I was so excited the first time I made cookies with my boys. I had visions of them calmly stirring the batter, sneaking a taste when they thought I wasn't looking. I imagined them happily watching me measure out the ingredients as I explained what each thing was as I added it to the bowl. I knew it was going to be fun, and I couldn't wait to enjoy the experience with them.
Things started out well. It was so cute watching them rush for the stools in the kitchen, pulling them as close to the mixing bowl as they could get--so close that I barely had elbow room. Equally adorable was when each of them then rushed to the utensils to pick out their very own spatulas to help stir with. And that's about where the calm and cuteness of the experience wore off.
Ever-curious Jacob opened the canister of salt and poured about half on to the counter before I got it out of his hands. Stubborn James refused to let his brother--or me--touch the mixing bowl without his permission. There was baking soda, salt, and flour in equal amounts on the floor and in the bowl.
Not only was my kitchen now a total wreck, my patience was starting to wear thin, and I just wanted the damn cookies DONE. I'd gone from excited and happy about the whole experience, to wanting to pull out all my hair in a matter of minutes. What was I THINKING, letting a one- and three-year-old help me bake?
In lieu of screaming like a banshee and banishing my children from the kitchen, I walked away from the situation and sat down in the office with my husband. "What's the matter?" He asked tentatively, pretending to not notice the flour splotches all over my face and in my hair. If there hadn't been steam rising from the top of my head, he might have laughed, but God bless him he held his tongue.
"The kids are making me crazy!! All I wanted to do was make some freaking cookies and now the kitchen's a mess and I don't know if we even measured anything right...." I let out a 2-minute tirade with some less-than-clean language, and by the time he stopped me I was close to tears.
"Babe...why did you want to make cookies with the kids?"
"I thought it would be fun. I wanted to show them how to do it."
"Take a look in the kitchen."
I huffed and crossed my arms, but still I stuck my head out the office door and looked in to my cookie-coated kitchen. There were my two boys, covered with even more flour than I was, pretending to measure and stir and laughing together. They were having fun.
The cookie-baking experience had not been anything like I hoped for, but I'd still accomplished my goal. I had shown my boys something new, and they loved it. The only thing standing in the way of ME having fun, too, was that I was stuck with a fantasy that didn't match my reality.
There are so many instances of parenting that end up turning out nothing like we've planned. It can be difficult to overcome the disappointment sometimes, but seeing the bigger picture can often help ease the anxiety. Having someone point it out can often help, too (thanks, Hubby). I often end up learning lessons from my children when I set out to teach them something new.
We've since baked cookies more times than I can count, and although I have to admit I sometimes still get a little tense, it really does warm my heart to see them race for the stools, spatulas in hand, ready to make cookies--and probably a really fun mess--with me.
4.26.2010
Whoever has the best child gets a cookie.
I love my children. Like most doting parents, I think that my kids are the best kids in the world. They're always the cutest, always the best behaved, and man, are they ever smart! I, however, am not delusional. I know this is normal and that all parents (well, all decent parents) feel this way about their children.
I also have a confession to make: in addition to believing my kids are the best, I am also occasionally guilty of judging the behavior of other children. Usually, the judgment is aimed at their parents: "He's three and they seriously haven't taught him how to say please and thank you?" or "Wow, I can't believe her mom let her get away with that." In private, my husband and I have often proudly compared our little angels to our friends' children, pointing out all the things that make our kids great. I'd wager a guess that even though we all care about each other, our friends have made the same comparisons about our kids.
I honestly don't see that much of a problem with this; I think it's a pretty natural phenomenon. It makes total sense to me that parents would be absolutely in love with their kids--in love enough to not notice the flaws that other people see. There is a problem, however, when parents bring their not-so-nice comparisons out in the open, turning a playdate in to a competition to see whose kids are "better."
Last week, our family went out to dinner with the family of my brother-in-law's fiancee. It just so happens that her parents (her dad and stepmom) have a son who is only 2 months younger than our oldest son. I thought, well, that will be kind of cool, they can keep each other company. What I didn't expect was that this would be the OLYMPICS of child-comparison competitions.
The jabs started out subtle. My son pointed at a red balloon and said, "Mommy, I want that pink ballon!"
"Hot pink, huh," she snickered, "And he doesn't even have any sisters at home! Besides, that balloon isn't pink. What color is that balloon, Johnny?" she asked her son.
"It's red, Mommy!" Johnny cheerfully replied.
"Very good, Johnny. James, what color is that other balloon?" she asked my son, pointing at a blue balloon.
"Green!" My son replied, just as cheerfully.
"No, it's blue, Mommy!" interjected Johnny.
This same conversation continued until Johnny had correctly and without hesitation named the colors of all the balloons in the restaurant. My son, bless his heart, tried to name the colors with little success. It's something we've been working on; he knows them but he often confuses them (and I'm not concerned about it because he always confuses the same names of colors with each other, which makes me believe he understands the concept, he just hasn't memorized the color names yet).
After this amazing display of Johnny's color-naming skills, his Mommy explained--her chest puffed up with pride--how Johnny would be moving in to the 4-year-old class at preschool even though he just turned three. See, he's in a very prestigious preschool...he had to apply to get in and everything!
"Can James even say his ABC's yet? Didn't you say he was older than Johhny? Oh, really? That's too bad. Johnny, say the ABC's for us! Oh, and he can write his name. Write your name, Johnny! Oh, and why don't you show them how you can dance, Johnny?"
This friendly banter continued for some time, as we waited for our food to be brought. There was no doubt that Johnny's Mommy was attempting to prove how AMAZING her son was, and she was not shy about pointing out where she felt my son was lacking. By the time our food came, I was fuming, although I was doing my best to stay civil for the sake of my brother-in-law and his fiancee.
I don't understand the need to prove that your child is the best. In my mind, it's enough that I know how great my children are, and although I might be proud enough to mention something awesome that they can do, I've never compared my sons' accomplishments directly to the inadequacies of my friends' children--well, at least not to their parents' face. In a perfect world, we wouldn't be comparing our children at all, but in the real world we can at LEAST keep our opinions to ourselves.
Just as I was getting ready to shove a hot buttered roll in Johnny's Mommy's mouth just to shut her up for a while, however, my son took care of the problem all by himself. Dinner was done and the boys had both just received a nice bowl of chocolate ice cream. Perfect, smart, ABC-singing Johnny dove right in--face first. No attempt at using a spoon, he just stuck his face in the bowl and started eating like an animal. My dull, non-color-knowing little James turned up his nose, and with all the patience he could muster, pronounced, "Oh, Johnny! Don't do that it's RUDE! We use a SPOON to eat ice cream!"
I didn't laugh, but I wanted to. It made me feel a lot better about the whole situation, and it also made me realize something. We all know there's only so many hours in a day, and thus there's only so many things you have time to teach to your children. We pick and choose the lessons we teach our kids, mainly based on our own preferences and values. For me, early childhood is a blessing for my children because no one is forcing them to learn anything--they're learning by playing and enjoying the world before life suddenly gets "structured" when they hit grade school...but I expect them to mind their p's and q's in the meantime. For Johnny's Mommy, having a smart, "advanced" child who can sing his ABC's while tapdancing is at the top of the list, with manners being somewhere around...nonexistent. These are the parenting choices we have made, and therefore the things we're proud about are different. No one's child is the "best," we've all got great kids, and they all excel in different areas in life--most likely the areas of life that we've shown them are important to us.
Johnny's Mommy could certainly use a chill pill when it comes to her expressions of pride, but at the end of the day, I think we all win as long as we're trying our hardest. Just try not to knock my kid down on your way to the winner's circle. There's enough cookies for all of us.
I also have a confession to make: in addition to believing my kids are the best, I am also occasionally guilty of judging the behavior of other children. Usually, the judgment is aimed at their parents: "He's three and they seriously haven't taught him how to say please and thank you?" or "Wow, I can't believe her mom let her get away with that." In private, my husband and I have often proudly compared our little angels to our friends' children, pointing out all the things that make our kids great. I'd wager a guess that even though we all care about each other, our friends have made the same comparisons about our kids.
I honestly don't see that much of a problem with this; I think it's a pretty natural phenomenon. It makes total sense to me that parents would be absolutely in love with their kids--in love enough to not notice the flaws that other people see. There is a problem, however, when parents bring their not-so-nice comparisons out in the open, turning a playdate in to a competition to see whose kids are "better."
Last week, our family went out to dinner with the family of my brother-in-law's fiancee. It just so happens that her parents (her dad and stepmom) have a son who is only 2 months younger than our oldest son. I thought, well, that will be kind of cool, they can keep each other company. What I didn't expect was that this would be the OLYMPICS of child-comparison competitions.
The jabs started out subtle. My son pointed at a red balloon and said, "Mommy, I want that pink ballon!"
"Hot pink, huh," she snickered, "And he doesn't even have any sisters at home! Besides, that balloon isn't pink. What color is that balloon, Johnny?" she asked her son.
"It's red, Mommy!" Johnny cheerfully replied.
"Very good, Johnny. James, what color is that other balloon?" she asked my son, pointing at a blue balloon.
"Green!" My son replied, just as cheerfully.
"No, it's blue, Mommy!" interjected Johnny.
This same conversation continued until Johnny had correctly and without hesitation named the colors of all the balloons in the restaurant. My son, bless his heart, tried to name the colors with little success. It's something we've been working on; he knows them but he often confuses them (and I'm not concerned about it because he always confuses the same names of colors with each other, which makes me believe he understands the concept, he just hasn't memorized the color names yet).
After this amazing display of Johnny's color-naming skills, his Mommy explained--her chest puffed up with pride--how Johnny would be moving in to the 4-year-old class at preschool even though he just turned three. See, he's in a very prestigious preschool...he had to apply to get in and everything!
"Can James even say his ABC's yet? Didn't you say he was older than Johhny? Oh, really? That's too bad. Johnny, say the ABC's for us! Oh, and he can write his name. Write your name, Johnny! Oh, and why don't you show them how you can dance, Johnny?"
This friendly banter continued for some time, as we waited for our food to be brought. There was no doubt that Johnny's Mommy was attempting to prove how AMAZING her son was, and she was not shy about pointing out where she felt my son was lacking. By the time our food came, I was fuming, although I was doing my best to stay civil for the sake of my brother-in-law and his fiancee.
I don't understand the need to prove that your child is the best. In my mind, it's enough that I know how great my children are, and although I might be proud enough to mention something awesome that they can do, I've never compared my sons' accomplishments directly to the inadequacies of my friends' children--well, at least not to their parents' face. In a perfect world, we wouldn't be comparing our children at all, but in the real world we can at LEAST keep our opinions to ourselves.
Just as I was getting ready to shove a hot buttered roll in Johnny's Mommy's mouth just to shut her up for a while, however, my son took care of the problem all by himself. Dinner was done and the boys had both just received a nice bowl of chocolate ice cream. Perfect, smart, ABC-singing Johnny dove right in--face first. No attempt at using a spoon, he just stuck his face in the bowl and started eating like an animal. My dull, non-color-knowing little James turned up his nose, and with all the patience he could muster, pronounced, "Oh, Johnny! Don't do that it's RUDE! We use a SPOON to eat ice cream!"
I didn't laugh, but I wanted to. It made me feel a lot better about the whole situation, and it also made me realize something. We all know there's only so many hours in a day, and thus there's only so many things you have time to teach to your children. We pick and choose the lessons we teach our kids, mainly based on our own preferences and values. For me, early childhood is a blessing for my children because no one is forcing them to learn anything--they're learning by playing and enjoying the world before life suddenly gets "structured" when they hit grade school...but I expect them to mind their p's and q's in the meantime. For Johnny's Mommy, having a smart, "advanced" child who can sing his ABC's while tapdancing is at the top of the list, with manners being somewhere around...nonexistent. These are the parenting choices we have made, and therefore the things we're proud about are different. No one's child is the "best," we've all got great kids, and they all excel in different areas in life--most likely the areas of life that we've shown them are important to us.
Johnny's Mommy could certainly use a chill pill when it comes to her expressions of pride, but at the end of the day, I think we all win as long as we're trying our hardest. Just try not to knock my kid down on your way to the winner's circle. There's enough cookies for all of us.
4.23.2010
My Girl Loves to Party All the Time
The last few weeks, we have spent more time being social than we've probably been in the last year. Birthday parties, nights out on the town, random visits to family in the middle of the week...lately, it feels like I'm away from home more than I'm here.
Typically, even after one such event I would be stressed out and ready to lay in bed for a week to recover. Ok...maybe not *that* bad, but social situations have never really been my thing. I was the girl standing alone in a corner at parties and dances. Sure, I had friends, and I loved hanging out with them, but for some reason more than five people in a room at once tended to render me mute and socially useless.
On Sunday, we had gone to a birthday party for one of friends' sons. There were over 30 guests...and only about 14 were adults. I knew all of the adults, at least from meeting them at similar functions over the last few years. But (and this isn't an excuse, but really my train of thought) it was REALLY hot in the house, my boys were outside playing, and there was not really any place to sit without displacing a mother holding a baby. So, I said some hasty hello's and smiled as I booked straight through the house to the backyard. I came in a few times to try and "hang out," since all the ladies were in the house but, really, it was just so damned uncomfortable in there. I went outside and played with the kids. Somehow 20-some children all under the age of ten are way easier to handle than standing in a hot room with 5 adult females and their babies.
Yesterday, while having dinner with some friends that were also at that party, I got a not-so-subtle suggestion that I work on my social awkwardness. I guess it was a wake-up call because I never thought that my problem was so obvious. My friend just casually mentioned that "maybe" I should "try" to come out on ladies' night to get better acquainted with all of the women in my social circle. Then, perhaps, "you won't feel so awkward at birthdays and baby showers and stuff." It was an attempt at subtlety, but this friend doesn't really have a subtle bone in her body, so there it was, like a slap in the face. The unspoken part was, "everyone noticed you ran from us like a deer in headlights, and we're all a little concerned."
The really sad part about the whole situation is I had been looking forward to that party all week. I was actually excited to get out and hang out with friends. I was especially excited because all of those women are mothers, and it is sooo easy to find something to talk about when other people are parents, too. I felt mentally prepared to interact with other adults and maybe even have fun. But, oh, how terribly I failed.
I suppose it's just something I'll have to keep working on. Perhaps I really will go to ladies' night next week and practice my social skills a bit. Or maybe I'll just crawl back under my rock and pray that we don't get any more party invitations for a while.
Typically, even after one such event I would be stressed out and ready to lay in bed for a week to recover. Ok...maybe not *that* bad, but social situations have never really been my thing. I was the girl standing alone in a corner at parties and dances. Sure, I had friends, and I loved hanging out with them, but for some reason more than five people in a room at once tended to render me mute and socially useless.
On Sunday, we had gone to a birthday party for one of friends' sons. There were over 30 guests...and only about 14 were adults. I knew all of the adults, at least from meeting them at similar functions over the last few years. But (and this isn't an excuse, but really my train of thought) it was REALLY hot in the house, my boys were outside playing, and there was not really any place to sit without displacing a mother holding a baby. So, I said some hasty hello's and smiled as I booked straight through the house to the backyard. I came in a few times to try and "hang out," since all the ladies were in the house but, really, it was just so damned uncomfortable in there. I went outside and played with the kids. Somehow 20-some children all under the age of ten are way easier to handle than standing in a hot room with 5 adult females and their babies.
Yesterday, while having dinner with some friends that were also at that party, I got a not-so-subtle suggestion that I work on my social awkwardness. I guess it was a wake-up call because I never thought that my problem was so obvious. My friend just casually mentioned that "maybe" I should "try" to come out on ladies' night to get better acquainted with all of the women in my social circle. Then, perhaps, "you won't feel so awkward at birthdays and baby showers and stuff." It was an attempt at subtlety, but this friend doesn't really have a subtle bone in her body, so there it was, like a slap in the face. The unspoken part was, "everyone noticed you ran from us like a deer in headlights, and we're all a little concerned."
The really sad part about the whole situation is I had been looking forward to that party all week. I was actually excited to get out and hang out with friends. I was especially excited because all of those women are mothers, and it is sooo easy to find something to talk about when other people are parents, too. I felt mentally prepared to interact with other adults and maybe even have fun. But, oh, how terribly I failed.
I suppose it's just something I'll have to keep working on. Perhaps I really will go to ladies' night next week and practice my social skills a bit. Or maybe I'll just crawl back under my rock and pray that we don't get any more party invitations for a while.
11.09.2009
I was such a bum today it's not even funny.
I left the TV on ALL DAY.
My 1-year-old removed his pants 3 hours ago and he's still not wearing any.
I made scrambled eggs for dinner.
At least I took the time to put together puzzles with my older son and chased all the kids around the house a few times. That makes me feel a wee bit better, but not much.
I need winter to be over already :(
I left the TV on ALL DAY.
My 1-year-old removed his pants 3 hours ago and he's still not wearing any.
I made scrambled eggs for dinner.
At least I took the time to put together puzzles with my older son and chased all the kids around the house a few times. That makes me feel a wee bit better, but not much.
I need winter to be over already :(
11.08.2009
rules for giving my children birthday presents: to my in-laws (with love)
1) I know how fun it is to go to the toy section and pick out a toy that you think is really awesome to give to my children. However, I would appreciate it if you at least asked me if there is something in particular that he would like to have. I would also appreciate it if you did not choose the loudest, most annoying toy possible just because you think it's funny.
2) Please keep in mind that one of my children is 2 years younger than the other. When you buy my 3 year old toys that are meant for 6 year olds, remember that a 1 year old will also most likely try to play with it (i.e. he will most likely BREAK it which will lead to tears and much pandemonium).
3) Think about all the other toys you have brought to my children in the last oh...month. Do we REALLY need ANOTHER one???
4) Thank you for giving my children a present. Thank you for bringing one for the younger child even though it's not his birthday. But when they get a little older, the younger one is going to start noticing that he got a crappy ball on his brother's birthday, and on his birthday his big brother got an entire playset. Some consistency would be appreciated. I have 2 equally amazing children and favoritism is not allowed.
5) It's awesome that you find deals on stuff at the thrift store. It's cool that you would look there first and reuse a toy that someone else no longer needed. But PLEASE bring it to us clean and in working order...do you know how hard it is to tell a 3 year old that they can't play with their new toys until I wash them?! And what do I say when they ask where the missing pieces are?
6) I know you love my children. They know it, too. So please don't feel obligated to give them enormous amounts of junk food and candy in an attempt to win their heart. They loved you without the 2 gigantic bags of pixie sticks. And who gives pixie sticks for a birthday present, anyways?
I love my in-laws and I know they mean well but...if I could really give them these rules, birthdays would be a lot easier for me to handle :p
2) Please keep in mind that one of my children is 2 years younger than the other. When you buy my 3 year old toys that are meant for 6 year olds, remember that a 1 year old will also most likely try to play with it (i.e. he will most likely BREAK it which will lead to tears and much pandemonium).
3) Think about all the other toys you have brought to my children in the last oh...month. Do we REALLY need ANOTHER one???
4) Thank you for giving my children a present. Thank you for bringing one for the younger child even though it's not his birthday. But when they get a little older, the younger one is going to start noticing that he got a crappy ball on his brother's birthday, and on his birthday his big brother got an entire playset. Some consistency would be appreciated. I have 2 equally amazing children and favoritism is not allowed.
5) It's awesome that you find deals on stuff at the thrift store. It's cool that you would look there first and reuse a toy that someone else no longer needed. But PLEASE bring it to us clean and in working order...do you know how hard it is to tell a 3 year old that they can't play with their new toys until I wash them?! And what do I say when they ask where the missing pieces are?
6) I know you love my children. They know it, too. So please don't feel obligated to give them enormous amounts of junk food and candy in an attempt to win their heart. They loved you without the 2 gigantic bags of pixie sticks. And who gives pixie sticks for a birthday present, anyways?
I love my in-laws and I know they mean well but...if I could really give them these rules, birthdays would be a lot easier for me to handle :p
10.29.2009
In Memoriam
It was not too long ago that you treated my sons like your own grandchildren. For the rest of my days I will remember how you scoured your house for something that resembled a toy to let them play with. I will remember you in this one instance, as it embodies the kindness and gentleness that existed always in your heart. You found a box of dominoes and eagerly sat down on the floor to show my son how to set them up and knock them down. I could tell you felt a little awkward, but you also looked excited and happy. Again and again you set up the dominoes and laughed with him as he knocked them down. Ever since, he has constantly begged to get out the box of dominoes and repeat that precious little game that you taught him. I couldn't wait until my sister's baby was born so you could teach her how to play with dominoes, too.
My heart aches for your family, and for your loss of life so young. I'm sorry you won't be here when my niece is born, and that she will have to grow up without either of her grandmothers to teach her simple games and laugh with her. May you rest in peace. You will be missed.
Love,
Jennie
My heart aches for your family, and for your loss of life so young. I'm sorry you won't be here when my niece is born, and that she will have to grow up without either of her grandmothers to teach her simple games and laugh with her. May you rest in peace. You will be missed.
Love,
Jennie
10.23.2009
Money, Money
The cold, dreary weather the last few days mimicks my mood perfectly. It has been a rough few weeks, and there have been moments where if I had the ability to just roll up in a ball and die I might have considered it. Ok...not really, but I have felt at the end of my rope a lot lately.
When I made the decision to stay at home with my children, I knew it was the best choice I could make. After all, when I only had one child I was paying half of my paycheck to the babysitter. So if I'd kept working, I wouldn't have had a paycheck anyway.
But now, times are hard and getting harder all the time. And I am feeling REALLY guilty. I know it's not logical to feel this bad about it, since really me working or not we'd still be in the same boat. And I have been racking my brain trying to think of a way to solve our money troubles, but to no avail.
Taking in other kids to babysit has helped a little, but it never seems to be enough. Now I'm faced with the worst option, the one I really didn't want to consider: either my husband is going to have to find a second job, or I'm going to have to find a job in the evenings after he gets home from work. I really don't want to do this. I'm already exhausted from being home with the kids all day and never really getting a break. But I can't just stand by and watch everything we've worked for get taken away.
So, at least there's the fact that it's coming in to the holiday season and I have retail experience. It shouldn't be too terrible to find a job, but I'm certainly not looking forward to how stressful this is going to be :(
Maybe it won't be so bad--I'll have new things to stress over, but at least I won't have to hold my breath every time I get a bill in the mail.
I hate money.
When I made the decision to stay at home with my children, I knew it was the best choice I could make. After all, when I only had one child I was paying half of my paycheck to the babysitter. So if I'd kept working, I wouldn't have had a paycheck anyway.
But now, times are hard and getting harder all the time. And I am feeling REALLY guilty. I know it's not logical to feel this bad about it, since really me working or not we'd still be in the same boat. And I have been racking my brain trying to think of a way to solve our money troubles, but to no avail.
Taking in other kids to babysit has helped a little, but it never seems to be enough. Now I'm faced with the worst option, the one I really didn't want to consider: either my husband is going to have to find a second job, or I'm going to have to find a job in the evenings after he gets home from work. I really don't want to do this. I'm already exhausted from being home with the kids all day and never really getting a break. But I can't just stand by and watch everything we've worked for get taken away.
So, at least there's the fact that it's coming in to the holiday season and I have retail experience. It shouldn't be too terrible to find a job, but I'm certainly not looking forward to how stressful this is going to be :(
Maybe it won't be so bad--I'll have new things to stress over, but at least I won't have to hold my breath every time I get a bill in the mail.
I hate money.
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