As cute as it was, it was a frustrating experience for ALL of us. Mainly because Emme kept trying to stick her head in the neck hole first, rather than go up through the big waist part of the  shirt.  I can see her point.  She was thinking, this is where my head goes.  But it doesn’t work that way.  And she kept trying and trying and failing and failing.

And, she would not let us help her.  Every time I reached over and tried to just show her the right way — she furrowed her brow (a trait she inherited from her father….) and frowned, jerked the shirt away, and continued to try to put her head in the wrong way.  So, I sat on my hands.  Finally, even Dave couldn’t take it anymore and he tried to just SHOW her the way to be successful and she actually shoved him away and said, NO  ( a trait she inherited from her mother!)! 

So, we both sat on our hands.

And as I sat there and watched her it struck me that we were experiencing a microcosm of parenting that we would face for the rest of our lives.  It is nearly torture to watch your child try their best and fail — especially when you know… YOU KNOW… how to help them, how to reach over, turn the shirt around and just hand it back to them so they can do it!  You are not trying to take over, just help, for the love of God!  But she insisted on doing it herself…wrong. 

And that is what we get to do over and over.  We watch our kids try and refuse our help and fail.  They insist that they know better than us — or that they can do it themselves — or that they don’t need us.  And we have so sit there saying, “Please let me help you, I can’t stand to watch this!”  But they GET to do it themselves.  We GET to wait, watch, pray, and lose sleep.

Finally, Emme solved the problem.  She switched to a different shirt.  One that buttoned up the front.  She put it on and then… and then…. asked Daddy to button up the front. 

Thank God.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

But that didn’t sit well with us at all.  So, we cheated.  We went out for drinks one night at this wonderful place right on Puget Sound (Ray’s Boathouse Cafe for those of you in the area).  And as the sun was setting over the water we were able to hold up the sealed envelope and read what we had been awarded.  I didn’t like what I found.  Probably because I am a cheater.

I was awarded “Most Effecient.”  Seriously? That is about as sexy as a lump of coal.  Especially in light of the fact that the man whom I would later marry was awarded “Most Charismatic.”  Bah humbug.  Efficient.    Hey there, if you need something accomplished with a minimum of effort?  With the fewest possible resources consumed? In a well-organized way?  CALL ME…here is my number.  Like I said, sexy as coal.

But it wasn’t long until I decided to embrace my efficiency.  I think I came to realize that others saw something in me that I had yet to see in myself.  When I was growing up I would loathe it when I was carrying groceries in from the car and my mom would say, “you may need to take two trips…”  Uh, no, I do not take two trips, I would think to myself and shake my head at the ridiculous nature of that suggestion. Two trips? Whatever. Instead, I would load up 7 bags on each arm, creating red welts in my skin.  But I only took one trip.  So, maybe I did deserve the award.

Nowadays my efficiency looks more like getting all 7 of us to a location on time and with the required equipment.  It means buying Christmas gifts in February.  It means figuring out the fastest driving route to any location I may need to visit.  Afterall, I only have so much energy and so I must use it very wisely.

My gift has grown with me, one could argue.

So, today I took it one step farther.  I received a special notice in the mail from our local energy utility.  They wrote me to inform me that I am WAY more efficient than my most efficient neighbors.  I got two – count them — two smiley faces and was awarded the title of GREAT at being energy efficient.  That my most efficient neighbors consume 1,593 something-rathers and my household of SEVEN only consumes 1,163.  And I am even more energy efficient than I was last year.

Snap.  Take that.  No one who was awarded “Most Charismatic” ever got a letter from Puget Sound Energy.

Look who is sexy now….

Oh, and turn off your lights, why don’t ya?

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

I had been longing for snow since last week.  I usually don’t like snow because in these parts the whole city shuts down and goes a little nuts. 

This year,  however, I  have been looking forward to the snow.  For a lot of the reasons. And ALL of them selfsih.  I have just been longing for a break from “real life” — a forced work haltage (is haltage a word??), hot chocolate, spiced wine, movie day, etc.  I spent the weekend stocking the fridge just in case there was snow.  I made a final trip to get Jade a winter coat and Lily snow boots.  I have been ready for days for snow.

So when the flakes waited until 7:30am to start falling I have to admit I was a little disappointed — the snow was beautiful but it came to late to halt school and offer me the respite I so longed for, and so off the teens went all bundled up.  I then spent the next part of the morning trying –unsuccessfully — to get Ty to wear snow boots to kindergarten.  “But, Mommy, they feel weird!”  That is because they are snow boots and you only wear them about 3 days each year.  You will get used to them.  No luck and on went the sneakers.  The outside temperature read 26 degress and so I gritted my teeth as I walked out the door to take Lily and Ty to school (by the way, Lily did wear her snowboots…).  The moment we walked outside I heard a GASP.

The gasp came from Emme.  In all the bustle of the morning I had forgotten that this was her first snow ever.  She stopped, looked up, smiled her big authentic, “I love life” smile, and pointed at all the flakes and rattled off her paragraph of gibberish that makes perfect sense only to her.  But this time  it was pretty clear what she was saying:  Snow is awesome.  Followed by: Why have you waited this long to show me this.  Then:  Isn’t life amazing, mom?

As the first flake got caught in her long lashes I thought about all that she has yet to discover.  And how lucky we moms are to re-discover so much through the eyes of our children.  We get to see so much for the first time all over again.  Watch as our children’s eye light up at their first Halloween, or eat their first tast of ice cream, or pet their first puppy.  Then we get to see them make their first goals in soccer, or play their first wobbly rendition of “Go Tell Aunt Rhodie” in elementary band.  We  get to see them have their first dates, fall in love, read Shakespeare. 

And we get to sit in horror as they cry because their friends didn’t walk home with them.  Or they didn’t make the goal.  We watch as they come to terms with the fact that life isn’t fair. Or Just.  And that many people don’t know the meaning of mercy or compassion.  And I swear that if I could I would stand in the gap for all five of my kids and take all the crap for them.  Just suck it in to my body and let it destroy me in order to spare them. 

But I know that is not how it works.   Even though I get to watch their journey, their road to discover is all their own.

So, TODAY  I will decide instead to find the patience to let them struggle with the lumpy snowboots and to marvel at the snowflakes in their eyelashes as they discover the world for themselves  — and for me, all over again.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

It is a well known fact that Ty can negotiate just about anything.  A friend and neighbor announced recently that he planned on having Ty — age five —  negotiate the re-fi’s on his mortgage.  I have to have nerves of steel and a heckofa line in the sand when Ty sets his sights on something.  And recently he set his sights on that box of Swiss Miss and that bag of marshmellows.

For days now he has been asking me about the weather report. It took me a while to figure out why.  His angle?  Rainy, wet, or even snowy weather equals….Hot Chocolate.  But I once I was onto him I could tell him, hey, it is not quite cold enough yet!   He then turned to the “others” he figured would cave in or at least didn’t know the rules.  He asked babysitters and friends for hot chocolate.  Nope.  No luck.

Driving home from school Monday afternoon he told me, Ah Mommy, I am soooooooooo cold. 

I was distracted by a garbage truck and the rain. Ah honey, I am so sorry.  What can we do to warm you up?

You see it coming, don’t you?  Well, I didn’t.  Moment of weakness, I guess.

I need Hot Chocolate.  He says in his sweetest, I love you mommy, voice.   So, I answered with the good ol’ mother standby.  Let me think about it. 

He smilled and then actually cackled.  Because, basically, he knew he had me at “I’ll think about it.” 

An hour later, out came the tea kettle.  Out came the mashmellows.  Out came the Swiss Miss.   I even got out the whole milk.

Okay, bud, I said.  You can have the hot chocolate on one condition.  You have to let me take your picture while you drink it.

I am pretty sure that his internal dialoge goes something like this… “SUCKAAHHHH!”

I am doomed, aren’t I???

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

It goes like this.  Izzy knocks over her milk and it spills everywhere and someone announces, “Izzy is THE SPILLER tonight!!!”  She smiles.  Ah shucks.  I get to be THE SPILLER ?  Cool.

We spill so much around here that also have an expression that immediately  follows any spill.  The glass goes over, water goes everywhere and I shout, “Mobilize the Spill-Unit!!!”  Upon this command,  Jade runs for paper towels, Izzy grabs plates and other gear out of harms way, Lily grabs napkins and goes low — mopping up the drips that are already hitting the floor, and Ty… well, we are working on him.  Usually he helps Jade.  I coordinate.  In this fashion we get spills cleaned up and everything back in order in less than 90 seconds and dinner continues.  We are a well-oiled machine.

Except for the time that Lily overwhelmed the Spill-Unit with FOUR back to back spills.  No sooner had everything been put right when.. bloooppp… over went another glass.  She spilled Jade’s milk, Ty’s milk and her own milk…twice.  It was epic.  We still talk about it when the conversation lags.  Hey, remember that ONE TIME when Lily was like the Spiller-Extraordinaire?    Oh yeah, we all say, that was epic!  Then we sort of chuckle.  But the chuckling doesn’t last because another spill is iminent and we have to be ready, on our guard for possible spill-unit mobilization.

Usually the SPILLER is Izzy.  That girl could enter the Olympics if they had a SPILLER event and bring home the gold. 

Last night Ty was the spiller.

The night before it was me.  Like I said.  It is an epidemic.

—————————-

Click here to see Emme and me during a Me Ra Koh photo shoot (last November) for her upcoming book!!!

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

It is the day we FALL back.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh….. bring on that extra hour of sleep.  I have said before how I feel about Springing ahead, but Falling back?  Oh, that day makes all 364 other days worth it.  I love going to bed Saturday night around 11pm and setting the clock back an hour.  “Oh…is it only 10? ” and I snuggle in all proud of myself for going to bed early.

There was a time several years ago after Dave and I were first married where he woke me up early on Fall Back Day for some god-foresaken reason.  I remember my incredulous reaction as I said to him, “You just RUINED my favorite day of the year!!!”  Now, when you first get married there is a lot to learn about each other.  But I will never forget the look on Dave’s face when he said, “THIS is your FAVORITE day of the year?  Seriously?”  Yes, dude, seriously.  It is to his credit that he has never forgotten the lesson he learned that day. 

To be fair, I could go without the dark mornings.  There is something so sinister and depressing about waking up in the pitch dark. And it does signal the beginning of winter.  Which means that  around here we are headed for 6 months of solid rain.  Rain.  Every single day.  Except when it snows.  And then the whole area shuts down.  Oh, I mean it.  Those of you out there in regions where you get snow on a regular basis would be stunned at the Seattle area’s lack of snow savvy.  People start to freak out. Two years ago, the schools shut down because there was a THREAT of snow. When it snows around here people don’t go to work and they call their friends and family to be sure they are surviving.  We even have our own local  reporter who loves to coin terms like “Storm Blast 2009.”  He is usually in a hat, coat, and gloves standing on top of the Space Needle while the snow flurries around him and he — get this — HOLDS ON so as not to be blown away, I guess.  Then he tells us to expect 3 inches of snow and to BEWARE of STORM BLAST 2009!!!!!   Then the one snow plow that is owned by King County starts to work its way around the area.  Cars pull to the side of the road and are abandoned as people claim, “I cannot drive in this stuff! Too dangerous!”  (And, hec, I say pull over if you think three inches of snow is too dangerous.)  When snow is predicted the stores RUN OUT of bottled water as people prepare for the worst.   I wish I was exaggerating, but I’m not.

Now, RAIN we can handle around here – we don’t cancel anything for rain.  But SNOW?  Nope, we don’t do snow.

So, here I am today, all rested from my extra hour of sleep and ready to face Storm Blast 2010.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

But she still doesn’t really talk.  Her words still only amount to “uh oh” “night night” ”mommy” “daddy” and her newest word “HELLO”.  Why, “hello” you might ask?  Because she is obsessed with talking on the phone. Honestly, I don’t talk on the phone THAT much. I am more of a text-er, email-er kinda gal.  But, nevertheless, she loves the phone.

Whereas Ty loved to turn everyday objects into a gun (click here to read that list), Emme prefers transforming whatever she can get her hands on into… a phone.  Then, she holds said object to her and walks around all.day.long. saying …… “Hello!”

Here is the list of every day objects Emme has used as a telephone:

• Baby Monitor
• Remonte Control
• A grape
• A shoe
• A sock
• Sunglasses
• Fork
• Her sippy cup
• A pad of paper
• Car keys
• Rolled up pair of socks
• Star Wars figure
• Calculator
• Flashlight
• Mint tin
• Credit Card
• Legos
• A book
• Granola Bars
• A plastic plate

Oh, and of course, the ACTUAL PHONE.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

A few years back I introduced my own version of the vocabulary game. 

Each year, I pick a word or phrase that is organically grown out of our everyday language at home.  By this I mean, that I actually have used this word in front of my kids and then said kids look at me askance, wrinkle their browns, and say,”huh?”  Anyway, I pick a word and challenge them to use it when speaking to an adult in their lives.  IF they can do so, they win the game.  At first I thought about delivering some sort of prize to any kid who can pull this off.  But, soon it became apparent that the legendary status that comes with using the yearly challenge word appropriately with a teacher or coach is reward enough for my sweet little nerds.

So, a few years back the challenge phrase was “CARTE BLANCHE” — you should have heard the story of Jade going up to her then 5th grade teacher asking her for “Carte Blanche bathroom priveledges.” 

In case you were wondering, the answer was “no!”

Last year I picked a phrase I heard Dr. Phil use one time, “No matter how flat you make a pancake, it still has two sides!”  Seriously, the kids had to weave that into a conversation with a grown up?  Yup.  The winner?  Izzy.  She used it in a book report over the book  Swindle
when the protagonists had to break the law, but for a good reason —  her 6th grade teacher was there, so it counts.  Well done, Izzy, well done. 

This year the word is REMISS.

I mean, THAT is a great word.

Think of all the real-word applications.  “So sorry, I have been remiss at feeding my fish and, thus, it has perished.”  “Excuse me, but I have been remiss in informing you that I need a ride to soccer practice tomorrow.”  “Mrs. Smith, I fear you have been remiss in giving me that grade I deserve.”  Okay, maybe not that last one.

Or maybe the example I just used moments ago when talking to Izzy, “I have been remiss in telling you that this year’s word is… remiss.”

Nevertheless, my kids will be out there looking for reasons to use the word REMISS.  Watch out, they could be looking for you!  So, try not to judge them too harshly when they point out that you have been… well… remiss.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

But the sad truth is we both hate the lawn mower.  I hate it because I miss that loud, growling noise each time the lawn is mowed. I mean, the sound of a running lawn mower screams, “SUMMER” and is just so “cool.”  It’s like the yard work equivalent of a Harley Davidson.  You know what I mean.  But, frankly, our electric lawn mower sounds like a sewing machine.  And I hate to sew.  I think Dave hates it for mostly the same reasons — but he would define it thus: It’s a wimpy lawn mower.  Don’t get me wrong, it works and gets the job done (when it actually gets used…more on that it a sec.) but it screams “Girlie-Man” like nobody’s business.  It doesn’t help that you have to trail a cord behind you as you mow – or that one of the wheels always falls off. 

What have I done?

So, because we have the world’s stupidest lawn mower, our lawn is almost never mowed.  Which is another reason why I hate this mower. 

Here you can see that the indentities of the innocent are being protected.  No one wants to be associated with this yard.

This is the situation that has developed in our yard. In our own defense, we are not big yard work people to begin with, but our yard was designed by the world famous Jamie Durie – who, I might add, is anything but a girlie man.  But you would never know that our lawn was professionally landscaped — all due to our lawnmower. I think it is my fault.  Well, mine and the environment’s.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.