Just one of those days!!

Yep - it was one of those days. You mom's know the type of day I'm talking about...the long ones, that don't end! I'm reminded of the mom who came up with a t-shirt that has a picture of her daughter in a full on meltdown. The phrase said "Got kids? Want mine?" I don't know that mom, but I feel a kinship with her right now...

The day started off just fine with our jaunt to high tea. You can read about that in my last post.

Then shortly after we got home, it just took a wrong turn!

Usually my two are buddies - no, I'm not just saying that. Typically they like to play together in the absence of other children. (If only I could find a way to keep spare children around my house - j/k). Since both hubby and I have ADHD, it should come as no surprise that both of our kids have it too! That's the beauty of ADHD though, you tend to forget things, sometimes important things, like that YOU have it. Well, we double dosed them in the DNA department. In hindsight, maybe not our best idea, but we wouldn't trade them for the world. Okay - some days....

Anyway, my oldest is active or exuberant as we like to say. He loved attention when he was younger - he especially loved a good audience. My youngest, like most babies, loved to be entertained. They were a match made in heaven - He could spin in circles and jump and make funny faces, and she would laugh and laugh. It's no wonder that she adores him to this day. However, despite another 4 years of growth, she still expects him (subconciously) to entertain her. If he isn't willing to oblige (sometimes he just wants a few minutes to himself - and don't we ALL know that feeling?) she takes matters into her own hands - sometimes its her feet too. She's mostly past the biting phase now.

I have a few weapons in my mom arsenal for really tough days like these. I hoard them like Weight Watchers chocolate ice cream bars until a desperate moment presents itself. Around 2 pm, just such a moment occurred.

They tried playing together - but she wanted to play princess, and he wanted play wizard. He offered to be her "wizard bodyguard" but she insisted that she did not NEED protection. Insert escalating moment here. He insisted that she did and she reluctantly agreed on the condition that she could order him around. I have to insert one extra factoid - she has a best friend - whom we'll call Hally (b/c I haven't asked Hally's parents if I can add her real name to this blog).

The game went like this:
M "You have to go look for bad guys!"
J "Okay" (shrugs his shoulders the way guys do like you just told him he had to play video games) - he dramatically takes up his search stance then declares "OH NO MACKENZIE!"
she interrupts "That's Princess Mackenzie"
he ignores her and continues on. "Look there's Kyle (another friend whose name I have changed)!"
M "GET HIM!!!"
J "STUPIFY! STUPIFY! STUPIFY!"
M "YESSSSSSS! You got him!"
J "Hey, you should thank me for protecting you"
she ignores him
J "OH NO! THERE'S HALLY! SPECIFICUS TOTALIS!"
M "JAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK! NO! NOT HALLY! YOU - ARE - PLAY-ING - THIS WRONG!!!" growls for emphasis - because, you know, Princesses growl, right?

And right at the moment - they left Friendship Island and turned into the Bickerson's, party of 2. Seeing that I needed to intervene, I went to my mom weapons depot, loaded up two pop up tunnels, and 26 one foot square alphabet foam blocks. I told them I thought they could make an obstacle course. They were very excited for the first few minutes when they had the same ideas. But then she wanted to put the letter 'Z' back in the foam outline, and he declared it was his....and they were off to the races again. Sigh...

I tried every trick I know to manage these two today - cooperation, reframing, using I statements, rationalization, democracy, problem solving.... - but each time, they were back at it again.

I finally gave up, and turned on TV. I can only handle so much bickering and intervening - and 90 minutes is apparently my max. I was done - but she was not. And then he started too.

Now I don't about your kids, but the models I own don't have the volume control upgrade. More than once I have searched their person for a volume control nob, and I'm telling you - these two just do not have one! I was hoping to at least get "Store Mode" installed by the age of 7, but so far the programming still needs tweaking. Neither of them seems to have easy access to "Sleep Mode" either, and the little one apparently came pre-programmed with a lengthy list of what I call "Bullshit reasons I can't go to bed". Don't worry - I only call them that to my husband (and now you). I prefer to just teach them the four letter words - not the seven letter ones. The little one also came with bite, kick, pinch and scratch mode which my oldest one does not have - or at least refuses to access despite parental encouragement to "hit her back". SO, I was particularly startled to find that they both have GPS and had apparently found the short cut to my LAST NERVE! I was just about to full on lose it myself - I think that t-shirt would be a picture of me having my own meltdown, and it would read "Got Parents? Want mine?".

Then blissfully, like a knight in shining armor, in walked my husband from work - and out walked I - right out the front door, to my car, and off to go get a massage. Don't worry, I kissed hubby before I left.

Amazingly, he was able to rally the two of them before I got home. I was very impressed at his ability to get the Bickerson's back to Friendship Island. Then he asked them to clean up the foam blocks - and they started in again. It was a little validating...okay, really validating...that it wasn't just with me. It was just one of those days..

Tomorrow is another day - and I see a long trip to the park in store so I can get them both to "Too tired to argue" mode. :)

Mackenzie's Rules for High Tea

Every Thursday, my darling mother-in-law (henceforth referred to as M.O.M - my other mom) watches my kids for me. The three of them usually have grand adventures such as trips to the park, the pool or a picnic. During the summers it gives me an entire day off - all to myself. The truest form of luxury when you are a mother is an entire day to yourself.

This summer, I've been spending my Thursdays having High Tea at the local Tea shop with my girlfriend, Jessica - it's a truly Divine tea shop, and she is a wonderful friend. This Thursday was to be no different - except that M.O.M. was not available to watch the kids. Only hubby neglected to tell me this until after I had made plans with my friend - and at 11 pm the night before. SO, as is the custom with motherhood, plans changed. I took them with me to tea. Don't worry, I texted my girlfriend first so there were no surprises.

Now, I should explain that my girlfriend is about to give birth any day - so her tolerance for mischievous children is on the high side at the moment. I should further explain that our favorite tea place, isn't terribly formal. Also, we know the lovely wait staff and owner...so perhaps we are given a little extra leeway which made me feel a little more comfortable bringing them to tea. And thankfully, they have a Children's tea on the menu.

I texted my friend that we were on our way once my kids were buckled in their seats. Getting my kids up, dressed, through the morning routine and into the car is kind of like herding cats - it's best to talk about it after the task is complete. Off we went for the short drive over and like any mother, I used those few moments to remind my children of my behavior expectations and good manners.

We went over saying please and thank you, using inside voices, staying in our seats, keeping our napkins in our lap and our elbows off the table at which point my oldest interrupts
"Except if you are eating a sandwich, right mom?"
I reply in the affirmative.
After what I felt was a thorough review of appropriate behavior for tea, I say "Okay, what are the rules for tea?"
Mackenzie (age 4) says very matter-of-factly "We are not supposed to burp or toot!"
Jack (age 7) "WHAT?!! I'm not going to tea!"
Me "Don't start! Don't even think about starting, Jack"
Mackenzie "I'm not supposed to show my underwear either, am I, mommy?"
Me (stifling a big giggle) "No, honey. You aren't supposed to show your underwear at tea"

So, if ever you need to review the rules for high tea, remember that you aren't supposed to burp or toot and you shouldn't show your underwear. Just in case you weren't clear about that.

Mother of the Year Part 2 - teaching my kids more four letter words

As I've said in previous posts, it's always my greatest joke when I refer to myself as Mother of Year (MoY) - mostly because I am sooooooo very far from it. When I screw up really big as a parent, I usually throw my fists up in the air and say "Yesss! Mother of the Year". The following story was hands down, one of my best MoY moments. Try not to judge me...

When my youngest was born, amongst other issues, she came out with a pretty significant case of reflux. You could actually hear it when she was just a few days old. As any parent of a baby with reflux will tell you, it's very difficult to get through. She had a milk allergy and since most of the meds are dairy based, she could not tolerate them. Of the ones we did try, she screamed for 7-9 hours at a time. I was a lot less willing to try from then on.

Every night, like clock work, she cried and screamed from her reflux from 7-9 pm. I paced the floors singing, rocking, bouncing, you name it trying to calm her. It was a few months into it when we were finally introduced to the reflux wedge. Prior to this she slept on my husband, me or not at all. A reflux wedge, in case you've never seen it, is about 2 feet wide, 2 feet deep, and 2 feet tall - with a 45 degree angle cut to make the wedge. It has additional foam pieces to support the baby and straps - yes, Children's Hospital approved, straps - to strap the baby into at night. So, she would do her crying jag for 2 hours, after which time, I would gently place her into the wedge, strap my baby in, give her a kiss and then leave the room. Yeah, I know, it felt crazy to me at the time too. When you're desperate, you tend to be more willing to review alternative options though!

She wasn't much of sleeper as a result of all of this. She often woke up three times a night between feedings and reflux. She was known for giving back entire bottles - even with thickened liquids - so sometimes we got to do both in one very long night time session. We nicknamed "The Giver". My patients used to ask me if I missed seeing her during the day when I was at work. I would always chuckle and say "Nope. I see her all night long anyway".

Around this time, my anxious with an overactive imagination, then 4 year old was also waking up three times a night - but not the same times as her. He would usually come in with silly requests like 'I need water', 'My pillow is too itchy', 'I don't like my bed' - you get the picture. She would wake at 10, he would wake at 11, she would wake at midnight, he would come in at 1, she would wake at 2 and he would be back in at 3. By then they were all in bed with us because we were desperate for even 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep. This little cycle went on for months. Seriously, months! Now I am a pretty patient soul, especially with my own children, but after a while, our nightly routine and serious lack of sleep had started to wear thin.

One day, my 4 year old was working on a craft project at the kitchen table. He was a perfectionist from day 1, and if he didn't like his work - even the smallest part of it - he would throw the whole thing away. I know - a little dramatic, don't you think? As it happened, he was almost finished with his project when he made the dreaded mistake. In a truly grand gesture, he swept everything off the kitchen table where it crashed to the floor, hung his little head, sighed a full body sigh, and said "Damn it!" in a totally deflated yet irritated tone of voice.

Me "Um, excuse me, are you allowed to say that?"
Him hands on hips like a true Diva, head going from side to side to emphasize his point, said emphatically "I AM 4 YEARS OLD, AND I CAN SAY DAMN IT IF I WANT TO"
Me "Um, no, you can't"
Him "Oh yeah, well I'm going to go tell Daddy"
Me (trying really hard not to laugh, because I know that I am the low reactor in the family) "Go ahead"

Well, my little man marched out toward the door to the garage, flung it open, fully expecting paternal support, and said "Daddy! I SAID 'DAMN IT!' " flings an accusing finger in my direction "and Mommy..."

That was about the time my husband exploded - "GET UP TO YOUR ROOM! YOU DON'T TALK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT!"

It really scared the bejesus out of my son as he was not accustomed to being yelled at, and he ran to his room very upset. Hubby and I waited for him to clear the corner before we started laughing.

Hubby "Where did he get that from? We've been so careful not to say it"
Me "I know! It's probably some kid at daycare whose parents swear in front of them."

We tried to isolate the source of his new found vocabulary, but coming up with nothing, we felt confident blaming others.

A few nights later, there I was, trying desperately to get some sleep when the baby started crying. I got her settled, was just about to fall asleep when Jack came in and said "I need new socks". I told him to go back to bed. I had just started to drift off when the baby was crying again - this time for milk (okay Rice milk). I got her squared away, started to close me eyes, and there was poor Jack again "I need some chocolate milk". Me "No you don't, go back to sleep". No sooner did I start to fall back asleep, then the baby starts in again. I get her settled once more and it's now close to 1 am. I had just fallen asleep when I hear Jack in the doorway for the third time "I don't like my room". Then I hear myself sigh a full body sigh, and say "Damn it!" in a totally deflated yet irritated tone of voice. My husband starts cracking up laughing next to me!
Hubby "It was YOU!"
Me "Damn it! Why do I always have to be the one to teach them four letter words? Yep - that's me - Mother of the Year!!".

And while, I am still pretty careful not to swear in front my my kids during the day, more than once I have caught myself swearing in the middle of the night when my kids have woken me up!

The Ant Farm

When my oldest was 3 1/2 yrs old, he was, to put it mildly - terrified of bugs. He was the anxious sort, and no amount of reasoning would change his mind. One day, he came home from preschool to tell me that he had seen small black ants (they were Argentine ants - totally harmless). The next day he told me that he touched one, and he wasn't afraid. It was a proud moment for us both, and like any mom wanting to help their child get past a fear, I praised him for being so courageous. Insert Rookie Mom Mistake here.

My youngest was 6 months old at the time, and had medical issues which required a lot of our time and energy. I was also working outside the home full time, so there wasn't much time for relaxation or myself. To get through this time period, I had a nightly ritual of taking a nice hot bath - all by myself. I could clear my head, process my day, and just let my mind go blank.

Of course, having to adjust to a new baby in the house is always hard on their sibling. My oldest was smart though, and he figured out that he could get my undivided attention if he waited for me to get in to the tub. I felt guilty about working at the time, and even more guilty that he wasn't getting near the attention he had been, so I didn't make him go back to bed when he came to visit me. It ended up being a great time for he and I to catch up with each other and spend some time just the two of us. It also gave him the opportunity to share parts of his day that we otherwise did not hear about.

On one such occasion, not too long after he had touched the ant, he informed me that he had made an ant farm. I asked him to tell me more and he went on to explain that he and a few other kids had poured a little bit of water out for the ants to drink. Then they moved dirt around for them, and on and on he went with his story. Sometimes, when he would continue on, I would lose focus of what he was saying ten minutes into his monologue. Then he said this
Him "We collected the ants and made an ant farm".
Me "Mm-hmm." pause "Wait, in your classroom?"
Him "No. In a cup"
Me "Oh. Okay. Did you bring the cup in to your class and then fill up your ant farm?"
Him "No, we made the ant farm in the cup. The teacher said we had to leave the cups outside."
Me "Oh. So did you let them go at the end of the day?"
Him "No, they're still in the cup"
Me "Oh. Okay. At school?"
Him "No. I brought them home in Daddy's car"
Me (WHAT!?!?!?!?) "What do you mean, buddy?"
Him "I put the ants in the cup, then I gave them dirt so they could build a home."
Me (panic level rising) "Is the cup still in Daddy's car?"
Him "No"
Me (oh thank god!)
Him "It's downstairs" he tells me this proudly
Me "What do you mean it's downstairs?"
Him "I brought it in and put it in the kitchen."
Me "Honey, were there still ants in the cup?" (insert sinking feeling here)
He proudly tells me "Yeah, but don't worry. They can't escape. I put rocks on them to hold them down"
Me (oh no! oh no! oh no! oh no!) it's amazing how fast you can get out of a tub when you realize your 3 yr old brought ants into your house

Suffice it to say, the ants had all escaped by this time. Jack was crushed that his new buddies had gone away. I was crushed that my ant free house no longer existed.

The ants moved into my kitchen and set up a nice little home though. Every spring they come out to visit, and we get to remember the time that Jack brought home the ant farm.

The Mysterious Nest in my 4 year olds hair

Well, it has been quite a day around my house - quite a week or two really. You see, not too long ago, our dog, Abby, who is quite the mouser (as opposed to our faithfully departed, beloved cat Ariel who turned her nose up at the thought of even looking for a mouse) brought us a nice sized rat...from the back yard, through the dog door, past the kitchen, into the living room, and dropped it on our Christmas tree skirt. Seriously. I have a pic - but I think it's one you want to skip seeing. It's not gross looking but the idea of it just gives me the shivers! EWW!

Our kids are afraid of furry woodland critters such as these and since hubby and I enjoy sleeping free of kids who are having rodent nightmares, we took to referring to them as "Mickey Mouse" aka a field mouse and "Ratatouille" aka field rats. We have tried every manner of getting rid of these rodents, but they mostly just taunt us by moving the bait or removing the sticky traps all together to parts unknown. They had torn down a piece of insulation under the house and the dog was tearing up the carpet trying to get to it/them - and well, we had had enough. It was time for professional help.

Wait - let me back up - I live in the woods, where we have coyotes, rabbits, every manner of bird you can think of and lord knows what else. We are only talking about a few very destructive rodents - this was NOT an infestation. If we had been infested, the title of this blog entry would have been "We've Moved to Our New House!". I'm tolerant, but I have limits!

Okay, where was I? SO, the pro's came out, sprayed to get rid of all of our friendly stinging flying creatures and a few Hobo spiders, set traps in the crawl space and "bait stations" around the fence. A week later (this past Monday) they returned to "empty" the traps - but there were no rodents. The bait was eaten, but no rodents. I felt somewhat validated at that moment. We have never had a mole problem, but one popped up - ironically, UNDER the bait station. These are frontier critters - they don't go easily!

Two days later a swarm - and I am not exaggerating here - a swarm of carpenter ants came INTO our garage! We had also never had carpenter ants prior to eliciting the help of pest pros. We've had other ants, but that's another post. We had ourselves a little spray and stomp fest while ducking the flying ants at the same time. I'm sure we looked just about as close to crazy as possible in our garage stomping, ducking, running, etc.

Here's the Critter Count (like on Deadliest Catch) - in case your keeping track:
Mice eliminated = 0
Rats eliminated = 0
Moles moving in = 1+
Ants moving in = 100+

We called the company and out they came again. By now this poor gentleman had been in our crawl space three or four times. It was beginning to feel like a relationship I didn't really want. In order to get to our crawl space, you must first enter the secret closet under the stairs, remove all kids shoe's and coat's which they have piled on the floor of said closet, move the Thanksgiving dinner table leaf, and claw your way through the adult hanging coats in the dark, find the shiny gold handle somewhere on the floor, then pull. In other words, you gotta WANT to get down there or else you would give up long before this. As you can imagine, after 3-4 visits to the underworld, a mess begins to build. AND THIS - is how it all relates to the mysterious mass in my 4 year old's hair.

The last time my bug guy came to call, my kiddos were on their way to vacation with Grandma. Hubby was at work - and I was blissfully alone, with SILENCE! AHHH! That ended thanks to the doorbell ringing and my ferocious two dogs - okay, they aren't actually ferocious, they just think they are. Once the pest thing was taken care of, I was free to sit down, have a glass of wine, watch my favorite show, and relax in peace and quiet. But who are we kidding here - I'm a mom - I had the opportunity to clean without small people around making new messes where I had just cleaned up old messes! With the addition of the crawl space cribbles everywhere, I had to vacuum. HAD to!

And as I am vacuuming, I notice, under my TV cabinet, a small pile of brown fur. It wasn't moving, so I decided to take a closer look. Upon further inspection, it appeared to be brown hair - and this is weird b/c no one has brown hair in my family. I thought Barbie had succumbed to an ill fate or was perhaps sporting a new do depending on who had gotten to her - the dogs or the 4 yr old.

Fast forward to yesterday, when we arrived at the vacation spot, I was informed, that my 4 yr old's curly and tangly hair had balled up to new proportions. Grandma was thinking of cutting it, but I'm a pro and reassured her that I would take care of it. It was the little one's bed time though, and she was in no shape for a comb out. We agreed to tackle it this morning. Thankfully I did not look at said mass prior to bed. It would have haunted me for sure!

WELL - this was NOT her usual mass of tangles. This was 3 inches wide by about 4 inches long and a good 3/4" thick or so with no start or end point that I could see. It was somewhere between a rat's nest, a dread lock, and a small-woodland-creature-may-be-encased-in-there kind of problem. Maybe I should coin a new term - the rat lock.

An hour later, I was still making my way towards the bulk of the rat lock in my 4 yr old's hair. I started to notice that parts of her hair, around her hairline - especially around her face - were noticeably shorter than 48 hours ago. As I am making my way through the nest, I notice that other pieces seem to be at odd lengths as well. Then, 70% of the nest suddenly came out in my hand. The more I combed, the more came out! By this time I am covered in her hair, a wad of it is balled up next to me, and she is laying on the couch whining about how LONG it is taking me.

Apparently, while her hair was up in a pony tail, and a few wayward strands came loose from their band, she decided to take matters into her own hands or rather scissors - and CUT her hair. Only she cut her hair both at home (the ball of fur under the TV stand) and here on vacation. There's one big problem though - she's 4, and has the fine motor skills and accuracy of a 4 year old, so she appeared to have just kept hacking away at it until she was satisfied. Since her hair was up in a pony tail at the time of the trim, many of the now cut strands were secure in the rubber band yet mobile at both ends and free to wrap themselves up around the hair that was left creating the mysterious nest in my 4 yr old's hair!

90 minutes of tenuous combing later, and she looks - well, like a mess.

I haven't figured out how to fix her hair yet, but I do know to hide all of the scissors now.

Be Specific Part II (and other Rookie Mom Mistakes)

From time to time, my oldest’s teachers pull me aside to share stories. I truly cherish these stories, and as such, I share them with you.

My oldest, since discovering his hands, has always had a fidget - something small that could be carried around for the day. The fidgets were never the same from day to day - one day a quarter, the next day a paper clip, a small toy, etc. Fidgets have always been a part of our lives, so we don’t question it. When my eldest started Kindergarten, I pulled the teacher (whom I had already worked with professionally so had the benefit of the doubt) aside to let her in on the fidget issue. She was supportive to a point...as am I. Some fidgets just aren’t appropriate. Once my cherub found an office rubber band - which I only discovered as it sailed past my head. Fidgets had limitations after that. It was time to be more specific.

A few weeks of Kindergarten passed, and my oldest’s teacher pulled me aside one day after school. She held her hand out and whispered while laughing “I need you to start frisking your child before school”. I look down at her hand and to my horror, see a sharp plastic molly (the cone shaped little numbers that you use to hold screws into the wall). Even more horrific - it looked like it might have been chewed on (in lieu of gum). From then on, each morning started with a pat down from Daddy that went like this.

Dad “Okay, raise your arms (pats child along torso). Good, turn around (pats down each leg). Show me your pockets and hands (child dutifully obeys and pulls pocket linings out). Okay - do you have anything sharp or pointy on your body (later we learned to add ‘or in your backpack’ to this interrogation (be more specific) - but that’s another story)?” Child shakes their head ‘no’. Daddy pats our little kindie on the butt and says “Have a good day!”. I usually had to walk away in the middle of this routine to stop laughing. Honestly, what other parent goes through this as a part of their morning routine? Get dressed, brush teeth, eat breakfast, frisk child.

Fast forward to first grade. Another fantastic teacher (I should mention that I also work at my child’s school, so I know these teachers well) has graciously agreed to help push my cherub to expand the length of their writing in their journal. During Spring Conference Week, she updated me on the progress. She began with what they were working on in reading and math, and dutifully shows me my cherub’s work. Then she brings out the writing journal my cherub has been working on. Each blank journal page had a blank space for drawing picture and seven or so lines for writing beneath. This is where the story gets funny.

The teacher shows me the first month or so of writing - each page had three very short sentences written on it. The teacher explains that she encouraged my cherub to write more one day by saying “I want you to go back to your desk and fill up the page”. Like most seven year old's, my cherub takes most things literally. SO, when the teacher told my cherub to go back and “fill up the page” my cherub did exactly as they were told...and wrote zero’s...over and over again for four of the seven lines. The teacher cracked a sheepish smile, and I teasingly said “That’s what we call a Rookie Mistake at my house”. Now she knows to be more specific too!!!

My Creative Goals for 2010

Greener Pastures Lay Just Ahead

At the end of last year, I found myself in unfamiliar territory. I was in the middle of a life transition - having already been booted (against my will) from one shore and having no idea what the other shore was, let alone how to find it.

I should give a short-ish history here - in Feb. 2009, my family was involved in a car accident - we were rear ended on what they call Death Hwy. I was mostly concerned about my kids and husband at the time - not really paying attention to myself at all. My then three year old had a mild concussion, and my then 6 year old was complaining of neck and stomach pain. Being in the health care profession, I quickly checked them out and knew they were going to be okay.

We went our separate ways once all info was exchanged. As we drove the rest of the way home, only then did I realize how much pain I was in. 4 months later, most of my body had healed but my shoulder had not. I went for an MRI - where they numb your joint before injecting it with dye. We didn't know the extent of the damage then. During the last two tests, they placed my arm overhead and it dislocated. An ER visit later, a trip the orthopedic surgeon, and last July, I was in surgery having a rotator cuff repair, a capsular shift (ligament tightening) and a labral repair (sewing it back down to the bone). The unfortunate part of the dislocation (aside from the obvious) was that it caused nerve damage from my neck to my fingers. I had lost function, and much of the sensation in my hand. My surgeon told me it would be two years before we would know how much damage was permanent.

I was left in shock the day they delivered that news. Scared for what I did not and would not know for a very long time, and once again, amazed at how quickly your life can turn on a dime.

Prior to all of this, I was an avid seamstress, loved to quilt, and was always happy to teach another soul how to sew too. My friends were in awe of my ability to sew my own clothes and not have them look handmade. They always teased me b/c I would shrug my shoulders and say "It's mostly straight seams". Once the shoulder injury occurred, and especially since the surgery, I have been unable to sew. Sewing was my creative outlet, my joy, my peace, my salvation on really bad days. I honestly did not know what to do. And that's how I was booted from one shore, lost somewhere at sea, not really knowing if there was another shore to find.

Left with few choices, and a bum arm, I had to find a NEW creative outlet. I started getting back into paper crafting which led me to mixed media collage - which led me to Stampington, and all of their wonderful publications. Then one day, while visiting my favorite craft store, I saw Kelly Rae's book. I picked it up, and much to my surprise, it was what I had been looking for. With her guidance, I was able to paint and collage just as I had always dreamed of doing. Her book led me to her blog, and eventually to her e-course, which is how I met all of my wonderful Flyers. I seriously love you guys!

Once I found her blog, I also visited the Mondo Beyondo site - and though I haven't had the chance to take their course, I started my own list of big and small dreams I had for 2010. I was amazed, most recently, to realize that several of my wants were now realities:

1) Find a core group of women (my tribe) who were also crafters/artistic who would be supportive and cheer me on (with our site now reaching 730+, I think I can safely say that I have met this goal)
2) Start my creative biz for photography and jewelry (met)
3) Start a blog (met)
4) Participate in Craft/Art Shows (met)
5) Take a creative course - I wasn't specific on what I wanted - just that I wanted to learn more and increase my skills (met)
6) Sell my jewelry items in a boutique (owner met, offer made, just need to finalize)
7) Announce my creative biz on my personal FB page - I haven't done this one yet - but I'm thinking about it

I had other personal dreams, maternal dreams, and even marital dreams - but those are for me alone. Many of those prayers have been answered too!

I'm still not sure where the sea is taking me, what the other shore looks like, or how to find it, but I've already taken Flying Lessons and now I can take my dreams and soar to what will be rather than exhaust myself treading water in what was! That realization was a gift in itself!

Stay tuned for tomorrow - Be Specific Part II will be up. Be Specific Part I is in my June blogs - it's a funny one!

Hugs and love to all!

An Amazing Discovery - Kids have Emotional Bank Accounts too!

Today, I made the most amazing discovery - kids have emotional bank accounts! I know this might seem obvious to some and crazy to others, but the reality is they do! It finally clicked for me today!

My 7 year old recently told me that he needed more individual time with me without his little sister. This might sound like sibling rivalry or petty jealousy, but he's not that type. Even as a baby he didn't cry unless he truly needed something. He isn't a child of many words due to his expressive communication disorder, so when he talks, I listen. The first time he mentioned it, we went out on a date together - pottery painting, then ice cream. It was SO much fun! We promised to do it again and at least a couple of times each month. Two weeks later, our summer started. He and I got to spend a few days together while his sister finished up preschool. We were both worn out from the school year. During the last few weeks of school, he had become cranky and at times defiant - not at all like himself. I'm not sure he even knew he needed one on one time with me until after our week together. His emotional bank account was temporarily full though - so he was able to tolerate his little sister much better the following week.

My 4 year old is a bit of a different story. First off, she's been vocal since day one. She is persistent, to say the least, about getting her needs met. Her primary need has always seemed to be me. I don't mind, it's just an observation in how different my oldest and youngest are. Even at a time when most toddlers are leaving their mothers lap to explore the world, she would get a toy of interest and bring it back so she could sit on my lap AND explore. She's not in my lap nearly as much anymore, but she still seems to need lap/snuggle time a couple of times a day. Usually this need gets met at night, just before bed. Today was another story!

My youngest is NOT a morning person which is an understatement. We have jokingly dubbed her Princess Charmingless and referred to her as "it" when it comes to whose turn it is to wake her. The convo usually goes "Uh-uh! I woke it yesterday! It's your turn to wake it today!" After a little milk, she is usually her normal cheerful self. For no particular reason, she seemed to just wake up in a mood today. This morning, while I was goofing off on FB, she was laying next to me watching Backyardigans. She kept rubbing her feet (hard) on my legs, digging her heels in etc, despite my two requests not to do so. When she went for my legs the third time, screeching in my direction (a true no-no in my house), I closed my laptop, picked her up, placed her on my lap and asked her what was wrong. She snuggled in, rubbed her face all over mine, and shrugged her shoulders. We had a little chat about good and bad ways to get my attention, and then she stayed there - half on, half off my lap for a good thirty minutes. She squeezed my arms around her a couple of times, gave me kisses, and then was happy as a clam. She was happy for the rest of the day.

It was then that I realized, that kids have emotional bank accounts - just like we do. It doesn't matter that I spent the entire day playing with them yesterday, that we spent hours playing in the sprinklers, and made smoothies. That was what I did for them yesterday - but in their minds, what have I done for them today? Let's face it, we all have days when we wake up - accounts empty. Many of us are probably "spent" pun intended, by the end of each day. As adults, most of us have coping strategies to manage this. That's an adult skill - much like recognizing our own needs and vocalizing them too. Children need our help to recognize their needs for them!

I'm going to try to be more conscious of this in the days to come. Of stopping to take notice when they are getting my attention in all the wrong ways - and instead of addressing not just the behavior, but also addressing their empty emotional bank accounts!

Of course as I write this, my two, who are normally buddies every day, have started squabbling with each other. A sure sign that they have had enough of each other - and their sibling emotional bank accounts are full - or maybe overdrawn. Either way, I've got to go!

I would love to hear your thoughts on this! Do you think your kids have emotional bank accounts too?

Hugs and love to all! I hope you are all having or have had, a wonderful day!

Hi blog! I've missed you! Funny convo w/Mackenzie at the bottom!

Hello Blog! Have you missed me? I've missed you! I know, I've been seriously MIA this past week! Well - it wasn't for nothing!

First up - a heat wave in Seattle! Good Lawd (that's lord if you weren't raised in the land of ya'll like I was). It's been in the 90's - which isn't that hot unless you don't have AC! Yep! That's right! We DO NOT have AC here! It's crazy isn't it? Nothing makes this girl crankier than my indoor thermometer reaching 88 degrees or more during the day and only cooling off to 82 degrees at night!! I'm not sure who I morph into, but she' is NOT nice! By day 2 I had HAD IT! Which means that I also let hubby have it! Don't worry, he knows not to take it personally - it's usually short lived and it's just the heat talking. He's a smart man though - and he loaded me and the kids up for a trip to Lowe's! We bought heat reflector stuff (that's the technical term for it, by the way) for the skylight which is an awesome source of heat during the winter - but turns my home into a green house in the summer! Anyway, you're supposed to apply it to the INSIDE of the window - but I will save you from the stream of explicatives I heard come from my gentle soul of a husband's mouth while he attempted - 40 feet in the air, on a ladder, on the steps, with a spray bottle, and a 4 foot x 2 foot reflective sheet with adhesive on the back of it - to install it. After 30 minutes, both of us getting coated in the spray (which was apparently supposed to be washed off IMMEDIATELY), he gave up and went to the roof! At least there I could not hear any of the explicatives! An hour or so later, small children taunting him from below, me frantically trying to get them away from the area - I had the following convo with Mackenzie (my 4 yr old):

Mack "Mommy, did you teach Daddy how to go up on the roof?"
me with a straight face, not missing a beat said "Yes I did!"

Now I know it isn't right to lie, but I just couldn't resist this one - especially after the following July 4th convo I had with Jack (my 7 year old):
Let me set the scene - b/c it's important to the story
We're driving (following friends who also have two kids) to a 4th of July BBQ. Both of the husband's were driving - this way we mom's can keep the kids under control - and then this happened:
Jack "Mommy, how come the girls always ride on this side and the boys always drive?"
as I am about to reply he says "Lemme guess, it's b/c boys are better drivers?"

Don't worry friends, I corrected him while Daddy CRACKED up laughing! No support at ALL!

Second reason I've been MIA - I've been creating jewelry like mad, setting up an Etsy shop, and trying for hours to take a decent pic of my jewelry! My friend is a professional photographer and is going to help out! I'll be posting soon! In the meantime, if you just wanted to stop by and enjoy my new banner, my Etsy shop is - you guessed it - I Need to Color!

Hope you are all cool, relaxed, and inspired! Love and Hugs!