The Other Parents

            They have red hair. Their shirts are grey. They drive a red car. Their only job in life is to cook spaghettios and chicken nuggets. They are both boys. They live in “the other neighborhood.” Only boys can go to their house, they chase girls away. They put “sparkles” on Ben’s shirts when he visits. No mommies can  go there because the road  to their house is blocked. There are lots of other boys there to play with. They have red elbows…because they colored them red.  Who are these wonderful sounding beings? Well, they are Ben’s “other parents” and that is precisely what their name is…”my other parents.” Ladies and gentlemen, our family has entered a new stage in life and rather unexpectedly…Ben has developed imaginary “other parents.” Presley is not invited to their house, because she is a girl. Their house is full of fun things to do and when you arrive at their house, assuming you are a boy because they only allow boys into their home, you walk down the stairs and the main living space is a family room in the basement. Yes, the details are very elaborate, and comical at times. These other parents allow Benji to do things that his biological parents don’t allow…such as extra ice cream after dinner, which always consists of spaghettios and chicken nuggets apparently. And they teach him how to do push-ups while elevating his feet upon yoga blocks. They have also taught him different techniques to build things when playing with play dough. These guys sound like great parents! So, why does my son have a new set of red-headed gay parents who are women haters? I have no idea. At this point I’m not quite sure if he’s becoming a paranoid schizophrenic or using these “other parents” to manipulate his way into another bowl of Superman Ice Cream, I hope it’s the latter.

            After talking to a few friends and co-workers, the intense changes that little Benji has faced in the past few months were brought up. Changes that would not necessarily affect an adult, but could greatly impact the way a young kiddo views the world. I began to think about what is different…within the past few months we have moved to a new house in the country from a house in a neighborhood, daycare has changed locations, daddy rather than mommy does most of the transporting to and from daycare now, a grandfather that Benji was used to seeing almost daily now visits less frequently since the move, mommy got a new job, and our daily routine has been hectic lately. Yes, these are things that adults face often, but not usually all at once, now imagine a 3 year old trying to make sense of all of this! And there you have it, he’s created a second set of parents that cook him the food he likes, play games and play dough with him, live in a neighborhood, and have lots of friends for him to play with when he visits! They are much more reliable and stable than his biological parents right now…I’m just not sure why they are red headed gay men, maybe someday we’ll be able to figure out that piece of the puzzle!

Spaghettios won't cause brain damage...

                As I’ve probably mentioned several times within the past few months, I’ve recently started a new job that is always high stress, never dull, usually very sad, and seldom rewarding.  Within these few months in this job I’ve seen children living in filthy homes, kids covered with bed bug bites and sleeping in infested bedding, children with broken bones, homes with only a beer in the refrigerator…no food, and a few kids that just like to tell very concerning stories that are often far from the truth and very embarrassing for their parents. Working in this job every day has taught me a few things about my own children…

1. Frozen pizza or spaghettios once a week won’t kill my kids, I’ve found that they actually love me more when I feed them these items!

2. Keeping them up a few minutes past their bedtime (often for some extra snuggle time) doesn’t ruin their schedule permanently.

3. Skipping a nap on the weekends isn’t all that bad…especially if time is spent playing with cousins!

4. Being dirty is fine…bathtime will roll around in a couple of hours!

5. It’s okay for kiddos to hear or see mommy and daddy disagree sometimes…yes, I said MOMMY AND DADDY!  Many children are not fortunate to have both in their lives, mine are.

So, the days when I’m too tired to read 2 books at night, I have learned not to let myself feel too guilty about reading just one to the kiddos, and spaghettios won’t cause long-term brain damage…I hope. 

Yoga Time

            There’s nothing like a child to make you feel a little bit guilty. Adam and I arrived home about the same time today, which is highly unusual, but it worked out perfectly. Benji jumped out of Adam’s car and quickly ran to my car to inform me that “daddy’s car won because it has nitrous.” Now, there was a time when I believed that my husband’s previous vehicle, a kia sportage, was fully equipped with nitrous…until I learned that it was just a passing gear, however I’m very positive that our family Durango does NOT have nitrous! Anyway, I let Benji go on believing daddy’s story. After informing me of the questionable substance used to race mommy’s car home, Benji ran to help Adam unload wood. He was obviously full of energy today. After loading and unloading wood, Ben finally came into the house and walked onto my yoga mat, which had remained on the floor from the last time I did yoga, which was….maybe 2 nights ago. As I’ve said before I’m not in the running for best housekeeper this year! Anyway, Benji asked to do yoga which surprised me because he had only done it with me once before and lost interest very quickly. I informed him that he could do yoga, however he would have to do it alone because I needed to get dinner ready, he agreed. I found my P90X Yoga DVD and pressed play, he began and continued for 15-20 minutes. Rather than getting dinner around, I sat my lazy butt in the chair and watched him. As entertaining as it was, I was quickly reminded that my 3 year old son was energetically performing advanced yoga while I was sitting in the lazy boy! After he was finished he said, "I'm tired with yoga, I feel like I need a snack and I think it needs to be candy." Instead of candy I jumped up as soon as Benji was finished, got dinner around, which consisted of a frozen pizza and dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets (today happens to be Adam’s and my 4 year anniversary…yes, this was our anniversary meal.) After a couple slices of pizza and a handful of dinosaur nuggets, I was feeling incredibly lazy and very full of processed foods. Who ever thought of molding chicken parts into the shape of dinosaurs anyway, why not process them into the shape of chickens? After dinner was cleaned up, baths had been given to the kiddos, and a few other mundane household chores were completed, I felt it necessary to restart the P90X yoga video for myself. This time it was me, a little less energetically, but performing yoga nonetheless, while Adam sat in the lazy boy. I’m quite sure that he didn’t feel the guilt, and I don’t think I’m as entertaining to watch, but it wasn’t long before he left the room and I had 30 minutes of peace and quiet to myself…and a few animals who always feel the need to be a part of everything I do. As I sit here, again on the couch, I’m still feeling that I need to do something more to outdo my 3 year old. Maybe I’ll hold off for tonight and convince myself that I’ll wake up at 5:30 AM to run a few miles!

I'M NOT SICK!!!

            The relationship between siblings is not one that can be described as “typical” or “average” or anything else that we hear on a daily basis when parents talk about their children. Growing up in a sib set of 3 and being the youngest by a great margin, the relationship that I once had with my brothers is not the relationship that I have with my brothers now, and the relationship that I currently have with one brother is completely different than the relationship I have with my other brother. The bond that siblings have, or in certain cases, the lack of a bond is private and intimate, and not something that is really ever verbally discussed, but physically displayed among one another, but I’m not sure that as a parent, you can ever really know how your children feel about each other.  As you all know, I have two children, one boy and one girl and as I have often said…they love each other. I’m always very impressed with how caring Benji is with his sister, and although he feels the need to tattle on his baby sister for pushing him (keep in mind, she’s 1 year old), he takes care of her. It’s not uncommon for me to happen upon him sharing food, toys, and games with her, and tickling her to “make her laugh” if she is crying about something (usually the fact that Benji is in her face and she is annoyed.)

            Last week, I truly realized how blessed I am and how thankful I am to have two kiddos that are so close. I realize that I will most likely be singing a different tune in a few years, but I felt the need to write about this now so it could forever be remembered…and shown to my children when they are 16 and 18 and are fighting about who gets to use the car on Saturday night. A couple of weeks ago the cold, or flu, or “it’s viral, we can’t prescribe anything” type of sickness rolled through our home. Presley first, and then a few days later, Benji.  Adam agreed to take the day off to stay home with our sick cowboy. Well, our sick cowboy did everything his three year old mind could think of to convince Adam and me that he WAS NOT SICK! Although he had a fever from hell and continued to vomit continuously while screaming…obviously he hates to vomit, he WAS NOT SICK! With good reason, we didn’t believe him and couldn’t figure out why he didn’t want to stay home and watch movies all day while Presley went to daycare. He was upset, more than upset, and sad. As I explained to Benji that I was going to take “Pooey” to daycare so he could relax and watch movies all day with Daddy and not have to worry about her stealing the remote, he cried and wanted to go “get his dress on” (this is what he calls getting dressed…someday when I get over the humor of this statement I will address the fact that he needs to re-evaluate what he is actually saying.) As I was putting Presley’s coat on her, Benji yelled out, “she can’t go to school without me, she’s too little.” I’ve always known that Benji loves his lil sister Pooey, but it wasn’t until this moment that it really struck me how much he cares about her and her well-being. Benji was truly upset and concerned that he needed to be around her to watch out for her. I know that once he is at daycare he pays no attention to his little sister, but the fact that he is so aware that he is able to watch out for her hit a nerve in the “mom” part of my heart.

You need to pick up your room...

            As I walked into Benji’s bedroom tonight, it appeared as if a tornado had preceded me. I have never claimed to be a great housekeeper and it is not uncommon to witness my house in disarray, but what I saw in Ben’s room was much, much more than a few toys out of place. I really should have taken a picture, but I was instantly transformed into cleaning mode, and Adam was at my side…and Ben mostly watched us. I did, however, make him put his books away that were scattered all over the floor. Along with the books, there was an entire dresser drawer full of clothes, play dough along with 356 play dough accessories, preschool workbooks, blankets, ripped up board game boxes with the contents scattered everywhere, a batman mask along with several other super hero costumes, action figures all over the bed,  and a ripped up Christmas gift bag of which the origin I don’t know since we’re currently nearing February. My description does not necessarily give a good picture of what the floor of this bedroom looked like, but trust me…it was definitely a fire hazard. After a few minutes of intensive organizing the room was livable, still not perfection, but livable. I began to lecture Benji on keeping his room neat and picked up, still he sat on the sidelines and watched us…I assumed that everything I was saying had gone in one ear and right out the other. Our conversation was as follows:

Me: “Ben, you can’t leave your room a mess every time you come up here to play.”

Ben: “Awwww..”

Me: “It’s been a mess for too long, you need to pick up your room when you get toys out. These books need to be put away before any tv is turned on tonight.”

Ben: “Awww…”

Me: “PICK UP YOUR BOOKS.”

Ben: “Oookay.”

Me: “What happened in here anyway?  This is ridiculous.”

Ben: (throwing his hands down in disgust) “Well, I started to turn into the Hulk.”

            And with that, I laughed. Just when I begin to think that my child needs to have more of an imagination, he throws something out there that is just amazing! I told Benji that although that was probably the best excuse that he had ever given me, and my favorite of all time, he still had to clean up. Adam informed Ben that Hulk cleans up his room, Ben disagreed of course. So, I’ve learned a few things from this… first of all, Benji will not be allowed to wear his Hulk costume or mask while unsupervised in his bedroom….ever again! And secondly, I learned that he’s going to be an excellent excuse maker as he grows up, but at least I got a good laugh out of this one! The teenage excuses make me nervous, but I have a few years before I really have to worry about that.

The Perfect Team

                The more my husband and I grow in our marriage, the more I begin to realize that we were meant for one another. I mean, you always believe that you’re soul mates initially when everything is butterflies and rainbows and every song that plays on the radio seems to be about your relationship, but then you get married…and it’s hard, and not always butterflies and rainbows, and you realize that many of those songs that you thought were so great are actually about heartbreak. I cannot speak for all marriages, but I know that my husband and I have been through some rough patches that have made both of us question our initial “soul mate” status. I’m thankful that Adam and I both faithfully believe in the institution of marriage and have “stuck with it” for lack of a better word. There’s never been a question as to where the love is, however sometimes it seems that the frustration overshadows everything…but still we’ve kept on keeping on, for better or for worse right?

            Well, it occurred to me recently that I may or may not be a terrible housekeeper and my lack of organizational skills in my home is evident to anyone that has come over unannounced, or at times even announced. This is something that was blatantly obvious to Adam the first time he ever came to my house…when I refused to let him inside. I was sure that if he saw my housekeeping skills he would be long gone. He chose to accept me anyway, although I’ve found my things stashed in the trash can or hidden in the basement on more than one occasion when he becomes a little more than irritated with my mess. Yesterday though, I realized that after nearly 4 years of marriage, I’m sure this is going to work out and we’ll still be arguing over the unorganized refrigerator and my clothes on the bedroom floor when we’re 87 years old.  Yesterday, Adam called me while I was at work and asked if I could pick the kids up from daycare because he was cleaning the house. Although irritated, I agreed to pick the kids up. My anxiety kicked in when I realized that it was nearing trash pick-up day and my things were scattered through the house and he was “cleaning” which often means throwing things away that are in the way.  When I finally arrived home with children in tow around 6 PM, I was pleasantly surprised to find dinner almost ready, a fire going in the fireplace, the entire house organized, the dishwasher running, and the trash can; not overflowing with my things! It was then that I realized that we are indeed, soul mates. We are the perfect team. And we will forever be extremely compatible…I’m excellent at making messes, and he is excellent at cleaning them up!

25 Miles out of the way

Typically, driving 25 miles out of the way would cause severe irritation, frustration, and an incredible urge to skip breakfast and stop at McDonalds to fulfill my calorie intake for the day, but today was different. After our recent move that I’ve mentioned in previous posts, it was decided that my husband would now be Mr. Mom and take the kids to, and pick up from daycare because it was much nearer where he works than where I am currently working. I was more than elated! Finally, Adam was going to understand what I go through every morning…the rush of getting two kids around and still trying to make it to work on time. At first, it was amazing to wake up and only get myself ready. I wasn’t sure what to do with all of my spare time…so I slept in of course! It was great. I woke up refreshed, the house was quiet, I had time to make coffee and take a long, hot shower. I had NO responsibilities!

For a few days I was able to fulfill my “motherly instinct” by packing the kid’s clothes for the next day in a “to-go-to-daycare” bag, and preparing a snack box full of fruit, granola bars (Koala bears as Ben calls them), and juice for the car ride to daycare…but then when the snack box was coming home full I realized that the kids didn’t really need that, so I stopped. After a week, I missed my kids and packing their clothes ever night was not quite enough “mom” time for me. I was getting home from work around 5:30 pm, rushing to make dinner, then putting the kids to bed shortly after. It was weird, I wasn’t aware that I would ever miss someone that lived in the same house as me and I’m starting to become a little nervous about how I will handle the time when my kids go off to college or move out of the house.  I decided last night that although it would be much easier for my husband to take the kids to daycare, I needed to be involved too. I would drive the extra 25 miles in the opposite direction if that meant that I was the one that could wake them up, prepare an actual breakfast, and give them their “goodbye, I love you” hugs at daycare. So this is what I did today, it may not be able to happen every day, but as much as I complained about having to do EVERYTHING in the mornings, I missed it when I wasn’t able to do ANYTHING. So, my solution to missing my kids?  Spend an extra hour with them in the mornings. Although there may not be much dialogue in the mornings with my grumpy Benji and my less than verbal Presley, I didn’t realize how much I missed that time until I didn’t have it anymore. I’m so thankful that I’m able to have the option to spend more time with my kids, even if it is only an extra hour…I realize that not all parents have that luxury. So, today was perfect. I was more focused at work as I wasn’t sitting daydreaming about my children all day, and I feel better about seeing them tonight as I won’t have to smother them with constant hugs and kisses for an hour because I missed them all day! Today, I am so thankful for my extra 25 miles out of the way!