My Bad

So I've regaled tales and complaints on recent bad behavior on the part of my kids, especially my son, the two year old. This weekend held a breaking point, but it also contained a moment of realization - I was perpetuating my son's bad conduct. (Gasp!)

Yes, mommy guilt and all that - I was/am responsible for the fact that we can hardly take my son out in public in the past few months without his screaming, throwing stuff, and generally acting like a madman. He's fantastic at parties, get togethers and playdates, but terrible in places like the mall, restaurants, and doctors offices.

I keep telling him "NO" when he misbehaves, but really, what is the incentive to listen when you are a high spirited and very energetic young man? If I'm not effectively using techniques to modify bad behavior, how is it his fault? He's just two. He really doesn't know better unless I teach him. And I know now that my daughter's recent bad behavior is just a reaction from her brother's naughty deeds.

So this weekend, I discovered "the time out" for the spirited boy. Time outs are different for him than they are for my daughter. When I say time out, she will immediately go to the designated spot and stay there until either she has calmed down or I tell her she can come back. She is never happy about it, but she does it just because she is supposed to. This is not the case with my little boy. I find I have to use a completely way of doing it.

I haven't read any books on how to do this with my son. I know they are out there, and I'm not sure why I'm not laying my hands on them. Maybe I'm afraid those books will create even more mommy guilt. I just can't handle that. So I'll just try it my way and see how it goes.

So anyway, I discovered that a time out, even if he only sitting in the designated spot with help on my part, and even if he is only there for a few seconds, actually does work. He went from maniacal behavior yesterday, throwing stuff all over the place and hitting his sister, to more careful and considerate conduct - after just 3 time outs. Not too bad. Then, once his behavior improved my daughter immediately started playing nicely as well. I think this might work {{looks up to heaven, does a sign of the cross, then knocks on wood for good measure}}.

My goal is to get my son to be able to sit semi-politely in a restaurant by the weekend. Or maybe by next weekend. We'll see how it goes. Wish me luck. Either that or just call Nanny 911 - I might need it.

I Live in a Loony Bin

There is absolutely no way my kids could have figured out on their own how to be as annoying as they were this week. There must have been a secret toddler/pre-schooler course that they took without my knowledge. I mean, how else could this week be explained in any other way?

It all started on Tuesday morning. I was in a heated discussion with my daughter about whether or not she should do poo-poos (our word for bowel movements) on the potty. She maintained that poo-poos are scary and she doesn't want to do them. I insisted that we have no choice - it's in the pot or in the underwear. Better in the pot.

Anyway, while we were having this conversation, I noticed that my little boy was awfully quiet. This was very, very disconcerting to me. I finally had to de-pants my little girl and place her on the toilet. End of discussion.

I open the door to my son's room, and notice right away that he's buck naked. He says, "Mama, I do poo-poos." I scan the room, and see a whole bunch of stuff I don't want to see. First, there is the dirty diaper, poo-side-down on the carpet. Then there is the brown stained sheets, pillow case, rug, and walls. Every stitch of clothing from his bureau is strewn across the floor. I think I'm having a heart attack. Maybe a stroke. Possibly both.

And he's standing there, looking at me expectantly, crouching because his bum is uncomfortably dirty, wondering how I'm going to rectify the situation. Aaaaaaagggghhhhh!!!!!

As the week is progressing, he has used every opportunity to dump all the clothes out of his bureau, toss his food and drink around the dining room, and so many other things - too many to list right now.

My daughter is growing up. She no longer does stuff like this. She helps me pick up the messes, bless her heart. But she's doing other stuff. Like whining.

"Puleeeassseee, Moooommmmyyyy. Puh-uh-uh-leeEEEEEEaaase can I (insert any number of requests here)!!!!!!"

I do not back down after I've said no. I'm not strict, but once I say no, I stick to it. I'm not sure why she hasn't picked this up in the past four years. One thing I have to say about my little chica, she's determined.

Sigh.

Ah well, as I always say - it's a good thing they are cute. It really is hard to stay mad at those little faces.

It's Just Me - From A to Z

I lifted this from Blazing-Firebird!

Accent: Boston
Booze: Merlot
Chore I Hate: Scrubbing floors
Dog or Cat: Neither...allergies
Essential Electronics: Computer, cell phone
Favorite Cologne: Don't have a favorite
Gold or Silver: Both, but not at the same time
Hometown: Somerville, Massachusetts
Insomnia: Rarely
Job Titlle: Stay at home mom, a.k.a Homemaker, a.k.a Unemployed
Kids: Two
Living Arrangements: I live with my husband and two children.
Most Admirable Traits: Dependable, forgiving, tolerant.
Number of Sexual partners: 1
Overnight Hospital Stays: None
Phobias: No full-fledged phobias, but lots and lots of fears.
Quote: I'm stealing Blazing-Firebird's, because it's my favorite too: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you".
Religion: Catholic
Siblings: 1 brother
Time I Wake Up: Around 6 a.m.
Unusual Talent or Skill: I can wiggle my ears.
Vegetable: I love veggies, so it's easier to list the ones I do not like: okra, cooked carrots, boiled cabbage, and cauliflower.
Worst Habit: Interrupting people. I try real hard not to, but I get so excited sometimes.
X-Rays: Ankle, dental, neck, upper back, and all my female parts.
Yummy Foods I Make: I love to cook, and I make lots of delicious things.
Zodiac Sign: Aries

The Deep

I dreamt of you
We were sea creatures, you and I

Human head, torso, and arms
Long, strong tails
Glittering gold, blue, and green

We were playing
Chasing after one another
Sunlight glinting off our bodies
Tiny silver fish swimming around us

We darted in and out of coral reefs
Sunken ships and cavernous rock

Hair streaming behind us
Fierce grins on our lips
We were so alive

We had no language
Our bodies were our means of communication
Our minds were powerful and clear

Cruelly and without warning I awoke
Heavy body on my mattress
You snoring beside me

I closed my eyes
Tried to swim back
But I had traveled too far

Beneath the sea

My Little Ballerina

She did it! My little princess was in her first dance recital! And she was GREAT!!! No, really. I'm not just bragging here. OK, maybe I am, but she was really very good. She had beautiful form, she remembered all of, well, most of her steps. She was so beautiful. I cried like a big fool. I really didn't expect to, but I did. I'm just so proud of her.

Was it her?

I was in the grocery store today and I saw a girl, around 12 years old, who looked just like my daughter. Actually, she looked just like my daughter's birthmother.

I know that my daughter's biological mother has a sister who would be about 12 years old now. Was it her? If it was, that would mean that the girl was my daughter's bio aunt. Wild.

I just couldn't keep my eyes off her. I think the girl's mother noticed, so I went to a different isle. I probably looked like a stalker. I just couldn't help it though - this girl and her mother could have been connected to my family in a very real way.

The not knowing was the part that weighed on me. I just wish I knew.

Woo-hoo!

I finally figured out how to blogroll. I'm not sure about the etiquette on this though. If you are not on the list and you want to be included, please let me know. Conversely, if you want to be removed, please let me know as well.

Peace out, peeps!

M is for...

The talented Naive No More assigned me the letter "M".

Here's how to play: First, either pick a letter of the alphabet or have someone assign a letter to you. Then select 10 words that start with that letter, explaining why each of those words is significant to you. If you would like a letter, just let me know!

1. Mother - I was thrilled to get this letter because it stands for my most important role ever - mom to two gorgeous, crazy little kids. Also, I am daughter to the best mother in the world.
   
2. Massage - The muscles in my back and neck, especially my neck, tend to contract and sometimes spasm very painfully. Massage therapy is one of the things I do on a regular basis to keep those muscles relaxed.
   
3. Math - I'm terrible at it. Just awful. I always call myself a math dummy. However, when I taught computer software I always volunteered to teach the spreadsheet courses (Excel and Lotus 1-2-3) just to prove to myself that I could do it if I really tried.
   
4. Massachusetts - That's where I was born and raised. I lived there until 8 years ago.
   
5. Mantra - As in Oooohhhmmmm. As in my tattoo - the Aum symbol.
   
6. Masters - My plan is to start a Master of Education program when my son starts Kindergarten. That's 2 years from now. I'll be 40 years old - with emphasis placed on OLD.
   
7. Marriage - I've been with my husband for 20 years, and we've been married for 13 years. Every year I love him a little more, and every year he drives me a little more crazy. C'est la vie. C'est la guerre. C'est l'amour.
   
8. Moody - Yes, I admit that I am moody. I can swing from happy to sad or angry to the extreme. But I can be pulled out of a terrible mood fairly easily, and I never hold a grudge.
   
9. Macabre - While I'm not a big fan of blood, guts, and gore, I love of spooky books and movies such as The Shining and The Sixth Sense. I love a good ghost, vampire, or ghoul story.
   
10. May - This is the month of my husband's birthday. It's the month that my daughter came home for the first time. It's also the month that the weather really starts getting warm - yay!

I Wish

I wish I was smarter, taller, thinner, prettier, more interesting.

I wish I got my Master's degree before kids so that I wouldn't be starting school again so late in life.

I wish I could be more industrious while my kids are napping. There's so much to do, and I'm making this "I Wish" list.

I wish clicking on the Next Blog link would only bring you to blogs written in languages you can read.

I wish I didn't push away so many friends when I was hurting. Sometimes I really need them back in my life the way they were before.

I wish I could live at least part of the year in a warm climate. Maybe someplace exotic.

I wish I knew the meaning of life. Why I am here? How can I be a better person? What is the purpose of suffering? Is there really a heaven? Why doesn't God talk to us in ways that we can clearly hear?

I wish I could travel more. There's too many places I haven't yet been.

I wish I could be more patient with my kids. And I wish I could forgive myself when I lose my patience with them.

I wish I would always think things through before speaking. Sometimes I say really dumb things.

I wish I could find a way to improve the world. Find a way to help eliminate violence, poverty, intolerance, discrimination, slavery, hunger, disease, and despair.

I wish I could speak Portuguese better. Really, I can hardly speak it at all.

I wish my husband was more communicative. His actions and intentions are always so honorable, but sometimes I just like to hear the words.

I wish nachos weren't so fattening. I could really go for some right now.

Worse Than I Thought

Oh man. I just came back from attempting errands, and it's pretty bad out there. Although the heavy rain has stopped, a lot of the roads are impassable. Most of the main road in town is closed off. I couldn't go to the ATM or the grocery story like I wanted to. Thank goodness I have enough non-perishable food and beverages in the house to get by for a while. Also, we are able to get on the highway from here, so if we really needed something, we could (at this point) drive to a different town for groceries.

It’s very cold and raw. It’s a little under 50 degrees, but the damp puts a chill in your bones. I put winter coats on my kids to go out, but I had to spend a bit of time arguing with my son over it. He is becoming a creature of habit, and does not like to wear clothing that is different from what he is used to. He got used to wearing his spring jacket, so his winter coat was evil as far as he was concerned.

I'm still worried because the Boston Globe online says "The worst is yet to come." What?! Apparently, the rivers are going to rise in the next couple of days and add to the flooding. Scary.

Oh, and the above picture is from a nearby city.

Rain Rain Go Away

We haven't had any flooding in our home (although the danger isn't over yet), but we sure can see the effects of this storm. This picture is from our neighboring town.

One of the main roads leading to our street is closed. It's completely covered with water. The farmland on that road is washed out. The schools are closed. And the rain isn't over yet. It's been raining since the middle of last week, and the worst of the forecasts call for continuing rain all week, into next weekend and then into the following week. Aaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!

Edited to add: Ok, that last exclamation was a wee bit dramatic.

Tertia

There are a few blogs I read faithfully. One of them is Tertia's. It's an infertility/life after infertility/motherhood blog. She's always witty, frequently hilarious, and often manages to move me. Check her out if you've got a chance. Her post today on Mother's Day touched me to the core.

My Dear

My heart yearned for you
And your heart received me

I desired the closeness of your body
And you opened your arms to me

I revealed to you the darkness in my heart
And you let in the sun

I showed you my lunacy
And you calmed me

I feared that you would stop loving me
And you lay those worries to rest

My dear, my husband
You are my champion

Weekend Plans

Except for all the rain, things are looking good for the weekend. Tomorrow night we are leaving the kids with my parents and going out to dinner with my in-laws. I love each and every one of them. Well, except for my mother-in-law really. Ohhhh. That's so mean to say, but the woman is absolutely impossible....but that's for another post.

On Sunday we are going over to my brother's. He's having his in-laws, us, and my parents over for brunch. It should be a good time too.

Oh, and I'm not sure if I ever mentioned this, but I have the BEST mother on the entire planet. She is my best friend, and she is someone I look up to more than anyone...but that's for another post as well.

I went through many years where Mother's Day was the saddest day of the year for me, but thank God I have two wonderful little humans to be grateful for. Thank you, God. Thank you for these little miracles.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!

I Failed the Test

There are tests that pop up here and there in motherhood. Big tests and little tests. I failed tonight's test: How to Handle Oneself in a Crisis. I failed it miserably.

It wasn't even a crisis. Just a mishap really. I ran outside to get the mail. I came back seconds later to hear screaming downstairs from the little one. The little monkey had climbed the baby gate that blocks the wood burning stove in our family room. He normally lands on his feet (yes, he's done this before), but this time he landed on the side of his head - apparently on the edge of the brick hearth. Ouch!

He was holding his head and yelling, so I ran fast to pick him up. As I lifted him out of the enclosure, I saw bright red stains on his yellow shirt. That's when I started to panic. Then I spotted the crimson spot on the side of his head. That's when I burst into tears. I couldn't stop crying. I just held him and we both cried our eyes out. I silently commanding myself, "Get a hold of yourself! Your son needs to to remain calm! Get a grip!" But I couldn't do it.

Then my son started to get angry with me. I've only cried in front of him once before and he didn't like it at all. He didn't like it this time either. "No, Mama. No!", he told me. I tried hard to stop, but the tears kept flowing.

My daughter ran over with some baby wipes and dried my eyes. My son followed her example, took one of the wipes from her, and continued to dry my tears. He stopped crying then because he was concentrating on his task. Now I was starting to calm. I took another wipe from my daughter's hand and pressed it against my son's wound. The blood was still coming, but he wasn't uncomfortable from the pressure. I began to feel a lot better at this point. It was probably very superficial. I propped him up and turned him to examine the wound. It was very superficial. Oh thank God!

I took the blanket off the sofa and wrapped him in it. He was enjoying being cuddled and lay very still for me. My husband came home a few minutes later and examined the wound. He said the baby was fine. How was I doing? I was OK. A few more tears spilled over, but I was fine now. My husband helped me clean the blood from the carpet, then he bathed the kids. My son enjoyed some more cuddles and hugs before he went off to bed.

Oh, motherhood is HARD. And it was such a little test too.

Really, He's Not

He was the cool kid in our high school crowd as far as I was concerned. He was so different from all the other boys. We embraced him and enclosed him in our circle of friends.

As it turned out, everyone pretty much thought they had him figured out. He was exceedingly stylish. He had a bit of a sway in his walk. He wasn't interested in or good at sports. He hung out with girls. The gay guy is how people saw him. I was surprised when I found out how others perceived him. He wasn't gay. Really, he wasn't.

A few years later, some time after college, he finally pulled away from us, eager to break his image and start anew. He found a new group of friends, a crowd with a bit more testosterone. A group of guys with whom to watch the game, clap on the back, and down some beers. He stopped returning our phone calls, he changed quite a bit in appearance in demeanor. People no longer saw him as the gay guy.

Somehow, somewhere some evidence of the past cropped up. A video, a musical actually, a class play. Somehow, somewhere the video was distributed and viewed by his new group of friends, his coworkers, people who didn't know the old him.

He's mortified, he's scared, his world is shaken. People are laughing. I tell him that they will forget, they will see him as who he is now. He tells me that he's worked hard to change and now it's all been undone. He's not gay, really he's not. Really, he's not.

Obsessions

A psychiatrist was conducting a group therapy session with four young mothers and their small children... "You all have obsessions," he observed. To the first mother, he said, "You are obsessed with eating. You've even named your daughter Candy." He turned to the second mother, your obsession is with money. Again, it manifests itself in your child's name, Penny." He turns to the third mother. "Your obsession is alcohol. This manifests itself in your child's name, Brandy." At this point, the fourth mother gets up, takes her little boy by the hand and whispers. Come on, Dick, we're leaving".

Misery Hates Company

I hate the world today. That is, on this particular day I hate the world. An unfortunate combination of hormones, severe seasonal allergies, and medication's side effects has made me a surly girl.

I am taking all weapons from misery's arsenal. I am examining wrongs under new light and allowing every bad feeling to soak into me. I swallow it and find it unappetizing, hard to digest, spoiled after all these years of storage.

I wish to find a small, dark space and bury myself inside of it. I want to shut out all the lights, the noise, the demands. I 'd be happy to shrink into a catatonic ease. Hide until the world goes away.

Aha! I Knew It!

This article claims that: "As waistlines grow, women's clothing sizes shrink incredibly".

0 is the New 8

1985 Revisited

This picture had me cracking up. A friend just posted it on our reunion web site. It was taken at my junior prom. I am the one in the middle.

Just look at those frills, the makeup, the hair falling in front of the face - it's just so delightfully 80s.

Day by Day

My children always each pick a storybook for me to read to them at bedtime. Tonight my daughter selected a children's prayer book.

When I turned to the page with the following prayer, I found myself singing it instead of saying it. I remembered the tune from the folk masses we used to go to when I was a kid. Also, I think it was a popular song during the '70s.

They are such beautiful words, set to such a beautiful tune. I just had to share.

Day by day, dear Lord,

Of Thee Three things I pray;

To see Thee more clearly,

To love Thee more dearly,

To follow Thee more nearly,

Day by day.

St. Richard of Chichester (1197 - 1253)

Conformity

I'm in the middle of one of those situations where I must either go against what I believe or conform to what all the others are doing. It's one of those situations where in the long run it won't make a bit of difference. It's such a little thing really. But is it? I guess that's what I've got to decide.

Here's the situation: My daughter, who just turned 4 years old, will be in her very first dance recital. There are several guidelines that she follow in order to be in the recital, including the color of her shoes, the costume that she must wear, the style of her hair, and the makeup on her face. Yes, the makeup on her face.

I've been to many recitals over the years. Not in them, but to them. And one thing that I've seen is that they all wear the same style makeup - blue eyeshadow, red lips, and rouge. Even the preschoolers wear this style of makeup. The handout that I received from the dance school was pretty clear about it too. Gah.

My gut instinct is not to put the makeup on her. I'm sure it's not a big deal if I do, and I'm equally sure that it's not a big deal if I she goes bare faced. But I will know. And I know that this is the start of many, many decisions I will have to make for and with my children. Do I go with the flow, or do I march to my own drummer?

Again, not a big deal ultimately, but a decision to be made nonetheless.

Saturday Night

We are in the middle of planning our 20 year high school reunion, and, gregarious bunch that we are, couldn't just leave it at one reunion event.

On Saturday we had our second pre-reunion get together. Almost all who attended are people who I have seen since graduation, a few are people I see quite often, but there were a couple of faces that I haven't seen since 1986.

We met at a poolhall in Cambridge, but we never ended up playing pool at all. We just drank, and laughed, and drank a little bit more - definitely too much alcohol was consumed. I think I'm still recovering.

As we were leaving, people kept hugging me and thanking me for getting everyone reconnected. I kept saying, "No, it wasn't me! It was Jen who got the whole thing started." But they kept thanking me anyway. And it's true - Jen did get the planning started and is very active with both our reunion web site and the planning of the reunion event itself. But I'm the one who tracked people down, and I guess that's what they mean.

The above is a picture from Saturday. I'm the second person in from the left - the shortest person there. Even the people crouching down are taller than me. It always surprises me to see how short I am in pictures.