Thanks to my nine-year-old and his inquisitive mind, there are so many questions. Thank goodness for Google.
As a result, we learn something new every day. Sometimes every minute.
Can a midget fit in a backpack?
Do fish drink water?
How big is the earth?
Question #1. I already knew the answer to the first question. It depends how big your backpack is. Maybe one of those backpacking-across-Europe backpacks. But let’s check wording, because it’s not OK to say midget anymore. Check out this link for more information on appropriate terminology.
Question #2. I have no idea. According to our search, only saltwater fish drink water. Freshwater fish get their water through osmosis: the gills, skin, and stomach. More information on fish and hydration can be found here.
Question #3. Really big. But, check this out. The Sun is waaaay bigger. We learned that you can fit more than one million Earths inside the Sun. The precise number according to this article is 1,300,000.
As a parent, I have learned am learning that it’s not my job to make everything all sunshiny and happy for my children. Because–gasp!–in day-to-day life, not everything is all sunshiny and happy. We learn from bad days, dealing with tough situations and mean people, heartbreak, disappointment, and feeling overwhelmed.
I read an article, Top Mom Stresses and How to Relieve Them, in Family Circle and a mother commented, “My trick is to have compassion for my kids. I remind myself they are little people who have rotten days and bad moods just like I do.”
Yes! In fact, this is what I heard the first week of school:
1st day: “I love school!”
2nd day: “School is so fun!”
3rd day: “School sucks shit.”
So instead of, Let me fix it for you and make it better.
I tried to be a good listener (not a fixer) and was like Aw. I’m sorry to hear you had a sucky day. Tell me about it.
I listened. We talked. And I could relate. Maybe he learned more about how to handle bad days. And maybe I learned more about parenting.
Don’t be scared, y’all. In college, I had a job as a clown.
I was hired by a party-planning-and-events company to make children laugh. And sometimes cry and hide behind their mothers.
For $50 per party, I donned full-clown make-up with a big, red, oversized smile. A wig. And a puffy clown outfit with big shoes, which made it hard to drive. Add the 20 helium-filled balloons shoved in the back of my Sentra, and I was instant clown car. Bam!
My job description was to show up at the party–in a back yard, living room, or park–deliver the balloons, give my birthday salutations in the form of a memorized “clown poem,” and maybe do a little jig. Half an hour of pure delight. Or creepiness. No balloon animal-making or magic tricks required. Just me, my jumbo smile and jumbo shoes, and balloons that went every which way.
I never did put “clown” on my resume, no need to really. Because in that job, I learned some life lessons that I still put into practice today:
Underneath the make-up, you are still you. So, be yourself.
It’s OK to be silly.
Comfortable shoes. Always.
Now that I have children of my own, my inner clown comes out pretty regularly. Especially during breakfast, when eating ice cream, and taking selfies.
I’m a believer of glass-half-full thinking. You know, trying to stay positive and framing things in the best light. Because life is full of awesomeness!
I am exhausted. Instead: Wow, I got so much done today!
Ugh, I gained two pounds this weekend. Instead: Dang, those nachos and pie were tasty!
But sometimes, my life gets a little too full for me to handle and I get overwhelmed and overextended. Back-to-school, work deadlines, activities. As I was driving to pick up my son from football practice, I noticed the gas tank was on empty. Yikes! Literally and figuratively, I was running on empty.
You should have filled up earlier. Yeah, duh.
When my husband came home, he didn’t judge. He offered to take my car to fill it up for me. Because he’s nice like that and he knew that I needed help.
Sometimes my life is so full that it runneth over my glass. And sometimes my glass and gas tank get empty. That’s when I know that I need to reach out for help to fill things back up.
My daughter and I went peach picking. And we bought like 40 lbs. of peaches.
So for the past two weeks, it’s been pretty much peach everything. Just like Bubba said. But instead of shrimp, peaches.
“Shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. There’s, um, shrimp kababs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo, pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There’s pineapple shrimp and lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich…That, that’s about it.”
To me, peaches are summer. Biting into a fresh peach–especially one I’ve just picked from the tree, one that has been warmed by the sun–and have that juice drip down my chin and get my shirt all stained? Yep, that’s about it.
As a parent, do I need to teach my children how to do everything?
Take personal hygiene. I thought all those years of washing babies, then toddlers, then little children in the tub would prepare them for self-washing.
Yeah, rubbing soap on your belly doesn’t clean your arm pits. And washing your hair with conditioner, doesn’t clean your hair. It just makes it soft. And putting shaving cream all over your body just wastes the shaving cream.
Conditioning shampoo. Nourishing conditioner. Tricky wording. For awhile there, my son had the softest, but dirtiest hair in town.
We have since found the 2-in-1 and even the 3-in-1. Genius, really. No parenting required.
I energetically mother three children: 15, 11, and 9, am married to my college sweetheart, and have a Labrador named Otis. My life is full of laughs, love, and eye rolls. I'm friendly and genuine. Thanks for joining me!