I was just snuggling in the bed with Vivian, talking about how she is turning five soon when, out of the blue, she dropped the Disney World bomb on me…
“Mama, I want to go to Disney World.” Then, she leaned into my ear and whispered, “If you let me go to Disney World, I will let you have a piece of wine and coffee when we get back home.”
My how the bribery tables have turned!
If you know me well, you know that patience is not my virtue…and I’m not a morning person. Naturally, school mornings in our house are festive to say the least, as are Saturday game days and Sunday church mornings. Okay, every morning is rough. Did I also mention that I have 3 little girls? There are a lot of wardrobe malfunctions, fighting, and yelling to get through the morning routine. Yes, I said routine. It’s the same thing, every morning, yet my girls wake up in a brand new world every day.
On Valentine’s Day, we were all getting ready for the last basketball game of the season…and running late. On the annual day of love, amid the hectic morning, my family informed me that I am a nag. Romantic, I know. You see, I had been asking and asking (and asking and yelling) to pick up their things, to get dressed, to stop fighting, to put on clothes suitable for winter, to brush their teeth, to put their dirty clothes in the hamper, to brush their hair, to put their toys in the toy room, and… you get the point.
Naturally, I protested and let their daddy get them ready. Rather than repeating myself, I simply took all of the things I had been asking them to pick up and put them in an empty hamper. I also let them go to the game rocking the first ponytail attempt by their daddy.
When we returned from the ball game, they realized that their American Girl dolls, favorite sweatshirts, toys, books, etc. were gone. I showed them the hamper and told them the new rule, “I ask once to pick up your things and after that, I simply put it in the hamper and you have to do a chore to get each thing back.”
Sweeping the entry to get her American Girl doll. Parenting like a boss.
The rule had been helping, but mornings were still rough. So, I decided to give up yelling at my kids and losing my patience with them for Lent. Naturally, Ash Wednesday was a snow day. Thursday was a snow day. Friday was a snow day. That’s right, 3 consecutive snow days. My husband is a bit worried about my sanity, but so far I haven’t yelled at my daughters. Day 4…only 36 more to go.
Planning ahead for next year.
I didn’t realize that I was celebrating Mardi Gras at the dance studio until I just happened to check my planner. I used to celebrate Mardi Gras and leave Lent and Ash Wednesday for the Catholics, but last year, I chose to observe Lent. I gave up chocolate, soda, and Bourbon. Yes, all three. I now know that 40 days is a long time.
Very long, like I would ask to just smell my husband’s bourbon or the girls’ chocolate. By the time Easter arrived, all I wanted to do was binge on chocolate Cadbury eggs and have a Woodford Reserve with a splash of coke. It was solemn, but not exactly a religious observation.
I spent this snowy Ash Wednesday helping my Lydia with her Abraham Lincoln report, all the while considering what to give up for Lent. I have decided to give up impatience with my girls. It sounds crazy, I know, but with 3 strong-willed divas with unlimited energy, I will be spending a lot of time in prayer to keep from raising my voice or losing my patience…especially while getting ready on school days.
Feel free to give me a shout out in your prayers.
Valentine’s Day has become a bit of a retail holiday, but I still love the chance to remind people of our love. We always enjoy our church family dinner, our girls exchange Valentines, class parties, lots of sugar, greeting cards meant just for you, and flowers. It can also be a day of disappointment and unfortunate comparison. As a mom of all girls, I experienced my first Valentine’s Day dilemma.
My oldest, Sofia, received a sweet little stuffed animal from one of her friends. While I am not a big stuffed animal fan, it was from a friend and not a little boy. We dodged the third grade girl drama. Parent victory. Short-lived parent victory, but I’ll take what I can get.
After school, my first grader and youngest in pre-K had a Valentine’s Day party recap. Ignorance truly is bliss, people. My first grader was enjoying the usual class Valentines and party food, looking forward to the weekend celebrations with family, when my youngest dropped a bomb on us. My four-year-old, my youngest, the baby sister, was given a stuffed animal and earrings. Come again?!
My youngest with her big girl dangle earrings from a boy. Definitely a traumatic experience. Parenting defeat on Friday the 13th.
I tried not to react and simply asked what she said when the brave little boy gave her the gifts. She replied, “I told him thank you.” Another parent victory, she used her manners, quickly replaced with an inner monologue freak out.
‘Am I slipping? Surely I seem crazy enough to scare boys away. Should I have her 6’3″ daddy drop her off in the mornings? Do I need to have more cootie conversations? Seriously, jewelry?! Do I give it back and risk seeming rude? Do I simply let her wear them and not make a big deal? For the love, my baby got jewelry from a boy and I am not ready for all of this!’
I was quickly interrupted by the tears of my middle child. Wait, what?! “Vivian got earrings AND a stuffed animal! I didn’t even get a stuffed animal at school!” I reminded Lydia that it was only the 13th, that Valentine’s Day was only beginning. I also had her go with her daddy so I could take her big sister to get a stuffed animal. We are now the proud owner of a wiener dog with Valentine shorts and “I love long kisses” embroidered on its side…and earrings. Big girl dangle earrings, given by a boy to my little girl who still writes her ‘y’ backwards.
I lost my Uncle this Fall, the most amazing man whose love of life was an inspiration to all. Experiencing such an unexpected and devastating loss has truly shaken me. Amid my grief, I have acquired a renewed sense of urgency and gratitude. It is a struggle, but I have decided I must share the same love of life that my Uncle Beav happily shared with everyone he encountered.
For Christmas, we gave my Aunt two beautiful pendants. One of she and my Uncle during our last visit, in front of their “lake house” and the other of them with my cousin and their daughter-in-law at their baby shower. My sweet baby cousin was born a month after the sudden loss of her Poppy, so my hope was to give Sweet P the pendant of her parents and grandparents as a keepsake.
During a round of putt-putt golf, my Uncle joked and asked me to take a picture of them in front of their lake house.
My Aunt decided to get each of my girls a pendant with a picture from our last visit. It seemed fitting to present them with their surprise on his birthday. My girls were both delighted and overcome with sadness because they simply do not understand why we lost him at the young age of 56.
When I asked the girls to think of a sweet or funny memory, my youngest, nicknamed Squeaker by my Uncle, giggled. I asked her what made her laugh and she said, “Uncle Beaver used to say ‘Kiss me dahling’ before he gave us smoochers.”
Before they went to bed, I held their faces in my hands, reminded them that Uncle Beav lives on in their hearts, and said, “kiss me dahling”, then kissed them goodnight. They blew me a kiss, patted their hand on their heart, and told me they love me with all of their hearts, just as he did at the end of our FaceTime only a few days before he suddenly passed away.
We asked the girls to change out of their church clothes before going out to work on the farm and playing basketball. The girls had decided that they would like a tree house, so we told them we would all go and clear a place in the woods.
Sofia and Lydia came down in warm up pants and a T-shirt so they could go straight from helping in the woods to playing basketball at the school with friends. Vivian, on the other hand, came down in jeans and her cowgirl boots. She presented herself with a huge smile and a “ta-da” hand gesture, then said, “See. I just need a bucket.”
Naturally, my husband and I asked why our 4 year old needed a bucket. Vivian replied, “So I can milk the cows.” I laughed and informed her, “We don’t have any cows. Your aunt and uncle do, but we don’t. Plus, they don’t have dairy cows, their cows make meat.”
Disappointed, she went back to her toy room. She quickly returned with a purse and her Hello Kitty alarm clock. Not having a clue why she needed an alarm clock in the woods, I asked what she had planned. Vivian looked at me as though I should already know and replied, “I’m going to mow the yard.” She wasn’t happy when I pointed out that she is too young to mow the yard.
After a week of sickness, parties, church and school Christmas performances, Family visits, and the others festivities of Christmas and New Year’s Eve. I have decided that less is more. A couple of years ago we instituted a “Baby Jesus got 3 gifts and so can you” rule at Christmas.
As I have fought the uphill battle of fighting the 80’s child tendency to seek happiness in material things, I am also fighting the battle of raising 3 daughters to not be caught up in the latest and greatest trends. My 4 year old would rattle off so many things she wanted for Christmas, then not be able to tell you why she wanted the toys.
So, we decided to do only one toy this year at Christmas and the other gifts have to be something functional or an experience.
1. Santa brought a gymnastics mat & we turned their toy room into a dance studio. This is technically a gift to me and my husband as well, because it means no more acrobatics in the living room.
Christmas morning gift from Santa: a gymnastics mat, just like at the dance studio.
Ballet barres: Mama & Daddy got crafty with Lowes & Home Depot gift cards from credit card points.
2. In keeping with the minimalist trend, we gave the girls tickets to the Russian Ballet’s Swan Lake at the Fox Theater in Atlanta. An experience and memory that doesn’t clutter up our home, or cause arguments when time to clean up the toy room. Parent victory!
p.s. If you live in the Atlanta area, goto the Box Office! Had I purchased these tickets online, our family of 5 would have paid $300. Instead, we paid $155. That’s right, no Ticketmaster fees AND student pricing. Instead of $59.95, the girls’ tickets were only $15!
3. One of the hardest changes to make in trying to rock the minimalism party is instant gratification. (Think about the impulse purchases that you quickly wondered why you ever found them appealing.) So, while in Puerto Rico for Thanksgiving, we told the girls we would only sight-see, not purchase at every stop.
We came across the most adorable handmade dolls and the girls really wanted them. I told them they could think about it all day, but if they chose to get one, it would count as 1 of their 3 Christmas gifts.
By the end of the day, they still wanted the Puerto Rican dolls, despite knowing they would have to wait until Christmas morning. Patience is a virtue which does not come naturally to me, my husband, or my girls. I was thoroughly impressed!
While we are a work in progress, slowly purging our home of clutter and trying to discipline our shopping and daily life, I feel like we did well at one of the most difficult times of the year. Christmas should be a time of reflection and family, not shopping malls and perfect gift stress. Which reminds me, gift cards!
I am the Queen of Gift Cards at Christmas. Some people may say it is impersonal, but why just buy something to buy something? Instead of spending hours away from family stressing about the perfect gift, give the kids some money or a gift card and spend time with them. Think about your childhood… The best memories are probably about what you did and with whom you shared the holidays. Make the amazing memories for the next generation.
My ugly Christmas sweater busts out with the same horrible faux suede skirt every year. I know there will be times that this horrifies my daughters, but in the end, I believe we will all laugh and have fun with it. Who knows, an ugly sweater may become a right of passage in our family.
Every year, we roam around the Christmas tree farm and find the perfect tree. I loved it as a kid and I still love it as an adult. I grew up in suburbia, but now live on a farm in rural North Carolina, so my husband and I decided to dig up our tree for “first Christmases” and plant them on our farm. Our first year of marriage, each first Christmas for our daughters, we planted them along the creek.
I will be honest, it was a huge pain, but worth the sentimental value. We would dig it up and wrap it in burlap, then put it in a huge galvanized tub with water. Sometimes, I would have to use bricks to weigh down a side to keep it from falling on a kid, but it was such a lovely idea. Somehow, I managed to keep them alive in the house and on the farm.
Then one day, we took a walk to look at our Christmas trees. They were gone. Well, technically they weren’t gone, they were in the creek. That’s right, of all the trees on our farm, the stinking’ beavers chewed down our Christmas trees. You know, the same trees that I had worked so hard to keep alive? Yep, our sentimental “First Christmases” trees.
We still cut down a live tree every year, but we don’t attempt to replant them on the farm. Beavers! Who else has had a Christmas tradition sabotaged by beavers?!
So, I try not to be a germaphobe, but some things are just funky. When the girls were little, they would always have to put their hands on the potty to keep from falling. I found a little travel potty seat at Babies R Us that would fold up and be kept in a zip loc in the car. It was genius! Nothing too fancy, just a smaller seat with little handles that stuck out where apparently every kid instinctively puts their hands. (My kids didn’t have the fancy padded kind in the link, but ours had handles. Priorities.)
My girls are big enough now that they know not to touch the public potties. The two oldest can go in their own stall, so I just say a little prayer that they touch as little as possible, then make them wash their hands like they’re obsessive compulsive. My youngest may never be allowed to go alone.
You think she is just coming close to get her picture taken…
She is my licker. Seriously, not sure why, but she randomly licks things and people. I am also certain that she is a walking health code violation. You know how most kids just have to touch things when they shouldn’t? Vivian licks things. Super gross things like, car bumpers, escalator handles, and dance studio floors (after dance camp), just to name a few.
…then she licks. Yep, she licked my phone camera lens.
She probably has the best immune system, but she continues to gross me out. Perfect example, the other day we were getting ready for Sofia and Lydia’s back-to-back basketball practices. The gym where they practice has yucky bathrooms. No matter how hard the Rec. Department tries to keep them clean, there is always a funkiness to them. Naturally, I asked Vivian to go to the bathroom before leaving our office. She said, “Nope. I don’t have to now.” I reminded her that the gym bathrooms are yucky and she replied, “I’ve gone in there before, all by myself. I like a little dirt on my potty.”
On our way home from dance last night we witnessed a man drop off a dog on the side of our road and drive away. The dog had no collar and my daughter immediately knew it had been abandoned. She panicked. “Mama you have to get that dog! That man just left him and there is no one to take care of him or feed him. The coyotes might eat him! He will be so scared all alone in the dark!”
I have tried to instill a sense of compassion in my children, but adopting a dog was not high on my list. The look on my daughter’s face shamed me into driving slowly so the dog could follow us home. It looked like a nice dog, but I wasn’t sure if it would be aggressive. After all, it had just been left on the side of a country road, so who knows how it had been treated?!
We got home and my husband put him in our outside kennel with food. I immediately posted a picture to Facebook, hoping to find new owners and had a Facebook friend offer to adopt him. Can I get an amen?! We planned to meet the next day after work.
The next morning I went to let our dog outside and feed “Wolfie” before going to the office. The gate was standing wide open and Wolfie was gone. I went down the hill and someone or something had kicked in the gate of the kennel. I immediately thought the man that left him changed his mind or got mad and took him. (Yes, I jumped to conclusions!)
Next thing I know, my dog is barking…and I hear another dog barking. “Wolfie” came down out of the woods behind our home and went back down and laid at the kennel gate. What the what? My husband came home and repaired the gate and Wolfie happily went back in the kennel and stayed there until my husband could meet with his new owner later in the day.
We found a collar and the dog literally rolled on its side and waited for my husband to put on the collar and leash. Ollie Augustus on the other hand, is our hyper attention-needy dog that can’t even walk on a leash. Yes, my husband pointed out Wolfie’s ability to walk rather than spaz out and drag me as he walked to his car. For a moment I debated which dog we should give up, I’m not going to lie.
As my husband loaded the dog into his back seat, my girls started crying about how much they would miss Wolfie. You know, the dog we had for less than 24 hours.
I still don’t know how that gate was opened, but I am just grateful Wolfie found a new owner to love him and give him a new name. Vince is apparently a cool dog that is mellow and great to have around.
Mamarazzi & Her Divas 