I'm sure you've heard the saying “It takes a village to raise a child.” It’s an old African proverb. Did you think Hillary Clinton was the first one to say it? If you did, you are wrong, but that makes me happy because now you think I am very smart.
As a parent, I am all about the "village" mentality. I'm always gathering parental information from others, and if I feel it will assist me in raising my girls, I use it.
I was at a cocktail party not long ago and I ran into my girlfriend, Jax. Jax has two daughters and unless they are a family of liars, the girls get along really well. I want my girls to be like that. Let me re-phrase. I want my older one (Sweet Pea) to love my younger one (Lovey) like that. Lovey already lives for Sweet Pea, but if Sweet Pea had her way, Lovey would be living with you.
Listen, I get it. It’s normal to pick on the younger sibling. I was mean to my brother when we were little (like really mean) and I see a lot of me in Sweet Pea. "But how can that be? She’s adopted!" Dude, trust me, spend five minutes with her and you will forget all about that adoption thing. She is ME. I'm not sure if you read “Bribery in Disguise,” an entry from back in February, but if you did, you know that I actually had to develop a game in order to bribe Sweet Pea to be nice to Lovey. The game helped, it actually helped a lot, but not enough. It seems there is a lot of meanness to go around, and Sweet Pea still manages to conjure up just enough to worry me.
Back to Jax. She gave me a little tip and I’ve been using it. She said that the first thing she does when her girls wake up is ask them, “Who’s your best friend?” and then both girls say that the other is their best friend. I wasted no time and tried it with my soon-to-be 4 year old, Sweet Pea, the next morning. When I asked her "Who's your best friend?" she replied that I was her best friend. I was so honored and so happy that I was kind of done. But then I remembered that not everything is about me, so I went back and explained that Lovey is really her best friend and we tried it again. Sweet Pea got it right the second time.
I then moved on to my 21 month old daughter, Lovey. I asked: "Who's your best friend?" Lovey got it right the first time--that is if turning around in circles while pulling your pants down and laughing maniacally means “Sweet Pea is my best friend.” Clearly she’s not quite ready for this type of discussion, but I’ll keep trying with her because I am convinced that reinforcing the sisterly bond and discussing its value will eventually make a difference. Thanks, Jax. Love the tip. Good to have you in the village.
My friend, Tess, has a daughter who is two years older than Sweet Pea. Tess is a few steps ahead of me and always dispensing invaluable parenting tips. She mentioned a good one once and I'm sure she doesn’t even remember. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t read this anyway. Some crap about how her eyes hurt when she reads a computer screen. Nice friend. Get glasses.
Tess told me that when I read to my kids I should point out what I’m reading. For example, “Blah blah blah, something that rhymes, and the bike is red…” While I read the words “the bike is red” I should be pointing to the red bike in order to authenticate and illustrate what I‘m saying. Who knew? Not me. Thanks, Tess. You can stay.
And now my friend, Ashby. Ashby shared a tip that I used when Sweet Pea was younger and I have recently started to use it with Lovey. You know those things that are on the backs of doors? I’m not sure what they’re called. Door backers? There’s a metal spring and then a white plastic piece that goes on the end. Sweet Pea used to love to take the white pieces off. It drove me nuts. We had to tape them all on. It wasn’t just that, she took everything off of everything. And she was fast about it. Ashby said that if we could catch her in the act, we should get on her level, take the plastic thing out of her hand and say: “Sweet Pea, THAT’S not for you!” Not in a mean way, but that sing-song pretty way that sugar coats what we really mean: “WHAT IS WITH YOU? STOP IT! YOU ARE DRIVING ME FREAKING NUTS. SERIOUSLY, THE WHITE THINGS AT THE END OF THE SPRINGY THINGS? WHY??”
Yelling just scares little kids and if we use up all of our yelling on stupid stuff like plastic door backer things, the yelling will lose its value and then we won't be able to use it to scare the hell out of them when we really need to. Ashby’s “No, No, honey…THAT’S not for you” line is a good alternative. It gets the point across without judgment and without volume. Good tip, Ashby. The village welcomes you. Don't speed. Garbage day is Tuesday.
It’s unrealistic to think that we are the only ones who influence our kids. We instill what we can, drawing from our own childhood experiences and the tips we take from others, but there comes a time in every child’s life when we have to let them wander the village, without us. We leave them in the care of someone else--a grandparent, a teacher, a babysitter, whoever. Basically someone that is not us. And when we leave them, we are left holding a big bag of hope that those we trust are making good decisions in the best interest of our child.
Plus, who’s to say that you won’t do a stellar job as a parent (so stellar that you can’t imagine anyone doing a better job) but despite your self-proclaimed parental awesomeness, your kid still turns out completely messed up? Someone in your village must have given you a crappy tip and now your kid is thirty years old with his Chevette parked in your driveway and his ass parked in your basement. If, as instructed in this entry, you utilized those in your village, and tried their tips--instead of having only yourself to blame, you now get to point fingers and blame someone else. Just not me.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
One Thing on the Menu
I once got a fortune that said “Eat to live, don’t live to eat.“ I for sure got that fortune by mistake so I made someone trade with me. I love to eat. I’m usually planning my next meal while I’m in the middle of eating one. I don’t know if I was always like this, but I am now. My friend, Busy, thinks we are like this because we are losers who have nothing else in our lives. She is mistaken. I have cake.
My kids don’t feel the same way as I do about food. They’re much more apathetic about mealtime. For awhile, my 20 month old, Lovey, ate just about everything we put in front of her. Those were good days. Those days are over. She now seems to be easing off the food. I think her belly and her palate have reached their respective breaking points. We had a good run, but she’s moving on. She’s now eating only bits and pieces of some food and rejecting others. The rejects end up on the floor and for this reason our dog, Floyd, loves Lovey more than anyone else in the family.
My other daughter is almost 4 years old. She’s very busy. Way too busy to eat. She’s two bites in and “I’m done!“ I don’t get that. WHO LEAVES MAC AND CHEESE ON THEIR PLATE? The veggies, sure, but Mac and Cheese? That is just wrong. She will be sorry one day. She doesn’t appreciate M&C for all its heaven on earth status now, but she will, and when she does, the calories will count. I can‘t wait for the day when she says: “I’m dying for some Mac and Cheese, but I really shouldn‘t because then I‘ll have to work out for 10 hours.” My eyes will then proceed to roll somewhere into the depths of the back of my head. You had your chance, sister.
We were recently commiserating with some friends over how often we have to make a different meal for every person in our family to ensure that everyone is happy. We do this because we are scared of what will happen if our kids don’t eat and also because we are dumb.
My girlfriend, Segal, said she read something about how if we serve everyone at the table the same thing for several days in a row, eventually everyone will start eating it. Wait. What? Feed everyone the same thing? Put the food out and that is that? The kids just have to deal? I was dubious, yet intrigued. She admitted that she has never tried it, but supposedly it works. If it works, I’ll do it. Sign me up. I did sleeping training with both of my kids, I can do anything. I’m a warrior.
Unfortunately, Segal didn’t have much more to say on the subject. I got the feeling that she wasn’t going to try it. I don’t need her. I’ll do it on my own. I was very excited about the prospect of no longer being the short order cook in my house, but when I pressed her for more info, she simply said: “They say it works.”
Time Out. Who are “They?” Do I know any of them? How did they become they? Did they take a class? What if they don’t know what the hell they’re talking about and although it sounds great in theory to serve only one meal and tell everyone to deal, I will feel kind of bad if my kids pull a Gandhi and end up curled up and convulsing in the corner of my kitchen weak with starvation. I wonder where they will be then?
Oh, They. How I loathe you. You had me so excited, why can’t you deliver any concrete evidence as to whether this works or not? Gotta go with the gut, I guess. As parents, that’s all we have. The idea of serving everyone the same thing makes sense, we are a family after all, but unless the outcome of an idea has actually been proven, we’re taking a chance and guinea pigging our kids. It does seem pretty innocuous though. I mean, what harm can come from giving everyone in the family one option for dinner and if not everyone is happy, TOO BAD? They’ll either cave and everyone will eat, or they’ll stand on principle and have to skip a meal or four.
I might actually give it a shot (right after I learn how to cook) because really, if it’s only three or four days, what’s the worst that can happen? Isn’t that what they say?
My kids don’t feel the same way as I do about food. They’re much more apathetic about mealtime. For awhile, my 20 month old, Lovey, ate just about everything we put in front of her. Those were good days. Those days are over. She now seems to be easing off the food. I think her belly and her palate have reached their respective breaking points. We had a good run, but she’s moving on. She’s now eating only bits and pieces of some food and rejecting others. The rejects end up on the floor and for this reason our dog, Floyd, loves Lovey more than anyone else in the family.
My other daughter is almost 4 years old. She’s very busy. Way too busy to eat. She’s two bites in and “I’m done!“ I don’t get that. WHO LEAVES MAC AND CHEESE ON THEIR PLATE? The veggies, sure, but Mac and Cheese? That is just wrong. She will be sorry one day. She doesn’t appreciate M&C for all its heaven on earth status now, but she will, and when she does, the calories will count. I can‘t wait for the day when she says: “I’m dying for some Mac and Cheese, but I really shouldn‘t because then I‘ll have to work out for 10 hours.” My eyes will then proceed to roll somewhere into the depths of the back of my head. You had your chance, sister.
We were recently commiserating with some friends over how often we have to make a different meal for every person in our family to ensure that everyone is happy. We do this because we are scared of what will happen if our kids don’t eat and also because we are dumb.
My girlfriend, Segal, said she read something about how if we serve everyone at the table the same thing for several days in a row, eventually everyone will start eating it. Wait. What? Feed everyone the same thing? Put the food out and that is that? The kids just have to deal? I was dubious, yet intrigued. She admitted that she has never tried it, but supposedly it works. If it works, I’ll do it. Sign me up. I did sleeping training with both of my kids, I can do anything. I’m a warrior.
Unfortunately, Segal didn’t have much more to say on the subject. I got the feeling that she wasn’t going to try it. I don’t need her. I’ll do it on my own. I was very excited about the prospect of no longer being the short order cook in my house, but when I pressed her for more info, she simply said: “They say it works.”
Time Out. Who are “They?” Do I know any of them? How did they become they? Did they take a class? What if they don’t know what the hell they’re talking about and although it sounds great in theory to serve only one meal and tell everyone to deal, I will feel kind of bad if my kids pull a Gandhi and end up curled up and convulsing in the corner of my kitchen weak with starvation. I wonder where they will be then?
Oh, They. How I loathe you. You had me so excited, why can’t you deliver any concrete evidence as to whether this works or not? Gotta go with the gut, I guess. As parents, that’s all we have. The idea of serving everyone the same thing makes sense, we are a family after all, but unless the outcome of an idea has actually been proven, we’re taking a chance and guinea pigging our kids. It does seem pretty innocuous though. I mean, what harm can come from giving everyone in the family one option for dinner and if not everyone is happy, TOO BAD? They’ll either cave and everyone will eat, or they’ll stand on principle and have to skip a meal or four.
I might actually give it a shot (right after I learn how to cook) because really, if it’s only three or four days, what’s the worst that can happen? Isn’t that what they say?
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Fork in the Road
Last week someone asked me if I'm scared that I will run out of things to write about. I think you will find, after reading the following entry, that there is no chance of that happening. The questions below are just a sample of what goes through my head on a daily basis when I should be working or paying attention to my kids. What you are about to read is a necessary contribution to the world of logic and I believe philosophers everywhere will forever toss these questions around because of the startling import presented and posed.
*****
It was a fun night and you got home late. It's way past bedtime for your little one. Normally you brush her teeth after she has a bottle because you're supposed to. (Something about milk doing bad things to the teeth, I don't know). She's tired though and so are you. Do you skip the teeth for one night knowing they're the dress rehearsal teeth, or do you power through and brush them?
You’re at the grocery store and one of the items you buy all the time is on sale. 10 for $10.00. Wow. That‘s pretty good, but who needs 10? 10 is a lot. It’s not like you won't use them eventually, but 10? I don’t know…it’s a lot, but it is a good deal.
Emptying the dishwasher is such a pain. Is it better to clean the dishes and put them away as you go, or go the dishwasher route and put them all away at once? If you say “Oh, I would FOR SURE wait and do them all at once.” I’d like to know if you’re still saying that while you’re the one who's stuck unloading.
Your kids likes gum. Is sugarless gum the way to go or do you give him gum with sugar? If he eats gum with sugar, his teeth will rot. If he eats sugarless gum, there are a lot of ingredients that start with "X." His teeth will look really good but he might end up with a third eye.
You’re not in the mood to talk to the person who is calling you. In fact, you’re really not in the mood to talk to anyone. Do you let the messages pile up, or do you just answer so you don’t have to listen to all of your voice mails and then call everyone back later?
Halfway to the market you realize that you forgot your "Go Green" bags. Curses!! Do you risk the dirty looks and possible harm you're going to cause the planet by choosing paper or plastic, or do you turn around, go back home and emit more gas and carbon dioxide into the atmosphere? (I think it's carbon dioxide that comes out of cars. I'm not really sure. I just know it's bad).
Your kid wears pull-ups during nap time and when she goes to sleep. She just fell asleep on the couch, but you weren‘t expecting it so she‘s not wearing pull-ups. Do you chance it and hope for the best, or do you wake her ass up so you’re not stuck cleaning the pee pee?
Is it better to pick up after your kids as they make a mess or wait until the basement, playroom or whole house is completely trashed and then just do it all at once?
You’re in the bathroom and after you are done, you happen to notice that you’re getting dangerously low on toilet paper. Of course there is more, but it‘s not within reach. Do you go get it and restock the bathroom, or do you risk it and wait for someone else in your family to hopefully take care of it?
Forget it. I can answer that one myself.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Cutting Corners
There are some parents who are really on top of things. I am not.
I do what I can, but I admit, sometimes I don’t suit up. It’s not so much laziness as it is choice. My choice is to let some stuff go. I cut corners. Not on everything, but some things. Just thinking about adding more items to my “To Do List” or calling my kids out on every little thing makes me tired. Here and there, something has to give. Following is a list of some of the things that slide.
Item #1: Grammar
Last I heard, Harvard isn’t taking applications for 4 year olds, so I’m not all that concerned about correcting my daughter’s grammar. It will get acknowledged as she gets older because nothing says a future of minimum wage like bad grammar, but for now when my daughter boasts: “I taked it with me, mommy” or “Is this upside down or upside right?” I smile. I smile because I know it won’t always be like this. Soon enough, she’ll start picking up on the rules and usage of language, and she’ll figure out how everything fits. And even though I may be smiling now, knowing that she won’t always talk like this actually makes me very sad.
Item #2: Clothes
I don’t really know what’s going on in homes with boys because I have two girls, but I imagine the struggle with clothes is pretty much the same depending on mood. The mood of the parent and the mood of the child. I have one daughter who is 20 months old and she couldn’t care less what she wears. She doesn’t care because she is still clueless. That will change and I will cry, but for now I have full creative control and I love it. I LOVE CLOTHES. My other kid, the one who is almost 4 years old, cares. And she cares a lot. I didn’t relinquish control unto her, she took it. I knew the day would come but I’m still not completely over it. Because I love clothes and I still feel the need to be a part of each outfit, I have made Sweet Pea meet me halfway. When it’s time to get dressed, we go into the closet and we build an outfit together. Quality time. I always start the same way: “What are you in the mood for: Skirt, dress, jeans, stretchies…?” and we go from there. I can’t say that she didn’t go to school the other day with a long skirt and pink shoes--SHOES THAT YOU WEAR IN THE WATER--but I’m OK with that. I’m not going to make myself crazy because she leaves the house looking like Punky Brewster. She carries it well and I love that she has her own sense of style. I wish her well and hope that she finds some puddles to walk through.
Item #3: Walking and Talking
Walking Floyd, our Golden Retriever, is good for him and it's good for me. He gets a little exercise and some air, I get a little exercise and some air. I don't really have any desire to sniff other dogs' asses or pee on mailboxes so the rest of the walking experience is pretty much geared towards him. If we run into someone else with a dog, and I can tell Floyd wants in on some of that action, I'm OK with it--but only for a limited time. I have perfected the art of smiling at the other dog owner and saying "Hi, how are you?" very softly so I don't have to a) take my glove off, go into my pocket, dig out my I Touch from underneath several poop bags and then quickly hit the "pause button" or b) take my earphones out after finally finding the best and most comfortable place for them. The clock is ticking for ass sniffing. Floyd needs to finish up his bid-ness because I can't fake any more of the conversation. I will either come across like some crazy lady who yells really loudly while trading pleasantries or I’ll have to resort to one of the options stated above. No thanks. Time to boogie. Floyd gets “the yank” if I feel a conversation coming on. He’s a big dog, he can handle it--plus he knows I’ll make up for it. I know of a house that has three dogs. They have the best mailbox on the block.
Item #4: Food
The food thing is really the only one I have ever second guessed myself on, but that didn’t last long. I think it was a Tuesday. I have friends who are really good about what they feed their kids. They’re giving them all these crazy, exotic foods while I’m proud of myself for thawing a bag of broccoli and carrots and putting them out with some ranch dressing. I entertained the idea of pureeing food and being creative, but who am I kidding? It’s not happening. I’m pretty conscious about a plate stacked with something from all four food groups and I’m all about “No dessert until your veggies are gone,” (or mostly gone) but that’s all you‘re getting with this mommy. I’m doing what my mom did, and although my kids might not turn out any better than me, I figure they can’t turn out any worse.
Item #5: Swear Words
My daughter, Sweet Pea, the one who is almost 4 years old, sometimes throws down a swear word. It doesn’t bother me so I don‘t get in her face about it. She’s not one to walk into a room, pants down low, hand held high: “What up, Mother F%$#er?“ but every once in a while she might drop an: “Oh $%#@.“ For some, it's a huge deal. For me, it’s not. First of all, it's funny when little kids swear. You know it and so do I. Second of all, it just doesn't matter right now. They're little kids. It will matter one day and when that time comes, I’ll be on it, but for now--WHO CARES? The kid stuff goes by so fast. We have such a short window for the “bad” stuff to be funny. It just doesn’t seem worth it to be all up in their faces about every little thing. There will come a day when I will actually have to listen to my husband and stop playing Eminem or I’ll have to get the parental advisory edition (gag), but for not now I hit for the mute button during the bad words and most of the time I make it. Sometimes I don’t. It’s not my fault--I’m probably half way on a curb trying to cut a corner saying something like “Damn, who the hell put that there?”
Hey, I’m a parent. I never said I was a good one.
I do what I can, but I admit, sometimes I don’t suit up. It’s not so much laziness as it is choice. My choice is to let some stuff go. I cut corners. Not on everything, but some things. Just thinking about adding more items to my “To Do List” or calling my kids out on every little thing makes me tired. Here and there, something has to give. Following is a list of some of the things that slide.
Item #1: Grammar
Last I heard, Harvard isn’t taking applications for 4 year olds, so I’m not all that concerned about correcting my daughter’s grammar. It will get acknowledged as she gets older because nothing says a future of minimum wage like bad grammar, but for now when my daughter boasts: “I taked it with me, mommy” or “Is this upside down or upside right?” I smile. I smile because I know it won’t always be like this. Soon enough, she’ll start picking up on the rules and usage of language, and she’ll figure out how everything fits. And even though I may be smiling now, knowing that she won’t always talk like this actually makes me very sad.
Item #2: Clothes
I don’t really know what’s going on in homes with boys because I have two girls, but I imagine the struggle with clothes is pretty much the same depending on mood. The mood of the parent and the mood of the child. I have one daughter who is 20 months old and she couldn’t care less what she wears. She doesn’t care because she is still clueless. That will change and I will cry, but for now I have full creative control and I love it. I LOVE CLOTHES. My other kid, the one who is almost 4 years old, cares. And she cares a lot. I didn’t relinquish control unto her, she took it. I knew the day would come but I’m still not completely over it. Because I love clothes and I still feel the need to be a part of each outfit, I have made Sweet Pea meet me halfway. When it’s time to get dressed, we go into the closet and we build an outfit together. Quality time. I always start the same way: “What are you in the mood for: Skirt, dress, jeans, stretchies…?” and we go from there. I can’t say that she didn’t go to school the other day with a long skirt and pink shoes--SHOES THAT YOU WEAR IN THE WATER--but I’m OK with that. I’m not going to make myself crazy because she leaves the house looking like Punky Brewster. She carries it well and I love that she has her own sense of style. I wish her well and hope that she finds some puddles to walk through.
Item #3: Walking and Talking
Walking Floyd, our Golden Retriever, is good for him and it's good for me. He gets a little exercise and some air, I get a little exercise and some air. I don't really have any desire to sniff other dogs' asses or pee on mailboxes so the rest of the walking experience is pretty much geared towards him. If we run into someone else with a dog, and I can tell Floyd wants in on some of that action, I'm OK with it--but only for a limited time. I have perfected the art of smiling at the other dog owner and saying "Hi, how are you?" very softly so I don't have to a) take my glove off, go into my pocket, dig out my I Touch from underneath several poop bags and then quickly hit the "pause button" or b) take my earphones out after finally finding the best and most comfortable place for them. The clock is ticking for ass sniffing. Floyd needs to finish up his bid-ness because I can't fake any more of the conversation. I will either come across like some crazy lady who yells really loudly while trading pleasantries or I’ll have to resort to one of the options stated above. No thanks. Time to boogie. Floyd gets “the yank” if I feel a conversation coming on. He’s a big dog, he can handle it--plus he knows I’ll make up for it. I know of a house that has three dogs. They have the best mailbox on the block.
Item #4: Food
The food thing is really the only one I have ever second guessed myself on, but that didn’t last long. I think it was a Tuesday. I have friends who are really good about what they feed their kids. They’re giving them all these crazy, exotic foods while I’m proud of myself for thawing a bag of broccoli and carrots and putting them out with some ranch dressing. I entertained the idea of pureeing food and being creative, but who am I kidding? It’s not happening. I’m pretty conscious about a plate stacked with something from all four food groups and I’m all about “No dessert until your veggies are gone,” (or mostly gone) but that’s all you‘re getting with this mommy. I’m doing what my mom did, and although my kids might not turn out any better than me, I figure they can’t turn out any worse.
Item #5: Swear Words
My daughter, Sweet Pea, the one who is almost 4 years old, sometimes throws down a swear word. It doesn’t bother me so I don‘t get in her face about it. She’s not one to walk into a room, pants down low, hand held high: “What up, Mother F%$#er?“ but every once in a while she might drop an: “Oh $%#@.“ For some, it's a huge deal. For me, it’s not. First of all, it's funny when little kids swear. You know it and so do I. Second of all, it just doesn't matter right now. They're little kids. It will matter one day and when that time comes, I’ll be on it, but for now--WHO CARES? The kid stuff goes by so fast. We have such a short window for the “bad” stuff to be funny. It just doesn’t seem worth it to be all up in their faces about every little thing. There will come a day when I will actually have to listen to my husband and stop playing Eminem or I’ll have to get the parental advisory edition (gag), but for not now I hit for the mute button during the bad words and most of the time I make it. Sometimes I don’t. It’s not my fault--I’m probably half way on a curb trying to cut a corner saying something like “Damn, who the hell put that there?”
Hey, I’m a parent. I never said I was a good one.
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