Political Stance

No, not mine. This is straight from the 9 year old that knows it all.

Husband was showing the boys pictures of Mars, explaining to them how they managed to get said pictures and how cool it was. There were a lot of ohhs and ahhs even though I'm sure they didn't totally understand what he was talking about.

A: So it's a robot?!

H: Yea, just like you're building in Lego League

A: REALLY?!

H: Yea, it's the same basic concept.

A: We can't send OUR robot to MARS!!

H: Well, no.

A: Where are the aliens?

H: They haven't found aliens

A: I wish they would, that would be so cool

H: Me too

I: ALIENS!!!!!

A: Then we could send Mitt Romney

H: What? What does Romney have to do with aliens?

A: Then we could send him to mars so the aliens could eat him.

H: ::turning to me:: Are you hearing this?

I just pulled the covers back over my head and giggled. Ah, kids. Never a dull moment

Going Public

My blog has always just been a place for me to put my random musings, usually about my kids, sometimes about my life. It could probably use a good dose of Zoloft with all of the ups and downs. What can I say? I'm moody.

Every once in awhile I toy with the idea of taking it public and actually linking it to my FB or twitter accounts. Only my "internet friends" would read it for awhile but as those friends become real friends and real friends drift apart...I don't know, it seems silly that I'm hiding it. There's really nothing on here that is offensive and I make no apologies for my thoughts. They're MY thoughts and anyone that knows me, knows that while I might be mad or sad about something, I'll snap out of it. I'll get over and move on b/c I don't have time or space in my life to focus on the negative. Okay, so there are a few posts that my family probably doesn't need to read. Like you know, that one about wrestling. Yea, I don't think anyone in my family needs to read that, maybe I could post a warning label: Sometimes I discuss inappropriate things on my blog, proceed with caution. I'm not sure my dad would ever look at my favorite red shoes the same again if he read this one.

Hmmm, on second thought. Maybe I'll just keep this between me and the anonymous internet world. You know...since the interwebs are private and all.

My Fourth Grader

Somtimes I feel like the 4 year old gets all the blog love. Probably because he's around me all.the.time and I just have more to say about him. That...and he's totally ridiculous.

Not to be left out is the FOURTH GRADER. People, let me just tell you, fourth grade sucks. It just does, as I mentioned before in my rant on homework. We'll survive. Thank goodness there is a liquor store nearby. I kid, I kid.

Fourth grade plus a new neighborhood and new friends? Well, that part is pretty awesome. I've talked about where we lived before, it was pretty ghetto fabulous. It wasn't HORRIBLE, I went for walks, took the kids to the park and felt fairly safe. It was just run down and dirty and depressed...and not getting any better. I couldn't wait to move even though I was a little stressed about all the changes that would mean for everyone.

I can't even begin to explain how awesome it is when your kid comes home from school and the firs thing he wants to do is run outside and play..and ride bikes...and just be a KID. It's awesome. It's something we just didn't have before and something I always wanted for my kids. In general, I think this is one of those things that we just take for granted. As a kid I was always outside running around and playing so the fact that my kids really couldn't do that ate at me.

Tonight he came home in time to eat dinner and do chores. It was 6:15 and he asked if he could go back out and come home by 7:30. I let him go even though he still has things to do. Our hours of daylight are dwindling and I can't help it...it makes me happy to see him so happy. He gave me a hug and ran out the door.

I love that kid.

What They Remember

Sometimes I have this vision of the family I feel like we should be. The one that wakes up smiling, eats breakfast together and talks about the day ahead before going our separate ways. The family that goes on grand adventures, big and small, on the weekends. Has huge weekend breakfasts and a house full of laughter.

Then I realize that I do not live inside a Pinterest board.

Our mornings are rushed no matter what time we wake up. The little one is crying because we have orange juice and not apple juice, the oldest is pouting over the lack of frozen waffles, HH can't find his keys and me? I'm just wishing the damn coffee maker would brew a little faster and that everyone would just get out so I can get 30 minutes of quiet.

Weekends are spent running errands, doing chores, schlepping the kids from place to place. Once in a great while we maybe squeeze a date night in there. This summer was particularly rough with the move mixed in and it caused a lot of mommy guilt. Guilt over not taking a real vacation, guilt over our lack of camping trips, guilt over just doing NOTHING and yet feeling like the summer disappeared in an instant.

My husband likes to remind me that sometimes (most of the time) the most memorable moments are the not so perfect ones. Like when it rained while on their boys camping trip. It's the trip that will be talked about over and over again, regardless of the other 15 camping trips with perfect weather. The summer we moved, it's not likely to be a summer they forget any time soon. I moved when I was 12 and I still remember like it was yesterday. I mean, watching your dad clean the upstairs by throwing stuff out of a second floor window is hard to forget :)

Sometimes I need to remember that it's not about being the family we think we should be...it's just about being a family. Embracing our good days and our bad days...our boring every day routines and our not so boring, not so every day adventures.

I'm not a helicopter mom (or am I?)

My boys are getting older and the older they get the more and more independent they want/NEED to be. Especially the 9 year old. I've always been a pretty laid back mom. I didn't rush to rinse off every dropped toy, I didn't run in every time one of the made a peep and I wasn't always looking over their shoulders to make sure nothing bad happened. I let them do their thing, I wait for the tears or the blood when they fall before I run over with a bandaid. Mom's kisses and a distraction was usually all that was needed to forget about a scraped knee or bruised ego.
Helicopter parenting has been talked about a lot lately. It's not really a term I was even familiar with until recently and honestly, I kind of just shrugged it off as one of those things I didn't need to be worried about because obviously I don't fall in to that category.
Or do I?
I'm 31 years old. When I was a kid you played outside until the street lights came on, you roamed the neighborhood on your bike, you walked everywhere and anywhere and your parents kind of knew where you were. They knew you were usually somewhere in a 4 block radius and if they stood outside and yelled (as my mom frequently did) you'd better be able to hear them and you'd better get your ass home. Yet here I am with a 9 year old boy and I won't let him walk across the street with his almost 4 year old brother to play on the playground for half an hour. Why?
I tell myself it's because I don't trust the neighborhood, which is true. We don't live in a great area...but the middle of a Sunday afternoon? We tell ourselves that times are different, things have changed, strangers can't be trusted. This is likely all very true but my kids know not to go off with a stranger, they know to stay together and to watch out for each other. Why is it so hard to let them just go outside and be kids?! We talk about getting kids away from video games and tv and we want them to go enjoy being outside the way we did...and yet we don't want to give them the independence to go explore, to learn, to make new friends with the kids down the street without us on their heels trying to make sure nothing bad happens.
Today, I told my kids they could go to the park by themselves. I set the ground rules: hold hands crossing the street, look both ways, stay inside the fence at the playground and if there are older kids hanging around just come home (hey, I have limits!). Unfortunately the park was closed...but it was a big step for me.
We ended up at another park later in the day and instead of following Ian around to make sure he didn't run infront of swings, climb up slides or fall off the monkey bars I just sat down at a table, chatted with a friend and watched. Ya know what? Nothing bad happened. Sure, he fell and he climbed up the slide instead of going down it, he stood at the bottom of the slide and got knocked down, he ran and he played. He made other little friends and I didn't need to be on top of him (I will say, I'm usually not, but today I made an effort to just leave him alone). He found me when he needed something and that was that. It was nice!

So baby steps...finding the balance between being the helicopter mom and being the mom that people look at and go "omg, does she ever watch her own children?!"

It all started with the stupid farmer

M: What did you do at school today?
A: Oh, nothing really.
M: Nothing? You had to do something
A: I played on the 'puter a little bit
M: Oh yea? Did you play the farm game?
A: Yea, everytime I play I pick that silly Farmer, it's so much fun.
M: Sounds like fun
A: The little boy in the spider man shirt, want to know what he said? *not stopping for me to answer* He said 'you always pick that stupid farmer'.
M: Oh
A: Yea, he did for real
M: Well we don't say stupid, that's not very nice
A: I know, that's a bad word
M: But you know not to call people stupid, right?
A: I know. You know what else is a bad word? Fuckin'
M: wha...wha..what???
A: Yep, Fuckin' is a really bad word
M: yes it is, and you do not say that word, ever.
A: I know, I was just telling you.
M: I know, you can tell me. Where did you hear that?
A: *looooooonng pause*...At grandma and grandpa's
M: Who said it over there? (shocked at this point that he didn't say daddy b/c, well, daddy isn't always so good at watching his mouth)
A: Gabriel, a long time ago.
M: REALLY? Gabe said that?
A: Yea, he said 'what is wrong with fuckin' people'. But he was like, 4 or something.
**Gabe just turned 6...nice**

Later

A: Mommy, do you know that teacher?
M: Your teacher, Mrs F?
A: NO, not MY teacher (he gets upset when we don't understand his story)
M: what teacher, sweetie?
A: The other teacher, you know...the other one.
M: I don't know what teacher, do you know her name?
A: no, I don't know her name *pause* I don't want to say fat, but ummm..well...
M: No Aiden, you don't ever call someone fat, that is very rude.
A: I know! She's the teacher with the sandal shoes.
M: *still having no clue* Oh, okay, yea I know her

Both of these conversations took place in the 7 minute car ride between school and Walmart. I still have no idea what he did at school today or what he ate for lunch. I did find out that his best buddy from preschool last year, doesn't want to play with him this year. Since it's not appropriate for me to smack a 5 year old for being mean to my little boy...I'll let them work it out. I'm sure they'll be friends again next week, but it's so hard to see my "baby" upset over something I have no control over :(

Speaking of little boys...we had a bit of a penile problem this evening...and not with the infant. Aiden kept playing with himself and after me telling him for the 10th time to get his hands out of his underwear he told me his pee pee hurt. He showed Jared and sure enough, it was red...like diaper rash red. Jared cleaned him up and put some "medicine" aka baby diaper rash cream on it. Hopefully it helps.

And, I've been up since 5:30am...I'm tired...need sleep, lots of sleep!