Wherein you remove me from the "Mom of the Year" ballot

***Note: I drafted this post 8 months ago. Eight months ago! But it gave me a chuckle as I read it today, so I decided to publish it.***

My two-year old, Jude, is a fairly good communicator. He started using sign language at a young age (8-9 months, or so), and had a great vocabulary by 18 months. Now that he's two-years old, he's stringing together some phrases. "I don't know," "More, please," and "Watch this!" are some of his favorites. But for some reason, if he wants us to push a button on something, he simply yells "Butt! Butt!" instead of "button." This could apply to his piano, the DVD player, the water dispenser on the fridge, the iPad, or any number of electronic devices.

One of the things I enjoy most about being a mom is seeing the world through my children's eyes, and  I've been trying to do a better job with that. From a two-year old's perspective, every puddle is an invitation to jump, every acorn deserves thorough inspection, and many problems can be solved by yelling the word "Butt!".

The Elmo DVD is stuck on the menu screen? "Butt!"
You need more water? Run to the fridge and yell "Butt!"
You need mom to input the passcode on the iPad? "Butt!"

Wouldn't it be great if most of our adult troubles could be solved by yelling "Butt!

When I left my full-time job to stay home with my kids, I had visions of us picnicking by the lake, happily playing in the sand, sun, and water. We would meet friends for outings to museums, farms, beaches, and playgrounds. After a fun-filled morning at the lake/playground/library/farm/beach, we would return home where the kids would nap and play quietly while I worked on jewelry/housework/whatever project I had going at the moment. We would read stories. We would sing songs. We would do some crafting. We would smile. Unicorns would prance through my living room.

Although many of the above things do happen, the reality is that we're often racing from one activity to the next and trying to fit in grocery shopping, errands, and appointments. Nap time allows me to get my work done (I work part-time from home, which is awesome), but rarely allows me enough time to do housework and/or fun crafting stuff. Simple errands take much longer with two children in tow.

A few weeks ago, I had a very simple to-do list for my afternoon:
- Unload dishwasher
- Take 5-year old to Taekwondo
- Go get birthday present at toy store
- Quick run to the grocery store (less than 10 items needed)
- Come home to start dinner

Easy peasy. I'm feeling good because I had managed some light cleaning, which included cleaning the bathroom and vacuuming, while Jude napped. Conor, my 5-year old, got off the bus at 3PM. I gave him a snack at the island while I unloaded the dishwasher and talked to him about his day. My dogs came to the door to come back inside, and before I could stop him, Conor let them into the house without wiping their paws. It's raining out, so they have tracked mud through the kitchen and living room. I abandoned the dishwasher to get the dogs and wipe their paws. I looked up from the dogs to find that Jude was standing on the dishwasher door wielding a knife. "I helping," he tells me. I confiscated the knife and decided to deal with the muddy floors later. I will also finish unloading the dishwasher later. I send Conor upstairs to put on his Taekwondo uniform. Jude has climbed up onto the island and spilled Conor's water onto the floor. That's OK. I needed water to clean up the muddy floor.

Jude runs to the TV and yells "Butt!" Great idea. He can watch Yo Gabba Gabba while we get ready to leave. I look at the clock. We're doing OK. We're going to make it to Taekwondo on time. Conor comes back downstairs in his school clothes.
"You were supposed to be putting your uniform on!"
"Oh. I forgot."
"What were you doing upstairs?"
"Uh. I don't know."
"You need to get dressed now. We're going to be late."

I run upstairs and bring the uniform down so I can coach him through this task. When I come back down, the dogs are outside ("They wanted to go out again."), and Jude is standing in the dog's water dish. He's going to need dry pants. I bring the dogs in (and wipe their paws this time), I change Jude's pants, Conor is in his uniform, and we're ready to go. Except that Conor can't find his shoes. The ones he just wore home from school. I remember seeing Jude stomping around in them, so we eventually find them in the toy room.

We are only 4 minutes late for Taekwondo. I consider that successful.

After Taekwondo, we go to the toy store to buy a birthday present for a friend. I know that it's a bad idea to take my two children into a toy store at the end of the day, but it's right next to the grocery store, and we need to buy a present TODAY. Because I'm a procrastinator and the party is 2 days away. It went exactly as anticipated. Jude wouldn't stay in the stroller, he topples one display, and Conor thinks we are shopping for him. The kind salesperson agrees to gift wrap our purchases while we run next door to the grocery store.

Since we're only getting a handful of things, we don't need a cart, and I can just put my purchases in the stroller. I grab soap. I use an all natural bar soap that you purchase by the ounce, so it doesn't come pre-packaged. I like the Oatmeal Mint and Cucumber scents. I grab a few bars and place them in my bag.

"Fruit pop!" Jude says, reaching for the bag of soap.
"No," I tell him. "It's soap."
"Pop! Have a bite!" he insists.
"It's not a pop. It's soap."
"FRUIT POP! FRUIT POP!" Tears. Screaming. "OUT!" he yells, as he begins to squirm out of the stroller.
I offer my phone as a consolation.
"NO iPHONE! WANT POP! POP!"
I give in and hand him the soap. He licks it. He scrunches up his face, and then looks at me pointedly. "YUMMMMMMM," he tells me.

I stood in the middle of the produce section and yelled "Butt!" but no one came to my rescue.
Whatever. It's organic. He takes another lick. He's happy.

I look up and see that Conor is grabbing handfuls of crackers from a samples stand. I realize it's almost 6PM. My poor kids are hungry. Time to finish our shopping and get home for dinner. We proceed with the rest of our shopping. I stop every 15 feet or so and wait for Conor to catch up to me. I grab some more samples to hold them over until dinner time. Jude prefers the soap. I go to the express lane. I explain to the friendly cashier that whenever he's ready, I'm going to hand him the soap, he'll scan it quickly, and then hand it right back to me to give to Jude. He gives me a funny look, observes my toddler licking the soap, and sort of shrugs. I take the soap from Jude, and he begins screaming, "POP! POP! FRUIT POP!" The cashier quickly weighs the soap, rings it up, and returns it to me. I give it back to Jude. He licks it again. He's happy. "YUMMMMMM!" he tells the cashier. The cashier laughs. I shrug and say, "It's basically oatmeal and mint. It's organic. There are no chemicals in it. Don't judge me." He really thinks this is hilarious. I'm guessing he was about 18-years old and doesn't have any kids yet.

We stopped back at the toy store to pick up our purchases, ran through the rain to the car, and made it home for dinner, which was probably scrambled eggs that night.

My updated to-do list:

- Unload dishwasher - Fail
- Take 5-year old to Taekwondo - Check
- Go get birthday present at toy store - Check
- Quick run to the grocery store - Check
- Come home to start dinner - Check, sort of
- Clean mud off of floor and rug - I think that's still on my current list


I'm sure most parents can relate to the above events. It takes much longer than it should to complete simple errands, and it takes ages for me to complete simple projects. I have been working on a duvet cover for my guest bed for well over a month now. I was working on it last weekend, and was about 75% finished when I realized that I had goofed on one of the critical measurements. I am hoping to go back and fix it some time this week, but after spending so much time on it, only to realize that I had to rip out all of my work, I needed to step away for a while. I am so upset that I wasted my precious project time, and now I need to find a few more hours to redo it. BUTT!!!

***Additional note: I did eventually finish that duvet cover. I'll share pictures another day.***

Slow Down, America!

There are always a few days every year that make me question my sanity for choosing to live in New England. Today is one of them. It was 3'F when I woke up this morning, and -10'F with the windchill. Single-degree temperatures and sub-zero wind chills (Wicked cold, as the locals would say) just aren't fun for anyone. Even if you are a skier or snowboarder, or one of those weird people who simply enjoys the cold, you've got to admit that this weather isn't fun for any type of outdoor activity. I could hardly stand to pump my gas this morning. (Kudos to New Jersey for getting the full service gas station thing right.)

But here's the thing that really gets me. I was in a big box store the other day, trying to find a warm winter hat for me, and slippers for my boys. Sadly, the selection was poor because these things went on clearance weeks ago. It's January. In New England. We have at least 3 more months of winter ahead of us. The store had no less than 150 bikini choices though. And I should probably grab a swimsuit now, because if I wait until May, they'll be stocking the fall clothes, and there won't be any swimsuits left. Why are we in such a rush to move on to the next season? The next holiday? The next big event?

Slow down, America! Let winter have its season!

I've found myself thinking a lot about the pace at which we live. I am not big on new year's resolutions, but I do usually set a few goals for myself sometime in January. (Or February. I'm a procrastinator, remember?) This year I want to focus on being present. That's it. I need to learn how to appreciate the moment. I want to stop planning out my next 10 steps and making mental to-do lists while I'm playing with my children. I just dropped my toddler off at the babysitter's, and I have to volunteer at my older son's kindergarten class in about an hour. I would normally be out for a quick run right now, but hello?...it's -10' outside. I should also be checking things off my to-do list right now, but I'm sitting here with a cup of tea, writing a blog post. A long overdue blog post. (More on that in a separate post.)

There are so many pressures placed on us today, by both society and ourselves. Pressure to be successful. Pressure to look great. Pressure to have a clean house. Pressure to be the best mom, dad, friend, sibling, grandparent. (No one will ever accuse me of being the best housekeeper in the world, so at least I haven't caved to that pressure.) Pressure to cook the best, organic, free-range, grass-fed, sugar/preservative/sodium/dairy/gluten-free meals for our families. It's no small wonder that we often multitask. I was waiting at the bus stop with my kindergartner the other day. He was happily kicking a snow bank. I was rocking my toddler back and forth in the stroller with one hand, while updating my grocery shopping list on my phone with the other hand, and answering the occasional question from my 5-year old. I realized that I needed to plan one more meal. I looked up a recipe and added a few things to my list, then mentally planned out the rest of my morning...Clean up breakfast dishes, go to gym, go to grocery store, go to post office, home for lunch, put my toddler down for his nap, work while he naps and maybe clean a little bit if he naps long enough for me finish working before my kindergartner comes home, etc. Do you know what I should have been doing? I should have been playing in the damn snowbank with my kindergartener. Instead, I was a million miles away until the bus pulled up.

I do this all too often. I fold clothes while I'm playing Goblet Gobblers with my kindergartner (which is a great game, in case you're looking for game recommendations), and I make shopping lists while playing ball with my toddler. Incidentally, "ball" with my toddler involves repeatedly blowing up a small beach ball that he catches and immediately deflates, and then hands back to me saying "blow up." Again and again. I check email while I'm on the phone with people. There are so many people and things that deserve my complete attention, and I rarely give it to them.

Anyone who has kids will tell you that time goes by too quickly. At the risk of sounding cliche, I can't believe how quickly my kids are growing up. I'm afraid that I'm going to look down at my phone one day to check messages, and then look back up to realize they're teenagers. And that they no longer want to play ball or Goblet Gobblers with me. I don't want to wake up someday and realize that I'm old, and wonder where all the years went. If my life flashes before my eyes, I don't want to see clips of me looking at a shopping list while my children play at my feet.

I am going to slow down. I am going to be present. I am going to live in the moment. Who's with me?