Other People's Children

Fun Night 2011.

I stood next to a large obstacle course inflatable in the West Elementary School gym for 1 1/2 hours tonight.   My job was to supervise an endless line of children and make sure they climbed up the inflatable one at a time.

To be honest with you, I didn't start out being too happy about it, mainly because my two crabby butt children decided at the last minute that they didn't even want to go.  You may be asking why I didn't force them to go, and I might have pushed harder had we not been out almost all day shopping and running errands.  They were tired and crabby and I didn't feel much like buying $8 wristbands for two kids that were going to give me an attitude. I guess I lack conviction, but tonight I couldn't care less.

I did, however, feel obligated to show up and help since I said I would.  Oh sure, no biggie, probably 20 other people would have stepped in, but I kind of wanted to get out of the house for awhile anyway.  So, I went...and guess what?  I totally had a great time.

I love kids that talk (both of mine have selective mutism) and these kids had plenty to ask or tell me.

"Are you Mrs. Pryor?"  Yes I am, dear heart, and I love how you're so stinkin' sweet and polite.  (Being called "Mrs. Pryor" makes me giggle, I don't know why).

"You're Jordan's mom!  Jordan is in my class.  Mrs. Gordon is our teacher."  Oh I know, right?

"Did you know that my cousin and I go to the same school?"  No.  No I didn't.  I don't know you, or your cousin, but I think that's super great, sweetness.

"Will you hold my punch card/head band/plastic ring while I go down?"  Um, okay.  Sure, hon. 

"Look at the necklace/sticker/dinosaur/tatoo what I won in the prize room!"  Cool! That is SO totally awesome!

So... what are my conclusions about "Other People's Children?"

• They're sweet. 
• They're respectful.
• They listen to adults (only one kid went totally rogue, and the parents quickly swooped in to stop it)
• They're helpful to one another.
• They're a fun way to spend an hour and a half.

Mrs. Pryor  is really glad she went.

Conversations with God

I left the office this afternoon and was driving to a home visit in Northeast Wichita. 

Two of my favorite things are driving and listening to music.  Usually I'm rocking the Pearl Jam, Pink, Katy Perry or a Glee CD, but for some reason I didn't even turn the music on.  It was just starting to rain and I just drove along silently, listening to the rain hit the windshield and the rhythmatic thump of the windshield wipers.  There was also a great deal of road construction as I headed toward the area of 21st and Broadway, so it was taking twice as long to get to my client's home.
I don't let it get that quiet very often.  Like I said, usually there are some awesome tunes or else I have two kids in the back who are either singing, arguing, or trying to talk to me at the same time. 

As I sat there in traffic, alone with my thoughts, someone that I don't have a good relationship with suddenly popped into my head and it didn't take long for some negative thoughts about this person to set in.  I found myself feeling irritable, negative, self-righteous and even a little sad about my interactions with this person. However, as I remained in silence (like I rarely do) I began having thoughts that countered ever negative thought I came up with.  I think God was trying to tell me something.  The conversation basically went like this:

Me:  It's so unfair!  Why must I put up with this?
God: You know why.
Me:  I don't understand why I have to even be around this person.
God:  I want you to think of 1000 nice things that you could do to show love to this person.  You don't know the whole story.
Me: Do I really have to do this?
God:  Yes.
Me:  But it's really not fair.
God:  I didn't say it was fair.  Or easy.  Not only are you going to do nice things for this person, you're going to like it.
Me:  I have to do it AND like it?!?!
God: You got it.
Me:  What if I just--
God: No.
Me: But what about--
God:  No.
Me:  They won't appreciate it or care.
God: Do it anyway.  Are we done here?
Me:  Okay.
God:  Good.  End of discussion.

That was pretty much it, and then I was finally at the home visit.  It's a slightly rough neighborhood, but I've been there countless times, and I felt like someone had my back.  I got out of the car and got on with it.

My point? I listened and I started to adjust my attitude and thought process.  ***sigh***  Not that I had a choice.

Arguing with God is pretty pointless.

The "S" Word

I have an 8-year-old daughter who I refer to affectionately  as "Blonde Ambition."

That girl is always thinking.  She always has a plan, or an idea, and she's always two steps ahead of me.  Tell her it can't be done? She'll totally figure it out.  Tell her you'll get to it in an hour?  She'll make it work on her own.  Doubt her fashion sensibilities but reluctantly let her forge ahead? Nine times out of ten, her clothing combinations will look great.  Sleep in until 9am?  No worries.  She's up, dressed, made her own breakfast, selected and started a DVD, fed the dog and let the cat out before I've even had my first Diet Coke.

Basically, she's a really good kid and I'm proud of how independent she is...but I don't like her use of the "S" Word, nor do I appreciate the "1980's Valley Girl" tone by which she dare speaketh the "S" word in my presence.

No, it's not what you're thinking, and be glad about that that, but her particular "S" word offends me none the less.  The "S" word I'm referring to is the word "SERIOUSLY."

• Jordan, I need you to get changed and ready for ballet class.  (SERIOUSLY, MOM? I'm kind of busy playing with Pet Shop Toys).  Oh, yes.  Quite serious.

• Hey, Sissy!  It's time for you to shut off the computer and get your math paper done?  (SERIOUSLY, MOM?  I'm right in the middle of something!)  Yes, serious as a heart attack, princess.

• Jordan, your CD is too loud!  Please turn it down. (SERIOUSLY, MOM? But I love Taylor Swift!)  I like her too, just not at that volume.

• Jordan, it's not nice to treat your brother that way!" (You SERIOUSLY expect me to apologize after he's been antagonizing me all day?!  NOT FAIR!")

Basically, I've grown to dislike this word immensely, and I tell her so.  It's not even as much about the word as it is about the tone of voice.  I often remind her that I'm her mother, not one of her little cohorts, and I expect to be spoken to respectfully. No eye rolling, no sighing, no sass, no United Nations negotiating tactics,  just compliance.

"Well, DUH!" she responded one day, complete with eye rolling and disrespect.

Well, at that moment, I found a word I disliked MORE than "seriously," and guess who got grounded the next day?

(Well, DUH!)

(Disclaimer:  You need not email or message me with comments about how the sassy apple doesn't fall too far from the sassy tree.  This I already know.)

Mother of the Year

I'm never gonna win the "Mother of the Year" award.

Consider this: I don't think anything labeled "certified organic" has ever passed my children's lips. * Occasionally we have Cinnamon Toast Crunch for dinner. *  Sometimes I lose my cool, and when I tell my children I'm getting an "energy drain," they know they've pushed me to the limit. * They know more about I-Carly, Big Time Rush, Miranda Cosgrove and Victoria Justice than I would prefer that they know. *  I refuse to let my kids jump on the neighbor's lawn mattresses, and if the kids (or the neighbors) think I'm a meanie goat, so be it. 

That's fine.  I refuse to be too hard on myself.

It's not that I don't have standards.   Oh, I have standards, but "standards" and "perfection" are two entirely different entities.  If you want advice, you can buy parenting books or read magazine articles.  You can listen to family members or complete strangers on everything from potty training to how to get into an Ivy League university.   There is no shortage of advice and opinions out there. 

***WARNING:  This post contains some sarcastic materials that may not be suitable for all readers.***You should pay SPECIAL attention to the childless, as well as to those who have not turned out a quality product (read: adult child) because they typically know more than anyone on how you should be raising your children. ****

Okay, that was uncalled for.  True, but uncalled for. :) 

Basically, I parent from the hip and that works for me.  I'm not looking for perfection, or a mother of the year award.  I listen to my heart and my intuition, and I act accordingly.  I will continue to decide what my priorities are.  I will have victories and I will fall short, but I'll do my best.

I love my children. I have high expectations for my children.  I want them to take responsibility for their own actions, and to understand how their actions and choices affect them and the people around them.  I want them to be kind and compassionate human beings.  I basically want the world.  We all do.

As mothers, we all do the best that we can, and I think that's good enough.  At least, it's good enough for me.
.

Goodwill Hunting

It was just kind of one of those days.  (You can substitute your own list, if you need to).

Lack of sleep. *  Too many phone calls. *  My son had a bad day at school and I talked to his teacher for a long time. *  One of my clients cried when she learned that her guardian, a trusted friend, had been stealing money from her for at least four years.  I found myself crying along with her and her family members in her livingroom.  We were all sobbing. *  There was just kind of a gray cloud hanging over things.

Unable to process anymore, I finally shut things down at the office and decided to head home.  As I headed north on Oliver, I impulsively decided to pull into the parking lot of Goodwill the clouds started to part.  If you know my affinity for Goodwill on a regular day, you know that no one had to twist my arm.

I went inside, and as always, felt my stress level start to subside immediately.  I started to relax.  Some people step into Goodwill and see junk.  All I see are possibilities.

First I saw this gorgeous, lush contemporary floral print in a think black metal frame in a color scheme that I had been recently coveting.  It was new with tags and appeared to be an overstock from Target. $14.99.  Score!

Next I found some large (like 11x16) floral and art books at $1.99 each.  Very aesthetically beautiful and appealing.  The score so far?  Peace and tranquility: 2.  Stress: 0

Finally, I found a brand new Sunbeam stand mixer in it's original, unopened box.  It was probably somebody's duplicate wedding gift that they didn't get returned.  $ 9.99.  I got it home and it's indeed unused and in perfect condition. It was just in time for my daughter to ask,"Can we PUH-LEASE make cupcakes or some chocolate chip cookies?  (Sure. May I please put my purse and keys down and rest for a few minutes first, sweetness?)

My point?  After an hour at Goodwill, I came home feeling refreshed and de-stressed.  I realize this isn't everyone's idea of stress relief, but each to their own, right?  There's really no accounting for taste. :)

So, we ordered a pizza, and we're going to relax for the rest of the evening.  Maybe we'll make some cookies and my daughter will be happy.  Maybe I'll watch the movie "Goodwill Hunting" so I can sob my eyes out like I do every time Robin Williams' character has the scene with Matt Damon where he keeps saying over and over, "It's not your fault, son."

On second thought, I've had enough tears for today.  Maybe I'll watch something like Spongebob Squarepants and try not to take life so darn seriously.