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What Makes It a Holiday

July 4th 2009 02:17
Tomorrow is the 4th of July and like many families in the United States, my family will be celebrating by having a cook out, going to a parade and ending the day by watching a fireworks display. Since it is the 4th, there are some things that just have to be part of the day, according to my children.

There must be pancakes for breakfast. I don't know when this started. But for some reason known only to the children in our family, there must be pancakes for holiday breakfast. If for some reason we have spent the night at Grandmama's house, the pancakes must be chocolate chip.


There will be hamburgers, hot dogs and baked beans cooked on the grill. If possible there will be corn on the cob with real butter. For dessert there will be ice cream that they churn themselves.

Before the parade, they will set off those little pellets that send out a "snake" of ash. At the parade, they will collect candy that is tossed from the floats in the parade. And later, after the public fireworks, our family will set off a few fireworks of our own. No one will go to bed before midnight.

I tell you all of that to tell you this.

I am a reformed Martha Stewart wannabe. I used to spend every holiday fretting over just the right decor and just the right menu to make the day special for everyone. At Christmas, I would hand dip dozens of chocolate covered cherries and decorate armies of little gingerbread men. I spent so much time running around trying to make the day perfect for my children that I missed the fun of having a day with my children.

A few years ago, I actually listened to what my children remembered about holidays after the day was over. And I was surprised by what I discovered.


The truth was that what they remembered and cherished about the day was not things like special little plates on the table but, who was sitting around the table with them. They talked for days about the silly game they played with my brothers and their children. When they looked forward to the day they asked, "Can we do that again next year Mom?"

Children don't get all caught up in making the day "special". They are still young enough to realize that everyday is special, especially when you get to spend it with the people who matter most to you.

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Living Through Our Children

July 3rd 2009 02:07
There is a strange competition that goes on among some mothers. A kind of maternal bragging contest where they feel compelled to prove that their little blue eyed darling is the brightest, most clever child in the world. Now, everyone believes that their child is superior to all other children but the lengths to which these women will go are really unbelievable.

I have a friend who is one of these mothers. If I mention Frick did well at her swim meet, she is quick to tell me that her little Ichabod is such a good swimmer that Michael Phelps himself offered to give him private lessons. When I mentioned that Gertrude read at 3, she countered with the information that Ichabod was able to read Goethe in the original German at 24 months. No matter what accomplishment is mentioned, her child has done it. Not only has Ichabod done it, he did it at an earlier age.

It's sad really. These are the same parents who sit in the stands screaming at their child when they miss catching a flyball in the outfield or make an error playing football. They somehow get a boost to their own ego through their child's achievements. Stage parents of the worse kind is what they really are and it is especially sad for the child. Because they realize at an early age that somehow they must be stars or mommy won't be happy. So they spend their childhood trying to make mommy happy by being the best on the team or in the class.

Its a big responsibility for a child, being responsible for their parent's sense of well being. When really it is supposed to be the other way around. Really if these moms, or any mom were asked straight out they would tell you that all they really want is for their child to be happy.

That's what I want for my girls, and niece and nephew anyway.



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There was an Old Woman...

July 1st 2009 01:00
Do you know the old woman who lived in a shoe? The one who whipped her children soundly and sent them to bed after a dinner of broth and no bread? Some days, that is exactly the way that I feel.

I've been writing this blog for a few weeks and I think I should introduce everyone in my little band of hostages to fate.

First is Tallulah, my 16 year old daughter. She likes playing the flute, dancing and her cell phone. I call her Tallulah because she has a flair for the dramatic and reminds me of the actress Tallulah Bankhead. She's a good girl but she is every bit a teenager. Read into that what you will.

Next is Gertrude, who is 13. She is artsy, wants to be a cartoonist and is my main competition for the computer. She spends gobs of time on youtube.

Once in a while you will hear me refer to Frick and Frack. These are my sister's children who are 5 and 7. Frick is a little boy with a big brain. Sometimes we call him Monk, after the series on USA network. Frack is also known to me as "Crazy monkey girl" she is silly and giggly as a 5 year old should be.

My sister, who is uber working mom has an infant daughter, Bella. She is a sweet and adorable 9 month old.

I use my sister's adventures as inspiration. She works outside the home, which presents different challenges. I worked for nine months after Tallulah was born and have been able to stay at home since.

There is also my mother, the Grandmama, who is best friend and wise counselor to us both.

Between us we have five children, two cats, five dogs and not enough time in a day.

And yes, we are both married, but Clueless Dad is another day's post.





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Junkfood Junkie

June 25th 2009 16:01
Before my daughter was born, I worried about eating properly to provide her with adequate nutrition. I hadn't eaten a healthy diet since I left my parents' home and moved into my own place. Fresh fruit and vegetables, lean broiled meats and plenty of milk became my mainstays. I tried, really tried, to limit my coffee intake, which for me meant stepping down from a pot or so a day to one cup in the morning. (I still drank tea of course. Tea has anti oxidants and is good for you!)

When she was born, I continued my healthy diet to ensure that she had enough nutrients to grow strong and develop a healthy body and mind. I offered solid foods one at a time, as the doctor directed. Giving her rice cereal, then carrots, slowly building up to green veggies and finally, meats. She was a rosy, well nourished picture of infant health


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A Word About Fathers

June 23rd 2009 04:08
I know that Father's Day was yesterday but better late than never. I wanted to say a word about dads. Sometimes it seems that dads are not appreciated. On television they are often portrayed as well meaning buffoons who haven't a clue about their children. Television dads used to be the all knowing patriarchs, always available to guide their children and dole out discipline with a firm but fair hand. Lately, dads on television have become boorish slobs, more interested in drink than how their children are getting along.

The reality is somewhere between the two extremes. Real dads are involved with their children. They know how to soothe a crying infant and can deal with a cranky toddler. They've taken their children to day care and to the pediatrician. Real dads coach soccer and lead boy scout troops. They carry order forms for band fundraisers to work with them and help deliver dozens of boxes of girl scout cookies


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Play It Again, Mom

June 17th 2009 19:50
We've read "Goodnight Moon" so many times in our house I find myself reciting at odd times. We were on a jag of watching "The Little Mermaid" but I am happy to say that Ariel has been replaced by Belle and "Beauty and The Beast". I'm sure I'm not the only mom who finds herself having to read the same books, watch the same DVD, follow the same ritual of dinner, bath, story and bed EVERYDAY. With no deviation allowed. PERIOD.

Because deviation would set off a chorus of wails that frankly, I don't want to have to endure. The little tyrant umm, darling must have her rituals


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Not Me and I Don't Know

June 15th 2009 15:19
I have two extra children in my house, but they don't count as tax deductions. Both are very quiet, I hardly know they are there until I discover that the milk has been left out. Then, when I ask who forgot to put away the milk, the response is always the same. "Not me." and "I don't know". These twin trouble makers (try saying that fast!) create more havoc than an army of monkeys. And they do it without ever being seen.

I call them twins but really, "Not me" is a bit older. "Not me" started living with us when my oldest daughter was 3. One day, someone had colored a lovely picture of a kitty cat on the wall in the bedroom. When I asked who drew the picture she responded, "Not me, mommy


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Anatomy of a Tantrum

June 13th 2009 02:59
We've all seen it. An adorable, rosy cheeked toddler dissolved into a mound of quivering, screaming flesh while an embarrassed parent stands by watching helplessly. Meanwhile, every other adult in the vicinity watches as the parent tries in vain to stop the howling of the offended child. If the parent tries to pick up the child to remove them bodily, the child will either:
1. go completely rigid, making moving them difficult, or
2. go completely limp, making moving them difficult, or


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What is a Reality Mom?

June 11th 2009 16:20
I love the phrase "Reality Mom". Like "Reality TV", the phrase implies that we are going to be witness to LIFE in black and white, no shades of gray to hide the ugly truth. Yea right. Does anyone REALLY believe that those people on the television aren't aware of the camera EVERY SINGLE MINUTE? Sure. And those same folks are not being coached by some network toady off camera encouraging them to pander to the desire of the public to feed off of the drama and misfortune of others.

That's not what a Reality Mom is anyway. At least not to my understanding


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It's Not Easy Being Mean

June 9th 2009 22:06
It hurts when a teary eyed toddler turns from you and declares that you are a "mean" mommy. Thankfully, I already have a savings account opened in her name so she can pay for therapy when she's old enough. She's going to need it to get over the damage that her "mean" mommy is doing.

Being a mean parent is a God given right responsibility. Without mean parents our world would be full of self indulgent, rude people who haven't a clue how to behave or care for themselves


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