes. But, oh, do I miss my babies. My smart, wild, annoying, funny, time-consuming, not-really-babies-anymore babies.

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on August 26, 2015.

(This is my 500th post. I probably should have something a bit more special than this column, but this is what I got. Hopefully I'll be more motivated to come back to this space soon. I miss it, and I have so much stuff to show you - lots of sewing and knitting and whatnot - heavy on the whatnot.)

Motherhood and More: Youngest child starting school brings conflicting thoughts*

My youngest child, my daughter, is starting kindergarten in a few weeks.

I … don’t know how I feel about that.

I am relieved in so many ways. Being at home has been a daily struggle between responsibilities that have to be done and the fun that everyone wants to have. It feels like I have failed on all fronts.

So I am not sad that school is starting, that the kids will be intellectually and socially stimulated for many hours with no effort needed from me.

Except I am. I am sad. She’s not quite 5 yet, as she’s just squeaking by the age cutoff to start school this year. This is probably our last real summer together and I don’t think I’ve taken full advantage of it. But I feel that way every August when I see all the other children who have attended camps and vacations and whatnot.

We hung out at home. The kids watched too much television. We went swimming as many days as possible, we learned that coloring and Legos can occupy them for hours, we ate Popsicles and ice cream sandwiches and played video games.

But we didn’t seem to do anything especially memorable. And for that I feel guilty. It is my daughter’s last summer before starting the decade-plus journey of school. This is when she’ll start growing into her own person, figuring out what it means to be Adele.

She’s already one of the coolest people I know, strong in her convictions and opinions. She’s tough with a forceful personality and would just as soon punch you in the leg as give you the best hug of your life. She’s able to disarm just about everyone she meets while at the same time convincing them she is right, always, no matter what.

I don’t want her to lose that. As difficult as it’s been to parent such a wild child, that wildness is what makes her amazing.

School is hard on people, but especially girls. Maybe that’s because I am one, but I think we have so much more pressure to be a certain way or act a certain way. I don’t want my daughter to be influenced and pushed to be someone she isn’t, just because she feels like she has to in order to fit into a specific mold.

She isn’t a big Barbie person, but loves animals and bugs. She’s fearless in the water, swimming better than any 4-year-old has a right to, diving off diving boards and doing underwater flips. She loves dresses, but doesn’t know or care anything about makeup.

She keeps asking me to cut her long, thick, gorgeous hair as short as her brother’s, mainly, I think, because I force her to let me brush it at least every other day.

So I want her to be a leader. I want her to be who she is, to accept everyone else for who they are, to not be influenced by petty, mean-girl antics.

But that’s part of it, isn’t it? Almost all girls have experienced that part of navigating through friendships and relationships.

I can only hope that when she comes out the other side, when she becomes a full-fledged woman, that she retains that fearless, full-throttle attitude we all love in her.

Because she’s going to do incredible things.

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on July 22, 2015.

Things my daughter has destroyed today

1. My picture I colored my very own self

2. Her handmade dress that was an absolute bitch to sew. She chopped it up with scissors.

3. A dangling bead thing her friend made for her

4. Her dresser drawer. (I'm still not sure how that one happened)

5. Her brother's pack of blueberries that she dumped out into sand because he sat on the porch swing

6. Everything she colored on with the markers that are only supposed to be used on paper, including her face

7. The roll of toilet paper she threw all over the bathroom

8. My sanity

9. All that other stuff that I'm too tired to remember right now.

Coffee- and random capslock-infused vignettes

Sometimes I get locked in my closet/office because of a class or Very Important Test happening in the computer lab that is my lobby and I have a love-hate relationship with the isolation.

I kind of love being locked in.  No one will bother me - not that that is a very frequent occurrence anyway, but still.  I can hide and be alone and talk to no one and be an introvert.

However, I also hate being locked in.  And this is mainly because I have to pee a lot in the mornings.  Like a lot.  Like, I could pee every 7 minutes if someone made me pee every 7 minutes because of a weird need to force someone to pee every 7 minutes.

Maybe this has something to do with the amount of coffee I drink in the mornings or the amount of children I have birthed but the problem is there no matter what the cause.

And I could interrupt the test, I really could.  No one would be mad at me except probably the students who are bothered by me startling them because no one expects someone to burst out of a closet in a computer lab shouting "Oh I AM sorry!  Don't mind me - I just need to pee because I've had gallons of coffee and birthed two children who destroyed my bottom half and ha-ha!  You know what I'm talking about, don't you?  But I'll only walk through this once, I promise, except not really because I have THE SMALLEST BLADDER IN THE WORLD."

The students tend to lose their focus when that happens.

So I hide and squirm until the last possible second because I don't want to disturb anyone or cause anyone a slight irritation.

In other, non-bladder-related news I sewed myself another Scout Tee.  This one is made from polyester and is teal with maroon stars on it and really, could there be any better fabric choice?

It makes me smile.

My sewing machine decided it hated me this weekend and started breaking my needle thread and bunching up my bobbin thread and generally being an asshole.  And then it stopped because I blew some dust out of the bobbin area and I patted myself on the back for being an expert sewing machine repair person.  And then it started up again.

And in other-other non-bladder-related news Adele picked out her clothes this morning and insisted on dressing herself completely and actually wore the school jumper I sewed for her and even put on her shoes and had very specific ideas about how she wanted her hair fixed and ate her breakfast and brushed her own teeth and this was a definite Excellent Morning, especially after we had a ridiculous weekend full of both kids bickering and fighting and pinching and my in-laws took pity on us when we went to eat dinner with them and let the kids stay the night at their house.

Chris and I went home and watched House of Cards.

And then we picked them up on Sunday and they were still fighting and last night Sebastian pinched his sister really hard and when he was reprimanded he asked (yelled) WHY DID YOU EVEN GET ME THEN and was very upset about the fact that, as he put it, Adele used to be the one hitting and pinching and now it was him and WOE IS HE WHO IS 6 YEARS OLD AND SUPER TIRED.

And then Sebastian told me that some of our friends' kids said Adele was a jerk which is TOTALLY NOT COOL YOU LITTLE JERKS.

And then everyone was fine and we read bedtime stories and both children actually listened to me read the stories, which is rare because usually storytime is also wrestling time and Adele went to bed again without screaming and throwing things at my head as I walked down the stairs and this morning it was so hard to wake up because I didn't sleep very well and had a 4 year old in my bed laying on my chest but the she got herself ready and it made me happy and a little relieved and Sebastian got himself ready like he always does which makes mornings that much more manageable.

And we played I-Spy on the way to school like we always do and Adele picked the yellow sun like she always does and I picked the red sign like I always do and Sebastian picked the white snow like he always does and Chris picked the brown building like he always does.

Snowbound and down. And then up. And then down.

I've been feeling a bit blah lately.

I don't feel like I have anything to say or any desire to create something out of a few words and thoughts.  I think I've said it all.

I mean, I know.  When did I ever have anything super important to say?  A lot of it was drivel, and I was okay with that.  I need to be okay with it again because it was fun and entertaining and we all need a little fun and entertaining drivel in our lives.

I especially needed it last week during snowpocaplyse or snowmageddon or whatever we are calling the ridiculous amount of snow my area received last week.  Of course, it was probably pretty light by Maine standards, but for Kentucky it was enough to close everything down.

It meant that my work was closed and my children were home with me all day every day and we couldn't drive anywhere the cabin fever set in pretty early so every day was filled with disagreements and whining and fighting and would you two please just separate so I don't have to listen to this?

So I let them watch entirely too much television and play games on tablets and I hid behind my sewing machine in order to pretend that I was alone and not currently in the midst of random outbreaks of sibling war.

I sewed a lot.  Like a lot a lot.

I made Adele three dresses.  The first one was Anya from Green Bee patterns.  I did not enjoy sewing this dress.  The set-in sleeves had wonky corner seams and it was frustrating and all I wanted was something easy.  But I think that had more to do with the person sewing the dress than any actual problems with the pattern.  Adele loves the dress, which she calls her 'cheetah dress' and I love the skull and crossbones buttons.

The second dress I sewed for Adele (McCall's 6728) is out of material from an old dress that Chris' grandmother gave me.  The material is fantastic and I thought it would be nice for Adele to have something from Uri (great-grandma in German).  Plus she loves that it's twirly:

No really.  She LOVES it:

I bribed her with candy to get her to stand still for this photo:

The pattern for the third one is Butterick 5019.  She doesn't like it all that much so I don't have a photo but one day I will either bribe her again or force her to put it on.  For now you can look at this picture and imagine that it's Adele wearing the dress.  Her's also has pink flowers on it.

If you sort of squint you can see me sewing the dress in this lovely photo that Adele took when she stole my phone as I was otherwise occupied.  That green thing on the table is a bottle of beer that is making me sad to look at because I gave up alcohol for lent.

I made myself two dresses.  This white one that I plan on dying red as soon as the dye I ordered gets to my house.  I'll share more about that later.  The pattern is Tiramisu from Cake patterns.

The second dress was another version of the Trapeze Sundress from Weekend Sewing that I cut out right after I completed that one and never sewed together.  It's been living in pieces in my closet since then.  This one is a sort of minty-teal.  Once it warms up enough for me to be able to wear the dress without catching frostbite I'll photograph it.  For now you can see the fabric underneath this jar of homemade face cream my sister whipped together.  If you're interested, she has an Etsy shop called Dixie Daisy Naturals and I highly, highly recommend this stuff.

And lest you think I forgot about the boys in the family, I'll put your minds at ease to tell you that I hemmed my husband's pants for him.  The same pants I have been promising to hem for months.

Sebastian got a whole new pair of pants - knit pants from Oliver and S patterns.  These were super easy and sewed right up out of a thin, light gray jersey material.  He loves them and I'm guessing I'll be making more of them.

I attempted to make a pair for Adele out of khaki because she's outgrown all of her school uniform pants, but unfortunately I didn't take into account that khaki isn't nearly as stretchy as jersey and so the pants have no give and are too small and it makes me sad because they are actually really nice pants.  That she won't wear.

I also made myself a pair of warm pajama pants, but the material was a weird polyester that I thought would be warm but in actuality was ridiculously hot and I can't bear to wear them.  Plus they're too big and fall down, even with a drawstring because the material stretches.  Those will probably be scrapped.

I sewed myself a bag using this tutorial from See Kate Sew:

It's huge!  I love it.  I've been using it as a purse because I like it and want to be near it but I think it would actually work more as a tote bag.

In addition to sewing I also finished knitting a sweater for Sebastian and worked more on a sweater I started last year for Chris.

(Apparently Chris gets pushed aside sometimes.  Woops!)

And I made homemade poptarts from smitten kitchen that were so, so good and homemade blueberry pancakes that tasted horribly and dinner every night and muffins and homemade paleo granola that I can't stop eating with milk and chocolate chips and I occasionally cleaned the house and we put chocolate in our oatmeal because we needed it.  And Adele learned how to write her name, which was super exciting for us all.  Also there was pantsless drawing.

I was so ready to go back to work.

I wasn't at all ready to go back to work.

I'm a better mother when I go to work.

I'm a better mother when I'm at home with the kids.

Such is life, right?

The real question here is how is she already old enough for kindergarten?

I don't think it's any secret that I worry more about Adele than I probably should.

She's stubborn and mule-headed and sweet and caring and wild and completely ignores me when I ask her to do something as annoying as 'STOP STANDING ON THE TABLE.'

I stress and stress and then stress some more.  And I've just added more to my list of things that worry me because now we are discussing kindergarten.

Her birthday is in a weird place - September - and the rules are changing soon for kindergarten eligibility.  Namely, in 2016 kids will have to be 5 before August 1 in order to be able to start school. It was a little up in the air as to when exactly that was changing because I've gotten conflicting information but I just called the school and got the 100 percent, here-is-how-it-works facts so yes, Adele will be going to kindergarten next year.

Holy shit.  Holyshitholyshitholyshit.  Holy shit.

I mean, we do have the option to keep her out next year if we don't think she's ready, but I really do. I haven't always, I admit it.  I've been so worried about how she is and how she learns and where she is on a scale of ready or not but she's grown and learned so much in the past few months at her preschool that I know she'll be ready for Real Live School.

Plus she's much better behaved at school than she is at home.  I haven't gotten any notes about her spitting in her teachers' faces so I think that's a good sign.

Of course, I've made everything about the school situation even more difficult because now we are deciding where exactly she should go.

A little background - Sebastian went to two years of preschool our local catholic preschool/elementary school/middle school.  It's an amazing school.  Like capital 'A' Amazing.  The teachers are great and the other students are great and even Sebastian's public school kindergarten teacher said that kids coming out of this preschool generally 'know their stuff' when they start kindergarten.  We didn't keep him in the catholic school when he started kindergarten because, well, it's expensive and I wasn't working at the time.

Adele is going to the same preschool this year and now I kind of want to keep her there for school-school.  And move Sebastian from his public school to the private one next school year.

We've had really good luck with public school - both of Sebastian's teachers for kindergarten and first grade have been amazing.  But this other school - it just gives me a really good feeling, you know?  It's my pick.  I want to give my kids the best that I can and I think this school is the best.  And I don't worry about Sebastian switching schools.  He may be shy a bit at first but he's an adaptable boy and incredibly social and he genuinely likes people.

The only issue is money.  As it usually is.  The school isn't cheap and we'd have two kids to cover.

We are mulling it over.  We are discussing.  We are budgeting.  We are strategizing.

(This is going to sound super selfish but in addition to the money aspect I'll also have to pick them up every day from school instead of relying on public transportation and IT'S ALL THE WAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN!  So I'm taking that into consideration.)

And I have how many days left until they go back to school?

I am currently 56 percent zombie, 41 percent coffee and the rest cracker candy.

That's because my sweet 4-year-old Adele had a minor freakout at 2 in the morning in the form of hysterical screaming about spiders in her bed.  (Spiders this time, not snakes.)  And so I lay with her for awhile to calm her down, and I noticed that she sounded horribly congested and wouldn't stop coughing.  I got her some cough medicine and hippie decongestant salve and returned to my own bed, hoping to quickly return to sleep.  I knew it was wishful thinking because I am self aware, but still.  I wanted to believe it was possible.

But then, of course, Adele began fake crying because she's not supposed to get out of bed and that was her way to get our attention.  She's not supposed to get out of bed because for the past few weeks (WEEKS) she has come downstairs in the middle of the night to our bed.  We let her stay for a bit then one of us (me) will carry her back to her own bed.  And neither parent goes back to sleep.

So instead of coming downstairs after we told her not to she put her head right by her door and fake cried until I made it back upstairs.  I gave up at that point.

I stayed in her bed until around 5.  I think I slept some.  A bit.  But not nearly enough.  And today I needed to run to the store for jewelry supplies because I had two necklace orders and desperately needed chains even though I was sure I'd bought an obscene amount the last time I stocked up and how did I go through so many so fast?  (Obviously, this is a good problem to have.  Just not today.)

So the kids and I went out, me partially awake and Adele majorly tired and possibly on the verge of a meltdown.  But luckily that didn't show up until we were waiting in line at the bookstore to get a drink and I refused to buy her a cookie.  We were at the bookstore because I didn't have the energy to disagree with my son who really, really wanted to go there.  That's also how we ended up with a chapter book.  Well, that and I'm a sucker for books and it's pretty awesome that he's reading chapter books and I'm ok with encouraging it.

And maybe I would have been okay with buying a cookie for the kids if they hadn't spent the entire weekend eating nothing but sugar.  We had three parties to go to on Saturday which included cupcakes and gingerbread house and cookie decorating and hot chocolate and chocolate covered pretzels and - and - and ...

And on Sunday we had my parents' Christmas party where the rest of us ate lasagna but my two unnatural children don't actually like lasagna and so survived on Pez.

So I thought I'd attempt to get them back on some sort of halfway-healthy-type of food plan, which didn't include overpriced cookies from the bookstore cafe.  Adele flipped out so we left that line and went in the book-buying line, which actually was longer than the over-priced coffee and cookie line.  And she wouldn't stop flipping out so I put her Barbie book back and just bought Sebastian's book because he was behaving like a civilized human being.

And then she screamed in the car when she realized I hadn't bought her book.

Thems the breaks, kid.

We went home and ate lunch and Adele took a nap, which means that she was exceptionally tired because she didn't even protest me forcing her in her room all that much.  I honestly think she was a little relieved.

I probably should have taken a nap myself but I had three baskets of laundry to fold and Gilmore Girls to marathon and so I just made another pot of coffee and had a few more bites of cracker candy an considered myself sustained.

Lest you think I was completely neglecting my older child, he was around, and perfectly behaved because he spent his afternoon watching youtube videos of a boy opening toys and playing with them.  Now, I don't necessarily understand the concept of evantube, but it keeps him occupied.

Good Lord, is it only the first day of Christmas break?

Motherhood and More: Teaching our kids to accept people for who they are*

I feel like my job as a parent, as a mother, is to prevent my kids from being jerks.

That’s the gist of it all, really.  All I want is for them to be kind to others, to be sympathetic and empathetic.  I want them to appreciate everyone, no matter what they believe or who they are.  I want them to see the good in all, because in spite of everything I do believe that everyone has something to offer.  Everyone has their own story and their own baggage and it’s our job to teach our kids to look around that, and through it, to see the actual person.

I am not perfect.  In fact, I have my own set of issues – my own jerk tendencies.  But I fight them daily.  I also spend a lot of time encouraging my children to think about what they’re doing.  Favorite phrases of mine are “actions have consequences,” and “our first instinct shouldn’t be to hurt each other.”  That last one is usually said after one kid has kicked the other one. 

My son has always gotten it.  He’s a sensitive little man, even through his love of zombies and burping.  He’s considerate to his friends, kind, and perfectly willing to share what he has.  My daughter is the same.  She’s concerned when someone is hurt, always ready with a sympathetic pat or hug, and plays well with her friends at school.

Of course, none of this applies when they are with each other.  Then it’s knock-down, drag-out, full-on wrestling match, usually because one child has touched the other one’s toys.  It’s a punishable offense, apparently.

But in spite of their behavior toward each other I have hopes that they are growing into people who will be thoughtful, who will do nice things for others not because they expect something in return, but because it is the right thing to do.  It isn’t hard to be nice.  It doesn’t hurt you to hold the door open for someone, to let a car merge in front of you even when you’re late for work. 

I once heard my mom discuss giving money to people asking for it on the street.  Many will say that it’s not worth it because that person won’t spend the money on something meaningful – something that you think they should spend it on.  But my mother’s point was that in giving the money, we have done our part.  It’s not our responsibility to monitor what they do with a gift.  We’ve passed the responsibility on to that person and what they do with it is their business.   

We don’t know everyone’s story.  We don’t know what a person is dealing with, or what they have been through.  All we can do is take charge of who we are and how we treat others.  So striving to just be nice, to, as I said, not be a jerk, is all on us. 

And that’s what I hope my children learn from me.  Everyone is different.  Everyone has their own struggles.  But it’s how well we live and work and help each other, and our kindness to others, that sets people apart.  

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on Nov. 26, 2014.

Coffee features prominently into this post for many reasons

Well, I survived the first snow day and I only beat the children once each.

It was nice, you know?  I miss being home with the kids all the time, even though when I was home all I wanted was a few minutes of peace.  Never satisfied, I know.

So Monday it snowed quite a bit and we spent the day making snow angels and throwing snow at each other and then after five minutes of that I gave up and went inside to pour myself another cup of coffee because BRRR.

And when the kids finally got cold I made hot cocoa with extra marshmallows and we watched Frosty on Netflix.

(I also made bread and yogurt and butter that day because I am an idiot.)

The afternoon kind of sucked because they always do.  Something about being tired but not wanting to rest and me trying to rationalize that 'resting' also can be playing video games or watching tv because at least they are sitting still.

It never works.  When I finally tell then that hey, time to unplug, they're glazed over and super-extra tired and pissed off because I've separated them from their beloved screen.

(Is this just my kids? Because this is a regular occurrence in my house.)

Also Adele lost a tooth.  Which, what?  Too young, right?  But she's a teeth grinder and loosened them up, which I think had something to do with it.  Obviously I am super concerned about it all.  The tooth fairy came, but since she couldn't care less about money she barely has acknowledged her dollar in a baggie.  It was kind of funny when the tooth fell out, though.  I heard her saying "It's not working!" and holding the tooth like what the hell just happened?

She's pretty excited to show everyone the missing tooth, though.

Chris was out of town for work for the last few days which means I stayed up extra late because he wasn't there to tell me to go to bed at 8:30.  That also meant I was dealing with the kids' extra-crankiness (are they sick or just moody? I DON'T KNOW!) all alone and feeling pretty cranky myself which didn't help anything.  In fact, surprisingly, it made everything worse.  As did the staying up later and now I am currently surviving on 6 hours of sleep, a gallon of coffee and dreams of my bed.

But because of all the crankiness and the fact that I couldn't leave the house on account of my children being horrible store-goers, I jokingly facebook-requested a liquor-store delivery.  But sometimes the universe gives you nice things in the form of friends who send their preacher-husbands to your house at 9 p.m. with a bottle of wine.  Also I'd like to formally apologize for answering the door while not wearing a bra.  I did put on a huge sweater, though, because no one needs to see that.

In other news, Sebastian has been complaining a lot this school year about his afternoon bus driver who takes him from school to his afterschool place.  Apparently this man is a yeller.  One day he even forgot to drop the kids off at this particular place, then blamed them.  Also I'm not the fondest of the afterschool place, either.  There's yelling there, too, and Sebastian is always told to keep his hands to himself when he hugs his friends goodbye.  Dude.  Let's promote more love and kindness and less yelling, ok?  Especially since this is at a church.  You'd think kindness would be more encouraged.

But because of all this, and also because I want to save money, I've switched up my hours at work.  Now instead of working Tuesday-Thursday, I'm going to work Monday-Thursday from 8-1.  That way Sebastian can just ride the bus home (different bus driver, we know and like her).  I won't have to pay for afterschool, I'll get a little more time with my guy, and whenever Adele starts kindergarten we will be officially paying $700 less a month in childcare.

I can hardly contain my excitement.  Maybe we can finally have another car instead of sharing one!

But none of this would be possible if I didn't have one of the most understanding bosses around.  He gets families and family commitments and the need for mothers to be mothers as well as employees.  I'm extremely lucky, I know it.

Now if you'll excuse me I need to find someone to tape my eyelids open.

Wanted: One padded room

I almost went to the gym this morning.

Almost.

My gym bag was packed, my alarm was set, I was all for it.


Last night.

But then I woke up this morning with the same headache that I went to bed with and so I pulled up the feather blanket and rolled over and closed my eyes.  I'll try again tomorrow.

It's kind of a pain in the butt to be healthy, you know?  It's not that I don't like it, or that I don't love how I feel when I'm working out regularly and eating properly.  But sometimes it's just exhausting mentally.  I'm tired of putting so much thought into everything and not getting the results I want.  Or really any results at all.  So I give up.  At least for today.

And also all last week because it was fall break and I had a lot of apples to bake into desserts.

Speaking of fall break, I don't like it.  We are not the 'go on vacation for fall break' type of people, mainly because we prefer to spend what extra money we have on things like 'fixing the car' and 'food.'

My children are incredibly deprived.

I do not actually believe that.  I think it's a bit ridiculous to be expected to go somewhere and do things for every time the kids are off of school for more than one day.  Of course, that means the kids were home all week and bored.  My husband was off for most of the week and I was off Monday and Friday and part of Thursday and we all were ready to separate by the end of it.  My mom did take the kids to the movies and the park on Wednesday, so at least they got out of the house.  And Chris took Sebastian fishing on Thursday while Adele and I stayed home and she got pissed because her Duplo tower fell down so she threw a block at me and bruised my hand that I held up in self defense.

Girl's got a temper.

And then on Sunday night I realized that Sebastian didn't have school on Monday either because of teacher in service or something so basically I cried myself to sleep thinking about all the peace and alone time I wasn't going to have.

I am in a funk.  Can you tell?  Also I maybe need to go get some more coffee.

I am strongly in the "let the children learn to play by themselves" camp.  But my children don't seem to know how to do that unless it involves a screen.  I'm okay with television.  I happen to love television.  They will eventually go play when denied television, but not before spending an inordinate amount of time laying in the floor at my feet whining about how horrible I am for not letting them watch another hour of Pokemon or Barbie's Dreamhouse.  I am the worst, obviously.

(Have any of you actually seen Barbie's Dreamhouse?  It makes me sad and also want to punch the creators.)

So I have to use my mean voice, which is pretty much my all-the-time voice now, and banish them to their rooms because NOBODY LIKES A WHINER.  Does anybody have any tips for getting them to play by themselves?  Or maybe together?  Because "together" is a whole other issue.  My daughter thinks 'playing together' means she tears up whatever her brother is touching, then throws the toys at his head.  Understandably, whenever she gets close to his toys now he yells at her to leave him alone.  I've attempted to play with them and guide them, but as soon as I stand up to run to the bathroom or refill my coffee cup someone gets a Lego to the eye.

What am I supposed to do with that?  How do you foster good sibling relationships?  I'm thinking of locking them in a padded room for a day and see what happens.  They'd come out hating me, but at least they would hate me TOGETHER.

Before all the sibling rivalry started ...

'Let's just say we lost more than we won'

Apparently my body has decided to be an asshole and make me pass out in the shower at the gym.

Okay - I didn't really pass out, but it was only from sheer willpower on my part, and the fact that, as standing up to shower wasn't an option, I compromised by squatting.  And let me tell you, you haven't lived until you've shower-squatted.  Or should it be squat-showered?  Either way - good times.  After I survived that debacle I raced, dripping, to the changing room where I sat down, on account of the darkness rolling in, and begged someone for some food as I just assumed I had low blood sugar.  Thankfully a woman gave me some peanut butter so I was able to eat that (Jif-to-go FTW!) and I felt marginally better.  Still not able to stand for long, but better.  And by the time I left I was able to be upright, though sitting definitely feels much better.  Hooray for sitting!

I'm still fuzzy and still have no idea what happened.  But I'm here.  The running has been going well, actually, except for today.  I can tell a difference and I feel stronger and it's awesome that I can run longer and further than I ever have before.  So hopefully the (almost) passing out is a fluke.

In other depressing news, Adele screamed and screamed when I dropped her off at school this morning.  I was pretty certain it would happen, even though yesterday was so great.  Today, though, she knew what was coming.  She knew enough to be nervous.  I'm still hoping it will be a quick transition.  Though her begging me to take her home - and the fact that the teacher had to pry her off of my let - does not bode well for that.

So, as I am only partially brainful* today let's do another throwback.

10-25-96 (9:00 p.m.) (Fri.)  - 15 years old

Woa, it's been awhile.  Let me see if I can catch you up.  First, I guess, is camp.  I had a blast!  I had roommate issues at first, but with all that aside though, I had fun.  We woke up early & went to 2 different training classes with 2 different coaches - Steve & Paddy.  Paddy, I swear, looked just like George Clooney.  (Modern-day edit - he was also Irish.  SWOON!)  Steve was okay-looking.  They were both big flirts.   After the sessions was lunch & then a game.  Next was supper & then another game.  It was exhausting!  I had a really good time.  I was happy to be going home, but sad to be leaving.

Irish George Clooney.  And a bunch of other people.
Do you recognize yourself?  Also Okay-Looking Steve
 is in the middle of the girls, behind Irish George Clooney.

We had a baby shower for Courtney (my sister) the day after I got home from camp.  I had fun.  Courtney got a lot of nice stuff.  She left soon after that.  It was really sad. 

I guess after that I started soccer practice.  I love soccer!  I had a lot of fun doing that!  I was hoping to lose weight but all I lost was 5 lbs & that was after it was all over.  I probably lost muscle.  Anyway, the Varsity won the District Championship.  The JV didn't do so well.  Lets just say we lost more than we won.  That's okay, though.

School started then.  My teachers are Mrs. Crosslin (Geometry).  (She had Courtney & always asks "now she's expecting isn't she?).  Mr. Shook (World Civ.)  He's nice & I like his class but you never know what chapter you're on.  Mrs. Jones & Mrs. Gentry (chorus) I love to sing!  Mr. Blankenship (Chemistry) I like him alot.  He also had Courtney in class.  For the 1st six wks. I had an 100 in that class!

Well, Courtney had her baby!  It's a boy & his name is Christian Rae Leslie!  He is the cutest thing. I think he looks like me! (Modern-day edit - that cutest thing is now two months away from being 18.  Guess how old that makes me feel!  Also he totally doesn't look like me.)  He was born 10-5-96.  Me & Mom went down on 10-10 & stayed until 10-13.  Christian always has a scowl on his face!

I sang my first solo!  I sang it at the Homecoming Chili supper on 10-18.  I don't think I did so bad.  I was shaking really bad!  I lived though.  The night before I put my hair in little braids for spirit week.  That Thursday was the soccer District Game. 

Well, I guess I've said about all I can say.  I think my pen's running out of ink!

(The rest of the journal entries can be found here: Jaime's embarrassing journal entries about boys she loved and also how much she wanted to get her period.

*Made it up.