Laying it all out there

Funny thing about blogs, we get to edit our lives.  We share only what we chose to share.

For the past two weeks, I haven't shared a thing. 

My excuses: I work away from home, a family business that is super super busy right now.  The twins have been playing baseball, which my dear hubby is coaching.  Oh and dear hubby started a new job, which makes things a little crazy too.  Plus little man is having a terrific transition from being two to three.  (this morning I found him after he poured dish detergent in the toilet, flinging toilet bubbles at the puppy). And the last thing I want to do at night is get back on a computer.

And then I feel guilt: for not writing, for being a one year blog, for not laying it all out there, for disappointing those who do read faithfully, for not reading others.

This morning it hit me.  I started this blog a year ago in secret.  I didn't start it for readers, I started it for me and somewhere along the way I got sidetracked.  Not that I don't love comments and followers.  That is just not why I started.  Blogs can change, transform, morph, grow, digress.  It happens.  No one is paying me to write, I write because I enjoy it.  I no longer enjoyed it when it became like a job and I felt guilty for not doing so. 
I am a mommy writer who wants to track the milestones of her children.  Those moments that you always want to remember, but know you won't if you don't capture them in some way.  Those are the moments I want to write about.
Along the way I started writing about other stuff to - because I am also a person away from a mom.  I realized I am kind of lost as that person right now.  I've decided to make a few changes in my life.

On June 1, 2010 I will breathe free.  For all you non-smokers that means I'll have my last cigarette on May 31st and actually quit for the 101st and final time.  I need to do it, I have tried to do it, I've done it before.  But this time for good.  For all of you gasping at my demise. I know.  For those of you who are closet smokers, remember I know who some of you are, and I won't hate on you when I quit.

On June 7, 2010 I am starting the couch to 5k program.  I want to run.  I've played sports, but somewhere in the last few years, I've become not a couch potato per say but a slacker for sure.  I want to be able to run with my children again without losing my breath. 

I also want to lose 15 lbs that I have put on in the last 1 1/2 years (did you know you can actually feel your metabolism change).  I've been virtually the same size for 15 years (minus a couple of pregnancies) and this sloth that I have turned into recently is really not me.  I used to be in such great shape.  I am working my way back into pilates and eating correctly.  No diet here, just awareness and more of doing what I know is good for me.

It is really hard to lay all of this out there.  But here it is.  I will share my journey and the journey of my children.  But I am not going to write like it is my job anymore.  I can't.  I have a job, or two, or three.  I don't need another.  I hope you stay with me, but if you don't, I understand that too.

with my heart on my sleeve
MamaO

Mother in Laws are good for making the kids barf

I have been holding out on everyone.  Mostly out of fear that if I let the cat out of the bag it won't be true.  It's been 2 years and three months since dear hubby had a real job.  He was in commerical construction before the bottom dropped, and his company was one of the first to fall.  I was predicting the collapse 8 months before it happened. 

Anyway - he became a stay at home dad, which was a difficult transition. 
Until 2 weeks ago.
Yes, he got a job, back in construction.  Not as great as it was, but a job! 

I feel weird about it.  But that is for another day.

In the meantime, his mother is watching the boys.  His mother who was conviently laid off about 6 weeks ago.  Typically she watches the kids at our house, but at times she takes them to hers.

Last week a terrible stomache virus went around her house.  Dear Hubby's grandmother got it and ended up dehydrated. 

Fast forward to 12:30 Friday night.  Peacefully sleep inturrupted by screams of a child laying in his own puke.  And hour later, the same screams. At that point I was up and cussing my mother in law.  Poor little man was sick every half hour there after until 4:30 am.  I felt so sorry for him.  Especially when he would look at me and say "mouth ehhhh mouth."

I decided my mother in law was to pay.  I haven't decided how much yet, but 4 1/2 hours loss of sleep must count for something.

What is your mother in law good for?

Twins mean never taking a break

I'm taking a break from Friday's Featured Cause - to talk a little bit about one of the biggest causes in my house.  (don't worry, you'll have a new feature next week).

The biggest cause in our house is not usually the chd, it is usually a four letter word.

TWIN.

Or sometimes a five letter word

TWINS.

It is amazing how two little people can cause so much chaos in one house.


The twins are 7 now, and I have attempted to get used to the fact that we have twins.  I refer to them as the twins, only to seperate them from little man.  Little man cannot do many of the things they can, so they have a different set of rules.  But in our house I call them by their names (except for when I say the wrong name, heaven forbid).  They are two different people who happen to look a whole lot alike and share the same birthday.

To be honest, all the boys in my house look alike.  They are all blonde haired and blue eyed just like their Daddy.  I'm the one who gets to deny them with my dark hair and green eyes.

The twins only stand out because they also happen to be the same height, carry the same facial expressions, and happen to be able to read each other's minds on occasion.  And on occasion it still drives Mommy NUTS!

Listening to them tell me about their day at school now requires raising of hands.  Otherwise the competition to talk, the completing of each other's sentences and the volume level all leave me not knowing who actually did what.  Just because they know what happened to each other doesn't mean I do.

Nuts is also what happens when Mommy accidentally switches someones lunch.  I have color coded most everyday items in our house to simplify life.  T1's favorite color is red, so his bookbag, lunchbox, jacket and bat bag are all also red.  T2's favorite color is blue - so there you are.  It works great, except when Mommy is in a rush and doesn't pay attention to which bag she grabs and puts it in the wrong bookbag.  "MOMMY HOW COULD YOU?" is the response I get when they return home.  As if they don't have the exact same lunch (somethings are actually the same).

When they try to yell at their tone deaf Mommy from across the yard, I think they go nuts.  Mommy only gets their screaming from an acre away voices right 50% of the time.  For some reason that gets on their nerves.

Bedtime is still rough, although it isn't as nutty as it used to be.  We've never quite mastered the don't pester your brother when it is time to go to sleep.  It is a whole lot easier than it was, just not great.

There are a lot of things I've learned about twins in the past seven years, and I know I still have a lot left to learn.  They are two very different people, they just have a lot in common.  As their Mommy I work hard to take care of them both at the same time, while adjusting to their individual needs.  But still, when they were very little and I had no sleep, I would sit rocking them both and think "thank God, I didn't have triplets." 

When you are looking for a break, I've got the spot for you.
Today's post was inspired by the blogiversary at Multiples and More.  It's a great group that I have been a part of since right after I started blogging.  If you are looking to find out more on twins, triplets, quads, quints, then hop on over there.  Plus they have a ton of giveaways to celebrate this week!!!

Can you describe yourself in 10 words?

Tabitha at I Choose Bliss did a post where she was able to describe herself in 10 words.  I love her description!  It is exactly her. 

But 10 words.  10 adjectives - not 10 things like mom, wife, etc.  I wasn't so sure I could do it, but I wanted to try.

thoughtful

loving

aggressive

loud

shy

 

Well that is five.  I'm halfway there.  And I'm stuck.  Going to bing some people adjectives.

(I don't like their pic today).  

I found this great foreign language website with a huge list of English words used to describe people. I could be annoying, eccentric, gregarious, lascivious, obnoxious, virtuous.  They really have some cool words, but those don't fit me. 

 

I'm not eccentric - I'm more of a plain person.  Solids and jeans and flip flops and such.  I guess that makes me more...more.. what's the opposite of eccentric?  The computer says normal is the opposite of eccentric.  I don't think normal counts for this exercise.

 

Let's see, I'm

optimistic

resourceful

 

That makes seven.  And I'm still struggling.  I need three more.

sarcastic

giving

 

I only need one more and I just can't seem to do it.

I give up.

This exercise is hard.  Give me one adjective you would use to describe me.  And if you think it's easy- you do it!

 

 

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. ~Dr. Seuss

FFC: Army of Women

As moms, daughters, sisters, wives, friends, we are an Army Of Women.  We can make a huge inpact on the world around us.  The reason I created Friday's Featured Cause was to spread the word about causes' that are near and dear to our hearts.  We can raise awareness and funds all among ourselves.  If you want to guest post on your cause, please go here!

Apparently the the Dr. Susan Love Research Foundation and the Avon Foundation for Women, a global leader in breast cancer research, know how awesome women are, because they came together to form the Love/Avon Army of Women.

I believe that each person reading this has been or knows someone affected by breast cancer.  It is rapant in our world.
Almost 2 years ago, my husband's aunt died after a long battle with cancer.  It started in her breast, and she battled it into remission.  When it came back, it came back into her brain.  She left a huge family behind that still mourns for her.  Unfortunately, my story is not uncommon.
 
  "More than 200,000 women are diagnosed with breast cancer in the United States each year, and more than 40,000 will die from the disease this year alone."

The Love/Avon Army of Women believes that if we ban together we can make a difference and we can fight breast cancer.

Army of Women has 2 goals:

1.  To recruit one million healthy women of every age and ethnicity, including breast cancer survivors and women at high-risk for the disease, to partner with breast cancer researchers and directly participate in the research that will eradicate breast cancer once and for all.
2. To challenge the scientific community to expand its current focus to include breast cancer prevention research conducted on healthy women.

That means that every single one of you reading this (as long as you are female) qualify to join the Army of Women!  Sign up, and then you are able to partner with a research project.  You'll be able to choose which research projects suit you best - or if any at all. 

Yesterday I signed up for one that was done online regarding finding information on breast cacner.  Yes, it can be just that easy.

But they need more women. More women willing to give of their time to help cure breast cancer! Who is with me???

  

I'm Joining the www.ARMY OF WOMEN.org!

 

Weaknesses, I don't have any weaknesses!

Ask someone who loves you what one of your weaknesses are.  That's what Mama Kat said to do for this week's Writer's Workshop.  Who wants to do that? (well if you want to - go play along here).

I didn't want to - and I sure as hell wasn't going to ask my husband what my weakness is.  He'd come up with a whole darn list. Then I'd have to defend myself against all his crap leading to an epic battle of good verses evil.

I'd like to stay married, so no thanks.  I did however ask my best friend, who loves me no matter what.

Me:  I'm working on a project - need to ask you, What is my weakness?
BFF: You want to help everyone.  What is the project?
Me:  Why is helping everyone bad? Nope, not telling the project.
BFF: I think it is good to help people, just you need to take care of you too.

Well.  I guess it could have been worse.  She could have said my weakness was dirty old men.

Honestly - I know all they psyh crap that Oprah shows every week.  Mom's don't take care of themselves enough.  We need to put ourselves first.  If we don't take care of ourselves, we won't be able to take care of anyone else.  BLAH BLAH BLAH.

She is my best friend and she is right.  I have extreme issues with doing anything for myself.  I shut right up when she said it.  I didn't want to talk about it anymore with her, because she knows me best.  And she'll argue with me.

You guys, well, you guys can't argue until I actually post this.  So I get to voice my opinion first.

Helping people is not a weakness.  I love to help people.  I love to be a Mommy and care for my family.  I love to care for those outside of my family.  I will go out of my way to help someone who needs it under one condition.  They help someone else when they are able.  If you are a lifesucker (meaning you suck the life out of others) then sorry- no can do.

I give of myself because I enjoy it.  Yes, there are times when I get run down - exausted - a little frazzled.  But those times are worth it.  I was born to be a mom, to give to others, to take care of others.

So what if I believe others should come first.  Why is that a big deal?  Why is it a big deal that I only own 2 pairs of jeans, if I am able to make sure my children have enough.  I can wash my own, and mine don't get as dirty.  Why is it a big deal that I skip my trips to the dentist to send the kids?  I believe that if my family and those around me are taken care of- then that is all that matters.  I make do because I want to, not because I have to.

After stating my case I disagree, giving to others is not my greatest weakness.  (I still love you BFF).  I may need help from time to time taking care of me, but not too often to worry.  I believe my greatest weakness are those new Reese's Whipped. What's yours?

Wherever you go, go with all your heart. ~Confucius

10 years from now...

First off - this is all Desert Rose's fault!  If I hadn't read her post I wouldn't have realized a few things.

It started off innocently, she was talking about where she would be in 10 years.  I was reminded of the same projects from high school and middle school.  I thought they were neat then.  Especially since I've gotten half of my predictions right.

When I was 10, I was told to predict myself at 30.
have gone to college, be a model, be married, have children, own a large house, have a dog

Well, we do own a house, but it is not a large one.  Not when there are 5 of us and 2 dogs, not just one.  I'm still working on the model part though.

When I was in high school, I was also told to predict myself at 30.
have graduated college, married, with children, own a house, work with my father in the trucking business

Technically, I never graduated.  I have 7 credits left.  At the time, there were not enough teachers for my major and it was going to take me 2 years to get 7 credits.  I was paying my own way and didn't think a part time job was going to suffice. blah blah blah excuses.  Anyway, I accomplished the rest of my dreams.

On to the future.

10 years from now I hope to be in a bigger house.  If not, the twins will be hanging off their bunk beds and T2 will hit his head everytime he tries to climb in.  Why? Because they will be teenagers (shrieks)!!!!!!!
And little man will be a tween.
And I will be 40!

10 years from now I may be in a mental institution.  Where will you be?

Adolescence is a period of rapid changes. Between the ages of 12 and 17, for example, a parent ages as much as 20 years. ~Author Unknown

Not Smarter than a Preschooler

It is amazing what kids are learning these days. The twins are second graders and already memorizing their multiplication tables. Somehow I thought that was a third grade lesson (but maybe I went to the wrong school).






When you finish 13 years of grade school, college and have lived in the real world for a few years, you believe you know a lot. Enter a child and you realize you know NOTHING. When the twins were 4, T2 asked what fog was. T1 said it was teeny tiny raindrops and I agreed. T2 asked again what it really was and how it is only there sometimes. Well I don’t know. So I called an expert, my father. My father has general knowledge about lots of things and while he started to explain all the complexities of fog to me, I interrupted and said – now try explaining it to a four year old. So we settled on fog is a really low cloud that forms when cold air passes over a warm ground. And the T1 said “see, it is really teeny tiny rain drops.”

I thought of this on our trip to the beach when T1 said, “I know how waves form, it is the wind.” I answered, “yes.” I mean how am I going to explain the complexities of gravity and the moon and the earth’s rotation. I’m sure the wind plays a part, so he’s right… sort of. There are times when the simple answer will just not work, and I have to go into great detail about how something works or is made. These times are usually when I find out exactly how SMART I am.

When the twins were 4, while on the way to preschool, T2 asked what roads were built on. I said the road was built on dirt.

This was sufficient for about a day, then they asked again, "How are roads built?" As we passed a construction crew we talked about the smoothing of the dirt, and the asphalt machine, and the machine that makes it smooth. I thought they were satisfied with that answer.

The next morning T2 asked "How are roads built on water?"
“They are not built on water, they are built on dirt”
“But Mommy there is water running under the road!”
“No, there is no water under the road, it is dirt.”
“Then Mommy, what is that?” As Tyler pointed to a fire hydrant.
“Ok, yes there is water in pipes running under the dirt, under the roads that goes to the fire hydrant” (and I am not smarter than a preschooler)

"Education is the progressive realization of our ignorance."

Albert Einstein

Wednesday - ehhhh

It's Wednesday and I need to get a few things off my chest. 

For all those who want to know - physically it is easier to have twins than to have a singleton.  At least in my case.  Really, two five pound babies were much easier to push out than one over nine pound baby.  And what that one nine pounder did to my body.  Forget stretch marks-

When I first went to the fancy digestive doctor about a year ago - he looked at me and said
"You do realize that after having a nine pound child you are going to have problems.  You are going to have hemrrohoids."

Great I thought.  A year later I'm back at the same doctor. Again the same jokes.  Again my 9 pounder caused my issues, only now I'm on all these fantastic drugs for 2 weeks to solve my issues (which you don't want the details of).

So excuse me if I'm a little cranky.

On to you jerks who invented this latest spyware/malware/virus crap that is disguised as a antivirus program.  You are on my nerves.  Don't you have anything better to do?  I have now fixed two computers (one at work and one at home) due to your crap.  It is not in my job description and apparently you need a job.  If you can create that crap- I'm sure you'd make better money at some tech place fixing computers.

Lastly, winter I've had enough.  I'm ready for spring.

So Mommy is a Girl

In case you haven't noticed all the blue and brown around here, I -the Mommy - live in a house full of boys.

People say boys are more rambunctious than girls. They say they get dirtier.  I don't really know, because I have no comparison other than myself, and well I don't really remember that far back.

Most of the time, the twins don't even remember that Mommy is a girl, unless I do something outrageous like put on makeup.  Then they look at my face and say "Mommy, you put that stuff on!"  It's the kind of normal in my house, that Mommy is expected to get out and play sports and get dirty, just like the boys.  We all have water fights, and nerf gun wars.  It was all well and good until Santa brought the dirt bike. 

Don't get me wrong, the boys love riding it (now that it is no longer as cold as the Arctic).  They and Dear Hubby have created grand plans for everyone in the family to have one, and to go ride trails together.  Everyone that is, except Mommy.  Mommy is supposed to ride a 4 wheeler.  Not Dear Hubby's rule, the twins rule.

Reasons Mommy needs a 4 wheeler.  A: Mommy is a girl B: Mommy could get hurt.

Well how 'bout them apples?

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.  I am not allowed to have a dirt bike?  Me?  The-non- primpy- hates to wear a dress- played rugby- Mommy?  Shock wasn't even the word.  I was a little more upset.  What have I taught my children that they think I shouldn't have a dirt bike? 

After some conversation T1 did finally come around and agree that I could ride, and he would even teach me.  T2, against it.  He was really afraid of Mommy getting hurt.  This from the child without fear of his own life flashing before his eyes.

Saturday, we decided to go for it no matter what the twins said.  T1 reluctantly taught me to ride, and T2, decided it was ok, "since I didn't get hurt."

Any "girls" in your house?

Dear Coach who is an %&&, these kids are only seven

Dear Coach who is an %&&,

Our children have been playing sports since they were wrestling in the womb.  They love sports and have unreal desire to play each and every game there is.  Even though they did not get their awesome athletic ability from me, I am going to support them in everything they do.

When I take them to practice or games, we go in expectation of having fun.  It is about enjoying exercise, learning something new, having fun with friends.  If we happen to win, great, if we don't, that is ok too.  I've taught my children that for every "winner" there must be a "loser" and that good sportsmanship is as important as actually winning the game.  They know they are not going to win every game and they know it is ok to lose.  At least they tried. 

During our last game, I was appalled at how you yelled at your players.  Your tone was one of a dictator instead of a coach and you never ever told them good job for something they did right.  Yes, your team is fairly good - they've been playing together since they were 4.  No, our team has not been playing together for longer than 2 months.  Most of our players haven't even played soccer before, but I didn't think that should matter. Apparently it does matter.  Apparently it means that your team should beat our team each and every time.

I know we amazed you when your team was only able to score on us once in the last game.  Does that mean you should get pissed off?  Does that mean you should yell that your team should have scored more?  Does that mean you should be mad at your team?  They tried really hard to score more often.  It just so happened that our goalie had learned a lot throughout the season and was on his A game that night.  Ever think to tell him good job?  After all they are only 7-8 year olds.

And our goalie - he thinks you're nuts.  He's glad you're not his coach (there went your dreams of recruiting an awesome goalie).  He loves that he was able to make a mean coach mad.

Sincerely,
Mom of the goalie who pissed you off

a Fight for Preemies

Today, November 17, is dedicated to raising awareness of premature birth (before 37 weeks).  1 in 8 children in the US are born premature, leading to time spent in NICU and dangerous complications.  In my house 2 of my 3 children were born premature.

For some of us (especially Moms of Multiples) we get it early on.  We know that our children are not going to make it to full term and we start weighing our options and setting benchmark dates early on.  I think for us, it is easier to carry longer because we are very aware of the survival rates.

When I was pregnant with my singleton, no one ever said a word about benchmark dates other than my "due date" and no one said a word about the need to make it as long as possible. I believe that every pregnant woman should know what dates are important for the chance of their child's survival and how to strive for those dates. Because the reality is nearly 13 million babies are born premature each year and more than 1 million of those don't make it.

If you, or someone you know (I sound like a commerical) are pregnant, do some research, educate your self and then pass it along.  The March of Dimes or the Mayo Clinic  has loads of information in addition to what I have below.

• Week 22 - the first time life outside of the womb is possible, but with the most risk
• Week 25 - your baby almost weighs 2 lbs
• Week 27 - the branches of the lungs are just starting to develop, chances of survival increase
• Week 34 - organs almost fully developed, except for lungs
• Week 35 - lungs almost fully developed - but still the chance of the incubator
• Week 37 - baby is considered full term (even though your due date is still 3 weeks away and your baby needs to grow more in size)

Please join us and share your story -

what happened AFTER the parent/teacher conference

This past Friday I went to the dreaded parent/teacher conference. I wasn't really worried - they've been great in school.  But these are 7 year olds in the 2nd grade and I believe in parent involvement.  I don't have to be the class mom, but I do want to know what is going on with my kids.

The conference went really well - I was a proud Mommy as I sat and listened to the teachers just rave about how wonderful our boys are at school.  (Inside thinking, are you talking about the same kids who have knock down drag out fights at home?)

Anyway -that's not the point of the story - although I wish it was.  At 8am the bell rang for the students to go to their classrooms and we quickly finished up.  As the teachers were nice enough to combine the conference for the twins, we happened to be meeting in T2's classroom.  I was about to get up when T2 comes bounding into the room and says to all his friends, "That's my Mommy!"  and he came over and gave me a big hug.  He and I talked for a minute and I tried to figure out why the side of his neck was hurting.  Then I told him bye, I wanted to see T1 before the tardy bell rang.  T2 gave me a hug bye and I went next door.

T1 was in class, unpacking his book bag, and immediately saw me from across the room.  I walked in and said, "Just wanted to say hi since I saw T2."  He looked at me with this strange look on his face, something I didn't recognize at first, as he replied "Hi"

T1's assistant teacher immediately engaged me in conversation and I half listened as I watched my son who was beginning to intrigue me.  He came within about 3 feet of us to put his jacket and book bag in his cubby.  We made eye contact, I tried to engage him in the conversation his teacher and I were having about him, but he just looked at me.

He looked at me with an awkward almost, but not quite, embarrassed look.  He rolled his eyes at me.  Then he went back to his seat without a word.  I finished my conversation and said bye from across the room, T1 grinned, his class clown grin, and said "bye."

That's when I got it.

This was the first time my son didn't want me.

He didn'tt want his MOMMY to embarrass him.  In class he is cool - but having MOMMY there in the morning makes him NOT cool. 

Well-
Next time Mommy is going to walk right over and make a big production out of hugging her baby boy!

Has your child had their "Mommy's not cool" moment yet?

The 80's are back to haunt us!

Have you noticed that when you go into the store today the clothes look a little...well... like they are straight out of the 80's?  Jean skirts with leggings underneath, leg warmers, polka dots.  I am just waiting until they bring back hammer pants, I can so see the twins in some. 

It took us until the middle of the 90's to figure out that the 80's were a bad idea, and yet here we are again not quite 20 years later going back to the same ole thing.

Could it get any worse? 

Well yes, they could bring back 80's hair. 

• Hair that requires a whole can of hair spray each and every morning. 
• Antenna bangs, mullets, straight on top and curly on the sides.
• Crimped hair.
• Great big, gigantic hairbows.
• And my personal favorite, wearing it pulled back on one side with one of those fancy bows and done on the other, all while your bangs are sprayed high enough to reach the moon.

Manic Mother decided to do a little photo contest and see who had the worst hair contest.  I think it is really a warning to the younger generation not to bring back 80's hair.

I was going to do it - I really thought about it.  I chickened out.

But go see what she's got linked up

Baby Einstein doesn't make my child smart???

I've been away for a few days - had to take a break from blogosphere.  I have some other posts I've been working on and lots of blogs to read, but I'm still on break.

Except I read this article today and about fell out of my chair.   Apparently Disney is offering a refund on Baby Einstein DVD's after they recieve a letter threatening lawsuit from some public health lawyers.  (want the details- read the article)

The point is - the lawyers believe there was false advertisement and that parents believe these DVD's were making their children smart, when in fact we were just plopping them down in front of another TV show.  Before you all start shouting, I understand they were learning stuff, specifically the stuff you wanted them to learn.  Of course other shows teach them too, my 2 yr old has learned to ask "Where'd he go?"  everytime Nemo disappears.

We all know hours of television/movies/video games is bad.  We all know it makes for shorter attention spans, couch potatoes, etc.   So we  limit the amount of television they watch and force encourage them to go outside.

At least I thought we all knew this, and did this.  But apparently not.

scared of little ol' me???

Scary Mommy is holding an awesome contest this week.  She wants to know what makes us scary, and the scariest Mom will win a prize!  She defines scary a little differently than most would think:

"I believe a Scary Mommy is a mother who doesn’t leave the house wearing lipstick at all times. A Scary Mommy loves her kids to death, but will admit to feeling totally overwhelmed and exhausted by the gig. A Scary Mommy doesn’t really care what other people think, and a Scary Mommy thinks that all mothers win when we admit our weaknesses. How would you describe it? It’s up to you!"

As Mom's we each have our own definition of scary.  Our kids probably have hundreds examples of how we are scary.  My hubby may say my hair in the morning is pretty scary.  But as I thought about how I was scary, I didn't think I could answer this question.  I didn't think the general idea applied to me - even though I never wear lipstick, love my kids more than life, are willing to go to jail for them, can be gross with the best of them, and admit exhaustion on more than one occasion.  But that's a Mom, that's what we do.  We do whatever it takes to get the job done.

Then I had a realization.  It's not what we think of ourselves, but how other's perceive us.

I am not afraid to scream politely tell children, even those who are not my own, to stop jumping off the top of the picnic table, stop taking the legs out from underneath the little kids on the slip and slide and to stop throwing rocks at cars.  This prompted a Dad nearby to ask "Have you ever been a drill instructor?"  He probably thought I was scary -

And then there was the occasion at my son's birthday/pool party when I had all the dripping wet children line up on the kitchen floor to sing happy birthday instead of on the carpet.  Perfectly sane line of reasoning I thought, until my own son decided he was above everyone else and could stand on the carpet.  I did not get overwhelmed and freak out, instead I politely told him to get off the carpet... as my father in law snapped a picture.
 

 

My husband, brother, and father-in-law all believe this is the proof that I am the Scariest Mommy.  Do you???

Dear Soccer Moms

I detest you.  I detested the "soccer mom" persona even before I had kids.  Soccer Moms drive mini vans with soccer ball stickers on the back.  Soccer Moms always have gatorade and healthy snacks at every game.  Soccer Moms dress like they are going to the mall when really they are just carting their kids to every practice under the sun.  Soccer Moms are organized and carry a whole first aid kit in their purse.

I drive a suburban (I hear you gasping at my gas guzzler), it holds more crap than your minivan and if I get rear-ended, my kids aren't going to be crushed.  I prefer juice boxes and chips for an after game snack.  Really, they just played their hearts out and deserve a treat.  I dress like I am going outside, you know, in sweats.  I limit my kids to one sport or other activity per season, because I prefer them to be kids and have time to play outside.  You know, where there is real dirt.  I don't carry a first aid kit, but I do know how to get to the ER if they are really hurt.  Otherwise they are kids and are going to have scraped knees and bruised elbows.

Thats you, this is me.  And for two years our boys played baseball, but then, this fall T1 decided he wanted to play soccer (my gasp) and T2 agreed.  So there I am at every game, in my sweats sitting next to you in your capri pants and blouse.  I'm the one you look at and wonder what's wrong with her, when I scream great job even though someone just made a mistake on the field.  I'm also the one who's kids run the fastest and aren't scared to go for the ball because they may get dirty.

Sincerely,

Mom in the Suburban

Who Prefers Rugby to Soccer Everytime!

Most Admired Mom

T1 got to be the student of the week this week. The student of the week has to bring in pictures and answer some questions about themselves. I helped him by gathering some great pics and spelling all of his answers out on a seperate sheet for him so he could copy them down. (He didn't want to mess up on the sheet that would go on the wall *gasp*).


T2was quite jealous, especially since his class doesn't do student of the week. So T2 decided to rewrite the answers I wrote for T1. These are my boys.

Favorite Color: red BLUE
Favorite Book: The Magic Treehouse HARRY POTTER
Favorite Movie: Harry Potter HARRY POTTER
Favorite Sport: baseball RUGBY
What do you want to be when you grow up: a baseball player A RUGBY PLAYER
What makes you special: I'm a twin I CAN DO 1 PULL UP
What state were you born in: North Carolina
Favorite Food: Poor Man Suprise
Person you most admire: my mom
Favorite Subject: reading MATH



For the record, I don't think T1 actually understood what admire meant, and T2 chose not to answer that question. But either way I'll take it!!!

a 2 yr old ADDICT

Am I a bad Mommy if my 2 yr old is addicted to coffee?

Not the "pulease caffee" kind.

The kind of addict that will stand screaming in front of the coffee pot if there is none made before he wakes up. "CAFFEE! CAFFEE! CAFFEE!"

Really my husband triggered this addiction. He allowed our son to drink from his coffee cup on occasion. And now - my 2 year old must have no less than 2 cups of coffee before he starts his day.
Before watching his favorite movie, before changing of the diaper, before morning kisses, before anything - he must have his coffee. Otherwise this screaming - or high pitched hurt dolphin squeal - erupts from his throat. The squeal alone is enough to send you running for the hills - but then the stomping of the left foot will cause you to double over in laughter. Laughter is not allowed before coffee. Eventually the squeal will turn into something audible although still at very high decibels. Quickly you find a cup and poor the coffee - careful to let him SEE the coffee going into the cup - otherwise he won't believe you put it in there. Quickly add milk, quickly give it to the screaming, crying, dying child who apparently needs his coffee to act normal.

And I thought my addictions were bad.

(disclaimer: caffee consists of 1 oz of coffee, 1/2 tsp sugar, 10 oz milk)

Magic Mommy

I've pretty much convinced my kids that I am magic. When I was a child I wondered how my Mom could know what we were doing even if we were in the other room. As a Mom, I know how. She could hear. Somehow children think they are a lot quieter than they are, and then of course if all is actually quiet we really know something is wrong. This is the secret of Mom's, our ears, but we don't share our secret. Instead, I convince them that I am magic.

• "How'd you know I hit Nathaniel?" "Magic" (I heard him scream, you hit me)
• "How'd you know I was out of the bed?" "Magic" (I heard you)
• "How'd you know we weren't brushing our teeth?" "Magic" (you can't brush your teeth and talk at the same time)
• "How'd you know I was standing here." "Magic" (even while sleeping I can hear a child walk into my room)

When your mother asks, 'Do you want a piece of advice?' it is a mere formality. It doesn't matter if you answer yes or no. You're going to get it anyway. ~ Erma Bombeck