Christmas Excitement!

Poor, poor kiddos at Christmas time. Think about it: all the pressure to "be good" before the Big Man comes to town next week, coupled with sensory overload, sugar, late nights, fun activities, new snow, sugar, holiday music, more activities, sugar, and more sugar.
Of course we're no exception. Parties, parades, candy, cookies, excitement, the first substantial snow fall, lost gloves, upcoming travel and a host of other holiday "fun" things await these poor kids. I'm having difficulty keeping it all straight, but I expect my kids to be on their best behavior 24/7. Maybe my biggest gift to my kids this year will be for me to relax, and enjoy the ride.

Motion sickness sucks very much bad

Do they make a children's Dramamine?

I don't get it. I can read, watch TV and antelope running, cross stitch and write a novel... all in the back seat of a cramped car with no windows. But lately, put my 6 year old in the back seat of a well lit, comfortable SUV, and he's spewing like a can of beer.

This is not right. I travel. A lot. With kids. And I cannot... I repeat... CANNOT be cleaning up any more partially digested green beans, bagel pizza and grape juice from the back of my head from this child's projectile vomiting.

It wasn't always this way. One time, I gave them one too many Swedish fish. Another time, we stopped at an old fashioned merry-go-round and I pushed them until I got dizzy watching them. I get why I had carsickness on these trips. But this latest spate of home made gifts on the back of my seat, the door, the floor, the child and the car seat? I don't get at all.

We've tried motion sickness bands. We've taken away the DVD player (and subsequently listened to the 8 year old whine for four hours about how it's not fair because it's not HIM barfing all over the car), fed him, withheld food, taken frequent breaks, made him close his eyes. We've found no rhyme nor reason. I have, however, learned a very valuable clue the child gives me approximately 2 minutes before eruption time... "Mom... it's hot back here."

Yes... "Mom, it's hot back here" provides me enough warning to pull the car over, get him out, and have him walk around. I believe I've avoided at least eight Chuckfests by heeding this warning, but it makes the frequent car trips very lengthy. I'd love suggestions on how you battle your motion sick babies because putting him in the luggage rack is simply not an option.

Summer time... and the livin' is easy?

Isn't summer supposed to be about fun, sun and bonding with your kids between school years? So why does it feel so stressful?
"Maaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwmmmmm... I'm bored... Mom, I'm hungry- Mom can you fix this computer game- Mom, Connor wore my underwear and now there's poop stains in them- Mom, can Heath come over and play even though he's bossy and we don't really like him?" WHY did I think I could keep my school aged young males at home AND work this summer? Am I stupid, or is this simply naive thinking?
Seriously. I put them in day camps... many day camps. I have movie days scheduled and camp outs with cousins, library trips and chores, but now I'm wondering if I bit off more than I can chew... and it's only been two weeks! Of course it doesn't help that my husband now works out of state, that my computer bit the dust a month ago and I've spend hundreds of dollars to no avail, and my wood floors are warping like crazy.
I'm in big trouble this summer. Big. Trouble.

The Giving Tree?

What is up with that story? Do you guys love it like some moms I know who get all weepy when it's even mentioned? Or, do you feel like I do... What the crap is this story about?

Seriously, I love Shel Silverstein (think "Where the Sidewalk Ends", or "Falling Up"), his illustrations and his ability to capture the minds of kids.  But "The Giving Tree"???

If you haven't read this book, it's essentially about a tree that gives this ungrateful kid every single thing she has- fruits, shade, a place to swing... in the end, he ends up chopping her down and forgets about the tree. 

Many years later, the boy returns as an old man, and the tree has nothing left to give (because he's taken everything???), and the man sits on the stump.

Just what ARE we moms supposed to get from that story? Be like this seriously abused tree and just give until we're nothing but stumps...  and then be grateful the kids come to visit? And what are kids supposed to learn? To take and take and then demand more once they've sucked us dry? 

Maybe I'm missing something here. Please enlighten me...

Calling Real Moms!

Remember the old Peace Corps Ad: it’s the toughest job you’ll ever love? Yeah, those guys stole that from mothers.

Welcome to motherhood. That place that moves us, shapes us, defines us, is us. Moms. We number in the billions and share one common goal: to get those kids successful… and out of our house!

If you’ve ever told a second grader that he’s an ungrateful little sh*t, then turned around and given him the treat anyway, then you’re a real mom- like me. If you gave up your hot bod for a soft, squishy exterior and sticky hugs, you’re a real mom. If you’ve ever cried long after you thought you were out of tears for a sick or lost child, you’re a real mom. If Cream of Wheat with peaches passes as dinner more than a few times a month, you’re a real mom. If you juggle bills and men and kids and housework and extended family and friends and commitments and often have to try to fit in a shower, you’re a real mom. If you’ve barfed for 6 or 26 or 36 weeks straight… to turn around and do it again, you’re a real mom.

And I’d like to hear from you. What works? What are you feeling? What infuriates you, what exalts you?

By virtue of what you do, you’re beautiful.  Even if your ungrateful second grader doesn’t think so.