Confessions of a stressed-out mom

Why in the world would an intelligent, fairly put-together woman like me fall for the marketing ploys of U.S. advertisers telling me I’m so much less than acceptable?

I’m usually quite o.k. about my self-image until it happens… (and frankly it’s happening a bit early this season) my husband and I get invited to a party.

I love socializing. I hate thinking about what’s appropriate to wear and how I will look in it. I know, I know… "then don’t think about it idiot," you say.

I can’t help it. The images of "perfect" women haunt me. The Dove advertising campaign of "Real Women, Real Bodies" hasn’t sunk in yet.

I’m KNOW for a fact I am not alone on this. What I can’t figure out is why we, as women, can’t break free! Why! WHY WHY!!!!

I going to think that one over a hot fudge sundae…

It took him 30 seconds… 45 tops.

The Two-Year-Old out-did himself this morning.

During the time it took me to refill my coffee cup and stick it in the microwave for 30 seconds, he managed to locate, uncover, and work his magic with a green marker. He also found time to take off his diaper and pee on the kitchen floor.

The green art was on my kitchen floor, ran down the length of the hallway, stopping briefly at the white bathroom door — which apparently needed some color. It continued to the stairway banister, and continued across a good portion of the living room walls. He didn’t miss the beautiful grandmother clock my parents gave us either (woodwork, glass and all).

Amazing.

Can you imagine if I could capture that kind of focus, intensity and drive? Oh, the things I could accomplish!

He is currently serving a time-out in his crib. I’m going to leave him there until I can get another cup full of coffee in my system. I think I’m going to need it today.

My parents are coming tomorrow. Not for a visit, though… they are coming for good.

In the last several months since they made the decision to move permanently to Fargo, I have found myself in the position of answering the same question repeatedly: "Is this good?"

Yes, it’s good – At least I think it’s good. I mean, in my head where fairy tales DO come true, it’s quite good…    I think.

Nah, I know it’s good! HOW can it be bad? Now, if this arrangment had come about 10 years ago — bad. VERY bad. I was 28 years old then… I was still their kid. I was still trying to break free.

Now, at 38, I’m an adult – Holy cow, I have four kids of my own. I am a parent, even if some days I hold that title questionably.

Did I mention they are moving down the street from me? Uhm, maybe I didn’t. Did I mention they will be within walking distance for even The Two-Year-Old? 

Enough about the jokes, I AM excited about it and so is my family — yes, even my husband is excited — hey, his parents moved to Moorhead about 5 years ago and that’s been awesome for us and the kids. We spend more time socializing with them than anyone else.  Yes, about 10 years ago, it wouldn’t have worked, but it’s amazing what 10 years will do to people. I have learned to truly appreciate my parents for who they are AND they appreciate me. We don’t always agree, but we do accept and love each other.

Guess what my mom says everyone has said to her since she announced she was moving down the street from her daughter? "Is this good?"

Today was a "No Tolerance Day".

For about 363 days a year, I manage to find tolerance for almost everything. Here’s a very short list:

- open boxes of cereal half-eaten and clevery hidden under the couch cushions.

- a brand new jacket my son just "had to have" tossed on the garage floor, obviously used as some cleaning mechanism.

- telling me teeth are brushed when clearly, the toothbrush is dry as the Sahara and the toothpaste still has it’s seal.

- laundry that has been washed, 50% dried, then thrown into a basket when I wasn’t around… only to be found a day later by me, dried to a crumpled crisp.

- picking up the mess I call home before I go to bed only to wake up the next morning to find that apparently Hurricane Ophelia has made it inland to my street address.

How can four boys, a husband and two small dogs do so much in so little time? I can’t seem to accomplish anything in a day.

A "No Tolerance Day" is a day when I release all the pressure built up inside by yelling very loudly, thus frightening my children into action (because I don’t yell very often). Believe me, I’ve tried the chore lists, reward systems, punishment systems… they don’t work for me. They are MORE work than me doing it myself.

I am only one woman in a house where I need to be fifty women.

God, I need a wife.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I don’t think I’m ovulating. I swear it was the cool breeze that made me do it. I am on a MAJOR eating rampage. I think my body senses cold weather a’ comin’ and my appetite went into high gear. I couldn’t eat enough.

It started yesterday around 2 pm and it hasn’t slowed down yet. I am craving comfort food of all kinds — soup, stew, warm sandwiches and yes, chocolate. Mostly chocolate. I washed down two "Big Size" candy bars yesterday with a Diet Coke. Man, it was good. Nothing compares to the short-lived joy I feel from a sugar rush. I wish celery sticks and a V-8 could be that good for me…

Oh… it got worse (or better, depending on how you look at it). I had a piece of chocolate cake with ice cream at night. It wasn’t too "die for" chocolate cake, but it had to do — it’s all I could get my hands on at the time.

Hummm, right now… I am SO CRAVING a Culver’s Turtle Sundae. If you haven’t tried Culver’s ice cream — you haven’t felt the height of ecstacy. Seriously. It is that good.

It’s gotta be my hormones.

Before I get started… cheers to those of you who commented on the spanking and tantrum posts. I appreciate the discussion. If anyone would like to discuss any other particular parenting issue, please let me know. Hey, I’m open to anything.

Today my husband and I got a much appreciated "thank you" from ONE of the three boys we took on a little trip to the Cities.

Why is it that only one of them thought to say "thanks" is what I want to know? Being grateful can’t be hereditary — otherwise they all would have said it… and it can’t be learned — otherwise they all would have said it – right?

We took the three of them to Valleyfair on Saturday then a Vikings game on Sunday. About halfway through the Vikings game, our 5-year-old blurted out of nowhere, "Dad and mom, thanks for this trip. It was really fun."

The other two complained about the Metrodome not having "dippin’ dots" anymore… this little kindergartener says "thank you."

What did we do with him that we seemed to miss with the others?

- and thank God those damn dippin’ dots are gone.

I was spanked on occasion by my parents. I don’t know if a good "heart-to-heart" discussion about why little girls shouldn’t pull their pants down for the little boy next door would’ve impressed me as much as my sore bottom did back then.

I haven’t followed in my parents "parenting-style" footsteps. When our first son was born, I was under some strange dillusional philosophy that even saying "no" to your kid was wrong. Believe me, I have since abandoned that idea completely. Needless to say, spanking was out of the question.

Lately, however, I’ve been tempted…. oh so tempted, you know? Is spanking all that bad? It worked on me and my sister and brother. My parents didn’t have to spank us all that much — a couple times did the trick and we got it. Nowadays parents have to do the timeout thing, the sit and talk about it thing. We aren’t supposed to say things like "because I told you so", "because I’m the parent", "and as long as you are living under my roof… you’ll do as I say". But why can’t we say those things?

Who the heck made up these new rules to parent by?!

On the one hand, we allow our kids to watch television – filled with violence, sex, disregard for authority figures – but heaven forbid we swat them for disobeying for the umpteenth time. We allow our kids to play video games that degrad women and allow them to blow up people for fun – but we can’t say to them…"you’ll do it because I said so…"

When I’ve had a heck of a day with my kids, I’ll often call my mom and vent. She says, "You never did that to me. You knew I was the mom and you had to listen."
She’s right. I did listen and I respected her and my father. Was it perfect? No, but whose family is perfect?

So I throw out for conversation the subject of spanking.

What do you think?

My house is silent with the exception of the hum of the air conditioner.

I don’t think I know the last time this has happened. Maybe never?

My husband has taken the three older children to a movie and the Two-Year-Old mercifully went down for a nap with no struggle.

Hummmm?  What do I do with this precious peace? I’ve got to act quickly, who knows how long I’ll have… do I take a nap, read a book, clean, surf the web… so many possibilities!

I think I’ll do something even more special than sleeping. I’ll veg.

Wow. This is going to be something I’m going to remember for a long time to come.

My thoughts and attention have revolved around the parents and children affected by Hurricane Katrina.

So many images of mothers and fathers holding tiny infants, toddlers and children looking completely bewildered, and worn…

My prayer each night for my own children is for their health, safety and happiness. To not have at least some control over those things would be overwhelming and terrifying for me. I cannot begin to imagine how parents in Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama are dealing with it. 

What’s even more sad, is knowing that this kind of human misery goes on all over the world. Katrina forces us to see it.

My kindergartener is an expert at applying lipstick to his eyebrows. His precision is absolutely amazing! I’ve seen women at the grocery store who can’t put lipstick on their lips as well as he puts it on his eyebrows.

The question I have is why my he thinks lipstick goes on the eyebrows? I don’t think I’ve been a role model for this type of behavior. Admittedly, what kind of parental role model can I even call myself for OWNING bright red lipstick.

The big problem with this is that red lipstick — especially bright red — does not come off very well. It is particularly difficult to get it off eyebrows… quickly… without smearing it all over the face…. minutes before we have to get to kindergarten.

I told him to tell people he got sunburned.

Today was a little harder.

Any ideas how to get those temporary tatoos off foreheads?