The Meanest Mom

A technological wizard I am not. My husband, the techie a.k.a. computer nerd, does not understand my inability to comprehend technological advanced gadgets-they make me crazy with all the buttons, options and manuals. My husband bought me an iphone with the hopes I would learn how to use the calendar, address book and notepad so I would no longer overflow the desk with my unnecessary books, papers and pens, but (after a small war, which I won), I have refused to turn to the dark side and trust a technological device with my precious information. I have the same trust issues with the hard drive? and photographs, even trusting some little device on the computer to hold these memories of my children concerns me so I print off every single picture and label the back with the name, date, place and age of child (this may be an obsessive compulsive behavior, but it's my only one so I think it's o.k.) and store them all in photo books arranged by the year-in my defense this obsession only occurred after a computer glitch erased an entire year of our lives in photographs. I also have an ipod that has me completely confused, it plays music but how does the music get on there? And my gift card from my sweet husband for itunes that I will never figure out. Crazy, right? While the rest of the world leaves it up to the computers, I trust paper calendars, CDs, and photo albums that I can pull off the shelves and touch with my bare hands.

Yesterday my oldest made a wish list for his upcoming 8th Birthday (in a week), but all he can talk about is a DSI. I have (or had) no idea what this was or what this meant until today. Spencer tells me that ALL of his friends have one, he is the only one without. I've listened to the begging and pleading since Christmas so today I went to the toy store and browsed the electronics section repeating DSI over and over in my head. So many gadgets, so much confusion. I finally, and reluctantly, walked over to a salesperson and asked what a DSI was. I know that Moms should know this stuff, but I do not. He was very sweet and lead me over to a glass case full of confusing computer looking devices that I would never understand. As he points to the "cheap and older version" DSIs he tells me that they are only $150. I tried not to look completely bewildered at the price alone, but foolishly asked him what type of phone this was? He looked at me as if I just asked him what planet he was from and he laughs a little, "Maam, this just plays games, but this one (pointing to the newer model) plays games, takes pictures, is 3D and plays MP4 music" (and is $170-games not included-which he forgot to add). I told him to slow it down, he was talking WAY over my head and what the heck is an MP4? "Well it's like an MP3, but it's a little different." Clearly I wasn't going to understand the meaning of an MP3 or 4 so I shrugged my shoulders and he took me over to try one out.

"It's basically a handheld video game, right? and you sell a lot of these to parents buying for 8 year olds?", I asked. (I was trying to prove Spencer wrong). He told me parents are buying them for kids as young as 5 and the average age is 6, 7 & 8 year olds, but we had to watch out for the 3D version because it had a chance of ruining my child's vision.

HMMM, let me think about this. An insanely expensive handheld video game that my (soon to be) 8 year old will play whenever and wherever he wants (will I ever see him again or will he hide away in video game land for the rest of his childhood?) and as an added bonus, it may ruin his eyes. I think NO! Yes, I'm the meanest Mom ever because I have denied my almost 8 year old the video game contraption that all of his friends have because their parents are cool and understand technology and, obviously, have money growing on trees. I'm the meanest Mom because I don't want him addicted to video games and I want him to explore other interests. I'm the meanest Mom because I Love Him and I don't think this is a good option for our family right now. In about 2 hours I will break the news that he won't be getting a DSI this year and in about 2 hours I will cause my son heartbreak and tears because I'm the Meanest Mom!

An Ordinary Girl

From the time I was little I believed I was destined for greatness. I used to belt Annie showtunes out the open car window with the hopes that some broadway producer (in St. Louis, MO, of all places) would hunt me down and offer me the lead role. I performed on cue for whoever, whenever and wherever-my dad even stood in line with me (and a thousand other little girls) for hours to audition for Sleeping Beauty at the Muny. Although my tap dancing was a little rusty, I could still sing. Little did I know the first audition was tap and I stood there like a deer in headlights. Two hours in line, 2 seconds on stage in front of thousands and I was cut-didn't even get to sing the song I had rehearsed over and over and over from the night before. I didn't give up, I continued to sing on stage for every talent show and at every one of my Dad's band gigs I attended. Obviously it didn't pan out, in fact, over time I learned to loathe the stage (and I still do-if it has anything to do with singing). As I mentioned before here, I left the stage for modeling, which also didn't pan out. I began to realize I was an ordinary girl, not meant for anything too extraordinary- never the prettiest, the smartest or the most talented- just plain and ordinary, but, over time, I became happy with my plain and ordinary qualities and embraced them.

Recently a "friend" referred to my home as ordinary and literally told me it was nothing spectacular. Almost out of nowhere, as if they were trying to insult me! I didn't know my home was supposed to be something special, I wasn't aware that my ordinary home was even offensive- are we still, as adults, competing for the title of "BEST"? I thought this was something left behind in childhood or at least high school. This perplexed me for weeks. I live a very ordinary life, in a very ordinary home with a very ordinary family and I'm happy. In my entire adulthood I never questioned my happiness or thought of myself as anything less, until that conversation.

There are obviously moments in my life where I wish we could have more, be more, do more and even moments of jealousy when I realize that something is so out of my grasp or realm of reality or possibility, but, overall, I realize that there are people who look at my ordinary life and wish for what I have. I don't take my ordinary life for granted, I know I'm blessed and I'm ashamed of myself for the times when I long for more-but I guess that's also a part of human nature. We are a competitive bunch, especially the women. We walk into a room and size one another up from head to toe (don't deny it, you know you've done it). From the style and brand of clothing, to the hair/make-up/weight/height, we size each other up and compare to ourselves. I commend Men on their honesty, sometimes brutal honesty (while we occasionally put them down for it), but we are the cattiest cats of them all, we are the backstabbers and gossipers and for a life I thought I left behind a LONG time ago, I bow out. I can't compete with the most luxurious home, the fanciest clothes (still wearing clothes from college-the clothes that fit anyways), the most intelligent or polite kids, the wealthiest lifestyle, the best body (3 kids did me in) or the most ambitious (today I aim at getting the whites laundered and folded-that's my ambition for today). I have come to realize that I will never be the best at anything because there will always be someone better (and someone who wants to take me out if I even tried). So I give in. I'm an ordinary girl, nothing more, nothing less. But living an ordinary life is more extraordinary than I ever dreamed-and no one can compete with that.

Kid-Friendly

Last night we were out to dinner with some good friends of ours who also happen to have 3 kids. As parents of 3 kids we're not typically rattled by loud shrieking, boys wrestling under the table, crying children who don't want to eat and the throwing of plates and/or silverware-it's an every night affair. But last night, for the first time ever, the manager of a restaurant approached our table and told us he was "getting complaints from other customers" and asked if we could quiet our children, we're talking about 5 little boys and a toddler, so the answer is obviously No, but we said o.k. and smirked. I looked around the restaurant to see who the culprit was and saw a sneaky lady in the bar peeking her head over the seats and counting our kids out loud to her husband/boyfriend/annoying customer who complained to the manager. Our kids weren't misbehaving, they were just being kids and kids are naturally loud! I told my boys to quiet down, but as they talked to their friends they quickly became engrossed and excited in their conversation leading to...well, loudness. While I am quick to correct my children when they are out of hand, rude, misbehaving or harmful to others, I'm also lenient when my kids are just being kids and having fun. The restaurant was full of kids and even a sign on the door had an inviting "kids eat free on Wednesdays" sign. It was a kid-friendly restaurant! As some restaurants are beginning to ban children (which I totally understand in the fancy, pricey, date night type restaurants), some people need to learn tolerance for others with children in child-friendly establishments. What you have to endure for 20 minutes of your day, we SAHMs endure ALL DAY LONG! It's not a matter of discipline, it's not a matter of teaching children respect and manners, it's just the way kids are. My favorite example of teaching rude people to have a little tolerance occurred when we dared to dine out with a 3 year old and a newborn a few years ago, customers were actually asking to be moved away from our table (as they still often do now, especially since we have 3 kids). As everyone began to stare at my screaming child, who I was doing everything I could think of to quiet (baby Coen) down, I pulled out my boob (at the table) and nursed. Oh the horror! If you can't stand the crying baby, you better prepare yourself for what comes next. The baby was quiet, but the staring became angry glares. My husband is one of those people who allow the negative attention to get to him, he used to run out of the restaurants with whichever child was throwing a temper tantrum to avoid the stares but as time has gone on, he's learned to (sometimes) let it roll off his shoulders. Every time I hear a baby cry in a restaurant I feel extreme sympathy for those parents, I know, I've been there and I realize how overwhelmed they are while the unsympathetic people are complaining and daring them with their evil eye to stay. The ironic thing is while my children are hushed by the adults who are intolerant of children, I'm forced to deal with the adults who use profanity, smoke, display anger, violence and drunken foolishness in front of my children in public. No one asks them to watch their mouth, no one asks them to put their cigarette out or control themselves, adults are allowed to make complete fools of themselves in public (while I have to undo the damage they have caused by using their bad examples as lessons in inappropriate behavior)- although my children will someday learn and display appropriate restaurant behavior, there is little hope for the adults (usually the complaining adults) to learn considerate, respectful and sympathetic behavior of others with children. Perhaps our kids aren't the the only ones who have some growing up to do!

It's How You Play the Game

You've heard the expression-It doesn't matter if you win or lose, it's how you play the game, right? If this is true then my 4 year old, Coen, deserves an Academy Award for his performance on the soccer field (and the T-ball field for that matter).

When my oldest, Spencer, was 10 months old we had him enrolled in gymnastics class at the Little Gym, from that point on he has always been involved in some type of physical activity of either Gymnastics, Swimming, Tae Kwon Do, Soccer or Baseball-we want him to find his niche and decide for himself what he feels most comfortable with and what he loves to do. Coming from a mixed family of Baseball and Soccer lovers he has played both and wrestled with the decision of which one to stick with. Unfortunately Spencer has reached the age where the practices and games of both sports begin to interfere so he had to choose his favorite this year and, it came as no surprise, he chose Baseball. Regardless of the sport though, Spencer has always played hard and worked hard to excel at everything he has tried, even if his heart wasn't fully into it. With that said, let me be clear, I'm not a competitive Mom-I don't care if my kids play sports or not, I just want them to find an interest or hobby that makes them happy and Spencer has found many.

We have given Coen the same opportunities as Spencer to try whatever it is that he wants to try, but I'm beginning to notice a pattern with Coen that isn't necessarily a bad pattern, but he plays a bit differently than Spencer ever did. Coen doesn't play to win, he honestly doesn't care if the other team scores, at the end of the game he makes up a score and tells me he won regardless-I don't argue. Coen is the comic relief on the field, he even has the parents of other kids on the field watching him, and he literally plays the game to have fun, that's it, there's not a competitive bone in his body while on that field and I LOVE watching him play. While the other kids are fighting it out for the ball, Coen is spinning in circles, dancing, singing to himself, talking to the ref, climbing the goal post, having conversations with the kids on the sidelines or running in circles around the field-just because. He is always laughing, has the biggest smile on his face and waves at me about every 5 minutes to make sure I'm watching him "play". After every game I tell him how proud I am and that he was the best one out there-and I mean it!

While I love watching Spencer play to win, work so hard, practice so hard and cheer him on at every game, I know if Spencer doesn't win or play well it upsets him and that upsets me. Coen, on the other hand, is a breath of fresh air. While the men in our family, who shall remain nameless, are a bit more competitive and wish Coen would commit more, his antics have my Mom and I laughing until we cry. There's a game going on, yet Coen steals the whole show and the attention of everyone, even the coaches. He's in a world of his own and that's one of the things I love about him so much. He doesn't care what anyone thinks, he doesn't care who wins or loses and at the end of every season when he receives his trophy (for T-ball) and medal (for soccer), he couldn't be prouder of himself and his achievement. While I understand that games are played to be won, I also think a game is just a game. It didn't matter tonight who won or lost for Coen, what mattered was how he played the game and, in my opinion, he played it splendidly!

A Moment of Clarity Through Tragedy

Today my husband and I (and his extended family) spent the day mourning, remembering and consoling one another over the loss of a member of my husband's family, a person "taken too soon" as many have said. He was only 29, no one knows the cause yet or the reason and even if we did, that wouldn't ease the pain or make the fact that he was gone any different. I wasn't even going to blog on the topic of his death at all, it wasn't in my plans, until today. Today I met his fiance for the first time and she immediately captured my heart. Her pain is so raw, honest and heartbreaking-as was and is the pain his parents are suffering-it's beyond my comprehension. I put myself in their situations, for just a moment, and the pain was so intolerable that I took myself out. I can't imagine that kind of suffering or loss, nor do I ever hope to.

They were planning on a Spring or Summer wedding (something small, with a big reception), they were planning their future together and a family life- he had been talking about having kids as soon as possible (she had confessed, he was really looking forward to being a dad someday) and they had recently moved into a home together. But what I remember most about my conversation with his fiance is she told me she never had a doubt about his love for her because he told her all the time. The day he passed away he called her multiple times (just hours before he suddenly died), he finally got a hold of her and simply told her with his last words to her, "I just wanted to tell you that I Love You!".

She told me that after a health scare he suffered through years ago, he began to live every day as though it was his last, his priorities changed, nothing was taken for granted and he was never shy about telling those he loved how he felt about them. She told me if there was anything she wanted anyone to take away from her fiance's death it was to live our lives the way that he did, to the fullest!

These words she spoke hit home and even stung a little. I have not lived this way (except with my kids). How much time have I taken for granted and how rarely have I uttered the words "I Love You" to people I do love every time I see them, because, in my mind, I believe I will see them again? I admitted to her that I had not lived this way, it almost seems awkward to me or too revealing, but I wish I could. I wish I had the courage to live every moment as if it were my last, to hug my friends with more than a simple pat, but a real bear hug. I wish I had the courage to call my family and my closest friends and tell them wholeheartedly, "I Love You and appreciate you" because that's how I truly feel. Today, after talking to his fiance and his family, I realized that as much pain as they were feeling because of his loss, they were at peace with the knowledge that he truly loved them and that he knew he was loved in return-there were no doubts. Every moment of his life, even up until the last moment, he lived with his heart on his sleeve and I have learned, unfortunately through tragedy, that life is unpredictable-it may be a challenge for me to live with my heart on my sleeve and it may take some time for me to get to this point, but once I do, I will never regret it.