“Mom, like you are so totally embarrassing!”

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.

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Burning up

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!!!

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.

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Thought for today: Life is Good

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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).

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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.

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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!).

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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

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!

Triplets for Ri

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I am a grandma. Maria had triplets on Saturday afternoon – Sarah, Jessica, and Emily. She told me that the birth was easy and she was able to run around with them hours later. Their “births” occurred at Toys-R-Us in Kenwood on our way home from Louisville. She begged me to buy the triplets for her and I refused at first. But then I thought back to my days as a little girl with my dolls and I couldn’t resist.

She has been taking care of them ever since Saturday. They cry and giggle and burp and say “mama.” Pretty cute. She wrapped them in a blanket at Grandma Lolo’s house and walked them outside while my mom walked Lou. She invented a new diaper for them that just soaks in the pee and poop so there is no cleaning necessary. She fed them their bottles and successfully juggled keeping them all content and happy. She is super mom.

In fact, I see her future as a super mom handling 5 kids at a time. She was at the dinner table with Grandma Lolo and Papa Rod and Rod told her he had to go into work for 12 hours to fix power lines. She responded “I am glad I’m not old enough to do that work!” I Indeed, she would much rather work with babies. She is a natural, after all. Anyone that can feed two babies and get her little brother to help feed the other newborn rather than play his newest Ben Ten game has certainly got innate talent.

Don’t sweat the small stuff

I came home from work last night needing some serious big hugs from Maria and Mario.  Work has been kickin’ my a– lately.  But it is nice to jump on my bike for a ride in the open air after work rather than getting into a hot car.  And to my surprise, the kids were waiting near the back door when I walked out of the garage.  They got smothered with kisses. Over and over.

I laid with them later in the evening and watched them drift off to sleep.  I love how their eyes are wide open when I head over to sit next to them, and they swear that they will stay awake until midnight because they are Not Tired!  And then after a back rub or foot massage, I see their eyelids begin to droop and their cheeks begin to turn toward the soft pillow.  And then they are out.  And how beautiful they both are so quiet and still.  As I laid with them, I thought about how fortunate I was to have them in my life – day in and day out.  Sure, there were moments that I wished I had two minutes to be alone but those moments were overshadowed by their character and lightness.

After sitting with them for a bit, I walked into the kitchen for a late-night ice cream bar, and a review of the latest news.  I found a nugget of a piece by Ann Bauer in Salon that struck me, and made me even more cognizant of the fleeting moments we have with our kids.  As they say “time flies when you are having fun” – even when you don’t feel like you are having fun (i.e., changing a diaper at 2 am or quieting a screaming kid in the grocery store).  Bauer succeeded in making me take a step back last night from all of the chaos going on in my head with work and camps and deadlines, and breathe.  Breathe and stare at my unbelievably gorgeous, darling kids.  Because one day I will be standing in the bleachers, too, just like Bauer, and I want to be able to testify that I lived to my fullest with them, and consciously tried to limit the number of regrets that I would experience as a mom raising two kids and juggling work and being a strong partner to Jon and taking care of family and friends, and being a community advocate. 

Bauer’s piece provided a welcome reminder to enjoy the small stuff of life and not get weighed down by the other.

Beating the flu bug

Poor Ri sauntered into my room two nights ago complaining of feeling sick. She said her belly hurt. We laid together in the bed with me rubbing her back and she moaning in pain. A half hour later, she hurled her evening snack – an apple with peanut butter – onto our blankets and pillows. And so it began – our night of ups and downs, crying and pain. Poor girl; I don’t know if she was more upset with being sick or missing out on horse camp.

I kept hoping that she’d wake up feeling fine but no such luck. I got Mario situated with cereal, ran to work for two hours and came back home for the day after a phone call from Ri begging me to leave work and be with her. I laid with her the rest of the day. She is a beautiful sight – even when sick. Her soft tanned skin and huge blue eyes staring over at me. She whispered “are you glad you came home to be with me mom?”

“Of course.” I replied.
“Thank you for leaving work, mom.”

What a doll baby.

Mario got a full dose of tv and computer usage throughout the day. David tried to take him to the pool but he wanted to stay near me. I kept telling myself that I’d miss all of this clinginess one day in order not to go crazy between the two of them whining for me through day and night. I just kept wishing Maria would turn a corner. She is usually a machine rocking whatever bug in her right out of her in 24 hours. But this one is no joke and has taken her down for the count.

I made Mario lay down with us last night at 8:30. He was asleep by 8:45 (baseball practice and no nap through the day may be the key to an early bed time!). I was happy to have him down so I could focus all my energy on making Ri feel better. We played I Spy in the bedroom and talked about silly things she did as a baby. She finally dozed off at 10:30.

Jon got in at midnight and promptly slept in Ri’s bed to avoid any possible infiltration of the “bug.” He flew back a day early to take care of his baby girl and help me out, which means the world to me and to Ri (when I told her dad was coming home early she smiled and said “Dad’s the best.” I didn’t take it personal.). I woke at 6:45 am and made myself roll out of bed to take a run. The day before I had eaten three donuts, a bag of Cheetos, ice cream bars, and a block of cheese. My body craved a run.

Mario caught me putting on my running shorts and pleaded to come with me. His little sunken blue eyes and baby lips mouthing “please mama” pushed me over the edge and I put on his sweater and took him to the stroller (yes, he insists on a sweater in 75 degree weather). We cranked out five miles together before the donuts from the day before reared their ugly heads and made my body say “STOP RUNNING!”

I returned home to my hubby and daughter hanging together upstairs. Two peas in a pod. Maria was so happy to have him near her. I got dressed for work and gave Maria a kiss. “No, I want daddy!” she commanded.

Yes, that’s a mother’s world. We are with our babies all day and night but shoved over to the side when dad comes home. No problem though. I’d much rather see the love between daughter and father than not. And as a daughter myself, I know I’m in her heart no matter what.

When I checked on her this morning, she told me she was feeling a bit better. She had eaten a Popsicle and kept it down. “I just want to eat, mom!”

Now, that’s the girl we all know and love!

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Dad saves the day!

After that entire wrenching conversation about whether tooth fairies are real last night, I forgot to take Maria’s tooth from under her pillow and put money there instead. Nice job, Mary.

Jon and I were getting ready for work and Maria and Mario were sitting on the bed talking about the latest Turtleman episode. Maria shot up out of nowhere and yelled “I forgot to look under my pillow!”

My stomach sank to the basement. “Shit!” I mouthed to Jon. By that time, she had lifted her pillow only to find her tooth still laying there. She looked back at me quizzically and began sobbing. I went into reactive mode.

“Baby, it’s ok. I bet the tooth fairy heard our conversation last night and decided to wait to take your tooth until you really believed in her.”

“But mom, when I closed my eyes last night, I really believed in her. And she didn’t come.”

More sobs from her. More guilt from me.

Jon walked in the room. “Maria, this happened to me when I was little. I didn’t believe in the tooth fairy and she did t take my tooth. But when I began to believe, she came” Maria looked at him to see if he had on his straight face.He did.

She seemed to be turning a corner but then the sobs poured again. I hugged her and told her if she kept believing – even stronger than she did last night – I was sure the tooth fairy would come.

She stopped sobbing but laid in her bed pensive and melancholy. Jon asked her to come to him. I heard him tell her an additional fact: when the tooth fairy finally came to get his tooth the second night, he got even more money than he got with his other teeth.

She walked away with a huge smile on her face. Huge. She walked over to me and reiterated what dad told her. I reaffirmed that dad has told me that story, too so it had to be true. She smiled again and skipped into her room to get ready for horse riding lessons.

Jon saves the day. We are out an additional $5 but our girl has not lost faith in the tooth fairy. Job well done, dad.

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Top Ten reasons I love my man on Father’s Day

10. He s our protector!  There is no one or no thing that will mess wth us when he is near us.  Example: he took me to a Prince concert years ago, got me near the stage to dance, and played bodyguard the entire time to make sure no one messed with me. 

9. He loves family.  He would do anything for family, and always gives his two cents on matters to try to help family members through binds.  He gets so excited on days that we are heading to family gatherings.  Example: when we hosted my cousin’s graduation party, he woke up bright and early and began preparing food and drink with a big ol’ smile on his face.

8. He cracks us up.  I laugh harder with him than I do with any other human being.  And the kids find him hilarious, too.  Example: I have never heard Maria laugh as hard as when she is with Jon.  Her face gets super red, her smile is huge, and her entire body shakes in pleasure. 

7. He is so patient (and I am so not).  He helps me slow down and take a breath and savor a moment here and there.  Example: he makes me calm down and savor the “down time” while we are standing in Kroger’s check-out line and I start to get irritated that other lines are moving faster.

6. He is good-hearted.  If someone is in need – be it family, a friend, or a homeless guy on the street – he will lend an ear to talk with them and help them out.  Example: he saw a homeless man when he was on his way to Target and the homeless man kept talking to him about his life story.  Jon just listened and when the homeless man stopped talking and asked for a little help, Jon handed him $20. 

5. He is generous.  He takes time out of busy days to visit family and friends.  He doesn’t think twice about helping out family members in need, friends down on their luck, or the homeless person on the corner.  Example: when a family member ran into some hard times, Jon approached me and recommended that we give her some money to help her through the rough time.

4. He is STRONG. As many times as we play fight, I ahve never won a match.  He can pick up heavy machinery, mounds of trach, and even a car, I believe.  He hasn’t worked out at a gym since we dated years ago, but his calves and thigs and biceps are still bulging with muscle.  Example: when we go out, people ask him if he’s a football player!  Hot!

3. He is my number one supporter.  When we go out with friends, he always has a story about how I won a race or ran 10 miles or biked up major hills.  I always know he backs me up in all that I do.  Example: when I completed the marathon, he bragged to people that I had barely trained but I finished the marathon.  He believes in me. 

2. He is a superstar husband.  He surprises me with lottery tickets.  He fixes my bike when it breaks.  He massages my legs when I am sore.  He always listens to me when I am dealing with a problem.  He stands by me no matter if he agrees with my decision or not.  He tells me he loves me every day.  He watches the kids while I take a much-needed run.  Example: when I accidentally scheduled an excursion to a pipeline field in Alaska and we stayed in a work trailer for two days of our honeymoon, he didn’t divorce me, and he even laughed about it with me (six months later!).

1.  He is an incredible father.  The kids think he is the most awesome person on this Earth, and when he goes on business trips, they whine every morning that they wish he was home.  He is not shy about telling them that he loves them at least three times a day. He wrestles with Mario and plays Memory with Maria.  He makes sure that they have everything they need.  He spoils them with books and toys.  Example: every night before bed, he makes sure he gives them both uge hugs and kisses and tells them that he loves them.  A true gift from a dad to a child.