Friday, October 26, 2012

Jeggings are not jeans...


It’s that time of year again. The seasons are changing and I’ve entered the vortex of never ending laundry. I keep approaching the daunting task of organizing the kid’s drawers and closet before winter officially arrives.  But each time I get ballsy enough to start the task, the overwhelming amount of clothes that don’t fit them anymore and lack of places to stick them overcome my good intentions.

Socks are my archenemy. I hate them, they hate me and we battle it out all winter. They run and hide, I seek and sometimes find but usually their partner won’t survive. All I’m left with is a basket full of widowed socks that spend an eternity being my new dust rags. Mwahahahaahhaha!!! (evil laugh) I still hate them.

Living in Texas has its advantages. We get to wear sandals a couple months longer and we can get away with wearing hoodies before we need an actual coat. But there is always that pivotal moment when the cold front arrives and I’m completely unprepared for it. Kylee is even more unprepared for cold weather than I am. She goes thru a cycle of denial that she can’t wear her strappy sandals, jeggings are not jeans, and socks are not optional. YAY for more reasons to fight with my 6 year old! (insert sarcasm here___) The last cold front that came in I decided to do some experimental parenting. (Or I was just tired of justifying myself to a child and wanted to see her choices nip her in the bud – yeah, probably that one)

I told her it was going to be cold and she should dress accordingly.  Also, we were dressing  to go to church. Now our church is very casual and has a come as you are type dress code. However Kylee had been wearing the seams out of a tiny pair of jean shorts that were an inch away from being spanks with pockets. Too short for church or public for that matter but the cold factor was just another reason to retire them. I secretly plot to get those shorts to stay at her dads but they mysteriously end up in my laundry week after week. Well played daddy. Well played. Anyhow, she glared at me with her eyebrow raised clearly thinking I’m the dumbest mother of all time who skipped the orientation on how to raise a child. She was looking at me as if I told her aliens were pooping French fries and it was raining tartar sauce. 

What? I ask. She explained to me that it’s not that cold and she’d be fine. The escapade of getting ready for church can deplete me of my faith. In efforts to restore my energy and potentially set her up for a good ole life lesson, I decided not to fight her on this and see what happened. As predicted, she was cold. She begged me to turn the heater on, she asked to wear my jacket and said her toes were numb… Mwahahahaahhaha!!! Miserable child with self inflicted discomfort!!! Mission accomplished.

Sometimes I have to let her make the wrong decisions so she can see how right I always am.

See? I didn’t skip the orientation Kylee. 

Friday, October 12, 2012

The Diary of a Mad Cheer Mom


If I had a magic power I think I would like to be able to read minds. There’s no telling what the cheer moms think of me. I could take a a pretty well educated guess though. In my defense, their hours leading up to practice probably look  a lot different than mine. From what I can tell I’m the only single mom on the squad. This explains my frequent complaints about the hidden fees of cheerleading.

Usually the second we get home and walk inside the production of mayhem begins. Backpacks hit the ground and seemingly explode leaving debris of Kindergarten school work mixed with dirty socks and candy wrappers. Shoes are removed one at a time and feet apart from one another. This lays the foundation for the inevitable “WHERE’S MY OTHER SHOE?!” fiasco for the following morning. Socks go flying and they must multiply as their make their decent to the floor. There’s no other explanation as to why 4 stinky feet produce 6 socks. And none match.

Our agenda last night consisted of a school project due today and cheer practice. On cheer nights my routine is reasonably disturbed and it becomes less of a routine and more of a race to the finish line. It doesn’t really matter how organized you are or how many ideas you’ve implemented from Pinterest. With kids, your routine and structure means jack didley squat because kids are constantly dropping weapons of mass destruction on your plans.  And they’ll look at you right in the face as they destroy your hopeful dream of an orderly night. For instance, as we’re walking out of the door for practice Kylee hands me a note that she is responsible for providing her entire class with snacks the next day. Boom!

I didn’t want to be late to practice. So instead of going to the store with 2 kids for 1 thing I decided to drop Kylee off at practice with my friend and Logan and I would run up to the store. Genius. I avoided the “MOM CAN I GET SOMETHING? PUH-LEEEEASE! OH MAN! I NEVER GET ANYTHING! THAT’S NOT FAIR!” headache.

We get to practice, I unload Logan, grab our drinks, the fold up chairs and head towards the squad as gracefully as I possibly can. My hands being full is a look I wear often.  I notice the lack of movement and as I get closer and realize everyone is looking at me. Apparently they were practicing with their pom poms and  Kylee’s were in my car… At the store.. Nothing like being that mom who holds up the entire thing. Practice continues and for some reason my child thinks she can get out of formation whenever she feels like it and that’s Cheer Mom 101. Every week at practice I spend a good amount of time directing Kylee not to play in traffic, keeping Logan out of ant piles and reminding Kylee to stop counting the clouds and watch her coach. I usually use my nice, we’re in public around strangers voice but they have grown an immunity to that and I’m forced to use my Real Housewives of New Jersey voice.

This is a weekly event of yelling, repeating and yelling some more in front of the other moms who are always well put together. Whereas I look as though I tied myself to the back of a school bus and took the long way there. Which that might be less painful than what I'm currently doing and could save on gas... Hmmm? So like I said, no telling what these fine ladies think of me. 

I bet they drive their nice Tahoes to Starbucks and make spirit sticks together and discuss the frazzled new mom who sarcastically complains about spending $5 on a homecoming gift. Sure wish they’d bring me a latte back though.

The Diary of a Mad Cheer Mom


If I had a magic power I think I would like to be able to read minds. There’s no telling what the cheer moms think of me. I could take a a pretty well educated guess though. In my defense, their hours leading up to practice probably look  a lot different than mine. From what I can tell I’m the only single mom on the squad. This explains my frequent complaints about the hidden fees of cheerleading.

Usually the second we get home and walk inside the production of mayhem begins. Backpacks hit the ground and seemingly explode leaving debris of Kindergarten school work mixed with dirty socks and candy wrappers. Shoes are removed one at a time and feet apart from one another. This lays the foundation for the inevitable “WHERE’S MY OTHER SHOE?!” fiasco for the following morning. Socks go flying and they must multiply as their make their decent to the floor. There’s no other explanation as to why 4 stinky feet produce 6 socks. And none match.

Our agenda last night consisted of a school project due today and cheer practice. On cheer nights my routine is reasonably disturbed and it becomes less of a routine and more of a race to the finish line. It doesn’t really matter how organized you are or how many ideas you’ve implemented from Pinterest. With kids, your routine and structure means jack didley squat because kids are constantly dropping weapons of mass destruction on your plans.  And they’ll look at you right in the face as they destroy your hopeful dream of an orderly night. For instance, as we’re walking out of the door for practice Kylee hands me a note that she is responsible for providing her entire class with snacks the next day. Boom!

I didn’t want to be late to practice. So instead of going to the store with 2 kids for 1 thing I decided to drop Kylee off at practice with my friend and Logan and I would run up to the store. Genius. I avoided the “MOM CAN I GET SOMETHING? PUH-LEEEEASE! OH MAN! I NEVER GET ANYTHING! THAT’S NOT FAIR!” headache.

We get to practice, I unload Logan, grab our drinks, the fold up chairs and head towards the squad as gracefully as I possibly can. My hands being full is a look I wear often.  I notice the lack of movement and as I get closer and realize everyone is looking at me. Apparently they were practicing with their pom poms and  Kylee’s were in my car… At the store.. Nothing like being that mom who holds up the entire thing. Practice continues and for some reason my child thinks she can get out of formation whenever she feels like it and that’s Cheer Mom 101. Every week at practice I spend a good amount of time directing Kylee not to play in traffic, keeping Logan out of ant piles and reminding Kylee to stop counting the clouds and watch her coach. I usually use my nice, we’re in public around strangers voice but they have grown an immunity to that and I’m forced to use my Real Housewives of New Jersey voice.

This is a weekly event of yelling, repeating and yelling some more in front of the other moms who are always well put together. Whereas I look as though I tied myself to the back of a school bus and took the long way there. Which that might be less painful than what I'm currently doing and could save on gas... Hmmm? So like I said, no telling what these fine ladies think of me. 

I bet they drive their nice Tahoes to Starbucks and make spirit sticks together and discuss the frazzled new mom who sarcastically complains about spending $5 on a homecoming gift. Sure wish they’d bring me a latte back though.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

The Mother Resume


Amanda D Saunders a.ka. Moooooommmm!
123 Welcome To Organized Caos Lane
Burleson, TX 76028

OBJECTIVE:
Continue raising the children that God entrusted to me with little to no mental damage or visible scars. To maintain a semi-clean living environment. To do the dishes every night and not put them off until the morning (because let's face it, that ain't gonna happen). To teach them things that Disney and NickJr can’t. Resume teaching my kids the difference between joking and lying, what the dirty clothes baskets are for and where the trash can is in every room. Demonstrate how to be kind and patient (except when in traffic or in the line at the grocery store behind someone with a coupon book)

PROFESSIONAL EXPERIENCE:

Two Years of Single Parenting:
Top priorities for the success of the household included but are not limited to the following:

  • Daily Prayer
  • Paying rent on time
  • Meal plan (does not include rotating Taquitos, chicken nuggets and Macaroni)
  • Picking which battles to fight and which to let go. (I.e. answering the door for the pizza delivery guy while you’re changing your shirt in the living room and forced to leap behind the door – Suit up its battle time. Letting them have another Go-Gurt before dinner – let it go)
  • Multi task – (i.e. Get home, walk in the door, sit purse down, respond to requests for juice and snacks, rotate laundry, unload dishwasher, feed the fish, get on the floor and tickle the kids, cook dinner, (smile) eat dinner, open the toy box while you clean up dinner, start baths, remind them where the dirty clothes basket is (again) wash kids, (smile) read stories, make lunch for the next day, sign folders, (smile) tuck the kids in bed, open the wine SMILE… Repeat following business day)
  • Remain unbiased when a sibling argument erupts even if you know the older sibling was purposely trying to get that exact reaction from their little brother and the little brother retaliated and hit the older sister in the head with his Iron Man. (don’t point out my run on sentence) Lessons to be learned, teach them.
  • Breathe and smile
  • Drink wine
  • Record a lot of Bravo TV shows
  • Find a new way of saying NO that makes them think you are saying YES. I find it helps to blame the teachers or your boss for your shortcomings. (i.e. I wish I could but my boss won’t let me off work and if I don’t work we can’t go to the movies this weekend. Or, I would love to help with that fundraiser but your teacher said they have enough volunteers…. Look Wizards of Waverly place is on!! Would you like some skittles?
  • Hot baths
EDUCATION:
My education as a” moooooommmmm” is based solely on live and learn basis typically learned the smelly, sticky and hard way.

  • Don’t attempt to make that quick run to the store without an emergency diaper and wipes. You will NOT be in and out, you WILL have a doody situation and you WILL be that mom with the smelly poop-stained-pants kids causing heads to turn and eyebrows to be raised.
  • Keep your reaction to tantrums, shots, injuries down to a minimal freak out conniption
  • Don’t expect to sit down often
  • Sippy cups are a moldy milk booby trap. If there is a sippy cup left out, rinse it immediately or it will grow Brussels sprouts and attract trolls.
  • Your car will magnetize wrappers, happy meal toys, markers with missing lids, empty juice boxes and dirty socks. The harder you try to keep it clean, the dirtier it gets. Don’t fight it.
  • Your idea of a clean room and the kid’s idea of a clean room will always differ. Never underestimate how much crap will fit under the bed. Always inspect the job.
  • Skipping naps is never a good idea no matter how good of a mood they are in before noon. The transformation from pleasant child to Bart Simpson is rapid.
  • The dirty clothes basket will always be viewed as a sled, a cage or car. There is no cure for this.
  • Being late means nothing to kid’s. Literally.
  • Communication when the TV on is impossible. I repeat, IMPOSSIBLE. If there is a fire, turn the TV off first, then yell FIRE!
  • You can’t be in two places at once. Trying to will result in a pulled muscle.
  • You can’t please two kids at once. Trying to will result in a frustration attack.
  • When a kid promises they won’t make a mess, they’re lying.

SKILLS: Multi-tasker, full time dispute settler, precise booger picker, toddler groomer, expedited chauffer, personal chef, warden, on call nurse, specialized assistant, individual caregiver, full time MOOOOOOM.


References Available Upon Request. Could take up to 7 business days. 

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Rise N Friggin Shine


My kids have been home from their dad’s roughly 20 hours (but who’s counting?) and I’m already reaching for the Benadryl life line. Something happens during their time away from me that gives them a false sense of fearless insanity to speak and act like intoxicated Chihuahuas. When Kylee whines all I hear are the monkeys from the Wizard of Oz. 

Truth is, no one likes waking up for work or school. The 6am hour is only welcomed by kids on Saturday or Sunday when the possibility to catch some extra sleep is an attainable dream. But Kylee’s response to me getting her up for school can easily be compared to her reaction when I told her she needed shots for Kindergarten; Loud and full of tears. It’s not a new routine. I haven’t added any hoops of fire to jump through. My expectations of her in the mornings are fairly minimal. Get dressed, brush her teeth and hair, pack her lunch. Simple. I typically make her pack her lunch the night before to avoid the certain explosion of emotions that follow my difficult request that she…pack her lunch. I simply do not understand her unjustified outbursts of lunacy in the mornings before school. I wake her up gently with hugs and kisses and the lame ole Rise N’ Shine but she still wakes up as hostile as a pit bull. If I came in blaring Linkin Park or Nickelback while slamming pots and pans together I would understand her being somewhat unreceptive to me. 

I haven’t discovered the perfect way to wake a child yet. I know it doesn’t consist of:
a)      Saying good morning
b)      Asking how they slept
c)       Kissing their heads
d)      Rubbing their backs
e)      Saying Rise N Shine
f)       Or waking them up

Maybe if I tell them tomorrow is Saturday they will wake up on time with more energy than an ADHD kid filled with soda and cotton candy. 

I’d rather not start my mornings off with constant reminders that brushing their teeth and going to school barefoot is not an option. It never was so stop asking! 

I’m downloading Linkin park and Nickelback to my Ipod just in case new techniques need to be explored.