My CFO

I’d like to think of myself as the CEO of my family of four. With all the planning and scheduling and housework, “mom” isn’t a good enough title. If I’m the CEO, then my husband is most definitely the CFO. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that we live on a budget. And we are able to live a comfortable life on one income because the CFO and his monthly spread sheet budget run a tight ship around here.

With all the added stress this past week, I’ve been a little naughty in regards to following the family budget. So, before Mike collects the week’s receipts and starts entering numbers, I think I’d better make a few adjustments to his spread sheet.

Here are the categories I need to add this month:
Guilt purchases: 34.68
Child bribes: 20.97
Retail therapy: 141.52

Subcategories:
Under “medications”: Dunkin Donuts coffee purchases; Wendy’s frosties
Under “groceries”: Ben & Jerry’s ice cream in which I drowned my sorrows (hey, it’s food!)

I think it could have been worse. I unleashed the rest of my stress by rearranging furniture. And cleaning. In fact, I’ve been cleaning so much that I started moving furniture to clean underneath which then prompted me to completely rearrange all three bedrooms and the playroom. I also completed a diy project I’ve been working on during stolen moments of free time.

What do you do when you’re anxious or stressed? I need some new ideas!

Hell Week

This week has been rough. I’m not going to go into any detail because I’m trying to respect my daughter’s privacy, but I’d say that this week has been the most emotional for me since her birth.

Parents get a bad rap. We get blamed for pretty much everything. Kids are misbehaving? The parents must not be effective disaplinarians. Kids performing poorly in school? Parents must not value a good education. Kids are socially awkward? The parents must shelter those poor, poor kids. It almost feels like parents can never get it right. You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

Parenting decisions are the hardest I’ve ever had to make. Because those decisions are effecting someone else’s life. Not my life, not my husband’s, but the very lives of our children are directly effected by the choices we make for them. And sometimes it’s terrifying.

When I was a kid, I thought that when you grew up you would finally know all the answers. That choices would be easier once you were in complete control of your own life.

Oh God, how I wish I had been right.

Being a parent is like learning a language and each child’s personality is a different dialect. Much like English grammar, there seems to be an exception to every rule. It’s dizzying when you don’t know what to do next because it seems like there are always a million different choices, but you need to make the precise one in order to not screw up your kids.

Please, God, let me make those precise choices because I don’t want to make a mistake.

You Have Problems

My daughter had a friend over last week. They were playing in her room when I heard the friend say, “You have problems.” My daughter responded with an amused, “No, I don’t.” and continued to play. The friend repeated it a few more times. “You have problems.”

“No, I don’t have problems.”

“Yes you do have problems. My mom told me you have problems.”

I was sitting in the living room listening to this exchange with my gut slowly shriveling up inside me with hurt and dread and guilt. What do you say in that kind of situation? I called the friend into the living room and politely asked her to stop saying that to my daughter and that if she continued to say it, I would send her home. The friend meekly complied. For about 2 minutes. Then I heard some furious whispering and my daughter burst out of her room crying, ran down the hall and out the door. I ran after her, worried and upset for her. She told me she didn’t want to play with her friend anymore because she was being mean. I wasn’t sure what to say to her, so I thought about what I would do if someone was being mean to me in my own house.

“If your friend continues to be mean and you don’t want to play with her anymore, you can ask her to go home. You don’t have to play with friends who are mean to you.” I wasn’t sure if she’d do it. My daughter’s self-esteem is low and she is so social and loving that she puts up with a lot from other kids for the chance to play with them.

I sat back down in the living room. Playing commenced. About 2 minutes went by when the friend whispered something else and my daughter said, in a clear and loud voice, “You’re being mean and I want you to go home.”

The friend left the house crying and I called her mom to let her know she was walking home (a few houses down) and why she was crying. I can describe the conversation with one word: awkward. When I hung up with the mom, I was still upset. Not at the friend, or even at the mom who told her daughter that my kid had problems, but just generally upset that this was probably just the tip of the iceberg to come. Being hurt by your friends sucks. Watching your child get hurt by her friends sucks about a thousand times more.

That night while I was making dinner, my daughter sat down at the table and asked me if she had problems.

“Do you think you have problems?” I countered.

“No.”

“Then you don’t have any problems.” And I meant it. Because, who doesn’t have problems? If you feel good about yourself and you are functioning well in society, you’re doing just fine. And if anyone tells you otherwise, just tell them to go home.

The Ride is Over

The roller coaster goes up. And then it comes down.

I hit my emotional limit last month dealing with my child’s mental health issues. Five weeks later and I feel like I’m sitting on the bench watching the rides from a distance. With a correct diagnosis, we have received more help and support from the “system” than I even knew existed. We started a mood stabilizer that has changed the lives of everyone in my house. We are receiving In Home Support from 2 Master’s Level LCSWs who call themselves Behavior Health Professionals, or BHPs, 10 hours per week.

I have a Case Manager who has been educating me on all of the programs and resources available to our family. She does all the research and paperwork and we are reaping the benefits. My daughter got a scholarship to take Therapeutic Horseback Riding lessons at a local farm. We are looking into other social activities for her as well. Although, I must say, one activity at a time is all we’re taking on at the moment.

On one hand, I have been super busy implementing all the treatment plans we have been given, juggling appointments and blocks of time the BHPs are here. We still have day camp, trips to the beach, trips to the lake, bike riding, hiking, and spending time with friends. (My kids, not me, unfortunately.) On the other hand, my life hasn’t been this calm in a long time. I’ll take calm and busy any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

The biggest miracle that has occurred from all this? My daughter is SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT!!!! Ever since we started the mood stabilizer, everyone in the house is getting continuous sleep at night. It may not sound like much when compared to the other improvements in behavior and mood, but let me tell you, I am a better person and a better parent after 5 weeks of being able to sleep through the night. This is the first time in six and a half years that I have felt rested.

Only three more weeks until school starts! This mama, as calm as she is, is really ready for the fall.

Remember Veruca Salt?

I’m not talking about the band, either. The all time classic movie from my childhood is Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. If you are anywhere near my age, or if you have just seen the original movie (I won’t even comment on the creepiness of the Johnny Depp remake), you will remember Veruca Salt.

Oh yeah. There she is as we best remember her – demanding something that she wants. Of all the children’s characters in that movie, Veruca Salt stands out. Why? Because she has personality. Yes, she’s a spoiled brat. Yes, she is pretty unlikable and we feel sorry for her father in the movie, being saddled with such a termagant for a kid. But maybe Veruca is misunderstood. She’s a little girl begging for attention from her parents, who are too busy for her and instead indulge her every whim so that they don’t have to deal with any confrontation.

Look at that sweet face. All she wanted was a golden egg! Geez!

 

You’re thinking, What’s the point of all this, Tamara? The point, my dears, is that we remember Veruca because of her distinct personality. Actually, she’s my favorite character in the movie because she completely cracks me up. That girl knows how to get what she wants.

I keep this thought in my head when I’m dealing with the little quirks of my own children’s personalities. This morning, I dropped my son off for his last day of nursery school. He was wearing his favorite Spiderman t-shirt and matching shorts. He was also wearing his Spiderman winter cap and red gloves. He refused to take them off before we left because he said that wearing them makes him Spiderman. So Spiderman/Chase went to school in a winter hat and gloves because I figure, hey, that’s just his personality. Who cares if it looks a little ridiculous; it’s pretty cute if you ask me.

And when my daughter wears her bathing suit to school under her clothes and removes said clothes on the bus in the morning? Okay, okay, I think. It’s just a Veruca Salt. She’s just being who she is, my quirky little firecracker who thinks she looks pretty in her bathing suit.

I grew up with a strong personality. I, too, know how to get what I want. So when my kids are testing my limits with all those personality quirks that make them who they are, I tell myself that they’ll turn out all right. Because I was quirky too and look how great I turned out.

An Introvert’s Guide to Parenting

Hi, my name is Tamara and I’m an introvert. One of the many, many things that I didn’t know about parenting when I was newly wedded and dreaming of babies is that your entire social sphere is altered irreparably by the appearance of a mini-you.

When you become a parent:

Strangers Will Feel Urged to Talk to You. It’s like some invisible door has been opened and people feel comfortable stepping on through to chat. If you are outside of the house and are toting a kid (or two), people feel some sort of common bond with you. Which means they will strike up a conversation. Anywhere you go. You’re standing in the grocery store staring at the wall of spaghetti sauces and trying to decide which one you want while simultaneously remembering something stupid you said 15 years ago and (on the other side of your brain) trying to debunk Sartre’s Existentialist Philosophy. A stranger will roll on up into your peripheral vision and smile and make some benign comment about your kids. Or about children in general. Or (my favorite) ask you a stupid question. Like, “Oh my God, they are so cute! Are they twins?” when, really, your kids are different genders and 2 years apart in age.

This stranger-speaking phenomenon will begin the moment you are obviously pregnant. During your pregnancy, the stranger speaking to you may also touch you. You will, most assuredly, hear at least one terrifying birth/parenting story that will haunt you for the next three months.

Kids will invite your kids to birthday parties. Hello personal nightmare. No matter the venue, it’s loud, it’s crowded, it’s overwhelmingly visually stimulating and you will need to try to keep track of where your child is at all moments while mingling with complete strangers. These parties can last for hours. And you can’t leave whenever you want because a) they haven’t sung Happy Birthday yet, b) you don’t want to offend the parents of your kid’s friend or c) you’re parked in and would have to ask 5+ strangers to move their cars. Did I mention that it’s loud? And crowded?

You have to go places you would never had visited before. There are baby clothes stores, baby furniture stores, photography studios, school functions, school field trips, your neighbors’ houses, ER visits, pediatricians, pediatric eye doctors, any number of specialists if your pediatrician thinks something is wrong with your child’s development. You will visit water parks, amusement parks, local parks and playgrounds packed with other parents who will want to chat because they haven’t spoken to another adult all day long. You will, at least once, set foot in a kid-centric restaurant/playland for birthday parties. See above.

Eventually, your kids will want to leave the house. This will bother you since you can’t think of anything more fun than hanging out at home. In elastic waistband pants. Your kids, on the other hand, will be able to think of numerous places outside of the house and yard that they would like you to take them. See above.

You will dread drop-off/pick-up and/or the wait at the bus stop. The drive-by drop-off is always preferred by the introvert, but sometimes that’s not an option. You will be mingling with the other parents while you drop off and pick up. You will have to stand at the bus stop with a group of other parents from your neighborhood and make *shudder* small talk. (This introvert will say that once you get to know the parents, this won’t bother you anymore. You will look forward to chatting with the one or two parents that you know.)

You will have to do all these things without letting your kids know they bother you, because you don’t want to inadvertently teach them to be uncomfortable in the same circumstances.

Can my other introverted parents out there think of anything I missed?

Killing Time

I sectioned off this time without kids to work on my manuscript, but I’m just not feeling it. I need to do a lot of re-writing and I’m not in the writing kind of mood. The only thing I really feel like doing lately is a whole lot of nothing.

I’ve been spending a lot of time worrying about my daughter. Like how to keep her safe. Guess who figured out how to shut off the alarms on the doors? Hooray to Kindergarten for teaching her to read, and hooray to me for having a daughter who is clever enough to read the word “off” and click the switch in that direction. But boo to the fact that my clever little girl doesn’t have any fear and doesn’t make good choices. And suffers from insomnia and can do I-don’t-want-to-know what while the rest of us are sleeping.

I never realized that being a parent would make you feel so helpless. As much as I want to, I can’t control my kids’ actions. Maybe I can control some little things, like what time they eat, what time they go to bed, but the big stuff is out of my hands. Like making friends and making the “right” choices. Like being safe when I’m not right there to protect them. It’s maddening!

While I was MIA

I want to say that I was doing something completely incredible while I was MIA from the blogging world. Sadly, I wasn’t off learning a new language, traveling through Europe, curing disease, de-worming orphans, or spreading the word to people in undiscovered parts of the world. I’ve been here, in Maine, occasionally finding time to work on revising my book (it’s slow going) and discovering the joy of scrapbooking.

Yes, scrapbooking. A friend suggested I try it after I told her how stifled I’ve been feeling. There are times when I just get sick of the endless laundry, sibling fights, whining kids, cooking and trying to keep a house clean when I have 2 kids that like to mess it up within minutes. So I made a mini scrapbook album out of a brown paper bag to give to my daughter. The creative process was cathartic. I really miss the days of print-based design. Everything to do with design nowadays seems to be web design or mobile app design. I don’t find writing a computer language to create something emotionally fulfilling. Too bad for me that the world has become so high tech.

I have also been dealing with a wandering 6 year old. Again. Now I have alarms on all the doors in my house so that she can’t sneak out when we’re asleep. Which she did 2 weeks ago. In the rain. In her nightgown. My neighbor drove her home and rang the doorbell until we woke up. I’m still trying to figure out how to keep her from getting out her window without nailing it shut or putting bars on the outside. And yes, she did try to jump out her window when her dad put her in a time out recently and she wanted to go outside. Lovely, right? She pushed her screen out and everything. I didn’t think I’d have to worry about my kid sneaking out until she was at least 13. Apparently, the joke’s on me.

Do they make LoJacks for kids? Or invisible fences with shock collars that can’t be removed by clever little fingers?

Snoop Mommy Mom

This may just be my weirdest blog post ever. Because, for some reason, I wrote down some lyrics… to a rap song. It probably came about because I had an old 80s song in my head. Here’s my song, yet untitled. (Suggestions are welcome and humor appreciated.)

Rap it to the beat of JJ Fad’s “Supersonic” (Yes, I’m dating myself. No, I don’t know why I had that song in my head today.)

“I’m just chillin’ in my jammies

It’s a quarter to 5

And I’ve gotta make dinner

The kids are starting to cry

 

They say that they’re starving

But I know they’re well fed

They say if I don’t feed ’em

Then they’re gonna be dead

 

(Chorus)

I’m all up on it

yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

I’m all up on it

yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

 

There’s a fight goin’ on

Under my feet

As they roll across the floor

Grabbing the last treat –

 

Out my pantry

Where I swear I’ve gotta lock

To keep these greedy kids out

Man, I’m gonna clean their clock

 

(Chorus)

I’m all up on it

yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

I’m all up on it

yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

 

They’re hurting each other

The kids are starting to squeal 

So I put on my mad mom face

‘Cause this shiznit just got real

 

That’s all I’ve got so far. I’ve dubbed myself Snoop Mommy Mom, although I liked a friend’s suggestion of Notorious M.O.M. too. Or maybe Bust Some Heads….

 

Parenting Peer Pressure Part 1

My husband and I were having this great discussion about peer pressure the other night. And he mentioned that its nice to be at an age where there is no longer any peer pressure because he just doesn’t give a shit what people think anymore. I agreed that, for me,  there was a certain age that I reached where I started focusing on me and what I wanted vs what other people thought of me and what they thought I should do. But I’ve still got peer pressure making me agonize over stupid things. And it’s all about parenting. 

It started the moment I got pregnant. “You’re not getting the flu shot?!” *Disgusted look* “You’re practically killing your baby.” Or how about when I chose to have a home birth. “Home birth?” Poignant pause in discussion. Looks of confusion. Then horror. “But what if something happens? The baby could die.”

It starts in the womb.

Then the baby is born. “You use a pacifier? You know, studies have shown that babies that use pacifiers experience nipple confusion. And they’re more likely to need braces later in life.”

You take the baby home. “You breastfeed in public? Oh my god, you’re soooo brave. I could never do that.” “Your baby has been crying in her crib for 2.5 seconds. You should really pick her up. Studies have shown that letting a baby cry is abusive.” *Look of judgement* “Why don’t you swaddle her? It creates a womb-like experience for the child and calms her.” “You co-sleep? My cousin and his wife accidentally smothered their 6-month old when they co-slept. I mean, you really need to be careful. Why don’t you just spend $400 on a crib that attaches to the bed?” “An Evenflo car seat. Statistics have shown that the Graco Snuggly Seat has the best crash test rating.”

I’ve felt the parenting peer pressure since I got pregnant, but it escalates when your kid starts school. Because now the competition is on. It makes me sick sometimes. The super amazing crafty mom that hand makes every gift for every holiday. The super gourmet chef mom who brings in some organic vegan masterpiece to serve for the snack. Or just the plain old rich mom who gets a $30 gift for the Secret Santa Swap when the spending limit is $5. Sorry kid that had the misfortune to have his name picked by my kid – that $4 harmonica looked like a cool idea before Kid X opened up the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Sewer Lair that was on clearance at Target for only $99 last weekend.

Right now, my two biggest parenting peer pressures are kids’ sports and parent volunteering at school. These things are weighing on me and making me feel guilty. Why? Because my 4 and 6 year olds are not signed up for any sports. And I have absolutely no desire (none) to join the PTO or volunteer to watch the kids climb all over each other, screaming at the top of their lungs, while they have a holiday party. Hey, I’ll send food, paper products, whatever you need, but I can think of 1,001 other things I’d rather do. Like clip my toenails, or clean out my closet. The sports thing? Yeah, we tried T-ball and my kid didn’t seem to care about anything except the time before and after the game when she could socialize with her friends. She cried at every practice because she was tired and hungry and T-ball practice on a weeknight from 5-6 p.m. just doesn’t work when the kid goes to bed at 7.

I spent 20 minutes clipping Box Tops and taping them to sheets of paper to send to the school last week. It was my penance for not volunteering for anything. But I have to say this: I don’t make any money as a stay at home mom, so my time is a commodity. If I have gotten everything done that needs doing and I have a free moment, I’m going to use it to sit on my big fat duff. That’s right other parents. When the laundry, shopping, cooking, (light) cleaning and errands are done, all the phone calls have been made and there aren’t any appointments for anyone to be driven to, I’m going to be selfish. I’m going to do something with my time that I want to do. So while the rest of you go-getters are planning school fundraisers or driving your kids to sports practice, I’ll be here, playing Candy Crush, reading, listening to Pandora and eating something salty to drown out the guilt.

“Studies have shown that volunteering is an important part of a healthy lifestyle and that eating salty foods causes heart disease and that parents that don’t volunteer and eat junk in front of their kids are setting their children up for childhood obesity, extensive future family counseling, threat of autism, social awkwardness and just general unpopularity….”