Missin’ you

July 16, 2012July 16, 2012Leave a comment

Damn, I miss my boy. I miss his “MOM” squeal when I walk through the door. I miss him barreling at me with full speed only to place a most gentle kiss on my cheek. I miss him performing his way too sexy for a four year old dance moves all over the family room. I miss him asking me how my day was at work. I miss his magnificent smile when he draws a “F” for me. I miss carrying him upstairs with his arms wrapped tightly around my neck and his cheek against mine. I miss him begging for me to read just one more book to him. I miss evening kisses.

And all of this missing after just one night away from him. And after that same night wherein I told Jon it will be nice to have just one kid to deal with for a couple of days.

And then, within 24 hours. I can feel this longing to have him back home with me. Now, that is not to say that I want to give up my night of relaxation and freedom to not have to wrestle every 15 minutes. I just can’t get over how I miss him so quickly. It must be love….

We are lucky to have Jon’s parents so close and so willing and able to take Mario (and Maria) for a few days. As much as I miss him (and Ri when she’s gone) I know it’s a much-needed break on my end to be able to recharge and get my mind and body rested. Mothers and fathers need that respite. I have always felt that the best gift to a mom or dad is time away from their children…it is only through that distance that your appreciation and fondness for your kids grows deeper. And after three days away from Mario, I appreciate his insanity and rough housing and welcome it back into our way-too-quiet home.

Dad and horses

July 11, 2012Leave a comment

Jon came through for Maria tonight. Maria gets to participate in “crazy hat” day tomorrow at horse camp and she has been fretting about not having a crazy hat. I had hoped to get to the store today to find something for her or come home from work and help her make something but neither happened since I got stuck in negotiations all day and night. Jon found a camouflage hat and thought maybe she would think it was “crazy” enough. I knew better. Sure enough, she dismissed it within seconds. Jon and I went downstairs to try to find something else. I gave up after two minutes but he stayed down there.

About ten minutes later, he sauntered up the stairs. He was holding the hat and a stuffed animal horse. I didn’t put the two together. He walked over to Maria and told her he had an idea for a hat. He put the horse on top of the hat and tied the string on top of the horse’s back to secure it. He put the hat on her head. It was perfect… and Maria loved it. She gave Jon a huge hug and ran to look at it in the mirror. She even avoided a fuss when I took her picture.

Problem solving is one of Jon’s finer traits. You have no clue that he is even contemplating the problem but then he comes up with a solution out of the blue when you have either resolved that it won’t be fixed or you are continuing to come up with a way to fix it. There are times that we are sitting around after talking about some issue I had during the day and he mentions a way to solve the issue while I am on another completely different topic. His brain constantly churns until he finds a way to help out the people he loves. And I love him dearly for that. And Maria surely does, too.

Using our words

July 11, 2012July 11, 20121 Comment

My girl is loving horse camp this week. She had Hawaiian day today, and dressed herself so cute. She used those dollar store purchases well between the leis, flower barrettes, and grass skirt.

Not only did she look adorable but she also remembered our word of the day from Monday when she said to me after my morning run “I admonish you to stop sweating so much!” I have been trying to teach them a different word each day and Monday was “admonish.” Mario used the word in a sentence stating to Jon “I admonish you to stop watching tv.” I sweat too much and Jon watches too much tv. Lovely.

Yesterday, we learned “beguile.” Mario and Maria told me they had to go to the basement to get a stuffed animal when I asked them to clean up. When they came back up, they had no stuffed animals. They looked at me and said “we beguiled you!” Real cute as I had already cleared away the dishes.

I think we will study the word “conniving” tonight.

Quindlen comes through

July 10, 2012July 10, 20121 Comment

I love Anna Quindlen. Her piece on motherhood calms me when I start to fret about whether I am doing everything right with M&M. Last night I felt like mom of the year when I cooked pancakes and eggs with the kids, read them three books and played Go Fish with them. This morning I felt like the worst mama ever when I yelled at Mario for taking too long to put on his shoes and chided Maria for not brushing her hair.
Quindlen reminds me to remember that no one can tell me how to be the best mom or raise the best kids – I just gotta go with my gut and know that I’m doing my best. Motherhood challenges me to raise my game a notch – its harder than any job I have ever worked… but undoubtedly the most fulfilling.

“Mom, like you are so totally embarrassing!”

July 9, 2012July 9, 20122 Comments

Everything I do embarrasses my daughter… Everything.

I picked Maria up at a friend’s house on Sunday morning. I ran over to her friend’s house pushing her bike alongside of me so she could bike home. She likes to do that sometimes and sometimes she just wants the car so I took a gamble. I lost.

First, when I walked in the door, she gave me an absolute repulsed look. I was sweaty. Her worst pet peeve. She hates sweat and she jettisons to the other side of the room when I walk in after a run. Second, she flipped out when I told her I brought her bike. Flipped out. She started pointing her finger and demanding I get the car. When I gave her “the eye”, she still continued her tirade. She even continued after I warned her that she’d be punished. I then flipped out and took her into the other room to give her a tongue lashing. She began crying hysterically as I pulled her outside. She stood next to me as I pushed her bike on to the sidewalk and let it all out.

“Mom, I am embarrassed to ride my bike in a dress. It’s so embarrassing. I don’t want to do it.”

My heart ached. I felt sick. My girl is so concerned about things I don’t think twice about. I explained to her that she needed to tell me that she was embarrassed and talk to me about her concerns instead of being sassy and confrontational. I hugged her and let her go inside while I went home and got the car. I chose to do that because I truly believed that she was seriously distraught at the thought of riding a bike in her dress. I could understand that a reasonable person would be distressed about riding in a dress even though I could care less about it. I wanted to respect her feelings but also have her respect her relationship with me.

As I ran home, I held back my tears. I grew sadder and sadder about the incident with Ri. It reminded me of my rough times with my mom when I was a teenager. But I was a teenager! She’s only 7. God help me. I also realized that I was PMS and very emotional so I tried to keep it all in perspective. Jon was a dear and picked Ri up for me. When she came home she ran upstairs and hugged me. We both apologized. I hope we can continue such easy forgiveness in the future.

We met my mom at Ikea early in the afternoon and I told her about my run-in with Maria. I sympathized with how much it must have hurt her to have me act so sassy and rude to her when I was younger (never fails that your behavior comes back to you). Maria heard me and commented “Mom, I was just helping you see how your mom felt.” She is a piece of work. I gave her a nuggie for that one.

This morning I packed her lunch for her first day of horse camp. I wrote “Maria loves horses” on her brown bag and showed it to her.

“Mom, really? That is so embarrassing!”

Yep, I might as well saddle up on the embarrassment front because it’s not going away anytime soon.

Burning up

July 7, 2012Leave a comment

We are now into the second week of above 90 degree temperatures, and I am seriously contemplating a move to Alaska. I am tired of walking outside and immediately dripping in sweat. And heaven help me if I need to walk a few blocks – I look like I just emerged from a swimming pool. I arrived at a meeting three blocks away from my office last week and blotted sweat from my face for a half hour before I found some relief. The worst part is that I start to get cold when I walk into air conditioning because of the cold air mixing with the massive amounts of water on my skin. So, I look even more attractive with sweat pouring off me and goosebumps covering me.

The kids are over it, too. Maria wants nothing to do with the outside unless it involves lots of shade or water. Mario can hang a little better than any of us but he’s even given up lately. So, when I took off a half day on Friday afternoon, the question was what to do in 100 degree heat? We decided to pick up our cousin, Alana for an afternoon play date. We hit the store for a slip-n-slide first. But when we came home and set it up, it had a huge tear in it. Never fails. So we set off for the pool where I wrestled with all three of them for an hour (when will the day come when I can just chill with a book and they play by themselves?! But then I will miss them…).

We hit Wendy’s for dinner – I sat by myself as directed by Maria. She likes to sit with Alana by herself. I made her take Mario, too, which she begrudgingly did but then tried to boss him around the entire time. He just flirts with Alana the entire time asking her to give him a kiss and telling her he will marry her. He is a little Casanova even with his cousin. After dinner, I needed an evening stroll to wake up after all the french fries we devoured. We decided to walk to a few blocks to a shady park. Maria rode her bike, I strolled Mario and Alana walked with me. As much as I hate the heat, I hate even worse to be in a car. Our park trip got cut short because of an urgent text message from Alana’s dad that she needed to get home. The kids started to walk with me (we had to leave Maria’s bike because her legs hurt – my girl) but they all soon became tired and I ended up strollering Maria and Mario and putting Alana on my back. Nope, not kidding. I looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame pushing a double-wide stroller.

I know when winter rolls around I am going to wish it was warmer and forget all about these sweltering abysmal days. That’s how the mind works – it’s why I am able to think about having another baby without drugs. But for now, I will continue to wish for icicles and mittens and sled-rides.

Big Time Rush is in the house!!!

July 6, 2012July 6, 20121 Comment

My first concert with my mom was Prince in Riverfront Coliseum. I painted my face purple and found every article of purple clothes available to wear. I only remember little snippets of the evening – picking up my mom’s friend in Clifton, the grandiosity of the Coliseum, dancing my heart out, and watching Prince perform some sexy moves!

Maria’s first concert was a tad more subdued and kid-friendly (I got introduced to the ways of the world early with Prince’s music!). We saw Big Time Rush last night at Nationwide Arena with about five thousand dressed-up, screaming, heart-swept girls and their moms (half of whom were just as dressed up as their daughters). Maria and I showed up in our running shorts and t-shirts (Ri sported her homemade Big Time Rush t-shirt made by Aunt Laura – so much cooler than the t-shirts for sale).

We had awesome seats on the first level. We visited Alana up in her seats before the show. Maria wanted to sit with her, which I knew would happen, but I wanted to at least check out our seats down below. I made Maria head down with me just to check them out and told her if she wanted to head back to Alana after that, we could. When we got to our seats, we found that they were pretty close to the stage. Between that and the fact that Alana had brought a friend with her to the show (Maria has her dad in her – she likes to have her time alone with her cousin or friend and does not like intruders!), we stayed in our seats. It was worth it – we had a killer view and Logan walked up to our seats and sang a song one step away from Ri! I about had a heart attack – reliving my youth but Maria reacted in the complete opposite manner. She did not want to rush down and touch Logan. She did not want to act giddy and scream when he got near. She wanted to be, and was, completely composed. While I nudged her to shake Logan’s hand, she refused standing quietly in front of him. The girls behind us were ready to hyper-ventilate and Ri stood with perfect composure. Is it that she’s only 7? I don’t think so – I think that is deep inside her and who she is – at age 7 and 37. No screaming madly for her – she is the calm and collected one (even more than her mom!).

So, when we returned to our seats, she gave me a piece of her mind.

“Mom, you embarrassed me when you did that. Please don’t do that to me.”

Her big blue eyes stared up at me in the most genuine, heartfelt manner, and I felt two feet tall. It was the saddest moment for me because here I was thinking that she was as excited as I was! But I’m glad it happened because it solidified in my brain how much my daughter needs her space and is completely opposite to me when it comes to behavior at these events. Nonetheless, after I explained to her why I nudged her and why I was excited, she forgave me and shook off the embarrassment smiling at the thrill of having been so close to Logan.

But she stayed true to herself throughout the rest of the show staying calm and collected in her chair while screaming fans surrounded her – every once in a while she would stand up and pump her fist or shake her booty but it was far and few between. My girl is way too cool.

Thought for today: Life is Good

July 4, 2012July 4, 20123 Comments

Why is it that we convince ourselves with each new year that the fireworks show is going to be an amazing time full of laughter and hugs and unforgettable moments? When instead it is full of spats and whining and trying to find a good spot to set up camp? Ok, so I exaggerate a tad. After all, I believe life is as good as you want to make it so even though there were the spats and the whining and the search for a perfect viewing spot, there was also laughter when the cookies were brought out, hugs when the fireworks sparkled in the sky, and unforgettable moments when I witnessed Jon and Maria holding hands as they walked back to the car.

I haven’t so much learned to lessen my expectations through the years as I have learned to change my thinking. I used to think “this night will be perfect” and when one thing went wrong, I would get upset and believe the entire night was a failure. Maybe it’s a matter of getting older (or maybe it’s a matter of reading lots of self-help books!) but I have improved my thinking in these circumstances. I go into an event now with the thought that no matter how things go, I am lucky to be able to experience the event and have time with my loved ones or by myself. I am privileged to be able to walk to the event, be able to talk to people, be able to eat good food. So when Mario trips and cries or Maria whines or the weather is sweltering hot, I can acknowledge them for what they are and move on to experiencing the better. My results are much more positive and gratifying. And so when I got home last night, I thanked life for giving me time with Jon and M&M to watch fireworks and smile at one another and have tender moments together (trying to get in the car quick enough to not shine our headlights on spectators).

This holiday has allowed me to sharpen my thinking skills even more between the 90 degree, hour and a half parade and the irritable, sun-drenched, fatigued children. But, alas, we were all together downing the waters and watching the floats and having some laughs with cousins and old teachers and friends.

We even managed a bike ride to Stauf’s for a thirst-quenching iced coffee. Maria is becoming a bike pro using only one hand at times and standing up off the seat at others. Mario still enjoys his mama riding him on her bike, which I still secretly love, too since Maria is already pushing away like a 15 year old to be her own person (it’s too soon!).

And so, I continue to revel in my positive thinking as we head over to Jon’s niece’s house for a cookout. How lucky I am to have as much as I do in all aspects of my life – family, friends, home, health, work. No matter if I get a burnt burger tonight or Mario throws a tantrum or the slip-n-slide fails – life is still good on this July 4, 2012.

Running on pie

July 3, 2012Leave a comment

As I ran my same jogging course on Monday morning, I received a much-needed out-of-the-ordinary gem from NPR’s Allison Aubrey. Aubrey hosted a segment on pie-making. And although I do not have fond memories of my grandmother or my mom making homemade pies, it brought up a rush of good emotions as I continued down my jogging path. Aubrey’s description of getting the pie crust just right – not kneading it and keeping little balls throughout it – made me yearn to travel to New York and take a class. I appreciated the way that she intertwined her mother with her story of making a perfect pie.

Like Aubrey, I don’t have memories of my mom slaving in the kitchen over a magnificent pie (she did make a heck of a peanut butter coconut ball though!). But I do have memories of my father’s cherry pies. I don’t remember him slaving away in the kitchen, however; I just have memories of eating delicious homemade cherry pie with him and my mom. I remember helping pick cherries from our cherry tree out back, and suffering a nasty bee sting when I decided not to wear shoes one day. But those pies were well worth it – dripping in cherry goo and always having a slight burnt edge around them. Perfect crispiness.

Food creates memories, and I associate my dad’s cherry pies with childhood summers full of running around outside and hanging with friends and walking the neighborhood. Coincidentally, my husband likely associates his grandmother’s homemade pumpkin pies with exciting summers in Marietta. His grandma made a mean pumpkin pie back in the day that Jon always raves about when we buy pumpkin pie during Fall. “Nothing beats my grandma’s pumpkin pie” he always tells me. My mother-in-law also bakes a stupendous homemade pumpkin pie, and it is by far the best I have ever tasted (I didn’t get to meet Jon’s grandma before she passed). Patty learned how to make her pie from her mother. Indeed, so many of the recipes that Patty has she received from her mom, and you can feel the love in the room when Patty talks about her mom and her cooking.

When the segment wrapped up with Aubrey’s daughter and mother in the kitchen tasting Aubrey’s blueberry pie, I resolved that I would begin a baking tradition with Maria and Mario. I love how those resolutions wash over me so quickly and resolutely while I am out in the open air free from all constraints and time lines and chores. “Maybe I will even sign up for a class with M&M and Jon or my mom or dad or stepmom or mother-in-law. The ideas were flowing.

Then I got home and realized I was late for a meeting. I ran upstairs to shower and get dressed. Mario had Maria in a head lock and Maria was smacking his head. When I came downstairs to leave, milk laid all over the table and cereal remnants were across the floor. A pack of goldfish were torn apart and chocolate sauce stuck to the counter. I asked them why everything was a mess.

“We wanted to make breakfast ourselves, mom, so you didn’t need to be bothered.” And then I looked down and saw a bowl with a bright beaming yellow glob laying in it. Maria surprised me with microwaved eggs. She had broken two eggs into a bowl and stuck them in the microwave for a minute and a half. She fed me a bite and asked how they were.

“Delicious!” I told her. She looked at Mario and gave him a high-five.

And so, my cooking ventures may start out slow and different than planned, but we will get there…eventually!

Some bacon with your splinter?

June 26, 2012Leave a comment

The evening started out enjoyable but plummeted downhill very quickly. Maria, Mario and I biked down to the park to meet Sarah, Jorge, and Stella for a little picnic dinner. We packed up all sorts of goodies – ham sandwiches, spaghetti, cheez-its, watermelon (yeah, our “picnics” are four-course meals) – and squealed with joy when we spotted Sarah, Jorge and Stella under the pine tree.

We ate together for a few minutes but then the kids split away to climb the tree. Within 10 minutes, I heard Mario crying. He sat on the ground next to the tree with one shoe off holding his foot. I knew right away what we were facing, and I dreaded it. A splinter. A splinter half the size of a sewing needle, if that. But to Mario it was the size of Mount McKinley and there was no way that anyone was touching it. Sarah asked to look at it but as soon as she touched the bottom of his foot to turn it towards her, he screamed and cried hysterically. She got in one fingernail push and he went ballistic. Jorge tried his magic, too, but to no avail. I knew we were going to need tweezers because he would not let us push for a long enough time to get it out.

“Mom, stop touching it” he continued to scream every time I tried to get close to him. I explained to him that we needed to get it out quickly or it would lodge into him deeper (nothing like trying to instill more fear into a kid in order to get something done). He agreed to head back home with me to get the tweezers. As I carried him to the bike, he continued to weep and he told me to hurry so that the splinter didn’t go any deeper. My fear-mongering was working.

We got home and I had the brilliant idea to do what my mom told me my grandma did to her when she was little – wrap bacon around the splinter. I got out a slice of bacon and wrapped it around Mario’s foot. This action did bring a faint smile to Mario’s face until he realized that I’d still need to use the tweezers. Allegedly, the salt in the bacon draws the splinter out. I believe my grandma used to wrap bacon around my mom and her brothers and sisters’ splinters all night long. There was no way I was waiting that long for Mario – he would have had a coronary. So, we kept it on for ten minutes and then I propped him on the couch to work on getting the splinter out. You would have thought that we were performing open heart surgery on him. He was hysterical and bawling and jittery. I kept trying to calm him down but as soon as I did, he immediately started it back up when I moved my hand towards his foot.

“Mom, let me tell you one more thing! Please mom, don’t touch me, let me tell you just one more thing.” He begged like this over and over. I finally grabbed his foot and held my other arm over his arms but the little guy is strong and he used his free leg to kick me. My temper started to flare at this point – 45 minutes after he first got the splinter. He looked at me with huge tears running down his face and exclaimed:

“I hate God because he created splinters and they hurt me!”

My poor boy. I knew that there was no turning back for him, and we were just going to have to go for it. I called in Sarah and Jorge. Sarah held his arms while I held his other foot. Jorge took the tweezers and began to dig. Nothing. Except screams of fear from Mario. He was begging for mercy and for us to stop all action. Jorge eventually handed the tweezers my way and I just ripped into the skin on the bottom of his foot. After two tries, I got it. A little splinter the size of a mouse’s hair. This miniscule piece of wood caused an hour of pure hell.

Mario was traumatized afterwards holding onto me for a good ten minutes. When I told him I’d take him to the library, he barely moved. His core had been shaken. I know one thing – he will never be a carpenter when he gets older.

"MOM!"

Adventures in the Life of a Working Mama

Category: Parenting