My Roller Coaster Ride

This has been a crazy month from a parenting perspective. How is it possible to love and hate your kids so much at the same time?

Take Karlin. Karlin is 8. This month she rode in her first-ever Horse Show. She did so well, and showed so much composure, that I thought I would burst with pride. She looked so little and so grown up all at the same time. She was on a giant animal, in front of a crowd and judges. Her foot slipped the stirrup once. Her horse took a big dump in the middle of her reverse. She handled it all in stride. She even managed to show a little humor with an eyeroll when her barn-mate placed ahead of her. Amazing. She also (finally) learned to ride her bike, prompted by the success of her ambitious little brother (see below.)

Then there's the evil side. The side of my brilliant beautiful daughter that throws her homework at me. That snatches a dollar bill from my friend when it was offered to her, without so much as a thank you. That refuses to acknowledge when grown ups are speaking to her. That throws a hissy fit at Girl Scouts when she doesn't win the estimations game. That is generally mouthy, disrespectful, and spoiled.

Take Chase. I taught Chase to ride his bike this month. Without training wheels. All by myself. He did it before his sister (although when she got home from Science Club that day, she immediately learned to ride her too.) Chase has also "officially" started reading. He's taking AR tests at school. He has been identified as a "higher level student", so now he spends 45 minutes of every school day in a 1st Grade class. Unbelievable.

Then there's the evil side of Chase. The side of my funny, smart son that threw a fit when it was time to leave a local play area. Threw a fit as in won't-stand-up-so-I-literally-had-to-drag-him-out fit. Said mean things to his friend just because. Crumpled up and scribbled all over his homework. Generally tantrumy, disrespectful, and spoiled.

So I had a Super Nanny moment. I sat them down on the couch and went through one day's behavior step by step. I pointed out what they did wrong. I let them know how mortified and disappointed I was by their behaviors. I told them that effective immediately, things were going to change. Then I sent them to their rooms. And bawled for 15 minutes.

I mean really - the kids have some horrendous behaviors. But who's fault is that? MINE. So shouldn't I be just as mad at myself as I am at them? Because when it comes down to it, the behave the way they do because I LET THEM.

I love my kids, and I am so proud of them. But lately they have not been very pleasant to be around. They have been cut off from all "extras" until they can demonstrate some significant behavior modifications. They must start using their manners. They must do what I ask them to do, the first time. They must stop being disrespectful. They WILL respond to adults when they are spoken to. They will do their chores.

This was put to the test yesterday. Karlin said "Can I have dessert?" And I calmly said "No - you are cut off from desserts for while, remember?" And she started to respond - in a VERY nasty tone of voice - "Why can't I have..." and I cut her off right there. I said "That tone of voice is EXACTLY why." Chase wanted to watch a movie. Same thing with him.

I am hopeful that in the coming weeks things will improve. The ups of being proud of them and the downs of wanting to kill them are starting to get to me.

I'm ready to get off this roller coaster.

Why I Hate Christmas (Version 212)

I hate Christmas. Excpet for the lights, the cocktails, and the sweets, I hate Christmas.

I hate the shopping. I hate the traffic. I hate the 60 different versions of 12 Christmas songs that you hear over and over and over. I hate the lines at the store. I hate trying to buy gifts, usually for people who don't really need or want anything. I hate the stupid little parties. They all have a "bring an ornamnet to exchange" or "bring a gift to exchange." This means I have to spend time and money I don't really have, shop for a gift I don't really want to buy, and then exchange it for a gift I don't really want to get.

FABULOUS.

Then, once (if) you get all the "gifts" purchased (it will take months to actually pay for them all), then you have to WRAP them. In sparkly wrapping paper with shiny bows and color-coordinated gift tags.

Then there are the charitable endeavors. Don't get me wrong - I am superbly fortunate, and I am all for helping others out. But the guilt is sometimes overwhelming. Food drive? OK - cans of food. Check. Book drive? Box of books. Check. Angel Tree kids, ages 6 and 8. Check. Salvation Army bell ringers. Dump all your change. Check. (Of course the bell ringer at the next store is going to glare at you for walking past, having no way of knowing that you just dumped $40 worth of change into someone else's bucket.)

And oh yes - the Christmas Cards. You have to make a card with a cute photo. Then you have to send it out to everyone on the planet. There are always people you don't send to but that send to you, so you have to make an additional order.

And it's all supposed to be so MEANINGFUL. You have to take your kids to see Santa, becuase they obviously will be scarred for life if you don't. And the lights - you have to go drive and see the cool lights. And church - this is the time of year to definitely go to church (even though I'm not 100% sure there is a God, or at least a good one, but that is a WHOLE 'NOTHER STORY...)

Then you have to have your family in and cook a gorgeous meal, make everyone feel happy and welcome. Keep them all occupied like the happy hostess.

It just all sucks. If I didn't have kids, I would forfeit Christmas all together. Now I know you all are saying "Awww - no you wouldn't. You're just having a bad day." But if I didn't have kids, I would be on a cruise ship somewhere for 2 weeks. If you skipped Christmas, you'd have enough money to pay for it.

That's one of the main reasons why I want to buy a Time Share in Mexico. In about 4 years, the whole "S" thing will be a memory for my kids. When that happens, we will be spending every single Christmas in Mexico.

I hate Christmas too because my dad is gone. My dad didn't like Christmas much either, even though he didn't do most of the work. The fact remains that I just don't like it as much with him not here. The last Christmas I spent with him, he was really sick. He also chose Christmas Day to tell me that he was getting tired of fighting the good fight. That was also the first - and only - time he said "Love you, son." to Bart. (yipee - now I'm crying...) He died less than 2 months later. It was always me and him out in our front yard, hanging up an obscene number of ridiculously tacky lights. Bart doesn't let me do tacky, but I try to compensate with sheer volume. I almost fell over today when I saw a guy who looked a lot like him in the Toys R Us today. Jeans, Guy Harvey t-shirt, baseball cap.

My point is Christmas is never the same once a hole like that is left in your life.

I know a few people who are dealing with that right now, and then some. Any other time of the year would be miserable enough, but becuase it's "the holidays" it's so much worse. A friend who lost her sister. A Dad in the hospital. Two kids without a mommy this Christmas. The CiCi's pizza manager I work with through the PTA who has a tiny daughter just diagnosed with leukemia.

If we all stopped buying gifts and gave that money to cancer research, or medical research, or a Children's hospital...would that make any difference?

To me, Christmas has turned into a stress-filled, obligatory, merchadise-filled nightmare that I have to endure once a year. It's painful on many levels. I hate it.

I suppose I'll feel better on Christmas morning, watching my beautiful healthy kids have a ball. I like to sit out on the lanai and look at the Christmas lights reflecting off the pool. I like to go to Rawls Road and immerse myself in the ridiculously gigantic lights diplay. (www.rawlsroad.com)

But overall? I hate Christmas.

CANCER SUCKS

CANCER SUCKS. CANCER SUCKS. I HATE CANCER. WHY IN THE HELL CAN'T WE DO SOMETHING ABOUT CANCER? WHY IN THE HELL DON'T BILL GATES AND BRANGELINA GIVE SOME OF THEIR MONEY TO HELP STOP CANCER? AND OPRAH? AND THE 50 BAZILLION OTHER "CELEBRITIES"? WHY DO WE SPEND MORE MONEY ON THE SUPERBOWL THAN ON CANCER RSEARCH?

WHY CAN'T ANYBODY DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?

More on this later. Please go make a donation to any Cancer organization. Seriously. Leukemia & Lumphoma Sociey is a good one.

Thoughts and Prayers to WonderSis's family. Especially her sister DKR and her kids, K & K.

Me and All My Free Time

Please be patient and allow me to vent. Again. On a subject that I may have vented on before.

Bart is out of town, so I was lamenting that I was going to be a single parent for 3 days. The response I got from a friend was "So? You have all that free time while the kids are in school. You have like 8 hours of free time a day!"

First - it's 6 hours, not 8. And secondly, are you freakin kidding me? "Free Time"? Here's what I did with all my "free time" yesterday:

6:40 am: wake up
6:45-7:35: get both kids out of bed, both kids fed, both kids dressed, both kid's notebooks/folders/agendas signed, get myself dressed
7:40 - leave for school to drop off kids
7:55 - 8:05: drive to Upper Tampa Bay Trail for exercise
8:15 - 9:00: walk/jog with the dog (multi-tasking at it's best)
9:15: stop at Publix to get 5 grocery items that I can't get at my "regular" store
9:30 - 10:30: yard work
10:30 - 11:30: finish grouting ceramic tile
11:30 - Noon: box up Ebay items for mailing
Noon - 1:00: eat lunch, send PTA emails, clean up grout stuff
1:00 - 1:25: drive to post office to mail Ebay packages
1:30 -2:15: grocery store for the rest of the groceries
2:20-2:30: unload groceries
2:40: pick up kids at bus stop
2:45 - 4:00: get kids doing homework, make PTA donation calls, finalize details for Girl Scout Meeting Tuesday and for Girl Scout camping trip this weekend.
4:00: take a shower and get re-dressed
4:30- 5:00: Karlin's Piano Lesson
5:00-5:30: back to house to get Chase dressed for soccer
5:30-6:30: Soccer Practice
6:45 - 7:30: Dinner
7:30 - 8:15: Baths
8:15 - 8:45: send more Girl Scout emails while kids watch 30 minutes of TV
9:00: kids bedtime
9:20-9:45: load dishwasher, clean up kitchen, pull kid's school clothes out of dryer
9:45 - 10:15 start more laundry, wash face and brush teeth
10:30 - let the free time begin!

And this was actually a SLOW day. I didn't have to go up to the school for any committee meetings, classroom volunteer time, or PTA/School Advisory Council Meetings. Or Uniform fulfillment. Generally, I am up at the school between 6 and 14hours a week. Seriously.

The kids have after-school activities 6 days a week: Piano lessons, 2 soccer practices, Science Club, Girl Scouts, Horseback Riding lessons, and soccer game.

It really, really pisses me off that this person - and a parent at that - seems to think I sit on my ass all day eating bon bons. I am "at home" less than any "stay at home mom" I know. I did all that stuff yesterday, and it didn't even scratch the surface of the stuff I needed to get done.

"Working" moms should really remember that it's "Non-working moms" that do all that fun craft stuff for your kids at school. We help the teacher teach your Kindergartners to read. We make sure your child has school uniforms. We raise money so your kid has more choices of books in the Library. We organize and volunteer at the many fun events that you attend. (We never get to just go and enjoy things with our families - we are too busy trying to make it a great experience for you and your family.) We put together the newsletter that lets you know what's going on at school. We forgo weekends with our families so that we can go to training sessions so we are qualified to take your children camping. I know you think little elves magically make all that stuff happen, but they don't. It's us. It's me.

OK - I'm done. The 20 minutes I spent typing this should have really been spent on other things. I need to run out and get more Bon Bons...

Thank GAWD For The Neighbor's Kid

The world just isn't what it used to be. As kids, we all used to leave the house on our bikes at 8 am, and not come home until dark for dinner. (We would stop at the 7-11 and eat Slim Jims and Slurpees for lunch, of course.) You knew all the kids on your street, and all their parents. And their parents knew you. The boy across the street's older sister was your babysitter. So-an-so's parents played cards with your parents. You ALL went to the same Elementary School, where your Mom was the Secretary. Your Dad would routinely pile all 17 neighborhood kids into his 1962 Chevy Camper pick-up, and take you all to the beach. No seatbelts, no car seats. So was life in Pensacola, Florida in the 1970's.

It's not like that today. We live in a neighborhood that has remained surprisingly steady over the past 5 years. There are a lot of kids in the neighborhood, and a fair number on our street. But the kids across the street choice to a different Elementary School. The kids 2 houses down go to Private School. The kids on the other side stay at the after-school program, and then have baseball/cheerleading etc. You can't let your kids ride their bikes for risk of bodily harm, because as a general rule motorists don't pay attention, and you risk your kids getting splattered all over the street. And no way can they leave the neighborhood - we have a 4-lane highway our front with no sidewalks on this side of the street. And don't even get me started on the potential kidnapper/child molester/scary bad people that probably are out there. It's enough to make you want to lock your kids inside the house and NEVER let them leave.

But that's not realisitic, is it?

The point is that although we know the kids that live near us, you never see packs of neighborhood kids running around and playing together. For the past 3 years, there has been a girl who lives across the street and 5 houses down from us. She's in the same grade as Karlin, at the same school. They were in chorus together for 2 years. They have Science Club together now. I tried to strike up a conversation with her Mom once, but was unsuccesssful. We see them occasioanlly walking their dog, but that's about it.

So imagine my surprise when the other day, the little girl turned up on my doorstep wanting to know if she could play with Karlin. This is H-U-G-E for a few reasons. First, because I don't think it's ever happened before. But second, because I am (as always) worried about my baby girl.

It's not that she doesn't have friends. She has a few. She functions well in a social setting (like Girl Scouts) when she has to. But given the choice, she prefers books to people. I have noticed lately when I peek into the lunchroom (I'm at the school all the time) that Karlin isn't usually talking to anyone. No friends wait on her as she packs up her lunch. The worries me to death, being the social creature that I am.

So a new little girl coming to the house to play? AWESOME! And we hung out with her Dad a bit at the neighborhood Halloween Festival, and let him know how much Karlin enjoyed her company. So the little girl asked if Karlin could come over today.

So this morning at 10:17, I watched my baby girl walk across the street and 5 houses down to her friend's house. We told her to be home by Noon, and she was dead on time. VERY responsible.

I'm just so excited for her. It seems so normal, so much more like what I grew up with. For just a few minutes I can pretend that maybe the world isn't as scary as it is.

But I'm still not letting her eat Slim Jims for lunch.

OK. I'm Better Today.

No really. I am. I still hate the diet, but I'm truckin on through. Maybe it's because I spent 4 hours today going through crap, putting crap away, throwing crap away, and giving crap away. Maybe it's because I got to doze on a giant alligator float in the pool for about an hour and a half. (Fall? What Fall? No Fall here...) Maybe it's because I got to help my daughter make a model of the hotel in "The Mouse and the Motorcycle."

(Side note here: I just LOVE school projects! I wish I could be a third grader again so I could do more school projects! Now before you all freak out, I should tell you that I don't do the work for her. I do all the cutting with the knives. I provide the materials she needs. And I give her a little guidance. It's important that she knows that she doesn't really have time to stain 150 Popsicle sticks and glue them to the bottom of the box to make wood flooring. "Hey! How 'bout we use scrapbook paper that looks like wood paneling?" For the life of me I can't remember why on Earth I didn't do MORE school projects when I was a kid. Now I'm forced to live vicariously through my kids, and occasionally decorate a classroom door or two.)

Anyway - the PMS/Dieting Demon has been shoved back into the box for the time being. My daughter doesn't have swine flu, I can see the playroom floor, the dog had a bath and doesn't smell, and husband is at a hockey game and the kids are asleep. All is nice and quiet in my world at the moment.

I would really like a nice glass of wine, though...

I Am A Prisoner In My Own Home

Let me tell you why I am a prisoner in my own home. It's the diet. The stupid, pain-in-the-ass, expensive diet that I hate. The stupid diet that my friend loves and has had so much success on. The stupid diet that I want to quit already, even though it's only been a week and a half. Is it the beer I miss? Bread? Cheese? Butter? Coffee? YES. But it's also because I feel like I can't even leave my own home. And if I stay home, the food comes here.

Have you ever thought how many social events in America revolve around food? Or have food as a major component? A friend emails you: "Lets' have lunch next week." Or your in-laws call and say "We'll pick up Chinese on the way over and we can all watch the game." Or you get "Let's have that meeting at so-and-so restaurant over dinner." It sucks. And I mean totally and completely sucks.

I can't go out to eat at a restaurant. I can't go to lunch. I have no desire to sit around and WATCH everyone else eating luscious Chinese food. I don't want to watch the game, because everyone else will be drinking ice cold beers and eating chips and queso. I go to the store, and what do I get? Hit in the face with the smell of fresh-baked break in from the bakery. I go for a walk/jog and what happens? My deep breaths inhale the scents of either the Italian Pasta place across the street, or the big fat burgers from the 5 Guys located behind my neighborhood. Go look on Facebook on a Saturday evening and see how many people are posting about FOOD. "Heading to the Seafood Festival - Yum!" "Getting food from our favorite take out!" "Grilling steaks for the game!"

This is miserable, and I mean want-to-break-into-tears-every-15-minutes miserable. The stupid shots aren't helping, and they won't give me the pills that are supposed to help because someone in the Healthcare System seems to think I'm about to have a heart attack. (But that's another story...a long one) I've lost 7.3 pounds, and most of you would probably be motivated by that. I'm not. What is 7.3 pounds to me? I don't look any different. My clothes don't fit any better. Not only do I not feel better, but I feel AWFUL. I don't have much energy to do anything. I can't even watch TV, because every commercial is about food. The doctor's office where I took my daughter today (swine flu negative, thank goodness) was next to an Outback Steakhouse. Talk about good smells.

And the bad news? It's not going to get any better. Not for months and months and months. There is quite literally no end in sight. I have more than 50 pounds to lose. 7.3 pounds is not even a dent in that. AND I still have to get through Halloween (no Resse's Peanut Butter Cups this year - my favorite), Thanksgiving (a pig-out festival if I've ever seen one), Christmas (pig-out round 2), and New Years. And think about all of the parties and events we all go to every year around Christmas time. I am never going to make it.

So where's the silver lining? There isn't one, and hubby doesn't seem to get that. Hubby who probably couldn't gain 5 pounds if I tied him to a chair and fed him Big Macs every 2 hours for a week. He says "You're healthier! You're making a major life change!" And I just want to beat him with something. None of that makes me feel better, not even a little.

Is it really worth it to "be healthier" and live longer if every stupid second you live you are miserable? And cranky? And irritated? And you start to hate your kids because they are eating ice cream and you can't have any?

I am pretty much about ready to quit. I hate this, and I don't really care if I'm fat. And who cares if I have a 12% higher chance of having a heart attack when 1 doctor thinks I already had one anyway? (back to that same long story) I can't even get drunk to escape my misery - no alcohol allowed. I can't sit on my lanai in the morning and drink a cup of coffee. I can't order pizza when I don't feel like cooking. I can't drink a beer and watch the football game. My whole life right now is a giant list of things I can't have and can't do.

And the Ice Cream Truck is cruising the neighborhood as I type this. GREAT. It's like the whole world is mocking me, I swear.