The Power of Yeah

Well it's been a while since my blog has gotten any love. I will have to blame it on my new marketing job at home. So it all started with the realization that my oldest daughter unfortunately got a good chunk of my not so exciting traits. One of those is a tendency towards negativity. I am a fairly happy person, but it doesn't take much to send me down the road to glass emptiness. Gabby however, not only sees the glass as empty, but that bad boy has a whole in the bottom and a crack on the side. Hence my new project....

We had just finished dinner one Wednesday night, which happens to be solo Mom night, and were brushing teeth and she gave me one Debbie Downer comment too many. I looked at her and said very clearly, "Every time I say something that you want to complain about, I want you to say 'YEAH' and tell me one thing you like about what I said, then you can throw in your complaint". Now that's pretty tricky for a kid I realize, but I also know my child. She is smarter than the average duck and I thought she could handle it. And let me tell you she has (for the most part) embraced the Yeah. Sometimes the Yeah doesn't have quite as much as enthusiasm as some days, but she's doing it.

Now it's somewhat turned into a joke because my husband will walk in and ask "how's the Yeah level today". Some would say we are treating the Yeah like it is its own entity. But gosh darn, if it helps the happiness level in the house than so be it.
I won't call it a total success by any stretch. As I watched Gab slowly melt into a spiral of mess, I asked her where the Yeah was and her response was "I don't feel the Yeah right now Mom". And yes there were daggers coming out of her eyes.

So not 100 percent successful, but if it helps keep the peace and help us all remember to find the good, then I say let's Yeah it up! Show me the Yeah! The Yeah is in house. If you can't Yeah get out of my way. Yeah you get the point...

It's flying

We recently took a family trip to the beach. My kids absolutely love the beach! If the sun is up great. If it's not, that's okay too. So there I sat shivering in my two jackets, watching my wave princesses frolic around in their bikini's loving every second of being there. My husband and middle darling took a walk while the baby, Gabby, and I stayed at our temporary beach home a.k.a. the towels. I watched my oldest run down to the waters edge and come back up smiling and laughing holding the biggest bucket of water she could carry. But when I blinked there was my 18 month old running up the beach towards me. My mind clearly pictured the red and blue bathing suit, the golden ringlets dancing in the sun, and those cheeks bobbing up and down while she ran. I remember thinking I had never seen something so gosh darn cute in my entire life.

Now where did the time go? I realize that my baby is only six years old, but how did that happen? I remember when she was a baby how I wished for those milestones to click off. Wishing for her to walk. Wishing for the potty training stage to end - and boy, did she make me wait for that. Wishing for her to stop drinking from the bottle and just drink real milk. Basically I wished for her to grow up. Now all I can do is try to catch my breath and not be totally overwhelmed by how fast the growing up process is happening. I will admit that some days I love how mature and old she is getting. I feel like we have real conversations. I get glimpses of how we'll be some day enjoying a glass of wine together and laughing. Like my Mom and I. But then there are the other days when I would pay to go back and slow it down and enjoy it.

I guess this reminiscing is what makes me enjoy my final baby even more. The oldest I was rushing, the middle I was too tired to enjoy, but my baby is my final chance. She is the last shot I get at trying to soak up the babyness. Now I know, everyone tells you to enjoy it. But isn't the real reason everyone says that is because they didn't actually do it. Do you ever hear someone say, "boy I really slowed down and just enjoyed my kids being kids". Yeah well I wouldn't believe it even if I heard that. But...mark my words I'm going to enjoy this one. And just try to hold onto those few memories I have of my other two actually being babies.

Oh and I'll be sure to tell new parents to enjoy it because it goes fast. But I think I'll add in the line "because I didn't".

What I don't want to be like

One of the first thing you do when you have kids is come up with a list of all the things you don't want to do as a parent. The "my Dad used to do that" or "God when my Mom used to" comments all come flaring up to the forefront and right then and there you decide you are never going to make those mistakes or act that way. In essence you decide YOU will be the perfect parent. Well as the years go on you discover your parents weren't that bad and some of their traits, rules, etc. weren't really sooo horrible. You say all that because it's really just justification for why YOU have become your parents. And yes, you can fight it, but it's tough when you're going up against your genes, your core being.

I've decided that this whole parenting thing may take me a while to figure out. Let's face it, I've never been a quick study. I thought I might aim a little lower and say that as a Grandmother, I will not be like my parents or like myself as a parent. Now that isn't to say I haven't gotten some really great things from all my folks. And for better or worse, I am who I am because of them. Heck, I am the parent I am because of them. Suffice to say, I'm pleased with some things and could kick the rest. So I figure I will take the next 30 odd years and try to figure this whole parenting thing out and then I will be #1 Grandparent. And yes, I will wear the "I'm the Grandparent That's Cool" t-shirt. I'll be the one you want to visit, the one you want to spend a week at summer with, the one that tolerates you even when you are acting your very worst because I knows you are a little love under that crazy exterior. In essence, I'll be my Mom, as a Grandma.

In my eyes, she was the worlds best Mom. But I can tell you that as a Grandma, she rocks. Sure some days are better than others. Isn't that the case for all super heroes. But, I can tell you that she gets the biggest smiles, the best crayon pictures, and (best/worst of all) she gets the kids in their true form. They are so comfortable with her, they are honest with their feelings. When they get mad, they stomp. When they are fed up, they scream. Ok, that doesn't sound so great. But...it means they are comfortable with her. They love her like a parent. And that is just what I want to be when I'm a Grandma.

But I still have some practice to do.

The Sweetest Thing

It's rare that I'm in bed when the kids are still asleep. I'm usually trying to pull it all together by rushing through a shower, making pancakes, and laying out the flat people for my children to jump in. But every once in a while I let myself climb back into bed and cuddle. My cuddle bunny was all too warm and my pillow was beckoning. Well this morning I got a special treat. I was joined by my two oldest loves and then I woke up and got the baby to join us. So here we were on our normally large enough queen bed all warm, cuddly and basically enjoying life. Now, being me, I realized that soon enough I would be breaking up a fight, negotiating with a six year old, and forgetting to pee because I was chasing a rolling baby, but I still savored the moment.

Rick had to go to a funeral today for an alumni that went to our school. She was killed in a tragic accident and had barely even started her exciting life journey. I felt such a heaviness in my heart today. As a parent your kids drive you crazy and make you want to occasional pull your or their hair out. But they are a part of you. I would go as far to say, they are me. They are my happy. My everything. (and yeah I throw my husband in that bin as well)

So while I thought about Rick today at the service I kept remembering the morning bed rumpus. I tried to concentrate on that feeling I had with my whole family safe and around me. That's a feeling I want to lock in the vault and try to draw on when I want to run out on the deck and rock myself silly. Yes they are occasionally infuriating, but I'll take it. Because that's what life with them is going to be like and I wouldn't trade that in for anything.

Those were the days

While leaning into the toilet to apply my new sanitize and clean gel last night, I couldn't help but think about how times change when you become a Mom. It used to be that I would get excited that a new restaurant was opening or a new bar. Now in amongst kid tv shows I catch commercials advertising the latest and greatest in cleaning products. I find myself feeling excited to rush to Target to see if I can find it. The joy that I feel when that product is finally mine and I get to use it for the first time, revivals the old feeling of walking into Cat's Ally for the first time (my favorite college bar).

I felt a little sad thinking about it. With the flush of the toilet, my old memories of how things used to be seemed to be riding the wave down the drain. But then I stopped and remembered that I'm a Mom. Call it pathetic or sad, but that's what Moms think about. Yeah it's not exciting and glamorous but a new product adds a little pizazz to the daily cleaning ritual. And even though my idea of what is exciting and fun have definitely been redefined, it's not bad. I love being a Mom. I love worrying about how I'm going to get that grass stain out. I want the toilet sparkling so all those cute little girl buns have a nice place to sit.

So yeah times have changed, but I wouldn't go back or trade it in. With age comes a redefined sense of what is important. And if using that new Kaboom cuts down my cleaning time so I can spend more time with the little people, than darn it I'm excited about it.

My Idol

I have found that when you become a parent you learn a lot about what you are good at and even more about what you're not. Basically your faults become blatantly obvious.

This isn't too much of a surprise, but I'm a type A, clean freak, with low tolerance, and a get it done quick kind of attitude. Just the kind of person that makes the world worst parent. Now I'm not fishing for a "ah come on you're a great mommy" statement. I know that there are some things I'm really good at. Some days I would even give myself a small good mommy star. But I think it's good to realize "hey I need work". Luckily I have my idol and role model living under the same roof. Yep, my husband.

Rick happens to be a teacher by trade, photographer and woodworker on the side (amongst other skills), and well a generally interesting person. With all his projects, kids included, he takes the right approach, understands the problem, works to find the solution, and just generally does it right. Now some may find it irritating to have this naturally talented fella walking around. And yes, I'll admit sometimes when you're feeling bad about yourself, the glow of greatness moving through the halls doesn't warm, but stings a little. However, how fabulously lucky am I to have this person as my partner in crime in parenting. Where I fail he shines. When I think "how could I have done that differently", he answers by showing. So I consider myself pretty lucky.

I know I'm a project but how great to have the teacher nearby.

The Next American Idol Winner Is...

Since American Idol is starting tonight this seems an appropriate blog topic. I started to realize the other day that my baby gets the biggest smile on her face when I sing. In fact, when I yell at the kids, scream "dinner is ready", or read a book; she is all smiles.

I love that my voice is the sweetest thing to her. Maybe it's because she associates it with being fed or comforted. But whatever it is, it's a nice feeling. Beats the eye rolling, shrugging, walking away that often follows the airing of my voice. She's not old enough to hate the sound of my voice yet. She's not on to the fact that my voice doesn't always mean fun times are about to ensue. She doesn't realize that even the shower judges would kick me off the first week. Passion and volume are there, but pitch and tone went down the drain. All she knows is Mom is talking and Mom equals love. Such a simple equation, but one that right around 2-2.5 years old they tend to forget. One of my favorite memories in fact is my oldest walking down the hall with my (then) baby and saying, "just keep walking, you don't have to listen to her". Uh yeah, one for the record books.

But until that time comes, I'm going to cherish the fact that she thinks my voice is worthy of winning The Next American Idol.