All About the Pirate

This morning we were listening to the radio, as we do every morning while, we were getting ready. Unfortunately, the only station we can get without static is one I find to be questionable at best for the girls to be listening to in the morning. I decided to risk it, since we need to music to get moving. Plus, I often make questionable parenting decisions that totally backfire, but that is what makes my life fun. 

As I was brushing A1's hair, All About The Bass came on. Now I have heard it many times and I actually enjoy it, but I often question the message. Maybe I'm a prude, but I just don't think the girls need to hear that boys like girls for their booty. Even though I have had that feeling in the out of my stomach that the girls really shouldn't listen to the song, I listen to it, and A3 and I jam to it on the way to school almost everyday. 

Today I realized I shouldn't have ignored that feeling in my stomach. A1 said, "Just what exactly is this song about?"  Oh no! The girls were about to find out mommy likes songs about bad things... So I did the only thing a mom in my situation could do. 

I lied. 

I totally and completely lied to all three girls and it wasn't even a good lie. I told the girls it was about a pirate bringing his booty back after a long voyage. A1 didn't buy it. She wanted to know what the bass and trouble meant. In order to buy time I told her the word was actually treble, not trouble. Then I told the pirate was in a band and he sang bass, which means he sings low. Honestly, I have no idea what treble actually is, but I'm sure it has something to so with music because we have a "treble choir" at school, at least I think we do...

A2 totally bought it. She started pretending to be a pirate as she sang the rest of the song. A3 really didn't care. A1 was still skeptical. She started to tell me that she saw the video and they were tweeking so she knows they aren't talking about pirate booty. I told her watching videos was bad for her mind so she needed to stop. Then I left the room before she could ask anything else. 

Tonight on the way to Brownies she had me cornered. She wanted to know why it was bad to watch videos. I stalled and then told her because it would ruin her creativity and ability to interpret her own meanings from songs. 

Then I realized I was a genius. I no longer had to feel guilty for my lie earlier in the day. I was simply coming up with my own interpretation of the song. The song IS about a deep voiced pirate who is bringing his loot back to his band. I'm. A. Genius! 

And I will no longer let the girls listen to that radio station. 

Growing Up Isn't Hard to Do

The A Team did some major growing up this weekend. In addition to A1's mood swings and friend issues, she also found time to perfect her culinary skills. She made her first box of Macaroni and Cheese with minimal assistance. She was so proud of herself! I made her tell me everything she was doing before she did it and I made her reread the directions when she was about to mess up. The only step she had to read twice was where she had to add the cheese... I know it is a little confusing that you would add cheese from a sealed white packet, but that is how lazy parents do it. Get used to it! She served everyone and watched as we ate it. She was full of smiles and happily accepted our compliments. 

A2 wasn't as happy about her growing up moment. I forced it in her. I was a mean mom and made her wear jeans. She hates wearing pants of any kind. She hasn't ever worn jeans because I can't stand the crying and temper tantrums that come when I try to make her wear them. She only wears leggings and the closest thing she has ever gotten to wearing jeans is when she slips on a pair of jeggings, the tighter the better. I'm a Pick Your Battles kind of mom and I decided Saturday my battle was going to be A2 putting jeans on and wearing hem for 2 hours. That was all I asked. She put the jeans on and her body immediately twisted and contorted. She became a human worm rolling on the floor. She began to come up with things she wouldn't be able do it I made her wear the jeans. She wouldn't be able to do the splits, leap through the air, sit, or walk. She began limping and dragging a foot behind her. She became a 95 year old in seconds. I wasn't backing down though. She was going to wear the jeans no matter what. She did have the option of staying home. Once we got to the Apple Barn she forgot all about how horrible her pants were and enjoyed the day. When we got home she even admitted that the jeans weren't that bad. She said she would wear those to school, if it was an early out day. 

A3's growing up happened on the potty. She used the potty twice. She was in the shower and started to panic because she had to go. I put her on the toilet and she started to freak out a little because she really wanted a diaper, but I was not going to do that. I just waited her out and then we celebrated. She told me later that night she had to go again.  I know this isn't the end of diapers for us, but I see we are a little bit closer and that makes me happy! 

Most of the time I get weepy when the girls hit milestones, but these milestones are so glorious! No tears here, I'm ready to celebrate!!! 

My big girls and me, check out A2's jeans!

Judgement

Tonight A1 had one of those tough growing up moments. One second she was my sweet little girl the next second her head was spinning, flames coming out of her eyes and smoke out of her ears. 

She was mad because her life is horrible. I asked her to put her clothes away. She screamed. She shouted. She stomped her feet. She pounded her fists in the air. She pushed A2, who just laughed at her sending A1 in to a new level of rage. She ran to the garage and said she was sleeping there. She came back in and yelled that we all hate her. She stomped up the stairs. She hid in her room. 

Fifteen minutes later she was back downstairs, a sobbing puddle of eight year old girl curled up in my lap. She was ready to unload whatever was bothering her... 

Everyone hates her. This seems to be our theme this year. Her friends all judge her. She hates being judged all the time. Why do people have to judge other people? 

I sat and listened. Finally she got a little more specific. According to A1, all of her friends have been making fun of her for still playing with Barbies. I had a hard time believing it was all of her friends, so I questioned this statement a little further. Turns out not ALL of the girls have been making fun of her. She wanted to know if it was ok for an 8 year to play with Barbies. She wanted to know why someone would make fun of someone else. She wanted to know if the rest of her life was going to be like this. 

Honestly, I wanted to tell that people do this because they suck. That some people are just jerks. I thought about telling her to get used to it because a lot of girls at catty }!+€%£>, but I didn't. 

I didn't because I have hope that she won't have to deal with this all the time. I have hope that at some point girls will stop tearing each other down just because they can. I have hope that people will accept others in spite of their differences. 

I didn't want to tell her all the negatives because that would crush the hope. I would make it true that people suck and girls enjoy being mean to each other. I would make it acceptable. I would make it be what she expects. 

Instead I told her that it is perfectly ok for an 8 year old to play with Barbies. I even offered to play Barbies with her. Thankfully, she said no. I told her that only creative people with good imaginations play with Barbies. I told her that sometimes people can be mean if they don't feel good about themselves or if they don't understand something. I told her that sometimes people in groups will pick on one person to make the others in the groups think they are really improtant or smart. I told her she wouldn't have to deal with this the rest of her life. I told her to choose friends who will love her no matter what toy she is playing with. I told her to walk away if she felt like people were judging her. I told her to do what makes her happy, as long as it follows my rules. I told her to remember this when she is dealing with other people and their feelings. 

I told her to love herself and it wouldn't matter what other people thought. I told her I love her no matter what. I told her God loves her no matter what and is on her side. 

I gave her a hug. Then I told her to go to bed because she was going to have to put her clothes away in the morning. 

Unplanned Plans

I'm a detail girl. I like to plan. I like to have all the details worked out for my plans. I like to know what to expect. Sometimes my planning switches into an anxiety inducing compulsion.

Before a vacation, or even an outing, I do hours, who am I kidding? I do days and sometimes months, of research. My research transforms into scheduling every minute of fun. By the time the event actually takes place, I'm so stressed and exhausted, I can't enjoy myself. I'm grumpy, short tempered, and ready to cry at any given moment. Basically, I'm no fun. 

I'm slowly seeing the value in not planning. I'm working on living in the moment.  Tonight I did something I don't normally do; I made impromptu plans. I even had to change out of my elastic wasted shorts, but I managed to go with the flow and let whatever was going to happen, happen. 

45 minutes before A3's regular bedtime we were invited to join some friends at the park. My initial reaction was to stay home. The girls hadn't eaten, they weren't ready for bed, I was tired. The excuses poured out of my mind. Then I realized tonight was the last official Friday night of summer. I wasn't about to spend it sitting at home arguing with the girls. We were heading to the park. 

I'm so glad we went. I received some much needed laughter therapy with a friend who gets it. A friend who had a week that mirrored mine. A friend who has 2 amazing girls who mesh well with my 3. 

The girls ran and played with minimal tears, aside from a few "injuries" it was a dry eyed night. A1 got to see a romantic sunset. A2 was reunited with her besties. A3 proved again and again that she was no longer a little baby. 

Pizza Hut was the final stop on our impromptu adventure. We brought so much beautiful chaos. We increased the volume in that place to concert level. The 7 of us have quite a gift. For some reason the manager brought us a cup of crayons and blank paper while we waited for our pizza. The joke is on him, because this table of talented girls is able to multitask; color and cackle. So much talking and laughing. 

I was starting to stress about the fact that when we got home it was almost 2 hours after A3's bedtime, but she made it better by saying, without any promoting, "Yaya, had fun today." 

Unplanned plans are the best! 

Now, I need to plan our day for tomorrow...

Late Night Stories

I was inspired by an article I read on FB tonight. Instead of getting angry with A2 after her 17th bad excuse for being awake at 9:00, I decided to cuddle with her and ask what was bothering her. 

Of course her discussion proved to be entertaining. "Well, you see, I'm mad and angry because A1won't let me sleep in her bed. I wanted to sleep in there because I heard a cricket. Last night, I had a dream about crockodiles. They kept trying to bite me. Now I'm afraid of crickets. They probably want to eat me face off." I tried to reason with her...

After 30 seconds of silence, she went on with her bizarre conversation. "There was a boy at school who smashed a caterpillar. Why would he do that!?! Another boy cried. He cried real tears. He wanted to touch the caterpillar and watch him bloom. Isn't that funny that he said bloomed? Caterpillars don't bloom, they get winged. Everybody knows that." 

At this point A2 was getting whiplash from my earthquake laughter. No sound, but lots of shaking. She had one more thing that was bothering her, "Mom there was a boy who had to go to the bathroom. He asked to go to the 'Men's Room.' I told him he isn't a man and he needs to go to the boys bathroom. Mom men aren't in kindergarten are they? He is a boy. I know he is!" 

I'm so glad I decided to listen instead of yell. I would have missed some of the best stories. I think that was the first time this week I laughed, a real, can't breath, laugh. It was refreshing. Plus, she fell asleep within 5 minutes of her final story. 

Weekend Hermit

I have a bad habit during the school year of becoming a weekend hermit. I come home on Friday change out of my casual Friday Spirit wear and into my weekend uniform; some type of elastic wasted pants and an over stretched stained Tshirt. Once I shut the front door Friday evening, I have no itentions of leaving my house until Sunday morning at the earliest. Typically, my only exception to this rule is when we have a long weekend. I will sometimes make plans to leave the house to socialize. 

I tell myself I do this as a way to cope as an introvert in my extremely extroverted world. I say it is a way to recharge after a week of very little quiet time to myself. I make myself believe this is what is best for me. My well deserved downtime. 

What is really going on? Really I'm drowning in self pitty. I'm so overwhelmed by my weekend to-do list, that I do nothing. I clean, and yet seem to get nothing done. I do school work, but never get caught up. I prepare for the up coming week, but I'm never ready. 

This weekend I allowed myself to take a different approach. With the help of some great friends, I was able to change my normal weekend of isolation plans. Saturday night the girls and I went to a birthday party. Even though it was a party for one of A1's friends, I ended up having a great time. The girls played and played and played while I relaxed, laughed, watched a movie, laughed, picked up a new hobby, and laughed some more. Today we had some other great friends stop by to visit and drop off dinner. It was a welcomed treat! It is nice to be spoiled by people who don't mind chatting while being surrounded by 15 loads of clean, unfolded laundry. 

I'm much happier tonight. I haven't had the "Sunday Night Blues" kick in yet. I don't have everything done right now that I had planned on having finished, but my batteries are recharged. I feel ready for the week, at least I'm ready for Monday.  Next weekend I'm planning on trying my best not to be a weekend hermit and actually enjoy the weekend. 

My new hobby. 

Calgon Fixes All

Dear Calgon,

       

Please, take me away. The amount of emotions I have dealt with today should warrant an extended vacation, even if it is just a bubble bath. 

A1 has been dealing with some "heavy" issues this week. Her lunch table talked too much; she ended up on red. Boys were wrestling during indoor recess. She tried to pick up a cabinet they knocked over; she got yelled at. She was playing with an ant on her desk; her friend turned her in, she got yelled at. Math homework was hard; she had to spend more than 15 minutes working on it. I used a different detergent, she got a rash. I gave her Benadryl; she was tired. She sat down during dance; she got "yelled" at. She hates dance; I'm making her finish what she started. She is short; people think she is a baby. Her teacher hates her. Her dance teacher hates her. Her bus driver hates her. She is a bad dancer; the worst.  

Calgon, all of this came out in a tearful 15 minute ride home after dance. I know most of this is due to the fact that she is exhausted, but, Calogon, I'm exhausted too. I have been sick for over a week. I'm taking care of three girls. I'm teaching full time, well, kind of... I have had to use several sick days to stay with sick kids and nurse Mac back to health. I have had to do all the cleaning and parenting on my own. I'm almost over my data plan on my phone. My wifi isn't working. I have a hang nail. My life is rough. I'm sure there are people who hate me, but, honestly, I'm too tired to even care. 

Calgon, I deserve to be taken away. 

Actually, now that I think about it, I really don't like baths, bubble or otherwise. In fact, baths disgust me, sitting in a puddle of your own filth. Nasty. I put baths right up there with birds and hair. Showers really are the way to go. Calgon, please leave me alone.  If you really want to take someone, how about A1? She likes baths and has had the worst day ever. She would really like it. 

Calgon, thanks for listening. You really did make me feel better. 

Love, 

Carrie

Parenting Fail 5,168

In a not-so-rare moment of parenting frustration, I was weak in my parenting choices. Looking back I would have done things different for a number of reasons, the biggest being; I was once again out smarted by A1.

It was bed time a few nights ago and I, once again, tripped over the same exact American Girl Doll I had asked the girls to put away numerous times. To be fair to the girls, they probably didn't see the doll since she was buried under a mixed pile of clean and dirty clothes. And to further confuse the girls, the pile of clothes was camouflaged by a collection of books. THE ROOM WAS A MESS. 

I had had it with them. After I sort of regained composure and picked myself up of the floor, I said under my breathe, but still intentionally loud enough for the girls to hear, "Well, I hope we don't have a fire tonight. It will be hard to get you out of this place." 

Boom! That did I had the girls' attention now. A2 just stared at me. No comment. I made my point by lightly threatening suggesting my kids were going to burn in a fire for not cleaning their room. Nice. 

Oh well, I won. Tiny victory dance. Not so fast... Before I could leave the room, A1 had something to say. She say up in her bed and questioned me. "Are you saying we could die if there was a fire?" I became a little mousy, "Well... Kind of." She went deep in thought and came out with something truly frustrating. She used my past words against me. 

"Really Mom, that wouldn't be so bad. You said when we die we will get to see Jesus. We want to see Jesus. It isn't bad to die. You said."

Great. Thanks for listening to me. I bit my tongue before I told her that dying in a fire would be very painful before she got to see Jesus. I'm proud of myself for showing such restraint.