Earlier today, I was leaving comments on Robin's blog, and it got me thinking...What kind of mom am I?
Let's see here, I'm the kind of mom who:
-Let's her kids switch seats in the booth by ducking under the table
-Routinely says, "Suck it up," when her kids are whining about nothing
-Laughs often, when trying to discipline. Really, if you can't beat them, then you should definitely laugh.
-Gives her kids a few chances to be "wrong" before she shows them what is "right"
-Believes that if another child hits/pinches/bites my kid, mine has all the right in the world to fight back
-Tattle-taling is something that kids should be punished for. Unless the end result could be death, you better figure it out yourself.
-Whining is just as offensive as being a tattle-tale
-Will still hold my kids on my lap when they're 30-years old--they will always be my babies
-Spoils these kids rotten with my love.
They're not all bad, right?
Jul 12, 2005
Conversations with Jenna
Background: The fly-eating guy works on a rig in Thailand, so he's gone for a month, then home for a month.
Jenna: Mom, Lynsie's dad isn't home?
Me: Nope. He's still gone.
Jenna: His truck is there.
Me: I know, but he's not there.
Jenna: Oh. Is he still in 'Playland'?
Me: Playland?
Jenna: Yeah, in 'Playland,' where he works?
Me: Yep, he's still in Playland.
Jenna: I think it's probably fun there.
Hope you're having fun in 'Playland.'
Jenna: Mom, Lynsie's dad isn't home?
Me: Nope. He's still gone.
Jenna: His truck is there.
Me: I know, but he's not there.
Jenna: Oh. Is he still in 'Playland'?
Me: Playland?
Jenna: Yeah, in 'Playland,' where he works?
Me: Yep, he's still in Playland.
Jenna: I think it's probably fun there.
Hope you're having fun in 'Playland.'
Open letter to the instructors at Cypress Academy
To Sam, Becky, and Brandy,
Thank you, oh, thank you, for not beating my child. Thank you for acting like it's completely normal when a child tears away from the rest of the class, and throws herself into the foam pit, citing, "I just want to jump for a minute." Thank you for acting impressed when my child tries to do a cartwheel on the balance beam, instead of freaking out because she's supposed to just be standing there on her toes. Thank you for not threatening her with death when she runs away like a little sprite, and heaves herself up onto the parellel bars and tries to stand. But most of all, thank you for acting like it's just another day, when I leave, Jenna flailing from my hip, legs kicking, screaming at the top of her lungs that she'll "be good next time!" Next time....next time, I'll be sure to bring the holy water. The priest sounded convincing when he told me to sprinkle it upon her head.
p.s. Miss Sam, Jenna adores you, and pretends she's you all the time.
Thanks again,
Stephanie
Thank you, oh, thank you, for not beating my child. Thank you for acting like it's completely normal when a child tears away from the rest of the class, and throws herself into the foam pit, citing, "I just want to jump for a minute." Thank you for acting impressed when my child tries to do a cartwheel on the balance beam, instead of freaking out because she's supposed to just be standing there on her toes. Thank you for not threatening her with death when she runs away like a little sprite, and heaves herself up onto the parellel bars and tries to stand. But most of all, thank you for acting like it's just another day, when I leave, Jenna flailing from my hip, legs kicking, screaming at the top of her lungs that she'll "be good next time!" Next time....next time, I'll be sure to bring the holy water. The priest sounded convincing when he told me to sprinkle it upon her head.
p.s. Miss Sam, Jenna adores you, and pretends she's you all the time.
Thanks again,
Stephanie
Jul 8, 2005
Banana clips and blue hair
Scott and I went to the Astros game last night. Our tickets were in a suite, with free food, and free drinks. It should have been a fun night, but it wasn't. The people in the suite were all boring, and there was a woman there, about my age, with long, bleach-blonde hair, and obviously fake boobies. All made up, with the makeup and the hair, and the tight jeans, and the heels. Was I jealous? NO. But I always want to walk up to those girls and ask, "Why? WHY?! You're at a BASEBALL GAME, for Pete's sake!!" I'm just a firm believer in never having to dress up--especially at a baseball game. How are you supposed to scream and jump and yell and drink beer and eat peanuts if you're wearing tight jeans and high-heels? EXACTLY. You can't. Have some FUN, for God's sake. Moving on....
I did see something fun though, that made me have a fond memory--a banana clip. Can you believe? I saw a woman wearing a banana clip. Well, you have to take in my surroundings. I forgot to mention that although I was in a suite, it was a suite filled with oil & drilling company people and their wives. I think the median age of oil-field persons is 50. Regardless, there was an older woman wearing a banana clip. The banana clip--what an ingenious invention--much like the "Topsy-tail." Seeing this woman's banana clip made me think of 5th grade, when banana clips were actually cool. Let's see....that would have to be around 1985-ish.
I was a good kid. No, for real. I was REALLY good. Straight As, teacher's pet, friendly to everyone, and totally innocent by 5th-grade standards--I had just recently found out what "French" kissing was, and was appalled. **News flash: Even when I was 13 and had my first french kiss, it was still appalling. I want to Listerine my mouth every time I think about it. Ew.** Okay, back to 5th grade...There was a lady who lived on our street, who owned a salon. I thought she was pretty cool for an old lady, but come to think about it, she was probably in her mid-20s. When you're 10, everybody's old. It was the era of the reign of Cyndi Lauper and Madonna (when she was "Like a Virgin"); which led to black bracelets up your arms ala Madonna, and brightly-colored hair ala Cyndi Lauper. The 80s were so fun. Jane, the salon lady, had short, spiky, PURPLE hair. To me, she was the epitome of cool. I was hanging at her house one day, and she was re-dying her hair. I SO wanted purple hair. I told Jane. She said she was out of purple dye. But she had blue. I ran down the street to ask my mom if Jane could dye my hair blue. During the 5-house run, I thought about lying and just telling Jane that my mom said 'yes.' I didn't. I went home and actually asked (told you I was good), and my mom said 'YES.' She wouldn't let me dye my entire head blue, but I could dye a 1"-wide strand on each side, behind my ear, so when we went to church the priest wouldn't pass out. She said she let me do this because I was a good kid.
Let me tell you--the next day at school, I was the shit. I had my hair pulled back in a ponytail, and on each side, had an electric-blue stripe of hair going up into the elastic and then erupting in waves in the ponytail. I felt so cool--not just because of my totally kick-ass, 5th-grade, blue hair, but because everyone was going on about how awesome my mom was.
So really, mom, thanks. That was one of the best days of my entire life. I loved my blue hair*. You ARE awesome.
*I went through blue, purple, and aqua after that.
I did see something fun though, that made me have a fond memory--a banana clip. Can you believe? I saw a woman wearing a banana clip. Well, you have to take in my surroundings. I forgot to mention that although I was in a suite, it was a suite filled with oil & drilling company people and their wives. I think the median age of oil-field persons is 50. Regardless, there was an older woman wearing a banana clip. The banana clip--what an ingenious invention--much like the "Topsy-tail." Seeing this woman's banana clip made me think of 5th grade, when banana clips were actually cool. Let's see....that would have to be around 1985-ish.
I was a good kid. No, for real. I was REALLY good. Straight As, teacher's pet, friendly to everyone, and totally innocent by 5th-grade standards--I had just recently found out what "French" kissing was, and was appalled. **News flash: Even when I was 13 and had my first french kiss, it was still appalling. I want to Listerine my mouth every time I think about it. Ew.** Okay, back to 5th grade...There was a lady who lived on our street, who owned a salon. I thought she was pretty cool for an old lady, but come to think about it, she was probably in her mid-20s. When you're 10, everybody's old. It was the era of the reign of Cyndi Lauper and Madonna (when she was "Like a Virgin"); which led to black bracelets up your arms ala Madonna, and brightly-colored hair ala Cyndi Lauper. The 80s were so fun. Jane, the salon lady, had short, spiky, PURPLE hair. To me, she was the epitome of cool. I was hanging at her house one day, and she was re-dying her hair. I SO wanted purple hair. I told Jane. She said she was out of purple dye. But she had blue. I ran down the street to ask my mom if Jane could dye my hair blue. During the 5-house run, I thought about lying and just telling Jane that my mom said 'yes.' I didn't. I went home and actually asked (told you I was good), and my mom said 'YES.' She wouldn't let me dye my entire head blue, but I could dye a 1"-wide strand on each side, behind my ear, so when we went to church the priest wouldn't pass out. She said she let me do this because I was a good kid.
Let me tell you--the next day at school, I was the shit. I had my hair pulled back in a ponytail, and on each side, had an electric-blue stripe of hair going up into the elastic and then erupting in waves in the ponytail. I felt so cool--not just because of my totally kick-ass, 5th-grade, blue hair, but because everyone was going on about how awesome my mom was.
So really, mom, thanks. That was one of the best days of my entire life. I loved my blue hair*. You ARE awesome.
*I went through blue, purple, and aqua after that.
Jul 7, 2005
With compliments
I received, perhaps the best compliment ever, from a very close friend of mine the other day. She has been reading through my past entries, and was commenting on my writing style from "non-medicated-and-hopelessly-lost-in-a-world-of-shit" to "I-am-finally-back-to-being-me-and-so-happy-to-feel-like-this." We were just chatting, and smiling over the glories of prescription medication (that's right, Mr. Cruise, PRESCRIPTION MEDICATION), when she said, "I always feel bad when I read your posts about your kids, because I don't feel like I love mine like that." She went on to say that she doesn't ever look at her child and want to cry because she loves her so much. Certainly, that doesn't make her a bad mother. I know she loves her little one just as much as I love mine. So what's the difference? I think it all depends on what kind of emotional person you are.
Some people can simply say, "I love you," and with those three words, convey all the feeling and emotion they have. I'm not one of those people. With the chicks, it would be rather silly to try to explain it to them by saying something such as, "I love you. I love everything about you, from your toes to the curls on your head. I love your spirit, I love the way you smell, I love the way your eyes dance." They'd never get it. When Jenna was about one and a half, I SO wanted to express to her how much love I actually had for her (without producing a thesaurus), and at a lack for words, I looked at her and said, with my entire heart, "I just love you." That, that one extra word in a popular 3-word phrase, made it mine--made it ours.
There are so few moments in life when the feeling of love is so overwhelming that it threatens to burst from your face in a radiant smile, or escape from your eyes in happy tears. So few moments. I have to say, however, that since I've been blessed with the chicks, those moments happen often. Maybe it's just me, maybe it's just because these kids have me by the heartstrings. I'm not a super-religious person, but I do believe in the power of the Universe. I see my children loving each other, beating the crap out of each other (hey, they're sisters!), and caring about each other I think, "How can there NOT be something bigger?" To me, it's just so evident. It's most evident when I get big hugs around the neck, a kiss, and a little voice whispering, "Mommy, I just love you."
Some people can simply say, "I love you," and with those three words, convey all the feeling and emotion they have. I'm not one of those people. With the chicks, it would be rather silly to try to explain it to them by saying something such as, "I love you. I love everything about you, from your toes to the curls on your head. I love your spirit, I love the way you smell, I love the way your eyes dance." They'd never get it. When Jenna was about one and a half, I SO wanted to express to her how much love I actually had for her (without producing a thesaurus), and at a lack for words, I looked at her and said, with my entire heart, "I just love you." That, that one extra word in a popular 3-word phrase, made it mine--made it ours.
There are so few moments in life when the feeling of love is so overwhelming that it threatens to burst from your face in a radiant smile, or escape from your eyes in happy tears. So few moments. I have to say, however, that since I've been blessed with the chicks, those moments happen often. Maybe it's just me, maybe it's just because these kids have me by the heartstrings. I'm not a super-religious person, but I do believe in the power of the Universe. I see my children loving each other, beating the crap out of each other (hey, they're sisters!), and caring about each other I think, "How can there NOT be something bigger?" To me, it's just so evident. It's most evident when I get big hugs around the neck, a kiss, and a little voice whispering, "Mommy, I just love you."
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