TEACH YOUR CHILDREN

When you become a parent, you sit awash with the fragrance of baby powder and the feel of soft, puffy baby feet unaware of what the future holds. But you're sure it will be sunshine and rainbows and you will have the happiest child in the world for you will love them and teach them well.

Then they get feet. Those lovely little baby feet become wheels. The bases upon which they will explore a new world, a few feet off the ground, where candy and houseplants and other fascinations live. You scold gently as they test the waters of defiance then, after countless tender admonishments, you drop your voice an octave or two and say "no". Those sweet baby lips pinch into a pout then....tear flow. Oh my God, what have I done? She hates me now. You remind yourself that it was for her own good but it still hurts to have caused your baby to cry.

The toddler years fly by with more scolds and tears. Teaching them that they must hold your hand to cross the street, explaining how much danger awaits until they learn to look both ways. As they enter their school years, you have less control over their daily lives and can only hope the lessons you've taught thus far will stay with them and keep them safe. Look both ways. Don't stand on folding chairs. Don't stand on chairs with wheels. Don't run with scissors. Don't. Don't. Don't.

There are ups and downs and it seems that the older they get, the more extreme the highs and lows. Until a day comes when you don't think you're getting through. As the judge, you meet out punishments then, fearing that in your anger you were harsh and they probably got the point, you allow furloughs. But the furloughs give way to the prisoner taking incarceration too lightly. Finally, you have to find something, an event, an occasion that must be taken away in order to get your point across. You hand down the decree. There is horror. There is devastation. You've made your point. They finally get it. Why don't I feel the power they think I enjoy? Why doesn't it feel better? Why didn't someone tell me parenting was this hard?!

I leave you with timely addition to the morning paper:

Out of the Nest and Into the Laundry Basket

I have to know. Am I the only working mom out there that folds their kids’ clothes? I realize that I’m somewhat OCD when it comes to domestic skills (that murmuring sound is my girls saying “SOMEWHAT?!”). I know there are families out there that are content to live out of huge piles of clean and sometimes sorted clothes. I was buying hangers today and the clerk said…”Nope, I don’t fold my kids clothes. I sort them and they’re on their own.”

When I went back to work full-time, I missed cooking. I missed keeping house. I didn't necessarily miss laundry but I still want it done right. And I don't want my kids doing their own if it means running a tub full of laundry to wash a pair of jeans. I fold clothes as they come out of the dryer since they’re warm and generally wrinkle-free at that point. Sometimes they get tumbled around in the dryer with damp towels for DAYS with a t-shirt getting folded here or there when I don’t have a lot of time to spend. I feel like I spend an inordinate amount of time with freakin’ TANK TOPS. It’s not like we live in Sacramento. These are tanks for LAYERING….ohhhhhhh. Crap! There are a bunch when they’re worn two at a time. And my babies are teenagers. They will throw a load in the wash on occasion but pretty much their laundry work beyond that is limited to pulling jeans out of the dryer to wear.

Am I the only dinosaur still alive? Is it time to teach them? I think so.

ENJOYING KIDS - NO REGRETS

I went to “Courage Night” last week. This week, Oprah had guests that were basically in the process of dying from cancer. The reoccurring theme seems to be “Living a Life with No Regrets”. It’s difficult to decide if the point is to not regret your past (since it made you who you are and you can’t unring the bell anyway….) or if you shouldn’t DO anything you’ll regret. I suspect it’s the former though both are good plans to live by. No sense crying over spilt milk goes without saying. Apologize for what you’re TRULY sorry for (especially if hurt feelings were involved) but don’t waste time with a flippant “sorry” that you don’t mean. Take a deep breath, buck up and move on.

You may have seen the essay about the date on a headstone showing the birth date and death date with the dash in between. The important part of life is how you spend that “dash”…I suppose we all worry about who will show up at our funeral or what will be said in our obituary. Not so morose if we give it thought BEFORE the time comes, while we still have time to modify what time we have left. I realized that the people whose opinions matter most are my girls.

Should a parent have to be reminded to enjoy their kids? Actually, when the kids are in their teens and beyond, we DO have to be reminded. When children are little and….more malleable….moldable, it’s easy to enjoy them. Even during the terrible twos and threes when they’re finding power in the word “NO”, you can balance a crazy day with them standing on a stool helping to mix cookies or rocking them to sleep or cuddling with a bedtime story. Once kids hit their teens, the talks are more serious and the nagging more frequent. The eye-rolling…oh don’t get me started with eye-rolling. You get so used to everything being a “teaching” opportunity that you forget to stop when they stop hearing you.

But, I am getting to a point where something Dr. Phil said has hit home. Kids reach a point where you’ve taught them all you can. You’ve given them every lecture and pointed out every flaw in their study-plan. At this point, all you can do is sit back and watch. Be there to celebrate the victories and hug them through the failures. At this point, they need to use all of the ammunition you’ve given them and make the best shot at the target that they can -- maybe even blast out the entire bullseye. Or as we say in our house…we have given them the rope. Now it’s up to them to water ski or hang themselves. I have no doubt they will water ski like champs.

HOLES IN THEIR HEAD

"As a mother, I’m only as happy as my unhappiest child” -- words spoken by a mother being interviewed on Oprah. She was discussing her youngest son's pain in dealing with his sister, Julia becoming his brother, Jake. There have been a number of shows on the transgender topic stemming from the current Oprah book club selection, Middlesex, which centers around a transgender character and past generations in his family. Anyway, the statement really struck a chord as I suppose it would in any parent.
On that note, here are Glo & Hope on a recent day of bonding at the piercing parlor. Hopefully I’ll edit this later with a picture of all three girls who all have new piercings to show off. Aah, kids!