Wordless Wednesday

Bubbles on a Sunny Afternoon

Originally uploaded by benevolentdictator

 

What to Do When Your Child’s Friends Are Naughty?

I’ll preface all of this by saying that I know that the Bear is not a perfect child. I’ll get downright descriptive and say that she can be whiny and pouty, and we have had the occasional fib problem.

But, I don’t have any worries that she will go to a friend’s house and be blatantly disrespectful to any of her friends’ parents.

Here’s the scoop. She had a few friends over the other day, and they were playing downstairs in the playroom. I went down to check on them a few times and found that the entire basement looked like a Category 5 storm had gone through it. Which is fine, because they’re kids. However, I made it clear that they were all expected to clean it up before they moved on to something else. They all came up a little while later saying that they wanted to play upstairs. I reminded them they needed to straighten up and so they all went back down only to return a few minutes later saying that it was all finished. One of the girls had had toys out in the downstairs bedroom, and I asked her if she had cleaned them up.

She looked straight at me and said, “yes.” At that moment, I knew she was lying. They all went outside, and I went to check the toy situation. All the toys in the bedroom were still there. Straight up lying.

A while later, the kids came in to see me and asked if they could play on the computer. I had just put the Llama and the Bee down for their naps and I said no that they needed to play downstairs or outside because the kids were asleep.

The same girl that lied to me before looked at me and said, “OK, well, can we get all your bras out and look at them?” I had had it. I said, “EXCUSE ME?” The Bear and one of her other friends eyes got huge. A boy giggled. One of the other girls took her hand and put it over the first girl’s mouth.

“Please repeat what you just said, ” I said. She said it again, pretty deviously and obviously proud of herself for rattling me and getting the other kids’ attention.

I took a deep breath and said, “No you may not. There’s nothing wrong or dirty about a bra. Its something that grown up ladies wear. But, that’s a pretty disrespectful and inappropriate question to ask and just bad manners. GO PLAY.”

I can’t decide what I’m most mad about. Lack of manners? Lack of boundaries? The fear that my own child could go to someone else’s house and be, simply, uncouth?

What would you do?

 

Crazy Chic Is Not Me

There’s a certain diaper rash cream commercial that I’ve overheard as I go about my morning routine.

It really irks me.

In it, the voice over talks about the side effects of untreated diaper rash and says, (insert mournful, yet urgent tone) “Infection. That’s right. Infection.” It’s amazing to me that emphasizing that one word can strike fear in the hearts of American moms everywhere.

Either the generation of educated, hip mothers who are raising children alongside me have gotten really dumb or these baby product marketing people are geniuses.

I’m going with option #2 because they’re targeting the generation of moms who have now made compulsive parenting a chic phenomenon.

That’s right. Its not just acceptable, but its cool to be an obsessive parent. And, apparently, the crazier you are about revising all your recipes to include kid friendly ingredients, the cooler you are. A whole group of moms formerly educated and free thinking must now consult Parenting magazine to figure out how to get their kids to sleep through the night and run right down to the store to pick up that very special diaper rash cream with the very special ingredient to prevent infection.

Woe to those who would actually feed their kids pasta and sauce with a red pepper in it.

And those of us who do are considered slacker moms, I guess.

But I’m not. In spite of that fact that I abhor most things antibacterial, my house is generally clean most of the time. Bedtimes and homework times and a general organization is observed. I worry about the Big Things like the mean girl syndrome and the nasty messages little girls send each other. A fatal catastrophe will probably not result in taking my kids to a family function where a cousin may have a runny nose. I don’t worry that an occasional run through the drive through will result in an obese kid. The message that the MOD and I send when we go out for a run or keep up a healthy diet is a far better habit than worrying about the potentially drastic contents of a Happy Meal.

Long term issues occupy my mind: like raising kids with good manners and the ability to make good choices rather than the possibility that their cognitive ability may just be impacted down the line if they watch that episode of Blue’s Clues. Or how to downplay all the BUY ME NOW! messages that kids get in our extremely disposable world. Trying to explain to the Bear why we cannot just head off to Target anytime something breaks, spills, or otherwise disappears could be considered a part time hobby around here.

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the Bee will get a diaper rash which will lead to an infection which will interfere with her 12 month old self esteem and she’ll end up being a 21st century follower of the ideologies of the Manson family. Maybe the Llama will continue to chant Bow Chicka Wow Wow until he ends up being a consultant to the porn industry. Perhaps the Bear will idolize Paris Hilton.

Who knows? But if I go crazy, it will be a MUCH better reason- lack of good red wine available in Utah stores. Sorry. Listening to that Colbie Caillait song- AGAIN. Sorry. Discussing politics with my libertarian friend. I give up. Maybe I’m already there.

UPDATE: This must be on lots of people’s minds because I found this right after I published this entry. With much more style than I can muster, she describes my feelings exactly! So, why is every commercial aired during the am hours selling some kind of antibacterial cleaning product?

 

College Eating Made Simple?

bee&ramen

Originally uploaded by benevolentdictator

The odd fixation continues…my kids have a weird obsession with ramen noodles.

 

An Infestation of SLTs

slts

Originally uploaded by benevolentdictator

No, it’s not a disease nor some kind of species of bug indigenous to Utah.

 It’s the overwhelming prevalence of Shitty Little Toys that appear in our basement, kids’ bedrooms, and in far flung corners of the house. 

I blame McDonalds and birthday party treat bags.

With the help of some very reasonably priced storage units from the new IKEA, the MOD and I turned our basement playroom from a poorly organized room filled with plastic bins to a catalog worthy picture of clean lines and organization.  Okay, that’s a stretch. 

It does look much better, and putting up all the puzzles and games with 160 pieces out of the reach of the Llama and the Bee is worth the money and time spent. 

As I was carefully sorting blocks and Polly Pockets into their own separate, carefully chosen woven baskets, I kept coming across all the random toys that I had no idea what to do with.  I am neither adept nor prolific in my use of swear words, but the phrase “shitty little toys” starting repeating itself in my head.  You know, the tiny pliable figures with the crazy hair or that tic tac toe game missing two Xs from someones birthday party. 

These are the kind of toys that are treasured for about 20 minutes and then quickly abandoned after a piece goes missing under the seat in the car. 

Yes, I am being mocked by crappy little Mike and Sully dolls and generic princesses who seemingly have staked out claims to the inside of the TV armoire and the Bear’s sock drawer.  They have illegally crossed the border smuggling themselves across the relatively secure border of the garage door.   

What to do with all the SLTs?  I deported some of them via the trash can and granted amnesty to a few of the complete, no missing piece toys. 

I’m so going to be accused of good toy-ism. 

 

 

The Bow Chicka Wow Wow Effect Strikes Utah

As amusing as this entry is from the Tiny Kingdom, I felt really guilty.  At least her boys are older than my seven year old daughter. 

Yes, the Bear has been going around the house singing “Bow Chicka Wow Wow” constantly. When I asked her where she heard that since I am assuming that there aren’t any dimly lit low budget films being screened at her Catholic school, she said that she heard it on an Alvin and the Chipmunk’s commercial. 

But, the relative catchiness of that tune hung on around the house, and now the Llama is singing it.  Last night at dinner, the Llama busted out with “Chicka Wow Wow Chicka Wow Wow.”  Our little neighbor, age 10, was eating over and seemed surprised to hear that particular selection at our dinner table. 

The kids went downstairs, and the MOD and I were cleaning up and I asked him if he was bothered by our seven and two year olds constantly singing “Bow Chicka Wow Wow, Wow Wow.”  He said no and asked if he should be.  I looked at him and asked him if he knew the porno origin of that particular phrase.  You know- bad lighting and the air conditioner repair man that makes a “service call” on a hot, hot, hot day.

He looked at me and said, “Well, I doubt that’s where they got it.” 

“That’s odd, because the last few pornos that I rented for the Llama and the Bear had that exact track on it,” I said.

I’m glad that my husband is aware of the fact that I don’t regularly pick up porn from Blockbuster for our kids. 

 

A Very Sweet Tax Deduction

A Very Sweet Tax Deduction

Originally uploaded by benevolentdictator 

Poor girl.  Sometimes I feel like she comes in third behind all the needs of the baby and all the comedy that is the Llama.  But, she is a sweet girl who wants to please so much.  She makes me about 878 pictures each week and cleaned up my closet yesterday just to make me happy.  Of course, we battle over her leaving her stuff everywhere and whether I think that Hannah Montana is suitable viewing for a seven year old.  I don’t, really.  Nothing against Miley Cyrus- she seems to have her head screwed on right.    Its an anathema to me that this year, in 2008, that I will have an eight year old. 

 

A Bee & A Duck

Bee & A Duck

Originally uploaded by benevolentdictator

I know I’m biased, but I think that she is a beautiful baby. Maybe its because she is so calm and content all the time that makes her even sweeter. 

 

A Great Kid

The BearOriginally uploaded by benevolentdictator

Last to introduce, but the first born is the Bear.

When she was two, she got an animal puzzle for Christmas that had eight different animals. She pointed to each animal and named a family member, and when she got to the last piece which was a bear, she said, “me.” A bear. I tried to convince her to be a monkey, but she has always held firm to her first instinct, as a two year old, that she is a bear.

When she was born, the song “The Best Day of my Life” by Dido was popular. It immediately became my theme for motherhood. Regardless of the tribulations that came along with figuring out babies, just to be with her was having the best day of my life. I’m sure that’s not what Dido meant when she penned the song, but for me it always will.  I don’t mean that in an over the top, everything was always wonderful, motherhood overdose kind of way.  I just mean that, in spite of the crap that life throws at you, she was (and is) my personal bright spot.

The bear is a great kid. She is smart and funny and beautiful. She is also very sensitive which no one can accuse me of being. She is also a bit high strung and intense at times. It leads to issues, already, that I am worried will get worse as she ages. She told me the other day, when she was in a bit of trouble with me, that she was the “worst kid ever.” That breaks my heart because I think she is wonderful. She tries hard, and she is extremely kind to the Llama and the Bee.

Due to certain circumstances, I think that I will be able to spend some more one on one time with her this winter and I think that it will be really good for her and me, too. Still, just to be with her is having the best day of my life. Even seven years later.

 

Breakfast of Champions

Ramen Noodles for Breakfast

Originally uploaded by benevolentdictator

Is there something terribly wrong with the fact that my child, the llama, only wants to eat uncooked ramen noodles for breakfast? So far, I have held off serving them to him personally.

But seeing as the Minister of Details is often the one that gets up when the Llama does, its apparent that he sees nothing wrong with dishing up some hard pasta for a two year old at 6:30 am.