I’m not much for blow drying my hair. I’m a wash and go kinda person.  My hair does look a lot better when I blow dry it, but my appearance has never been a top priority for me. Obviously.

I love blow drying the girls’  hair though.  I always ask to dry it and love combing through the golden brown straight hair, scrunching up the dark brown curls or lately, straightening those dark brown curls.  It is a great time of pampering and showing love through the power of touch.  The girls tend to say  no though. They hate me playing with their hair, or so it seems.  When I am allowed to dry their hair I am so happy and could stand there forever brushing, combing and just being with my girl.

The other day I was at my mom’s house. She put some color over these strange gray hairs that keep appearing along my scalp.  After I had rinsed my hair, mom said “Let me blow dry your hair.”  My first reaction was to say no, I wasn’t going to bother with it. Then her look of Please put me in my place.

She is my mom. She gets enjoyment from me. Gray haired, thirty-six year old me gives her happiness, just as my girls make me so happy when I can pamper them a bit. Wow. What a lovely, humbling thought.

What makes this even sweeter is that my mom was able to raise her arms to handle a blow dryer. Just a few months ago, her illness made it impossible to hold up a dryer for even a few minutes at a time.  She is doing so much better now.  I am so blessed to have my mom as I am reaching the age where others around me are losing parents. A scary, horrifying thing that I cannot even think about.

So yes mom, you may blow dry my hair anytime you wish. And if my kids are reading this, which I know isn’t likely to happen, please know that it is so much more than blow drying your hair.

 

 

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So the bad news is that I am neurotic and the good news is that apparently my condition is getting better.

Nine years ago Hubby surprised me with a seven-day cruise to the Western Caribbean.   When I say surprised, I mean total shocker. We hadn’t talked about it or anything, I just opened up my Valentines card and there it was.  Lovely man, I know.

Nine years ago I only had one little one. Meg was about three.  I was still perfect mom. You know what I mean, I did it all right and I could tell anyone how to raise a perfect kid.  Meg was a dream child in so many ways and I attributed it to me. Hubby too. But Me.

I was a wreck about leaving her. I was sure we would die on the plane and not be around to enjoy watching her grow up. I was positive that a week with her grandmas would spoil my perfect child.  So I did what every perfect mom would do and I created a pamphlet, yes a pamphlet, for the grandmas.  The title of the pamphlet was: How to Raise A Meg.  Really, that is what I called it.

The trip came and went, all was well.  Apparently my perfect child at one point jumped up on the counter and called my father in law a “lily-livered-codfish”. I, of course, thought that she was a genius for reciting  Peter Pan (a personal favorite) but my father in law wasn’t impressed!  She did fine and was not spoiled forever, we lived to see her again and the pamphlet was forgotten.

Until last night.  Going through old pictures, by mom showed it to me at our Super Bowl get together.  Oh my gracious. How embarrassed was  I?  Reading this pamphlet was eye-opening. I must have been an obnoxious bitch of a mom at that time.  I am able to laugh at myself, but it was enlightening to see how condescending I was back then.  At least I hope it was back then.

We are leaving for Hawaii on Sunday.  When I say we I mean, Hubby and I. That lovely man did it again and surprised me on my birthday last year.   The kids are staying  home   mostly with my mom.  My mom in law and my sister-in-law on deck to help out as needed.  I’ve called in a few favors to help with the picking up and dropping off that is needed with school age kids.  There will be no pamphlets this time around as I do not have the time to make four of them, nor is there room on a piece of paper to explain all the craziness in my head that is parenting.  I do have a schedule made out, a menu planned, general rules for the girls and the necessary permissions for my mom, dad and mom in law to take care of the kids.

So the good news is that I am no longer, neurotic mom.  Or maybe it’s not that I’m no longer neurotic, it’s just that I don’t have time or energy to be. Hmmm.

 

Watching the girls grow up is downright amazing.  I’ve said in the past that when they are small you are so exhausted and tired of saying “no”, of doing the diaper thing, the potty training thing, the sharing thing that you tend to not pay attention or appreciate fully the gains. You are just  happy to be through them.

As they get older and the achievements are more out of the hygiene realm, watching them grow, learn and become who they are meant to become is nothing less than miraculous.  I have found that every morning they come out of their rooms one step closer to adulthood and it makes me want a pause button in some ways and an applause button in other ways.

Where did Meg, long-legs Meg, get her confidence?  Both Hubby and I didn’t have great self-confidence growing up, yet she is strong, solid and humble in her self.  I’ve had teachers and other adults tell me how kind she is and how she isn’t a braggart in her accomplishments.

Mita. My dear Mita has blossomed into a young woman (seriously, have you seen her?!). She is quiet and works so hard. She is reading up a storm and is a straight A student. Straight A’s for a child who four years ago knew no English!   Her room is her castle and she loves to clean it and take pride in her appearance. The outfits she puts together dazzle and are stunning. How does she make sweats look glamorous?!  Her heart. Her heart has had more sorrow than many have had in a lifetime, and yet she is healing.  She gives me spontaneous hugs and I love yous. She calls me Mommy sometimes.  I love to just stare at her. She doesn’t like that so much though!

Enu. Enu is the child who is teaching me patience and perseverance.   She is growing by leaps and bound physically and emotionally.  She is finding herself slowly, but it is happening. She is great with young kids and as of right now she is helping me watch my niece. She will be a great babysitter in just a few years. Her smile is contagious, and she really is quite funny.  It will be great to watch her harness her energy in the years to come.

Elle.  Elle is my elfin fairy for sure.  She is now seven and  I look at what Meg was like at seven and they are so different yet alike.  Elle is becoming very funny, almost a dry sense of humor in some ways. Her comebacks make Hubby and I look at each other and smile. She can take care of herself  just fine in a pack of four sisters!  She still plays with toys, which makes me sooooo  happy.  For Christmas she got an iPod and a Lalaloopsy doll and she will walk around playing with both at the same time.  She still cuddles which makes me think she will always be a cuddler! Yeah!  My baby reads. My. Baby. Reads.

Watching my girls grow is truly a pure delight.  I am overwhelmed with how fast everything is going. Meg is talking about college (of course she has always talked about college, but now I picture it happening!).  Hubby and I find ourselves talking about a third car for the girls to share.

I know that talking about your kids growing up is a well-worn topic. I’ve heard for years how it goes by quickly.  It makes me ache that this is so true but at the same time I love, love, love watching them learn, grow and burst into the world.  If I have anything to do with how wonderful these children are it is my greatest honor in life.  My work is done, everything else is a bonus.

 

This post will be 2G2B4G, I promise!

Yes, we have another topic to cover in order to parent our kids correctly.  Not only are we having to talk about sex, alcohol and drugs, but we must talk about sexting and texting while driving.  The check list just keeps getting longer. The good news is that we no longer have to talk to our kids about pulling out the ribbons on cassette tapes or wasting film by opening up the backs of camera.

Let’s look at some statistics shall we:

  •  45% of teens admit to texting and driving but only 4 percent of parents believe their teens have ever texted while driving. (LG Stats)
  • Drivers who type or read text messages contribute to at least 100,000 crashes each year, leading to thousands of preventable deaths. (FocusDriven.org)

Numbers don’t lie and we mustn’t lie to ourselves.   Our kids learn best by example. We have to make sure we are not texting while driving and using our cell phones carefully when we are behind the wheel.  We can tell them a million times not to text and drive, but if they see us do it: Our words don’t mean anything!

In San Diego , MomOutnumbered and I got to go to a fun cocktail party hosted by LG with spokesperson Jane Lynch.  On top of being a party with amazing food and drinks, we got the 411 (do kids still say that?) on texting and driving as well as what some of the letters that our kids use frequently mean.  4COL I learned a lot.  The LG site  is not only a great resource on texting and driving but it goes into sexting, bullying and also on how we as parents can use the texting technology to help us in our parenting. It is an easy site to navigate and is worth a few minutes to read I promise!

MomOutnumbered

On a personal note: Jane autographed a picture for Mita and read the letter Mita had written her and given to me to give to Jane. (Mita is in love with Jane, I don’t know why, I don’t let her watch Glee  (story lines are a bit racey for an eleven year old) but Mita is celebrity obsessed so…) Mita is head over heels happy and I thank Jane for being so kind, I almost WMPL I was so happy.

So, tell the truth. Do you still text and drive?  Have your kids called me on it?  Mita has insisted she saw me do it once, I don’t remember honestly, but never again!

2G2B4G = To good to be forgotten

4COL = For crying out loud

WMPL = Wet my pants laughing

 

(Disclosure:  I was not asked to write about LG or this event, but the subject matter is important for all of us and I was happy to share what I had learned. I did not receive any compensation for this post, but the party really did have great coconut shrimp!)

 

 

 

 

One thing that I have been putting off  is writing about the girls growing into teens.  Yes, I know on the calendar my oldest two are put  at eleven and eleven three-quarters (October is coming up fast!) but in reality the teen years are upon us.

Like it or not, my kids are growing up a bit faster than I had to. At age eleven I didn’t comb my hair very often and could care less about clothes.  I hadn’t had a crush on a celebrity yet and it would be three years before I started to obsess about music and all things Johnny Depp.   On the flip side I was not as well-travelled, well-read or outgoing as they are now.  I know that not all change is bad or necessarily good; it is just change.

So I think I will start writing a bit on parenting my girls as they grow.  Starting first with how I am navigating the waters of weight, dieting and appearances with growing girls.

Lately I have been hearing comments from my girls like “My thighs are big” “I’m fat” “If I skip breakfast I won’t gain weight”. These are coming from all four of the girls ages six to eleven.  I have made a conscious effort not to talk like this myself, and while I’m not perfect at it I am sure that most of these comments are stemming from people at school and some bad media that gets by my mommy-standards.

When I go running I talk about being healthy not about losing weight. We try not to say fat and skinny even in jest now.   I had been planning on teaching girls more about serving sizes this summer.  There are always fresh fruit and veggies on the table, I limit the junk food (though it shows up more than I would like somehow.).  I am trying to get it right, though I know that there is no one set way to do it right, especially with four different girls.   Who came up with the phrase get it right anyway…

In pursuit of advice  I read Good Girls don’t Get Fat by Dr. Robyn Silverman.  I have followed her awhile on Twitter and Facebook and really like what I learn from her.  She is also an adoptive mom of two small kiddos.  The book is an excellent read for parents of girls and teachers. It reviews everyday parenting at the dinner table and touches on the subject of bullying in the classroom.

The book is packed with studies, examples and great advice.  Just a few things I took away from the book that make me glad I read it:

1)  When moms say things,girls remember.  Even a poorly worded complement (you look like you lost weight) can effect how a girl feels about weight.  We are all going to say things wrong sometimes without meaning to, but I think I need to pay attention to every word I say about weight and health. I need to make sure that I regularly give praise to the girls about how lovely they are to off-balance the stupid things that sometimes come out.

2) Listen to what the girls are saying and answer with what they need.  Saying “don’t be silly everyone looks different” to a girl when she says “My body looks funny” is not helpful.  We need to say.  Your body is amazing. Your healthy and active and your body will take you to amazing places!

3)What dad’s say and do matter. The cute nick-names of the toddler days like chubby cheeks should be put to rest.  Girls are watching and listening to what dad says. So dads should watch what they say just as much as moms.  If your daughter hears negative comments about plus-size women she is going to process it and possibly take it to heart if she feels she is plus-size as well. 

4. Learn how your girls think and what motivates them. Trash talking does not work as a motivator for most girls.  Girl internalize things, so while telling a boy he runs like a grandma would push him to run faster, a girl may just stop running. 

 Of course the advice above that  I gleaned from Dr. Robyn’s book can be put to topics other than weight.

After finishing the book I decided not to talk about the serving size thing directly with my girls.  I’m just going to dish out the proper serving sizes and be casual about it.  I’m going to go with uplifting words, good examples and a lot of prayer. 

My only real concern about the book was the title. I was afraid the girls would read it and take it literally. I told them that the title was an eye-catching way to get people to pick up the book, and that the book was about making sure girls of all body types feel good about themselves.  I still was tempted to rip off the cover though!

I highly recommend Good Girls Don’t Get Fat to read and if you are local, I’ll lend it to you!

 

 

(Disclosure: I bought the copy of this book and was not asked to review it.)

 

One of four offenders.

I should say many someones have  forgotten their job description.

Job descriptions are very necessary for making the world go round.  My girls are not following theirs.

For example my children’s job description goes like this:

Child must let said parent dance, sing or tickle them awake if child does not pop out of bed on time.  Clear as day right! I’m not sure how they can not get this easily.

Other ammendments are as follows:

Child must tell parent of a need (lunch money, homework, agenda signing) directly upon returning home from school. It is not acceptable to tell parent of need as they leaving the house to jump on the bus the next morning.

Child has  the responsibility to make sure they are  bathed and fresh smelling for the rest of the world. Parents may enforce this rule as needed.  Others do notice body odor, I promise you children.

Child must never roll eyes at or shrug off parental suggestions.    These acts cause parents to malfunction and yelling may result (which is totally in their job description, see article XXIIV part F in the parent job description.)

Dear children, you are loved and adored. Now shape up or your in a world of hurt. Hurt like no trips to Dairy Duchess or the playground until you are like 24.

 

1215808_coloured_daisyToday I dropped my eldest three princesses at school.  It was raining, chilly and pretty darn miserable outside.  In the sea of umbrellas and hoods, the girls stuck out with their uncovered heads.  I admit I did cringe as I watched them walk away. Not because they were getting wet, but because I’m sure all of the teachers were thinking what a bad mother I was for letting my kids get wet.

Maybe it’s just my personality or that my kids are especially stubborn, but I cannot teach them responsibility.  They have to learn it themselves.   I could have handed them umbrellas and coats this morning or let them use mine to get into school dry.  If  I had done this however, come Monday morning they would be waiting for me to do the same. Today they will get wet, and hopefully remember from now on not to leave their umbrellas and jackets at school in their lockers.

I’m not as heartless as I sound. At breakfast this morning I mentioned the weather and the chill and told them all to dress appropriately.  I even gave some hints as they were dressing this morning. I don’t want my kids to be cold, but I also know that when they go off to college that their dorm leader won’t be chasing after them with their coats and umbrellas and water bottles.

Both Hubby and I have worked with and known individuals who need taken care of.  Adults who never learned responsibility and are floundering through life blaming everyone else for their troubles.  I want my kids to be able to take care of themselves.  They are learning how to do the laundry, dishes, vacuum and clean bathrooms.  They are learning that a house doesn’t run by itself and that a family works together to function at full speed.

There seems to be a lack of personal accountability with this generation that concerns me.  I hear teachers telling stories of helicopter parents who are calling to get their kids grades changed, who don’t care what their child is learning as long as they get the “A” needed for college. I’ve read an article about a college professor who has parents calling him about their child’s grades…these are adults here who are being treating like elementary school kids.

One day Mita left her backpack at her grandma’s house. Instead of getting on yellow in her class as the rules state, the teacher let her off and consoled her.  This taught Mita only that rules don’t really matter and that the teacher won’t do what she says she will do.  Did I want Mita to get on yellow and get yelled at? No, I wanted her to get on yellow and learn that she needs to remember her backpack, and have her teacher tell her, “Hey, you forgot your backpack, your on yellow, but I know you’ll remember it tomorrow.”

So if you see my kids running around in outfits that don’t match or charging their lunch because they forgot to bring their lunchbox, please don’t think I’m a unfit mom. I’m a mom watching my kids make little mistakes in hopes that they won’t make big mistakes when they really count.

*Disclaimer*  I would never let my kids freeze and do stop them from harming themselves and others!

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