A Mom's Life

My New Home on the Web...

2006-10-16T12:09:00.000-07:00

Hello all you "A Mom's Life" readers!
I have a new web site I've been working on, and now it's up and running.
With the new software I'm using for my blog, I can now expand my site to include links and pictures more easily, as well as video down the road. So hop on over to the new "A Mom's Life" web site!
The link is web.mac.com/meredithsinclair
See ya there!!!

The Measure Of A Little Man

2006-06-30T20:28:00.000-07:00

Aloha all!
The family and I just got back from an amazing journey off the mainland. Maui is one fantastic, awe inspiring place. Surfing with my eight-year-old Max was definitely my personal highlight. I laughed out loud, hollared his name and gave big "hang ten" hand siganls from the water as he deftly rode the first wave he tried all the way to shore. He was a natural, and I was the proud mother hen. I will say I caught some air myself, so I have achieved a whole new level of coolness in my son's eyes.
Afterward, he looked me square in the eyes, with an "I'm dead serious" tone and said "Mom...I think this could be my profession."
Wow, he may have to find another surfing buddy when he wants to practice in our own Lake Michigan. Can you justify moving to Hawaii to chase your third grader's surfing career?
Anyway, we are finally getting over the re-entry jet lag, and are now running head first into summer here on the North Shore of Chicago.
Tonight I had an epiphany about my boys as they pertain to summertime fun. Yesterday I found $.99 butterfly nets at the local hardware store and tonight we took the two boys on an evening firefly hunt. They caught ten between them, ran around the hood, made loads of noise, and got really dirty AGAIN. ( We mistakenly bathed them before the night hike.) To make matters worse (well, actually better), we stopped off at our good friend's house along the way to run around their yard, swing on their giant tree swing, and say goodbye as they packed for a little road trip.
When we got home, I decided to rinse my little men off once more before putting them into their newly cleaned bedding. I washed their feet, and knees, and hands and faces quickly, brushed their teeth, and plopped them between the sheets.
Going back to drain the tub, it all became so clear.
The true amount of unabashed fun my boys have each day can be easily measured by observing the total amount of grime left in the tub each night.
When else in ones life can this theory be applied? What rocks is that by being the mom, I get to catch fireflies, play in the dirt, swing on the giant swing and just get really grimey too...all in the name of great parenting.

So I say all of us should measure our summer fun using the grimey tub method. Channel your inner eight year old boy and go ahead and get down and dirty!

breakfast in bed....again!!

2006-05-17T11:45:00.000-07:00

Mothers Day.
It's a holiday that jewelry stores, florists and card shops love. I've heard some moms say they think it's over hyped and what they really want is a trip to the spa, and the day to themselves. Now, I love a good massage as much as the next chick, but I've realized that Mothers Day means way more to my kids than to me. To them, Mothers day is a their big chance to say "waa hoo mom!, you rock and we know it!"
In my house Mothers Day is beautifully predictable. Max and Tru sneak into our bedroom, give the spy-like silent gesture to my husband to meet them in the kitchen, before tip-toeing down the stairs. I pretend to be in a deep sleep, and stay in bed.
Much clammoring and crashing later, The three men in my life boldly walk up the stairs, tray in hand, and announce "Happy Mothers Day!" in their happiest voices.
I jump up...completely shocked, prop myself up with my pillows, open my hand-made gifts (this year it was a clay pinch pot and styrofoam cup vase with a paper flower sticking out the top), and watch as my sweet boys eat my entire tray of breakfast themselves. It's happened every year for eight years, and I would not change a thing. My husband and I just sit back and enjoy the bed full of crumbs, jelly stained sheets, and the unavoidable OJ spill. And we know in a month, the same thing will take place with my husband in the place of honor.

Back Seat Ponderings

2006-05-09T10:55:00.000-07:00

Mom, do donkeys ever get sick?

I was just driving to the grocery store, feeling the warmth on my head thru the sun roof, when Truman piped up out of nowhere with this question. 'huh?" I said. " Do donkeys ever get sick? " I had to answer him, explaining that donkeys probably get sick, but I've never really seen a sick one. All I wanted to say was " what in the world made you think of that?" So I did. He explained in a very matter of fact way that he just thought that if there are animal doctors called vets, (which he learned about on Animal Planet yesterday), then animals must get sick, so he wondered if donkeys were one of those animals.

I find it so refreshing that kids verbalize the bizarre questions that run through their heads, never stopping to think that they might sound goofy asking them out loud. Can you imagine what would happen if we removed the logical filter that prohibits our random thoughts from flying out of our mouths? My husband probably wishes I had a little tighter fit on mine sometimes. How freeing would it be to let the crazy questions fly?

Okay, no joke, as I am writing this Truman is playing G.I. Joes at my feet. He just looked up and said " do all snakes swim?" I'm wrapping this up to go on-line and find out.

Oops, I did it again

2006-05-06T06:07:00.000-07:00

I have once again been the big Blog slacker.
Spring has come in like a lion cub, and is going out like a full grown, roaring lioness.

It's May......the month my husband and I will attempt to move five years worth of Cr-p from one house to another.
We've known for several weeks that when May hit it was going to be all-systems go on the proverbial moving machine. But somehow we have also managed to live in complete denial too.
I always thought that the holidays were the busiest time of the year for me and my kids. No so. It's definately Spring.
First of all, given my kids pale, weakened figures due to lack of sun and warmth for five months here in Chicagoland, I feel obligated to play outside with them every moment possible. 50 degrees is the new 70.
Then there is the fact that everyone you know comes out of hiding, there's major end of the year school projects, plans for summer fun to be made, a wimpy body that needs to be forced to run and get in shape, and a slew of writing projects firmly whispering "finish me, finish me, finish me". I also volunteered to run the Spring book fair next year for Max's elementary school, Spring being the operative word. I figured I would have no real work til next March at best. Turns out the school wants a new vender, and we need to find one ASAP. Doesn't help that the new PTA president is a very good friend of mine who frequently goes above and beyond the call of girlfriend duty for me, so any thought of shirking my duties is out of the question. Oh, and my PR position on Truman's preschool board wraps up with me taking photos of all the out-going board members kids and putting them in frames to present at the last meeting. Then there is the desire to actually talk to my kids, make some half-decent meals, and keep the health department from knocking on my door due to excessive mud in the house.
So have I justified my lack of bloggery yet? I could go on, but I won't cause I'm sure many of you could top my list.
I really HAVE missed pouring out my random thoughts, and connecting with those of you who care to read them. I promise to visit here more often. So feel free to chat back and let me now what you are thinking.....is Spring a little too bouncy for you too?
Okay, time to go fill a few of these boxes sitting in my kitchen-they're blocking the coffee maker.......enough said.

The Taming of the Crew

2006-04-26T12:46:00.000-07:00

I have to start by saying that breakfast in our house is well, how should I put it…..loud.

Breakfast is the one meal we are all here for each day, and everyone wants to get their two cents in, usually at the same time.
My husband and I decided this year, that because he is not home during the week for dinner, it is important that breakfast be our family meal. We always sit down together with our boys and ask them how they’re doing and what they are looking forward to that day. We find out what they’re into this minute, and basically just catch up on life stuff before we all head our separate ways.
It works pretty well most days, but with kids who are four and eight, and me trying to fill my husband in on life at home, while his Blackberry vibrates off the table; we can have issues with taking turns and keeping the volume down.
And that’s not even counting the fact that after eleven hours of sleep; my boys are all jacked up on morning speed the moment they arise.

So this morning we were in rare form and our decibels hit a fever pitch. Everyone was talking at once about who needed more Cheerios, who’s toast popped up first, who hid Max’s homework folder, Which shirt Tru had to wear to school, What I still needed to pick for the new house, and how many minutes my husband had to return the overdue Care Bears video to the library before we had to pay another late fee.
I sat there in the din and realized our family meal was turning into something out of Animal House.

I quickly went to the CD player, piped some Beethoven into the dinning room, and announced a new table rule. If anyone at the table could not hear the music, we were talking, (or making various other little boy noises) too darn loud.
Everyone looked at me, listened for the music, and decided that the “new rule” was all good. No kidding…the rest of our morning nosh was lovely. We still talked, and laughed and made silly noises, but we could actually hear each other. And I never once had to tell them I was beginning to get a headache, or that someone was about to be booted from the table for disorderly conduct.
Now if I can just figure out a way to keep them from building a 3-d replica of the Taj Mahal with their waffles.

Hey, ya got to pick your battles right?

A Little "Good Job" Goes a Long Way

2006-04-19T18:52:00.000-07:00

I was fully prepared to post today about my decision to retire the lawn service….I know, slow news day.
Then I received an e-mail from my friend Donna. She had just gotten back from a trip to California with her family, and she had a great story to share.
Her husband had already flown out for a two week business trip, and she was flying out with her three little girls (7 and under!), to meet him.
She said that she had prepared the activity bag, got the airport scavenger hunt together, and did her normal “keep the kids happy” routine on the plane.
As she was gathering up her goods to de-board, a gentleman came up to her to give her a piece of his mind.
He looked her in the eyes and said, “I wish I had a blue ribbon to give to you, instead I only have this, and handed her a little piece of paper on which he scribbled “Most Terrific Mom Award”. She said that it was truly the best prize she had ever gotten…ever.

How many times have we seen other moms doing an outstanding job with their kids, and not said a word. We live in a society that screams “don’t enter my personal space!” But that not only keeps the creeps out, it keeps us from telling a perfect stranger “good job” or “well done”. After hearing this sweet story, I am committed to noticing and telling other moms what they are doing right.
If actors can have a billion awards shows each season to hand out trophies for the same four movies, than surely we moms can applaud each other once and awhile for the great work we do everyday to grow great people.

One Yummy Cookie-without the guilt

2006-04-12T12:19:00.000-07:00

I just discovered my new favorite hip mom mag.
You may already know about it, but I love it so much, I wanted to tell ya anyway.
It's called Cookie. Yep, just Cookie. and it's delicious!
It's full of great photos, style ideas, cool kid stuff, and smart articles.
And even though I would probably never put my grubby little guys in the stylin" duds shown in this magazine, they sure are fun to look at. Plus there are great new music reviews that offer up stuff that won't make you want to hurl when you listen to it. Let's face it.... Raffi's great, but so is Green Day!
If you are looking for a fun summer magazine that treats moms like the cool, fun loving, smart women we are, then check it out.
Here's a quote I found yesterday within it's pages and I can't get it out of my head.

"I think, at a child's birth, if a mother could ask a Fairy Godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift would be curiosity."

Elenor Roosevelt, October 2 1966

So think curiosity, and go after and uncover something this month you've always wondered about!

QUESTION:
Anybody have any fun and creative ways to encourage your kids curiosity?? If you do, just post it under comments!

Citizen Hunter

2006-04-06T11:41:00.001-07:00

Hello everyone!

I just wanted to let you know about a new blog site called Citizen Hunter. Flavia Colgan, an MSNBC political strategist, and all around cool chick has just started this blog site to encourage the real people...the everyday citizens to get out and be heard in the political process. I'm letting ya know because "A Mom's Life" is her first featured blog under a section she calls Work at Home Moms!
In my conversations with her, we both agree that moms who "stay home" with the kids are definately working moms too. Stay-at-home moms really don't stay home all that much now do they?
Anyway, if ya have a moment check her out! Click on the Work-at-Home-Mom section to find "A Mom's Life"!
Have a great weekend!
M

Suiting Up

2006-04-04T21:20:00.000-07:00

It’s April, the days are stretching out, and the notion of summer is beginning to rumble around in my head. We are back to our regular routine after a brief but quite springy little break.

So yesterday I decide to start the search for a great bathing suit. We are taking a trip with ALL of my husband's co-workers to Hawaii, and I am determined to not look like a suburban mom. It may seem a little pre-mature, but I have been caught too many times in June with nothing left on the racks. Although I am the same weight I was pre-mommy-dom, after two babies, there are few little patches of flesh that need to be either padded or boosted or just plain covered. My pals the stretch marks can be tricky little buggers.
Finding the perfect suit is simply not as easy as it used to be. I went to J Crew first, but quickly discovered that the tiny bikinis would never survive the sand castle building, frisbee throwing, kid carrying, and wave jumping now required of me. Plus I know Truman would be the first to tell me that if he can’t go outside in his underwear, I can’t either.

Next, I hit Nordstrom and found a young salesgirl who promised me she had something that met all my prerequisites. She handed me an awesome BCBG, reversible black and brown halter suit, with a very sexy plunging top. She also handed me some padded inserts for the boob part, and told me it would be great.
She was right….almost. It was sexy enough to catch my husband’s eye, and G rated enough to keep my boys from total embarrassment. And it was ONLY $148.00, not counting the boob implants! I hesitantly showed the bathing suit girl, and told her I was just a bit concerned about the high cut booty section. She insisted that it was the way it was supposed to look.
I decided to get it and show my husband for a true opinion. As I was checking out, I was joking about how much harder suit shopping had become post-kids. She then said, “I think you look really great!….. for having two kids.” Is that like “You look really good… for your age?” I’ve decided to just take it as a compliment.

I slipped into the suit after the kids were in bed, and stood in front of my husband. “Well, what do ya think?” I said. “I think it’s GREAT!” He said.
I then realized that asking a man if too much of your booty or breast is showing, is like asking a three year old if he has too much icing on his cupcake.

I pranced around, bent down, and acted out various mom positions. It seemed like a go, until my husband very dryly said “How are ya gonna reverse it with the “falsies” stitched to one side?” (Pregnant Pause Here)
We then cracked up at the mental picture of me wearing it flipped around with the flesh colored boob pads on the outside.
The only reason I justified the over-priced suit was because it was two suits in one. Plus in the end, I knew I would be tugging the butt down every two seconds.

Dang! Sexy hot mom suit out the window.
I returned the suit today-saved myself 168.00 dollars, and I’m back to square one.
I’ll keep ya posted.

Coming In For A Landing

2006-03-31T18:10:00.000-08:00

It's Friday-8:12 pm.
The boys are in bed, the red is poured, crabcakes are in the oven.
A quiet little dinner for my man and I.
It's my personal reward for rockin' Spring Break with the little dudes. The weather gods cooperated, thank heavens, so we were outside a ton. We biked, and played, and got really super dirty. We had breakfast for dinner too many times and movie night on Wednesday instead of Friday..I know, crazy eh?. But to my boys we were mixin' it up and being wild. Basically we just let the week unravel as it pleased.

It was nice having no hard and fast times to be anywhere, and minimal responsibilites for five days. Throughout the week the boys fought and laughed, and wrestled and hugged, and got on each others nerves, and had a blast together. It taught Max patience, and Truman the art of compromise. Sometimes it's good for them to have to deal with each other, and figure it out as they go.

The prospect of soley entertaining the boys and creating a fun holiday for them was initially a bit daunting. But this week I discovered that with a little creative planning, a few surprises, a lot of flexibility, some dirt, and the ability to channel the mentality of a wound-up four year old......five days as Head Cruise Director of the Spring Break fu ship, can be as easy as mud pie.

Service With A Smile

2006-03-27T18:51:00.008-08:00

Today was the first day of my kid's Spring Break. Maxwell was on the mend from a two day whirlwind tour of the stomach flu, and Tru was full of his high octane energy.
I've been busy planning all sorts of fun and exciting activities for my week long stint as Director of Spring Break. There will be sleep-overs and playdates, art activities and museum trips. I am honestly looking forward to the promise of warm weather here in Chicago, and hanging loosely with my crazy little dudes for the week.
But today I also did something for me and me alone. I set up a one hour private tennis lesson, to work solely on my lame serve. I play doubles every Friday while Tru is in pre-school, and trust me when I say, I owe it to my playmates to kick it up a notch in the service department.

So, there I was for an hour being coached by the tennis pro who's serve down right frightens me. He is my age, sweet, and kind, but also quite serious about his work. And now that I am actually paying for the lessons, I take every minute very seriously as well.
We worked really hard the whole hour, breaking down every inch of my form.
He was the adult and I was the child. I wanted to do it right and make him proud, and I longed for him to say "well done" after each try. When I gacked I looked to him for just the right advice, and when after 150 balls, I finally smashed it in and he beamed, I felt so darn proud. I so appreciated his belief in my ability, and was thankful when he didn't rub it in when I looked like a dork. He made it very clear what I needed to do to improve, but laughed right along with me when I kept goofing up the same part over and over and over again.

It was odd being on the other side. I spend far more time these days coaching, than being coached.
Whether it's basketball shots, spelling words, proper handwriting, teeth brushing, or simple manners, I'm the coach.
This brief lesson today taught me a whole lot more than how to power up my tennis serve. It was a poignant reminder that in the end, it's much more about how ya coach, then what ya coach.

2006-03-27T18:51:00.002-08:00

2006-03-27T18:51:00.001-08:00

2006-03-27T18:51:00.000-08:00

And The Oscar Goes To........

2006-03-21T19:33:00.000-08:00

I've been a major blog slacker for the past several weeks. It's been a crazy-busy start to Spring, and we're technically only two days in. I followed my husband out to L.A. during Oscar weekend (he worked and I played), danced and sang in my son's elementary school Variety Show, finally got serious about my article writing, and oh yeah, our house is on the market.

My little trip to LA LA Land, was a blast. A girlfriend of mine and her husband came along, and we leapt in with two feet. We did the Hollywood scene, got silly, stayed out WAY past our bedtime, and soaked in the celebrity vibe. It was fun to step out of our "mommy" shoes and see another world all together. On Saturday night we hit a very trendy spot, and held our own with the young and the restless. We reveled in the shock of the cute twenty-somethings when they found out we had five kids between us, and we were shocked to hear many of them confess they would gladly give up the Hollywood scene for a life with fun husbands and a batch of kids.
It was a kick. But at the end of the night I missed my kids and wished I could kiss them goodnight.
The last day there My husband and I were on our own. We lunched at the Ivy, watched a movie at the Mann's Chinese Theater, and just relaxed.
On the four hour flight home I often wondered what it would be like to really live that life. To be an actress, in the "scene”, surrounded by people who longed for your name on a piece of paper.

Then I got home, dropped my bags, obnoxiously hugged and kissed my boys, and re-connected with the life I have and love.
The very next night was the "opening night" of a quite elaborate variety show performed by parents of my son's school. We had practiced for weeks and spent many hours perfecting our numbers. I was in a couple bits, my favorite being a hip-hop number called "Girlz in the Hood". We were a group of very "street" Little Red Riding Hoods, wearing red doo-rags, tight black pants, and sparkly capes. I've danced all my life, and I had a blast being back on stage letting it all hang out.

Both my boys, my husband, and my sweet mother-in law came the first night, and from the stage I could see my little boys on the edge of their seats, jaws dropped, bodies still, eyes fixed. I think they were a little shocked and awed. They have never seen me move quite like that. After the show, the "cast" signed autographs on the kid’s show shirts and playbills.
There I stood looking like a superhero....suburban mom by day, hip-hopping fairytale character by night. The gym doors opened and in ran all the kiddos, looking for their favorite cast members.

We all stood around signing autographs for a long time. My boys were so proud and amazed that their mom was "famous", even if it was for a brief shining moment, and only to people under four feet tall.
But in that little moment it all became beautifully clear. To the people who matter the very most to me, I am a celebrity.
I may not have an Oscar or Tony (yet), but I daily strive to write, produce, direct, and star in one amazing drama... or comedy depending on the day. And even on the days when the show flops, the actors are prima donnas, and you want to close the curtain, it truly is the role of a lifetime.

Button, Button, Who's Got The Button?

2006-02-28T12:24:00.000-08:00

Yesterday my four year old got a special package for his birthday from his Aunt and Uncle. It was a pirate treasure chest filled with all kinds of golden treasures. Gold paint and glitter and beads, and coins, and buttons. He loved EVERYTHING, but the buttons have definately been the big hit. My eight year old came home from school, and was instantly drawn to the bag of shiny, mixed up buttons as well.
They sat at the dining room table for such a long time sorting, examining, trading and just touching all the buttons. They created stories around the buttons...Truman said he was setting up a button shop, and layed them out in a perfect display for me to purchase, and Max separated them into special piles to be used as "sprite money" (he's reading the Spiderwick Chronicles right now, which is filled with fairies, and goblins, and sprites.)
I have a small box of buttons we use for crafts, and I know they have always loved to play with them, but it just struck me again how such a simple object could become so enthralling. They were obsessed.
I also loved seeing how they explored the buttons uniquely. Same object, different interpretations.

So, the next time your looking for something to keep them REALLY, REALLY busy, that doesn't involve any remote controls or electronic sounds; dump out a bag of buttons and let the games begin.

My New Favorite Spritzer

2006-02-26T09:07:00.000-08:00

It's Sunday morning and all the boys in my life are upright and outside! I'm actually in the house alone, doing a final blow-out disinfecting. I'm on a one woman mission to eliminate every last sickness-inducing germ from within these four walls. I've got one last bedding change in the works, a few windows thrown open bringing in the cold fresh air, and I'm giving the place a dose of my new favorite spritzer. I've never used my little blog for product endorsement, but I just found my new "favorite thing." It's this little spray called Clorox Anywhere. You can spray it on toys and high chairs, and door knobs and light switches, and phones and it won't harm your kids. I feel like my boys walking around with their cowboy guns shooting the bad guys. So I'm off to crank the tunes and spray anything that doesn't move. I only wish it was safe enough to coat the kids with everyday before they left for school.
Happy Sunday!

Wanted: Temporary Mom

2006-02-22T07:24:00.000-08:00

What a change from last Wednesday.

Last Wednesday- the same day I had that great pre-work breakfast with my husband, my 8 year old son came home with a doozie of a virus and has just gone back to school today. His temp. hit 104.5, and it wiped him out totally. Tru's fourth birthday was Monday, the same day he caught it, and proceeded to projectile vomit all over the bathroom. I mean ALL over the bathroom. Thankfully he's back to school today too. Now it is Wednesday again and the last man in my house has caught it and is upstairs sleeping, and working via Blackberry.
Oh yea, I got it about Sunday, and now what's left is a killer sinus thing.
I never mind taking care of sick kids all that much. I go into commando mode, and see it as a time to love em' up and coccoon in the house.
What bites is when I get sick too. Everytime this happens I can't help but feel a bit resentful that I can not just stay in bed and "call in sick" My husband can't take a sick day because his wife is ill, so I end up trudging through.
Unfortunately I always seem to get a little snippy with my husband, letting him know what an injustice this is to full-time moms. If I were a working mom, I would just keep the nanny for the day and stay in bed. I am lucky enough to have a sitter for three hours every Monday. Somehow the flu doesn't know that-I'm never sick on Monday.
So, last night he walks in from work with a big bunch of flowers and says "I know you've had a really rough week, and I want you to know I really appreciate all you do, even when you aren't well." Ouch. I know he does feel for me when I'm sick and still have to go full speed, but there really isn't much he can do to help.

So I was thinking... someone needs to start a business for moms that find themselves sick, or with sick kids, and without back-up. Temporary, screened, competent people we could hire for a day to run to Walgreens and pick up ginger ale, and medicine, hang with the kids, do barfy laundry, make the kids dinner, and just be there when WE need to "call in sick."

Okay, enough ranting. I need to go change all the bedding, and lay down for an hour before pre-school pick-up.

How many weeks til Spring???

The Most Important Meal of the Day

2006-02-16T12:19:00.000-08:00

I had a date with my husband on Wednesday, and it was amazing.
It only lasted 40 minutes, but its effects have lingered all week. We planned it in 30 seconds and it cost under twenty dollars.

Because my husband comes home late most nights, we decided to take a bit of time back in the morning before he headed off to work.
Wednesday was a day that Truman had school, I didn't have a pre-school board meeting, or a commitment to volunteer in Max's class, or any other pressing errands.
So my husband drove Tru to school for me, and we planned to meet in fifteen minutes at a local cafe for breakfast.
I put on some cute duds, threw a little make-up on my face, and tamed my morning mane.
I wanted him to think I was lookin' cute.
When I pulled up and parked, I could see his car coming down the street, and I got a little butterfly in my stomach...honestly.
We sat at a little table, stared at each other, ate our eggs and talked about selling the house, how crazy and wonderful the boys are, if the warm weather would last and what our day ahead looked like. Even though we've lived together for nearly fifteen years, and do talk a lot for an ol' married couple, there is something about sitting across from one another over hot coffee that makes the talking more special . We savored our food and each other, and when we were done he looked at his watch, sent someone a Blackberry message, and we walked out holding hands...honestly. (no one holds hands anymore and I'm on a mission to bring it back.)
As we kissed each other goodbye on the street, he laughingly said "This feels scandalous"
And in a way it was true. We felt like two people having a little secret rendezvous.
We pledged to do this more often, waved goodbye from our cars and went our separate ways.
After twenty years of hanging out together, I never would have thought that a seventeen dollar breakfast alone, on the spur of the moment, could be so darn romantic!
What a way to start the day.

Too Cool For School

2006-02-02T11:47:00.000-08:00

I knew it would happen sooner or later. And today it did.

It is rather temperate here today, so I decided to take my SUV to the hand car wash (no one told us when we bought it that it wasn't gonna fit in a regular one). That's what we get for buying an oil sucking car I guess. Anyway, I was pushing my little guy in our jogger over to pick up the car, and realized that my second grader's class would be having their lunch recess right at that time.
His school is on the way, so I thought "How great! " "I can surprise Max and give him a little boost for the afternoon!" As I approached the playground I noticed he wasn't out yet. But sure enough, as I got closer, he came bounding out of the cafeteria door, looking for his buddies. He quickly found them and instantly incorporated himself into their game of wall ball.
I stood there and watched, waiting for him to notice me. I felt a bit spy-like, but was enjoying seeing how he interacted with his friends.
Then he looked over and we caught each others eyes. I smiled and started waving, ready for him to barrel into my arms as usual. But he just stood there looking at me, smiling but not moving. "What are you doing on the playground mom?" he said. "What?" I said
But what I was thinking was, "What? No hug? No run? No "HI MOM!!" "What's up with that?"
I told him I was going to pick up the car, and still he just stood there looking at me. So I took a chance and said "Can I have a hug dude?", leaving it up to him.
What happened next was so telling about who my boy is right now.
He paused a couple seconds, then keeping his head perfectly still, glanced around out of the corners of his eyes to see if any of the guys were looking. When the coast was clear, he smiled real big and sprinted all the way over and gave me a man-hug, you know the kind...head lowered and into my chest, with a couple of strong pats on the back.
Then he turned and ran off with a "See ya after school mom!"
As I was leaving the playground I turned around to give a little goodbye wave. And there he was immersed in his friends, looking confident and independent, and NOT looking for me.
So I slowly put my hand down, turned around and walked away knowing it was all good.

Smarty Pants

2006-02-01T11:31:00.000-08:00

This morning Truman was taking a warm bath, and overheard me chatting on the phone with his Grandma about his ailing condition. I mentioned that I thought his fever broke last night and that he was seemingly on the mend. Then big "T" yelled out from the bathroom "Tell Grammy my fever didn't breaked last night.....it's still fixed!"

Can ya really blame the kid for trying to hold onto his current set up of extra TV, Ginger Ale, an especailly nice big brother, and having nurse mom at his beck and call ?
Smarty pants

Sick Day Trick

2006-01-31T15:09:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I was working on a lovely little blog today about how the 80's party I am getting ready to attend this Saturday night has been forcing me to re-live my formative decade.
Then Truman turned ill. Now I am sitting here on the floor of the living room (Tru has taken over the couch), watching him enjoy one of our sick day traditions.
The "Sick Day Sack" is a Charlie Brown pillow case from my husband's childhood, that I pull out whenever one of my boys is sofa bound. Inside I fill it with stuff they can do while they are under the weather. My boys really dig it and it's a fun way to keep them entertained and stationary.
Today Truman has a nasty cold: fever, over flowing nose, watery eyes, and an all around weary demeanor.
He is sick enough to need to stay still and rest, but just well enough to not really want to.
So, here he sits above me, talking a mile a minute in his stuffy nose tone, sniffing every fourth word. But he's staying on the couch, contentedly working on putting tiny stickers on white paper plates (he says they are for dinner tonight.)
His Sick Day Sack also holds coloring books, a couple of retired McDonald's toys he forgot we had, markers that only show up on special paper (brillant), and a couple sore throat lollipops. Books on tape, glow sticks, puzzle books, and other dollar store stuff work great too.
So, the next time ya have a kid on the couch for the day, give the sack a try-it will keep them happy and you sane, at least until the barfing begins.
Alright, got to go replentish the tissues, find the Childrens Sudafed, and get the boy some more oj.

Special Guest Day

2006-01-23T18:36:00.000-08:00

" Come on Grandpa, let's go to school!"
These were the words of my three year old Truman this past Saturday.
It was "Special Guest Day" at pre-school, and Tru was taking his Grandpa.
Earlier in the week we infomed my dad that he was the "chosen one" and that Truman had no back-up. It was Grandpa he wanted to show around, final answer.
My dad raced through a hair cut early that morning and sped over with ten minutes to spare. He did not want to be late for his guest starring role. As he skipped up the sidewalk toward our house, and saw Truman waiting behind the glass storm door, my dad's eyes sparked. I don't know who was more psyched.
My dad loaded his little buddy into his car( AKA the batmobile),and off they went.
As the two hours past, I often wondered how my dad was navigating through the finger paint, little chairs, circle time and goldfish crackers.
Then they came bounding in the back door and the story began. I listened to how they built a sculpture out of wood, painted a picture at the easel, sang songs on the rug, and just hung out together in Truman's world.

Taking your Grandpa to school and teaching him a thing or two- pretty darn special.
Being the "Special Guest" in Special Guest Day-priceless.

Play-Doh Therapy

2006-01-17T12:13:00.000-08:00

It's cold and snowy and dark and all around yucky outside today. It was a morning that I felt a little, okay, A LOT jealous of my showered and hip looking husband as he sauntered out the door to his very cool job.
Bless his heart, he always tells me how cute I look before he leaves (in my big ol' robe, make-up free face, and unruly hair piled on top of my head.)
My little guy Truman had no desire to go outside, but I slowly and painfully convinced him to at least come with me to pick up lunch-I thought a little yummy soup would make us all feel better on this grey morning. My days with two young boys are generally pretty full, but today was just one of those slow ones, with nothing really planned except a climb to the top of Mt. Laundry and too many phone calls to catch up on. So we sat looking at each other, trying to think of something fun to fill our hours.
Our solution? A blow-out Play-Doh extravaganza. Okay, I know, for a girl with a Masters Degree in Education, one might expect a bit more. But while we smushed and pounded and rolled, Truman and I did something else. We talked. We talked and talked and talked. And in that one on one conversation, we stared at each other too. If you have more than one kid, you know that really looking at one of them while they are talking to you can be a big thing. As moms we are often forced to multi-task our way through chats, while hardly locking pupils.
Anyway, I am really grateful for our Play-Doh therapy today.
My second grader is now about to pop in the door from school, and Truman will be roused from his afternoon nap, and the show will go on.
Sometimes it's the very little things that make me remember how important it is that I am here with them.
Being a full-time mom is not a choice for everyone, but it was for me-and I'm glad I chose Play-Doh.

ipod nation

2006-01-03T12:04:00.000-08:00

I remember when the CD first came out-and I'm only 35. So today while having lunch with my three year old Truman, It became humorously clear either A.) how old I really am, or B.) how very wide the technology gap is between my son and me.

While he was munching on his hummus and pita, he began to chair dance, and really seemed to be hearing a song in his head. So I asked him, "Tru, what are you dancing to?" His reply? "The ipod in my head is playing the Madagascar movie song- I Like to Move It, Move It!"
I can't wait to see what happens at lunch after he discovers his daddy's new video ipod.

Go With the Snow

2005-12-09T05:13:00.000-08:00

It's 7:13 AM and I have snuck downstairs for thirty minutes of my mommy wake up ritual. It's amazing how just a bit of time for coffee, on-line news, a quick to-do list, a little prayer for patience and wisdom, and maybe a little GMA can help me get ready for the slight chaos of weekday mornings.
But today I have another obstacle to prepare for.. SIX INCHES of freshly fallen SNOW! For the kid in me this means the prospect of sled riding tonight, a snow man for the backyard and a grand blow-out snow ball battle. For the mom in me this means another thing all together. Two sets of snow pants (this alone can test even the most saintly of moms), clumsy boots, many layers, and a multitude of little fuzzy accessories. Not to mention the simple task of just getting eveyone safely where they need to be for the day. Thankfully where I live they know how to deal with snow and the plows have been busy all night.
But the thing that I keep reminding myself of is that I am so lucky and blessed to be home today with my kids getting them ready, making them my "special" hot cocoa with heaps of spray whipped cream and sprinkles, (my boys think I invented it) and just taking the time to play in it all.

So, take a deep breath, put on a little green tea (it has a built in calming agent!), and go with the snow. If you are a full time mom and able to hang with your kids for the day, enjoy the moment. Hey, how great is it not to have to do the morning commute into the city!!

Have a great snowy day!!

Mommy Tricks

2005-09-14T11:54:00.000-07:00

What tricks do you use to help your kids get to school ON TIME in the Morning??

Method Acting for Moms

2005-09-14T11:08:00.000-07:00

I live with two little people who on any given day can magically transform themselves into remarkable people and animals. I literally never know who I will encounter when I walk into my three year old’s room in the morning. Sometimes he’s Dash Incredible, sometimes a baby gorilla named Zee-Zee, or Luke Skywalker, or a fire-breathing dragon. I usually figure it out by the way he says "Good Morning!"

My seven year old also still crafts quite elaborate pretend scenarios and expects me to follow along and seriously inhabit the various characters he dreams up for me. With him I am usually Chief of Police, or an undercover spy, or my favorite-Sheriff Ma. I actually rather enjoy it-most of the time.
Of course there are those inopportune moments when one of my little superheros pleads for me to be Bat Girl as I’m trying to make dinner, wipe goo off the wall, and talk to my husband on the phone all at the same time. But for the most part, I rather like the chance to exercise my mutilple personalities.

In recent months the opportunity to forget the world’s current state of mayhem, and escape to Neverland has become more and more appealing. And there’s another lovely benefit of “going there” as I call it.
My boys will do things for Elasti-girl, or Pocahantas a bit more willingly than they do for plain ol’ me. This is a fabulous mom-trick we all need to be exploiting. It’s amazing how easily Truman will go down for his afternoon nap when I take on the role of another. I am not embarrassed to say that many a day I have said “night-night” with a hearty “WOOF!”, as I channeled my inner mother dog.

So I say embrace the land of make-believe, and “go there” with gusto. Hey-no one has to know you’re having so much fun looking really ridiculous, and the expressions on your kids faces when you whole heartedly play along is so worth it. ( I think I have actually sort-of frightened the boys with my rendition of Darth Vader)
I am trying really hard to remind myself when oppotunity knocks- that sometimes the laundry can wait, and the days of being Wonder Woman for my boys are numbered.

CHILDHOOD IS SHORT.......PLAY HARD

Quote of the Century

2005-09-14T10:28:00.000-07:00

It is a happy talent to know how to play

Emerson

Savasana

2005-08-04T05:00:00.000-07:00

I finally got my bottom out of bed before my husband went off to work on Friday for a little sunrise Yoga. I always love yoga class because it’s the beautiful mix of killer workout and deep relaxation. If you do it right, you feel it the next day in mysterious muscles you never knew you had. But along with the soreness, I always feel a bit more centered and alert.
At the very end of each class there’s a lovely little thing called Savasana. It’s a time of meditation, centering and closure. Everyone lies down on their backs legs spread, arms down, palms up, eyes closed.
The teacher then leads you in a time of quiet relaxation.

It was my first time in this class and with this teacher, a wispy German woman with cropped grey hair and a firm but nurturing voice. She worked us over for more than an hour, roaming the class making sure none of us were “copping out.” As we neared the end, she announced that it was time for our reward- time to start Savasana.

Before our teacher had fully unraveled herself from her headstand, I was on my back, spread eagle, eyes closed, doing deep breathing. I was ready for a little quiet meditation.
Then came something I hadn’t expected.
Little by little the people around me started packing up- rolling their mats, putting back their blocks, and slipping on their shoes. I was trying hard to listen to our leader’s commands to breath and go to a quiet place, but all the commotion was seriously distracting.

I lay there just thinking about what a shame it was that these folks weren’t going to reap the benefits of ending the class in the calm, settled state I was striving to achieve. They apparently needed to get out of there and on to the next activity of the day. So, I’ve been thinking.......

Why are we always in such a hurry? How do we as moms prevent ourselves from simply going through our days focused on checking off the things on our over-flowing to-do list as fast as possible?
I know with my own two boys, we start rolling around 6:30am, and it’s pretty non-stop till they plop into bed at 8:00pm. More and more I have really started to examine the need for unstructured time. Summer has made this far more easy for me with the season’s built-in permission slip to relax on all fronts.
Now as I set my eyes on the beginning of another fast-paced, over-stuffed school year, I’m hoping I can take a little of my summer mentality along with me. I have never been an advocate of over-scheduled kids, so thankfully I am not a mom who has to run her kiddos to an endless string of extra-curricular activities. We stick to only one or two each season. Because of this my kids really know how to use their own imaginations and create, and plan things for themselves. They have absolutely no problem slowing down and focusing on one wonderful play experience at a time. Something I am so envious of as I muti-task my way through the day.

A friend of mine sent me an article written by Anna Quindlen-a favorite author of mine- where she speaks about the true lessons of motherhood. She makes a statement within this article where she says she wishes that when her children were small she would have enjoyed the “doing” and focused less on the “getting it done”.
I’m posting this on my fridge, and plan to make it my personal mantra as I head (a little kicking and screaming) toward Fall.

Quote of the Day

2005-06-22T06:39:00.000-07:00

"Mom, we've decided you need to dye your hair brown. Then you'll look just like Elasti-girl!"

A Moment With Joe

2005-06-21T18:44:00.001-07:00

Okay, so today I managed both a trip to the beach and the pool, one-on-one hoops with Max, a full blown tantrum over an unpreferable swimsuit, and being Pocahantas for two hours this evening.
Pretty typical day actually as "Counselor Mom" of the Sinclair Summer Camp.
Anyway, I decided to treat myself to a warm bath now that the kids are all tucked in their nests for the night.
I poured myself a glass of wine, lit my L'Occitane candle and sprinkled the matching bath salts into my slighty sand covered tub. ( I looked at the sand as a natural exfoliant. )
I unfolded myself into the water, layed back, and shut my eyes. Ahh-heaven.
It wasn't until I opened them again that I noticed someone staring at me, and kinda smirking. It was a very handsome, half naked G. I. Joe.
He was sitting straight up on the corner of the tub, legs pointing toward me like two missles ready to fire.
I stared back, locking eyes with his for a little too long, sort of expecting him to blink first.
I think I actually started to cover myself and then instead, put my foot up and knocked him off the edge.
I took a deep breath, shut my eyes again and immediately regreted it. It's not everyday that a small, dark, and handsome guy watches you take a bath.
Next time I'm getting Batman.

If I Could Just Stop Time

2005-06-21T13:07:00.000-07:00

Some days I wish I could just permanently stop time and keep my kids the ages they are right now-7 and 3.

I usually feel this way as I’m peering down on their angelic (quiet) faces, watching them sleep late at night.
Am I the only one who stands there for a REALLY long time; staring at them a little too closely, trying to uncover the chubby baby face in the new “grown-up” one now lying on the pillow?
I know it’s completely irrational, but I kinda feel like they should be mine for good, and they somehow need to know that.
I planned and prayed to get them, I did all the carrying and strolling, and nursing and changing and bandaging and teaching.
Who says they get to just up and leave one day?
Okay, I know I sound like a crazy smother- mother who while in disguise, stalks her kids when they leave the house everyday. But honestly, I just want to keep them-is that so wrong?
The thing I fear most is that despite all the photos and videos, and journals I keep, I won’t remember , I mean really tangibly recall how simply amazing they are right now.
And even more heart breaking-that they won’t remember how they felt about me.
How I was one of their most favorite people to be with and play with. How they couldn’t wait to tell me when something really great or really awful happened to them. How sad they were when I simply walked out of the room. How mine was the name they called out in the middle of the night when they were scared or too hot or had to pee, and again first thing in the morning when they awoke. And how they often begged me to snuggle-up beside them so they could simply listen to me read.

As I mother my two little boys, I often think about how my mom must have felt about me, and how I obviously felt about her way back when I was 3 or 4.
I wonder if she ever searches for the baby face deep within the 35- year- old one I have now. Does she have memories of how I looked and smelled and laughed and sang when I was just a little girl? Is her heart distressed when she considers how far apart we so often feel now? I am pretty sure the answer to all these questions is a hardy yes.

So how do I help my boys to remember the way it was between us when they were all mine?
Will they even believe me when they hit those lovely teenage years?
Maybe I have to wait until they have children of their own. I think that’s the only way they’ll be able to fully grasp the intensity of my love for them, and how in love they used to be with me.
There’s sure to be a moment when they too find themselves staring down at little sleepy heads, and tiny tuckered-out bodies, wishing, just like me that they could just stop time.

Rolling the Dice

2005-06-04T05:22:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to my first Bunco party. Wow, a room full of girls (in this case other moms) laughing, screaming, talk,talk,talking, and just plain whooping it up! It was loud and fast and fun. The perfect girl activity for busy, over-worked moms. The oppurtunity to act like an unruly kid- throwing stuff, jumping from chair to chair, and hollaring. It was just too good!

It's so healthy to have an outlet for ourselves where we can feel like girls just out for a good time! The conversations I had were wildly funny, honest, and a bit revealing. Mostly we talked about nothing more than shoes and shopping and how we're gonna fit into that bikini this summer.
But there were also great moments of sharing how we deal with husbands who work 60 hours a week, and kids who we love so much but sometimes make us crazy. We also realized that we all shared a similar moment when our kids were babies. The desire to just run away from it all. Every wonderful, committed mom around the table said that there was a moment they wanted to fly away and hide and just sleep for three days. Man, it was great to listen to these moms who I know are great moms, and who from all appearances have it all, and realize how normal those crazy feelings are. I thought I was the only one who had ever asked their husband to let them get on the train and leave for awhile. It's so refreshing to be around people who are in the same boat as you, and be able to laugh at the ways we're all trying to keep our boats afloat, and sparkling.

And then with another role of the dice we were off again chatting up the best wrinkle creams, who thinks Tom Cruise has lost his mind, and where to find good deals on this summer's fad clothing.

In the midst of the chaos it became pretty clear that a little girl bonding is so good and so healthy and so needed in a Mom's life.

Just Try It On!

2005-05-31T12:38:00.000-07:00

I was lucky enough to sneak away this weekend for a little clothes shopping- BY MYSELF! I have taken my 3-year-old with me into dressing rooms before. It’s really fun for about fifteen seconds. Little ones often say the sweetest things-quite loudly. Like “what are those marks on your stomach mom?” And “what happened to your belly button?” What I want to say is YOU sweetie, you’re what happened to my stomach and belly button.
I always wish I had one of those three-second delay machines they use on live TV. Wouldn’t that be great? You could simply edit what the world was about to hear out of their yummy little mouths.
Anyway, as I was trying on some summer stuff, I overheard another mom having a conversation with her tweenager.. “Just try it on, you might be surprised!” said the mom. “No, I don’t like it! said the daughter.
I so remember my mom standing outside many a dressing room saying those very same words to me. They went back and forth saying those same lines over and over. Finally the mother, being very patient and calm said “you really should just try it on-the worst thing that happens is that you really do hate it and we’ll just put it back.” “But mom it is just sooo----- pre-school!” she replied.
I actually laughed out loud because well, how can you argue with that?
When I left, they were still knee deep in capris and tank tops, trying to sort it out.

Now, three days later I’m thinking about the whole concept of “just trying it on.” Why do we play it safe all the time?
One word--fear. Fear of looking stupid, fear of failing miserably.

I’m about to turn 35 in two days and I am finding I’m much more willing to “just try something on” without being afraid of looking utterly ridiculous. This theory goes for black leather pants, but more importantly it goes for all those things we tell ourselves we could never do. What’s the harm in just “trying it on”? As moms we are a constant example to the little people who live with us. I want my kids to see me take a few risks and jump out of my box once and awhile. I want them to be risk-takers too.
I want them to be unafraid to try something on first before they rule it out. This doesn’t go for helmet-free motorcycle riding, illegal drugs, joining a cult, or multiple body piercings. But I want them to be smart risk-takers. And I want them to know that it's honestly okay to try something, and look kinda silly at first.

So whatever it is for us as moms: playing the guitar, writing a book, singing in a band, running a marathon, wearing those sexy low-rise jeans, or just becoming a little more risky. Just try it on! The worst thing that happens is that you find out you really hate it, and ya put it back.

A Bit Of A Guilty Pleasure

2005-05-27T04:51:00.000-07:00

My seven-year-old came home from school on Wed. with a lovely case of Strep. throat. We immediately went into "sick-mode". The sheets went over the couch (he's one of those kids with a highly sensitive gag reflex), afternoon plans were cancelled, bed pillows, teddy bears, favorite blankets and cozy jammies came out.
My heart always breaks for their little flushed faces and droopy eyes. Having sick kids for the most part is just plain yucky. But, there's one part I feel a bit guilty saying I kinda love. It's the part where they let you hold them and baby them and for a few days your house is allowed to look like a hurricane blew thru. It's the permisson to have the TV and movies playing throughout the day, and an endless stream of popsicles and jello and Gatorade. There is something sort of comforting in the stacks of comic books and tissues. And we all cram on the couch together ready to weather the storm. My big boy who usually gives selective hugs now and never lets me pick him up or put on his pants for him, forgets all that and allows me to be his ultimate caregiver. And I love it.

Then by about day three, once the atibiotics have kicked in, no one's showered and we are all tired of lying around, We clean it all up, and charge ahead. I would never wish for my kids to get sick. But when they do, there are definately a few guilty pleasures to be had.

When My Worlds Collide: Mom vs. fashion statement

2005-05-26T12:22:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought it was safe to carry a girl purse again....
My little boys are three and seven-yipee! Gone are the days of jumbo diaper bags filled with baby gear. I finally don't feel like a walking pack horse. However,
The chocolate bar that I had successfully used to bribe my three-year-old son into getting into the pool for swimming lessons, melted all over the inside of my cute summer handbag! Just praising God that I hadn't decided to use my little pink Coach bag today! That's what I get for using chocolate as a weapon.