And school begins again

I don't know about you but I love when school starts. It's like free babysitting for about 6 or 7 hours. Nice! Oh and the kids learn a thing or two. That's important, I guess.

What I don't like is all the paperwork you have to fill out. Geez. Must the school know everything? Now they know how to get ahold of me when my kids act up at school. Not that it has ever happened but you never know.

But when school starts, I find it funny to see how Joe and I differ in parenting methods. He and I are similar in that we are hands off when it comes to educating the kids. We don't like to meddle in the classroom. Don't get me wrong, we pay attention to homework and grades but you won't find me hanging around the class waiting to talk to the teacher. We only do that when something major is going wrong (like last spring with Caitlynn). Actually I hate going to the parent-teacher conferences. Seriously. I think I get that from my mom. She never met with my teachers and found it a waste of time. Like mother like daughter, I guess. Then again, I was the model student. Perfect in every way. No need for my mom to worry. (Do I hear snickering in the background?)

However, where Joe and I differ is how we drop the kids off at school. I barely stop to let them get out of the car before I'm driving off like a maniac. Joe actually stops, turns off the car, and will wait a few minutes until they are settled on the playground. Maybe he's a worry wart about their safety. Me? Yeah, they'll be fine. 

Here's to a good, productive year.


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Parenting way back when...

Do you ever wonder what it was like to parent back, in say, year 10,000 AD or even 2000 AD? No? Really? I'm the only nerd in the group that wonders about things like this?

Sometimes when I'm watching nerd TV like the History Channel or National Geographic, I find myself wondering odd things. Take for instance the first humans... they hadn't developed language yet, right? So, how did they yell at their children? Perhaps that's when "no" was invented. Think about it... the little baby cave boy is about to climb onto a big boulder that is sitting next to a cliff. The mom has to say something to stop the baby cave boy from falling off he cliff. What does she say? Ga? Gor? Oooo? I'm thinking she does one of those long, drawn out "Nooooooooooo's."

But as I was thinking about baby Neanderthals, I began to think about living back in the Dark Ages or the Middle Ages or the Bronze Age. It doesn't matter. All the important "ages" were long ago and I'm pretty sure they all pretty much sucked. Did parents (especially moms) nag their children like we do today? What was it like being a mom back then? Did she analyze her every parenting move? If I say it this way, then he might actually listen to me. I think we need a chore chart.


I wonder what mom's sounded like back then...

• Timothy, I'm telling you for the last time. PUT YOUR BOW AND ARROW AWAY. NOW. 
• Elizabeth, I don't care if your friends are playing sticks and stones by the river, the laundry has be done. Today. We only have 2 pairs of clothes for each person. 
• Time to wake up, kids! The bright, shiny thing in the sky is on.
• You don't like my cooking? Well, you try making sheep stomach and oats taste good. 
• No, you may not hang around with the boy from the family living next to the creek. They're barbarians. 

Now that you are imagining a family living back in 500 BC (or 1300 BC), think about this...

Has parenting gotten more complicated or have we made it so by over-analyzing every single thing we do and say to our kids?

Yeah, I think about this stuff too much. I gotta get out more.








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Greatest Mom in the World

I’m the greatest mom in the world.

My kids didn’t say it. I said it. I’m the greatest. You heard it here first.

What makes me so great (as a mom, that is)?

• I’m baking the kids their favorite cookies today. Snickerdoodles. Mmmmm….
• I let them go to bed at 10:00 or even 10:30 in the summer. That luxury is ending soon in order to get ready for school.
• I let them sleep until 9 or 10 every day. Again, this little luxury is also ending. They need to get used to waking up by 7:30. This might put me in the running for “Worst Mom in the world.”
• I let them have ice cream for breakfast. Not everyday. It’s only when we have ice cream in the house (not too often).
• The kids taught themselves how to ride their bikes. How does this make me great? Well, I told them the basics of bike riding and that they needed to learn balance. They finally got it.
• With a little guidance from me, Caitlynn is now able to cook her own eggs in the morning. That way, I can sleep in until the smoke detector goes off. Good alarm clock, by the way.
• I don’t care if Miles eats a cookie off the floor. I think of it as an immune system building exercise.
• I don’t schedule play dates. In fact, I didn’t know what a “play date” was until I picked up an issue of Parenting Magazine when I took Caitlynn to the doctor when she was in Kindergarten (5 years ago). No, the kids go outside and just play with their friends. No parental interaction. Kind of nice if you ask me.
• I have never used a time-out as a punishment tool. It never worked on Caitlynn and just didn’t feel like using it with Miles. Again, didn’t know what time-outs were until I read Parenting Mag. (Maybe I need a subscription… but then again, I probably won’t read it. Better yet, I should just go to the pediatrician’s office and read her copy.) We have other systems in place for punishment that seem more effective anyway, but I won’t go into details other than we use a check-mark system for good behavior.
• I laugh at their jokes even when they aren't funny or if I just don't understand "kid humor."
• I sometimes watch iCarly with Caitlynn. The show can be funny. Sometimes. But it makes me miss family sitcoms of the 80s like Family Ties and the Cosby Show. 

So, yeah, I’m awesome. I have made quite a few mistakes along the way and I am not afraid to admit it. It’s called a learning curve and the kids either don’t notice the mistakes I made or they just went ahead and forgave me.

In fact, I bet everyone reading this is in the running for World’s Greatest Dad or Mom. Pat yourself on the back and give yourself a round of applause. You've earned it.








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What did you get for me?

I go to the store. Alone. No kids. (freakin' awesome)

I come home from the store, bags in tow.

I walk through the door and the first thing I'm asked by Miles is, "What did you get for me?"

Every. Single. Time.

What did you get for me?

I'm a little tired of being asked this. Caitlynn just goes through the bags silently, hoping that I bought some good junk food. Sorry, kid, the store was clear out of gummy bears and Goldfish. Some freak occurrence. The crappy food truck didn't show up. It was help up on I-90 by a group of terrorists. Who knew they liked Goldfish, Yoo-hoo, and Ruffles potato chips? Weird, huh?

While Caitlynn is looking for her daily helping of high fructose corn syrup laden snacks, Miles wants more toys. He thinks I will buy him toys every time I visit the grocery store. Yeah right, kid.

As a parent, I feel it is necessary to lie to your children. No, no, not all the time. Just part of the time. On Tuesdays. Maybe on Saturdays. Definitely on Fridays. Lying is good. Sometimes. Like when I want to get Miles to stop bombarding me with questions when I walk in the door.

Here are some the answers (lies) I'm telling Miles when I get home from the store with nothing but boring food in my bags. Food is so boring. So 1990s.

• Yes, Miles, I got you a big boat. It's outside. Pray for rain. We don't live near a lake or ocean.
• Look what I got you, buddy -- a box of crickets! They were having a huge sale at Petco. 
• Miles, it must be your lucky day, because I came home with your very own -- wait for it -- Chia Pet! Watch it grow! Amazing, really. 
• I got you a can of pepper spray. We live around bears, not to scare you or anything. I just want you to be prepared when you go off by yourself without telling Daddy and I. Bears live here. In Montana. By the playground.

I could go on... I have plenty of more lies (half truths). I'll save them for later.








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True calling

I think Caitlynn finally found her true calling. She wants to be a spy. Now, if she can only keep a secret.

The other day, Miss Caty and I were discussing possible career paths for her. She's 9 and I think she's ready to take on the world. We were spitballing ideas around about her future plans. Much to my surprise, her future plan is not to live with Joe and I after college and play computer games all day long. That's pretty much what she does now, so I was certain this would carry on into adulthood.

She's been playing Nancy Drew games quite a bit lately and the idea of becoming a detective intrigued her. Then we started talking about the CIA and being a spy. She wants to learn Russian. And possibly Arabic. Maybe Chinese, too. But Russian for sure. She's excited that she can learn juicy details about other people (and countries). That's exciting even if you aren't a spy. Gossip is fun!

But I worry about her spy skills. She's not the most graceful on her feet, so slinking around and hiding quietly in a dark corner somewhere (in Russia?), will take some major training. She has tried sneaking up on me, but I know she's there. She's not so quiet and tends to run into something, alerting me that my daughter is trying to play a trick on me. Sometimes she gets Miles in on the act, but he's a giggler. I can hear him coming from a mile away. Ha! Caught you! Now it's time to learn what you know! Who do you work for? 

Then there's the ability to keep secrets. Kids, in general, are terrible at keeping secrets. I think that's a skill learned later in life, like when you become a teenager and you have way more to hide from your parents than you do at age 9. I know at age 16, I was quite good at keeping secrets, especially ones that implicated me.

I wanted to be a spy, too. Still do. I don't want to learn Russian, though. I'll stick with English and I'll just spy on my kids when they aren't looking.





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Artificial selection

Wouldn't it be great if we were able to pick and choose the genes we passed on to our children? The way it works now, it's like a lottery. Half the genes come from you and the other half come from your egg or sperm donor. You have no say as to which genes get passed on. It just isn't fair.

As I look at my kids, I kind of wish I had more of a say in all this. There are some traits in Caitlynn and Miles I'd like switched out. I won't go into details, though. Caitlynn reads the blog.

I would have sat down with Joe and made a list of our "good genes" and our "bad genes." Then we would have spent the afternoon arguing over who's genes are better (mine are, btw). But for us, we weren't even trying to get pregnant. It just happened. The stork knocked on our door and there was Caitlynn. Crazy how it happens that way...

But if I had the chance to negotiate with Joe over our genes, I wonder what the negotiations would have sounded like:

Me: The baby has to be good looking. My family is better looking than yours. 

Joe: Really? I don't see it that way, but ok. My family is smarter, so the baby gets my intelligence. 

Me: My common sense and your book-smarts. 

Joe: What about my common sense? 

Me: You have common sense?

Joe: I thought I did. 

Me: Um... let's just stick with the plan -- my common sense and your intelligence. Fair?

Joe: Ok. 

Me: Creativity. The child has to have some creative genes. Yours or mine? I think mine. My creativity is more tame than yours.

Joe: How so? I'm normal.

Me: Whatever. I didn't spend an afternoon freaking people out on the northside of Chicago -- intentionally while your older brother laughed his ass off. 

Joe: Yeah. That was funny. 

Me: Now, let's talk about diseases.

Joe: Ah come on... do we have to? An old Steve McQueen movie is on...

Just think of the whole process as artificial selection. We did this with plants and animals over the years. Way back when, Dexter the cat's ancestors were busy hunting for prey and you couldn't cuddle with them. Now Dexter just attacks my feet and the occasional mouse. Over the years, we've tamed cats and dogs to be our pets. I could go on, but I won't (too science-y). Suffice it to say, we've changed most of the vegetables that we eat today -- corn, wheat, beans -- all to our liking.

I get the feeling you would rather it be a lottery when it comes to making babies. Fine. Let nature take its course. But beware, your offspring may end up with your chronically smelly feet or your sperm/egg donor's big ears.

Just sayin...









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