children

Standards or Sanity. You Choose

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Make that party of two. After dance carpool I returned to the office to find this. Thank goodness they're cute!

Strep throat, party of two.

Do you remember how I gave up yelling at my kids for Lent on a snow day? That snow day turned into 3 snow days, then the weekend, then Monday Vivian woke up sick, then Monday afternoon I had to pick up Sofia early from school because she was sick, then I had dance carpool Monday night with Lydia, then Tuesday was a snow day, which turned into a snow week. Seriously.

By Wednesday, my cootie kids had been fever-free and on antibiotics for their strep throat long enough to take them in public. The girls had eaten everything we had at home, so we dropped Lawrence off at work and went to McDonalds for breakfast and the germ infested Play Place. Why? Because a mother considerably lowers all standards after being cooped up with children for so long. My next step, the grocery store. Yes, with all three girls.

Screen time is not restricted during snow days. Screen time = sanity for mom.

Screen time is not restricted during snow days. Screen time = sanity for mom.

 

Snow was in the forecast for that afternoon. I should have known how crowded the stores would be, but my options were, grocery store or don’t eat for days. Let’s be honest, I didn’t get this body by not eating, and hungry kids are grumpy. Off to the grocery we went. Never underestimating the power of bribery, I let the girls choose donuts for the next morning and told them, “If you want them for breakfast, you have to behave for the rest of the day.” Let’s just say, I will never get those two hours of my life back and I don’t care to re-live that trip to the grocery, but I didn’t yell at my kids.

 

If looks could kill

If looks could kill

As soon as we got home, I bundled up the girls and sent them outside to fight in their new snow boots as I put away groceries. The novelty of playing in the snow wore off quickly and the girls were back in the house as I was finishing with the groceries.  Just as all of their winter layers had been thrown into a pile, their daddy called to check on their behavior.

I put the phone on the counter and waited to hear the girls’ reports. Naturally, Vivian ran to the phone and told Lawrence, “We have been good today Daddy and we get donuts in the morning. Yep, we’re listening and we miss you!” I looked at her and she immediately gave me a dirty look and whispered, “Don’t say a word!” as she pointed her finger at me.

I made the girls a Newman’s organic frozen pizza, gave them a bath, and tucked them into bed with a movie. I then proceeded to finish laundry, get the back-up heat ready, and prepare for the possible power outage due to the anticipated 3-8″ of snow. I finally went to bed at 1:00 am.  I woke up, far too early, to Vivian counting to 100 as she hugged me in a headlock, then repeatedly asked, “Is it donut time? Is it donut time?”

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When you’re outnumbered and you can’t send them to school, you just go with it. I sugared them up and sent them outside to go sledding. You can call it caving, I call it staying sane during a snow week.

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Notice how dark this picture is? The donut demands started entirely too early.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fortunately, the snow is beautiful and my girls are cute. It's been fun, but I am ready for warm weather!

Fortunately, the snow is beautiful and my girls are cute. It’s been fun, but I am ready for warm weather!

Disney World

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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!

I Gave up Yelling at My Kids for Lent on a Snow Day

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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.

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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.”

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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.

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Planning ahead for next year.

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Mardi Gras has changed a bit

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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.

Minimalism and Parenting

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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.

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Christmas morning gift from Santa: a gymnastics mat, just like at the dance studio.

 

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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!

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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.

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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.

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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.

 

 

 

Dirty Potties

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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...

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.

…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.”

No sleep + kids = Momnesia

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I will never forget my first week home with my firstborn.  She never slept more than 3 hours. Ever.  The usual for Sofia was 2 hours awake, 2 hours asleep, until the day I thought she died.  That’s right, with all of the new mom stress and worry, magnified by my exhaustion and overachiever tendencies to be the perfect mom, I thought I killed her in less time than it took me to kill a houseplant.

She was sleeping so soundly that I couldn’t wake her up.  Her breath was shallow, her body didn’t react to my touch, and this had gone on for more than her maximum of 3 hours.  I called my husband in a panic to get home because I had somehow killed our child in the first week.

We used cold rags on her feet, I tried to nurse her, we talked to her, turned on music.  I thought she was in a coma.  We rushed to the pediatrician and, as soon as the doctor came in, Sofia opened her eyes and smiled at me.  That’s right, I had all but blasted Beastie Boys but the sound of the pediatrician coming in woke up my newly rested, happy child. I then proceeded to have an emotional breakdown. The pediatrician recommended take out food and paper plates, to let my house be messy, and sleeping pills to get at least one night of sleep a week.

I am pretty sure I haven’t slept a solid 8 hours in almost a decade, but I have managed to keep all 3 of my girls alive. That’s right, all girls. Not the sweet, mellow girls either. I have thrill seeking, strong-willed, opinionated divas who are meaner and messier than any boy I know.

Go ahead, feel bad for my husband, just for a moment.  Then, realize that men determine the gender and I have to do their hair every morning.  Every morning.