There is a Tween in the House.

Amber became 10 years old on June 16 of this year.  There was a party, cake and presents, but no notification that there would be a tween in the house and all that comes along with that.  To say we were not ready for this stage in her childhood is an understatement.  I have learned that as a parent that I am constantly learning along with my children.  Also, that I have to go through some growing pains, too.  The first time around sucked and this time around I have been able to recognize the suck and do my best to turn the suck around.

Amber has always had drama around her, but add tween moodiness, selfishness, and only wanting to do only the fun stuff in life you have an explosive combination.  At first we didn’t really know what was going on.  SoHubby and I would whisper, “Could it be…?”.  ”NO, it couldn’t be!”  Oh but it was.  We have entered into the first stage of puberty and we have been knocked on our asses.  The moodiness we have been use to for awhile.  The same could be said for the drama.  I have learned to listen, roll my eyes out of eyesight and simply mention that maybe she shouldn’t worry so much about it, because, surely, it will be different by tomorrow.  We didn’t know that the moodiness and drama would be upped.  Another problem, that our parents didn’t face, was the drama gets to continue on through constant communication in today’s technological world. I gave Amber my old cell phone, which might have been a slight mistake on my part.  There was no phone service, but she could still connect to WiFi.  My second mistake was mentioning a free text and phone app.  If I could go back in time and smack myself, I would.  We fought the good fight against her sneaking the phone into her room at bedtime.  What we didn’t expect was her first middle school dance.  I don’t know how much I want to get into it on the big ole Internet, but my hints are boy+friends+texting=total chaos and devastation.  That died down and we went back to regular old girl drama.  Recently, that old phone has decided to not come back on, so, at this point, we will just deal with the withdrawals of not being able to text.  I better find a nice strong belt for her to bite down on.

It is hard being the oldest and being the first to do everything.  Amber was in dance, gymnastics and cheer first, which meant that her brother and sister were use to waiting around for her.  Then Amber got a taste of the waiting game and it has not been fun…for me.  Amber, now, waits for her brother while he is in TaeKwonDo and her sister while she is in dance.  Amber has dropped dance and gymnastics to focus on cheer and has learned that she simply can’t do everything due to time and money.  Oh the time and money lesson is a hard one for just about anyone to learn, much less a 10 year old. During the summer was worse, because there was no homework to keep her occupied during her wait times.  It is not easy, now, but, at least, I have a good answer to the question, “What can I do?”  I still have to “remind” her that she is not allowed to play basketball while Sam is in TKD.  I am hoping that the big guys that normally play basketball while the TKD class goes on will one day step on her and teach her a lesson.  There was much explanation of how her brother and sister have ALWAYS had to wait for her and she could show a little more patience while waiting for them, but that was met with a “how dare you ask me to consider anyone else” look and a huff finished with an arm folded.  Selfishness has just appeared and brought along back up.

I am happy to say that Amber likes school and does well.  However, the business of school escapes her.  She is a 5th grader, now, and that comes with a lot of responsibility, at least, in Amber’s mind.  She has always had to turn in lunch money, signed papers, etc, but, now, there is no teacher collecting folders and pulling it out for her.  Mom isn’t putting it into the folders and then in her bookbag.  Apparently, this is all too much for her.  And it seems this stuff falls onto me, still.  Hopefully, by college I won’t have to remind her to take her lunch money and not to buy extras.  And she will know what the extras are. I, recently, got a bill from the school for Amber’s lunch account.  It said she only had $5.45 left.  The problem with that is that I just sent in a $25 check (I have to stop for a minute and stress NEVER SEND IN CASH!  I know checks are from the dark ages, but if they are lost you can write a new one.  Once cash is lost, it is gone forever.  And kids will always lose cash.  I have heard many stories of Amber’s friends losing their lunch money, and we are not talking $2.  Many parents like to pay a month or year in advance instead of trying to come up with $2 everyday in the rush of the morning)on October 16.  There was no possible way she could have eaten that much in 4 days.  Okay, there is a way she could have eaten that much, but she swore she “NEVER”  gets extras.  So I put on my investigator hat, which luckily sits right next to my chauffeur hat, and went to work.  I talked to the head lunch lady, who had proof that not only did Amber NOT turn in her lunch money, but she does INDEED get extras.  It was all there on the computer screen.  I guess the rumor that the lunch ladies are stealing the kids lunch money and having a huge party with all the food that they have to cook and serve has been forever been proven wrong!  I climbed 3 flights of stairs, with a 30 lb toddler on my hip, to talk to Amber.  Oh the shock on her face when I informed her that 1. she didn’t turn in the check and 2 that she had been getting extras.  ”Oh you mean, the juice, gogurt, extra fries cost more,”  Amber asked.  All I could I do was sigh and do a quick once over of her folder.  Since Amber was rushing off to choir, I resigned to tearing apart her book bag and folders later this evening when she got home.  If I were to venture a guess, I will say that the check will either be found snuggled safely in her folder or scrunched down at the bottom of her bookbag.

I think back to when Amber was a baby and how I thought that was difficult.  Now, I fear the unknown of teenagerhood.  Toddler, pshaw!, I can handle a toddler.  Matter of fact, I do all day and it is a piece of cake.  Evie won’t potty trained, but that can be contained in a Pull Up.  There is no containing all that comes with tweens and then teenagers.  I am scared and pray that I make it through.  I figure by the time I have to deal with it with Evie, I will either have learned a lot or am just tired and have given up.  It seems to be the trend with parents, who have multiple children.

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It is Only the First Week

The kids have gone to school for a full week, now, and the drama has already begun.

Amber is now in middle school.  This brings all kinds of new and exciting adventures, one being the locker.  Oh the excitement there was at getting a locker.  Along with the school supplies there was a whole collection of things you can get to decorate your locker.  This is where I found Amber with her eyes wide open and her mouth drooling.  What would she get?  Where would she put it?  How would these items make her locker an expression of her very being?  I sighed.  Why should I spend good money on items to make her locker look better than our house?  No problem for Amber.  My idea of giving the kids an allowance to teach them about money had backfired on me, because it gave Amber power.  She had power to buy any trinkets her heart desired to make her locker the next Taj Mahal.  Good thing her power is limited to $7.  We left Target.  Me $70 lighter in my wallet from actually school supplies, you know the things needed to help her learn, and Amber with her eyes all aglow and big at the anticipation of getting her locker at Book Day.

Then the drama.  ODD got into the car, one day, and rambled on about the injustice that is being pushed on her and “how life is not fair”.  After I slowed her down to the point where I could understand every other word, I got the story.  It appears that while the kids can decorate the inside of their lockers, they were not allowed to decorate the outside, EXCEPT for the members of the dance team.  WHAT?!  How can this be?  What Elitist regime is this where the dance team get the great privilege of decorating the outside of their lockers, but no one else?   I was assured at the end of this mini in training tangent that I need not worry my little head, because a teacher has taken up the cause and some day the rest of the kids will be able to decorate the outside of their lockers and become equal with the dance team.

Just as my blood pressure had return to normal, I was hit with another “situation” that needed to be remedied right away and the only one to remedy it was ME.  It seems that one of Amber’s locker neighbors has gone full out in the renovation process.  It was a total tear down and rebuild.  There was wallpaper, shelves, chandeliers, rugs and the finest art that one can get miniaturized.  It appears that Amber had moved into the upscale neighborhood, but her house was the last small house from the ’50′s that was never torn down to make way for the next McMansion.   I was informed that I would have to spend my days with locker designers to come up with the perfect space that expressed exactly who Amber is.  I have failed as a mother, because all I got her was a shelf, which is GENIUS, and a small pink basket that was meant for her extra pens and pencils, but instead became the holder for her hairbrush and lip balm.  Will life ever go on?

Sam has brought his own drama, but nothing that exhausts me to the point of girl drama.  Matter of fact, I was proud how well Sam took being scolded by a classmate’s father after Sam had called his son a name.  I have hopes of a drama break with Sam until Evie takes up residence in girl drama land.  I hope in my old age I will gain perspective, but I think I will just lose my ability to care.

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I Have the Dreaded…TWEEN!

It has occurred to me in the past recent months that Amber is a tween.  I have heard that tween could be any age between 6 and 13, but I can’t imagine my 6 yr old as a tween.  Although, Sam does like Justin Bieber.  Not sure how that happened.  Amber, on the other hand, is speeding through tweendom into teenager.  I swear I can see it and I just want to grab her and hide.

Amber has always been opinionated, but at this point in her life everything is a debate.  Even more worse is that she THINKS she is right all the time, too.  UGH!  Many times I snap out of an argument I am having with Amber and think, “DAMN, I am arguing with a 9 year old.  What does she know about the world?  Or anything?”.  That is when I yell, “I am the MOM and you will do what I say.”  I don’t think I have to tell you how frustrating it is to have every word out of your mouth debated.  It makes me want to bang my head against a brick wall.  I think that might be actually more productive than any argument I have with Amber. At least I am not alone in the Great Debate.  Amber does this with her friends, her dad and even her coaches.  Somehow, her teacher has been able to escape this little trait.  Seeing as I am a little intimidated by Amber’s 4th grade teacher, I can only guess why she has not encountered this problem.

More proof that Amber is firmly cemented into Tweendom is her “love life”.  She is 9 yrs old, soon to be 10, so her love life is not that extensive, at least to us in the real world.  In her mind, there is great drama going on.  First, we have Ron Weasley.  No that is not some boy in her class.  It is the character from Harry Potter.  My lovely daughter has a thing for second fiddles.  Not!  That that is a bad thing.  We have, finally, gotten to a point where we don’t hear his name mentioned everyday.  Amber has branched out into talking about more real life crushes, like boys in her class.  This all started just recently and I have to admit I was surprised.  Amber didn’t really show any signs that she was crushing on these little boys.  Matter of fact, she rarely mentioned any boy in her class.  However, toward the end of the year I started hearing about this boy and that boy and who was dating whom.  First, I needed clarification on dating:

Me:  Whoa! Whoa!  What do YOU mean DATING?

Amber:  Like, you know?  DATING!

Me:  Are you telling me that these little boys are picking up these little girls and taking them somewhere?

Amber: YES!

Me:  You can’t be serious? *What the hell kind of Catholic school is?*

Later I would fine out that dating means the kids plan to meet up for lunch.  Not very hard to do considering they are all forced to be around each other for 8 hours a day.  That was a load off my mind when the voice of reason stepped in.

Then we had a little Days of our Lives drama happening when Amber admitted to liking a boy who had already professed his 4th grade love to another.  It seemed all cool until one day it became a big topic of discussion.  There were field reporters doing research, factcheckers trying to get confirmation, Amber supporters not making comments, interviews finally held where the parties agreed that there maybe liking going on, but nothing was being pursued.  Oh but the scars of tween love and lost had been forever sealed on Amber’s heart.  Should I even mentioned the date Amber was suppose to have with one boy, but he stood her up instead.  Fourth grade in Catholic school is hardcore.  All I remember of public school fourth grade was making it out of the bathroom alive to fight another day.

The drama continued between the girls but not over boys.  Here is where mothers of boys can get a little smug.  Sure you have to deal with a bloody nose, black eye, etc, but then it is over.  With girls it is the deep emotionally scarring that takes the rest of our lives and thousands upon thousands of dollars of therapy just for us to get out of bed and face another day.  Female humans are the only creatures that never throw a punch, but do the most lasting damage.  I have already logged many hours trying to convince Amber to just let it roll off her back, BUT “MOMTHEYSAIDIWASABRUNETTEWHENREALLYIAMABLONDE!”  They are right I don’t get it.  If some of this stuff was said to me today, I would probably laugh in the other person’s face.  However, when you are 9 yrs old and the consensus is that you are a brunette when all you want to be is a blonde your whole world has been shattered.

The least, but still annoying, proof of Tweendom is the radio battle.  I don’t have great music taste and will listen to the trashiest top 40 hit currently blowing iTunes record, but I still have some standards.  First, what the hell is this One Direction and why is it only one?  I swear if I hear that song one more time I am going to drive us all off in a ravine.  (Don’t worry, I don’t think we have any ravines in South LA.)  Don’t even get me started on the screeching that comes from the third row when I DARE attempt to change the station when one of these fine teeny bopping songs comes on.  You would think Amber’s heart was just pierced while pouring lemon juice into the wound.  When I go deaf, she is paying for my hearing dog.  Not sure how I am going to make it through the next 3 years much less the Teenhood.

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Leaving!

We joined a gym.  It only took twice joining the same gym in the span of 10 years for SoHubby to actually go to the gym.  Maybe we have, FINALLY, settled into a routine.  It only took 3 kids and 14 years.

There is always a little bit of guilt when leaving my kids.  Some say it is good for the kids to trust other people and explore other options.  They never talk about mom trusting other people and exploring other options.  I use to know all the age developments, now it is all jumbled.  It is hard to keep up with what is appropriate for age 9 then go down to age 6 and then further down to age 2.5.  You would think that I would have it down by now, but since all these kids came out different and with their own personalities it is hard to know if I am acting silly, if the kids are acting silly or if we are all just going through growing pains.

When Amber was a baby there wasn’t much trouble leaving her and doing my own thing.  That is not to say that I was able to do it often, but there wasn’t much guilt over it.  It helps that I was told that I needed the time away from her and she needed the time away from me.  On child number 3, I am rethinking those decisions and many times I wish I could go back and start again.  I am rethinking so much that I am teetering on whether to send Evie to school for the first time at the age of 5 into Kindergarten.  Almost unheard of in my little world.  The new question I grit my teeth through my smile to answer is, “Are you sending her to school next year?”  *sigh* That might have to be a post all of it’s own.

With Sam it feels like I never left him and I can see where that might have hindered him a bit.  Sam was a different breed altogether.  Where the girls are easy going and only dip a bit of a toe into the waters of battle, Sam does the cannon ball into those waters.  It is hard to have balance when one kid is pretty easily guided and another one fights you toe and nail on everything.  So we settled into our routine of coming home and just playing all day  AT HOME.  I don’t think it traumatized him to where he can’t function and it is hard to tell if some things he does is because I didn’t leave him much or just his bullheadedness.

Evie is only 2.5 years old and her personality is only starting to emerge.  She definitely has her opinions, but she seems to know when not to push.  Today she tried to push.  It was our second day at the gym, which means it was her second day at gym childcare.  Yesterday, she was fine.  I think she was in shocked and was all, HEY, there is Mickey.  Today, she was not having any of it.  She cried and I watched as my minutes of my one hour of childcare ticked away.  I stayed until she was fully into Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  I was never into the sneaking away while my kid was distracted.  The whole time I worked out I wonder what was going on.  Since I was not called over the PA system, which still brings memories of terror of being call to the principal’s office, I figured all was good.  After my 30 minutes (you don’t realize how little an hour is until you have to drop off, pick up and get settled before you can begin) of working out, I found Evie sitting in the same spot as when I left her.  At least she wasn’t cowering in the corner and lived the ordeal to tell the tale.

As I picked her up and even before we did our first drop off I wonder if I should really do this?  Should I find another way to get to the gym instead of dropping Evie off each morning?  No one can answer this for me and I am sure I will look back in a few years and discover the answer, but for now it is one more item added to my list of my mom guilt.

 

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Yes, I am a Cheer Mom.

Amber is a cheerleader for her school. SHE LOVES IT!  So much in fact that if you tell her it is not a sport she will argue with you until the death, at least, that is what she does with her gymnastic coach, who claims that cheerleading isn’t a sport.  I would have my usual retort of let me see you flip in the air, but sadly I think he might be able to do it or could have done it in the past.  Mainly, I have told Amber to stop bringing it up in gymnastics class to save us all the torture.

Setting aside the major debate of whether cheerleading is a sport or not (Psst…Amber tells me that her Cheer coach says that cheerleading is the most dangerous sport.  So stick that in your pipe and smoke it.), the girls had a competition this weekend in Biloxi.  And I know my kids were excited to go on an adventure.  Sure it is only an hour drive and we only stayed in a moderately priced hotel and there was no chance of swimming that weekend, but to a 9 and 6 yr old it was an adventure nonetheless.  Evie was just confused as to why we kept calling her Mississippi and why she couldn’t sleep sideways.

Amber loves to perform.  She loved it when she was 2 yrs old and in a school play.  She loved it at every dance recital since she was 3 yrs old.  And now she loves it in cheerleading.  I think this girl has performing in her blood and doesn’t blink twice if asked to speak in front of a large crowd.  I can safely say that comes from her Daddy, because Mom would love to stay in the background and be quietly thanked on stage during the Oscars.  Preferably, before God, but making the top 2 will still make me happy.

So without further ado may I present the SFX Jaguars:

I think they did a great job.

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NOLA Culture: High School

Here in New Orleans when someone asks you where did you go to school, you better reply with what high school you attended.  If you reply with a college, we will know you are an outsider.  I went to public school and that is something that I keep to myself.  This is a city of Catholic and private schools.  If you want to be included in certain circles you keep your public school education to yourself.

Being from New Orleans and going to public school, my dream was that my kids would go to private school.  And if the people I have been talking to are any indication, my kids’ dream will be that their kids go to the high school they went to.  Cycle continues.

Amber moved to a Catholic school at third grade. Before that she went to a private school without a religious affiliation.  It was an adjustment for both of us.  She was entering a school where most of the students had been together since they were 3 yrs old.  Now on our 2nd year and Sam joining the school we are in the groove.  Our  newness still comes through on occasion, but that should wear off in a year or 2.  As one mom reminded me, I have 7 years at this school.  I can’t be new forever, right?

What I didn’t expect was the high school talk to start so soon.  You see around 5th grade the kids start looking at high schools.  And from what I am hearing it sounds like the experience that most kids looking at colleges go through.  Amber started her talk of which high school she picked last year in third grade.  As far as I can tell, she had some catching up to do with the other girls.  It scares me.  All the what ifs come flooding in and I am left in a corner sweating clutching brochures to high schools.

Amber has expressed her preference and it seems to be the preference of the majority of girls and moms at the school. It is the “IT” school.  So the talk begins, “Hey Amber, if you want to go to that high school, you better make sure you study.”  ”AMBER!  They don’t accept girls who act like that to that high school.”  I have found the new version of the Santa threat.  Of course, all this perks Amber’s ears for a nanosecond and then she goes back to avoiding that 800 page Harry Potter book she just had to read for her AR test that is coming up in 3 days.

I don’t need this stress.  Public school was simple.  Oh you live there?  You go here.  Sure there were knife fights in the playground and you learned to hold your bladder all day for fear of what might befall you in the bathroom, but, at least, you didn’t have to worry about getting into the perfect high school.  You went to the school you were told and you fell into line like everyone else. There was no worrying about the perfect high school leading you to the perfect Louisiana University (subtle, eh) and all of that leading you to the perfect job where you will lead the perfect life and live happily every after.  One false move and the delicate house of cards based on the right school since birth will come tumbling down and their lives will be doomed forever.  See the pressure I am under.  I just started to relax after my world wind tour of every Catholic elementary school on both sides of the river and now I am back to panic mode.  The happiness of my kids’ lies in my hands.  One false move and they will be living in my house forever and I will never have my dream of a kid home where I get to do what I want and the house stays clean.  Parenting in NOLA is hard, y’all.

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Your Catholic History Moment

The kids go to a Catholic school, so dressing up in their Halloween costumes at school is not going to happen.  In the place of costumes the kids get to dress up as their favorite Saint on November 1, All Saints Day.  Not quite the same thing and it doesn’t get the same amount of excitement, especially when you have to do a report to go along with your “costume”.  But we are here to learn, right?

I don’t have a favorite Saint.  I blame my parents.  The short of the story is that my mom got my religion choice in the divorce.  From the little I learn, I could fake it by saying Joan of Arc.  It is not quite as transparent as claiming Mary as your favorite Saint.  No offense to those who have her as a favorite Saint, but she is kind of a go to Saint, especially for us with minimal Catholic education.  Amber choose Mary, last year, because…wait…for it…she got to bring a baby doll to school.  A baby doll that she forgot to bring.  A baby doll I had to rush to Target to buy along with swaddling clothes.  Do you know how hard it is to find swaddling clothes in this day and age?  Of course, I had to get her the baby, because, “…HOW WILL ANYONE KNOW WHO I AM?!”

This year we got lucky and Amber’s teacher picked her Saint for her.  Her Saint is Barbara.  It seems Barbara had quite a hard life at the hand of her father.  She kept her faith despite her abusive father and was rewarded with Sainthood.  Plus, as an added bonus, God showed her father the business end of a lightening bolt.  Take that buttmonkey!  I am a little confused, because the information sheet given by the teacher mentioned that Saint Barbara is/was the patron Saint of firefighters, but not really, anymore, because we have fire extinguishers.  Then while I was trying to find out dates for when Saint Barbara lived, I came across this.  It appears that Saint Barbara’s true lesson is :

The life of St. Barbara is a vivid reminder that there can be much anger in our world and in our lives. Being in touch with God’s presence in a very special way can do much toward relieving ourselves of our tendency to allow anger to control us. 

Hmmm….could this be a message?  Maybe, but we will put that aside for the moment.  See, not letting all that anger control me. I find all this Saint business fascinating, which means I am learning right along with the kids. I didn’t finish my Catholic education.  There are many things we can learn from the Saints.

Now, if I can find the patron Saint for stubborn children to help guide me through my experience of parenting Sam.  He is not required to dress as a Saint.  I am not sure how many kids in his class will, but I am sure he won’t care if he was the only one to show up in just his school uniform.  Or he could flip out and yell at me as he gets in the car after school, that “he was the only one that wasn’t dressed as a Saint and it is all my fault!”  I thought I had the perfect solution to this problem.  Sam has an Anakin Skywalker costume that I got on sale at Target after Halloween, last year.  All it really is a brown sack like garment that can be cinched at the waist.  Throw in a large wooden rosary and you have yourself a monk.  I am sure there is a monk Saint out there, somewhere.  Of course, this was a no go for Sam.  He is adamant that he wants to wear his Ironman costume to school.  I don’t think I will have much success in finding a Saint that could incorporate an Ironman costume.  I wonder if he still wore a large wooden rosary, if anyone would notice?  I think I will have better success becoming the patron Saint of stubborn children.  At least, I would have earned it.

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This is Going to Hurt me More than it is Going to Hurt You

I don’t care what anyone says parenting toddlers is a cake walk compared to pre-preteen. If you couldn’t guess from that statement I am having trouble with the oldest of our brood.  When I get into these predicaments with Amber, I try to think back to when I was her age.  That doesn’t really help.  While I had angst in my childhood, you can’t compare the two.

Amber has a lot on her plate.  Not only is she continuing with dance and gymnastics, but we have added cheerleading.  And with her brother coming to an age where he can join in on some extra activities, we are running Monday through Thursday.  The majority of that is Amber’s stuff, which sucks for the younger 2.  To soften the blow I ply them with ice cream on a regular basis, so I doubt there will be any real animosity between them.  I was worried about adding cheerleading to the mix.  This is not the run of the mill rah-rah at football games.  I don’t think the school even has a football team.  We are talking competition.  And before you think we will be at Spirit camp or backstabbing at national championships, this is Catholic school competitions.  Which really means the underlying thought is kick their ass, but on the forefront it is everyone is doing a good job and we all love each other.  Okay, I am pulling that out of my ass, because we haven’t been to a competition, yet, so I am not sure what the mood will be.

Cheerleading is 2 days a week and 2 hours a day.  Not too bad, except when you add on dance, gymnastics and 4th grade.  As Amber’s teacher told us during a parent’s meeting at the beginning of the year, this is a transition year for the kids.  They are entering the world of big kids, but haven’t fully left the world of little school kids.  They are dipping their toes into the sea of hormones, but yet still play tag in the school yard.  So basically you have an innocent tag game that at any moment can become carnage. Yay!

I was pleasantly surprised when we had our first couple of meetings for cheerleading.  Everyone was nice and accommodating.  All the girls, who tried out, were accepted.  There was no drama, like in the movies.  There was no crazy moms scoping out who they wanted to ice out of the picture.  Nope, it was new moms and current moms helping each other out.  Then school started and so did the homework.  Here is where the drama lies.  There have been girls missing practices.  First, I never noticed, then came the email.  The email that reminded us that it was important for all the girls to attend all the practices.  Then there was the email from a mother that reminded us that it hurt the girls, who showed up for practice, when they can’t practice the full routine, because they need all the girls.  I read all the emails and listened to the whispers of homework remediation.  I asked Amber about homework remediation and was assured that she had only missed 3 homework assignments.  I imparted on Amber how important it was to do her homework. Then there was the announcement at practice that it seemed many girls were missing practice because of homework remediation (detention) and it was important for the girls to do their homework so they could make practice.  As I was wiping my brow from relief that we were not included in that announcement, Amber approached me and told me that she had homework detention.  Everything stopped!  Huh?  Wha?  Are you freaking kidding me?  What the hell happened?

Let me stop here for a moment and explain what happens when I get the shock that my kids are not the delightful little angels I expected them to be.  My mind races.  I ask myself what am I suppose to do in this situation, especially in public with other parents watching me.  And basically, I throw everything, but the kitchen sink at my kids.  NO TV! NO PLAYDATES! NO DINNER! NO HAPPINESS…EVER! Which in hindsight always seems a bit much.  I am just at a loss as to what to do.  Today was no different and especially hard.

At each practice the coach hands out the team’s mascot, a stuffed Jaguar dressed in the team’s uniform, to the member who has improved the most.  That member gets to hold on to the mascot all week.  Amber had been looking forward to the day that she got to bring home the mascot.  And today was that day.  As I sat by the stage expecting him to throw the mascot to anyone, but Amber, I was so happy to see that she had gotten it.  It was exciting and thrilling, because along with that little stuffed jaguar was the mention that Amber had improved as a flyer (The girl they throw in the air.  The plight of the smallest on the squad).  This must have meant that she was getting confident at being flung into the air.  So when she approached me and told me she got homework remediation, I knew what had to be done.  I told her that she couldn’t bring the mascot home and would have to turn it over to the moderator.  *sigh*  This parenting gig is hard, yo!  I really didn’t want to do it, but as I searched my brain I just knew it was not fair for her to get the mascot when she would be missing 2 practices next week thus making the whole squad suffer.  So she cried as she handed over the mascot.  The most heartbreaking is that it will be a long time before she will come up with another chance to take the mascot home, because we have to count this week as the week she was chosen.  Dem the breaks.

On the way home, I second guessed myself and knew that there would be someone somewhere that would tell me I was completely wrong, but I knew it had to be done.  When disciplining Amber she needs a jolt.  She needs something that signals to her that this is serious and makes her remember.  Considering I can ask her to bring down her clothes only to find her going through her closet to find a jacket and has completely forgotten about bringing down the laundry, I need to make a big impact. There are other punishments that have gone along with this incident, but I think not being able to bring home the mascot is one she will definitely remember.  Each week she talked about getting to bring home the mascot one week.  Frankly, I never knew handing out punishments would be tough on me.  It is just hard to see her disappointed.  However, I know in the long run she will learn from it.

Of course, I have learned from this as well.  I have learned that I must be on top of Amber.  I must read every assignment, sign papers that maybe don’t necessarily need signing (2 of her missed homework assignments were because I didn’t sign certain papers, even though I know I signed them but can’t prove it, now), go over her assignment book several times and require her to bring home every book so she can’t say that she forgot.  I have, also, learned that I can’t let my guard down.  I thought Amber had this homework thing down.  Apparently, just as much as 4th grade homework sucks for her, it sucks for me, too.  Nights at the Old Homestead are going to be more chaotic than before and I don’t know if my sanity can take it.  This means pushing bedtime to 8pm, which means mornings are going to be a beast.  And once again, I am smacked in the face with the realization that once you get over one parenting hurdle there is another one waiting for you just around the corner to trip, point and laugh at you while you struggle to regain your footing.  And to think I get to do this 2 more times.  I will either collapse from exhaustion or cross the finish line a champion.  I am merely praying to make it out alive.

 

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Teacher vs Mom

I have nothing against teachers.  Matter of fact, I am in awe of them.  I doubt I would volunteer to spend days and days with other people’s precious little snowflakes.  If you paid me, I might consider it, but will probably pass.  However, there are occasions where I disagree with one of the kids’ teachers.  It is not really a big deal and I just let it go.  That is hard to do when your children think you have the mental capabilities of a slug and their teachers know EVERYTHING!

First, let’s take Sam’s teacher.  She has taken to calling him her delicate little China doll.  Why?  Because he is a ninny baby.  You may find that harsh, but COME ON!  This kid is 5 years old and his go to reaction when things don’t go his way is a high pitch scream that makes any adult within a 5 mile radius jump out of their skin.  Your immediate reaction is, “Who cut off your arm and where did they put it?!”  When in reality one of his sister just took one of his toys away from him or changed the channel.  I didn’t correct the teacher, because why make a fuss?  No big deal, I can fix this at home.  We have been working on this, anyway.  I am constantly telling Sam, over his screams, to use his words and I can’t hear screaming.  You would think me swerving off a road would have gotten his attention, but no.  The boy stays with what gets a reaction.  I, also, have been telling him that he is a big strong boy.  He is kind of enjoying the delicate, ladies all over him that he is currently getting at school.  Can’t really blame him.  What man/boy wouldn’t?

Amber’s teacher has given the STINKY talk.  Basically, she has explained that the kdis have to wear deodorant.  Most kids would probably take this talk and maybe mention it to their parents or not mention it at all.  My daughter..MY daughter gives me direct orders to go promptly to the store and get her some deodorant.  I tell her that she doesn’t stink, YET, and when she does I will get her deodorant.  She did smell her armpit to make sure that I was telling the truth.  I assured her that I am on STINK patrol and not to worry.  Oh NO!  That is not good enough.  She had to go in and tell her teacher how her mother is not listening to the teacher and basically not following directions.  *sigh*  My daughter has not mastered the art of taking in information and using it when it pertains to her.  My explaining that the longer she waits to start these things the much better life will be.  I mean, COME ON, this girl can’t remember to get her leotard for gymnastics when I tell her straight to her face 10 seconds before she walked into her room where she forgot what she was in there for, shrugged and then walked right back out.  You think she is going to remember deodorant every morning.  NO!  It will be just one more thing for me to remember and I am getting too old to remember everything.  BUT she can remember word for word what her teacher says that goes against her mother.

I think it is fine that the teacher gave this speech, because I am sure some of the kids will start to stink and some parents may or may not notice.  Who wants to spend all day with stinky people?  Not me.  My problem is more with my child arguing with me, because I am just MOM and can’t possibly know anything.  It is the normal evolution of the child/mother relationship.  You go from knowing everything to knowing nothing in a short time.  I am sure the teachers have the same problem.  If not, then just let me live in my bubble of denial. So I will continue to remind my daughter that I will keep on top of her smell and make sure she is not the stinky kid in class. In the meantime, I will push through with the hopes of grandchildren, who think I am just about the best thing since cotton candy and unicorns.

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The Day I Lost it at the Office Max (or Teachers Really Do Hate Parents)

I have heard of these fictitious people who love to shop for school supplies.  All I see are moms with one eye on the supply list another on the kids, who are running around like mad people, and, yet, another scouring the shelf for the must have school supply.  She won’t find it, even though she has exhausted every store in the city.  She will come to you on the first day of school, wringing her hands and a small tear in her eye, and tell you that she did everything she could to find this item.  You will tell her that it is no big deal.  You can either substitute with this easy to find at any store item or you can go to this store that is only opened from 8am-9am on the third Monday of the 4th month of the 5th odd year during a lunar eclipse.    Today, against my gut feeling, I decided to become THAT mom.

Running errands with 3 kids is never fun.  It appears that if we are home for the day the kids complain.  If we leave to get some things done, the kids complain.  If their super cool and loving mom takes them to the coolest waterpark that New Orleans has ever seen they will complain.  Apparently, my kids are spoiled brats.  Well, after today they will learn what it is like to live in the olden days when parents didn’t care about their kids’ feelings.  Also known as the 80′s.  Momma is going to have a full week of watching whatever she wants,  cleaning without having to maneuver around small people, and eating when she wants.  And yes, that is a little bit of chocolate cupcake on the corner of her mouth. And no, you can’t have any!  How can I do this you ask?  The kids are punished.  Don’t worry, they will get an hour in the yard and their food will be slide through their doors at the appropriate times of day.

First let’s tackle these school supply lists.  I have had my share of tough school supplies in my day.  You can read about my first one here. Add the 3 kids and I want to stick hot pokers with the E.Coli virus on them in my eyes.  I understand that teachers have an important job, teaching our children, but does it really take 5 boxes of crayons and WASHABLE markers, 6 jumbo glue sticks, a box that measures 8 5/8 x 5 3/4 x 2 1/3 and a wire basket that measures 16 x 12 x 5 to teach the kids?  I hear in some countries it only takes a $1 a day to school a child.  Where can I get on that plan? Or are these things put on the list payback for putting up with our little demon spawns for the school year?  Teachers, be honest with me.  Just tell me that you put this weird crap on there so you can secretly watch us lose our shit in the middle of Office Max as our kids tear down the fire hoses.

Don’t think I forgot about the manufacturers of school supplies and the stores that sell them.  The teacher asks for 20 sharpened pencils, but the manufacturers make only 18 or 24 pencils.  Of course, they don’t make them all sharpened and you pay a premium for that little point on the end.  Also, can you explain to me why my 5 year old needs 60 pencils in Kindergarten?  Are you planning for them to reenact a fight scene from Game of Thrones using the pencils as small swords?  If so, I may not mind buying all the pencils, because that would be cool.  Otherwise, I am sure I will be handed 2.5 packs of pencils at the end of the school year.  Don’t scoff it has happened.  Or what about these oh so special colored notebooks that you demand request.  When I read that Amber needed a red single subject notebook and a blue 3 subject notebook I thought, “That ain’t no big deal. At least she didn’t ask for fuchsia.”  Guess what I found?  Freaking fuchsia!!  There was fuchsia everywhere, but I had to dig through a mound of notebooks to find the only red single notebook that Office Max had and even then I had to beat another mother off with my diaper bag to get it.  And the blue 3 subject notebook?  Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the baby is now working at the Office Max.  I hope to see her once she is promoted out of the stock room.  Last, but not least, please explain to me why Office Max has every fancy composition book under the sun, but no black marble composition book in all the land?  Who doesn’t have a friggin BLACK MARBLE COMPOSITION BOOK?  And why does my son need 2 of them?  He can barely write his name, I hope you are not expecting him to journal about his day.  If you are here is a sample, “Dear Diary, I am hungry.  The End.”  That is as good as it will get.

So excuse me if I lost it a bit while trying to talk to the manager about their weird sale on Crayola products when it was clearly marked on the shelves “Washable Markers” and my children decided to see if the baby can survive an attack from the exit door.  Again, I am sorry, I was DONE!  I had been to 3 stores (none of which are near each other), endured the constant stream of “I’m hungry. I have to pee.”, and the questionable lunch from Wendy’s only to discover that I still  have some shopping to do.  If I have an extra big smile on my face for the first day of school, know that I know that you think you got me, but the laugh is on you.  You will be spending 8 hours a day with my demon spawn.  Good luck with that.

 

 

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