...little 5 letter words...

In 1988, I was in 7th grade. I was the youngest child. I was "active-ish" in school, but my school was small and basically 'no-cut' for almost everything you tried out for. It was nice to be/feel a part of something, so I am not begrudging it. But, at the same time there was very little to do but school and the occasional after school activity. There were no cell phones, no social media, no messenger systems set up. If I was somewhere, I knew I would be picked up at the predetermined time. I lived in a smallish town, it was safe and I was never more than a 15 minute walk from home.

In 2018, I have a 7th grader. He is off season in any extracurricular activities, he  is less than 10 minutes from home at any given time. Tonight, for the first time, he was out by himself without an older brother at a basketball game. Funny how different 2018 is than 1988. He doesn't have a cell phone, neither did I, yet I was nervous. He is only four blocks from home, yet I was nervous. He lives in a smaller town than I did at his age, yet I was nervous. Despite the fact that we predetermined a time for him to be home, I was watching the clock like someone tracking contractions during labor....And cleansing breath.

I would like to think I learned something just by being a parent, but I am also aware that the title of parenting is a marathon, not a sprint. Sometimes, just a difference in perspective can be really eye opening, I am grateful for my husband to give me such perspective when I need it. We were talking about the kids one day, the routine rant about parenting and how I had hoped the kid's TELL ALL book at least was not sporting my face. My husband said something that seriously engrained in my brain, "You have to give them enough independence to prove themselves eventually. How will they ever learn if they do not learn it on their own?" This simple statement was like getting hit on the head by an anvil. While it is slightly cringe-worthy to a 'smother mother,' it is definitely a lesson for the both of us. You send them off, in this case with the lack of technology in their back pocket, completely blind and hope that they will prove within themselves the maturity they have. But moreover prove themselves to you, the person who brought them into this world, during a full moon,  and will take them out without question.

I found myself pacing, looking out the window, wondering if he would be coming back on time or not. I was slightly spoiled with his older brother who would come home 10 minutes before his curfew on the regular. Clearly, I know this will at-some-point end, but experience is what experience is. I thought to myself, with no external connection, how do I know where he is? If he is safe? If he's stealing liquor? But then, looking at the moon in exchange with the clock, I thought of the five letter word echoing through my head. The word that could bond you and your child in a way you might have been longing for since they started their "HELLISH-12s"(it is a thing, no one has the guts to bare to you). I would like to be able to belt it like Aretha, but the word of which I speak of in hushed reverent tones is...TRUST.

This word is dangerous, frightening, inspiring, gut wrenching and at times life altering. It means completely different things as your precious offspring grow up, but the first time you really feel it, deep in your knees, it is not only noteworthy, but there should be a cocktail/chocolate reward at the end...your choice. It is not taken lightly in this house, it has to be earned. Trust is something that can make your heart swell or break it on the turn of a dime. Trust is not a word used often during the phase of the "HELLISH-12s," except when you hear your inner monologue saying, trust me we are going to party like it is 1999 when this phase is over. I pray that we are turning the corner on this phase, but TRUST me in this fact, I know I still have a year left.

...waiting on the Mensa application

We learn more from what we get wrong in life than what we get right...

If this phrase is true, which I believe it is, I am figuratively preparing my Mensa application as we speak, because I must be a fragging genius, teeming with knowledge. The adage of we learn from our mistakes holds true of course, but what if you cannot afford the mistake? Everyday life hands you something you can get wrong, but what if want to see your gaffe before it is too late? Welcome to parenthood.

I had to recently explain the idiom, (to) squeeze water from a stone, to my 5 year old. He heard me read this to him from an Irish folklore book. The fact that the characters were talking to leprechauns didn't throw him, but this idiom did. I attempted to muddle through with examples, hoping I didn't have to Google it to actually have it make sense. The best I came up with was it was it was difficult to get something from someone or something if they were unwilling. Blank look from Atticus...I think I even heard a cricket chirp. Okay. A further attempt to explain it involved the notion that sometimes things are hard, and no matter how hard we try we wouldn't be able to accomplish it. Hell, now I'm depressed. I broke it down finally like this...Remember the other day, when EVERYONE was in a bad mood? Even me? Yeah, well getting everyone happy on that day, was like trying to squeeze water from a stone. He nodded his head, I'm not sure if it was that he understood or he was just trying to get me to shut up.

Then, as I am trying to pull my thoughts from my cluttered head onto this laptop, I was asked by my precious flower of a daughter, if I could help her flush the toilet. Really? We live in a 130 year old house, the pipes are old and the last time the plumber was here he explained that I needed an industrial plunger...INDUSTRIAL? I really don't want to make that kind of commitment. What I do want for this specific child to understand that a "courtesy flush" is not a frightening thing. It won't suck her into the 130 year old pipes. It will help her when she is flush-ready, and she is 7 years old and should be able to flush a toilet. Alone. So, instead of trying to squeeze water from a stone, she learned from what she got wrong in her bathroom solitude (seriously envious of the free time my children spend sitting on the toilet). She flushed it and plunged it. Herself. If she is ever visiting any of you reading this, I pre-apologize.

I was talking to someone who was expecting their fourth child this morning. I remember thinking what she was thinking, and while we were talking I had a strange feeling come over me. It was one of fear but also smugness. The fear was what I felt when I had no idea how I would parent four children at once...how would I meet to all of their needs? The notion of being outnumbered, and a mutiny could arise at any moment? The smugness was in the form of self-satisfaction or pride in knowing that I've been there and done that, I don't need a t-shirt, I don't remember every detail, and thankfully I am not a card carrying member of Betty Ford. This woman's story is just getting started. She has years before...puberty.

I talk about it ad nauseum, but here is some more for you. I cannot wake up my children, a few in particular, without saying a prayer, taking a deep breath, and mentally thanking my own mother for not selling me to the circus. I HAD TO ACT JUST LIKE THIS? RIGHT? Oh, don't answer that right away, I would almost start crying. Between my hormone imbalances and my teenager's? I mentally see us in a UFC ring, the chain link all around, poised and waiting for the bell to start our verbal skirmishes. I don't want to fight. Honestly, I don't. I mean I honestly DON'T. I wish there was a pill, homeopathic of course, that you could just take to deal with the fact that your teenager was all knowing. I could take one in the morning with my coffee, by the time said teenager came into view the effects of said pill would already be in your system. You could hear all about how he knows this, or how his siblings are doing that wrong or how dumb it is that he can't wear shorts to school when it's 32 degrees out. You would just nod your head, kind of like being explained an idiom, and your lack of response/expression would almost calm him as well. He's a good kid. We'll get through this. It is just a phase. But clearly, I'm learning from what I'm getting wrong in this situation, because to him I rarely do anything right.

I took Atticus to his kindergarten screening today. How is that even possible? Really? I was nervous for him, I didn't want him to be shy under pressure. I was handed forms and he sat down and started answering questions. As I was filling the forms out, it was odd to hear his little voice, explaining this and that or not quite understanding what he was asked. I am grateful that I got to spend this last year home with him, like I did all the rest of the kids. A silver lining, an occasional cocktail and the notion that every morning when I start the coffee, starts another day I get to learn from my many mistakes and be grateful I'm here to make them. If I got any of that wrong, I guess in this case, I don't want to be right.

I'm still a chump...

There are those times in life, when you stumble upon what is referred to as a "life hack." Last night, while watching TV with my kids, in the hopes to wind them down for a nice night's sleep, we came upon an animated Lego show. They were babbling away and then this Lego piece came up on the screen. I said, "What is that? I have thrown about 15 of those away in the last couple of years...what's the point?" Oscar, not taking his eyes off the screen said, "...oh, that is a Lego Brick Separator...they come with every Lego set." So, I asked him to elaborate.

After 12 years of parenting, MILLIONS of Legos found, stepped on, swept up and thrown away, this little odd looking tool helps separate Lego creations, where possibly little fingers cannot cut the mustard. I found myself dumbfounded. What? When? How long has this been going on? How many other "life hacks" are out there that I am unaware of? What was I doing with my life?

Among the many things that I ponder in the late night/early morning hours, I constantly question if I am getting things done right. I wonder why I chose one selection of words instead of another. I question if I will ever walk away from one disagreement or another that I might have with my kids and think, good job. At the rate life is moving, I want to laugh at the chump who was raising kids in my house 3 years ago. She didn't know how good she had it. They were shorter, younger, slower, dependent and less verbal than they are now. I have told my mother recently on more than one occasion, how much I respect her for not selling me to gypsies when I was 12 years old. I know all about "The Strong Willed Child," but I haven't heard of the "Mouthy Pre-Teen Mantra,"...what I assume should be the companion book.

The mother who was raising kids in this house 3 years ago, was more trying to keep up with a toddler than policing social media, arguing about who is in charge and more over having to mentally fight the urge to say to one or more of my kids, "You are not always RIGHT!" I know lately, I have routinely also uttered the phrase, "...well, you need to just let that go." I have said it to bickering kids, almost bickering kids, kids who cannot stand the sight of each other and also to myself. But when does that mantra become effective? Where is my LEGO BRICK SEPARATOR?!


I love my kids more than they will ever know. I am ultimately hoping that this rut in the road of parenting will become easier, more manageable, and at some point less stressful...maybe we just need spring? I know, I'm a still a chump. There are no life hacks for raising kids I'm figuring out. There are no magical mantras or cocktails that will make things easier. I have been told that one day, I will miss these trying times of parenting. Get ahold of me in 20 years, sitting on my front porch with not a thing to do, and I'll let you know.

Autumn and the voice of reason...

...my favorite time of year is finally upon us, autumn. With the temperature outside being warmer than it was on the first day of summer...it is a stretch to really feel its presence, as one or more  have been sick for the last 3 weeks in this house. At this point, I need autumn. I yearn for autumn. It has been my antidepressant for years, and at times when I have had to deal with the hardest things in life. We have had a long lasting relationship, autumn and I. In German it is called "Herbst," I always loved that word.  It is the embodiment of all good things: Charlie Brown, pumpkin patches, hot bon fires, hot chocolate and cozy blankets. As the leaves change, it is a gentle reminder that so does life. You either jump into the moving car, or get hit by it...

There have been some subtle and not so subtle changes going on in this house. The preteen quotient is soaring, and frankly I was telling someone today, "If there were a military school close enough to just use as a threat, it would be appreciated." I know noting. I was never in Jr. High School. I'm lucky to have a driver's license. The not so subtle comments mixed with small doses of testosterone and drama- yeah, I have three more times to go through this, and we are yet to the hard part. Terrifying, troublesome and TITO'S come to mind. I keep trudging away with my harebrained notions, like a pack mule going up and down the same dusty road day after day...someday I will know what I'm talking about. I was in 7th grade at one time, but I was never a boy. I have to remind myself of that. When everyone else around you has a dropping voice, five o'clock shadow and pit hair- and you aren't there yet, you have something to try to prove. Sadly, I get caught in the crossfire. It is about understanding the day, understanding the way and putting a mental "pin" in things that you know you're going to have to deal with three more times.

With the start of school, it has been sort of nice for everyone to have something to do, something new to discuss at the dinner table or something routinely to look forward to. A couple weeks ago, I was helping Atticus off with his shoes, talking about his day- and it hit me. He was talking a mile a minute, describing things into great detail, and I was sort of in awe. He wasn't speaking in a sort of baby way, he was using big words, using his hands to speak, he was instantly grown. It probably was happening subtly, but I nearly fell over as it sort of caught me off guard. Since then, I've noticed he has become this ball buster. Day to day speaking to my kids, they tune me out sometimes I don't blame them. Maybe because I speak too much? Maybe because they don't want to hear what I have to say? In the last two weeks I will say something, and it is crickets. The next thing I know, Atticus is sternly announcing, "HOW ABOUT WE ALL CALM DOWN HERE AND QUIT ARGUING." The first time, I almost laughed out loud. But since then, it's like he's my mental evaluator, letting everyone involved know, that indeed this chick is going to lose it, you don't get a second warning. Tonight it happened, and I just pointed at him and said, "Ah, the voice of reason..."

To many, autumn is the not so subtle reminder that winter is just around the corner. To them, it isn't the beauty of the colors all around them, but the dying off and the subsequent clean up. I guess I look at this season differently because it has also represented some very hard things in my life...change that no one asked for, clean up that no one wanted to face. But in that same moment I have to remind myself that there is definitely something bigger, a higher power, because how could anything that is dying off be so beautiful? How could any time of the year just by becoming crisper outdoors bring people together? No matter what this time of year has brought me, I am reminded of where I am, why I am here, and how lucky I am to get to enjoy it...with the voice of reason and my possible reasons for Tito's.