Sometimes You Need the Third Billy Goat Gruff or My Magic Wand is Broken

If you have been following me on social media for even just a week, you know that I am raising one gentle giant and one rabid squirrel. Since my children have such different personalities, parenting them is a real challenge. 

You might be surprised to know that I am the "nice" parent. If you are one of my close friends, "nice" probably isn't one of the first adjectives you would use to describe me. When you are someone who likes to find humor in situations, usually has quick comebacks plus has a solid temper, you should know that you have the power to be hurtful. And as the saying goes, with great power comes great responsibility. This is why I work so hard to be patient with the kids and listen when they are having a difficult moment - because when I'm not careful, I have hurt their feelings unintentionally. And that is something I try to avoid. So while their dad is the one that buys the Icees and candy, I am the one they turn to when they are upset. 

With the Moose, my husband and I are on equal footing when it comes to parenting - he listens to both of us the same. Unfortunately with my little flying squirrel, he responds better to his dad when he is in trouble. This makes me crazy but at the same time, I'm glad he doesn't know that really, I might be the one you should be scared of. Their dad has a heart of gold and wears his emotions on his sleeve, while I could go sleeveless and you'd never know something was amiss. He also has a booming voice and doesn't put up with too much crap. 

This long explanation is necessary to set the background for the following story. It was the Squirrel's first day of preschool and despite being excited to go, on the morning of, he was decidedly not excited anymore. I literally chased him through the house for 30 minutes and never got him out of his pajamas, much less ready for school. At one point, he locked himself in the bathroom, which while it was frustrating, I was glad that 1) he is mature for his age since I'd expect this behavior from a preteen girl and 2) he had taught me how to pick the lock. I tried all my mothering tricks - reassuring him he'd have a great day; rocking him and listening to his feelings; distracting him on a different subject to try to get him out of his pjs; being stern - all to no avail. I was sweating both physically and mentally. Finally, and much to my chagrin, I sent an SOS text to my spouse: "PLEASE come home. Need back up!"

Five minutes later I heard "TRIP TRAP TRIP TRAP TRIP TRAP" (or the garage door open - this part of the story could go either way.) The Squirrel and I hear my husband come in the house. He comes up the stairs and I'm not really sure which way this is going to go. My patient approach has terribly backfired, but will a firm tone work? My husband takes a look at the two of us, wrestling on the floor, red faced and sweaty. 

"It's time to get dressed. Today is the first day of school. Your mom and I are going to work and you are going to school. Let's go." The tone was firm, the volume was slightly louder than a conversation and the effect was immediate. The Squirrel quit squirming and foaming at the mouth and started to get dressed. My husband had saved the day. And it was his parenting style that broke through the hysterics.

There are times I think my husband is too gruff and there are times he thinks I'm too soft. But it's important to remember that we need both styles of parenting for our household. The boys need someone who will rough house and won't put up with a bunch of whining just as much as they need a mom who will stay up and listen to their troubles way past bedtime. Thankfully they have a ying and yang in their parents who both love them more than they'll ever know. And this experience was a good reminder that my way isn't always right. Sometimes you need the third Billy Goat Gruff rather than the fairy godmother.

New School Year Resolutions or How to Set Unreasonable Expectations for Yourself

It's the start of a new school year which always makes me think of new beginnings. And new beginnings makes me think of New Year's and New Year's makes me think of resolutions. Hence, New School Year Resolutions, bigger and better than ever before! Here are my new overly confident and unrealistic expectations for myself:

1. Prepare an entire week's - no, MONTH's - worth of meals on a Sunday. What a great idea! I'm going to spend one of the two days I have off a week to bake and cook ahead. In theory this will mean that I won't be as stressed during the school week when it comes to dinnertime. In actuality, I'll forget to defrost one of these meals when I need it and we'll still end up at McDonald's.
Progress Report: So far I've made blueberry muffins from scratch, waffles to freeze, 5 dinners (also in the freezer) and prepped 2 containers of sweet corn. I'm exhausted and the muffins are half gone because I live in a house of locusts.
2. Make sure to include vegetables and fruit at every family meal - and of course those will be eaten together at the dinner table. I'm really good at prepping fruit each week but I admit that I suck at serving vegetables at dinner. Not anymore! From now on, we'll be serving all four food groups - or food from the pyramid - or food from the healthy plate - damn you Government for continuously changing what constitutes a visual aid for healthy eating! Heck, even I'm confused now. Okay, well, whatever the meal is supposed to contain, we are going to start serving it.
Progress Report: I've stocked the fridge with fresh fruits and vegetables and predict my boys still won't eat the veggies. My husband admits he won't be helping with the vegetables because he hates them too. Oh well, you can't serve them if you don't buy them and you can't throw them away if you don't make them in the first place.
3. Eat less dessert. Oh, the harmful effects of sugar! We are going to start eating fruit for dessert and pretending that the sweetness of a strawberry is just as satisfying as an ice cream cone. And for those of you who truly feel this way, we are no longer friends. It's a values thing.
Progress Report: I accidentally bought more Double Stuffed Oreos. Shoot.
4. Establish healthy bedtime routines. Each night at 7:30 p.m. we will read for the designated 30 minutes before bed, unrushed by the sports schedules that mean we eat dinner at 8:15 p.m. The kids will brush their teeth for 2 minutes and then scamper to bed, where they will promptly fall asleep in 10 minutes and will stay asleep until they cheerfully wake up at 6:30 a.m. They will then put on their clothes that we laid out a week in advance and eat a healthy breakfast.
Progress Report: I've been preparing for this one! Last week I started getting the kids out of bed before 9:30 a.m. But Saturday night we were out til 10 p.m. and Rocco NEEDED a late night pork chop at 10:15 p.m. They rolled out of bed at 9:30 a.m. on Sunday and I'm pretty sure Monday morning is going to be rough.
5. Create a methodical system for organizing all of the school papers, homework, etc. It makes sense to have a system in place so I can find every sheet that needs a signature as well as keep track of which kid needs to turn in which assignment at school on what day. This system will involve color coordination and files. I can hardly wait!
Progress Report: It's Sunday afternoon and I have school papers that need my signature scattered all over the dining room table. Rather than organizing them, I am blogging. It's not looking good so far. Although I did put milk money in Rocco's lunch account before I started writing so that's a start. And everyone knows that milk does a body good. Winning!
6. Stay calm and relaxed during the hectic school year, even with abrupt schedule changes and additions. Change is inevitable and I've always wanted to be one of those parents that looks so peaceful as they drive from one school to another, one practice to another, all while having healthy snacks in the car for their kids. I want that zen too dammit! This year is my year! I can feel it!
Progress Report: Tomorrow is Rocco's first day of Preschool/Pre-K. It also brings us Max's open house, band informational meeting and first football practice. Hyperventilation is already starting to set in. And Max hasn't even started school yet - that's Wednesday. Breathe, breathe.
7. Take care of myself because a healthy mom equals a happy family. Every women's magazine totes the importance of taking a bath, exfoliating, meditating and staying cool with the season's newest makeup palette. This year I'm always going to have a fresh nail color, glowing skin and that before mentioned zen. And I'll workout at least once a day - heck, I'll start walking or going to Pilates each day at work too in addition to hitting the gym before the kids wake up! Walking the dog each morning at dawn will provide me with the nature experience that will be the final piece of my well being. I will be the epitome of health, which we all know will positively affect my family.
Progress Report: Well, I did make it to the gym today. After a two week staycation with my friends, my workout routine is a bit dusty so when the alarm goes off at 4:30 a.m. tomorrow, I'm going to wish I had started establishing bedtime routines for myself! But I am drinking my first glass of water in 3 weeks so that's a great start! My nails are totally chipped so while I'm prepping our healthy dinner of frozen pizza tonight, I'm going to have to fix that. And if I walk each day at work, when am I going to have time to run to Target or get my brows waxed? Hmmm....

Needless to say, I have high expectations that often fall short. This being day one, I'm already recognizing that I might have bitten off more than I can chew. Bottom line, I'd like this school year to run smoothly. I'd like to feel as in control as possible with active kids. While my above intentions are great, realistically, I know that each day I'm going to just try to do my best. And next summer when I find those pre-made meals at the bottom of my deep freeze, I'm sure I'll set new resolutions that include EATING the meals I've prepped in advance. Enjoy the ride my friends - the bus ride that is.

Gettin' Groceries and Wrinkles or Want to Come to Costco with Me?

The time has come. I knew it would happen someday, but still, it seems too soon. I have turned into a full-fledged, card-carrying adult. The evidence? I have purchased a grocery-getter.*


(Dramatic pause for your gasp)

For the past month, Pete and I have been car shopping. The main criteria was that the car was all-wheel drive because if I'm driving the kids around on slippery roads, I wanted a safe car. That narrowed down the vehicle field. Initially I was drawn to the Nissan Juke, which not only has a cool name but is a super awesome little car. I was so excited - black and red interior - just what I need! Then I saw the trunk space and that's when I knew. I was old. I recoiled as I looked at the trunk and said, "I couldn't get a day's worth of groceries in that thing! There's no way that will work." We settled on the Subaru Outback - not only is it known as a safe car, it is all-wheel drive and...it has so much space! My boys have a ton of room in the back seat and I can buy a week's worth of groceries without worrying about space. That's right, I have a freaking grocery-getter and I'm stoked.

When did I start wanting to make responsible, family-friendly purchases willingly? It started slowly with the Dyson (Best. Vacuum. Ever.) But still I didn't see the signs of responsible adulthood coming and now I have a glorified station wagon. But in my defense, I'm not the only one to succumb. Just last week I was out to dinner with my two best friends. As we sipped our wine, we waxed on about the virtues of new windows and debated how to keep a basement from flooding - it would probably be worth the money to have the basement repair people check it out. Time out! How did we get here I want to know!? I met these women in my very early twenties and worked at Victoria's Secret with them - I have had such silly moments with these two and not once did they involve expensive windows or cargo space. Our worlds have evolved from perky bra to nursing bras.

And that's okay. We all have families now that we love more than we could ever describe. We want to provide safe houses and vehicles for them. It is just odd when you realize that without noticing, your priorities in life have completely shifted. In our early twenties, we were trying to figure out how to graduate college while going to class as little as possible (maybe that was just me.) In our later thirties we are trying to figure out which sports leagues to sign our kids up for and if we can make it to all of the practices. My clothing purchases have shifted from expensive bras to expensive sports shoes. Our younger years parties were BYOB; now we are organizing potlucks for soccer tournaments - and having as much if not more fun. Change is good. Eventually we'll cycle again as we go through the empty nest phase and I'll be back in my smaller cars and my friends will buy cruises instead of windows. Thank goodness for lifelong girlfriends because I'm hoping to go with them! But for now, we are too busy figuring out bus schedules to look up cruise packages.

I must confess, I was super excited to go to Costco today - how much will that trunk really hold? And my fate as an adult is sealed.

*No vans ever. Seriously. I know how much some of you love them. I have to draw the line somewhere.

You Liked Them When You Were Little OR There's No Such Thing as TMI

In an attempt to overcome some of my body image issues, I've been wearing a bikini to the beach. It's kind of like looking at spiders if you have arachnophobia - if you take the fear head on, you'll overcome it, right? Who knew how much this would backfire.

The Moose is 10 years old and was adamant about me wearing a one piece. "Mom, it would be so embarrassing if you wear a bikini!" Obviously this comment is disturbing. Am I such a monstrosity that wearing a two piece swimsuit would emotionally scar my child for life? God help me, get me some Slim Fast! Because I believe in completely understanding my latest annual review from my child, I dig deeper.

Me: "Okay, you have to tell me what is so awful about me wearing a bikini."

Moose, groaning: "Mom, I CAN'T tell you."

Me: "Yeah, well that's not going to work so I'll just start asking. Is it my legs?"

Moose: "No."

Me: "My tummy?"

Moose: "No."

Me: "My tattoo?"
Moose: "No."

Me: "My scar?" (I have a 7 inch vertical scar on my stomach courtesy of Rocco. Some push present.)

Moose: "No."

Me: "My belly button ring?"

Moose: "No."

(My twenties were awesome! I did a lot of cliche college student body art.)

Me: "I'm out of ideas."

Well, after more probing from my husband, it turns out my boobs are the culprit. Yes folks, my boobs. The one thing that I don't have much of was the one thing Moose found too embarrassing to be around. Unfortunately there's not much I can do about them and informed Moose as much. If boobs were the issue, he could just suck it up.

So now I go to the beach in a yellow bikini (go big or go home is my motto), a little happy that my boobs could actually attract notice for once. Except that backfires with the Rock.

As we are walking up to the Tropic Snow stand, I am physically accosted....by my four year old, who has taken a handful of my boob. To be honest, the first thing in my head was "what now?" Instead this conversation followed:

Me: "Rock, what are you doing?! You can't grab my boob."

Rock: "Yes I can." (Always so literal...)

Me: "Yes I see that, but you need to let go of it. You don't grab my boobs."

Rock: "But boobs are my favorite!"

This piece of enlightenment earned a solid 20 second pause from me.

Me: "Well, that's great that you like boobs, but you can't grab mine."

Rock: "I like them and those boobs are mine."

Me: "Those boobs haven't been yours in over 3 years. They are mine now."

Perfect time for my husband to overhear this conversation and join in. From this point forward, he and Rock argued over who had ownership of my boobs. I cut in to remind them that the said boobs were indeed mine, with a warning look at my husband that hopefully conveyed to end the conversation if boobs were his favorite too.

Obviously I have underestimated the power of my boobs. I breastfed both kids with them which is a pretty amazing feat of nature. (And now understanding how they feel about them, their eating habits make a lot more sense.) I never thought they would cause so much controversy for my older son or fascination with my younger son - and my husband. Being a mom, they sort of became a utilitarian feature on my body, one I don't give too much thought about anymore, especially after the breastfeeding makeover they received. While I'm not excited that they incite mortification in adolescent boys or that my youngest has already established himself as a boob man, I'm a little happy that they still are noticed. It's a wonder more superheros aren't women.