Our wild girl
With ladybug gloves
And
Pink swirled garden boots
Perpetual laughter as you
Tease and poke
You Found One!
The most perfect strawberry
Of the bunch
But not
As perfect
As YOU, our love!
Category: Kids
Motherhood = Absurdity
“To write well in the mother-child arena, a person must understand that the essential condition of motherhood isn’t pleasure or wonderment or even terror — although there’s plenty of that. The essential condition is absurdity.”
I love this quote by Judith Newman of the New York Times writing about Anne Enright’s new book Making Babies. How true of an insight. Newman opines on why writing about children is tough: because 95% of child rearing is incredibly boring. It’s only the 5% of pure, raw joy that keeps us going. It’s easy to understand that 5% as mothers but what about the 95%? Newman questions “How did I survive spending most of 2004, the year my twin sons were 3, in front of a tank of sea lions? What got me through the years when the only way to persuade one son to brush his teeth was to hum the theme song to “The Pink Panther”?
I love her questions because she is being so real.
How many times do I need to wrestle Mario before he gets tired out? What gets me through playing baby with Maria every night? Why is it that the only way to get them upstairs to change in their pjs every night is to chase them like I am a big, kid-eating monster? How do I always fall into the trap of reading three extra books when I made it clear that I would only read one before bed? What am I thinking when I agree to let M&M help me make chocolate chip pancakes and eggs and powdered chocolate milk (can we say “complete mess”)?
I go back to the quote above… the essential condition of motherhood is absurdity. I look at all of these crazy antics I engage in and all of the hoops I climb through for these munchos, and I realize, yes, it is absurd. It is completely nuts. Insane. And I would never have dreamed of doing one-fourth of it when I was single and 25 years old. But would I change a bit of it now? Not a chance.
Spending Mom’s day with the kids
Mother’s Day begins two hours from now. Jon asked me what I wanted to do on my special day. In the initial moment, I thought “all I want is a day to myself.” Just head north to your mom’s house or east to your cousin’s house and let me have the day to do whatever I want whenver I want.
But after a few seconds of mulling the question over, I realized what would happen if they did leave. I would love the first couple of hours by myself and then I would be up at Stauf’s and see a couple with their baby and think of my pumpkins. I would miss them and Jon and wish they were home with me even if it would require me to listen to them beg for me to play with them or read them a book or take them to the library. Surely there would be moments during the day when I would second guess my decision and want my solitude but they would be outweighed by the joy in being with my family. After all, could I laugh as hard as I do when Maria performs her “Oh, I know you didn’t” routine? Or when Mario dances to a rap song? Could I appreciate the richness of the soil without digging into it with Mario? Could I enjoy watching a monarch butterfly fluttering around the flowers without listening to Maria talk about its delicate wings?
No, these little pumpkins are such a big part of my world now and being without them on Mom’s Day just feels wrong. After all, the reason I am celebrating this day is because of these two munch-balls. So, as the clock inches towards midnight, I think about our day tomorrow – play fish, throw the tennis ball, take a bike ride and get a ton of kisses and hugs from those sweet babes of mine all day long….
TGIF
Ten Reasons to be Grateful For Today…
1. Gorgeous powder blue sky with cotton ball clouds and 70 degree temperature = perfect biking to work weather.
2. Lunch with Mom at Mario’s school – free Panera with a big chocolate chip cookie! Running around the playground with Mario, spinning in plastic seats and playing tag in the muscle room. Mario made me a gorgeous beaded necklace so “I can remember him every time I wear it.”
3. Playing soccer with Maggie and Mario in the back yard (except when Maggie stole the ball from me and scored)!
4. Figuring out which drapes to get for the living room window and hall window. So exciting to branch out and take a walk on the wild side! I am not matching the color of the drapes with the furniture – crazy!
5. Seeing Jon on a scooter that his friend wants him to buy. He looked like a ten-year old who just got the present he begged his parents for all year.
6. Taking Maria to school and listening to Jack’s CD in the car. Maria asked if Jack wrote one of the songs after he broke up with Chelsea. I told her I was not sure and that we should ask him since we have the good fortune of being related to the singer of the band! She stopped me in my tracks and told me that we should not ask Jack such a question because it may make him sad and she doesn’t want to see her uncle sad. Also, loved seeing her in the cowboy boots that Grandma Meg got her for her b-day!
7. Going for a bike ride with Mario; he still fits in the baby seat on my bike! We biked all over Grandview; hit the park for some slide tag and Giant Eagle for a flower to plant outside.
8. Watching a yellow finch land on the branch of a japanese maple tree.
9. Talking to my mom about her new pup, Lou, and how everyone at the doggie day care thinks he is the best dog ever (so funny to see her as such a proud doggy mama!).
10. Eating Orange Leaf’s brownie batter and birthday cake yogurt with oreo and graham cracker topping. Mario got his pineapple, as always. And sitting outside together talking about desert animals.
Muscle Man and Coach
Mario officially turned into a muscle head tonight. It started while Jon and him were outside grilling steak and burgers for dinner. Mario found a set of five-pound weights in the garage and he started curling them. Jon called me outside, and I stopped in my tracks. There was my 40 pound son pushing weights over his head and grunting like a power lifter. I can’t tell you how proud I was! He is taking after his mama!
Jon called me out a few minutes later and I found Mario with no shirt pumping iron. He informed me that he lifts better with his shirt off. Of course. We sat down to eat, and he begged me to wash his weights so he could take them to his room. I can only imagine opening his bedroom door and seeing him lifting weights in his sweats while jammin’ it out to Black Eyed Peas. In the middle of eating, Mario turned to Jon and asked “Can I be done with my food so I can go outside and lift weights?”
After eating a few more bites, he and Maria went outside. Jon whistled at me as I cleaned the dishes. I walked over to the back door and there was sergeant Maria belting out commands to Mario.
“First you do ten weight curls. Then you go to the horse and balance. Then you run to the back yard. Then you hit the baseball and sprint back. Then you go to the front porch and pump your arm. Then run back.” Mario soaked in every word and performed every activity shouted out. With each activity, Maria would yell “Ok, Mario, move to the next!” When he finished, she patted him on the back and told him “good job.” While Mario has got a lot of my energy and drive, Maria has a lot of her dad’s commanding style. She has no problem barking orders to Mario and making sure that he abides by her commands. She also has Jon’s concern for people and knows when praise is needed. When Mario returned from his obstacle course, she knew she needed to pump him up and tell him good job.
I our initial thoughts about these two crazy kids remain: Maria will be the executive calling the shots behind her mahogany desk and Mario will be the pro soccer player (or weightlifter) playing his heart out.
Gratitude Runneth Over
I have been struggling over the last few weeks with the meaning of my existence. Ya know, just a light topic to ponder during the day. Colleagues think I am a blast!
In actuality, it is not so much pondering the meaning of my existence as it is pondering what I want to get out of this life. What do I want to accomplish? Where will I be in five years? These heavy questions can weigh me down very quickly, and I have been searching for a way to lift myself out of it when I move from productive questioning to destructive judgment.
I have found that one exercise is particularly helpful in stabilizing me, at the least, and boosting me, at the most. It is the practice of gratitude. As soon as I catch myself wallowing in self-pity or feeling like I am not contributing enough, I think of something for which I am grateful. Today it was a family soccer game. Jon tried to score on Mario. Maria and I ran around waiting for our turn. Jon and I tried to see how many head balls we could do to one another before the ball fell to the ground (don’t ask, it was not impressive). We all laughed together at Mario’s dives and Maria’s antics. It was a most enjoyable half of an hour as the sun began to set. It allowed me to remember to not get so wrapped up in the analysis of everything but to just relax (not a mainstream word in my vocab).
I have an incredible family and I have a wonderful home and I mean so much to M&M and Jon and friends and cousins. I don’t have to solve world hunger in order to have accomplished something in my life. That is not to say that I want to cease questioning where I am and what I want. To the contrary, this practice of gratitude actually motivates me to want to do more, to challenge myself, to think about what I want to do in the years ahead.
I am trying to consciously practice this art of gratitude everyday because I feel happier and less anxious when I do it. It relaxes me. And it is not that hard. I could look solely to M&M everyday for something for which to be grateful but I can also look to Jon (most days!), colleagues, the grocery store, you name it. I think we have so many things happen to us through the day, and we encounter so many people, that we could all fill up our lives practicing gratitude.
Remember that teenager who held the door for you or that old lady who smiled so sweetly at you? Remember when someone laughed at your lame joke or told you how great you looked? Remember when your child looked up at you and said “I love you?” Remember when your partner gave you a goodbye kiss? Remember when your favorite song came on the radio? Remember when you spotted a cardinal on the rose-bush?
Spoken like a true mother
Maria, Mario and I sat down to dinner last night. Mario had his toys next to him at the table, and within a minute of beginning to eat, he took out a Ben 10 figurine and started playing with it. I began to tell him that he was going to be sent to his room if he did not stop playing and start eating but Maria interrupted me,
“Mom, I got it. You just eat your dinner and enjoy. I will take care of this.”
She proceeded to give Mario a lecture about needing to eat his food in order to get big and go to kindergarten. She sounded just like me and Jon. When he continued to play with his toy, I tried to chime in again.
She stopped me by grabbing my forearm. “Mom, I really got this” she said as she grit her teeth. She stood up and grabbed the toys from the table and placed them over on the other side of the room. While she walked to the other side of the room, she told Mario he would only get them if he ate his dinner. I thought that he would attack her for sure. But instead he watched her take his toys and did not say a peep. I can’t say that he chowed his food down after she talked to him, but he didn’t go hysterical either. It was quite a sight. I told Maria that she was going to be a good nanny. She told me that there needs to be consequences.
Yeah, my 7 year-old daughter is informing me that there must be consequences. If I was skeptical before, I am no longer. Maria had to be a mother in a past life. Maybe even mine?!
Meanwhile, she was back to her 7 year-old self tonight as we ate dinner. She called Mario a “poopy-butt” and he called her “stupid.” When I told them both to behave, she copped a seven-year old attitude and turn her chair from me. There is my darling girl I know and love.
After dinner, we scurried around to find shoes and clean up in order to go see the elephants that arrived in town for the circus. They stop the rail car about a mile down the street and walk up Grandview Avenue. We head over to see them every year. This year, Sherri and Jessica and Eli and Isaiah met up with us to see them. I had touted the event as a great time. But this year was completely different from past years. The route changed because the circus is at a different location. We used to play around at the local park in years’ past because the elephants went right by it. This year, we waited on the sidewalk in front of a friend’s house.
Last year, there were more elephants and animals in the parade. I believe there was a clown, too. It lasted for 20 minutes. This year there were six elephants and ten horses and the parade lasted two minutes max. Poor Eli and Isaiah. Isaiah summed it up the best when he turned to Jessica and cried “That is it, mama?!” To make up for the lack of entertainment, we let Isaiah and Mario wrestle in the friend’s lawn, which was more entertaining than the elephants.
We walked back to the house, and said goodbye to Sherri and the crew. The kids took separate baths, got on their nighties, and watched a show. I put on my nightie, too, and listened to Maria talk about art class. As I rinsed my face off with water, Maria said “do you know what, mom?” I said “what, pumpkin?” She said “I love you so much.” Spoken like a true mother.
Sitting still
Maria and I hung out this evening while Jon and Mario drove to Marion. Prior to their drive to Marion, we made dinner. Actually, I should say, Maria made dinner. She overheard a lady at the salon talking about how she made dinner for her mom starting when she was 6 years old, and that was all it took to get Maria in that mindset.
She poured pancake mix and water into a bowl. She filled a bowl full of chocolate chips and tried to mash them. When that didn’t work, she microwaved them (smart girl). She added the chocolate into the pancake mix. I poured them on the griddle and she flipped them. She also made eggs (she microwaved them). She got out our plates and syrup. She nearly did it all! Another year and I expect chicken parmesan and shrimp scampi…. And the chocolate pancakes were pretty darn good. I could have stood a few chips in them too but overall they hit the spot. Mario ate a few but he was too excited about going to Grandma Ionno’s house.
After dinner, Maria took off with me on her bike. We stopped at her friend’s house to play in the sprinkler (in her clothes) and by the time we left, it was close to 8:15. We cranked it home and I pulled out the lawn mower. I told Maria to grab a book or her markers and come outside while I mowed. A few minutes later, I saw her on the deck with her water and crazy straw. She sat on the deck chair watching me without any book or markers. When I moved to the front, she moved with me sitting on the front step with, still, just her water and straw. I kept waiting for her to grab something from inside or complain about being bored but she didn’t. She just waited for me to finish while sitting patiently and thinking about … well, I have no clue. And that is good. It was her time to be still and mindful. And I was so excited to see her be able to do this, and not be begging for the iPad or leapster or even a book.
Something I have a hard time doing.
But seeing her renewed my challenge to take that itme to be mindful myself. Funny how your children look up to you without having any idea how much you learn from them. And so tonight, I sat at the kitchen table for a whole five minutes before I scanned the computer for the latest news and updates. Hey, it’s better than nothing!
High Heels Only, Ma’am
Maria had two wishes for the start of her birthday. The first was for me to not workout on the morning of her birthday so I could do her hair. Piece of cake (she never lets me touch her hair so I was charged up about that one).
The second wish was for me to wear high heels when I walked into her school to drop her off. Not such a piece of cake.
“Mom, please wear high heels on my birthday. All the other moms wear fancy clothes and high heels. None of them wear fancy clothes and gym shoes like you do, mom. It’s embarrasing.”
Yeah – I plainly see the start of the “embarassing mom syndrome” shining through her new 7-year old self. I would never have imagined that I could embarass Maria by simply wearing gym shoes with my work outfits (now I know how to scare her!). But then again this is the girl who finds my laugh embarrasing because it’s too loud (although she fails to see how loud her voice can boom when she wants it to).
So, I stepped into my high heel shoes today and walked into Maria’s school. My feet ached just from the half of a block that we walked (Maria had chosen my most stylish but least comfortable heels for me to wear). Maria held her head up high as we passed her friends. She pointed out my shoes to certain girlfriends who looked like they would be impressed with such a shoe selection. I quickly changed into my gym shoes when I left her school, and when I came home tonight in my work outfit and gym shoes, Maria let out a deep sigh.
“Mom, what happened to the high heels I gave you this morning?!”
I felt like a teenager again being questioned about the rest of the $20 bill I received to get a $5 lunch.
“My feet were killing me, Ri,” I responded.
“You have to get used to heels, mom. But I will let you wear flats to dinner tonight.”
She does love me….
Happy 7th Birthday, my darling girl
Sweet Maria:
Tomorrow, at 2:49 pm, you will be seven years old. Seven years old. Seven.
At seven days old, you slept for hours on end in your frilly bassinet; the sun shining onto your perfect round face.
At seven months old, you did not want to leave your mom and dad, and you never broke a smile! You were a little buddha with a somber expression.
At one year and seven months, you loved to sit in your diaper and rub you silk bunny against your cheek.
At two years and seven months, you loved playing with your kitchen set and your baby dolls and purses; you learned to go potty all by yourself – alleluia; and you had quite a temper when you were not allowed to watch Dora.
At three years and seven months, you took good care of your baby brother, feeding and holding him and finding his binky. He had a different brand of binky than you, thank goodness, because you had not given up your binky yet!
At four years and seven months, you loved to ride up and down the street on your princess bike and eat Jeni’s ice cream. You earned the nickname “the Muscle” at preschool because you protected kids from bullies.
At five years and seven months, you had started kindergarten. You sat at a desk with your name on it and worked on your letters and numbers and made new friends. You had a sleep over with all of your girlfriends and danced around the house all night. In the summer, you jumped off the high dive!
At six years and seven months, you had started first grade! You dressed yourself every morning and made your own lunch! You made yourself barbecued chicken hot pockets and lasagna and wrapped them tightly in foil. You learned to read and ride your bike with no training wheels! You started listening to Justin Bieber and Katy Perry and dreamed about meeting James in Big Time Rush.
At seven years old, you are a most animated, joyful being. You smile constantly. You laugh heartily. You love your family and friends. You could eat spaghetti and meatballs every day and top it off with Orange Leaf yogurt bowls. You love to climb trees. You concern yourself with others. You look out for your little brother and still cuddle with your dad and me. You question things and aren’t scared to disagree. You stand up for yourself. You care about the Earth. You are comfortable with yourself. And you are absolutely amazing beyond words, my darling girl. Happy 7th birthday; we love you to the moon and stars and sun… and back.
"MOM!" 