My Kitchen Remodel

For Christmas, my daughter fell in love with an adorable play kitchen she received from her Ninas (Godmothers). She even loved the presentation of the gift on Christmas Eve as it was the last gift to open and the largest box in the room! This little kitchenette has a fantastic tale to tell, from its original purchase to its resting place among Neel Royalty for the next several years…

On Thanksgiving Day 2012, Wal-Mart’s Black Friday bargains began at 800P. My daughter’s In-Love-With-Shopping-Nina, Carlene, was the one just crazy enough to brave the masses for the greatest deals of the season. There were 8 adults babysitting the giant shrink-wrapped boxes until the store gave the signal that Black Friday had officially started. However, only 7 kitchens were available. Her Nina sat near those boxes like Horton Hatches the Egg. When the time came, she pounced on the box she had been eyeballing for the last hour. A man placed a hand on the box in his feeble attempt to claim it, and she nearly bit it off with a growl. Her 4 ft 9 in self hobbled the 2x3 ft box and the rest of her purchase to checkout all by herself. When she got to the parking lot, the box wouldn’t hobble so great. Luckily, a Wal-Mart employee offered his services of which she reluctantly accepted, but not until she told him how she didn’t trust anyone on this day with her hard earned purchase. Carlene knew what she wanted and she knew how much my daughter would love it. Just like Horton, “I meant what I said and I said what I meant, and an elephant's faithful, one hundred percent!" it’s nice for my daughter to have someone in her corner that looks out for her royal interests.

You all know when Christmas is, and here we are in the last week of January. If you have children, you understand the importance of making room, purging, if you will, your children’s toy room and closets. These were all necessary steps before I crammed this unit in her bedroom somewhere. For the last week or so, I have been diligently making way for their Christmas loot. Wednesday was when I was able to assemble the Little Tikes Gourmet Prep ‘n Serve Kitchen.

Not sure how long this would take, and knowing full well I will get more done with my children happily occupied, I loaded up the DVD player, filled a giant bowl of Goldfish for them and handed her a 24 oz water bottle to minimize my disturbances. I just bought myself 80 minutes! I empty the box of all its contents, look for the instructions and head to the garage for all the necessary tools. 

Following the step by step instructions, I think to myself that this is relatively easy and I’ll be done before the kids’ movie is up! As I assemble the big components, they need to be screwed together. There are indentations where the screws belong, but no holes. That is why the instructions tell me I may need a hammer to maybe puncture a hole where I need to screw the pieces together. The tiny plastic bag has a hundred screws in it. How many holes am I maybe gonna have to make?? Grrr. So I’m hammering away which draws the attention of my little fan club. As patiently as an impatient mother can be, I tell them to get back to their movie. Hammering continues and my son, aka Curious George, comes back and is so eager to use the hammer, I think he’s gonna burst. He won’t leave me be completely, so he starts to play with all the kitchenette accessories. He threw the fake orange over the banister. We could hear it bouncing off the hardwood below. I send him down there to retrieve it, with strict orders NOT to come back until it’s found. That bought me like, I dunno, 45 seconds? He comes back upstairs and says it’s got to be in his room (even though we both saw him throw it). 

The hammering resumes. The boy returns yet again. This time he’s playing with the Philips. The very thought of those possibilities strikes fear into my deepest darkest thoughts. I swipe it from him and now he’s the one upset. I’ve got one eye on his shenanigans and the other on my hammer. Naturally, I lost focus on the task at hand and smash my thumb. I let out a yelp and the two of them come to see what happened. When I explained to them the dangers of working with tools because this exact thing is what can happen, the boy points a finger at me and laughs the laugh of Nelson from The Simpsons, “Heh-HEH!” and walks away. I did my best Yosemite Sam impression, shaking my head, mumbling inaudible profanities under my breath. 

Back to the hammer. This time around piques my daughter’s curiosity. She is quite observant and stands next to me quietly sucking her thumb. “Mom, your boobies wiggle when you hammer.” She walks back to the toy room. *sigh*

I finally manage to get all the big pieces together and screwed in place. The next step is sticker placement. I grab the hammer, screwdriver and extra screws and put them under my legs so he can’t get to them. The stickers go all over the kitchen so I’m up and down and sideways trying to get them placed just right. During that process, the boy sneaks away my hammer. I yell at him to give it back because he’s gonna hurt himself. He does not like being told what to do, but he knows how serious I am. That’s when he decided to chuck it at me. The hammer. Thankfully he’s not a good arm, so it falls short and lands on my big toe. My initial reaction was to scoop it up and throw it back at him. He immediately fell asleep and I was able to finish my project without incident.

But that last part really didn’t happen. I couldn’t hurt my kid like that and admit it in a public forum, silly! After I responsibly parented that situation with love and a hug, I finally completed the kitchen assembly! WooHoo! 

I placed it in my Princess’ room, right next to her Disney Princess vanity. We put all the utensils, pots, pans and food in their respective spots and the kids went to town with the thing! It was a great sight.

She sat down at her vanity and asked if she could put make-up on before she prepares dinner. She had asked Santa for her very own makeup and he complied. This was the first time I was allowing my 4 yr old to apply the makeup all by herself. I left the room to clean up the tools and leftover parts & wrappers. When I came back to her room, this is what I found. 

My sparkling beauty was so proud of herself, but she couldn’t see very well as she had mistakenly applied pixie dust into her eyeball. I whisked her off to the bathroom to wash her face. In our absence, the boy took her place at the vanity. I was so consumed with her, that I didn’t take notice of the impending doom. We returned to find that he had demolished her eye shadow compact. My daughter doesn’t know what he did, not yet anyway, and I dread the moment when she realizes what transpired while we were at the sink. While I was cleaning up all the dust and powder from the vanity, I looked at the boy. I saw his hands, then his shirt. Holding my breath, my eyes slowly made their way up to his face, only to find a forehead of sparkly mess. I refrained from laughter and asked him what he did. That’s when my 2 yr old son shouted, “I’m a Princess, too!” 

 

I went way past my 80 minute movie time frame. After cleaning everyone and everything up, it was nearly 800P and we hadn’t eaten dinner yet! Where did the time go?! There was no way I was cooking in my real kitchen. I threw them in their carseats and made our way to In N Out because we all deserved to be rewarded for the evening we just had. The boy fell asleep in the drive thru line and he didn’t wake up ‘til the morning. WooHoo! But don’t worry…I didn’t leave him in the car overnight.

I wouldn’t trade a swollen thumb and a limp for anything as long as my kids are happy and keep making me laugh uncontrollably. I may suffer from a bruised ego because my wiggly boobies entertain my daughter and my son never listens to me, but I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… it’s all worth it. The sleepless nights, adult-less days, barking orders, cleaning up messes, days without a shower… I would do it all again in a heartbeat because my pint-size family makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.

Disclaimer: If you happened upon this blog and don’t know me from Adam, it’s important to mention that I would never harm my children with hardware. I’m a great Mom with a sarcastic tone who loves a little witty banter. No need to get Children & Family Services involved here. Okay? Thanks.

My Year in Review

In celebration of the holiday season and as 2012 comes to a close, it's great to reflect on the past year and be thankful for all that we have been blessed with. I can't tell you enough how grateful I am that my family has been healthy all year and the babies are growing at an alarming rate! I already cherish the rare moments when my children fall asleep in my arms.

My new year resolution was to start this blog. I haven't written weekly like I had hoped (Whoops!), but I have at least written throughout the year. I needed a place to share my thoughts and fun, child-rearing stories. But the babies are still too young and needy for me to devote that kind of time to writing every week. I take notes here and there for future blogs, so maybe 2013 will be the year for Life: Blessed & Crazy?! As a side hobby, I took to ebay as well. That has been a lot of fun and a huge learning experience. From ballet slippers to RV camping supplies, I've been selling quite nicely and made enough to pay our way through a wedding as the MOH, Flower Girl and Ring Bearer. After taking inventory of my storage and closets, I have plenty to sell but need plenty of time to get it all listed. Another "maybe next year" task...

My husband has been wonderful. He patrols his City to the best of his abilities and takes great care of his family. He works hard and enjoys the rewards of time spent wrestling with the kids, smothering them with hugs and kisses, telling stories, snuggling on cold nights and being a big ol' softy! I love when he's so exhausted from working but still comes downstairs to sleep on the couch while the kids bounce all over him. He just needs to be near them and dream of their giggles.

It's been a year of many more firsts for my daughter. She started a new K-4 program in September, which is Preschool for 4 year olds. She loves it! She can write her own name and recites the Pledge of Allegiance on cue. She knows her vowels and teaches her baby brother how to pronounce big words by syllable, like "Ra-pun-zel." It's really too cute. She's gotten into the homework routine also. I was surprised to see that preschoolers get homework, but she knocks her assignments out of the park. She easily makes me a proud mama!

My son turned 2 over the summer. He is the typical boy in every sense of the word. He is proud of his boogies, farts, poops and mealtime messes. He will wake you up with a bop on the nose followed by hysterical laughter. His favorite toys are dinosaurs, cars and animals. He loves his sister, even when he's tormenting her. He's full of kisses for you...if you tell him NOT to do it. My boy is very contrary like that. He goes with me every day to take his sister to school and can't wait to go himself. Eager to learn. Eager to play. Eager to eat!

This summer was a blast. The kids and I went on a 4 day mini-vacay with my dad, drove up the coast to San Francisco and had lots of fun stops in between. Dad is retired and enjoyed the open road with his grandkids more than words can say. My family of four spent some time in Pismo Beach having some fun in the sun. If you haven't been there, I recommend it for some quiet R&R. 'Twas the middle of August and the beaches were empty! Perfect for us! Over the Thanksgiving holiday we went to Oklahoma, Texas and New Mexico to visit friends and family.The comforts of 6 Cracker Barrel Restaurants eased the pain of fast food on the road. My kids were amazing in the car! Our trip spanned over 3,000 miles and I think they cried across 3 of them.

As you can see, we really have so much to be thankful for. We have been blessed with another great year, healthy children, the ability to travel and enjoy life, and a wonderful network of family and friends that support us through thick and thin. I've learned a lot in 2012 and I always appreciate the strong lessons that life teaches me. I am forever grateful to you for being my friend and just for being YOU in my life. Merry Christmas and countless blessings to you and your loved ones into the New Year. Mahalo.

Why I Voted

With the recent Presidential election, the past few months have been hotbeds of political conversation among friends and family, and more pointedly, among spouses on opposite ends of the winged spectrum. Politics is a sensitive topic, so is religion, and it is one of those things I try not to bring up. So much so that I don't even know where all my associates rest on that spectrum. Regardless, I felt the need to share why I voted for Obama, especially since someone recently wanted to know why. My upbringing and life events created my reasons for the vote. I don't have many readers, but if you do choose to comment, please be gentle, as opposed to condescending and rude. I'm not one for confrontation or debates.

We have to pay taxes. Americans always have. Obama wants to increase taxes on those who make over $250K annually. He does not believe in increasing the taxes of the elderly, students or the middle class. I believe in this game plan. He also thinks that government finances should be run like a family’s finances. Essentially, if you don’t have the money to buy it, then you can’t afford it. For the bigger ticket items like homes, cars and education, you borrow responsibly. I believe that Corporate America and its stockholders care about the bottom line profits, and lay-offs are the first and easiest way to do so, followed by outsourcing. Therefore, that unemployment line gets longer and longer.

I believe that government programs are necessary. I have been a recipient of Unemployment, Disability and Maternity Leave with Family Medical Leave of Absence. I don’t know what I would have done without them. I do not collect on any of the programs anymore because my needs were met for the situation in which it was intended. But they were certainly useful!

I have interned at DCFS, Department of Children and Family Services. Though my time there was brief, I have seen how families succeed with these programs. I have seen how these programs help children and put smiles on their broken-hearted faces. It’s a system with good intentions that is overworked. The social workers had heavy case loads back then, and they still do now.

I don’t believe in NOT helping others. I know that many people take advantage of the system and it makes taxpayers angry. It makes me angry. I believe there should be drug testing for qualification of such programs, including Unemployment, Welfare, food stamps, etc. I also think that they should implement some sort of program where they give back to society in some way, like volunteering, or clean-up, or something beneficial. I don’t have all the answers, but I don’t believe in something for nothing for whoever can trick the system into free help. One of the million dollar questions is how to fix it/prevent it from happening.

I support law enforcement. I believe in the death penalty. I believe in the 3 strikes law. I believe that jail overcrowding is a serious issue. I support the Propositions and/or taxes in favor of police-related activity, in favor of what benefits my husband in his workplace. I believe in deporting criminals back to their native countries. I believe that there are ways to improve Border Patrol policies but there are too many illegals coming in to be measurably efficient. Some are trying to make a better life for themselves and their families. Most of them are here related to the drug trade and gang activity. I don’t condone this kind of behavior. It’s frightening and could potentially get my husband or his co-workers killed. Instead of fighting all of them off at every turn, which is an impossible feat given their numbers, we have to find a way to make it work. Imprison and deport the criminals. Beyond that is the next million dollar question. Again, I don't have all the answers.

I use Mexicans as an example, but I do realize there are immigrants of all races coming to this country for opportunity. I was having dinner with a Republican that has strong feelings on the Mexican immigration issue, which we were just discussing. One of the waiters at the restaurant my friend frequents came to our table with greetings. The waiter was very happy to see him and they spent a few moments catching up on work and family statuses. As he walked away, my friend commented that he was such a nice guy and a hard worker with two jobs, morning and evening, to support his family. I pointed out that he probably came to the United States of America to provide for his family, to make a better life for himself and his loved ones. I then asked if he was Mexican. The begrudging reply was a Yes. Well here is proof of my point of view to my Republican comrade, who knows an immigrant personally, that not all immigrants, illegal or not, are bad people. They come here for opportunity. The other side of the table quickly changed the topic. :)

Help the students, all students, of any citizenship status. With the right skill sets and tools, they will become educated, need jobs, start businesses and contribute positively to the economy. The enormity of the situation is mind-boggling and one president won’t fix it. There are too many aspects to address. If it were up to me, which it isn’t, help the good, well-intentioned and ship out the drug dealers and gang members. Many illegals are bad people. I don’t deny that at all. But for me to say that people aren’t allowed in America even though there are better opportunities here than in their own country, it would not be me. Here’s another reason why…

When the Japanese and Chinese were coming to America’s western coast, they were hated because they looked different, had strange customs and behaviors, did the dirty, menial low class jobs, took up space, and they were prevented from buying property and homes in the land they came to for opportunity. Yes, they were illegal. My paternal grandmother was born here and moved to Japan when she was very young. Came back to America years later and they would not honor her citizenship. She was branded as an alien. This was only two generations ago. My paternal grandfather came here for work, as did thousands of other Japanese men. They were lonely and wanted to marry. That’s how the Japanese Picture Bride generation started. After Pearl Harbor, my grandparents, aunts and uncles were placed in concentration camps. Solely because they were Japanese, they were ostracized, considered enemies of the state and stripped of all property and any possessions they couldn’t carry in a suitcase, and forced to live in tents in the desert. They were born here: American citizens. My two uncles were in the military and fought for this country. This was one generation ago. I note the generation because it demonstrates that it was in recent US history, not ages ago where some deem it becomes irrelevant to today's Immigration issues. The Japanese DID bomb Pearl Harbor. American soil. The Japanese Americans were punished for it. American citizens. It was Muslim Al Qaeda that bombed innocents on American soil in New York, DC, and Pennsylvania. Given history, does this also mean that all Muslims in America should be rounded up and forced in the modern day concentration camp? Though at different times in America’s history, both incidents have produced the same reaction in Americans when it comes to the punishment of the race involved.

If you haven’t experienced the need for government assistance and your family has no traceable documentation of their arrival to this country, some of this may be hard to grasp. What if your ancestors came over on the Mayflower, a slave ship from Africa, or an immigrant boat from Europe to Ellis Island? Regardless of which boat brought them here, that kind of heritage is something to be proud of. You’re All American. And I’m All-American. America is a melting pot! 

For a struggling family with an uninsured child who is very sick and a long hospitalization is required, the parents will have to scrape together thousands of dollars (potentially losing their home or claiming bankruptcy in the process) or pray that the hospital has charity funds available. We can help an immigrant learn English and a marketable skill, but if the government doesn’t offer him a reasonable avenue toward legal work status, how can he get a job that will support a family? We can provide baby supplies to a young unwed mother, but if she is unable to afford groceries, decent housing, quality daycare, and an education for herself, they will likely end up in unsafe housing, poorly nourished, un- or underemployed, and stuck in a cycle of poverty. Without government safety nets such as subsidized housing and daycare, food stamps, education grants, health insurance, and support for immigrants, the only other option, private charity, can only do so much to ease the burden of poverty.

I believe in gay marriage. If two people love each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together in a legal union, create a family, become a breadwinner and homemaker, and support one another as do a husband and wife, then so be it. A government should not prevent them from doing so. 

I did not vote for Romney because I believe in the hope and change that Obama promised 4 years ago. I do believe that the Republicans stonewalled his efforts whenever they could. I believe that if both parties worked together, things could finally get done around here. It’s about the people, as it should be, and not about political party control. In Oct 2010, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell was asked what the job of Republicans in Congress was. McConnell answered, “The single most important thing we want to achieve is for President Obama to be a one-term president.” *sigh* Their main goal is to make the president fail, right in the middle of an economic crisis. What happened to "All for one and one for all"? Only in storybooks apparently. It also saddened me to see a presidential candidate so far removed from the American people as evident in his speech when he told us to borrow money from our parents to start our own business. In the America I grew up in, the 99%, everyone was struggling to make ends meet and it wasn't that easy.

I believe in women’s rights, her right to choose. I don’t believe that some one or some entity can tell her what to do with her body, or if she can/can’t have an abortion. It is her choice. Religion and government should stay out of it. 

I don’t know if there is one person or party to blame for the state of education in California today. (Apologizing in advance to my numerous  family and friends who are teachers...) I honestly never gave it much attention because I didn’t have kids at the time, or they weren’t school age yet, or I always thought they would attend private school. Now, my daughter will start a public school (private tuition is sky high) next year and I need to get more informed. The fact that teachers in this state have to buy their own supplies to teach in their overcrowded classrooms is wrong. Where did the education dollars go? They have very important jobs and they get paid so little. I've got some homework to do.

Not all of my beliefs are strict to Democratic code, nor are they in line with the Catholic doctrine of which I was born and raised. I do believe in Jesus Christ and I believe that he wanted to help the poor and suffering, not make the rich get richer. There are so many aspects to the great divide, and it's an impossible feat to address all of my opinions. I have a big heart and a caring personality. I have worked my entire life starting at 16. I complained about paying taxes when I got my first paycheck because I didn’t know anything about them. I made enough to make ends meet, but not enough to fund a charity, though I made donations when I could. But I didn’t complain about paying taxes either because I always felt they were necessary. 

I am not well-versed politically, nor am I persuasive with my beliefs. But they are mine and they are part of who I am. Part of what makes America great is our personal freedoms, free speech, our rights to choose for ourselves, and vote for who we deem to be the best for our country.

I Will Never Forget

11 years ago today, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when the Towers were hit. I was at home in my very first apartment, sleeping and snoozing my alarm, putting off rolling out of bed as long as possible before I had to get ready for work. My phone rang unexpectedly and it was my sister, urging me to turn the TV on. It didn't matter what channel. Begrudgingly following her instructions, I shot straight up when I saw the spectacle before me. It was shock and disbelief, then fear, and then so much sadness. I called my boyfriend (now husband) to wake him up because he, too, needed to see this. It was certainly a morning I will never forget.

Our nation was struck by a force so powerful and life-changing, that we didn't know it could happen. The tragedy awoke a personal pride in America...Everyone I know is proud to be an American, but the results of 9/11 spawned a new patriotism that I hadn't experienced in my lifetime. The Memorials are necessary for remembrance and reflection, for humbling ourselves and recognizing there are things bigger than our daily lives. Blood, sweat and tears were put into all of the 9/11 Memorials, and rightfully so.

Today, I drove my daughter to school, I saw my husband off to work, and my son fell asleep peacefully in my arms. I am thankful for the safety of my family and the many luxuries we are afforded: the ability to freely go about my day running errands, buying fresh produce, having utilities in my home to live comfortably and stay cool, and buying fuel to get us where we need to be. I can never take for granted the freedoms we as Americans have. Flying the friendly skies will never be the way it used to be. Entering an airport or a government building has changed drastically as well. The nation has changed. Our awareness has changed. Is it for the better? Yes. We are a vigilant and watchful nation now. I believe we took it for granted before..."Invasion could never happen on our soil." That is the case no longer.

I will never forget those military men and women who have lost their lives in this war, nor the innocents who lost their lives when the planes crashed and when the towers fell. The brave rescue heroes who have suffered from injuries, emotionally and medically after toxic building meltdowns, even a decade later, are always remembered. I cannot forget the families and children of those lost who still struggle to recover and move on. My home prays for the soldiers and military families everyday. We pray for my husband as he works to protect his city and his family, and we pray for his safe return every day. Police officers, fire men and women, military soldiers and the countless volunteers who protect our great nation every day are to be applauded and thanked for their selfless service.

Olympic Round-up

If you know me personally, you know I’m a bit of a sports fan, so spending two whole weeks watching athletes on the flat screen was right up my alley! There are some things I observed during the world’s focus on London and things that I loved about the 2012 Olympics. I took notes here and there and I’m piecing them together. Sorry for not having direct references or links for you to see for yourself, but I’m lucky I remembered to write down what has inspired me! 

First of all, the Fierce Five were incredible! Those girls knocked my socks off with their performances and camaraderie. Once I learned to look past the “like” as every other word coming out of their mouths during interviews, and the mousey pitched voices (just some pet peeves of mine), I saw the amazing feat that is the US Women’s Gymnastics Team. They are all teens and have dedicated their lives to the sport. I saw that they were appreciative of their families and skills that enabled them to be in this position, confident in their abilities, supportive of teammates, critical of themselves and as well-spoken as teens can be. Overall, the way they carried themselves on and off the floor was quite impressive.

My heart went out to Team Leader Jordyn Wieber when she didn’t make it to one of two individual spots for the all around final. I could see the pain and disappointment in herself. When she was finally composed enough for an interview, she was as gracious as she could be in the eye of defeat, yet so proud and supportive of her teammates who advanced. For such a young woman to show so much poise and clarity after a loss on the world’s stage is simply incredible.

I perused some articles briefly after hearing about Olympic Gold Medalist Gabrielle Douglas’ criticism regarding her hair. This young woman just made history being part of the gold medal team AND winning the coveted all-around title! And people have nothing better to do than criticize the way her hair looked?? That saddened me, but her response made it all just go away. She ignored them. That kind of criticism is far below what this young black female has accomplished and she knew it and stayed above it!

Some other Olympic moments that made me smile were when the Williams sisters, Venus and Serena, played Olympic tennis together and earned the gold medal. Track athlete Manteo Mitchell broke his leg in the 4x400 relay. He broke his leg and finished his race so he wouldn’t let his team down!! Hotty swimmer Michael Phelps holds the all-time record for most Olympic medals won. These athletes are amazing!

Misty May-Treanor and her Beach Volleyball partner took the gold for the third time!! When the cameras were on Misty in between sets, she was shouting, “Go Dodgers!” because her husband, Matt Treanor, is on the team.  In his pre/post-game interviews, he talked about was his wife and how he wished he could be there with her, carrying her bags, doing whatever he can to show his support. This couple and their goals of winning their respective sports do not hinder the love they have for one another. It was the sweetest thing to watch and still brings a smile to my face when I think about it!

2012 was my daughter’s first time watching the Summer Olympics. This girl was hooked on the gymnastics. She thought they were beautiful and strong and she wants to be just like them. She even told her Daddy and me that she wants to be in the Olympics when she grows up. As long as she has role models like the Fierce Five to look up to and aspire to be, I have no problem with that at all (I’m looking for some local gymnastics classes now!). Now that the two weeks is over, I struggled with Olympic withdrawals, but I’m back to my Nook or catching up on my DVR until Rio 2016…

It Takes A Village...

It takes a village. That’s what they say and it’s what I firmly believe. I have several friends that we spend time with who naturally feel that way. Our common path veers towards the village. If my daughter is climbing the tree, it’s okay if ‘Mrs. A’ tells her to stop and brings her down. If I have to go to the car to change a massive diaper, I feel totally comfortable leaving my daughter under the watch of my mom friend for 5 minutes. I have bottle fed babies and hand fed toddlers that weren’t mine. I have taken other preschoolers to the restroom for potty time. I have corrected a bad situation that none of my children were involved in. Do my mom friends care? Nope. Not one bit. In fact, while dreaming up this blog post, I found that they encourage it. They appreciate it because they can’t do it alone. None of us can. As proud as we try to be, we all need help and I like to get mine from my village of friends, and especially my family.

The age group of most of our play dates is 2 to 4 years old. This is a very impressionable stage of development, filled with numerous challenges and infinite decision-making. They test the waters to see what they can get away with, learning right from wrong. At this age, hitting is almost a given. It’s just what kids do. If my child were to hit another and I missed it, I expect the parent who saw it to say something to my child and then let me know. All children are sweet and innocent, and if they were to strike another child, it’s not with malice, but rather, endless curiosity or over-enthusiasm in a playtime environment. I don’t feel it is wise to shelter a child from something like this as it is a major learning experience at such a formative age. I am not saying that hitting is okay. A correction is still in order, but such actions come with the territory of the age group.

If my son or daughter does something bad and I don’t see it, the other parent can immediately step in before things get out of control. When s/he gets reprimanded by a villager, it teaches obedience and to respect others. At the same time, s/he learns from others. S/he learns trust. If my daughter ever gets lost (heaven forbid), she knows to approach a mom with kids for help, as opposed to the random stranger. She is also very observant, and watches and learns from the environment in our village.

I don’t judge other parents for their style of doing things. In fact, I like to watch and observe how others reprimand their children. Seeing a mom yell at her kids makes me feel good! It makes me feel like I am not alone! And yes, sometimes, it makes me thankful that my kids are not that bad! I’ve witnessed tantrums and admired the mom for her finesse out in public. I’ve seen a potty emergency without a bathroom in sight, but plenty of grass and bushes! I’ve seen a blowout diaper in all its glory and a mom with the quick skill to make it go away in a snap. I witnessed a child having a seizure and the mom didn’t skip a beat! I’ve attended a hosted party with at least sixty parents and kids in and out of the house all day long, and the hostess took it all in stride without a sweaty armpit. And I’m not ashamed to admit that I have even gotten jealous over a friend’s double stroller and another’s organized shelving system! These women are my heroes! I learn from them and I appreciate them. They are my friends. They are fellow moms.

Many times, in fact daily, I wonder to myself if I’m even doing the right things as a parent. I’m constantly questioning whether this was the right move, the right thing to say, the correct approach. This is one of many reasons I look forward to play dates…to watch and learn, to ask questions, to share what little I know. Parenting is not easy by any means. In fact, in my lifetime, it is by far the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. If I can get help from a reliable, personable source, I will do so because it takes a village…

Here is a link to a great article I read on using a village to raise your child(ren). Regardless of any political affiliations (Clinton haters), it’s an interesting read and quite insightful for my villagers.

http://www.phdinparenting.com/2009/07/31/it-takes-a-village-to-raise-a-child/#.UA-ospGG6So

Girls vs Boys

As a parent, it is impossible to choose one favorite kid over the other. Each brings to the table his or her own unique traits that make me love them to the moon and back, or make me wanna lock em in the closet until their Dad comes home. Today is one of those days where I wish they were both potty trained, obedient and clean… I know when they’re older I will miss them at this age and I should cherish every moment, blah blah blah. But come on…not everyday is sunshine and roses and some days we wish could be stricken from the record.

Both my son and daughter can be as sweet as pie. They are loving and very generous with the hugs and kisses. Both are great eaters. There are foods they don’t like, but they will try everything at least once. That being said, if they do not eat every 30 minutes, they get cranky. Mind you, it takes 20 minutes to eat a bowl of grapes. I feel like I’m constantly whipping up snacks for them. If my daughter doesn’t eat, she isn’t sweet. I’m convinced that’s where “sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s what little girls are made of” came from. Today was a culinary battle of wills with her and she’s been in time out more times than I can remember to count. All because she cranked out when I wouldn’t give her a piece of Easter candy, or the good strawberries (versus the bad ones??), or because I wouldn’t give her brother’s lunch to HER first. She told me he can have what she doesn’t finish. Oy vey.

My son discovered his wiener, aka peepers, in recent months. It’s a natural part of growing up, the self-discovery process. At his age, 20 months, it is nothing sexual. It’s an identification thing. This is his. He found it. He wants to look at it and see how far it can stretch while his britches are being changed. When his pants aren’t too constricting around the waist, he sticks his hand in his pants to make sure his peepers is still there. This action has been the center of attention and laughter at many a party and at plenty of Target visits. The laughter this elicits has encouraged his behavior and he will laugh right along with everyone else. Sometimes he’s the first one to bellow out a howl to draw the attention. It’s a big part of his daily routine right now. What can I do? He certainly doesn’t listen to me when I take his hand out of his pants and tell him to play with the trucks. He’s a boy and this “playing” thing will never end for the rest of his life. Though I am happy to say, I never went through that with my daughter!

On one sunny afternoon, I left the babies with my dad. He thinks his Grandkids are a joy… as long as they go home with their mother at the end of the day. It was a great day of playing outside after lunch, diving into the toy box, munching on snacks and watching some toons. At one point, the boy walks over to him, happy as a clam, showing his hands to my dad. Dad is wondering where in the heck he left the chocolate for the boy to have gotten it all over his hands. Upon closer inspection, dad realizes it isn’t chocolate at all!! Little Mister “Hands in his Pants” has found the golden nugget! The boy is whisked off to the bathroom for a thorough hand washing and then over to the bedroom for a vital diaper change. That moment deserved a special phone call from father to daughter. I’ll be honest, I giggled like a school girl when that call was over. By the way, my daughter never played with her poop.

The constant grazing of fruits and veggies, and only drinking water everyday has contributed to a very healthy system in my kids. The boy easily poops 5 times a day. (It’s 4p and I just changed poopy diaper #4.) There was a special surprise when I picked him up from his nap. Left unsupervised and unchanged is when the best damage is done. When I walked in, the room was stinky and he was showing me his hands. That’s a bad combination right there. Little Mister “Hands in his Pants” had poopy #3. On a positive note, he tried to wipe the poop off his hands this time. At least that’s what I like to tell myself. His cribsheet was like a giant pair of skid marked undies. Super gross. And you’re welcome for the mental picture. I now have a load of laundry going. Thank goodness my daughter is finally potty trained.

As you can see for yourself, my boy is so typical boy. He likes to play with all things masculine…cars, trucks, balls (both his and the sporting kind), and the occasional Disney Princess, just to name a few. This afternoon, I was called into the living room by cries for mama. Apparently, he spotted one of his golf balls under the couch. Being resourceful and as independent as he can be, he went under there and got it for himself. Piece of cake. The hard part was coming back out. His head was stuck under the frame and he couldn’t move anymore. He was scared, rightfully so, but I still had to contain a chuckle as I saw him struggling to get out. A moment later I returned with camera in hand to memorialize the moment before I freed him from his cranial shackle! He wasn’t happy, but you wouldn’t know that by seeing the giant smile on his face when I snapped the pic. Did I mention he got stuck twice today? Tough lessons are learned the hard way. Thankfully, my daughter never got stuck under the couch.

Everyday is an adventure with my children, boys vs. girls, as you parents already know. Today just happened to be crazier than most and it’s what made me hit the laptop to document the zaniness. They make me laugh. They make me cry, but most of all, they make me proud to be a mama and they validate me, my sleepless nights and all my patient hard work.

By the way, it’s almost 6p and I just changed poopy #5. I hope it’s not a #6 kind of day…