Showing posts with label allaire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label allaire. Show all posts

Friday, April 24

Couch potato

Jon's return home each week is more often than not about me and my needs than anyone else's. I punched out around 7:00 last night. A 10-year-old can totally watch Grey's Anatomy, right?

Laying on the couch together

Allie: Who is Grey?
Me: The main girl. That one.
Allie: Her name is Grey?
Me: That's what they tell me.
Allie: What's anatomy?
Me: It's, um, uhh...like, the make up of something? Your body parts are all your anatomy?
Allie: So why is the show about that girl's....EW! ANOTHER TURNING KISS!

Four days alone with the three of them and their myriad requests leaves this mother ready to make any inappropriate show suitable for her children. Except maybe not The Hills. That's my secret.

Tuesday, March 24

For Daisy, wherever I may find her...

...having scattered cat litter on the runner in the hallway, on the rug in my bedroom, or sprinkled atop the hardwoods in any other given room in the house.

What's with dogs and eating litter-covered cat poop straight out of the litter box? Better yet, hastily searching for the any remaining moresels, having been dutifully scooped by a 10-year-old fulfilling her daily chore, in the garbage can. The latter, however, resembles more of a CAT SHIT EXTRAVAGANZA! As if Daisy discovered the scooped poop and, in her drunken excitement, ran to call her friends to share the good news, leaving several other unmentionables strewn about the bathroom floor.

A friend of mine referred to such delectable organic dog treats as Snow Caps. Like the movie theater white sprinkle covered chocolate candies? I prefer to think of Daisy and her cat shit eating habits as just plain disgusting. Especially when she actually has the nerve to approach me, mouth open, tongue wagging, ready to coat me with her slobbery affection.

Sunday, March 22

Hands off

A lot of my girlfriends are finally having their first kids, some are on to the second. I'm beginning to realize the difference between the stages in parenting and I'm finding relief from what I'm discovering.

So many of my friends are all, "THREE KIDS?! How do you DO it?" And I'm all, "Ummm...I just, do?"

These girlfriends devote all of their time and energy to Kid 1, and of course Kid 2 if it applies. Most of them are SAHMs because I'm thinking, really you guys, that if we do work as mothers we're sort of frowned upon. Let's face it. We are expected to throw aside our goals, dreams, and professional aspirations to raising our kids. Or we satisfy all of those dreams and aspirations before having the family, but I don't know about that. What I do know is staying at home to parent children is of course a tremendous feat in itself while adding FULL TIME WORK on top of it means you're Super Mom. Or a selfish bitch, depending on who you ask.

What I'm really witnessing here is the different stages of parenting. I did my Kid 1 and Kid 2 obsessing when these girls were still worrying about which bar to go to. Of course, I would rather die than miss the party so I'd try to meet up with them, puking into bathroom sinks at 10:00, then pumping and dumping my beer infused breastmilk. Priorities, people! I devoted much of my time entertaining Allie and Gil, worrying about their soda intake and exposure to sugary snacks. Rigid schedule keeping and bathing every other day. Doing arts and crafts all day. Television watching for a two-year-old? Nothing but minimal PBS and maybe Baby Einstein.

I was just telling a girlfriend about Egan's exposure to things I'd never even dream of letting him experience if he were Kid 1. Or Kid 2. Nope, welcome Kid 3. Kid 3 knows the difference between Bob the Builder and Handy Manny, drinks soda when given the opportunity, stays up late, AND WILL GO WITHOUT A NAP!

My point here, dear readers, isn't about you and your parenting. It's about me and mine. You guys are doing the little kid stuff while I have moved onto the pre-teen big kid stuff. Having discussions about girlfriend drama and crushes with the same little girl who used to toddle up to me in her plastic footed one piece PJs, whispy hair in ever-requested "nuggets," asking me, "How are doin, Mom?" Or when not quite finished with her snack would announce, "I save it to later." Now I have to beg her to let me even think about putting her hair in nuggets. Or braids. Or ponytails. Apparently I don't know as much about fashion as I thought I did.

As I'm surrounded by you newer moms I found myself questioning the amount of interaction I have with my kids. With a sigh of relief, the big kid phase is far more hands-off. With the exception of Kid 3, Kid 1 & Kid 2 are independently brushing their own teeth, bathing themselves, playing outside for hours on end, packing their lunches for first and fourth grade. They read to me often times at bedtime. They even read to Kid 3 from time to time, giving me the opportunity to snuggle while reading but with my eyes closed. Until I'm woken up by Egan clip-clopping around in dancin shoes, asking me to paint his nails.

All's I'm saying, Internet, is that things change when your kids get older. You kind of feel like you still need to give them the same amount of hands-ON attention, when really, after you adjust and pat yourself on the back for a job well done with the little kid phase, it's a lot more hands-OFF.

Saturday, December 6

Sunday, September 21

What does your 9-year-old say to you first thing in the morning?

"I had this dream last night...we lived in a trailer park and we had a grill inside and, um, Dad was grilling steaks and it was Halloween and there were these three cousins who were lightbulbs and one lightbulb fell and caught on fire and then caught our house on fire and we couldn't leave for 7 minutes because Dad had to finish his steaks.

There was something like a platform with stairs going down on two sides and one of the cousins was from my orchestra class. And we were talking and talking and then I woke up."