Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Hello, Bonjour, Hola!

Hello, Bonjour, Hola.

Hello, Bonjour, Hola.

I hear these words All. Day. Long. A monotonous repetition, made equal parts of adorable and obnoxious. Because, you know, toddler.

(As a side note, Liam is trying to help me write this blog, and he's really not helpful, randomly hitting keys and making things pop up in my post.)

Anyway Piper got Liam this sweet giraffe for Solstice. If you push a button on it, it says (you've probably guessed it) Hello, Bonjour, Hola! Which he has picked up like the little parrot he is.

Not that I don't love to hear his little voice making actual adorable words, but I'm not immune to being annoyed at the same words over, and over, and over.

And over.

So, here's my word of wisdom for the day. The best toys you can buy for your nieces and nephews or children you love, are silent.

Noisy, talking toys are what you get people when you don't like them, or their kids.

Seriously people, love a mom: buy their kids quiet toys.

This message is brought to you from my headache.


*****

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Tuesday, January 20, 2015

The Blogging Thing

Thanks, Ryan Gosling.
I once heard someone ask how many blogs I had, anyway? And the truth is really, just a couple. I have this one. This one has just seemed like a few because I've changed the host a few times, and when it started it was called Our Homeschool, and clearly it's not anymore. But it's been the same blog, with the same posts.

Then I had a blog I wrote with some friends. It was dealing with religious issues. If you didn't know, I'm kind of obsessed with super fundie Christians. The crazy is a train wreck I can't look away from.

That blog was an answer to that movement. And after I'd been writing it for a while, I realized I was really done with the whole faith. After I left the church, it hardly seemed appropriate for me to continue to write there.

I have another blog on which I answer a woman in Florida, who writes a super crazy blog of her own. I forget that one for months and years at a time, only to rile her all up when I remember it and post something. She seriously hates me.

But this blog, this one is my baby. This is the one that has followed my family through all the ups and downs, births and losses. This is the one that I have poured my heart into. Sometimes with really encouraging results. Like, yay, people hear me and even share the same thoughts sometimes! And other times it's a bit discouraging. Like, hey, I really poured my heart out in that post, and all I hear are crickets. That kinda sucks. 

But this is the chronicle of the family I've made for myself, and the journey I've been on in the process. So, even when there are crickets, I'm going to keep writing.

So, my goal is to write every day. Even if it's just little. Even if no one reads it. This is my outlet. Clearly, though, it hasn't been happening this last month.

ThenI realized that I'd shifted my whole schedule. I'm working out more, and focusing on different things in the evening, and it just leaves no time for blogging, which I'd been doing at the end of the day.

So, I'm switching things up. It's now my goal to write in the morning or afternoon. You know, before anything really happens, so that my blog posts can be as boring as possible. But at least they'll be written and I'm thinking that's better than silence at this point.

To everyone still reading, thank you. And to my friends who've known me a very long time, but feel like they've come to know me better by reading here, thank you for telling me that. It's funny. You put these words out there, and you really can't tell where they go. Hearing from you that you like what I write, or like knowing me in the way you have from reading this, means so much to me.

And now I'm thinking I might have ten minutes to lie down before my kids come home with their after school insanity.

Maybe. I don't think the odds are good, but I'm still gonna try!

*****
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Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Good Cop, Bad Cop

If you've ever read one of those pieces, praising the work of mothers, they tend to include a list of unpaid professions. Cook, maid, chauffeur, secretary, therapist, nurse, etc.

But there's one profession they leave out: Law Enforcement Officer.

And trust me, I am a cop, too. I'm not only the one who catches people committing crimes and takes them into custody, sometimes I'm the detective who has to figure out who has done what.

I'm also have to teach my kids that crime doesn't pay.

Take for example, our pantry. I bought a bag of cereal on Friday. Over the weekend, they don't eat cereal for breakfast. So, Monday morning, the bag shouldn't have been opened. But it was. Not only was it opened, it was empty. Gone. An entire bag of cereal.

How's a mom to figure out who has committed this theft? There are lots of ways, but the easiest is often to press on the weak one in the gang. The one who can't lie. The one who will point the finger at his or her co-conspirators.

There is always one.

Bridget got caught eating something she shouldn't have been, and when I called her out on it, she tried to deny it.

"Bridget!" I explained, "You are one of seven children. There will always be someone who rats you out. There will always be someone to tell me when you've done something! Anything at all!"

I have also learned that my children should never go into a life of crime. They can't keep secrets, and they'll totally roll over on each other to save their own skin.

I sometimes find myself playing both good cop and bad cop, trying to put the fear of Mom in one, while promising another a reduced sentence if he or she will just 'fess up.

Of course, my ultimate goal is often learning, as sometimes they're doing something wrong because they don't understand. And I can't educate and explain until I know who did something and why.

But sometimes they're just doing something they think they can get away with. And, no, there will be no getting away with things around here.

I'm a really good detective. At least with people whose internet and privileges I control and who leave a crapload of clues at every crime scene. CSI it isn't. But it is a necessary part of this whole Mom job.

*****
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Sunday, January 11, 2015

Where Do My Ideas Go?

I need a tape recorder, I think.

I keep having great ideas for blog posts, and I know that just as soon as I sit down at the computer, this amazing thing is going to flow right out of me!

Then I actually sit down, and that absolutely genius idea I had in the car on the way to Target, is gone.

Not just gone like nothing was there. It's like a Black Hole of an idea, where the absence of it is pulling me in with it's gravity.

The idea didn't just go. It was swallowed.

Is this Mommy Brain? Midlife senility? The long term effects of sleep deprivation on a woman?

I have no idea. All I know is that I had something decent to write and now all I have is the nagging frustration that I can't remember that thing.

To be fair, I've forgotten other things as well. I can even forget to pee if I'm kept busy enough. At least that one never gets forgotten forever.

Life is a vast field of experiences, thoughts and ideas. Maybe some we get to pick up and carry with us, and others we only get to look at. And some we pick up and set down along the path, and then we realize we forgot the idea for our blog posts.

But there's tomorrow, I think. And I'll have another idea then. Maybe I'll ask Siri to make a note for me. She's way better at remembering things than I am.

What did we do before? I don't remember.

*****
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