The Good Mom List or Maybe It's Time We Facebook Break Up

Back in "the day" a good mom made sure her child didn't drink bleach, made sure the bath water wasn't too hot, and made sure the kids were home at the end of the day, even if the mom didn't know where they were for the previous 8 hours.

Today, the "good mom" label that I so desperately seek includes the following:

1. Serving a home-cooked meal every night that doesn't include shaped chicken nuggets.

2. Not swearing.

3. Having a supply of art supplies at the ready.

4. Reviewing spelling words EVERY night.

5. Reading to each child for 30 minutes, individually.

6. Not getting on Facebook until everyone is tucked into bed.

7. See #6, but with your iPhone.

8. Exercising every day because it sets a good example and allows you to keep up with your active children.

9. Serving fruit as dessert.

10. Journaling, mediating and doing yoga.

11. Always having a positive attitude.

12. Remembering the kids' daily vitamins.

13. Getting down on the floor to play with the kids every night.

14. Only reading "meaningful" books, that don't include Fifty Shades of Gray.

15. Taking the kids outside at every opportunity.

16. Always being up for play dough and finger paint.

17. Bringing healthy snacks to the sporting events after sending out the petition for a healthy snack policy to the league parents.

18. Attending all PTO meetings and coaching every sport.

19. Remembering every detail from the past 5 years of your children's lives.

20. Not having fruit snacks in the house.

21. Making your own popsicles out of only fruit juice.

22. Baking bread and muffins from scratch.

23. Taking tons of high quality pictures that are promptly scrapbooked.

24. Joyfully listening to Raffi and classical music instead of "Thrift Shop" by Macklemore.

25. Using only natural cleaning products.

26. Having afternoons off for fun trips to the circus, county fair, and local farm.

27. Working a full-time fulfilling job to set a good example for your children, while still providing 9 hours of engaging individualized one-on-one time with each child before an age-appropriate bedtime.

28. Having quiet, well-behaved children at the mall, library, and every restaurant.

29. Getting to church every week instead of sleeping in.

30. Planning educational and interesting weekend trips.

31. Never drinking margaritas while your children run around outside chasing fireflies.

32. Always looking put together, with clean clothes and fresh looking make up.

33. Never yelling at your children, even if they are slamming the doors for the 14th time.  

34. Strictly keeping to the 2-hours a day screen time limit.

35. Having healthy snacks in the car and band aids always in your purse.

Let me just say that if you do 20 or more of these items above on a daily basis, you should just de-friend me on Facebook. If you don't, I will just follow your posts like Single White Female, putting you on a pedestal with the hopes of replicating your perfection while at the same time resenting you for the same reason. Do you every wonder as you drive home from work "How many times did I serve chicken nuggets this week? And is there an appropriate limit? And when does one start counting the days for the week? Maybe the week starts today." I do. And perhaps somedvays my children might think that their names begin with "God Damn It." On a good day, I might be able to knock off 5 of these items from the list. And I keep a "Good Mom" list on my iPhone that I check to make sure I remember those vitamins and the never-ending spelling lists - I swear I'm not checking Facebook while you are telling me what meal you hated at child care from 4 years ago. And if your bath water is too warm? Well, at least you have bath crayons to make art with while it cools. I may even color along. Because, I'm trying God Damn It. And some days, I think that's all that counts.

Teddies, Stockings and Flannel Pajamas or It's a Wonder I'm Still Married

Pajama Reflections:
It is an end of an era. I finally threw away my baby blue flannel Victoria's Secret pajamas.

Back in my college days, I worked at Victoria's Secret part-time. Initially I intended to use the income to help pay my bills, but in the end used all my paychecks and then some on the merchandise itself. I guess it was a win-win for Victoria - I was basically free labor with all the stuff that I bought. I have an entire drawer dedicated to stuff I've only worn once. But it was a growth moment for me too. Not only did I meet my best girlfriends at this store, but I can also tell you the difference between a teddy and a merry widow, explain silk over satin, and extoll the virtues of stockings versus full pantyhose. And lucky for one caller, I also know that a sheer lace babydoll does indeed become see-through if you get it wet. Duh. It's sheer and it's lace. Side note, if you are getting your rocks off by calling Victoria's Secret, at least come up with some interesting questions. If there was a lingerie Jeopardy, I would win.

Back to my flannel pajamas...it was the first Christmas Pete and I were married. I had stopped working at Victoria's Secret so I could intern and graduate into the lucrative field of fitness and wellness. Pete hands me a huge box from Victoria's Secret and I was so excited. What would my husband buy his newlywed, who also knew every product at the Victoria's Secret store? I open the box, pull apart the tissue paper, and what do my wondering eyes should appear? Blue flannel pajamas. And I thought, WTF?

After I started talking to my husband again (a few days later), these are a few of my direct quotes:
"What the hell were you thinking? We just got married and you bought me flannel pajamas??"
"Am I too fat to wear something cuter?"
"FINE! I'll wear these goddamn pajamas every fucking night!"

My husband sputtered a couple of replies like, "But light blue is your favorite color." (true) and "You are always cold at night." (also true). But when you are 21 years old, common sense and reason aren't always readily available - see note above about spending all available income on bras and panties. Being as stubborn as a mule, I did wear those pajamas constantly. At first it was to prove a point but gosh darn it, those were the best pajamas I've ever owned. I guess I was right when I was selling them to customers; they really do get softer with every wash and they do last forever so it's worth spending $55 1997 dollars on them because they hold up.

Being me, I hate to be wrong. But I will admit, I was wrong here. My husband gave me a thoughtful gift that I ended up loving. Sure, they aren't sexy, but as I've gotten older (ie wiser), they were way more practical. I have cleaned up baby puke in them, lounged around on lazy Sundays in them, and have even found them very absorbent for spit up emergencies. My husband is a sweetie that not only bought me a super gift, but also stuck with me while I went into a crazed rage about it. I guess he knew something that I didn't - that life wouldn't always call for satin and lace, but sometimes flannel can be just as good. This lesson is even more true as a mom. We may not stay out all night anymore unless our kids are keeping us up, but life is still pretty awesome. And if these pajamas get wet, they are NOT see-through. Won't be getting any prank calls on these babies!

My pajamas in their prime

Mom Moments that Parents Magazine Doesn't Feature aka Things I Hate

Just a few things I need to get off my chest...

A List of Mom-things I Hate To Do (look who found how to change font colors!)

1. Putting sheets on bunk bed mattresses.
2. Sewing patches on Scout shirts.
3. Yelling at my kids.
4. Not getting to eat ice cream for dinner.
5. Having to explain what a condom is when my son hears it on TV.
6. Paying daycare instead of buying a new car.
7. Having to be very careful where I put my copy of Fifty Shades of Grey.
8. Cleaning up pink throw up. Other colors I can manage.
9. Going to church to set a good example instead of getting to sleep in.
10. Going upstairs to put certain people to bed for the fourth time in the night, especially after I've painted my toenails.
11. Feeling guilty for leaving the house to work out, buy groceries, or go to dinner with girlfriends.
12. Matching little pairs of socks.
13. Making May Baskets (see post from May 2012).
14. Dealing with playground politics.
15. Dropping my kids off at school or daycare. I hate saying good-bye.
16. Working late.
17. Remembering to put money under the pillow for the tooth fairy.
18. Using a 5-point harness while running really short errands.
19. Having a constant supply of fruit snacks, holiday candy and pop tarts.
20. Stopping at one bowl of ice cream in front of the kiddos.
21. Hearing that I look like I am in my late 30's.
22. Being quizzed like I am an encyclopedia when I least expect it.
23. Explaining what an encyclopedia is because the 70's and 80's were SO long ago.
24. Feeling guilty for going to work and feeling guilty for staying home.
25. Baby. Weight.
26. Feeling like I have to make the obligatory comment about how motherhood is worth all of the above. Because that should go without saying. My list of things I love about being a mom is much longer than this list of things I hate to do. But Moms, sometimes it's okay just to admit that there is no glamour in cleaning  smeared poop off the walls - NO ONE loves that part of parenting. Add it to the list!

From Pap Smears to Playgrounds

I was at my annual exam the other day and I realized that I dreaded stepping on the scale more than my pap smear. The annual witnessed weigh in leads to uncomfortable small talk while everyone tries to ignore those three little numbers the nurse writes down. But during my pap smear? Cheerful chatter about vacations and the latest antics of my children. I don't even bat an eye anymore while being probed. It occurred to me that motherhood has stripped me of all semblance of modesty. Motherhood has made me exposed in more ways than one.

I don't know when it happened. Before I was pregnant, the thought of those awful doctor's office gowns made me shutter, because no matter what you do, you are always showing off part of your ass. Just make them bigger people! Even during the first pregnancy I was shy about the usual examinations. Until I had what people innocently call a "pelvic exam" which I like to call the "you-aren't-doing-that-again-unless-I'm-drugged" exam. At that point, I thought 1)Whatthehell? and 2) How is this baby supposed to come out when I thought that sucked?

Breast feeding the Moose, I tried for a while to cover up so I wouldn't expose myself to anyone in the room. But then the Moose had colic and I gave up modesty in an effort to quickly and effectively quiet him down with my boob - this did not help of course because colic is God's little gift to people who need to learn that they can't control everything.

But the coup de gras was Rocco's delivery. Any modesty I had held on to through Max's first 5 years went out the window as I was being raced down the hallway, spread eagle, with a nurse riding my bed with her arm up to her elbow in my woo hoo. Please don't ask me where the sheet was. I don't think it made it for the ride. A few days later when the Rock's explosion into the world settled, I asked Peter to please tell me exactly how many people saw (what Peter calls) my va-jay-jay. "Not too many," was his response, which, unless you are a stripper, is too many people. For a brief second, I cocked my head, thought, "huh" and then went about my day of whipping my boob out whenever Rocco fussed. Exposure was now just a part of my life as a mom.

See, motherhood is a tough game. Perhaps the reason we have to go into the doctor so frequently for examinations during pregnancy is so that we get used to being exposed to the world. Frankly, letting the whole world see my "business" was just a small taste of how exposed you are as a mother. When you are a mother, you recognize that your heart is out there running on the playground, holding your hand at the mall, and sleeping in their crib. Your emotions and what feels like your physical being are impacted by your child's experiences every day. You have no defense - at least I have not yet found a way to shield myself from the everyday exposure of being a mom. Whether your child is picked last for the team or is fighting with bullies on the bus, it strikes you to your core. Our children's victories and challenges are our own. When we see the babies' faces at Sandy Hook, I know I wasn't the only one who literally sobbed, because we know that those babies were really their parents' hearts and souls.

Being a mom makes you vulnerable. Thank goodness children are worth it. Plus, it makes that annual pap smear look like a breeze.

Quick footnote to my parents in case they are reading this: Really sorry about jumping out of a plane to try skydiving. I see now how this might have stressed you out slightly and realize how watching the video of myself careening out of a plane perhaps was not as entertaining to you as it was to me. It was actually pretty fun and I'm glad I did it. But at least now I can understand why you weren't as enthusiastic.

"Maybe" - The Working Mom's Lament or Would You Like Some Fava Beans With That?

Maybe it's because I've been working more lately. Maybe it's because the days are getting shorter. Or maybe it's because my youngest angel has started to bite people like he's Hannibal Lector. Whatever the trigger, I'm starting to wonder how much longer I can juggle it all well. Or at least moderately average.

You know that point in your life where you look around and you think, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep the balls in the air. Work has increased and I find myself working late (as in coming home at bedtime) about once a week, not to mention carrying the stress of work with me like a heavy weight. The Moose's schedule has increased to include two sports, scouts and religious education, plus there's homework. Peter's work schedule has him trading places with me when I get home. And the Rock has decided to start acting out at school.

It came to a head when I got a call that the Rock had decided to use his teeth instead of his words to express his frustration over a train with a "friend" - a very yummy friend it would seem. Pete picked him up later that day and the teacher asked if anything was going on at home because the Rock has been consistently bringing home multiple colors of "lights" a week (green=good, yellow=not-so-good, red=what-the-hell). No, nothing is going on at home. It's good to know that we are starting to resemble a crumbling family. But really, maybe something is. I think we all have been feeling like we are running on an out-of-control treadmill lately and I'm not sure why. Sure the kids are busy and we are busy but this seems like...more.

And this leads me to my natural conclusion that I must be doing something wrong as a parent. The age old debate of being a working mom or a stay-at-home has reared its ugly head again, even after 8 years of this delicate balancing act. As wise old Jackie O said, "If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do matters very much." Or as I say, "Don't fuck it up." I have a death fear that maybe I am. I cook, bake and clean instead of playing tractors or Pokemon. I schedule outings instead of sitting still. The Rock is turning three and as I am planning on testing 3 possible cake recipes this weekend for his upcoming birthday party, I think, maybe I should just sit down and stop.

I love these moments of self-doubt. Maybe the Rock is acting up because we've been running around like chickens lately. But maybe he's acting up because he's almost three and his name is Rocco. I will never know. But I think for today it's time to wrap up my workday, head home and catch the kids before they go to sleep. And this weekend, I'm turning off my work email on my phone. I'm going to need all my attention for my family, especially if I'm going to dodge the biter while I shout spelling words to my third grader.

Survivor-Mommy Style or Someone Please Vote Me Off This Freaking Island Already

Tonight's blog has been inspired from all the moms I know out there, but particularly my new hero mom that just survived a family vacation that ended with her toddler puking in the airport right before the flight was delayed. As soon as her plane landed home, she zipped off to urgent care, the pharmacy, and finally ended her day with doing laundry. I'm no Marine, but I think that deserves a Hurrah!

I find the more I talk to my mom friends or think of my own schedule, the verb that constantly is mentioned is "survive." I posted to my friend above that she "survived" her day. One of my mom friends and I talked about how sometimes surviving the day is success - that treading water and not drowning is sometimes the best you can do. And when I look at our weekly schedule, all I can say is that we are surviving it. The days where I commute 45 minutes to work, work a crazy day, commute home to pick up one boy, dress him quickly for football practice, scoop up the cat for his laser therapy appointment (yes, my cat is getting laser therapy. I know I know, blah blah about taking extra measures about an animal. Here's the thing, I love my cat and by some miracle it actually works), then take the boy to football practice, drive home with said lasered cat, make an allergy-free dinner for the second boy, realize that I haven't paid the daycare yet and it's Tuesday night, pick up the first boy from practice and get him fed and in the shower, put the little boy to bed,  give the little boy a drink of water, put the first boy to bed, take the little boy to the potty, write out checks, and finally tell the little boy to "please for the love of God be quiet and go to sleep!", are actually the days that are considered slow days. And I have help. My single-parent friends, well, heaven help you because I'm losing it with a husband. You are amazing.

Sure, we set these schedules ourselves, according to the internet parenting experts. "It's up to us to say 'no'." And to them I say, screw you. My kids like sports and gym classes. They like scouts and music. They do not like religious education classes, but I signed a contract as a Catholic that said they had to attend until they are 27 and it's out of my control now. The reality is yes, we are overscheduled and we are doing our best by just surviving. Wouldn't it be nice if it were a little like Survivor? But instead of an island, it's actually your own house, with your children and their busy lives. Notice how the survivors get more and more gaunt and sickly looking as the show moves on. And once they are voted off the island, they come back all full and refreshed, showered and combed? In this Survivor game, you have to keep up with an endless series of tasks, like making dinner when you don't have any useful ingredients in the pantry while grabbing the bread knife from your toddler's hands (this actually happened in our house last night), searching for your son's hand cover for his brace/cast in a pile of laundry (this is a timed event), sewing a scout patch on a shirt (ha - good luck - I'd rather make a fire with two sticks), and putting together an "all about me" poster that doesn't look like you helped that much. When people are voted off the island, if you are left, your tasks just got harder because you just lost some help. No wonder you look gaunt and tired! I just ate dinner at 9 p.m. tonight - it was frosted mini-wheats and doritos. What the hell folks?! Please vote me off the island - I need that night to relax, take a hot shower, eat my favorite foods, and then I get to come back the next day in clean clothes and be a part of the jury. I can do that. We all just need a little break from our lives every once and a while. My husband and I are just trying to find a weekend to celebrate our anniversary and we are waiting for the 3rd grade basketball game schedule to be announced before we make a decision. Someone just needs to vote us off before we lose it!

If someone else were writing this, they'd end it with something sappy like, but when you win this Survivor game, you don't get a million dollars, but you get unconditional love, yada yada. But friends, wouldn't it be nice to know that surviving this time in our lives ended in a million dollars? Don't get me wrong - I'll take the hugs and kisses too but my kids would also appreciate that I could send them off to college for doing such a great job making it through their youth. And instead of sending my cat to laser therapy, I'd be going to the spa. Who wants to join me?

Lessons from my Children or Why Did I Bother Going to College

Lessons I've learned from my children over the last eight years

1. Soup always tastes better in a coffee cup.
2. You only need to sucker one parent for a new kitten if the other is out shopping all day.
3. Sugar cereal is always better even if Rice Krispies make noise. Noise is not cooler than sugar.
4. One more good night kiss buys you 5 more minutes.
5. Sesame Street is still funny.
6. 35 is too old for pig tails.
7. Done with a smile, even pure naughtiness can be tolerated.
8. The best part about banks is the sucker.
9. Smelly stickers never get old.
10. Grilled cheese sandwiches and smiley face fries should be on the adult menu.
11. PJs should be worn all day once a week.
12. Stop eating when you are full.
13. Eat the best part first.
14. There is always room for ice cream because it melts in your stomach.
15. Play hard.
16. Sometimes it's best not to listen.
17. Cry if someone will listen. Suck it up if no one is there.
18. Run so fast you fall down in the grass.
19. Open the door like you mean it. Make an entrance.
20. Say I love you whenever in doubt.
21. Shove the cookie in your mouth as you run away with it. Don't wait to eat it.
22. Cat videos on YouTube are always funny.
23. Body parts that squirt are nature's toys.