Mama's faith

Today I was interviewing a private school, no they were interviewing Jack, Fiona and I. How will this work out? Will they accept her? Will they disappoint her? How is all this going to fit into our life? Fear!

The thought of her heart breaking is a challenge to my Mama's heart. She might not know it but my heart still beats with hers, even though she cuts the cord deeper everyday. Allowing her to feel the real life experience of disappointment and all that goes with it, allowing her to grow up a little more- is barely tolerable. Looking at my daughter's sweet face across the Dean of Admissions desk I saw her deep beauty as if time were frozen for a fraction of a second. I had a glimpse into her soul. Oh my God, she is amazing, incredible, her humanity and that which is more, so much much more. There is so much she doesn't know, but there is so much more of her than I give her credit for on any given manic, insane, frustrating, exhausting day. She blushed crimson while answering questions. Her eyes sparkled with innocence. The softness of her cheeks, was tactility understood from the distance of the three feet away- my world away, the other end of the table. Her enthusiasm for this school didn't surprise me. The view of her was however almost shocking. Warm, sensitive, intelligent, beautiful, caring. These things I did know. I did. But there was so much more communicated in that fraction of a second that words were not made for.

I am so screwed. Now that I have this new view of her, How shall I survive motherhood? I am so pathetic! I love my children too much. I want to protect them from.....everything. But in doing so I do them a disservice. Experiencing things within the parameters of my shelter is part of my job. I must be brave. I must have faith. One more growth opportunity huh? #*^@ that! Parenting is so much harder than I thought. I think my kids will survive pretty well. I, and I think it's safe to speak for Jack, are basket cases. Hopefully we raise the kids well enough to take care of us when we're also nutcases. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. For the millennium parents have loved their kids and survived. I guess if I need a reality check, I can go look at all the clean laundry under her bed. Yeah, that outta do it.

Life as Momto.

Favorite quote of the Day

While watching 40 year old Popeye cartoons, I hear my son say to my daughter, "He's good at jump roping sausage!"

Of course he is!

Life as Mama (and thank God for it)

I've always said.....

"When you have a second baby instead of sending you home with the baby blanket they should cloth you in a black and white stripped referee shirt." I think a whistle would be a great addition. It might break through the arguing over who's book that really is! And why someone haaaassss to go into someone else's room.

In the sixties we just hit each other. We knew nothing of 'validating feelings' or 'communication skills'. Goodness to have feelings validated you definitely need communication skills and that just wasn't something the Pope prescribed before adding one more sibling to my Mid Western Catholic family. Emotional bandwidth, financial resources, new shoes or a master plan were also not required and these unmentioned goals were indeed met.

I love my parents. I have to admit, it's easier to love my mother now that she's dead. She's more predictable and that's nice. The longer I'm a parent the more I understand them. My God, seven kids, mostly at home at the same time, "Calgon-Send-A-Trailer-And-Pick-Up-The-Pieces-That-Were-Me-And-Take-Me-Away!" I can't even imagine. I remember some of the madness, some of the magic.

I know I too will weather this time. And in turn it will weather me. They will continue to connect as I have done. Even today I email my sister as she quilts in Nebraska, my sister as she grandparents in New York, my brother as he grieves his son's passing, my sister as she sits with my father, my brother as he leaves a meeting in Ohio and my sister as she cleans her neighbors garage in a small German village and know that we made it, through the fighting I mean. Scarred, scrappy and loving each other even though my mother didn't have a referee shirt or a whistle.

The Next Day

The light in the sky gently increases as if the Holiness itself moves the dimmer. The white clouds drift over the hill with it's varying hues illuminated by the new day. It's almost 7:00 a.m.


Yesterday was the day after Thanksgiving. Faced with squabbling siblings and The Day After Thanksgiving Bomb that went off in my house, I cajoled the kids into joining in a major clean up effort. When all surfaces were picked-up, vacuumed or shined Mama and offspring went off to spend the Disneyland passes burning a hole in my underwear drawer since gifted last Christmas.

The song of the birds this morning is a stark contrast to the unnatural screams that flew out of my son yesterday as he ran across the mid-way like he'd never seen a theme park before. "This is the best day of my life!" His exuberance was barely containable. My daughter thanked me no less than ten times for "Making her day," as we shuttled between California Adventure Land and Disneyland, paying no attention to the boundaries, holding freedom in our One Day Hopper tickets. Fiona prompted me several times to run from one gate to the other despite my aching legs, still angry and protesting the 5k from the day before.

It was theirs. All of it and they had the wonder lust- the whole of the Disney experience and they were claiming every inch of it. Bliss. "Kiddie" rides I thought would be out for sure were not off limits. Fiona is nostalgic, even at the park, so she visited some of her old favorites while Ian tolerated them and chanted "Roller Coaster, Roller Coaster". His need for thrills is beginning to concern me. But I'm probably overreacting. Jack says it's normal. "The fact that he hacked his old bike to bits on Thanksgiving day with an ax?" "Yes" he responds.

Fiona faced fears and went on Roller Coasters yesterday for the first time ever! Once her head was buried behind her Dare Devil brother she screamed her way out of his shoulder blades and enjoyed herself on The Matterhorn and Space Mountain piercing the blackness with shrill calls of pure happiness. There have been several firsts for her these past two weeks. The results are affection coming back to me after many lean years. She looked back for me while they ran off after dark. In line she allowed me to play with her hair. She put her head on my shoulder and made faces with me. As if they had schemed in the car, Ian on the other hand for the first time, wanted nothing to do with me. Several rides he wanted me to wait by the gate and ride only with his sister. I felt the sting of my baby pushing me away. As I sat on the bench, mildly dejected, the reality was punctuated as the woman next to me received an endless string of kisses from her toddler as he held her face in her hands. My legs hurt nothing like my heart.

The leaves are falling in a stiff breeze now. It's 8:10. The Southern California winter is here as the neighbors tree is fully back lit into a bright yellow. A tear is in my eye and a smile is on my face so early in the day, and I am indeed, grateful to by Mama.

First play off game

Yesterday's play off game was the farthest Fiona and a team has gone. The opposing team was predicted to tromp our Jaguars.

The ref. called a penalty kick on us within 10 mins of the game and our rivals scored the first goal.

In the second quarter Fiona, finally realized the power and advantage she holds after scoring 5 points in the last three consecutive games. She ran and lead the pack kicking the ball while straddling the line between speed and ball-control. Dropping all competitors, she scored a goal and tied the game. The parents went crazy and the 11 year old girls on the field felt they had a chance. The shocked opposition marked Fiona as a target and the game continued. Double teaming our own #10, Fiona experienced her first round of reality sports. She was elbowed and elbowed back. She was tripped and hit the ground but got up again. Half time came and went-tie score.

With great coaching strategy the Silver Bullets coach placed two and three players on Fiona. Our players raised to the occasion and held the line on defense. Third quarter, fourth quarter-tie score.

In the last 8 minutes of the game Fiona, hit the ground again, got up slower this time. Parents held their collective breath. Taking a moment she rose with her resolve in tact. She went for the goal again, making a hard kick to a tangled array of Silver Bullets covering the goal for survival. Three kicks, 6 players within 2 feet of the line, the ball bounces off girls cleats
and gently rolls between the legs of the goal keeper. Fiona scores again!

With five minutes left our coach moves 80% of our team to our goal defending our line. Defense holds, but not without too many close calls. The Silver Bullets are something to beat. The whistle blows, the under dog wins. Fiona now scores all goals in the last three games, winning each game with her team mates incredible support. They advance to the next level coming from a starting position of 21st place.

Being Mama

Being Mama on a good day means that your jewelry matches while you blunge the overflowing toilet.

Victory for Momto

Some months ago my son started calling Jack, his father, Popto. Since my children were born my husband wanted to be known as Papa. He didn't want to be associated with the name he called his well meaning, not so well doing, father.....which was Dad. From Papa, on a calm summer evening came, "Pop, Popto-Bismol, Popta-licious, Poptorama, and The Popemheimer." Popto stuck. As a matter of fact Popto has taken strong roots in our home and has since branched out to Momto, Eee-to, (for Ian, the originator) and Fito or Fiona-to (for Fiona).

Tonight, with the kids in the other room, Momto takes a victory moment. Today while no one was looking, Momto roasted a red pepper and a yellow pepper. Not out of the ordinary, but then I pureed it with garlic, a tomato, and a half a cup of walnuts and stuck it in the meat loaf! While they eat their dinner and laugh about farts and who fell down on the playground today, I will smile knowing that antioxidants galore are going straight into their mouths and they can't do a thing about it! They are willing participants, involuntary slaves to their own good nutrition. I will relish the fact that underneath their baked potato I am hiding smashed yam. I am resolute that they are going to be an inch taller tomorrow.

It's the little victories that matter in life. The "I gotcha!" when they think they've got it all under control. The little victories over life and nutrition and children.

Score one for Momto!
It's been a good day.

Secret to Climbing a Tree

"If you want to climb a tree all you have to do is put on a shoe that's too big for you"

This sound advice just floated through my kitchen window from the mouth of our friend Jessie to my son.

Of course! Why didn't I think of that? Some things are so obvious!

:)
Life as Mama

Things that are really annoying

1. Kids that scream the statement, "YOU ARE SO ANNOYING!" in a very shrill annoying voice.
2. People from the 'Help Desk' that start every sentence with the word, "Um".
3. Fruit that goes bad in a day.
4. A leak in the kitchen sink that moves.
5. People that just don't get your kid.
6. People that just don't get you.
7. Taxes
8. Brand new socks that right after you buy them, one goes missing. The other sock, new, beautiful, soft taunts me.
9. When you work your ass off and prepare a nice meal and your kids look at it and say, "I don't like it" before they have even tried it.
10. Stupid people.
11. Bullshit homework assignments.
12. Anything that doesn't go my way.

First time ever

I am actually sitting here, with an ice pack, in my son's crack.

Yep.
It's never boring, that's for sure.

Life as Mama

Song like the First Day of Christmas

On the First Day of 50 My True Loves gave to me

Waking to broken glass

On the Second Day of 50 My True Loves gave to me

Two glasses spilling
and Waking to broken glass

On the Third Day of 50 My True Loves gave to me

Three lost assignments
Two glasses spilling
and Waking to broken glass

On the Fourth Day of 50 My True Loves gave to me

Four hours at a Spa
Three lost assignments
Two glasses spilling
and Waking to broken glass

On the Fifth Day of 50 My True Loves gave to me

Five Good Night kisses
Four hours at a Spa
Three lost assignments
Two glasses spilling
and Waking to broken glass

On the Sixth Day of 50 My True Loves gave to me

Six Whining Complaints
Five Good Night kisses
Four hours at a Spa
Three lost assignments
Two glasses spilling
and Waking to broken glass

On the Seventh Day of 50 My True Loves gave to me

Seven Loads of Laundry
Six Whining Complaints
Five Good Night kisses
Four hours at a Spa
Three lost assignments
Two glasses spilling
and Waking to broken glass

On the Eighth Day of 50 My True Loves gave to me

Eight reasons to smile
Seven Loads of Laundry
Six Whining Complaints
Five Good Night kisses
Four hours at a Spa
Three lost assignments
Two glasses spilling
and Waking to broken glass

On the Ninth Day of 50 My True Loves gave to me

Nine ounces of toothpaste in the sink
Eight reasons to smile
Seven Loads of Laundry
Six Whining Complaints
Five Good Night kisses
Four hours at a Spa
Three lost assignments
Two glasses spilling
and Waking to broken glass

Always interesting

This afternoon I stepped out in my back yard to grab something, I don't even know what when I saw my meat cleaver sitting on the swing. This sounds really odd and almost gruesome, but around here it an every day thing. Of course my meat cleaver is out here. Of course there is one roller skate in my bed. Of course my favorite jacket has been lost at school when it was borrowed by my daughter. Of course, that's life as a mom.
One day I decided to write down how many things I encountered when I stepped into the shower. The list reads as follows; one measuring cup, two dinosaurs, Batman, Barbie- no arms, wooden spoon, three Matchbox cars, one large rock, two cereal bowls, three unidentifiable actions figures, one mushy piece of soap left in the water too long, scissors.
I'd be lying if I didn't say that it gets to me sometimes. But thank goodness I am more amused than ticked.
Life as Mama

Sun glasses

Wearing sun glasses in the bathtub on a rainy day.

Of course!

Moments that my kid was home before I had to clean up something he did

Two

Glue on the dish, glue on the hot pad, glue on the dirty dishes in the sink followed by one cut finger during moment three.

Life as Mama!

He's 8

He's going out to the car in the rain to get the umbrella, so when he goes outside, to check the rain, he doesn't get wet.

He's 8.

One bathroom

It's so frustrating that as soon as I decide to splurge on some over-priced bath product my son uses it all up in two days! "Oh it feels so good on my skin Mama! I'm slippery! I smell really nice!". "Yea, I'd like to feel it too honey. Can you save me some?" Then when I go to pamper myself the brand new beautifully graphically designed bottle is empty, laying askew on the bathtub floor-like it was calling for help and I'm too late. Damn!

This is completely in opposition to my daughter who has a strong aversion to soap or any other cleaning product. I think diagnostically it could be an over sensitivity to the feeling, but it sure makes the two of them interesting when it comes to figuring out the bathing situation around here. She uses nothing, not the best, but she does like to soak. He uses everything, not the best, and he likes to soak.

Somewhere in there is room for Mama. That's after Papa also uses the nice bath products as he thinks I surely bought them for him!Ah well, it's a good clean life.

Who's really being punished?

When I leave my daughters gym bag in the back of the car, so she has to search for it later on in the week when she needs it and all the stinky stuff in it. Is she learning 'natural consequences' of not prepping it and keeping track of it? Or am I punished all week by driving with foot sweat and 'Ode' to the Game', in the back of my car?



I need a bumper sticker that reads, "It's not my car that smells, I'm disciplining my child!"