As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I have an almost 13-year-old that is bringing the whole social media thing and her use of it to my forefront.  I  have several ideas running through my head on how to approach this, but I still have time.  I don’t think I am in denial, I just like to procrastinate. Ask Hubby if you don’t believe me.

Meg (said almost thirteen year old) has a blog. She started it not quite a year ago and reviews books, movies and a few random posts. She is an obsessive reader, likes to write and is currently writing her first novel, which I find amazing, I know I am a her mom, but it is amazing.  From time to time though she gets writers block and for some reason thinks it is my responsibility to help her through it.  This conversation just happened this morning:

Meg:  Mom, I don’t know what to write for my next blog. Tell me what to write. (Read in a whiny voice).

Mom: Write about Earth Day, write about your Silver Award project.

Meg:  I’ve tried and I cannot. I’ve tried and tried.

Mom:  Just start writing and throw out your first paragraph, a lot of writers do that.

Meg: I can’t, tell me what to write! (whiney voice is louder and more annoying)

Mom: (Watching a TV commercial about cars) Write about how you feel when you start daddy’s car in the morning. It could be a good father’s day gift for him.

Meg:  (Silence)

Mom:  (….ah silence)

This is what she came up with When I Start The Car.  I think she did a great job sharing her emotions and I am very happy that I was able to help her out for once. Maybe now she’ll listen to me sooner, but I doubt it.

 It is times like these that make me think she may be ready to dip her toe in the tumultuous ocean of social media.  Not because writing a good blog makes you savvy to the ways of Facebook, but because she has demonstrated that she can share her feelings effectively to the world (or me).  She writes, she proofreads, she edits. 

She recently sent a text that hurt her friend’s feelings. We were able to talk about how texting and emails don’t show the emotions that your voice does.  You cannot say somethings with a text. It’s just not done. A painful lesson, but on a smaller scale thankfully.  I cannot help but mourn for the girls who have texted much worse to people such as inappropriate pictures.  Our children have the whole world in their hands, literally. The power they have is daunting, yet we seem to let them treat it way too lightly.

To many I may be over thinking the social media thing. I may seem obsessive or over-protective with my kids. I cannot help but be careful with my girls though.  Social media is the way of the world.  Bosses are checking your Facebook page.  Colleges are tracking your movements.  Your social media footprint follows you much like your credit score, and  you have to protect it.  On top of that you have crazy people trying to meet with your children in hotel rooms (we have one of those down the street).

 I hope when Meg clicks post on Facebook she looks at her post not as a brief update on what she is doing after school, but as a little piece of her that she is sharing with the world. I hope she can look at it objectively and think “Does the world need to know this about me?” “Is this a safe thing to share?” “Would I share this with a stadium full of people?”  “Is this fair to other people?” “Will it hurt someone’s feelings?”  That is a lot of questions to go through someone’s mind, but with time and practice I think we can learn to take a double  look at our contributions to the world. Even if they are only 140 characters or a pin.

 

 

If you have yet to live with a twelve-year old, please read the following post carefully.  It could save your life or at the very least an unpleasant outburst of emotions, from you and the child you used to be able to tease.

Rule #1  Never look them directly in the eye when you know they are grumpy/psychotic.  The glare from them can freeze you on contact.

Rule #2  When you are aware of said grumpiness, say as little as possible. Don’t try to fix it or make a suggestion. When needed to inform them of something important, make it very informal and indirect (while not looking at them)  for example:  “Lunch box is on the table.” Is much better than “Sweetie, I put your lunch box on the table by your backpack. Please don’t forget it.”  That last statement may just make them leave their lunch box on purpose.

Rule #3 When later that day your twelve-year-old is happy, humming and the sweet child you remember DO NOT ASK THEM WHAT WAS WRONG EARLIER!  They will revert back to grumpy. Just be happy that they are happy and get some hugs in while you can!

Rule #4  The rules change day by day and sometimes hour by hour. Do your best and remember that someday they will enjoy your company, help and support.  At least I have been told this. I hope they just weren’t saying it to give me hope…..

 

 

Artwork credit

 

Dear World,

My kids do own clean clothes. They also have coats and gloves.  They own and have demonstrated proper use with a toothbrush and a hair comb.

I recently made a pledge to myself to send my children off to school with more love than nagging. Thus instead of my normal “It’s January in  Ohio, get over it and where your heavy coat” song and dance I have been trying to say things like, “Mommy loves you and doesn’t want you to be cold.” In a soft voice that is much like Mary Poppins or Ma Ingalls. 

This recent pledge has backed me into a corner and given me little room to maneuver or manipulate. So you may see my almost twelve year old wearing her pajama shirt today,”No one will know it’s a pajama top mom.” Says Her.  Little does she realize that everyone who has been to Walmart after Christmas and seen the 50% off pajama section will know.  I did complement the shiny, red sequined head band she is wearing with said pajama top.

I know that the announcements the schools send out go to everyone, but I see them as personal failures.

” Dear Parent, please make sure your children have appropriate cold weather wear so they can play outside.” 

“Dear School, I have provided cold weather outerwear for my kids and send them off to school with it.  Check the backpacks and pockets for the items you need that they say they don’t have.  I’m not sure why but my children feel the need to be cold. Please feel free to speak with them on this subject as they cannot hear my words on the subject, it must be a communication flaw.”

I’m not sure what I am doing wrong/different from the parents who get their kids to wear not only appropriate attire, but matching and cute attire as well.  Pants, shirts and  head bands that match and coordinate? How do you do such a thing? Is it genetic or maybe you torture your kids? Am I cursed because I refused to wear a dress for my mother from the ages of 3-14? Or maybe because I wore all black for three years and threatened to shave my head bald? Or maybe it is because I used to change at school into my shirts with skulls and crossbones that my mom wouldn’t let me wear? Or maybe it is because for a few years as a pre-schooler I claimed I was a boy? 

I hope the curse will end soon, or my kids will learn to like being clean and warm. Until then,  take pity on me and ignore what my children wear today to school.  Please?  I will owe you one.

Sincerely,

A mom who is trying not to nag

 

 

 

 

 

My four girls.  Meg, Mita, Enu and Elle. Sometimes they are four peas in a pod. Sometimes. Other times, I’ll be blunt here, most times they are a circus act.  Hubby and I often say to ourselves, “They are so easy when there are only three of them.  What is it when you add a fourth?”  The funny thing is that it doesn’t matter who you take out of the equation, who has the play date away from home or is at a Girl Scout event.  No matter what three girls are home, they get along better than when they are all four together.  This has been a question we continue to ponder as we raise the girls.

Well, low and behold I have found a resource that assures us that we are not in fact crazy.  There is scientific evidence that raising four girls is the hardest family combination. The Telegraph just published the following article:  Want to be happy? Have two daughters.  Here is a quote  from the article that describes what I have lived:

“It also emerged two girls rarely annoy their parents, make limited noise, often confide in their parents and are unlikely to wind each other up or ignore each other By contrast, doubling the number of daughters is likely to lead to a whole world of pain, the report found.”

While the words World of  Pain may seem harsh the the average reader, I can say that I have felt world of pain before. You see, I had that so-called perfect combination. Hubby and I had two daughters.  Five years a part.  I had it easy I must tell you. Meg was the text book oldest child. Over-achiever, helpful, fearless and compassionate. When Elle came along, Meg was about to enter Kindergarten. I had Meg to myself for five years and then Elle and I had our one on one life when Meg was at school.  I am a big proponent for spacing your children for this reason alone.  I had great one on one time with both girls. Meg was independent while I was busy doing the baby thing with Elle.  Two girls were cake to me. I was able to work two days a week, provide insurance for the family and take care of my home.

Something was up in my heart though. I wanted more kids. I wanted to do the adoption that I had been dreaming about for decades. I wanted to open our home up and parent a parent-less child.  I had assumed that Hubby would want a boy to round out our family. He insisted that girl would be a better fit as we already had two and that our house was small. They could share a room if needed and we would save money on hand-me-downs and toys.  We had it all worked out, Hubby and I!

The how we ended up deciding on growing our family from two girls to four is a long 500 word post in itself for another day. The reality is that now we have four girls. Ages 11 1/2, 11, almost 9 and 6.  Using the word drama doesn’t even begin to describe their interactions. Everything is an issue. EVERYTHING.  This is something that most people do not understand. To have four girls is to become an expert on childhood politics.  I could run for Senator with the skills of negotiations and peacemaking I have learned in the last three years.

A crisis can emerge from a simple hair band.  A misplaced earring can throw my family into a day of hell. I. Am. Not.Joking.

I have taken a list from the above mention article and have made my own comments to it.

1.Fight and argue all the time (Yes and yes. It doesn’t matter over what, they just have to be mad about something.)

2.Difficult to reason with (Reason? What is that. You can not reason with emotionally charged sisters.  Then add the PMS! Reason….)

3.Ignore and dislike each other ( It is amazing how they can hate each other one minute and be best friends the next.)

4.Bedtime routine is a nightmare (We stagger bedtimes and this has helped TREMENDOUSLY.)

5.Create a lot of noise around the house  (If my house is quiet the girls are not here.)

6.Rarely confide in you (Yes with two of them, the other two still let me in on stuff. I think.)

7.Hard to deal with when ill (If I get ill they actually act okay for me. If they are ill, we actually get more one-on-one time. God has blessed us in that they have not all been sick at the same time. He knows I couldn’t handle it!)

8.Takes ages getting ready for school (This is getting more evident as they turn into tweens. The straight-iron is on full force in the AM.)

9.Had to buy a bigger house and car (Yes and yes.)

10.Hard to cope with on a daily basis (I have gone mad. Literally. I am a low-key person the daily drama has done more harm to my person than anything else in my life. I stopped working two years ago because of the daily life grind.)

As an adoptive family, I have often blamed our problems on adoption issues. We adopted older children and messed up the birth order for three of the four girls.  After reading this article I now think that maybe our struggles would have happened anyway, just in having four girls. This is something interesting to think about, and maybe I can let go of some of the mama guilt I’ve felt. There is comfort in knowing that this truly can be a tough situation and not just me lacking.

Would I do it again if I had read this article? Yes. I would have laughed haughtily  at this article if I had read it three years ago. I would have rolled my eyes and made a comment about how people need to get a life and do real research.

I love my girls with a fierce mother-bear love that consumes me. I also roar like a bear more than I should. My stress level is all whacked out and I am not always the best parent in the world.  I am trying. On the really hard days I envision life fifteen years from now.  When the girls are out of college, starting lives and families.  We are all laughing about the crazy times growing up. In this vision they are strong, they love each-other and they are friends.  I have to believe that.

There is nothing in this world better to hear than the sound of my four girls laughing together. It happens, not often, but it happens and for that reason alone I would do it all over again.  They make me happy.

*Hey check out the post Jenna posted on Blogher about this article!

 

As I mentioned in my Advent Quilt post, not one of my 25 activities involved a craft.  This was intentionally done as I HATE crafts and am really BAD at them.  Then in my infinite fallibility, I changed plans. I found this great Star Wars snowflake pattern.  How could I mess up a snowflake?  Well, I can and did.

Here is what they were supposed to look like:

                                                  

Here is what mine look like.

Case closed. Never again. Until I forget.  If you would like to find the pattern and try them yourself click here. Please don’t show off your success though!

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We always seem to want a reason.  We want things to make sense and not leave us wondering.  During a time when all the information you would ever need is a Google away, it seems that the answers to the big questions are farther away than ever.  Or maybe we are so spoiled with finding out things quickly that we cannot handle the big questions with no answers.

My cousin recently died at 49 years of age, leaving a wife, two daughters and many extended family members.  To young, to smart, to funny to die.  No reason, just cancer. A very rapid, fast growing cancer that gave him less time with us on Earth. No explanation can satisfy the whys of it all.

My mom was diagnosed with Dermomycytosis a few weeks ago. A debilitating, possible chronic disease that has her very weak and at times in a lot of pain. She can no longer work, but wishes she could. No reason for this diagnosis, it just happened.

My father-in-law is struggling with advanced prostate cancer and is in Hospice. The pain is horrible, the wasting away a misery. It is easy to become bitter.

One of my daughters was crying on the floor tonight yelling to God,”I’ll do anything, I want my mom back.”  How I can I explain something to a child that I am not even sure of myself?

Last week I was talking with another daughter and told her that in a perfect world we would never even know each-other, but the world isn’t perfect and since it isn’t  I’m so blessed to be able to be her mom.  What kind of conversation is that?

When things like death and illness happen our need for an explanation can change us. We can become hardened to life and deny all good. We can hate God and all the comfort He can bring. We can dive into finding an explanation of any kind, that can bring any comfort so much that we may lose who we are.

We all have different beliefs even if our faith is in the same vein.  I hate hearing things like “It was God’s plan.” “God needed him more than we did.” “We all have a reason to be on this Earth and his was done.”  I know that these words may bring comfort to some. I don’t want to belittle them. I, however, believe that God didn’t plan for Steve to die so young, my mom to become ill, my father in law to die painfully, two of my kids to lose a mother and a country.

Things happen in this life, in this world. God is here to comfort, support and love us. I do believe in miracles and have to be careful not to get to jaded to see them.  We will never know all of the whys in this world and we don’t have to.  If we forget the struggle to understand and make sense of things maybe we can go on and live our lives the best way we can.

This past weekend at a Christmas program they sang Peace On Earth by Casting Crowns.  It stick in my head and helps me with my none-understanding.  You can click on the song title above to listen.

 

 I used pride myself on being flexible, going with the flow and not sweating the small stuff. Now that  I am a mom (of four!)I seem to be turning into a persnickety person.  I don’t really want to be like this, it just happened I guess.   Maybe all the nagging I do to my children caused me to nag at others as well?  Anyway. I am what I am.

Twice in the past two weeks I have gone through a  drive through of a fast food place that I pretty much hate, but has good ice tea.  I ordered my tea and a soda for whatever kid(s) were with me.  I ordered them a regular sized soda.  REGULAR was enunciated clearly and even repeated.  When I pulled up the kid’s drinks were large. Very, very large. Like so large that they would float the rest of the way home and have enough calories in them to live on for weeks large.  I nicely, or so  I thought, told the person that I ordered regular sized sodas. Her response was,”All sizes are $1 right now.”  I told her I understood this, but that my kids didn’t need sodas that large (side bar: my kids didn’t need sodas at all, I know) and that I would like the regular sized drinks.  Please. I said please!  She gave them to me and didn’t say any other words to me at all. No “Have a nice day. No, I’m sorry for the mix up.”  I think she probably flipped me the bird when I pulled off. This conversation happened twice in two different restaurants and with two different people.

So, I am I picky? Would you have asked for the regular size? Am I thinking about this to much?

Photo Credit

 

Dear Children,

It doesn’t matter how old, or young, you may be.  It is never to early to learn one of the greatest secrets in life.

Do you want your parents to say “Yes” more often? Do you want to have more fun, less yelling and incredulous looks?  Read closely and I will tell you all you need to know…

Timing is everything.

That’s right. Timing.  It isn’t completing chores (though that does help), it isn’t saying please (though that does help), it isn’t even smiling and asking about your mom’s day (though that would bowl her over)  it is all about TIMING.

Some Examples:

You want to have a friend over to play.  Your Mom is in the bathroom with the door shut and your Dad is not home.  Which would you do?

A.  Knock on the door and ask to come in.

B. Open the door and walk right in asking the question and yelling at your sister at the same time.

C. Yell from downstairs and don’t stop yelling until Mom comes to you.

D.  Wait for your mom patiently to get out of the bathroom and make her bed while waiting.

You guessed it… D is the  answer.  Let your mom go to the bathroom alone.  She is more likely to say yes to you :)  Try it and see.

It is Friday afternoon.  School is out for two days and all you want to do it relax and play.  You know you have to bring some stuff to school on Monday that you need help from your parent with.

A. You get in the car after school and tell your mom everything you need before saying hello (and while your three sisters are doing the same thing).

B. You decide to wait and tell her on Sunday night at 10pm when you should be in bed asleep already.

C.  Monday morning rolls around and your Mom tells you to get into the car for school.  After she is buckled and the door is locked you tell her that you need a few things.

D.   You get home after school and help your mom get the after school snacks ready while asking her to help you with your projects.

D is it again!  Mom’s like help.  Mom’s like to have notice. Remember these things and she will say yes more!

Your parents do not want to say no all the time. This may be hard to believe, but most Moms and Dads want to help their children, spend time with them and in general, make them happy.  Stress gets in the way of saying yes.  If you find out what times are less stressful on your parents, they will say yes more. 

Last example:

Your mom is cooking dinner, going through you and your sister’s back packs, packing lunches fo the next day and organizing the next Girl Scout meeting on the phone.  Your dad is working on the flower beds and you want to shave your legs for the first time.

A. You got into the kitchen and stand three inches away from your mom and follow her around until she puts down the fun and yells “What do you need?!”

B.  You go outside and tell your Dad that Mom is busy and you need to shave, is it okay with him.

C. You see your mom is busy and decide to shave first and ask later.  Later then becomes sooner, since you are hemoraging all over the carpet on your way back downstairs to ask Mom where the bandaids are and how much blood can you loose before passing out.

D.  You don’t ask and wait until you actually have some hair on your legs to shave.

D is again the best answer!  Sorry my dear!

This advice is FREE. Please use it. Frequently. 

Sincerely,

Your Mother

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo Credit

 

 

I cried yesterday.  It was a hard morning.  The girls (all four of them) were fighting a lot over really important things like who said, “Butt head” and “Who ate what candy when”.  It was not the best day for me.  After throwing all the candy away (Have I mentioned that I am a mean mom?)  I went off to make dinner.

This dinner was labor intensive.  I do not like to cook AT ALL.  I cannot stress that enough.  I was making Doro Wat (a spicy Ethiopian chicken stew) and Ethiopian split peas.  The prep time alone was over an hour and I was not feeling the love.

When the kids came in with yet another complaint,  I just started to cry.  Talk about stunned kids.  Their arguement was no longer that important.  I finished my prep work, took a long hot bath and took a nap with my setting at 25.  For those of you that do not have a Sleep Number bed, 25 is very, very soft.  At 25 I can crawl into fetal position and go off to dreamland quite easily.  I cannot sleep for hours like that, but a good strong nap is possible.  My normal number is 40 for those of you dying to know!

I awoke an hour or so later to see a “I’m sorry”  note on my bed.  My floors had been vacuumed and my laundry folded.  Elle even polished the dining room table for me! 

My day was great after that.  My kids know when enough is enough and how to make mommy feel better.  They are still far from perfect, but yesterday proved that they are not the insane monsters they had acted like that morning.

That is good new!

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