Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Advice, Childrearing, Children, Daughters, Life Lessons, Mom Time, Mother, Mothering, Mothers and Daughters | Posted on 08-05-2013
My daughter learned three life lessons this week.
And I was reminded that I often blurt things out without consulting The Proper Parenting Handbook.
Here’s what happened.
My daughter came home upset that she wasn’t invited to her friend’s upcoming birthday party.
- “What?!” I shrieked. “But you guys play all the time!”
- “Yeah,” she said sadly. “She just didn’t want to invite ME.”
- “What a little bitch!” I said.
Lesson one: Ten-year-old girls can be bitches too.
Another day after school, my daughter came home even more upset that her puka shell necklace–her prized $3 purchase from our trip to Hawaii–broke into 200 puka shell pieces. She was planning to wear it all year, to remember our wonderful family vacation. A boy had grabbed her necklace from her neck (!), sending puka shells scattering.
- “What an asshole!” I exclaimed. “Let’s get him to apologize.” That seemed to make her feel better.
Lesson two: Calling someone an asshole for asshole behavior automatically makes you feel better.
- And I offered, “Oh, Sweetie, I know that was special to you. I could buy you another one but it wouldn’t be the same, would it?”
- “No,” she lamented. “That was my special necklace.”
Lesson three: Some valuable things can’t be replaced, because the value is in the memories.
I may not say all the right things. I may say some very wrong things. But I always try to talk things out with my daughter. Even if an obscenity pops out from time to time.
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Childrearing, Children, Humor, Memories, Mother, Mothering, Mothers and Sons | Posted on 25-04-2013
Tags: childrearing, Vomit Ninja
Clean up on aisle three!
Actually it was the middle lane of the freeway, as we were cruising en route to the tulip fields.
Then, I heard the five words you don’t really want to hear when you’re cruising en route to the tulip fields.
Mom. I. Just. Threw. Up.
Quick. Time to use my Mom instincts. Otherwise known as vomit ninja instincts. I think my eight-year-old son was a little shocked at my lightning-fast skills. Especially, as I only had one baby wipe left and no “just-in-case outfit” packed. I was kinda done hauling around back-up clothes for my kids. Oops.
Here’s what transpired, in like 4 seconds:
- We pulled off at the next exit and came to a screeching stop. Well, whaddya know. The next exit happened to be a rest stop.
- I rolled down the windows before the warm stench filled the air, causing everyone to gag.
- I lept out of the car and undid my son’s seatbelt–carefully and swiftly–so as not to propel bits of whatnot everywhere.
- I used the one baby wipe to scoop off the excess and lifted him out of the car to remove his t-shirt (and promptly threw it in the trash).
- We went to the bathroom to wash off with cold water, paper towels, and no soap.
- Bought him a Sprite at the vending machine.
- And bam. We were back on the freeway, with a stopover at Walmart, where we bought him a new t-shirt and shorts, hand sanitizer, and wipes.
With his tummy feeling better, we made it to the tulip field and ended up having a lovely afternoon.
My son scored a new outfit. And I scored a new title, Vomit Ninja, as he took this photo of me (looking a little bit powerful, I must say).
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Love, Mother, Mothering, Mothers and Sons | Posted on 02-04-2013
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Life Lessons, Mother, Mothering, Mothers and Daughters | Posted on 11-12-2012
My daughter is ten years old. She is thriving.
Isn’t that an awesome word to describe children?
Healthy. Smart. Friendly. Kind. Pretty. Thriving.
She used to be on the shy side. She was quietly happy and happily quiet. At my encouraging, she had play dates. At my pushing, she got friends’ phone numbers at recess. Now she schedules her own play dates.
On her report cards, her teachers write “she is a pleasure to have in class”…”all of the kids like her”…”she makes others feel calm.”
Wow. To me, those words are more important than As. It just took her a few years to build confidence. And to thrive.
Today when I was jogging with my dog, Otis. We passed her elementary school while they were at recess.
Otis stood statue-like, nose in the air, tail in the air, watching the kids. (And to pee.) I squinted through the crowds of children and spotted my daughter playing kick ball against the wall with her friends. They were laughing. Squealing. Dancing. High-fiving. Thriving.
I yelled her name. She didn’t hear. I yelled again and waved like a maniac. She didn’t hear. And she certainly didn’t need Mom checking in on her.
Fast forward 10 years? I know, now, that she will be just fine.
Tags: family, food, friends, Happy Thanksgiving, holiday season, Mom pants, pie pants, yoga pants
Yoga pants? What a misnomer. I mean, who really does YOGA in them?
I think they should be called Mom Pants. Ah, so stretchy. So comfy. So black.
And for the Holiday season? How about simply calling them: Pie Pants. Just in time for Thanksgiving, I have magically transformed my”yoga” pants into pie pants.
May you wear your pie pants with a smile on your face–and go for a second helping–and enjoy your family, friends, and food.
P.S. And, oh by the way, if you actually wear yoga pants to DO yoga? I don’t want to hear about it.
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Advice, Childrearing, Family, Ideas, Life Lessons, Memories, Mother, Mothering | Posted on 13-11-2012
Life is complicated.
Marriage. Children. Jobs. Activities. Household. Appointments.
Dog peeing on the carpet. Algebra homework. Always dieting. Sibling rivalry. Dishwasher clogged. Shuttling children to sports. Grocery shopping.
Everyone needs to be fed. Everything needs to be cleaned. Someone always needs something. Something is always breaking.
But that’s life. That’s my life.
Yet, in our loud and crazy family life, I am adding in a few simple things to help me slow down and enjoy and keep my sanity.
- Sharing a pomegranate. Time intensive, these fruits force you to slow down and enjoy.
- A board game with the family. This weekend, it was Sorry.
- Painting my toenails sparkly red. Even though my toes are hidden under socks and tights for the next eight months.
- A bowl of walnuts in their shells and a nutcracker. Again, cracking open nuts is time intensive, forcing you to slow down.
- Braiding Barbie’s hair with my daughter.
- Walking through the leaves on a Fall afternoon.
I am learning that simple (memorable) things need to be prioritized into a family’s busy day. Because children and mates need to be cared for and fed and loved. Clothes will always need washing. Groceries always run out. There will always be homework to do and bills to pay. Dogs sometimes pee on the carpet.
It’s always something. How about making it something simple?
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Celebrations, Childrearing, Children, Mother, Mothering, Parenting | Posted on 19-10-2012
Tags: children, dancing, excuse, late to school, school
Sometimes we’re late to school because we overslept the alarm. Or because we can’t find coats. Or backpacks. Or homework. Or sometimes we can’t find shoes that match.
Or because I’m on a work call and I’m not supposed to talk on my phone AND drive at the same time. And even if I COULD, how could I possibly HEAR the person on the other end with the NOISE level in my car with all of the before-school chatter and singing and bickering?
Or sometimes we’re late to school because breakfast takes too long. Or the dog got loose. Or because the dog ate the kids’ breakfast off the counter. And I had to make them new breakfasts.
It’s always something.
But sometimes we’re late to school because my kids are dancing.
And I think that’s the best excuse of all.
Please excuse my son’s tardiness. He was dancing.
Thank you for understanding,
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Adolescence, Advice, Babies, Boys, Childrearing, Confidence, Emotions, Encouragement, Family, Life Lessons, Love, Mother, Mothering, Mothers and Sons, Parenting, Sports | Posted on 20-09-2012
Tags: children, confidence, Eagles, football, growing, kids, letting go, milestones, motherhood, mothering, parenting, proud, roots, son, sports, teen, wings
At the hospital, the nurses told me to hold my newborn like a football when I fed him.
Now this six-foot-tall young man plays football. With swarms of teenager girls watching.
I was not prepared for this.
I have mothered this boy-man for 13 years. As the years and milestones pass, I try to support his independence, steer his choices, but ultimately let go. And it’s difficult.
One of my favorite parenting mantras is:
“There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give to our children. One of them is roots. The other is wings.”
I’m better at the roots part. You know, the love and nurturing part?
I am trying to be better at the wings part.
Take for example, football. Do I want my son playing a sport where his body is jostled around and he is required to wear a mouth guard–not only to protect his pretty teeth but to prevent jaw injuries at mega impact? It’s nerve-racking signing all of the concussion waivers. It’s also kinda awesome seeing him in his full gear–with helmet and pads–looking like a man.
He really really wants to play. And he is committed to doing his best.
I am proud of his dedication and enthusiasm. And because of this, I must let go and let him grow. And be his cheerleader.
I can’t help but think of the children’s song, Eagles, which sums up my belief in raising children: letting go.
May this big boy of mine fly down that football field with his mouth guard and his budding wings. I will be watching with love, support, and faith in him. And I may also be sporting a tear or two.
These pictures show me with my son then…now.
Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Attitude, Karma, Life Lessons, Manners, Mother, People, Women | Posted on 19-09-2012
Who knew that at gymnastics class
The other Mom would behave like an ass
When I tried to sit down
She responded in frown
And said “Seat’s taken” (you unworthy lass)
I’m not sure who gave Moms the right to treat fellow Moms so poorly. What?! Your purse sitting on the empty chair–as a place-saver for someone else, who obviously is not here?? How am I supposed to watch my son climbing the rope, as he looks over to wave at me, so that I can wave back and give him a thumbs up?
From a standing position, by the door, obviously.
I felt like young Forrest Gump as he boards the school bus with his gimpy leg, and no one lets him sit by them. Except Jenny.
A tip to that Mom: the next time you are in a crowded waiting area, try to be more like Jenny and less of a “seat’s taken” kinda person.