If you're a follower of my blog, I'm sure you've noticed that there hasn't been much activity for the past few months. Well, there's a good reason for that. While I've been busy with the boys and birthday parties and gearing up for summer, I've also been busy getting ready for some exciting times at Mommy's Always Write!
I started Mommy's Always Write about two years ago, mostly as a way to share my thoughts and experiences of motherhood with my family, friends and anyone who would listen. But over the past year, it has started to become much more. I have had several wonderful opportunities to write for national and international parenting websites, and I have discovered how much I really like to blog. It's actually a little bit addicting!
So I have decided it's time to take Mommy's Always Write to the next level. I've been spending my recent "blogging time" creating a facebook page (www.facebook.com/MommysAlwaysWrite), starting a
Twitter account (@TweetsFromMommy) and working on some exciting new guest blogs that you'll be
seeing and hearing about in the coming months. Plus, you can expect much more frequent posts on my blog itself.
And speaking of the blog itself, I am also excited to announce that Mommy's Always Write now has its own unique domain name. You can now find my blogs at www.MommysAlwaysWrite.com (but don't worry - you can still get there using the link you have been using for the past two years as well).
I'd like to say a huge THANK YOU to everyone who reads my posts, whether you have been with me since my first post, or whether this is your first time visiting my blog. It's always great to hear about people who read my blog, whether I personally know you or not! I've been amazed to learn about people that follow Mommy's Always Write who I never would have expected. That's part of what I love about blogging!
Oh, and you should also know that I have a little bit of an indulgent side to me too... I absolutely love reading comments and getting feedback about my blog. Positive comments are awesome, but I also welcome criticism or suggestions on how I can improve. My day is made every time someone comments on a post or "likes" my new facebook page or follows me on Twitter. Seriously. I'm easily amused.
I am very excited about this next chapter of Mommy's Always Write, and I hope you'll join me on my journey. So with all that being said, I invite you to read, "like," follow, comment and enjoy!
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
In Twenty Years
Ok. If you're reading this and you have young kids of your own, I want you to do something. Picture them in about 20 years or so. If they could be doing anything you want, what would it be? Quick, pick the first thing that comes to mind.
Here's my answer to this question. In my perfect future for my kids, Alec ends up playing piano on Broadway and Chase ends up scoring touchdowns for the Pittsburgh Steelers. (I guess it could be the other way around, but with Alec's two left feet I'm pretty sure that when it comes to sports he takes after Chad, who was traumatized for life during a t-ball game when he was playing first base, the other team hit the ball and Chad ran the bases. Plus, based on Alec's two months of piano lessons resulting in the ability to play Funny Little Man, Going Up Bounce Bounce AND Hot Cross Buns at the age of four, I feel much more confident in his musical talents.)
This future for my kids would be great... I could get free (front row) tickets to Broadway shows AND have free (awesome) seats at every Steelers game. My kids would both be considered super successful, and I would get some pretty good perks as well. Of course in my fantasy dream, Alec would land his first audition and Chase would never get hurt on the field.
But then I got to thinking... that's what I would want for my kids. That doesn't mean that that's what they will want for themselves. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that all I really want for my kids is for them to be happy. That's all I really want for them now, 20 years from now, 50 years from now, etc...
Honestly, I really don't care what they end up doing. They could be teachers, carpenters, lawyers, fishermen, car salesmen, really anything. Heck, they could be ballerinas or bank robbers for all I care, as long as it makes them happy! (Ok, maybe the bank robber part wouldn't really be part of my dream.) But I seriously don't care what they end up doing, as long as it makes them happy.
I don't know about other parents, but I know I spend a lot of time trying to make my kids happy. I play game after game of "Go Fish;" I laugh at jokes that make no sense; I exhaust myself by running lap after lap around the house chasing (or being chased by) my boys; I spend more time than I care to admit stuffed in closets, crammed under beds and crouching in bathtubs in riveting games of hide-and-seek.
Maybe I'm being selfish. Afterall, seeing them unhappy causes me to feel their pain. I can't stand seeing my children hurt or sick; I hate the feeling of having to take away a toy, even though I know I'm teaching them a lesson; I cry inside every time they're disappointed. And as their mother, all I want to do is make things better. I just want them to be happy.
So after all this thinking, I've changed my dream for them. In my revised answer to my original question, Alec is still on Broadway and Chase is still at Heinz Field, but they are both HAPPY with what they're doing.
This future for my kids would be great... I could get free (front row) tickets to Broadway shows AND have free (awesome) seats at every Steelers game. My kids would both be considered super successful, and I would get some pretty good perks as well. Of course in my fantasy dream, Alec would land his first audition and Chase would never get hurt on the field.
But then I got to thinking... that's what I would want for my kids. That doesn't mean that that's what they will want for themselves. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that all I really want for my kids is for them to be happy. That's all I really want for them now, 20 years from now, 50 years from now, etc...
Honestly, I really don't care what they end up doing. They could be teachers, carpenters, lawyers, fishermen, car salesmen, really anything. Heck, they could be ballerinas or bank robbers for all I care, as long as it makes them happy! (Ok, maybe the bank robber part wouldn't really be part of my dream.) But I seriously don't care what they end up doing, as long as it makes them happy.
I don't know about other parents, but I know I spend a lot of time trying to make my kids happy. I play game after game of "Go Fish;" I laugh at jokes that make no sense; I exhaust myself by running lap after lap around the house chasing (or being chased by) my boys; I spend more time than I care to admit stuffed in closets, crammed under beds and crouching in bathtubs in riveting games of hide-and-seek.
I don't do all this because of the thrill of not knowing if another person has a whale card in their hands or because I have a secret love of hiding in dark, stuffy places. I do this because it makes my kids happy. And if my boys are happy, that makes me happy.
So after all this thinking, I've changed my dream for them. In my revised answer to my original question, Alec is still on Broadway and Chase is still at Heinz Field, but they are both HAPPY with what they're doing.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
The Day I Became a Clueless Mother
Four years ago today, I was 37 weeks pregnant with my first child. For two weeks straight I had been experiencing excruciating back pain that brought me to tears each day, limited how much I could sleep and forced me to spend almost every hour of the day bent over on my hands and knees on a couch because that was the only position that would even slightly reduce the pain. After two trips to the hospital, numerous blood and urine tests and eight tries to get an IV into me, the doctor still had no explanation for the pain. He gave me a prescription of Vicodin that he assured me would not harm the baby, but after taking it for three days with no relief I stopped because I saw no reason to put ineffective drugs into my body where my unborn child was living. My mom had been staying with us for about a week to help out while Chad was at work.
Four years ago today, my mom drove me to my doctor's office where Chad met me for my routine 37-week check-up. The doctor we were seeing that day was one that we had seen only once or twice before, and he was known for his sense of humor. Upon examination, he informed me that I was 6 cm dilated. Ok, haha, I thought, not really in a joking mood and just wanting to get back to the (dis)comfort of my hands, knees and couch at home. But when he looked at me seriously and asked if I was sure I wasn't having contractions, I knew he was not joking. He called the doctor from the practice who was on call at the hospital, and a few minutes later Chad and I were on our way home to get our suitcase and head for the hospital.
Four years ago today, Chad and I made our way up to the labor and delivery ward of the hospital, still trying to grasp the concept that we were about to have a baby. I assumed my hands-and-knees position in the hospital bed and waited for the doctor to come in. I'm pretty sure when she walked into the room she thought she had mistakenly walked in on a proctology patient, but after a brief explanation she realized the situation. It had only been about two hours since I had my check-up, and I was now 7 cm dilated, still not having any contractions. I knew right from the start of the pregnancy that I didn't want to be a hero if I didn't have to be, and I knew I wanted an epidural if there was time for one. Fortunately there was, though I think just barely. I won't go into many details of the delivery itself, but I will say that it was cake compared to the back pain that I had been having. I would go through that labor and delivery ten times before going through even one hour of the back pain I had. Fortunately as soon as the epidural kicked in the back pain disappeared completely and I felt amazing! After about five hours of easy labor and 30 minutes of pushing, our little boy arrived.
Four years ago today, my mom drove me to my doctor's office where Chad met me for my routine 37-week check-up. The doctor we were seeing that day was one that we had seen only once or twice before, and he was known for his sense of humor. Upon examination, he informed me that I was 6 cm dilated. Ok, haha, I thought, not really in a joking mood and just wanting to get back to the (dis)comfort of my hands, knees and couch at home. But when he looked at me seriously and asked if I was sure I wasn't having contractions, I knew he was not joking. He called the doctor from the practice who was on call at the hospital, and a few minutes later Chad and I were on our way home to get our suitcase and head for the hospital.
Four years ago today, Chad and I made our way up to the labor and delivery ward of the hospital, still trying to grasp the concept that we were about to have a baby. I assumed my hands-and-knees position in the hospital bed and waited for the doctor to come in. I'm pretty sure when she walked into the room she thought she had mistakenly walked in on a proctology patient, but after a brief explanation she realized the situation. It had only been about two hours since I had my check-up, and I was now 7 cm dilated, still not having any contractions. I knew right from the start of the pregnancy that I didn't want to be a hero if I didn't have to be, and I knew I wanted an epidural if there was time for one. Fortunately there was, though I think just barely. I won't go into many details of the delivery itself, but I will say that it was cake compared to the back pain that I had been having. I would go through that labor and delivery ten times before going through even one hour of the back pain I had. Fortunately as soon as the epidural kicked in the back pain disappeared completely and I felt amazing! After about five hours of easy labor and 30 minutes of pushing, our little boy arrived.
Four years ago today, Alec James entered our world and changed our lives forever. At exactly 10:05pm on January 31, 2008, I became a clueless mother. I stared at my little 6lb., 10oz. boy with a full head of hair and wondered what happened next.
What happened next was a blur of four years of Alec that has brought us to today. The past four years have been the hardest years of my life. I have never worked harder or been more exhausted. I have also never been so proud of my hard work. Every day, Alec amazes me with something he knows, humors me with something he says or brings me to tears with his tears. Somewhere in the past four years, Alec went from being a tiny little baby to a wonderful boy, and I am so proud of the boy he is turning into.
While I'm still a clueless mother, four years has made me pretty good at pretending I know what I'm doing. I still can't believe I have a child who is old enough to be sitting next to me playing his Leapster while I blog about him. I'm not saying the years have gone by quickly like I will probably say one day. But they have definitely been full of memories. And I can't wait to see what memories the coming years bring.
Happy 4th Birthday Alec James!!!
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
It's Not Fair!
Ok, maybe I sound like a whiny little kid. But it's the truth: it's not fair!
Having children has taught me many things. It has taught me how to get myself from a sound sleep in bed to a semi-functioning adult in the car in under 10 minutes. It has taught me the humor in jokes that go like this: Alec - "Knock knock"; Me - "Who's there?"; Alec - "Banana"; Me - "Banana who?"; Alec - "Banana basket." It has taught me patience (ok, maybe I'm still working on that one). But I think the biggest lesson I have learned from having children is that life just isn't fair, especially with children.
I've always known that life isn't fair. People pass away who shouldn't. The rich get richer while the poor get poorer. The one day I run to the store for one lone item without even brushing my hair before leaving the house is the one day I run into five people I know. But having children puts a whole new perspective on the unfairness of life. Here are a few examples of what I mean:
1) Kids get sick. It's a part of life -- not a fun part, but an unavoidable part. But what's really not fair about it is that they always seem to get sick at the worst times. There's no real "good" time to be sick, but there are definitely times that are worse than others. Like a holiday, trip, or special event that the kids have been excited about for weeks. But you know that one week where you don't have any plans or anything going on over the weekend? Yep, that's the week that the entire family is healthy.
2) Housework takes twice as long, and there is ten times as much of it. How's that for unfair? Having extra people in the house means extra laundry, extra dishes and extra messes. But it's not that simple. You see, loading the dishwasher by myself takes about 10 minutes. But with a 21-month-old and a 4-year-old, I have to factor in their "help." For every one dish I put into the dishwasher, somehow two dishes get removed. Maybe each kid takes one out? I don't know... I just know that the more I try to fill the dishwasher, the emptier it gets. Same with laundry. And cleaning. It doesn't take a math genius to realize that when you have twice as much work, which takes twice as long to do, that's a lot of time that I could be spending doing something else!
3) Kids don't like to sleep when we do. If your kids are anything like mine, at least one of them is almost always up in the morning before I am ready to be awake. Alec is usually up at 7am, which I should be thankful for because I have several friends whose children are awake at 6am or even in the 5 o'clock hour. Regardless, when I get that 7am wake-up call I just want to crawl deeper under the covers and go back to sleep. But did you notice that I said this is "almost" always the case? There's always that ONE time when we actually have to get up at 7am, and THAT would be the one time when my kids both decide they need to catch up on sleep. It's not fair!
4) Kids drive us crazy for years, then don't want anything to do with us. This one seems the most unfair to me. As much as I love my children and enjoy spending time with them now, I tend to go a little crazy being around them ALL the time. I find myself constantly wishing for a few minutes of me-time throughout the day. Unlike Gwen Stefani, I haven't resorted to locking myself in a closet to escape yet, but that day may not be too far away! It seems like one of them always needs something from me - a clean diaper, a cup of juice, help with a puzzle, a towel to wipe up a spill. I know this is what I signed up for, and most days I really don't mind being a chef, maid, chauffeur, and nurse all at once. But some days I would give almost anything just to be able to finish a cup of coffee in the morning. But I also know that 12 years from now my boys won't want anything to do with me. They will be independent teenagers, embarrassed just to be seen within 10 feet of me. Forget hugs, kisses or snuggles. I know without a doubt that when that day comes I will be wishing for a spilled cup of juice or for one of them to need my help with homework. (Although at this point they will probably be sleeping in AND I will be able to finish a cup of coffee in the morning!)
So why can't my kids be healthy all the time? Why can't the housework take care of itself? Why can't my kids sleep until 9am every day? Why can't I have one day a month now that my kids want nothing to do with me, and then have one day a month 10 years from now when they want to spend all day with me? The simple answer is that life just isn't fair. But that just makes it even more important to enjoy the weeks when they are healthy, even if we don't have plans, or their help with my chores, or those rare days when they do sleep in, or their dependence on me. Because while life with kids may not be fair, that doesn't mean it can't be enjoyable. Afterall, a week at home with healthy kids who like to help with housework isn't exactly something to complain about!
Having children has taught me many things. It has taught me how to get myself from a sound sleep in bed to a semi-functioning adult in the car in under 10 minutes. It has taught me the humor in jokes that go like this: Alec - "Knock knock"; Me - "Who's there?"; Alec - "Banana"; Me - "Banana who?"; Alec - "Banana basket." It has taught me patience (ok, maybe I'm still working on that one). But I think the biggest lesson I have learned from having children is that life just isn't fair, especially with children.
I've always known that life isn't fair. People pass away who shouldn't. The rich get richer while the poor get poorer. The one day I run to the store for one lone item without even brushing my hair before leaving the house is the one day I run into five people I know. But having children puts a whole new perspective on the unfairness of life. Here are a few examples of what I mean:
1) Kids get sick. It's a part of life -- not a fun part, but an unavoidable part. But what's really not fair about it is that they always seem to get sick at the worst times. There's no real "good" time to be sick, but there are definitely times that are worse than others. Like a holiday, trip, or special event that the kids have been excited about for weeks. But you know that one week where you don't have any plans or anything going on over the weekend? Yep, that's the week that the entire family is healthy.
2) Housework takes twice as long, and there is ten times as much of it. How's that for unfair? Having extra people in the house means extra laundry, extra dishes and extra messes. But it's not that simple. You see, loading the dishwasher by myself takes about 10 minutes. But with a 21-month-old and a 4-year-old, I have to factor in their "help." For every one dish I put into the dishwasher, somehow two dishes get removed. Maybe each kid takes one out? I don't know... I just know that the more I try to fill the dishwasher, the emptier it gets. Same with laundry. And cleaning. It doesn't take a math genius to realize that when you have twice as much work, which takes twice as long to do, that's a lot of time that I could be spending doing something else!
3) Kids don't like to sleep when we do. If your kids are anything like mine, at least one of them is almost always up in the morning before I am ready to be awake. Alec is usually up at 7am, which I should be thankful for because I have several friends whose children are awake at 6am or even in the 5 o'clock hour. Regardless, when I get that 7am wake-up call I just want to crawl deeper under the covers and go back to sleep. But did you notice that I said this is "almost" always the case? There's always that ONE time when we actually have to get up at 7am, and THAT would be the one time when my kids both decide they need to catch up on sleep. It's not fair!
4) Kids drive us crazy for years, then don't want anything to do with us. This one seems the most unfair to me. As much as I love my children and enjoy spending time with them now, I tend to go a little crazy being around them ALL the time. I find myself constantly wishing for a few minutes of me-time throughout the day. Unlike Gwen Stefani, I haven't resorted to locking myself in a closet to escape yet, but that day may not be too far away! It seems like one of them always needs something from me - a clean diaper, a cup of juice, help with a puzzle, a towel to wipe up a spill. I know this is what I signed up for, and most days I really don't mind being a chef, maid, chauffeur, and nurse all at once. But some days I would give almost anything just to be able to finish a cup of coffee in the morning. But I also know that 12 years from now my boys won't want anything to do with me. They will be independent teenagers, embarrassed just to be seen within 10 feet of me. Forget hugs, kisses or snuggles. I know without a doubt that when that day comes I will be wishing for a spilled cup of juice or for one of them to need my help with homework. (Although at this point they will probably be sleeping in AND I will be able to finish a cup of coffee in the morning!)
So why can't my kids be healthy all the time? Why can't the housework take care of itself? Why can't my kids sleep until 9am every day? Why can't I have one day a month now that my kids want nothing to do with me, and then have one day a month 10 years from now when they want to spend all day with me? The simple answer is that life just isn't fair. But that just makes it even more important to enjoy the weeks when they are healthy, even if we don't have plans, or their help with my chores, or those rare days when they do sleep in, or their dependence on me. Because while life with kids may not be fair, that doesn't mean it can't be enjoyable. Afterall, a week at home with healthy kids who like to help with housework isn't exactly something to complain about!
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
My Kids are Superheroes
In our house, our typical morning routine goes something like this:
Most mornings this routine works just fine for us. But some days we have plans that start earlier, Chad has an early morning meeting or something else comes up that creates the need for a different routine. This usually doesn't cause much trouble (other than maybe an extra tantrum or two because we don't have time to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse). But I have learned something very interesting from these mornings. I have learned that Alec has a super power.
His super power is almost like a sixth sense. It is a sense that wakes him from even the most sound sleep to alert him that Mommy has gotten up before he has. You see, if Chad has to get up early, he could set his alarm for 6:00, trip over toys on the way to the bathroom (sending them into loud, obnoxious choruses of music and noise, which in turn make the dog bark in alarm), bang the shower door closed, proceed to drop his shampoo bottle not once, but twice (causing loud thuds and perhaps an exclamation of frustration) and slam the door on the way out of the house at 6:45, all while Alec sleeps soundly in his room down the hall. But if for some crazy reason I decide I want to get up at 6:00 (say maybe I want some quiet time with a cup of coffee before the house turns into a tornado zone), the scene is very different. I quietly tip-toe to the bathroom and barely have time to put in my contacts before Alec comes running over in a full blown panic because I am up before he has climbed into my bed.
Chase also happens to have the strength that comes along with being a superhero. Now granted I'm not what most would consider a large person. But for a petite 5-foot mom (5'3" with good heels!), I like to think that I have some impressive strength in me. I built up my arm strength as a drummer in high school and college, and I was the girl's push-up champion in high school. I have no problems lifting or carrying around my boys, who range from about 25-35 pounds. So you'd think changing the diaper of my 21-month-old would be a piece of cake. But the second I lay Chase on his changing table, his super-human strength comes out. I suddenly have to muster all my energy just to hold him still long enough to slide the dirty diaper off and the clean diaper on. That action alone makes me break a sweat. When there's a "number two" involved and I need to break out the wipes, it's all I can do to keep from sitting on Chase just to make sure he has a clean rear end. Most mornings I'm already exhausted by 8:35 simply from the act of getting Chase a clean diaper.
Chad's alarm goes off at 7:00. He gets up, showers and gets ready for work. I usually wake up at the same time, but I stay in bed until Alec wakes up, usually around 7:15. Occasionally he'll wake up full of energy and run into our room yelling, "Wake up! Wake up! The sun is up!" But more commonly he comes over to our bedroom still half asleep and hops in bed with me to snuggle. We'll snuggle for a few minutes (ok, sometimes a half hour), and then I'll turn on Disney Junior for him to watch while I get myself ready. Chase usually wakes up between 7:30 and 8:00, but he tends to be a bit lazy in the morning and prefers to hang out in his crib and wake up slowly. So it's usually closer to 8:30 or so when I go in to get him. And then our day begins.
Most mornings this routine works just fine for us. But some days we have plans that start earlier, Chad has an early morning meeting or something else comes up that creates the need for a different routine. This usually doesn't cause much trouble (other than maybe an extra tantrum or two because we don't have time to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse). But I have learned something very interesting from these mornings. I have learned that Alec has a super power.
His super power is almost like a sixth sense. It is a sense that wakes him from even the most sound sleep to alert him that Mommy has gotten up before he has. You see, if Chad has to get up early, he could set his alarm for 6:00, trip over toys on the way to the bathroom (sending them into loud, obnoxious choruses of music and noise, which in turn make the dog bark in alarm), bang the shower door closed, proceed to drop his shampoo bottle not once, but twice (causing loud thuds and perhaps an exclamation of frustration) and slam the door on the way out of the house at 6:45, all while Alec sleeps soundly in his room down the hall. But if for some crazy reason I decide I want to get up at 6:00 (say maybe I want some quiet time with a cup of coffee before the house turns into a tornado zone), the scene is very different. I quietly tip-toe to the bathroom and barely have time to put in my contacts before Alec comes running over in a full blown panic because I am up before he has climbed into my bed.Now don't get me wrong. I enjoy our snuggle time immensely. I love cuddling with him and just enjoying some nice one-on-one time with him. I know that some day, probably sooner than I am ready, this snuggle time will come to an end. But as much as I cherish this time, every once in a while it would be nice to be able to get myself ready while the rest of the house (or at least the kids) sleeps quietly.
After I discovered that Alec has a superpower, I began to wonder whether Chase happens to have any special superpowers as well. And wouldn't you know he does! It didn't take me long to realize that Chase has been graced with the super power of controlling my emotions. It amazes me how one minute he can make steam come out of my ears, while the next minute he has me thinking that he's the sweetest child in the world. Alec may have a touch of this power as well, but Chase has it mastered.
Chase also happens to have the strength that comes along with being a superhero. Now granted I'm not what most would consider a large person. But for a petite 5-foot mom (5'3" with good heels!), I like to think that I have some impressive strength in me. I built up my arm strength as a drummer in high school and college, and I was the girl's push-up champion in high school. I have no problems lifting or carrying around my boys, who range from about 25-35 pounds. So you'd think changing the diaper of my 21-month-old would be a piece of cake. But the second I lay Chase on his changing table, his super-human strength comes out. I suddenly have to muster all my energy just to hold him still long enough to slide the dirty diaper off and the clean diaper on. That action alone makes me break a sweat. When there's a "number two" involved and I need to break out the wipes, it's all I can do to keep from sitting on Chase just to make sure he has a clean rear end. Most mornings I'm already exhausted by 8:35 simply from the act of getting Chase a clean diaper.I guess it's pretty cool to have kids who are superheroes. As long as they don't try to fly off the house, I think I can handle it. Who knows... maybe some day they'll even rescue me from a burning building. But it does leave me with just one question... If both of my children are superheroes, does that make me Supermom?
Monday, December 19, 2011
Mery hritma
Yes, you read the title of this post correctly. It does in fact say, "Mery hritma." Let me explain...
Christmastime is one of my absolute favorite times of the year. There are only two things I don't like about this time of year: the weather and the germs. Everything else I look forward to with great anticipation. I love decorating. I love baking cookies. I love Christmas music. I love how for one short month out of the year, just about everyone - no matter their beliefs or religion - seems to be a bit more giving and kind. I even enjoy wrapping presents to an extent.
As a child, I always anxiously awaited Christmas morning to see what treats Santa had brought for me. Had I been naughty or nice? Now that I have kids of my own, I'm pretty sure that I'm just as excited (if not more excited) as I was 20-some years ago, waiting to see if the jolly guy in the red suit will come down our chimney and what surprises he has for my own children.
This year Alec is almost four years old, and he is really starting to get into the whole magic of the season. He started talking and asking about Christmas before Hallmark even put their ornaments in their stores, which I'm pretty sure was just after Easter this year. Chase still has no clue what Christmas is, but he is just excited because his big brother is excited.
But back to the "Mery hritma"...
At the end of each holiday season I like to scope out bargains on decorations, cards, ornaments, etc. Rather than pay ridiculously marked up prices in December, I simply wait until early January and buy the same products for a tenth of what they cost a few weeks earlier.
Last year I thought I hit the jackpot. I found very cute Christmas placemats for only 75 cents each. Of course they were probably only 80 cents at full price, but still... I splurged and bought two of them, one for each boy, for a whopping $1.50 total. Five years ago I never would have thought to buy plastic Christmas placemats, but anticipating future Christmas meals with my young boys, I thought this was the greatest find ever. With Christmas already over, I brought the placemats home and put them directly into our Christmas storage that would remain in our basement until the next Christmas (this year).
Now fast forward to the weekend after Thanksgiving this year. Chad digs out our bins of Christmas decorations, and we start going to town, making our house look like Christmas exploded. We get to the bottom of a bin, and there they were...the Christmas placemats that I had bought last year. Somehow I had managed to forget about my incredible find, but there they were, all ready to bring festive joy to our dinner table. I placed them on the table at the boys' seats and continued with decorating.
A few days later we were all eating dinner when Chad suddenly asked, "What is Mery hritma?" I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about and was worried that he had discovered something inedible in my cooking. Then he told me to look at the placemat. Here is what I saw:
Did you notice the picture on the top right? You can imagine my disappointment when I realized that my 75-cent placemats were wishing me a joyous holiday that I had never even heard of.
Don't get me wrong... I have never been the person who gets offended if someone wishes me a Happy Hanukkah or Kwanzaa. Nor am I the kind of person who wishes someone "Happy Holidays." I wish others Merry Christmas and hope that they accept it for what it is - a kind gesture - just as I would if someone wished me Happy Hanukkah. But for two snowmen in festive Christmas attire to be wishing me a "Mery hritma," I was a bit put off to say the least.
At first I thought that maybe there had originally been letters there that had just rubbed off while sitting in storage for 11 months. The placemats were, afterall, not what I would consider luxurious. But after rubbing my hand over the greeting I found the placemat to be smooth and not the kind of material that would flake off. So I investigated further, and here is what I saw:
After straining my eyes, I saw them. Yes, they were there. A very faint "r," "C," "s" and another "s" were tucked in with the other letters, doing their best to wish me a Merry Christmas. Apparently the designer of these placemats thought that it was a good idea to put white letters on an almost-white background.
With some experience in graphic design myself, I couldn't believe that these placemats had actually been produced, not to mention sold. Then I remembered what I had spent on them. I guess I found out the hard way why they were only 75 cents! At least I only bought two of them and didn't go crazy and spend six dollars to get a set of eight.
Now you're probably wondering if we still have the placemats on our table. Well, we do. They still look festive, and unless you look really closely you wouldn't even notice a hint of a fictitious holiday. In fact, it has come to be somewhat of a joke in our house.
So for anyone reading my blog, I would just like to take the time to wish you all a Mery hritma and a Hapy ew Yar.
Christmastime is one of my absolute favorite times of the year. There are only two things I don't like about this time of year: the weather and the germs. Everything else I look forward to with great anticipation. I love decorating. I love baking cookies. I love Christmas music. I love how for one short month out of the year, just about everyone - no matter their beliefs or religion - seems to be a bit more giving and kind. I even enjoy wrapping presents to an extent.
As a child, I always anxiously awaited Christmas morning to see what treats Santa had brought for me. Had I been naughty or nice? Now that I have kids of my own, I'm pretty sure that I'm just as excited (if not more excited) as I was 20-some years ago, waiting to see if the jolly guy in the red suit will come down our chimney and what surprises he has for my own children.
This year Alec is almost four years old, and he is really starting to get into the whole magic of the season. He started talking and asking about Christmas before Hallmark even put their ornaments in their stores, which I'm pretty sure was just after Easter this year. Chase still has no clue what Christmas is, but he is just excited because his big brother is excited.
But back to the "Mery hritma"...
At the end of each holiday season I like to scope out bargains on decorations, cards, ornaments, etc. Rather than pay ridiculously marked up prices in December, I simply wait until early January and buy the same products for a tenth of what they cost a few weeks earlier.
Last year I thought I hit the jackpot. I found very cute Christmas placemats for only 75 cents each. Of course they were probably only 80 cents at full price, but still... I splurged and bought two of them, one for each boy, for a whopping $1.50 total. Five years ago I never would have thought to buy plastic Christmas placemats, but anticipating future Christmas meals with my young boys, I thought this was the greatest find ever. With Christmas already over, I brought the placemats home and put them directly into our Christmas storage that would remain in our basement until the next Christmas (this year).
Now fast forward to the weekend after Thanksgiving this year. Chad digs out our bins of Christmas decorations, and we start going to town, making our house look like Christmas exploded. We get to the bottom of a bin, and there they were...the Christmas placemats that I had bought last year. Somehow I had managed to forget about my incredible find, but there they were, all ready to bring festive joy to our dinner table. I placed them on the table at the boys' seats and continued with decorating.
A few days later we were all eating dinner when Chad suddenly asked, "What is Mery hritma?" I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about and was worried that he had discovered something inedible in my cooking. Then he told me to look at the placemat. Here is what I saw:
Did you notice the picture on the top right? You can imagine my disappointment when I realized that my 75-cent placemats were wishing me a joyous holiday that I had never even heard of.
Don't get me wrong... I have never been the person who gets offended if someone wishes me a Happy Hanukkah or Kwanzaa. Nor am I the kind of person who wishes someone "Happy Holidays." I wish others Merry Christmas and hope that they accept it for what it is - a kind gesture - just as I would if someone wished me Happy Hanukkah. But for two snowmen in festive Christmas attire to be wishing me a "Mery hritma," I was a bit put off to say the least.
At first I thought that maybe there had originally been letters there that had just rubbed off while sitting in storage for 11 months. The placemats were, afterall, not what I would consider luxurious. But after rubbing my hand over the greeting I found the placemat to be smooth and not the kind of material that would flake off. So I investigated further, and here is what I saw:
After straining my eyes, I saw them. Yes, they were there. A very faint "r," "C," "s" and another "s" were tucked in with the other letters, doing their best to wish me a Merry Christmas. Apparently the designer of these placemats thought that it was a good idea to put white letters on an almost-white background.
With some experience in graphic design myself, I couldn't believe that these placemats had actually been produced, not to mention sold. Then I remembered what I had spent on them. I guess I found out the hard way why they were only 75 cents! At least I only bought two of them and didn't go crazy and spend six dollars to get a set of eight.
Now you're probably wondering if we still have the placemats on our table. Well, we do. They still look festive, and unless you look really closely you wouldn't even notice a hint of a fictitious holiday. In fact, it has come to be somewhat of a joke in our house.
Monday, November 14, 2011
I Want the Treat, Not the Trick
This past Halloween was a fun one for us. It was the first year that Alec really understood what was going on and had fun dressing up and going house to house for candy. Even Chase kept his costume on and made it around the whole block. It was also the first year that I passed out treats to the trick-or-treaters. In past years either Chad has done this or we haven't been home.
While passing out candy to all the little princesses, dinosaurs, ghosts, superheroes and monkeys, I began to realize that there were two distinctly different types of children. On one hand, there were the kids that would cautiously walk up to the door, shyly say "trick-or-treat" and act very appreciative when I let them pick out their own treat from the bucket. They were always very polite and never walked away without saying "thank you." On the other hand, there were the kids who ran at top speed from the last house they visited up to our porch. They shoved a hand into the bucket, grabbed as much candy as they could and ran to the next house without so much as a "thank you" or "Happy Halloween," and in most cases I didn't even get a "trick-or-treat" when they arrived. I also noticed that it really didn't matter what age the kids were, so I never knew whether I was going to get a "trick" kid or "treat" kid when a trick-or-treater came up to my porch.
In one instance, a group of three or four older boys, probably high-school-aged, walked up to our door. It was later in the evening, so Chad and the boys had returned from their adventure around the neighborhood, and Alec and Chase were helping me hand out the candy. The trick-or-treaters rang the bell and said "trick-or-treat," and I held out the bucket telling them they could pick something out, just like I had been doing all evening. Each boy politely took one thing and thanked me. But before they turned around to leave, Alec decided he wanted to help by giving the boy in the front a piece of candy, a Twizzler. I just assumed that this boy would take the Twizzler without even thinking twice. But instead he caught me completely off guard. He smiled and said to Alec, "Thanks, but I already took a piece." Alec again tried to offer the Twizzler to the boy, and I even told him that it was ok to take the second piece (afterall, he had been very polite so far). But the boy insisted that he didn't need it and just said to Alec, "That's ok buddy...you can keep that one for yourself." He thanked us again, said "Happy Halloween" and then went to catch up with his friends.
Now after almost two hours of watching countless trick-or-treaters of all ages help themselves to numerous pieces of candy without so much as a thank you, I was left just about speechless. I stood there wondering what this boy's parents had done to turn him into such a nice young gentleman. There are adults who don't act as politely as this boy had! What had his parents done that the parents of the "trick" kids hadn't done? And most importantly, what could I do to ensure that Alec and Chase grow up to be like this boy?
My best guess is that there isn't really an answer to this question. I'm sure there are plenty of wrong things to do, but I don't think there is one specific thing that will guarantee that Alec and Chase turn into "treat" children. I like to think that I am raising them to be good kids, but I can't help worrying when Alec runs over to Chase, pushes him over and grabs a toy out of his hands, or when Chase clobbers Alec on the head with a toy hammer. Despite timeouts, my numerous pleas to "be nice to your brother" or "take turns," and removing the problem toy from the picture, nothing seems to get through to them. I realize that they are just kids and that this behavior is somewhat normal for their ages. But then I'll see other siblings playing so well together or an older sibling helping a younger one instead of fighting with them, and I go back to the question of what these parents are doing that I'm not.
I have tried to explain to Alec that we use our words to express something, not our hands or feet (or teeth). This worked a little bit, but now I'll find Alec one inch away from Chase's face yelling at the top of his lungs, "CAN I PLEASE HAVE THAT TOY? CHASE!!! CHASE!!! I WANT THAT TOY!! PLEASE CAN I HAVE THAT TOY?!?!" He thinks that just because he uses the word "please" that Chase should give him the toy. When Chase doesn't give Alec the toy (which is almost always the case unless I intervene), Alec looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel restraining himself from grabbing it. And if Chase tries to run away, Alec will follow right behind him and "accidentally" bump into him and knock him down. So I'm pretty sure I haven't succeeded in creating a "treat" kid out of Alec yet.
As for Chase, he's just doing what Alec has taught him to do. Alec would take a stuffed animal or soft toy and make it jump on Chase's head, but he knew it wasn't really hurting Chase (at least I think he knew...). The thing is, Chase doesn't understand the difference between making a stuffed bunny "hop" onto someone's head and pounding a hammer into someone's head. And because of this I'm pretty sure Alec has lost a few brain cells in the past few months. So the best thing I can do for Chase now is to teach Alec to be nice, which hopefully will set an example for Chase until he is old enough to understand right from wrong. But if I haven't succeeded in making Alec a "treat" kid yet, I obviously haven't succeeded in making Chase a "treat" kid.
I also am constantly reminded that if I want my kids to be nice kids, I need to be nice too. I'm sure when Chase hears me yelling at Alec for not listening, he doesn't understand why I'm yelling. He therefore thinks that yelling is just a normal part of life. Sadly it is a pretty normal part of my life, but maybe I need to be focusing more on how I act instead of how the kids are acting.
Every once in a while I will catch a glimpse of my boys being "treat" kids. But for the most part they still have a good bit of learning to do. Actually, I guess we all have some learning to do, whether it's learning to be patient, learning to take turns, or learning to handle situations without yelling all the time. For now I will just hope that my kids are just, as they say, "boys being boys." But one day I hope these boys will be nice gentlemen who will make other moms speechless over their polite actions. I know that's a lot to hope for, but it really would be a great treat.
While passing out candy to all the little princesses, dinosaurs, ghosts, superheroes and monkeys, I began to realize that there were two distinctly different types of children. On one hand, there were the kids that would cautiously walk up to the door, shyly say "trick-or-treat" and act very appreciative when I let them pick out their own treat from the bucket. They were always very polite and never walked away without saying "thank you." On the other hand, there were the kids who ran at top speed from the last house they visited up to our porch. They shoved a hand into the bucket, grabbed as much candy as they could and ran to the next house without so much as a "thank you" or "Happy Halloween," and in most cases I didn't even get a "trick-or-treat" when they arrived. I also noticed that it really didn't matter what age the kids were, so I never knew whether I was going to get a "trick" kid or "treat" kid when a trick-or-treater came up to my porch.
In one instance, a group of three or four older boys, probably high-school-aged, walked up to our door. It was later in the evening, so Chad and the boys had returned from their adventure around the neighborhood, and Alec and Chase were helping me hand out the candy. The trick-or-treaters rang the bell and said "trick-or-treat," and I held out the bucket telling them they could pick something out, just like I had been doing all evening. Each boy politely took one thing and thanked me. But before they turned around to leave, Alec decided he wanted to help by giving the boy in the front a piece of candy, a Twizzler. I just assumed that this boy would take the Twizzler without even thinking twice. But instead he caught me completely off guard. He smiled and said to Alec, "Thanks, but I already took a piece." Alec again tried to offer the Twizzler to the boy, and I even told him that it was ok to take the second piece (afterall, he had been very polite so far). But the boy insisted that he didn't need it and just said to Alec, "That's ok buddy...you can keep that one for yourself." He thanked us again, said "Happy Halloween" and then went to catch up with his friends.
Now after almost two hours of watching countless trick-or-treaters of all ages help themselves to numerous pieces of candy without so much as a thank you, I was left just about speechless. I stood there wondering what this boy's parents had done to turn him into such a nice young gentleman. There are adults who don't act as politely as this boy had! What had his parents done that the parents of the "trick" kids hadn't done? And most importantly, what could I do to ensure that Alec and Chase grow up to be like this boy?
My best guess is that there isn't really an answer to this question. I'm sure there are plenty of wrong things to do, but I don't think there is one specific thing that will guarantee that Alec and Chase turn into "treat" children. I like to think that I am raising them to be good kids, but I can't help worrying when Alec runs over to Chase, pushes him over and grabs a toy out of his hands, or when Chase clobbers Alec on the head with a toy hammer. Despite timeouts, my numerous pleas to "be nice to your brother" or "take turns," and removing the problem toy from the picture, nothing seems to get through to them. I realize that they are just kids and that this behavior is somewhat normal for their ages. But then I'll see other siblings playing so well together or an older sibling helping a younger one instead of fighting with them, and I go back to the question of what these parents are doing that I'm not.
I have tried to explain to Alec that we use our words to express something, not our hands or feet (or teeth). This worked a little bit, but now I'll find Alec one inch away from Chase's face yelling at the top of his lungs, "CAN I PLEASE HAVE THAT TOY? CHASE!!! CHASE!!! I WANT THAT TOY!! PLEASE CAN I HAVE THAT TOY?!?!" He thinks that just because he uses the word "please" that Chase should give him the toy. When Chase doesn't give Alec the toy (which is almost always the case unless I intervene), Alec looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel restraining himself from grabbing it. And if Chase tries to run away, Alec will follow right behind him and "accidentally" bump into him and knock him down. So I'm pretty sure I haven't succeeded in creating a "treat" kid out of Alec yet.
As for Chase, he's just doing what Alec has taught him to do. Alec would take a stuffed animal or soft toy and make it jump on Chase's head, but he knew it wasn't really hurting Chase (at least I think he knew...). The thing is, Chase doesn't understand the difference between making a stuffed bunny "hop" onto someone's head and pounding a hammer into someone's head. And because of this I'm pretty sure Alec has lost a few brain cells in the past few months. So the best thing I can do for Chase now is to teach Alec to be nice, which hopefully will set an example for Chase until he is old enough to understand right from wrong. But if I haven't succeeded in making Alec a "treat" kid yet, I obviously haven't succeeded in making Chase a "treat" kid.
I also am constantly reminded that if I want my kids to be nice kids, I need to be nice too. I'm sure when Chase hears me yelling at Alec for not listening, he doesn't understand why I'm yelling. He therefore thinks that yelling is just a normal part of life. Sadly it is a pretty normal part of my life, but maybe I need to be focusing more on how I act instead of how the kids are acting.
Every once in a while I will catch a glimpse of my boys being "treat" kids. But for the most part they still have a good bit of learning to do. Actually, I guess we all have some learning to do, whether it's learning to be patient, learning to take turns, or learning to handle situations without yelling all the time. For now I will just hope that my kids are just, as they say, "boys being boys." But one day I hope these boys will be nice gentlemen who will make other moms speechless over their polite actions. I know that's a lot to hope for, but it really would be a great treat.
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| They're still young... but will they be my little tricks or my little treats? |
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