This is not BabyD, but it is a toddler immitating him

Tonight, like many nights at a dinner table with a two (almost three year old), BabyD just wasn’t into eating and bedtime was quickly approaching. In fact it was seven minutes pass. And he insisted on being fed. Husband and I are working with him on being a big boy; he is about to turn three. So when BabyD insisted on someone feeding him, we cheerfully asked him, “Hey aren’t you about to be three? You’re not a baby anymore. Time to feed yourself.” He’s the second child, so trust me, he knows what he’s doing and I do sympathize that sometimes he wants to be babied and we certainly do indulge him from time to time (carrying him, thumb sucking, sleeping in diapers, etc.). However, whining at the dinner table is at the bottom of my list for family pastimes or favors.

Look, I realize that I’m a bit hard-core. I have a belief that as parents we need to be impeccable with our word*. I believe that as human beings with integrity we need to practice this at the utmost, but even more so as parents. I believe this is an integral step to children trusting us and listening. I am constantly practicing (as a parent and human being) saying what I mean and doing what I say. I think it’s vitally important as a parent to be consistent in word and deed. And it’s hard, but my attention is on it and sometimes I don’t do so good, but it’s a great learning area where I’m still developing my muscles. When I say, “we’re leaving in 10 minutes” I mean it and most the time, we’re pretty close (but not always).

Husband on the other hand is a softie. He is an EXCELLENT parent, way above my observations of most husbands and fathers. However, nothing reveals our chasm more than moments like tonight (bless his sweet heart).

When BabyD puts on the wails, “feed me!!!!” I put on the ultimatums, “You choose. Go to bed (because it’s past your bedtime) or eat your dinner. Sweetheart, you’re too old to be fed.” The wailing continues. Husband makes the move to pick him up and put him to bed. And please know that we have a long-agreed saying in our household when it comes to children, “we do not negotiate with terrorists.”

But what does Husband do? Reach for the fork! I think I shouted (a little too loudly), “Are you kidding me??? Do not feed the terrorist!!!”

Sometimes, I think I’m just a little too rigid, but it’s nights like tonight that I want to hold on tightly to our principles because BabyD knows who butters his bread (Daddy). I believe this will have implications later to come.

Am I crazy? Am I wrong here?

Husband and I had a brief aligning conversation after putting BabyD down without finishing his dinner, but I still have a moment of pause. Needing friends’ advice…

* A saying from The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom a must-read self help book.

Please don’t be singing sad songs for me.  Mama’s doing alright.  In fact, I must say that I’d give myself a B+ on not being a complete lazy bum while the boys are away.  I’ve done laundry.  However there are four baskets of clothes that are yet to be folded and put away.  I started the yard project, which was damn miraculous.  Although I’ve got about three more days of work to do.  I did foreworn Husband to keep expectations low as to not be disappointed.  He was itching to make me a list, but he didn’t dare.  It’s my vacation, afterall.

So far, I got my yearly girly exam, spoke with a naturopath for an alternative perspective, and addressed some dog training issues.  I’ve visited with an old friend and welcomed another into our home (One of my oldest friends, Jeffrey, got a new job out here.  For now we’re his halfway home until he finds a place to live.).  I also ran away for a quick girlfriends’ trip to San Francisco.  That was debacherous good fun (and I realize “debacherous” is not a real word, but it should be).

I even extended my vacation and had a drunk day at home.  I downloaded the pictures from the weekend trip, slept, drank too much and watched too much tv.  It was great.  Have you ever seen Damn Yankees?  The dancing and quick-witted dialogue captured my heart.  Oh and then Bachelor Pad and Dating in the Dark came on and I eventually fell asleep.  I felt like Mom Gone Wild.  Getting drunk and watching tv.  Oh the excitement.

But it all sounds pretty good, doesn’t it?  My visiting friend said it simply, “It must feel great not to be needed by anyone or anything.”  I know that I’m needed still, don’t get me wrong.  I love this brief break of quiet as compared to the unrelenting demand of little ones’ needs, schedules and incessant talking the rest of the year.  I needed this vacation.  Shhh…did you hear that?  No. Me neither.  Ahhh…

The boys will be back on Saturday and my life full of boyness will be in full swing.  I’ll have changed out the furniture in BabyD’s room (he’s getting a big boy bed and a chest of drawers), made more progress in the backyard, paid bills and finally folded all the laundry.  Monday will be the first day of Kindergarten.  Tuesday will be swim class for BabyD.  Wednesday will be my exercise class and laundry day.  Thursday will be soccer practice.  And life as a SAHM (soon to be WAHM) begins again.

Until then, my wish for you is that you have a moment of not being needed, no list of to dos poking you and no place that you have to be.  Enjoy the silence.  Just be.  Even if for a little while.  Find some moment of peace that is just for you.  Be okay with having a lazy moment.  I think it’s good for the soul. I only have a few more days left, but I’m going to enjoy them fully and quietly.  Mom gone quiet.  Cheers friends.

My absolute worst fear is that my boys will get knocked over by a wave and something bad will happen to them.  See, summer is quickly approaching and one of the most awesomest things about living here is that Lola, our boys and I (and many wonderful friends) spend pretty much every Sunday all day at the beach.  The kids go crazy all day, we pack lunch and snacks and lots of sunscreen, the mommas take turns with the kids and some of us actually get to read and relax to the sound of the ocean, a nice warm breeze, and (hopefully) a lot of laughter.  Super bonus rounds happen when I actually get in the ocean and swim and float and swim…ahhh!  (But that usually doesn’t happen until August or September when the water gets really warm, the stars are aligned, everyone has been fed, no one is in a time-out, no kids sees me walk off, etc.)  Let me tell you, beach days rock.  Beach time has been a part of my recovery program, getting over the utter heartbreak of trading SF urban dwelling for the SoCal ‘burbs.  It was hard, but I got over it (with a tan).

So today was the boys’ first swimming lessons.  When the boys were infants, we did a class or two.  BigBoy screamed pretty much through the entire series and Husband couldn’t take it any more, so we quit.  We’ve also been tortured with screaming fits at soccer and t-ball.  We’re to the point that if he doesn’t want to play sports and it’s not fun for him, it’s certainly not fun for us, so why torture ourselves?  So no surprise when the same behavior was displayed at the pool today.  (Though I have to admit I thought that BabyD would have been a bit more bold, knowing his personality, but I suppose he’s taking after his big brother this time).  Yes, they pretty much cried through the whole half hour.  I feel really sorry for the instructor having them back to back in 30-minute lessons.

The manager and instructor told me it was typical and normal and repeatedly said that it was ok.  And I’m not upset or worried about the crying, really I’m not.  I know they were in good hands, but my problem is two fold.  First, how much of their bad attitude am I going to put up with or will I eventually cave?  Just imagine trying to get them into the building with limited tears and tantrums, let alone getting them back into the water.  Secondly, I don’t want to warp them either.  Will they remember the fits or the great fun of swimming once they get there?

I know, stay the course.  Stay strong.  I am.  However, my fortitude completely lies in my belief that it’s a safety issue (yeah, yeah, yeah driven by my fear, whatever).  When I think about it, swimming is pretty much a non-negotiable with me.  You have to learn how to swim, given our geographical location and lifestyle, right?  We live practically at the beach or the community pool during the summertime.  Doesn’t that count for something?  Additionally, I really don’t want my 5 ½ year old in the baby pool all summer while the 2 year old is jumping off the sides into the big pool.  Let’s not even talk about the Big Fear at the beach.  They MUST SWIM dammit!

Am I over thinking this?  Most likely.  Should I make them swim?  I know how to sell it, make this seem like it’s going to be a great, fun experience (because that too is a possible outcome).  I can stay positive.  I do, after all have a sunshine tattooed on my back side.  However, will those water babies wear me down with the wailing?

I think I need a drink.  What do you think of the situation?  Have any words of wisdom?  I could use them.  Cheers.

I’d like to think that I’m sympathetic when it comes to other parents.  I have no idea what’s going on in that person’s life to act the way they do.  I don’t want judge other parents because I haven’t walked in their shoes and I don’t want to be judged either.  You may very likely catch me in a less than angelic moment.  It happens.  It happens to all of us.  But on a day like today, when I have a short fuse, yeah, I’ll get up and tell the lady to reign in her dog because it’s constantly barking and scaring a kid.  We’re looking at the same thing (her dog) for quite a length of time.  I keep thinking she’s got to do something other than sit there, right?  Nope.  She just let’s her dog (border collie mix) bark at this 4-ish year old boy who is trying to leave on his motorized toy.  I wondered if she was that way (lackadaisical) with her kids too?

Or what about that kid on the play ground who is just simply a bully (HOPEFULLY just going through a phase).  The little brute hit my kids a few times and the mom totally apologized (poor thing), but the way she corrected him is not making a difference.  I suddenly recall the Definition of Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results (this quote has been attributed to Albert Einstein, Ben Franklin and Rita Mae Brown, that’s an interesting mix).  I don’t want to sound like the arrogant bitch or perfect parent here, but the woman needs some parenting advice stat!  (btw, I LOVE Musings of a Housewife’s Raising Responsible Kid series.  She’s my kind of mamma!)

So instead of opening my mouth and inserting my foot (which could still happen) I have developed a Clueless Parent Prayer that I quietly say to myself (sometimes repeatedly) in hopes that it sends them good vibes or simply sends them away from me.

Dear Clueless Parent, I like to think the best of other parents, really I do.  Don’t we all have our kids’ best intentions at heart?  I’m going to assume that you are doing the best that you can and you don’t know what you don’t know cuz if you knew you were creating a monster you wouldn’t intentionally be raising your kid this way. Amen.

Perspective has its advantages. It’s easy to have an opinion, but tougher to say it to their face (I must have been really irritated with the dog owner this morning). I find it’s easier to live by example.  And if my boys ever acted out like a big bully in front of a bully’s parents, I’d have it be a teaching moment for those parents about how to create well behaved children with manners and respect.  Because my little boys are perfect angels. <insert snort here>

Will someone please get me a drink?  I’m starting early today.  Cheers friends!

Are these girls parents?  I sure as shit hope not.  I hope this publisher isn’t secretly a supporter of teen moms.  These cover girls look so young (maybe I’m getting too old!), it looks like they could also do a spread for Seventeen magazine and that’s not right.  To borrow a phrase from the Murmurs:  It’s kinda freaky, it’s kinda weird.  Maybe the girls are supposed to be au pairs, nannies, or babysitters.  But wait, isn’t the title of the magazine Parenting?  Well, I’d love to have more parenting support by the way of a nanny, but that’s not what the content of this magazine is about – co-parenting with nannies and other support.  Hmmmm…. I’m confused.

By a majority, parents are two people, most often a man and a woman.  Surely this magazine could find attractive male and female parents in their 20s, 30s or (gasp!) 40s.  I’m sure some of the real subscribers would gladly send in their fancy photo Christmas cards to enter to win a cover shoot (I’m talking the whole family, not just pictures of their tiny tots).  I also know a fantastic group of hot single moms that are most certainly cover girl material.  That also would make great content (single mom parenting) for an issue.  Let’s not forget the gays.  I know some brilliant same sex parents that would love to represent.  C’mon there’s nothing cuter than two hot gay dads or hotter than two lipstick lesbians that are moms.

So Parenting Magazine, stop kidding me and wise up.  Get rid of your Seventeen cover girl and get some REAL PARENTS on the cover.  Do you really think that a callow girl and cute kid sells?  No, controversy sells!  So I’m gonna blow the whistle on your cover girls, and you’re your publisher, Bonnier, will be pleased.  Because, really isn’t it only a matter of time that you’ll be closing your doors like so many magazines these days.  Why not go out with a bang!

Friends and readers, if you’re at all moved to shake your fist, please send an email to susan@parenting.com and feel free to cut and paste the following:

Dear Parenting Magazine:  Stop kidding me!  Please use real parents on your cover and not callow Seventeen cover girls.  You are writing for parents not au pairs.  Will the real parents please stand up?  Represent.

That’s all I have to say about that.  Pull up a chair, pour a drink and conversate.  Cheers friends!