On Friday Michael was getting ready for school when he uttered that phrase that strikes fear into the heart of every parent: "Mom, I have to bring something for Show and Tell that starts with the letter 'k'."
Crud.
Of course I say this as a mom who sent him with a fake remote-controlled candle the day the letter was "n", because, you know, a candle has an "n" in it...
Oh, I just had an idea! I could have sent him with his plastic pirate's hook! (It has a "k" in it!) But then, times being what they are, Michael would probably get expelled and I would get arrested and that really would have ruined my day. Besides, Leah might not have been willing to part with it... The night before at dinner she randomly announced, "Mom, I'm going to run away with Captain Hook!" Then she and her siblings launched into a giggle fest because someone said, "booty."
I finally banished them all from the table when the conversation continued to deteriorate (why do kids find the word "poop" so hilarious?) and Leah tried to eat a spoonful of butter right out of the stick. As soon as they were gone I might have taken my carefully measured tablespoon of crumbled bacon (only 35 calories!) and, because I didn't have to keep up appearances by throwing it on a salad, eaten it straight from my fist. It was that kind of day.
You want to make something of it?
Now I'm cranky because it snowed today for like the 500th time this winter, David is working late as usual, Matthew threw up yesterday, and I got a call from the school this afternoon that Michael wasn't feeling well. The good news is that Michael's distress magically disappeared as soon as we stepped over the threshold of our house. The bad news is that his distress magically disappeared as soon as we stepped over the threshold of our house. (Mysteriously, it keeps returning whenever I say, "Michael, clean up your room," or "Please empty the dishwasher." Baffling).
Honestly, I don't think he was bluffing, per se. I think it was just the kind of stomach issue that can be resolved with a couple of trips to the bathroom, which he was able to take at school while he was waiting for me to pick him up. And honestly, who wants to risk miscalculating when there was actual vomiting in the house just yesterday? Not I. So I didn't push the issue. But I did banish him to the couch as penance for troubling me to come get him from school.
Okay, okay, I did it so I could sneak a fudge bar from the freezer when no one was looking.
I'm such a good mom.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Love in Action
I've had love on the brain lately, and not just because it was Valentine's Day last week. Mostly because I jumped from watching the "Twilight" series (and you know how romantic I think those are) to watching old Disney movies with my kids. And what have I learned?
Cinderella taught me that all it takes to fall in love is one dance.
Sleeping Beauty one-upped the dance = insta-love equation with the added bonus of teaching parents it is better to withhold information and hide their children from the world than to tell their kids what dangerous things are out there and how they can avoid them.
Last, but not least, The Little Mermaid taught me that adolescent crushes are worth giving up one's soul in order to pursue. Also, being disobedient to your parents is cool and always works out in the end. (Plus, if I ever become Queen of the Universe, I know it is better to sacrifice everyone in my entire kingdom than to let my daughter suffer the consequences of her stupidity).
Hmmm...
Don't get me wrong, I like fairy tales as much as the next girl, but how is that that "Happily Ever After" always consists of meet, greet, and ride off into the sunset together? (Or in Ariel's case, see cute boy, lose your ever-lovin' mind, and sign away your soul for a chance to play Chase the Prince).
Why is love consistently portrayed as something that just happens instead of something that is the result of careful and consistent cultivation?
In a world of confusing ideas about love, I think this is one of the most damaging; that love exists independent of personal responsibility and action; that it's just a lightning bolt that strikes and once the fire has gone out, it's over, without chance of recovery. How many people have divorced their spouses because they are no longer "in love" without realizing love is something you do, not something you feel?
This is why I love the example laid out in "Fiddler on the Roof." After 25 years in an arranged marriage, Tevye wants to know if his wife, Golde, loves him. At first she tries to avoid his questioning by listing all the things she has done for him over the years. But, as he persists, she allows herself to internalize the question, again being brought back to all the things she has done for him: "For twenty-five years I've lived with him, fought with him, starved with him. Twenty-five years my bed is his. If that's not love, what is?"
What is love if not action? If not service and kindness and working together?
Once you do, you feel.
So if you are not "in love" with your spouse, get back in love.
Go. And do.
Cinderella taught me that all it takes to fall in love is one dance.
Sleeping Beauty one-upped the dance = insta-love equation with the added bonus of teaching parents it is better to withhold information and hide their children from the world than to tell their kids what dangerous things are out there and how they can avoid them.
Last, but not least, The Little Mermaid taught me that adolescent crushes are worth giving up one's soul in order to pursue. Also, being disobedient to your parents is cool and always works out in the end. (Plus, if I ever become Queen of the Universe, I know it is better to sacrifice everyone in my entire kingdom than to let my daughter suffer the consequences of her stupidity).
Hmmm...
Don't get me wrong, I like fairy tales as much as the next girl, but how is that that "Happily Ever After" always consists of meet, greet, and ride off into the sunset together? (Or in Ariel's case, see cute boy, lose your ever-lovin' mind, and sign away your soul for a chance to play Chase the Prince).
Why is love consistently portrayed as something that just happens instead of something that is the result of careful and consistent cultivation?
In a world of confusing ideas about love, I think this is one of the most damaging; that love exists independent of personal responsibility and action; that it's just a lightning bolt that strikes and once the fire has gone out, it's over, without chance of recovery. How many people have divorced their spouses because they are no longer "in love" without realizing love is something you do, not something you feel?
This is why I love the example laid out in "Fiddler on the Roof." After 25 years in an arranged marriage, Tevye wants to know if his wife, Golde, loves him. At first she tries to avoid his questioning by listing all the things she has done for him over the years. But, as he persists, she allows herself to internalize the question, again being brought back to all the things she has done for him: "For twenty-five years I've lived with him, fought with him, starved with him. Twenty-five years my bed is his. If that's not love, what is?"
What is love if not action? If not service and kindness and working together?
Once you do, you feel.
So if you are not "in love" with your spouse, get back in love.
Go. And do.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
A Complimentary Lesson
Michael has gotten so big. He's grown from a boy who used to wipe snot on my sleeve to a... never mind. He still wipes snot on my sleeve. Some things never change.
But, as he is becoming more aware of the world and its idiosyncrasies -- and spurred on by the "you look pregnant" incident -- I've decided it is high time to coach him on things he should never say to a woman; among them:
"Your legs are really jiggly!"
"Your bum is way too big to fit in that chair!"
"What did you do to your hair?"
"I don't like your outfit."
And, for good measure, "Dad is so much nicer than you!"
Okay, I guess that last one is better categorized as "Things you should never say to your mother," but still.
Harrrrumph. Commenting on my jiggly legs when he gets a sandwich and a bowl of soup for lunch and I'm stuck with one measly little egg and a single slice of bread if I want to have enough calories leftover for an apple. So unjust that my six-year-old gets to eat more than I do.
But then he proved his true character yesterday after I accidentally whacked him in the face with a snow shovel (the snow had melted enough that we decided to shovel off the trampoline and he was alternately goofing off and helping me when he suddenly straightened up right in the path of my shovel as I turned to pitch a load of snow off the side. Ouch!!). After he had settled down and the tears stopped I apologized again. "That's okay, Mom!" he said. Then we snuggled and that was the end of it.
Turns out I could learn a few things from him, too.
But, as he is becoming more aware of the world and its idiosyncrasies -- and spurred on by the "you look pregnant" incident -- I've decided it is high time to coach him on things he should never say to a woman; among them:
"Your legs are really jiggly!"
"Your bum is way too big to fit in that chair!"
"What did you do to your hair?"
"I don't like your outfit."
And, for good measure, "Dad is so much nicer than you!"
Okay, I guess that last one is better categorized as "Things you should never say to your mother," but still.
Harrrrumph. Commenting on my jiggly legs when he gets a sandwich and a bowl of soup for lunch and I'm stuck with one measly little egg and a single slice of bread if I want to have enough calories leftover for an apple. So unjust that my six-year-old gets to eat more than I do.
But then he proved his true character yesterday after I accidentally whacked him in the face with a snow shovel (the snow had melted enough that we decided to shovel off the trampoline and he was alternately goofing off and helping me when he suddenly straightened up right in the path of my shovel as I turned to pitch a load of snow off the side. Ouch!!). After he had settled down and the tears stopped I apologized again. "That's okay, Mom!" he said. Then we snuggled and that was the end of it.
Turns out I could learn a few things from him, too.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Things That Make You Go "Awwww"
It's so cute I can't stand it! Even if they did pull all their bedding onto the floor...
O Be Nice, What Can I Say More?
At Disneyland, while we were in line for Peter Pan, (why is there always a line for that one?) we fell into conversation with a woman next to us who was newly engaged. She asked us how long we had been married, and when she found out we were in the double digits, she wanted to know if we had any marriage advice.
I said, "Just be nice to each other."
She looked a little disappointed, like she was hoping for something a little more earth-shattering, but seriously, that's it. Be nice. If you both do this, you will have a happy marriage.
I can already hear it out there: "But... but... but..."
But nothing. BE NICE.
If you would like your husband to do something for you, ask him nicely. Then, if he does it, thank him. If he doesn't do it, you still have to BE NICE. This means no getting snippy when he doesn't pick up the dry-cleaning. Or take out the garbage. Or load the dishwasher in the one-true-and-holy way known only to you. Simply ask him nicely again ("I know you're busy, but would you mind taking out the garbage for me?") or tell him how much it would mean to you if he would put the forks in the dishwasher the way you like it. Then if he does it, thank him profusely. If he doesn't do it, let me give you a little tip: do it yourself and don't be a martyr. And seriously, get over the dishwasher thing. Just because he's not doing it the way you like it done doesn't mean he's doing it wrong.
Oh, I know. You think that "if he cared" about you he'd leap to put those fork tines down when you ask him (ask being the operative word there - no ordering each other around). But I'm going to let you in on a little secret (well, two, to be exact). The first is that there are many, many things that don't actually matter -- If he wipes off the counter, it doesn't matter that he doesn't fold the towel in half when he's done. The second is that the nicer you are to your husband, the more willing he will be to do things for you. It's not rocket science, ladies. If you are kind and grateful, this attitude will be returned to you a hundredfold.
There is absolutely no reason to get upset if he continually leaves the toilet seat up. This is not to say you should never mention the things that bother you (how is he supposed to know it bothers you if you never say "Honey, I almost fell in the toilet when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night and the seat was up. Would you mind putting it down next time?") but really, it takes approximately one second of your life to put the seat down yourself. One second. Is that really worth getting worked up over?
How many other petty things do we let chip away at our marriage that only take ONE SECOND to handle ourselves?
So don't get in a snit waiting for your husband to be nice to you. And don't get in a snit because your husband is not reading your mind when it comes to romance or work or helping around the house. Appreciate him for the things he does for you, and BE NICE about the things he doesn't. You hold the power here, ladies. Be nice to him and you'll be pleasantly surprised by the results.
Come on, try it.
You'll like it.
I said, "Just be nice to each other."
She looked a little disappointed, like she was hoping for something a little more earth-shattering, but seriously, that's it. Be nice. If you both do this, you will have a happy marriage.
I can already hear it out there: "But... but... but..."
But nothing. BE NICE.
If you would like your husband to do something for you, ask him nicely. Then, if he does it, thank him. If he doesn't do it, you still have to BE NICE. This means no getting snippy when he doesn't pick up the dry-cleaning. Or take out the garbage. Or load the dishwasher in the one-true-and-holy way known only to you. Simply ask him nicely again ("I know you're busy, but would you mind taking out the garbage for me?") or tell him how much it would mean to you if he would put the forks in the dishwasher the way you like it. Then if he does it, thank him profusely. If he doesn't do it, let me give you a little tip: do it yourself and don't be a martyr. And seriously, get over the dishwasher thing. Just because he's not doing it the way you like it done doesn't mean he's doing it wrong.
Oh, I know. You think that "if he cared" about you he'd leap to put those fork tines down when you ask him (ask being the operative word there - no ordering each other around). But I'm going to let you in on a little secret (well, two, to be exact). The first is that there are many, many things that don't actually matter -- If he wipes off the counter, it doesn't matter that he doesn't fold the towel in half when he's done. The second is that the nicer you are to your husband, the more willing he will be to do things for you. It's not rocket science, ladies. If you are kind and grateful, this attitude will be returned to you a hundredfold.
There is absolutely no reason to get upset if he continually leaves the toilet seat up. This is not to say you should never mention the things that bother you (how is he supposed to know it bothers you if you never say "Honey, I almost fell in the toilet when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night and the seat was up. Would you mind putting it down next time?") but really, it takes approximately one second of your life to put the seat down yourself. One second. Is that really worth getting worked up over?
How many other petty things do we let chip away at our marriage that only take ONE SECOND to handle ourselves?
So don't get in a snit waiting for your husband to be nice to you. And don't get in a snit because your husband is not reading your mind when it comes to romance or work or helping around the house. Appreciate him for the things he does for you, and BE NICE about the things he doesn't. You hold the power here, ladies. Be nice to him and you'll be pleasantly surprised by the results.
Come on, try it.
You'll like it.
Store-Bought Politics
In days gone by it was generally understood that decent people would have differing opinions when it came to things like religion, politics, and social issues. An argument might go like this:
Person 1: I think this because of A, B, and C.
Person 2: Well, I think this because of D, E, and F.
Person 1: I understand your point of view, but I think the concerns of A, B and C outweigh the concerns of D, E and F.
Person 2: Fair enough.
Nowadays, arguments go like this.
Person 1: I think this.
Person 2: Only a bigot/racist/homophobe would think that, you bigot/racist/homophobe! You are the stupidest person alive!
No one can talk about anything without first ascribing nefarious motives to everyone who disagrees with them. These days there are two opinions: Mine and Evil.
If you disagree with Obama's policies, you are a racist. If you are in favor of traditional marriage you are a bigot. And now, thanks to the kerfuffle over Chick-fil-A last year, if you do so much as eat a chicken sandwich, you are a hateful, horrible, homophobe (not to mention a soulless chicken-killer). Pop an Oreo in your mouth afterward and you somehow morph into a fanatical gay rights activist.
Ah, remember the good old days when going to a restaurant only meant you liked the food? And shopping at a store meant nothing more than the fact that you liked the products and the prices?
Well, for me, it still does mean that. Sure, I might be inclined to visit a store more often if I know the owner donates a portion of his profits to help starving children in Africa, but how exhausting would it be to have to research the personal preferences of every CEO and the charitable contributions of every company before I dig in to a box of Ding Dongs? (Ding Dongs... *tear* RIP, Hostess).
Going to a particular store does not mean that I am subscribing to the owner's political or religious philosophy, nor that I am endorsing the causes they support with their profits. (If that were the case I wouldn't be able to shop anywhere). And that is why I will continue to eat at Chick-fil-A (because I love their shakes and cookies), I will continue to eat Ben & Jerry's ice cream (because it tastes delicious), I will shop at Amazon.com (because they allow me to buy stuff without having to go anywhere and they ship it to me for free in two days), I will watch the Ellen show (because she is hilarious and knows how to be funny without being vulgar or profane), and I will go to movies starring actors who are terrible people (because I'm there to see a movie, not to endorse someone's personal life).
I will also continue to make fun of PETA, because it is completely and totally ridiculous.
Person 1: I think this because of A, B, and C.
Person 2: Well, I think this because of D, E, and F.
Person 1: I understand your point of view, but I think the concerns of A, B and C outweigh the concerns of D, E and F.
Person 2: Fair enough.
Nowadays, arguments go like this.
Person 1: I think this.
Person 2: Only a bigot/racist/homophobe would think that, you bigot/racist/homophobe! You are the stupidest person alive!
No one can talk about anything without first ascribing nefarious motives to everyone who disagrees with them. These days there are two opinions: Mine and Evil.
If you disagree with Obama's policies, you are a racist. If you are in favor of traditional marriage you are a bigot. And now, thanks to the kerfuffle over Chick-fil-A last year, if you do so much as eat a chicken sandwich, you are a hateful, horrible, homophobe (not to mention a soulless chicken-killer). Pop an Oreo in your mouth afterward and you somehow morph into a fanatical gay rights activist.
Ah, remember the good old days when going to a restaurant only meant you liked the food? And shopping at a store meant nothing more than the fact that you liked the products and the prices?
Well, for me, it still does mean that. Sure, I might be inclined to visit a store more often if I know the owner donates a portion of his profits to help starving children in Africa, but how exhausting would it be to have to research the personal preferences of every CEO and the charitable contributions of every company before I dig in to a box of Ding Dongs? (Ding Dongs... *tear* RIP, Hostess).
Going to a particular store does not mean that I am subscribing to the owner's political or religious philosophy, nor that I am endorsing the causes they support with their profits. (If that were the case I wouldn't be able to shop anywhere). And that is why I will continue to eat at Chick-fil-A (because I love their shakes and cookies), I will continue to eat Ben & Jerry's ice cream (because it tastes delicious), I will shop at Amazon.com (because they allow me to buy stuff without having to go anywhere and they ship it to me for free in two days), I will watch the Ellen show (because she is hilarious and knows how to be funny without being vulgar or profane), and I will go to movies starring actors who are terrible people (because I'm there to see a movie, not to endorse someone's personal life).
I will also continue to make fun of PETA, because it is completely and totally ridiculous.
Friday, February 8, 2013
Twilight: The Serious Version
I've been making fun of "Twilight" a lot lately. And since David and I finished watching "Breaking Dawn, Part I" (Hollywood executives: "Let's take one slow movie and turn into two even slower movies") you can expect that to continue. (David: "What just happened?" Me: "He just performed an anesthesia-free c-section on his wife, using only his teeth. Why do you ask?")
But, let's be serious for a minute. What is it that galls me so much about this global phenomenon? Why do I hate it so much?
Well, I can tell you in one sentence: It's not about love.
If it were about love Bella would end up with Jacob - the best friend she can talk to for hours, who makes her feel secure and safe, who doesn't put her in danger and wouldn't require her to give up her soul or abandon any of the people she loves. Instead we have her walking down the aisle with Edward - danger in sparkly wrapping paper, whose jealous behavior and lust for her blood is portrayed as "romance". (Oooh, he's following her around and breaking into her house to watch her sleep! He's sooo romantic!)
Memo to teenage girls: A man who nurses fantasies of killing you is not husband material.
The only connection that exists between Bella and Edward is physical attraction on Bella's side (caused by Edward's self-admitted vampiric ability to draw people in) and blood lust on Edward's. That does not exactly spell "forever". And it certainly doesn't spell "happiness".
Love is not made up of heat and obsession. It doesn't fantasize about harming you or get jealous when a shirtless guy talks to you. And it definitely doesn't stalk you or put you in danger for its own selfish ends. If Edward truly loved Bella, he would have stayed away from her.
Why do I hate "Twilight" so much? It has been the means of causing millions of teenage girls (and dissatisfied wives) to confuse obsession and intense attraction for eternal love.
The damage of which is incalculable.
But, let's be serious for a minute. What is it that galls me so much about this global phenomenon? Why do I hate it so much?
Well, I can tell you in one sentence: It's not about love.
If it were about love Bella would end up with Jacob - the best friend she can talk to for hours, who makes her feel secure and safe, who doesn't put her in danger and wouldn't require her to give up her soul or abandon any of the people she loves. Instead we have her walking down the aisle with Edward - danger in sparkly wrapping paper, whose jealous behavior and lust for her blood is portrayed as "romance". (Oooh, he's following her around and breaking into her house to watch her sleep! He's sooo romantic!)
Memo to teenage girls: A man who nurses fantasies of killing you is not husband material.
The only connection that exists between Bella and Edward is physical attraction on Bella's side (caused by Edward's self-admitted vampiric ability to draw people in) and blood lust on Edward's. That does not exactly spell "forever". And it certainly doesn't spell "happiness".
Love is not made up of heat and obsession. It doesn't fantasize about harming you or get jealous when a shirtless guy talks to you. And it definitely doesn't stalk you or put you in danger for its own selfish ends. If Edward truly loved Bella, he would have stayed away from her.
Why do I hate "Twilight" so much? It has been the means of causing millions of teenage girls (and dissatisfied wives) to confuse obsession and intense attraction for eternal love.
The damage of which is incalculable.
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