Road Trip...

My husband had a business trip planned, and the kids had a long weekend from school, so I decided to pack up the chuckleheads and visit my parents.

500 miles, one mom, and three preschoolers, in the new minivan. Watch out...crazy times ahead....

Packed up 4 days of clothes, a few favorite toys, some snacks,the required blankets and the "what ifs".  You know, what if we need the nebulizer, the prescription cough meds, the under-the-arm thermometer, etc.  I mean I'll be honest, my kids are sick, a lot. It's best to always be prepared.

So, we are packed and the plan is to get on the road early so we still have some of the day to play when we arrive.
The kids were excited. Up at 530 excited.  My husband loaded the suitcases, everyone peed, I had coffee in hand, and we were on the road by 6:27. The Adventure begins! 

Alvin and the Chipmunks were chirping loudly from the DVD, three hand held games were beeping in the backseats, and I was unsuccessfully trying to find a good satelite radio station. I gave up and settled on a top 40 local station and heard Kesha and Maroon 5 each three times in the first 37 minutes.  Which is the first time I had to stop. Because someone dropped his game and a meltdown followed until I could pull over and retrieve it. Might as well pass out some snacks while we were stopped.

The trip is a jump on I-95, a few skips on I-10 and then a long cruise on I-75.  I stopped for gas and breakfast and bathroom breaks just as we hit 75.  So far so good.

If you have not had the joy of travelling north through Georgia on I-75, let me break it down for you, close your eyes and picture it. Well, it will be tough to read if you close them both, so close one and use your imagination:

Adult Toy store, cotton field, strip club (with trucker parking!), cotton field, adult store, "spa" (with trucker parking!), cotton field, strip club (we bare all!!), strip club, adult super store, spa, cotton field, Atlanta.  That's pretty much it. 

Music is limited..country station, country station, Christian station, country station, top 40.  Don't worry, as you near Atlanta you can add a lot of rap to the mix.

Just after a cotton field and sign for peanuts and pecans, but just before Atlanta, we stopped again.  I did not want to have to stop in Atlanta, or get stuck in traffic with a little one that needed to peeeeeeeee.

Here is how you travel through Atlanta.
You get in the HOV lane (when you have three kids your vehicle is always high occupancy so it should never be an issue) and you just GO.  Seriously..ignore the beltways and the bypasses. Stay away from exits and intersections leading to other interstates and highways. Get in the HOV lane and go. Don't look left or right, and by no means exit the interstate.

I was in my stride...the travel endorphins were about to peak...I was nodding my head to T-Pain or T.I. or Ice Somebody. And then I heard it from the way-back...."Mom, I have to poop". 

Nooooooooo...we were in the stride. We were in the HOV lane.  I started to feel panicky.  This was not good.  I was going to have to find an exit in downtown Atlanta...I was going to have to leave the HOV lane and possibly get lost trying to find a Starbucks so I could get coffee while my kid pooped and I'd be stuck in downtown Atlanta forever...or until I found a kind police officer to escort us back to the interstate..

"I don't need to poop anymore, I just needed to fart". Thank the Lord, crisis averted.  And this is why I put the boys in the way back. They can just smell each other's stink and hopefully I can be spared once in a while.

So we made it through Atlanta, and through Georgia, and soon were at my parents house in the mountains of Tennessee. 

We had a lovely visit, though as predicted, one of the chuckles did get sick.

The drive home was similar...same music, same strip clubs (with trucker parking!), same cotton fields..there was only one major difference.  Just south of Atlanta, all of the kids were sleeping. Never wake sleeping children, right? Well, I had to peeeeeeeee.  So I exited by an adult super store, found a semi abondoned Waffle House that backed up to a cotton field, and copped a squat. The kids kept right on sleeping. I waved at a few truckers on the way back to the interstate.  As my friends who are moms said, "you do whatcha gotta do".  Especially if you are on a road trip with three kids.

Birthday

Today we celebrate my twins' fifth birthday. It is full of conflicting emotions. The day they were born came after months of uncertainty and anxiety, laying in a hospital bed feeling like I was losing a battle at keeping them safe, keeping them alive.

The day they were born came more than 10 weeks early. It is hard to celebrate your babies coming into the world at 2 lbs 11 oz and 2 lbs 13 oz. Hard to celebrate the tubes and ventilators and monitors. Hard to celebrate the fact they know only pain and struggle.

But five years later, today, I can celebrate how far we have come. I can celebrate their struggle because it ended in triumph. I can celebrate the funny, sweet, smart and strong little boys they have become. I can celebrate because they are here, and they are amazing. Happy Birthday to my boys!

Touché

I thought I would be that cool mom. You know, the kind that my kids and their friends loved. The kind they asked
for advice and hung out with. I never wanted my kids to be embarrassed of me. After all, don't they know what a cool mom I am? Won't they be proud to say , "This is my mom!"

Apparently NOT. Because at the ages of four, four and three, each have put me in my place. Unless they are hungry, sick or sad, I will be merely tolerated at best.

The twins started 4k a few weeks ago. I
was a little choked up but determined to stay up-beat in case one of the boys
became upset. My worry was a waste of time. After walking twin A to his seat, he immediately struck up a
conversation with his teacher's aide
and his neighbor. I sorted his snack and pencil box into his cubby and leaned down to kiss the top of his head.
"What are you still doing here?". He
said.

Well then. Guess I'm dismissed.

I continued on to B's class. B is
a mama's boy so I was certain I would need a little extra time with him anyway.

We said hello to his teacher and got him situated.
"Your snack's in your back pack
Babe, and a juice box too". I
told him.

"OK, get out".

I shit you not, he told me to get out.

Wait, what??? Hmmmph

Better than crying and begging though right? Right?

That weekend I took my three year old
spoiled little adorable princess of a daughter to see The Fresh Beat Band Live in Concert. We were so excited for a girl's night.

After a few minutes of the first song,
she was up and dancing with a small group of girls in our section. As the song finished they all jumped around and cheered. Their enthusiasm was
contagious. I clapped my hands high in the air and yelled some nonsense like "Yaaaaaay". She stopped dancing, marched over to me and said, through her teeth, "Mama, put your hands down". Then she rolled her eyes at
me and walked away.

Ummmmm, you're three.

When a particularly catchy song was being performed I stood up next to her and was twisting and bopping my head. I'm tellin ya, those Fresh Beats are pretty good. Again, I got the three year old stink eye and a "MOM, stop dancing".

Stop dancing? But these moves are CLASSIC I tell ya. The others moms just wished they could Kid n Play and MC Hammer like me. But alas, I was embarrassing my youngest offspring.

I can't even imagine the teen years......sigh.

Dear Teachers...

Dear future teachers of my children....

If you could just indulge me, I have a few things to review.

#1. I am sure you are tired of parents telling you how special their kids are. How they deserve special considerations. How they are the exceptions to the rules. Blah, blah, blah. I agree with you. Those parents are wrong.  I, however, think you should know that my children truly are special exceptions and do deserve special considerations. At all times.

#2. The whole teacher's pet thing really bothers me. It is unfair and can mess up the dynamic in your classroom.  Favoring one student above the others, regardless of how cute or smart that student may be, is just wrong. Unless of course my child is your pet. In that case you are a genius with excellent taste and are doing a great job boosting the ego of your student.  If you are temporarily confused or led astray by someone else's kid, just know that the kid and his mom are just suck-ups.  It will hurt when their true natures are revealed.  If I haven't transferred my child out of your class at this point, then I am sure you will come around and see the error of your ways and reallocate your adoration as is appropriate. To my child.

#3.  Let's talk homework.  How beneficial is it really? I mean you have many many hours in the day in which my children are under your tutelage. Can't you get your job done then? Must you send it home for me? Because let's be honest...any homework you send home for the next few years is really for parents.  My kids still need help wiping their asses some times, so they are not going to be spelling all of their colors or locating all the states on a map without parental assistance.  Can you at least make it interesting for us as well? Throw in some double entendres we can giggle about sophomorically,  and references to 70s and  80s music.  We could totally rock geography with Boston, Kansas, Chicago,  even John Denver. And if you really want to be modern, Flo'rida. Two birds with one stone here...we could also teach the kids to whistle.

4)  School Uniforms.  Enough said. I love them. I'm not even kidding.  They should be worn all the way through graduation.  Really push this at administrative meetings.  This is for your own good as well as that of parents.  It's cheaper and eliminates a lot of stress and competition over fashion.  The kids who complain about it dampening their freedom of expression and individuality are right. Because they are the same kids who wear really stupid shit.  And they need a uniform more than anyone.

5)  Discipline.  It's important in a classroom for sure.  Kids need to understand there are consequences if they misbehave outside of the home as well.  But just so you know, I do such a great job with mine, and they are so superbly well-behaved, that you should really save your breath for the other kids in the class. You know, the troublemakers.  If my kid hits someone, there is no doubt he was provoked.  If he bites, the kid deserved it. If he says a naughty word, he heard it from his dad. It's not his fault. Period

Now that we've covered the first five issues of my sure to be on-going list, we can start the school year.  Hopefully everything will run smoothly and you and I will get along beautifully. After all, we both agree on one major thing. My kids are the greatest, and should be treated as such.

Thanks for your time and consideration in these matters. Please feel free to contact me at any time with praise and accolades regarding my child. 

Sincerely, Jennifer  (NGM)

Olympic Memories

The Olympics start tonight. With all the hype leading up to them, I have had a warm feeling of nostalgia. I haven't really been able to explore the feeling, it was more in the back of my mind...like fleeting deja vue.  I mean, the Olympics are awesome.  Everyone loves to watch them and cheer on our athletes. But this felt like more..and it felt more personal.

Last night I had a rare dance with insomnia.  During this time, I realized why the Summer Olympics make me feel a happy longing and a nostalgic buzz.

Four years ago I had two 10 month olds. Being preemies, they were still tiny and still ate frequently. They also still woke up twice a night to take a bottle.  So four years ago, I would huddle on the couch with two warm bottles and two warm babies, with the gymnastics and swimming competitions on mute in the middle of the night. I would nuzzle two little fuzzy heads and sniff sleepy baby smell times two while watching a medal ceremony live at 2 in the morning. 

That's what the Summer Olympics will be to me. Not just something that can bring the country together, but memories of my babies..who are growing, growing, gone. Replaced by little boys. 

Sugar and Spice and nothing nice

Girls can be mean, nasty little things. I am not sure exactly what age it starts. I don't remember. But I do know by High School it is full blown in your face bitchiness. Girls are jealous, competitive, vindictive brats. Most of the sugar and spice has disappeared, replaced with catty remarks and insults towards other girls.  This doesn't mean true best friends don't exist as a teenager, it just means that motives are questionable. Even the girls who "have your back" can mislead you.
  There was an acquaintance freshman year who had long, thick blond hair.  All of the boys in school noticed and commented on it.  One day during gym class she told me she was thinking of cutting it.  I encouraged her, and told her it would "show-off her pretty face better". Petty, right?  But really a minor indiscretion in the world of HS girls.  (She didn't cut, it by the way.) Smart bitch.

Boys were the major point of contention.  They could make girls tear each other apart. Turn on each other. Ruin each other's lives. So sad to look back  on. Very few of those teen-age boys were probably worth it.  And at the same time, those teen-age boys sometimes made much better friends than a lot of girls. Boys are not petty, jealous or vindictive. They are not nearly as calculating or dramatic.  They get pissed, they get over it. They don't wage verbal assualts and nasty lunchroom wars that can span over 4 (or more) years.

 We moved to a new state late in my High School career.  I was devastated, because life was pretty good and I didn't want to leave. And I certainly didn't want to start over.  But I had no choice, so I put on a brave face.  I made my first close friend soon after we moved in. He lived a few houses down the street, and offered me a ride to school. He and I stayed close friends the remainder of high school, much to the chagrin of his on again/off again girlfriend. 

A few girls reached out to me, offering hellos or directions to classrooms. But mostly it was the boys who were helpful, nice, accomodating. And this was my downfall.  I was unknowingly making enemies...girls who were dating, had dated or wanted to date these guys who were driving me to school, walking me to class, calling me in the evenings.  I was naive, and I shouldn't have been. Most of these kids had gone to school together since kindergarten, and I was an outsider. It wasn't long before my house was toilet papered on a regular basis. Plastic Forks decorted my yard. "Bitch" scrawled in shaving cream on my car. And all the while, I just wanted to make friends. Sure, I was still on the homecoming court, still made cheerleading at the new school, but every victory also brought me another round of vengeance for the perceived wrongs I had done these girls. By moving there, by flirting, by trying to fit in.  I had a few girl friends, but they came and went with the everchanging wind of anger at the school. Or they had boyfriends of their own that consumed most of their social lives.  Pretty soon I knew I just had to ride it out..graduate and get the hell outta Dodge.

College was much better, although it was still the norm to watch young women tear each other apart if they got the chance. True friends seemed more true as maturity prevailed. I made friends there I still love today.  But there was always an underlying current of competitiveness.  Whose grades were better, who got engaged first, etc.  Some women could use this competitiveness to motivate them, while others let it consume them.

Unfortunately, adult women in the work place are not immune from the cattiness and drama we indulged in while teens.  Before I had kids, when I had a "carreer", I would witness women tear each other apart in the workplace, usually back handedly and in a duplicitous manner.  But there were women who were good and true friends. Women who supported each other and cheered each other and revelled in each other's successes.  But if there was drama and pettiness going on, you could almost always contribute it to a group of women clucking like hens.

Moms are a different story. I think there may still be underlying competitiveness. Still criticising and complaining behind one another's backs (mostly to one's husband), but that is human nature. I think in a group of moms, you can find more support and empathy than any other group of women around. Because being a mom is hard, yo. And we all want what is best for our kids. Maybe we can unite in the fact that we all want what is best for our babies, rather than fight over "that cute boy" or "that promotion".  Maybe loving someone else so whole heartedly more than we love ourselves let's us put the cattiness and competitiveness aside.  Well most of it at least.  I still think people with long gorgeous hair should cut it off, because it is just too distracting. And if you look better than I do in yoga pants, you should stop wearing them and buy mom jeans. And if your house is spotless, you must be ignoring your kids..and so on, and so on.

My daughter is a girly girl, and I love it.

During a week long family reunion, we all wrote our names on plastic cups with sharpies to avoid mixing up our drinks. I asked my daughter if she wanted "Sophia"  (her name) or "Sophie" (what we call her) on her cup. 

"PRINCESS Sophia" was her response.

"Oh, of course", I acknowledged and wrote it on her cup as requested.  Her red (solo) cup, because there were no PINK cups as she really wanted, but red was the closest to pink.

Out of 10 pajama choices she has every night, we are relegated to three. The nightgowns that "spin" are the only acceptable choices right now.  The frillier the better.  Ruffles and lace. Sugar and spice.

She loves to play with my makeup. She begs me to paint her nails. She admires my jewelery. She stands in my closet looking at shoes and pointing out her favorite pairs, saying in a valley girl voice."Oh Mah Gawsh, those are beeyootiful".

She wants to grow her hair as long as Rapunzel's.  She likes Barbie, and Hello Kitty and Disney Princesses.

She is a girly girl.  And I love it.  I stuck bows to her head before she even had hair. I had our pediatrician pierce her ears just after her 1st birthday, and she has donned little pearls ever since. I love shopping for girly clothes. Even her tennis shoes sparkle and light up.



She totally embraces her femininity. She LOVES being a girl. And I encourage it every opportunity I can.

I tell her she is adorable, cute, beautiful all the time. I also tell her she is smart and sweet. And she is all of the afore mentioned. She is so smart and well spoken. She is a sweet cuddler. And she is totally adorable.

Some people are offended by marketing that targets a specific gender.  Others oppose anything that plays into gender stereotypes.  This blows my mind.  What is so wrong with a little girl being girly?  Especially since she enjoys it and gravitates to it.

If she wants to play softball or soccer, I will certainly let her and encourage her and cheer her on whole-heartedly, but if she dreams of being a ballerina I will support that enthusiastically, tu-tu and all.  If she wants to be a fairy princess for every Halloween the next five years, wonderful.  If she wants to be zombie, too bad.

She is a tough little girl, who can wrestle her brothers and kick a ball across the yard. She is messy and sloppy.  She doesn't mind dirt, and will seek out a mud puddle to jump in.  She'll just have a big bow in her hair while she does it all.