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Kids Are People Too?

7 Apr

I am pretty sure everyone in my Master’s Degree Program thinks I’m a monster.

On Tuesday I started my third quarter of graduate school. Since my classes usually only have about twenty people in each of them, we go around on the first day and introduce ourselves. The introduction entails some combination of the following; Name, what quarter we are in, where we are doing our training hours, what we did in our former life before Grad school, and what we plan to do with our Master’s degree in Counseling Psychology once we have finished the program.

It is truly one of my favorite parts of the entire quarter when I hear the professor start with his or her introduction. I love hearing little bits of people’s stories and how they got to be sitting in a classroom across from me. The characters and their backgrounds are beyond fascinating. My peers range from Ivy League former advertising executives in their early thirties to recovering addicts turned counselors in their sixties that have had decades in the field.

Except, now that I am reflecting back on what I said during my introduction in Tuesday’s class, I am seventy percent certain that everyone in my program hates me. If they don’t hate me, they will definitely never refer any clients to me. When it was my turn I said my name and that I was in my third quarter. Then, I went directly into explaining that my population of choice will most likely be adolescents. “High risk adolescents, the worse off the better. But, I am still open to all possibilities.” That all sounds fine and good. Then… at the end I randomly added – “Anything but children, I really do not want anything to do with children.”

WHO SAYS THAT?!?!

Did I mention that half the class had said that they were passionate about working with children? I also totally forgot to tell the class in my intro that I in fact HAVE 3 children of my own which might be why I don’t want to work with kids right now. There you have it, now when people walk past me on campus I know they aren’t whispering because I have something on my face or because my shirt is on backwards, it’s because I’m the person who wants to help people… as long as they aren’t children. I’m the woman who hates children.

xoxo

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Blessed as F*ck

30 Mar

There are days when I text friends and say things like,

“If I don’t get a big break from them soon I am going to start drinking.”

What’s interesting about texts like that are that I’m not trying to be funny, I am actually dead serious. There are days that these kids push me to the edge of my sanity. To the point where I wholeheartedly understand the mother on Oprah who was locked in her laundry room with a vodka bottle while her three kids banged on the door.

My kids seem to find a way to locate every last nerve and twist, pinch and flick them until I am a frayed band of sliced strings holding on for dear life. How’s that description of what it’s like with three spirited kids for ya? Pretty different from what you hear all over Facebook about everybody being blessed and grateful and even more blessed.

I suppose I’m just shocked that this gig is still hard, even though I don’t have any babies or toddlers in the house anymore. It’s getting easier is so many ways, I will give you that. I no longer have to worry about one of my kids running into oncoming traffic just because, why the fuck not? That’s what little kids do. The days of even thinking twice about anyone choking on a foreign object that looked “yummy” are long gone. Even my concerns about a stranger randomly picking them up and taking them have waned. I can barely carry any of them from the couch to their bedrooms without killing my back.

The issues are different now. They refuse to do their homework, take showers, stop hitting each other, get dressed for parties, eat dinner, clean up, go poop, stop picking their noses, stay in their own rooms all night, stop hitting each other, sleep in later, stop hitting each other!!!

On good days they won’t do all these thing at once, on bad days they do all of the above and pull out their special tricks, like my son loves to say the word FUCK. The kid adores the word fuck as much as I love frozen yogurt and that’s a lot. It’s funny the first few times, but then it’s not.

Mother’s Log – Yesterday, 7:30pm: I am on the tail end of the stomach flu. My 10-year old is hysterically sobbing and faux convulsing because she cannot believe I am so cruel to want her to take another shower when she just took one the day before, my 6-year old son is in my face yelling F-U-C-K over and over and over, meanwhile, his twin sister has decided she is going to use permanent marker to write all her friends’ names on the living room wall. (plus emojis) 

Would I want to be me, today, 39 and childless? No way. Do I love them so much sometimes that is scares me? Totally. Do I realize how unbelievably lucky I am that my children and I are healthy? I truly do. Is it still really hard at the end of the day to look at the permanent marker on my wall and dark circles underneath my eyes and say I am blessed? Yup.

xoxo

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Smile For Me Sexy Girl

8 Mar

Today is International Women’s Day and I have a few things I would like to say on this occasion:

  1. Every time you call another woman a bitch an angel in heaven dies. Maybe that’s a bit extreme, but you get my point. Bitch has historically been used by men to describe a woman that is uncompromising, strong, or unwilling to give him what he wants. Gloria Steinem says we should reclaim the word “bitch” and make it a good thing. Like, boss bitch or refer to your best girlfriend as you main bitch. I disagree with Gloria, which doesn’t happen very often. I do not want to be called a bitch no matter what awesome word you put before it. I don’t even want to be called a genius gorgeous amazing perfect bitch. No matter how true all of that may be before the     b-word.
  2. I don’t have to smile for anyone. I don’t have to smile for anyone. I don’t have to smile for anyone. I am a grown woman with 3 children and I still feel that I have to smile at everyone because I don’t want them to think I’m a bitch. (see #1)  No matter how many times I have told myself that I do not have to smile for anyone, I still smile at everyone. I’m not saying that this is an entirely bad thing. I think it’s nice to smile at acquaintances, waiters, other parents at school pick up, and to be friendly. What bothers me is when I automatically smile at complete strangers, especially men, like I owe them something. It begins in childhood, “Let’s see that smile little girl.” or “Show me a pretty happy face” and then the teen and adult years, “Why so sad beautiful?” or “smile for me sexy.” I do not have to smile for anyone. My children do not have to smile for anyone. YOU do not have to smile for anyone.
  3. Stop greeting women with, “You look great, have you lost weight?!” Just stop it! Our greatest accomplishment as women is not to see how much weight we can lose or how young we can look. Of course we all want to look and feel our best, thats great, me too! But when the first thing you say to another woman is about their appearance it sends a clear message  to them and to everyone listening about what we value. It shouts out that we value the way the person looks, not how they are feeling, not what they did earlier in the day, only their outer layer and if it appears up to societal standards at the moment. Here’s the best part, guess who is watching us do this to each other day in and day out… our children.

March 8, 2017. International Women’s Day. Donald Trump is the President.

Something tells me that you might be hearing from me a bit more this year…

xoxo

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What I Want For My Birthday

12 Apr

I want to freeze time and make them stay this age forever. HB is 8 and the twins turned 5 this week. I so badly want to be able to fully fathom that these are the meaningful moments. My Dad gave me a book when I was a little girl called, The Precious Present. It was about the simple concept that all we have is the here and now. I’m not sure if I grasped it as a ten year old, but It has always stuck with me and now I get it. Today is a gift if you let it be one. It will never happen again. 

Before I know it, I will have a teenager and then three teenagers at the same time. That thought is scary. That idea for me is actually terrifying. As a young teenager I was every parents worst nightmare. Not that I think that will happen to any of my kids. I am doing everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen.

But- just in case things do go sideways during puberty and adolescence, for the next few years I am going to:    

Deeply sink into every cuddle on the couch. I am going to let them sneak into my room when they feel scared at night. I am going to let them sit on my lap even if my legs fall asleep. I am going to hold their hands every chance I get. I am going to read them a book every time they ask even when they know how to read. I will carry them to their beds when they fall asleep in the car. I will sing them their goodnight prayer every single night for as long as they will let me. 

The Precious Present. 

xoxo

  


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.

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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.
Bam!
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.”

xoxo

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