Red Flags

To my darling oldest,

Being the oldest child come's with certain responsibilities. Therefore, when I am in the kitchen, I should not hear the following conservation take place between you and your brother: "OK N get on your knees and tuck your head under so I don't hurt it. OK, now hold still, I am going to stand on your back"
Please know my son that someday he may be bigger then you and, well, payback honey payback is all I can say.
xoxo Mommy

I have noticed there have been a series of Red Flags in my daily life. A few weeks ago, I hear the above conversation between my sons. I am listening, I hear "tuck your head under" (Red Flag 1),  "hold still" (Red Flag 2), "OK I am going to stand on your back now" (RED FLAG!!) I yell into the other room "What are you doing to your brother?!?"  The mater of fact (with a hint of duh mom) answer "using him for a blast pad" well of course, silly me what else would you use your 4 year old brother for.

I am not sure where boy's seem to learn these things, I have my suspects though:

I should insert a photo of their father here also, he is the one who introduced the kids to this cast of ill behaved cartoon characters but for the sake of my marriage, I will keep his identity hidden (see first blog "Man is he going to be pissed)

So I will resort to blaming my children's behavior on Disney and Boomerang.

Here is a list of the Red Flags that I have encountered this week:

Wet spot on bathroom floor near potty, is it water or pee (when I see the spray on the side of the potty  I have my answer)

Where is your sister? I don't know? (never a good sign to lose track of your 2 year old)

MOMMY!!! (nothing good ever follows)

My tummy hurts (need I say more)

Mommy the dog (enter one of the 100 nasty things our dog does daily that I then have to clean up)

CRASH!

My 6 year old's new vocabulary words (which I am sure will win me an award with the PTA) including Friggin (when corrected on the inappropriateness of this word say's "can I just say The F word", Wuzz Upppp, No you didn't, OOOO my nuts and the ever charming "butt nut".

Honey, I may have a meeting this afternoon (Red Flag for, my children will all lose their minds at 5:00)

Who left the baby gate open??

and perhaps (or not) the most disturbing Red Flag of the week, when we sit down to dinner tonight, my darling almost 2 year old daughter points to my glass and say's "Mommy's wine"

so after a week filled with Red Flags there is only one thing for me to do, raise my own flag

 .









Any Red Flags at your place this week??

Naked

Really, I can think of no better title because there is so much naked at my house these days. Leaving the house last week, I have all 3 kids in the car, hats, coats, dressed....or so I thought. As I climb into the car, I see N has on no socks, it is 30 degrees out, we are running late, natural consequences, your feet will be cold, then he sheepishly say's "I don't have underwear on either". Please know that for a split second the words tough shit dangled so deliciously on my lips. But for fear of DSS, back into the house we go for underwear and socks.

This seems to be an ongoing theme with this child, he is adverse to underwear. He will put them on only if reminded, as if I have the mental capacity at this stage to remember one more thing. I shudder to think how many day's I have sent him to school without underwear on.

The naked theme takes a turn for the worse at bath time when I have 3 children running around the house naked and my blessed youngest can't help but grab at her brothers well, you know, like it is a toy, if you stay naked to long and M sees you, be sure you are in for a yank or a grab. She however finds great delight in chasing down her brothers and making them scream. Guess this is the beginning of the payback that will shuffle back and forth between them for many delightful years to come.

M herself has learned to strip down in a matter of seconds, no clothing can stand in her way. She has a fine future ahead or her for sure. She has decided that she would like to sit on the potty after she has stripped down and has realized that it is a good ploy to stay naked longer. "M come put your diaper on"  M responds "No potty" runs back to the potty sits and shoves her hand into the potty, "M get your hand out of there" "NO POTTY" this goes on and on because I am tired, I am sure I make 90% of my parenting mistakes just because I am tired, they (she) have worn me out.



When I came into my bathroom the other day I was confronted by the following sight

I found this image to sum up my life and house in so many different ways.
 Really, what say's "I love you Mom" more than a naked headless doll waving to you on the potty.

The true joy never ends in my home (someone make it stop please)

I have entered a new demographic

Reading my magazines, in the quite of my room as I watch some wonderful docudrama like Teen Mom or Toddler's and Tiara's, I have come to the shocking realazation that the magazine's I read are no longer about 25 way's to meet a man, hot horoscopes, sextini's or this season's micro bikini. They are filled with way's to flatten my belly, make dinner in one pot in under 10 minutes, how to make my hair look fuller, my lips fuller and my hips and butt less full. I now read about 50 medical tests I need before I turn 40 (yikes soon).

As I go through the day I notice all of my products from my moisturizer to my body wash include some promise of the following, age defying, age reversal, age diminishing, wrinkle control, maximum, minimize, soften, silken.

Sigh, I have entered a new demographic, I am no longer the Cosmo girl, I am the Cosmo girl's older, mature sister. The one telling her "you will never meet a man to marry if you don't stop sleeping with every guy you meet at the bar". "Are you sure he has a job". The one looking on with some envy, "you slept till noon, had brunch, sex and went back to sleep"

I am now the demographic that get's exicited about the Shark Steam Mop that is a gift when you purchase their new never lose suction vacume (which I am DYING to buy, I watch the informerical with all the revel that I used to watch Real World) and then fall over Batman, Superman and 3 baby dolls trying to get to the phone when they knock off one more payment!

The thrill of this steam mop and vacuum is something that should embarrass me, but it doesn't. It doesn't because the minute I mention this mop to any of my friends, they get the same glow on their face and the excitement builds in their voices too. The discussion over this mop rivals a Sunday morning bloody mary while rehashing last night's walk of shame.

 While we are on the topic of suction, I am also in demographic that want's suction but only if it involves suctioning fat from a part of our body. We are all looking to lift, reduce, smooth and just make it go away.

Jealous of the younger set, you may think so but I am not. Here is why, I no longer have to wear matching bra's and panties if I don't want to, I can sleep in an old t-shirt, not shave my legs every day (or even shower).
I don't have to wonder if he will call, if he likes me, if he is thinking of me, if he is going to ask me out or dump me. I can go to bed at 8:30 on a Friday and not be a loser or lame.

I have the confidence that I wish I had had when I was 20, 25 and yes even 30. I don't have to worry about speaking my mind and being concerned what someone will think say or care.  I have entered the demographic of peace, of self confidence. The demographic of being grateful for the wonderful man I have married, the beautiful (plotting) children I have and the generous, kind fabulous women who allow me to call them my friends.

So if this is what 40 is going to bring, I say bring it on! I will slap on the cream, do the sit ups, make 10 minute  meals in one pot and love every minute of it (now I may be singing another tune next year when I am really facing 40, from almost 39, it doesn't look to bad).

And if anyone is looking for a really great birthday present for me. I have posted a picture of "my lover" (as Carrie Bradshaw would say) below. I dare you to not get excited about it!



The object of my affection

Mommy Olympics

Today I am departing from my usual child whinefest to write an open letter to mommy's everywhere about a subject we are all aware of but refuse to talk about. I call them the Mommy Olympics.


The Mommy Olympics is a series of races we began to compete in once we even thought about having children. The first competition, who would get the first dose of baby dust, who would be the first to get the stick to turn blue, make 2 lines, beep, scream whatever your stick (or sticks) did to alert you that you have won your first medal in the Mommy Olympics. Once you mastered this first feat, you were able to move into the Olympic village of Mommyhood. From our warm cozy village, we watched as some of our friends, no matter how hard they trained could not grasp the gold medal of pregnancy. We felt sad for them, we worried about our medal's shine and how that shine felt each time they saw us each time we grew into a new uniform. Some of our friends finally grabbed the gold and moved into the village with us. As the village grew we began to see that the competition was stiff and the decisions to be made could have lasting impact on our pursuit of medal status. The questions and silence our answers sometimes brought ( It's OK to have the tuna right?) made us question our athletic ability (we are all in this together right??) The questions and doubts begin to pile up, small glass of wine? Drugs or no drugs? Birth in the hospital, birthing center, home, bathtub, woods, jungle, at sunrise at sunset. The choices were dizzying, if I make the wrong move will I lose?

But we have our fellow mommy's right? We are all in this together, we are all on the same team. Well, maybe not, it seems like we should be but suddenly you see camps forming within our Olympic village. Now we are like distant countries, huddled together to try and beat the other side to the gold. Perhaps the stress of 9 months of vomiting, stretching, not sleeping and 1 too many bowls of Apple Jacks has taken it's toll. Once we finish this next marathon we will be able to regroup and our team will heal.

So after many month's we move out of the village one by one as our next medal makes it's arrival, screaming all the way home.

Now that we are though the hard part, these Olympics must be over, we will all go back to the team we were.

Unless you, go back to work or stay home or breastfeed or bottle feed or breast and bottle feed, if you use a pacifier, if you don't, if you let them cry it out, if you rock your medal to sleep or GASP if sleep with your medal. The judges table never seems to be satisfied no matter how hard you try.

These mini competitions never seem to end, the stakes keep rising and the medals become even more difficult to attain. Eating, crawling, sitting up, walking talking singing, dancing, jumping running, whatever skill it is there is a who did it first, Pre-School, when did YOU start? "Ohhh she's not potty trained yet hmm, well she won't go to kindergarten in a diaper will she." Activities, "well, I had Muffy in dance, music, violin, and drivers education at 18 months, you can never start to early when Harvard is a stake." School, public, private, hold them back a year, start on time, it never seems to end. Conventional, Organic, local, homemade and that is just for baby food.

What is my point to all this bitching and moaning? It is really not a point, it is a question. Why?

It seems like the group of people who should be the most supportive of mother's is the least. The Mommy Olympics has changed the sisterhood of women we were. We secretly judge each move another mom makes. Are we really that insecure in our abilities as mom's that we have to rat our other athletes out for steroid (or McDonald's for dinner) to the judges?

Does it really matter if we work, stay at home, home school, private school, make our baby food or hand loom with Organic cotton each frock our darlings ever put on their precocious bodies? Or does it matter that we can make decisions that work for us, work for our families and our children and know without judgment we have a squad of Olympic caliber athletes standing behind us to cheer us on and help us to reach the most desired medal of all, happy, healthy well adjusted children (that grow up and move away so we can have lunches that once again involve wine).

Don't get me wrong, I know that there are mom's who are the best support another mom could want. I have some of the best mom's I know as my friends and could not do my job without them but we are in the same Olympic village, we pretty much have the same viewpoints. I am talking about mommyhood as a whole. I am guilty of judging other mom's ( I have become much less judgy after my 3rd child who has totally pushed me over the edge of sanity) I am talking about the mom you see at Starbucks with 1 child and a nanny in tow, the mom who drops her kids off at daycare in the morning and picks them up at dinner, the mom who has a medical degree but gave it all up to stay home and run carpool, the business woman who now runs book fair like it's a Fortune 500 company. The mom's who don't do things the way we do, or the way we think they should.

You may not agree with me and you may live in Mommyutopia but there must be something to it. There have been several excellent books written on the subject.

Maybe check one out:

The Mommy Myth

http://www.amazon.com/Mommy-Myth-Idealization-Motherhood-Undermined/dp/0743260465/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1262219907&sr=8-1


Mommy Wars
http://www.amazon.com/Mommy-Wars-Stay-at-Home-Choices-Families/dp/0812974484/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1262219968&sr=8-1

http://www.amazon.com/Truth-Behind-Mommy-Wars-Decides/dp/1580051294/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1262219968&sr=8-2

The Truth Behind the Mommy Wars

I Was a Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids

http://www.amazon.com/Was-Really-Good-Before-Kids/dp/081185650X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1262210139&sr=1-1

The next time you look down at your nose at that mom in Target with 3 kids all in their pajamas eating lollipops and slushes at 10 AM, don't judge, her, she is in this with you and would really appreciate a supportive smile, you know, I have been there before

Oh how has this happened to me

As my friends on Facebook know, I have a huge problem with my middle one. He is well, how do I put this, a bit of a ummmm class Casanova.

At the tender age of 4, my darling son has 2 girls who take turns rubbing his back during nap, 1 girl who carries his backpack as consolation for his refusal to hold her hand and has informed me recently that he needs to keep mint gum with him so he "has minty breath when he kisses the girls"

I have investigated this troubling situation with his teachers. First of all there is no kissing going on and now that she knows, they are on the look out (sorry N, if you were older I would not have blocked you)

There are girls rubbing his back, there is no stopping this. The backpack carrier wants to be able to hold onto the back strap of his backpack on the way to the bus (we are starting carpool next week!) I at this point will issue my blanket apology to mother's, father's and their daughters:

Dear (fill in your daughter's name)

I am so sorry that N (dumped you, did not ask you to prom, did not call the next day, asked your sister out or any other wrong he has done). His father and I have tried to teach him to be a sweet boy who is kind to everyone. This has apparently backfired as he seems to have taken it to an extreme with young ladies. I know he means well, there is just not enough of him to go around (his words, not mine). Please do not hold this against us. I know someday you will meet a wonderful boy that will take good care of you. Before you ask, yes, I do have another son and no you can't go out with him.

Best of Luck!
N's mom