It Aint Stand-Up, But I'll Take It

Yesterday evening was going quite well. I had managed to retrieve Youngest from choir bring her home, feed dinner to the masses and get both Youngest and Boy to a 4H meeting. All with a sick Baby at home which helped because I was not at work, but I am taking the credit anyway.Anyway, at the end of listening to a room full of 6-8 year-olds clogging their hearts out, I thought we needed a treat.

As I steered us into a local shake place, I called Teen to see what she wanted. At this point I had some stressful, frustrating news dumped upon me. No one in my home had done anything wrong, but my mood became a roiling mass of irritation. The kids, hearing my calls and sensing my mood sat quietly sipping their shakes when Boy suggested we needed some music to lighten the mood. 

"Music won't cure this mood," I informed him. Never willing to say die, Boy instantly made a very bad joke. With a grimace I informed him that wasn't a joke, it was horrible. So he pops out with, "Should we stop for Kentucky Fried Chicken? - No?"

"How about some California monkey?" Bad on so many levels, but I couldn't help it, I laughed. 

We proceeded to spend the rest of the ride trying to laugh while frowning. Impossible, just so you know. While this episode didn't cure the woes of having a foster-child with a hateful mother, it did go a long way toward easing some tension, and cementing my belief that Boy should not be a comedian.

Mini Bully, Mini Mimic

Having a verbal seven-year-old puts a parent in touch with many simple joys, but also gives a clear look into the dark-side of second grade. Which holds enough wrong-doing that Batman would have a difficult time keeping up with the perpetrators. 

Being the type-B mom that I am, I lend a sympathetic ear to the injustices. These include 3 kids holding the bathroom door so another child couldn't leave, the day-to-day cliques of who can sit where at lunch, and the more hurtful personal attacks and injuries. I keep an ear open for real atrocities, and how Youngest reacts to the jungle that is 2nd grade America as well as to how the teachers handle these situations. After hearing Youngest's view on "true friends" which went something like "they don't hurt you even if you don't agree with each other." and her affirmation that she had 2 "true friends" at school, I encouraged her to stick to her guns and avoid "the meanies." See in type-B land I don't have to rush to a conference or panic, there is no need. Yes, life is not all daisies, a fact I have known since elementary school myself, but she is handling it.

But still, you gotta wonder, what makes these girls think this behavior is okay. I do. Then I spent some time watching a certain kids cable station. Yes, I have seen these shows before, but today something clicked. A certain nanny was plotting against her charge to receive the affections of a guy. Typical stunts and hilarity ensued. But, then as one makes amends with another and it looks like a happy ending, in fact the other has taken the plotting public. Sadly this is nothing new. Since the days of Drake and Josh, another kid show, girls have been shown to be deviously plotting and bullying those around them. Is this seriously how we want to raise our future women, or current 2nd graders? 

I do not want to boycott the show, or genre for that matter. My kids watch it. I do point out issues I have with episodes while they are airing, much to the dissatisfaction of my kids. But it does beg the question: Are the "meanies" in 2nd grade really bullies, or simply mimicking what they are seeing daily?

Starting Over

Saying I'm back doesn't even begin to cover it. What I am really saying is "I'm starting over." That is how it feels. Much of my blog role is gone and I doubt previous readers will be flocking to me obligatory friends and family excepted. No long, wordy explanation for my absence. I have one word. Baby.

Delving back into parenting an infant has been exhilarating. But, dealing with the foster-care system has been exhausting. Now I feel like I am in a groove, or in enough need of some on-line support that I am making the time for me to vent er blog.

So, hello! Let me introduce myself. I am a mother, aunt/foster-mother, who firmly believes in type-B parenting and is being forced to live a type-A parenting situation.  My blog is largely focused on the adventures of raising a family in the modern world where children are walked or driven to play dates on their own blocks or placed in so many activities they need personal assistants to keep their schedules straight. And while I too believe in well-rounded kids, my methods are a bit more down-to-earth. If this sounds intriguing, welcome. And if you are a curious on-looker who wonders how my 3 children and 1 niece can possibly survive with this type of parenting, welcome!

The Joke is on Me

Have you ever felt as though you were actually the star of the movie The Truman Show? That your life was serving as some bizarre entertainment for mass audiences, but you were none the wiser? Yeah? Me too!

Before you go calling for the men with their white coats, let me explain...

There was the time I arrived at an interview at the wrong school, but they went ahead and interviewed me anyway...

Another time it was announced I won the best parking spot at work after my van broke-down on the way to work...

Ahh, the list could go on and on. But the most recent happened Sunday. After a busy Father's Day of visiting and grocery shopping - well we had to eat! - I remembered I really need to move cash into one of our accounts. Hubby said he would stay with a fussy Baby so off I went to run a 10 minute errand. At nearly the 30 minute mark Hubby was calling, I knew he was probably worried, but I couldn't take the call to offer any reassurance for fear I would be disconnected yet again....Who was I talking to? Well, the bank of course.

**flashback 25 minutes**

I pull beside the ATM, insert card, begin deposit...Machine does its thing, asks if the deposit amount is good and if I want to process it, I press complete deposit...Little whirling doohickey appears to indicate it is processing....Almost done then BAM everything goes black. My first thought was we have been invaded - just kidding, actually it was a string of four-letter words (a very long and emphatic string) The machine does not come back on...did I mention the deposit was cash?? Did you infer that it was important for the money to be in the bank since I left Hubby with a gassy baby on Father's Day?

So, after 2 calls to the number on the ATM machine, playing the push a button game twice, and one disconnected call I could not take Hubby's worried call because we all know I would have lost customer service person #2. I also refused to leave the ATM, which had rebooted and seemed fully functional - because it ate my money!! and my card! And all the while I was stealing peeks to see where those little cameras are hidden, because honestly it is comical - in some really ironic way...

Monday, I spoke with claims, and they are "researching" the problem....they better find my money!

Happy Father's Day

When it came time to think about a Father's Day post this year, it was a stuttering process. Should I begin with my own father who was an ever-present force of calm and caring? Should I be witty in sharing all of Hubby's qualities that make him the confidante of Teen, play-mate of Boy, occasional knight to Youngest's princess, and newly appointed surrogate caregiver to Baby?  My wonderful gift for writing not withstanding Nothing seemed to gel. 

Then, yesterday, the perfect blog presented itself in the actions of an adolescent Boy. 

Baby was fussy. There is no other way to put it. If she was ensconced in the arms of anyone she was calm and peaceful, but the minute she was set anywhere she would startle complete with arms flung to the sides and begin to fuss which irrevocably lead to crying. As a result, there was a cuddle fest taking place on the couch most of the evening. 

At some point, Boy appeared, having left whatever computer game he was captivated with at the time. Reaching out as if to take Baby, he offered a questioning look. "Do you want to hold her?" I asked. A nod and a glance to a cushion supported spot on the couch were the response. For the next thirty minutes, Boy cuddled, coo'd, and cared for Baby setting aside all adolescent pretense of being a guy too cool to care for babies. 

In this and his repeated attention Baby; his willingness to feed her, replace her binky umpteen times a day while remaining in good humor, or hold her while she is fussy Hubby's influence as a father is seen. And really what better testament to fatherhood is there?

Happy Father's Day to all the dads that are playmates, caregivers, confidantes, or otherwise engaged with their children. You are all cherished!

Verbal and Vivid

I had some friends over last week. After interacting with my kids for a bit, my friend laughing at something Boy said, commented "What do you expect, his mother is an English teacher." I am not sure that is the cause, but there are certainly some strange things said in this house.

Youngest's comments are often exclaimed, with fervor. 

Baby had been in our home for about a week, with little attention from Youngest it's hard to be dethroned she suddenly took an interest in this tiny, cuddly human. As I was dressing Baby, Youngest looked upon the scene and noted that Baby was "awfully fuzzy." I replied that babies certainly are, and Youngest could wash her hands then touch her. After appraising her dirt streaked hands that had spent the last hour hunting lizards and reaching into crevices among the bushes touching who knows what she looked to me and said, "Uh, I don't know her head has that smooshy spot. I freaks me out." 

On her birthday, Youngest chose to wear a summer dress she has had about a year. As we were driving to the movies, she was wondering aloud whether her friend would also like her dress. Youngest reassured herself that anyone would love this dress because, "It's a masterpiece! Look at the beautiful flowers. The person who made this fabric was an artist!" I must admit, it is a rather pretty dress. 

Boy has entered the witty stage. 

After hearing for the umpteenth time that the Mom of Baby has an allergy to cats, that she is quite certain without any basis she has passed to Baby, he jumped from his seat as I was using some spray in my cleaning yesterday. "Hold it, Mom! Be careful! The baby is allergic!" Ah, where does this sarcasm come from??

And Teen continues to take everything in, draw her conclusions, and argue with the best of them...We'll see if we can harness that talent and interest her in debate next year.

Introducing Baby "Seashore"

"Babies come when they come, and seldom when you are ready for them." Over the years I have heard, and even used, many variations of this sentiment. It seems to be quite true for most of the population, even planners like me. Out of three pregnancies, only one was a straight forward "we want this to happen at this time" and voila 40 weeks later ok 38 he was early we had Boy. 

Teen was a wonderful surprise and we were excited-read-everything-we-could- to-prepare, holy-crap-we-are gonna-be-parents blessing. (And we've done quite well so far)

Seven years ago yesterday Youngest blessed our lives. After trying like bunnies for months it seemed a no-go situation. We were sad, but adapted over time. Then just after Hubby was laid-off from his job...Here comes Youngest. Yeah, no stress there. Of course we were thrilled, but nervous. Hubby got a new job, life settled, and after my standard 38 weeks, our family was given the great gift of Youngest.

It seems that preparation and time to adapt are crucial when it comes to babies. So, a bit over two weeks ago I was frazzled. Today I am calm, worried, but calm. No, I am not expecting. Even the luxury of 30-something weeks is beyond me. Instead, Hubby and I have welcomed into our home and family a baby girl. 

We have been blessed with care of my niece, who we'll call Baby in this blog. It was sudden and it is sad. Baby had not been injured in any way by her parents, they are simply unable to care for her at this time due to personal and mental health issues. So with no warning, I left work early to "nest" for an hour before a state worker brought me a 2-week old baby girl. My mom brought necessities like bottles, bassinet, car seat, etc etc. Babies really require a ton of stuff. I don't know how long she'll stay, but I do know that she has won everyone's heart and love. We will do our best to give her everything she needs including stability and a family of love.