The Unforgivable Choice

Choices, we make them every day with immense ease. How do you take your coffee? What will you wear? Which kid will you wake first to start the day? What will you make for dinner? These are the easy ones. Then there are the hard ones. How and when do you explain death to your child? Do you tell a friend her husband is a jerk and is disrespectful of her? College fund for kids or retirement? But even these seem like cake when you are confronted with what feels like a lose-lose, simply unforgivable choice.

Choosing between your children. Maybe choice is the wrong word. Prioritizing among your children’s needs certainly may be more accurate (and definitely feels better to say it this way) but in the end if you are the kid who didn’t have the priority need than you simply were the one who wasn’t chosen.
It.Is.That.Simple.
To look into the little, needy face of one of your children who is pleading for your time and attention and turn away to another is so wrong, so unnatural, so painful and despicable feeling. It is just simply unforgivable.

Yet, in the face of this seemingly unforgivable choice what can we do? I spent months choosing between my kids. I was in the hospital, away from two of my kids caring for my third (both while in my body and out) for over two months. I was choosing to care for the one who it seemed needed me the most. I would talk on the phone daily to my other two and listen to their requests for me to come home, to hug me, to have me tuck them in. Over and over again I had to tell them no because I was keeping their baby sister safe. Sometimes that was an acceptable answer for them, they had other things to distract them and they said “okay mama” and went on about their day, other times they didn’t give a rats ass about this supposed baby they saw nothing of; they wanted needed their mother and mama was choosing another over them. 

I like to think that my children each being one of three will in time learn from occasionally being set aside for one another to be empathic, compassionate, generous and will grow a servants heart. I also want them to know they matter and even their smallest need is indeed important, because after all when you are five and need help finding the green hotweel with the red flames not getting it really could cause one to have “the worst life ever.” I like many a mothers have resorted to sharing the real tragedies of the world, the reality that some kids don’t have parents, food, homes, and terminal illness in an attempt to give them a little perspective. But is that really fair? Is it fair to say to a two year old who is asking to be rocked while the baby simultaneously needs to be nursed with some peace and quiet surrounding her, “Listen honey, I know you want mommy right know but you can’t have me. But take joy in the fact I will be with you in 20-30 minutes unlike some children in Africa whose mommies have died of AIDS”  Ok, an over-reaction perhaps, but “just a couple minutes honey” feels the same because even in this small moment I am choosing between my kids.

Enter emotionally overextended Mama. Because I tell one to wait at any given time, I ensure I make up for it later, so needless to say I spend my days running the circle of children attending to physical and emotional needs. Trying in vain to make each feel as important as they truly are to me; to make up for any lost moments we may have had. To remind each one of their uniqueness, their own special place in my heart and that yes, no matter what I have time and space for each of them.  But do I? On whose scale are we measuring, mine or the kids? Because I am sure they are different. Am I overestimating my own importance in their day to day life? Is having the need of a PB&J (NOW!) really about needing mom to care for them or just about getting something in their stomach and would sending them on their own to the fridge for a pre-packaged lunchable suffice?

Mi Prima often tells me I over-analyze, and that all these worries are mine, not the kids. I suppose she is right. To some degree I am creating my own worries and issues.

But when they are grown, will they know? Will they know that every day I CHOSE them, each of them?  Will they know that it is their spirits that keeps my heart beating? Will they know that every day I look deeply into their faces and see every glimmer, every question, every worry and I bury it in my own heart? Will they know that even when I had to choose one of their siblings that they still mattered more than they will ever know?

Perhaps not…until they are a parent themselves that is.
And it is I, not them I suppose, who has to learn to be okay with this.

My Children, My Teachers

Oh my beautiful Rock Star and Itty Bitty – you have filled me and challenged me so much this week!
I was greatly challenged to remember that your needs are ever evolving, you are growing and changing both physically and emotionally; you need room, permission, and love as you move through your new feelings and questions.

This week you have reminded me that you have the right to move and feel on your terms. I cannot and should not force you to think and feel anything. You reaffirmed the lesson that I must spend time being still and listening to you; to your cries, your laughter, your questions, your silence.

Rock Star, you ask something important of me this week. I have learned that when I make assumptions towards your actions, feelings and thoughts is hurtful to you. You want to be listened to, to be fully and deeply heard. I need to validate your words and ideas. When you are given the respect of a whole listener you are in turn able to be open in your mind and heart.

Itty Bitty, my ever-growing independent one. I have spent many hours lately trying to figure out where your feelings of (what appear to be) anger and frustration are coming from and I was pleased this week when your daddy and I became aware that you want your space. You want your hugs and kisses, to be picked up and held, to have your space shared by others to be on your terms. You are transitioning from a baby who is content to explore the world in the arms of another and now you want to be free, you want your space, room to watch, listen and feel.

I have had to look at some of my time this week and choose to realize they were not bad days but days in which there was much to learn; perhaps this alone was my greatest lesson. I must set anger and frustration aside and search for what is to be gained; to realize there is always someone, something that is trying to communicate with me. To accept this I must keep my spirit open and anger only closes me off.

Thank you my little teachers. Thank you for not only helping me be a better mother to you but a better human being. I love you without measure.

My Little Fighter

Last night after a very fun and active afternoon and evening I did something I hate doing. I yelled. I mean I really yelled. It was one of those over-the-top emotional, exhausted and extremely immature reactions to something small. It was the kind of reaction and behavior that leaves me feeling guilty, ashamed, regretful and fearful. The worst part is Rock Star was the recipient.

But here is the good part. I shouted and rather than cry, retreat, run away from me or any other reaction of defeat he went toe to toe with me. He shouted right back; he told me I was being mean and needed to stop shouting, he told me I was being rude. He told me he didn’t like me.

About this time the phone rang and caller ID said it was the hubs. I told Rock Star to go talk to his dad. We each spoke to daddy for a couple of minutes which was just long enough for us both to regain our composure. I immediately told Rock Star we needed to talk and I apologized for my behavior. I apologized for shouting, for losing my temper, for trying to make him feel bad. I told him I was tired and a little overwhelmed and I made a really bad choice in how to deal with it. He too apologized for shouting and saying mean things, he then started laughing and told me I was acting like I was “cookoo in my coconut” from here we both started laughing at ourselves, each other and our ridiculous behavior.

As I was reflecting back on this later that night, I realized how proud and happy I was he fought back. It was affirmation he has self-worth and he knows right from wrong, even when it is an adult. He knew my behavior and reaction was out of line and he was not about to be victimized by it. He was right, he didn’t like me right then – and he shouldn’t have. I didn’t like myself! It makes me feel confident that as he goes farther into the world without his daddy and I always there he will know he has the right to stick up for himself, to never let anyone take their anger or inappropriate behavior out on him. He knows he deserves kindness and respect.

Perhaps the title of this post is wrong. The truth is he is not a fighter, he is kind and loving. He is thoughtful and insightful and he is conscientious of the needs and feeling of others. But he is angered by injustice, by people being hurt or taken advantage of. I love that he is driven to fight for what is right, for what he and others need and deserve. I don’t just love this child, I respect and admire him.

Being of Service

My latest article in the The Pointe newspaper.

ONE

Ever have one of those parenting moments when you know you are making a huge mistake but you have that internal shrug and “eh” reaction? Me? Yeah, about three times a day.

I hear it first. Silence followed by “the” giggle-times two. The naughty laughter is then followed by the patter of fast sneaking little feet running from one spot to the last no doubt toting something that should not be touched. I know what is happening: messes are being made, things are being shoved into the toilet, lotion bottles are being emptied, diaper cream is being smeared head-to-toe, markers have been discovered, food is being taken on the carpet, clothes are being stripped off (yes, my kids LOVE to streak), I know there is all around no-good shenanigans happening and yet I choose to ignore. I know my work will be doubled (at least) when I finally am forced to deal with it, I know something will probably get wrecked, I know I will be questioned by the hubs as to how “this” happened and yet I still ignore.

Why? What is wrong with me?
Am I lazy or just desperate for 5 minutes without a little person up my ass?

Last night I was up battling nausea and went into the downstairs guest bath, well I tried. I couldn’t quite open the door. Not a good sign. When I finally wiggled my way in I was faced with the harsh reality of my choice to ignore the naughty; I suddenly remembered a phone call earlier that afternoon when I knew they were in the bathroom but I chose to score a few minutes of uninterrupted talk and clearly forgot to go survey the damage after my call. As I stood in a sea of clothes, hangers, shoes, toys, cookies, a half eaten apple, a few DVD’s, books, diapers (clean, thank God), and of course the signature full roll of toilet paper soaking in the toilet I wanted to cry. I felt so guilty for being a lazy mom.

Then I realized it was 3am and I was cleaning a bathroom. Lazy my ass.
There are two of them. They work at warp speed. They are super-human. There is only one of me.

ME ONE.
THEM MAAANY.

I am simply outnumbered.

Your Mothering Heart Has a Home

To My Lovely and Dear Friend,

A while ago I wrote this, actually it really wasn’t that long ago. I was feeling, as you can tell alone in the world of parenting, both for my choices and for the needs of my children. I reached out to a few moms whose parenting styles I admired. They were kind and loving mothers whose patience seemed endless. I cried and I shared my struggles and fears; there words and support were comforting and in the end I pulled my children close to me and the hubs and I agreed to keep them protected within us a bit longer.

Never forget, your child was given to YOU for a reason, because you are the mother they need. You have the intelligence, heart and spirit to care for, love, protect and raise your child with what they need. Other parents with their philosophies are not raising your child – because their way is not what your child needs. You were called to raise your child; this was not a whimsical decision on Gods part. Be faithful to this calling, even in the face of others who wish to question and belittle your work.

After my own journey into “lonely parenting” and making the commitment that I would do what was right for my children even if it meant I had no friends in the process, I suddenly found myself surrounded by mothers who are raising children like mine. Children who suffer from anxiety when separated too early from home and the comfort and reassurance of Mama and Daddy, who are their best selves when they are given freedom of choice and expression and who always, always want to know we are here whenever they call for us. I could make choices that would make parenting easier. I could kick my kids out of our bed, I could insist they go to off to toddlerville pre-pre-education to learn to be socialized like puppies and I could tell them what they will do and when verses living a child-led lifestyle, but hey, then my kids would just be manufactured mini me’s and I like my kids too much to completely alter their spirits.

How are our children supposed to be amazing if we never let them BE amazing? And let’s not forget, becoming a truly amazing grown-up comes with some growing pains (you know, the loud, scary, needy, rambunctious, fit-throwing, co-sleeping, endless question asking, negotiating every rule in the book kind of pains!)

Welcome to the fold my friend.

I Love My Hubs

I am not sure I say this enough in general, but I love my hubs. He is an outstanding man in many ways. One of which is he allows me to be me; this can be difficult because I change my ideas, thoughts, and activities often. I am hard to keep up with to say the least. One of the major changes I have made in recent months is my opinions on sleep sharing (or the “Family Bed”). When Rock Star was born he was of course in our room the first several weeks but by three months he was sleeping soundly all night and had been transitioned into his own room without any issues. This lasted until he was three and got the boot out of the crib because his baby sister was on her way. Prior to this he slept peacefully every night and seemed to simple love his crib. We would rock him each night, but about the time he was drifting off he would reach for his crib and enjoyed snuggling in. Enter Itty Bitty.
From the first moments of entering the world Itty Bitty wanted to curl up into my neck. She would inhale my scent deeply and fall into a nice deep sleep. She has never been fond of sleeping alone. At this same time we were still in transition mode of getting Rock Star out of the crib (and nursery) and into his Big Boy Bed/Room. He was not going for it. On a few desperate occasions we would allow him back into the crib and he would smile and fall asleep. He loved the security of that special place.
Forward 16 months…
New family home, new bedrooms and beds, resulting in two kids in Mama and Daddy-O’s bed every night. So I started researching the pro’s and con’s on sharing sleep with your kids and found the benefits to your children to be overwhelming. And once again Mama began changing the way things happen around here. Bedtime has become less about getting the kids off to sleep so we can enjoy our evening and more about offering a peaceful and reassuring end to our kids day which often means lots of snuggling, reading, music and laying with our kids as they fall asleep (i.e. time). I have had to stop looking at this as a “process” and just part of our life, like all the other parenting things we do. Our children sleep wonderfully when they are with us. I sleep better knowing they feel safe and secure and when they are next to us in a deep slumber my heart busts wide open. However, the hubs is now two little bodies away from me at night, and is often shoved to the far 6 (6 ½ on a good night) inches of the bed. He is not sleeping so well. Last night I enjoyed having Rock Star sleep with his head on my belly most of the night, not thinking that this meant his feet were shoved into the ribcage of the hubs. Ouch. Itty Bitty likes to lay on Daddy’s head and hold his nose like a handle (while me she just curls up against my chest). Yep, no doubt about it, Daddy is getting the raw deal here. Not to mention after a restless night for parents I get to hang out in PJ’s watching movies, reading and doing puzzles while he is up, showered, dressed and off to the office where he has to be a grown-up. ugh.

So, My Dear Hubs,
I thank you for being the kind of father to our kids, and partner to me, that makes so many sacrifices for the well being of our family. I know you give up a great many things for us, the least of which is sleep and much chick-a-bow-bow with me. I know we are raising wonderful, loving, secure children and all the time and energy we are giving them know, no matter how tired we are, is in their best interest and what we are called to do. Thank you for being my partner, support and greatest love while on this journey of parenthood.
I love you deeply, unconditionally and forever,
A.

One Step Closer to Nature

I am trying. One little step at a time I am trying to bring my family closer to nature through the food we eat, the items we use, how we consume and through an ever growing appreciation and care for the world around us. A couple of weeks ago I began making homemade diaper wipes (better for baby, cheaper, and reduces the purchasing of plastics and chemicals). I have been really happy with them. I feel better using them to clean up the kid’s faces and find them far more durable and skin friendly. So, my next big step is moving to cloth diapering. Itty Bitty is super-duper interested in the potty and although she has yet to go on it, she sits on it regularly. Although, I do not think she is ready and I will forgo any formal potty training processes for a bit longer, I thought the feel of cloth diapering may help some. I had planned to cloth diaper with any future babes we may be blessed with, so starting with my 15 month old is a rather new idea. But, I figured better late than never and given we go through about 7 diapers a day and she will be in them for at least another three months, I figure we can still save the landfills roughly 630 diapers (not to mention about $300). Not bad. Well, a step anyway.
So today is the first day. I used to change the cloth diapers of my many cousins when I was young and used to sit for them, so I am familiar with the cleaning and handling process and am not worried about it. I am actually really excited. The only down side is I suspect I will have a pinch of trouble getting the hubs on board, he will no doubt be worried about the whole “pin (i.e. sharp object) near the baby” thing, so I may be the primary (okay, only) diaper changer in the house. Eh, he can take over all the butt wiping for Rock Star.

For the love of PJ's!

The holiday’s always bring many great snuggly things for our family but one of my favorites spending days on end in our PJ’s. This year brought a few extra days because of the snow. It just seems so natural to stay cozy in jammies all day when we are snuggled in with a fire and heaps of snow outside.

But, par for the course for me, I always seem to indulge in a good thing just a bit too much. Last night I needed to do some shopping, so off to the store I trudged. With Rock Star in tow. In his PJ’s. Yes, you heard me right, no need to go back and read again, I let him wear his Thomas the Train Christmas flannel PJ’s to the store. They looked extra special with his snow boots. I found this hilarious because a child out in public in their PJ’s is one of those pre-kids “I will never!” statements I used to make. Today is about 4˚ outside so there is of course again no real need to get dressed. I did offer Rock Star some clothes but he replied, “No thanks. I prefer to just wear my jammies all day.” I had a twinge of guilt and then I thought, life should be enjoyed…why not enjoy the cozy PJ’s while you can. I am also enjoying the added bonus of less laundry.

Meeting the Need

Perhaps it is the sugar, the change in sleep habits and just the energy of the holiday excitement but my kiddos are out of whack the last several days. I am too I suppose, we have been nestled in the house for several days watching snow and playing games – which is wonderful but it hasn’t exactly allowed for any energy release. So here we are not quite through the holiday season and we are all a bit antsy and irritable. So today we are working to rebalance our home. Hubs went to the office, I am cleaning and doing laundry, the kids are snacking on healthful foods, playing with toys and napping, and of course the TV and radio are off.


Yet, even as I work to get our energy aligned again I am still hearing loads of whining and fussing and find myself getting irritated and in my head saying (ok, yelling), “WHAT!? What is it!??” While the kids were napping I was reading up on Nonviolent Communication and was reminded that as humans (and especially in children) everything one expresses is in search of having a need met. It may be something basic like food, rest or exercise or something deeper like attention, validation, praise, direction, reassurance…you get the idea. I had to remind myself that my children (although bright as can be and excellent little communicators) still struggle to share their needs. In part because it is often difficult for them to even know what exactly it is that is bothering them, let alone what they need to make them feel better. A child of four cannot express feelings of hyper-anxiety from too much sugar and not enough rest; they simply act out with undesirable behavior. I am reminded that it is my job as mother to not just listen, but to feel the needs of my kids. By paying attention to their rhythms and responses I have the ability and the duty to respond to their needs. Some days it feels a little like a long process of elimination to get to the “Ah! That’s what you needed!” moment, but it is always worth it when I do.

I think because children come with such obvious noise and chatter it gets a easy at times to shut the noise out; to ignore the cries and the pleas (and the arguing!) but all that type of parenting seems to lead to is a wrecked kid and an angry parent (typically both shouting), never any good for anyone.

I wish I were more patient and calm than I am. I must remember my journey of motherhood is just that, a journey. I worry about my parenting mistakes but am also amazed at the resiliency, forgiveness and desire for love and peace that is always present between my children and I. For this, I am grateful.

Did you win?

For those of you who bet against me that I would not actually return the shit toys from target, you win.

Damn. It.

Toys Suck.

Warning: You are about to read lots of naughty words. Sorry Grandma.


So the hubs and I went to Target today to buy gifts for the kids. I am pretty restrictive when it comes to birthday and holiday gift giving where my family is concerned. As a family we are aggressively working to be more consumption conscious while teaching our children happiness, joy and entertainment do not need to come from things. That being said, we buy our children three gifts for Christmas: one small item for their stocking (plus fruit and nuts), one gift from us and one from Santa. The hubs and I no longer exchange gifts and I have a rule that you only get a gift from our family if we are celebrating together, I do not ship stuff. I will however send homemade gifts of the heart. So my point is…we have very little shopping to do. One quick trip to Target and we are done.

Well, I say Target but what I really mean is the mother-fucking toy shithole of the world. I wanted to get the kids some gentle quiet toys that would allow them to use their imaginations and not be reliant on batteries, lights and noise. No such fucking luck. Nothing. Nothing at all. I could not find anything that did not talk, light-up, blink, sing, or generally rot the small brains it is intended to entertain. Shit.

December 22 and I am a bust. Hmm…could this be the year we give up Santa and tell the kids our family gift will be a day of board games together??? Here I walk the thin line between beautiful, wholesome mommy who will broaden the minds of my children and mommy the crazy bitch who robs my babies of Christmas to serve my own belief system. Damn. Buy toys I must.

I caved, somewhat.

1. Sleds – actually happy with this one given we are supposed to be getting nailed with a snowstorm Christmas Eve.
2. Little People figurines and Schoolhouse – unfortunately plastic. Here love, have a little C-A-N-C-E-R with that toy…
3. Lightening McQueen GeoTrax System. Gag. Loud, batteries required and I guarantee you it will lose it’s luster within 3 days.

Not happy. Toys suck. I have already started knitting next year’s gifts.

UPDATE:

I wrote the above last night then forgot to post it. Today I went to Pottery Barn for Kids and was able to score some wonderful wooden toys for the Rock Star (a HUGE Pirate Ship with figurines) and a barn made of corduroy with fabric animals for Itty Bitty. Sigh. Feeling much better.

BTW – the other shit is getting returned.

Confessions of an OPM

Hello. My name is Amy and I am an Over-Protective Mama (otherwise known as OPM). I also will introduce you to the hubs, who is an OPD (yes that would be Over-Protective Daddy). We fully acknowledge this, and for the record have no plans to change.

When Rock Star was just a baby and we found ourselves falling in sync with the rhythm of his spirit, his needs, likes and dislikes and like all new parents, were receiving gobs and gobs of advice. We made the decision to live by the philosophy “if it works for our family, then we do it.” At the time we had a wonderful pediatrician who fully supported this practice and often told us, “You are the expert on your child. Trust your instinct and do what you know your baby needs.” Her support and encouragement to be the parents our child needed, not the parents others thought we should be was more of a gift than we could have hoped for.

Our Rock Star is now four and Itty Bitty twelve months and we still practice this philosophy. We know what our children need. Their needs can vary daily, even hourly. Some nights we have little ones who need us to rock them to sleep or need to sleep with us. Some mornings they need an hour or so of snuggling and reading and others they want breakfast and to be on the go within seconds. Some days there is an increased need for hugs and closeness and others they are brave little beings venturing out exploring new territory. But regardless of what it is they need, my job is to be present for them. Whether it is to scoop them up in my arms or to watch over them from a distance, Mama is there.

As Rock Star gets older I am surprised at how many people find it odd, or even detrimental to his development, that I remain near and available to him. I am not a believer in shoving my kids off in to the world with the expectation that they will learn how the world works. I am an educated, capable, grown woman and I often find the world to be harsh and confusing. Why would I expect my child to go it alone? Here are the common questions/statements (actually they are often more like accusations) I get about being an OPM:

You can’t always rush in to save your kids.
OPM Response: Watch me.

How will they learn to deal with things if you are always around?
OPM Response: First, there are other ways to learn than from fear and failure. Second, is it not the inherent job of a parent to be the one to teach and guide? I choose to use example. My kids can’t see my example if I am not around.

Your kids will never want to leave you.
OPM Response: If I am lucky.

You will raise needy and dependent kids.
OPM Response: No, I am raising children who know they can depend upon, trust, and take comfort in their parents. This will give them confidence and reassurance to explore and venture out into their world because they know Daddy and Mama are always here to come back to if needed.

There are enough lessons the world will teach my kids by the sheer nature of life. They will no doubt be hurt, confused, and frustrated over the years. I figure why not alleviate what I can? Contrary to what some think, my children do not live in a bubble (but that is only because I have yet to find one on eBay), they are out there living and learning but they are, and always will be, doing it with Mama lurking nearby just in case they need me.

For those of you who read my editorials in the Pointe, sorry for the duplicate. I am tired and busy!

A Lonely, but Happy Place to Parent

I am a believer. I believe in the power of the Mama Gut. I have mentally and emotionally believed in it always, conceptually anyway. But the last few weeks I have been challenged to put my trust and belief system into action. It is more difficult than I had imagined.
When your children are babies you get away with being viewed as overprotective. People expect it, find it silly and cute. They snicker and say that you will outgrow it soon and certainly by baby number two. To some degree this may be true, but I also think we give up on our mommy gut and intuition all too soon. I for one have found I have allowed myself to be overly influenced into the idea that my children need to be shoved out into the world in order to be socialized. Unfortunately being socialized apparently also means being afraid, intimidated and insecure. My kids are young, really young. Too young to be forced into feeling afraid about being away from Mama for sure. I believe children need require constant reassurance in the care and protection of their parents for as long as they need it; not for as long as we think they need it. It is easy parenting to tell yourself that your kids need to be socialized and therefore shoved out into the world away from you. It is easy to tell yourself that your kids benefit from a babysitter while you go out and recharge your batteries. It is hard to make the choice to remain available to the emotional and physical needs of your children 24/7. But interestingly enough, I am finding it is more difficult dealing with the judgment of others on this type of parenting that it is to actually practice it.

I have consistently found that in the quiet of our home, gentle parenting works wonderful with our children. None of us feel good, benefit or have lasting effects with harsh, domineering parenting. My kids respond to hugs and time-ins far more than shouting and time-outs. I find a time-out to say, “You were bad, made a bad choice and therefore I do not want you near me. Go away.” Now here is the thing. Yes, I understand that in “real life” peers and other adults may have this reaction to my kids. Anyone of us in the course of decision making run the risk of making a choice that others do not like and therefore will choose to not be in your company. That is a natural consequence. I as a parent do not need to turn my back on my child in order for them to learn this life lesson. Rather, I need to give them an example of gentle, loving care; of treating others with kindness and respect.

I find the concept that the world is a harsh place with people who will be displeased with you if you do not -fill in the blank- to be the wrong focus from which to make our parenting choices. To “train” our children to live and survive in a harsh world rather than give them the love and security they need to enter into it believing they can be kind and generous and make a difference (rather than have the skills to look out for number one) is the approach I wish to take. And let me say, it is not a popular one. Parenting this way means keeping your children close at all times. Letting them have access to you whenever they need it (yes this means at night and during your favorite TV show and phone calls), giving hugs and reassurance rather than punishment, and most importantly being in sync with your child to know what they are feeling so you can deal with the issue they are often unable to communicate. Children are not born manipulative so the idea of spoiling your children with your love, reassurance and attention is nuts in my opinion. We teach children to be manipulative by withholding what they need until they do what we want.

Research has proven that children who are the recipients of Attachment Parenting are more secure, outgoing and confident than those who are not. To read more on this from an actual expert, see what Dr. Sears has to say. You can also read more about Attachment Parenting here.

I Shalt Never...Well, Maybe Just This One Thing

I love to laugh at myself when I think of all the "My Children Will Never" comments I made before having them. I had quite a list:


My kids will never...
1. Eat at McDonalds before they are five
2. Watch TV before 4pm
3. Get away with a temper tantrum in public
4. Force me to bribe them with candy or toys
5. Regularly sleep with us simply because they want to (excluding illness or the unique kid stuff)

I could go on but I would start to get a Mommy complex.
I was reminded harshly of number 2 on my list this week when, while moving, we were without cable. I have had glamorous thoughts over the last year and have told mi prima I am pulling the TV plug about twice a month. I really, really planned to not order it when we move to the new house. But then....

well....lets just say I was humbled. I was also freaking tired! When Cable Guy finally plugged us in yesterday my actual words were; "Ah! Dora, my sweet little parenting partner! I have missed you!" I then looked at Rock Star and Itty Bitty and there they sat, like two little coma patients (with their eyes open) starring glazy eyed at the TV as if they had just walked out of The Little House on the Prairie having never seen the magic box before. And then it was given to me, as if it were a gift from above: Quiet. Stillness. Time.

Exhale....

Rock Star genuinely believes I have Super Powers. Oh little does he know I get them from the Spout PBS gods.

To The Overly Opinionated:

I have a few bones to pick with you. I will spread them out over time to avoid sounding like a crazy angry woman, which I am not. Here we go…

Average Idiot: “Would she like a sticker?”
Me: “She is a four year old boy who can speak. Ask HIM yourself dumbass.” (okay I really don’t use the word dumbass in public and never swear at stranger, I save the lashing out for the protective covering of the blog world)

So the Rock Star has long hair. He is very attached to his hair, and even though it is often well below his shoulders and ears, he still looks like a boy.

Now we are not talking Celine Dion’s sons longs hair

More Like Gwyneth Paltrow’s son

Very cool if you ask me. Now in addition to this cool hair the Rock Star also has his “uniform” of cargo jeans or shorts, and one of two types of shirts. Graphic rock tees (currently the fav’s are Rolling Stones, AC/DC and a custom made Rock Star tee) or a Kansas Jayhawk tee or jersey. That plus the fact he is always toting at least one hotwheel in his hand, I have to question exactly how stupid you have to be to think he is a girl. Pretty stupid if you ask me. Therefore I have come to the conclusion that if you make an obvious “girl” statement about my son you are not confused but trying to make a point that you think his hair is too long.

Let me be clear. I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOUR OPINION IS ON MY CHILDS HAIR STYLE. He likes it, he loves it actually, when ask if he wants to cut it he tells us, “No, it is my hair and I want to keep it.’ Well, there you have it. So please, shut-up. Zip it. Move on. We are happy living in the land of tangle free shampoo and long, thick curls.

The Loving Aunt

Just to clear up any confusion...and to keep me welcome at future family gatherings:
The Loving Aunt LOVES my kids. I have no doubt how adorable and funny she thinks they are and she showers them with WAAAY to many gifts. The Uncle has the bill to prove it.

But no matter what she says, she does think I am a big, fat softy where my kids are concerned. And she is right.