Apply Within

March 10 2010 · 8 Comments
Posted in: Me Myself · Tags: motherhood

Wanted: Kind, nurturing type with plenty of energy to spare. Must love kids and noise and discussing zombies with an inquisitive 6 year old. Creativity, imagination, patience, and coloring in the lines are also helpful. As are an extra pair of eyes in the back of your head.

Duties include, but are not limited to and are liable to change at any time:

• Magna Doodle sketching

• child wrangling
• cat protecting
• refereeing
• minimal cooking (cereal, macaroni ‘n cheese)
• watching copious amounts of Disney Pixar movies
• milk refilling
• constant toy pickups
• butt wiping
• playground sliding partner (weather permitting)
• potty training (not required, but those willing receive extra consideration)
• normal daily household chores (again, not required, but very appreciated)

The mother will be on the premises, but mostly unavailable except in case of an emergency. She will probably spend the majority of her time secluded in the bedroom, possibly sleeping, likely “working” from her laptop, or just staring blissfully unaware at the wall. In other words, the mother is in desperate need of a long overdue break.

Position is part-time, 5-10 hours per week on a very temporary basis, or until the mother’s batteries have been recharged and wits restored. You must be available immediately. Payment will be in the form of an endless amount of gratitude and/or cookies.

It’s OK

March 09 2010 · 10 Comments
Posted in: The Kids · Tags: Ethan, motherhood

Putting the kids to bed is always an ordeal. We started out doing it wrong, and now don’t have the energy to change it. Instead of letting Ethan fall asleep on his own, I lie there with him until his eyes are closed. Some nights, this time spent in bed next to my son is relaxing. Other nights, it’s thoroughly aggravating. The yin and the yang. Kind of like the rest of parenting.

The other night, all I wanted to do was watch the conclusion of a television show, but as so often happens, it fell right at Ethan’s bedtime. I could tell that he was going to be excessively difficult that night, and I would miss every last second of what I wanted to watch.

I was right. He tossed and turned every which way for an hour, while I sat quietly next to him in the dark. I was frustrated and impatient. Apparently, so was Ethan. He began to whimper and pout, a pitiful enraged cry mere seconds away. Maybe he couldn’t get comfortable. Maybe he wasn’t ready for bed. Maybe he was fighting it with all he had. Maybe he could sense my mood shifting negative.

Even though I was frustrated. Even though I was upset. I leaned over and kissed the small curve of his shoulder. “It’s OK.”, I whispered in his ear. “It’s OK.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled away every bit of paltry frustration. “It’s OK.”

“It’s OK. It’s OK. It’s OK…”, Ethan repeated to himself in a sequentially softer tone. A short time later, he finally closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Maybe sometimes, we all just need a little reminder.

Happy Birthday, Dad

March 08 2010 · 6 Comments
Posted in: Daily · Tags: birthday, family

Today is my dad’s birthday.

He’s 77 years old.

Most likely, my dad is older than your dad. My dad could even be older than your grandfather. I’ve dealt with this my entire life. During my school years, I would even flaunt his age like show and tell. I was very shy as a child and this was something safe to set me apart from the rest. Though he never appeared to me to be as old as he was. Even still, I can tell he’s getting older, just not that old.

My dad and I were never the closest growing up. Given his age, he has always been set in his ways and hard to talk to. He has a rough exterior, and I was afraid of making him mad at me. Thus, if I ever wanted to go out or do something, I would always ask my mom. If it was something that required my dad’s approval, she would ask him for me.

Growing up and moving out and having kids of my own, now, I can take a step back and see him for what he is. Yes, he is set in his ways. Yes, he is rough around the edges. But I also know that he loves me very much. And I love him.

I didn’t know what to get him for his birthday this year. What do you get a man that has 77 years worth of everything? So we made him dinner, with chocolate cake topped with two 7 candles. Because 77 individual candles might have burnt down the house.

He knows nothing about this space, but I still want to say happy birthday, dad. I hope there are many, many more.

Thank God for Google

March 04 2010 · 13 Comments
Posted in: The Kids · Tags: conversation, Jayden

“Mommy, what’s a soul?”

Jayden is at that tender age where his brain is an absorbent sponge, greedily soaking up every morsel of knowledge it can. What’s scary about this is that the breadth of the information he’s storing comes straight from me, as I’m his preferred go-to person. Though when he must turn to his father, the experience doesn’t fare much better. This responsibility is not taken lightly. I want to make sure I’m answering his questions honestly and correctly to the best of my limited ability. Which means I can’t just make this stuff up.

At 6 years old, most of what he asks is fairly simple. Some, however, hinder me perplexed.

Then, there are those questions that leave me staring slackjawed at the wall, hoping he’ll get distracted by something else and forget it altogether.

“Um, what?”

“What’s a soul?”

“Well… it’s… uh… it’s kind of who you are.”

His eyes began to squint in confusion. I didn’t blame him, I was about to confuse myself.

“You know, it’s… well, like your spirit.”

“Oh… Mommy? What’s a spirit?”

Shit, kid. “Why don’t we just Google it?”

“Helping” Hand

March 03 2010 · 8 Comments
Posted in: The Kids · Tags: letters, Maddie

Dear Madison,

I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for all the “help” you’ve been recently. While your coordination on certain efforts leave a little something to be desired, I’m trying to remember it’s the thought that counts. Plus, it’s already more than your brothers have ever done without a lot of finagling.

You “help” us sort toys, throwing cars and figures in the wrong bin, but it’s a bin nonetheless. You “help” put away the laundry after I’ve neatly folded it into piles. While it’s usually a crumpled mess by the time you get it in a drawer, at least you tried and that is reason to celebrate. When the groceries are brought in, you will even “help” put a few things away, before you run off with the rest.

You also like to “help” delitter the floors by hand, picking up and pointing out every single fuzzy and crumb you come across. If this is your subtle way of hinting, I get it. Vacuuming is on my to-do list.

Even when I reprimand the boys, you are always there “helping”. A little echo of “no no no” trailing on the end of a point that has already been made.

However, there is one area where your assistance simply isn’t necessary. As considerate as your motives are, I don’t need you to “help” me take care of business in the bathroom. I appreciate your concern, but I am more than capable of handling that matter all on my own.

Lots of Love,
Your Mom