Archive | February, 2015

Collect Your Reward At The Finish Line

25 Feb

Last week was a tough week for me. The 3 kids were taking turns being sick with double ear infections and a coughing virus that kept them awake at night. I was also fighting something all week and I felt weak and totally off. There is nothing worse than feeling sick and desperately needing sleep and taking care of sick kids who aren’t sleeping. 

I have a dear friend who I often turn to for advice and a swift kick in the ass when I need it. She is about thirty years ahead of me in the mothering game and her days with little kids are long behind her. In the thick of my misery last week I asked her,

 “What’s my reward for all this? For taking care of them year after year, illness after illness, 24/7, forever and ever?” 

She immediately burst out laughing, full on laughing at me. I thought I was asking a serious question. I felt beat down, exhausted, underpaid, under appreciated, and physically sick! What was so funny?

Her response: “My dear, what in the world made you think you would receive an reward for this? There is no reward at the end of the day. Your reward will be that you didn’t raise murderers to be sent out into society.” 

She was right. Who did I think I was? A show dog that received a treat for every good trick I pulled off? There are no quarterly incentives in parenthood, there are no medals for milestones. Talk about a yank back to reality. I needed a good solid reminder about being grateful for what I have. I deserved to be laughed at. I’m not saying my job is easy, it’s not, it’s extremely demanding physically and emotionally. But, I have everything I ever wanted. Three healthy children. That’s my reward. It’s so easy to take things for granted especially when you’ve had them for awhile and you are in the trenches. 

Grateful. I was forgetting to be grateful. Sometimes, it’s good when someone laughs in your face. Sometimes. ;)


Your Kid, Your Business – Until Now

6 Feb

Guess what????

If you want to breastfeed your child until he or she is 6 years old that is really none of my business. Might it be a little awkward for me to try and explain to my children why a child older than them is being fed this way, the first time they see it. But, we would get through it, I would explain it the best I could and it would end with, “In this world every Mommy chooses what is best for her child and that Mommy chooses that, that’s all.”
If you want to wear your 30 pound 3 year old in a sling around your neck absolutely everywhere you go, more power to ya. If you want to send your 5 year old to year round boarding school in Switzerland, Godspeed. You can feed your kid only raw veggies that are grown from your garden on your farm or stuff them full of marshmallows and gummy bears. Not my kid, not my business.
Not my kid. Not my business. Unless, the choices you are making for your kid are endangering my kids.

If you decide that you are going to send your kid to school with
an AK-47 because your kid is highly trained in using it and needs it just in case something bad happens. We are gonna have a problem.

If your kid brings her poisonous rattlesnake to school in her backpack but swears it’s safe because it’s never hurt anyone before. We are gonna have a problem.

If you don’t vaccinate your children against completely preventable diseases that could kill your friends and neighbors, including my kids. We are gonna have a problem.

I believe strongly in letting every person be who they truly are at the essence of their being. Mothers and fathers have to do what feels right to them when raising their children. I know it’s scary being a parent, the choices are overwhelming and paralyzing. Co-sleeping, breastfeeding, potty learning methods, discipline, sign language, Montessori, Waldorf, Parochial, only child, lots of siblings, the list goes on and on…. All of these are your individual choice and totally none of my business.

I know we feel disconnected from what is happening in the rest of the world. As we drive our SUV’s to Coffee Bean, from soccer practice to school pick ups through out our busy days, it’s hard to remember how ugly life can be. Disease is ugly. Measles, Mumps and Rubella are terrifying and ugly. I beg you to do your research. Truly thorough research. These vaccines are not linked to autism. There simply is no credible proof. We need to snap out of our Facebook comas and become students once again and use our brains here. If you aren’t sure where your religion stands on the issue, check in with a religious leader. Just don’t do nothing.


Below: Quotes from Melinda Gates and The UNICEF organization



I Murdered The Tooth Fairy

3 Feb

If they were giving out awards two days ago for shittiest mom of the week I would have won, hands down. The panel of judges in this shitty mom contest would have all looked at each other and nodded their heads because it was obviously a no brainer. I won.

I single handedly crushed my eldest daughter’s belief in all things magical. She is 8 and still believes in the Tooth Fairy. She has sat me down multiple times and demanded the truth, I haven’t caved, this fairy is real and I want to keep her alive.

Until two days ago. I completely robbed my child of all hope that in fact there was a beautiful fairy that came when you lost a darling baby tooth.
She had a tooth that fell out awhile ago and with the holidays and everything, I messed up, I forgot to put the money under her pillow. The next day, I slipped it near her closet and pretended the Tooth Fairy must have Ben disoriented because it was so dark. She bought it. Close call.
She rediscovered that same tooth in her jewelry box two days ago and decided that she was going to put it under her pillow last night since she never truly redeemed her earnings on that tooth. Makes perfect sense, better late than never. She wrote the tooth fairy an adorable note and she had some questions that she wanted answered. She told me that it couldn’t hurt to ask and she would include a quarter for the fairy as reimbursement for taking her time to write HB back. Then she went on to make a little house for the fairy, with a bed and a chair and a dressing area.




I tucked her in to sleep later that night and went about my usual night. Cleaning up, emails, phone calls, lunches, laundry on and on. I passed out at 9pm with my clothes on and next thing I knew I looked up and there was my HB with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Mama she didn’t come, she didn’t read the note, I built her a house, she either forgot me or she isn’t real.” Then collapsed into a puddle of tears on my bed.

All I could think was, what kind of mother does something like this? All I had to do was slip five bucks under this kids pillow and a little note and I couldn’t swing it? What an a**hole. The award for shittiest mother of the week, maybe even the month, goes to 90210mom! Thank you, thank you very much.

The good news is I was basically a high school truant and I can lie like it’s nobody’s business when I’m in survival mode. I calmly explained to her that because it was an older tooth it takes the Tooth Fairy a day or toe to get to those teeth. She must address the newly fallen teeth first.
She. Bought. It.

Here’s our happy ending:
Last night, I typed a lovely note from our dear fairy begging for her forgiveness for being tardy, reminding her to brush twice a day and left $8 dollars because she is 8.
This morning I waited and prayed that it worked. She had the money and the note in her hand when she walked in to my room and was just staring at me. I didn’t say a word.

HB – “Mama did you do this?”
Me – “Of course not!”
HB – “Then she’s real!!!”
Me – “You bet she is.”


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