Tag: Parenting

The dreaded art project

Leave a comment

God help me.  It has finally happened.  I dreaded the day.  I had thought we may have escaped it since we are so close to the end of the year…. The do-it-at home art project. 

Jon and I are both left-brained people.  Logical, rational, linear.  Where are my right-brained sister and brother when I most need them? Ok, so I exaggerate a tad bit seeing the project was simply to make a morpho butterfly from the rain forest in 3D.  Doesn’t sound too hard. Right? 

We bought clay last weekend, and that ended up going nowhere fast.  We got the clay a bit wet to mold it better (my left-brained self followed the instructions to a tee) but then the clay stuck to the plate and then to our hands and then to the knife as we cut through it.  Maria was in tears within five minutes and I was ready to throw the clay at the wall if only it would have peeled off my hands.  We also thought about cutting out the morpho butterfly on construction paper and stuffing both pieces of paper with tissue paper.  I think that idea may have been our smartest but Jon thought we should use big sheets of paper at his office and nobody wanted to make the commute up there so we ditched the idea completely. 

We landed on colored molding clay which was a lot easier to mold than the grey modeling clay.  Ri and I worked on two wings for the butterfly after reviewing internet pictures.  I thought for sure that Ri would freak at the wings that I (we) made for the creature but I think she was too tired to complain at that point.  We were out of pipe cleaners for the antennae so we used Q tips (cut off the ends) instead (they don’t have that cute twist but whatever…).  Next, Maria had a great idea for the shoebox that would be the butterfly’s home.  She drew trees and put real leaves on them and then stood a paper tree up in the front of the box so the butterfly could perch in it.  After a bit of drama about getting the butterfly to stick on the tree (she takes pride in using scotch tape everywhere) , she had our creation and, most importantly, she was happy with it.  

Jon and I were, too.  After all, it is quite a piece of work for a lawyer and a business executive.   

 

Family Green Thumbs

Leave a comment

The family got down and dirty tonight.

We finally planted our garden out back.  Eight tomato plants, twelve pepper plants, two garlic plants, and two broccoli plants (Mario begged Jon to get the broccoli plants so he is on the hook for eating it if it actually grows).  Jon and I do not exactly have the greenest of thumbs so our fingers are all crossed that these plants actually produce some sort of  edible food for us.  Jon and I are dreaming of tomato and onion salad all summer.  When Jon used the tiller over the weekend, he found strawberries growing in our garden.  Strawberries!  The former owner of our home was a gardening nut and had all sorts of vegetables and herbs and I guess, fruits planted around the house.  Jon and I know the strawberry plants need some serious weeding but we have not quite got to that chore yet.  There really needs to be a robot invented that can smell out the weeds in your garden and flower beds and scorch them down to the Earth so that we would not have to manually do it every single week.  I can’t even tell what are weeds and what are flowers.  Half of the time I learn something is a weed, I am amazed because I found it to be just as gorgeous as a flower, and I only pull it if it is obviously strangling the flowers in its stead. 

Maria began the planting with us but soon tired of the activity and laid in the grass looking up at the sky.  Mario came out only after we ordered him off the computer (he is a Ben Ten fanatic).  However, once outside, he is a workhorse.  He wants to do as much physical labor as possible.  He begged to dig holes.  He planted plants and covered them with dirt.  He pulled weeds.  He told me how far down I should place the garlic plants and he scolded me when I did not hold the root up straight for him.  I see a gardener in the making. 

Being outside with the entire family made me happy.  No worries about homework (it was done) or running off to the store (it was done, too).  Just hanging out in our garden, getting our hands dirty and gazing at the couple of strawberries peeking out at us.

Motherhood = Absurdity

Leave a comment

“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

1 Comment

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

Leave a comment

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.

Spoken like a true mother

Leave a comment

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

Leave a comment

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!

Saved again by Ms. Lamott

Leave a comment

I love Anne Lamott.  I can’t say it enough: I love her. Love her! Love her!  

The other night, we started the process of putting the kids to bed.  I have talked to many a parent, and all agree that it is a “process.”  It might be a five-minute process for some lucky souls.  Fifteen minute for others.  Half hour or hour for others.  We are lumped into that group.  So by the time we reach an hour of “processing” for bed, we are both shot.  One false move by either kid may lead to a reaction that is overblown and far too intense based on the circumstances.  But that is the result of a long day full of irritations, be it people or things.  We can’t blow up on these people during our day because they are our bosses or clients or colleagues.  So we blow up on our little munchos because they are with us late in the evening and they are needy and they can’t fire us. 

And then we feel like crap.  Like mutant beings.

I typically hit my final point when I have asked M&M five times to stop wrestling on our bed and to brush their teeth.  I hear a crash and one of them crying.  Then fighting. Then more crying.  Then the crying one tattling on the other, and the other tattling about the crying one and how the crying one started it.  And then the crying one hitting the other making the other cry.  So now I have two crying kids and I want to smash my head against the wall.  I yell and scream and occasionally throw a small object against the wall.  I stomp around.  I shake my head. 

And then Maria walks up to me and wraps her arms around my legs.  Or Mario says “I’m sorry, mom.” And typically my anger and frustration lower quite a few notches if not dissipates on the spot. I am thankful for their resilience and my ability to realize my demons. 

When they are flat on back, tucked in and kissed goodnight, I open up Anne Lamott’s Plan B Further Thoughts on Faith.  I read a passage where she describes blowing up at her son one night. 

“What has helped me lately was to figure out that when we blow up at our kids, we think we’re going from zero to sixty in one second.  Our surface and persona are so calm that when a problem begins, we sound in control when we say “Now, honey, stop that.” or “That’s enough.” But it’s only an illusion.  In fact, all day we’ve been nursing anger toward the boss or boyfriend or mother, yet since we can’t get mad at nonkid people, we stuff it down…. It’s your child’s bedtime and all you want is for him to go to sleep so you can lie down and stare at the TV – and it starts up. “Mama, I need to talk to you.” It’s important.” So you go in and muster your patience, and you help him with his fears or his thirst, and you go back in to the living room and sink into your couch and then you hear “Mama? Please come here one more time.” You lumber in like you’re dragging a big dinosaur tail behind you, and you rub his back for a minute, his sharp angel shoulder blades.  The third time he calls, you try to talk him out of needing you, but he seems to have this problem with self-absorption, and he can’t hear that you can’t be there for him.  And you become wordless with rage.  you try to breathe, you try everything, and then you blow.  You scream, “Fucking dammit! What? What? What? Can’t you leave me alone for four seconds?”  Good therapy helps. Good friends help. Pretending that we are doing better than we are doesn’t.  Shame doesn’t. Being heard does….  I lay on the couch with my hands over my face, shocked by how hard it is to parent.  And after a minute, Sam sidled out, still needing me, to snuggle with me, with mean me, needing to find me – like the baby spider pushing in through the furry black legs of the mother tarantula, knowing she’s in there somewhere.” 

She manages with such ease to normalize this episode with M&M; to take a deep breath and know that I am trying my hardest. To talk to Jon. To admit my faults. And finally, to keep loving on my munchos even with my tail between my legs.

Do you like being a mom?

1 Comment

Mario sat in the car while I loaded in the pizza for our dinner.  I was getting ready to close the door when Mario asked me:

“Do you like being a mom?”

I could not believe he asked me this question.  In thinking about it some more, it’s a valid question, and a provocative one for a four-year old.  I was surprised at how quickly I responded “yes!”  He smiled.  Then I asked him if he liked being my son, and he prmptly replied “yes” to my glee. 

Then I started singing my made-up song “Mario is my baby and I love him to the moon and the stars…!” 

He promptly stopped me mid-stream and yelled “Mom, please stop singing!” 

I looked back at him, and he explained “I love you mom, but not your singing.” 

He may be inquisitive, but he is also brutally honest.