Motherhood

That’s what friends are for

It’s Saturday night. So, of course, I have to do the dreaded Sunday ironing before I go to bed.

There is not one chore in the whole world that I detest more than ironing.

So, while the iron heats up, I am looking at the pictures on my hard drive.
Here is a picture from last week when LG’s shirts were ironed.

I am sure that none of these shirts are in the closet now.
They have all joined new phases of the laundry cycle.

The phases are:

One – the first dirty laundry basket in the bedroom.
Two – the second laundry basket in the laundry room.
Three – pretreated or soaked.
Four – Being washed (at least I have a machine that does this, unlike my dishes)
Five – in the dryer.
Six – within the pile in front of the dryer.
Seven – being folded.
Eight – being put away or hung up. (Phase Seven and eight can differ on an average of two days)
Nine – Being taken from the hanger and worn (and ironed if necessary).

It doesn’t really matter what phase these shirts are in right this second. All we need to know, for the story’s sake is that these shirts are most certainly not still ironed.

LG wore one to work every day this week.
And he was a very happy man when he didn’t have to iron every morning, like usual.

I was not the woman who ironed these shirts.
This is where my post title comes in.
I have every reason to be worried because
my friend Valerie was.

How do you get a Valerie, you wonder?
So have I.

So, is “ironing shirts” what friends are for? I don’t recall those lyrics from the song.

I have pondered this question. What are friends for?
I will post about my answer another day.

Right now, I need to sleep so I can stay away (ha ha, just caught this typo when editing – this is supposed to say awake) at church tomorrow.

But, I will not sleep without telling Valerie THANKS.

And without leaving you this funny story.

A few years back Abigail received a shirt from one of her friends for a birthday present.
She sat down to write her thank you cards.

I was glad that I caught this spelling error before I mailed the note:

Dear ________,

Thank you so much for the S-H-I-R-T. (but the R was left out)
I loved it.

Abigail.

So, maybe friends aren’t made for interesting birthday gifts or even for misspelled thank you cards.

Maybe they are made for doing the chores you hate most.

What do you think?

Rules, rules, and more rules.

As you all know, I am blessed with three beautiful daughters. What you don’t know is that these girls are almost perfect in every way. I’m not trying to brag. I just speak the truth.

Look at this, even their profiles are perfect.

What a great Mother’s Day gift from the primary, huh?

People notice the goodness of my children and they are always asking me, “Why are they so good? What are your tricks? What are your rules?” I could write a book, really, but wish to share a really good trick here. Rules have to be easily maintained.

First, I have to give credit to the kids, God sent us the best.

Second, I think LG and I learned early that following through is very important in discipline. If you do lay down a rule, you must follow through with enforcing it.

Third, we give our kids room to just be. Therefore, in return, they give us room to just be.

These three “tricks” go together. First, you have to believe, truly believe with everything you are that your children are great, and that they want to be great. This ideal in your children really affects your attitudes when parenting.

Second, you have to be in charge. You can’t let your kids run the roost. They need leadership. They are just waiting to be taught the consequences of their actions. You must follow through so that they understand that there are real and consistent consequences. Lord of the Flies taught me this in 9th grade.

Third, and this is a very important key. You have to give enough room to your children, and more importantly to YOU, so that following through is actually do-able. If you have so many rules, being in charge is way too hard. And NOT fun! And nobody wants a mom or dad who is always nagging them. Look at the federal government. They are a prime example of screwing things up with too many restrictions to enforce.

I am not going to take credit for my parenting wisdom. I got my parenting style from my parents. They had seven kids. People with lots of kids usually adapt to a “survival” method of parenting. I think that this “survival” method is best. Do ONLY what is absolutely necessary.

The words of a surviving friend to her children suit this style perfectly, ” I am on the phone, come and get me ONLY if someone is bleeding or the house is on fire.”

LeGrand and I were laughing at ourselves the other day. Whenever we have a higher maintenance kid visit, we are always relieved to see them go back home. For the most part our girls are so easy and don’t require much but the food I prepare and a good hug from time to time. We just don’t “get” kids who want to be constantly in our face. They exhaust us.

Yes, we know, we’ve raised our kids to be low maintenance. We aren’t sure if it is a good thing. Not that we are going to change it. We like our kids the way that they are. They make our life easy. Someday because of our parenting style we may be able to handle some more, and make them low maintenance kids too. We pray for that.

Some of you may think that this sounds heartless. I can hear you now, “What kind of mother are you? You don’t want to interact with your kids?” You may think that we are horrible parents who don’t spend time with our kids. You are dead wrong. We still spend a lot of time with them.

Our time is quality though and it is full of great conversations, laughing, learning, fun, and love. Quantity is important and I think too many parents justify their own absence by saying “When you have quality time, you don’t need as much quantity.” But, this justification will be used by me only in reference to the energy that is passed between my children and I. When I don’t have to spend my whole day breaking up fights, telling my kids what to do, or disciplining them for what rule they broke, my time is freed up for such better interactions.

We have very little negative interaction. Most of our communication is positive. Our children are independent. They are problem solvers. They work out a lot on their own. They are confident. They are also creative.

Here is some food art that they come up with. It’s a pond with goldfish, and yes, they ate every one. Some of those freaky moms out there would be upset by something like this. There were only compliments from this mother, “Wow you guys, that is pretty cool. Let me take a picture.” “Ahh mom, why do you have to put everything on your blog?”

I was just reading this and it got me thinking about what Do NOT’s I have as a mother.

How do my do not’s affect my kids.

A friend and I were talking the other day. She has a rule that her children like to break, “Thou shalt not play in my room.” Where seems to be the favorite place for her kids to play? Her bedroom, of course.

I’ve been pondering, “What are my rules?” Do my kids like to break them?

I have come to the conclusion that I don’t have very many, therefore they don’t need to break them.

Some of the only ones that I can think of are:

No screaming unless you are being kidnapped.

No eating after you brush your teeth at night.

If I count, you better come. (and they always do to the total delight of any onlooker)

Here is what hangs on our fridge. These rules are all it takes at our house.

Sophia added the last one all by herself.

We aren’t sure when she did it. She didn’t have to tell us. She was happy to let us find her addition on our own time. (It goes back to that giving each other space thing)

And, she’s right. When you only have seven written rules, and three unwritten ones it’s easy for everyone to be happy.

“A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone.” ~Henry David Thoreau

Be proud

Do you hate going out in public in your swimsuit?

Here is the only picture I could find on my hard drive of me in a swimsuit. Conveniently, most of my body is still covered.

I know that I look downright awful in a swimsuit, but I get in one anyway. Why? Because I love to swim and I love to have fun with my kids!

My mother would NEVER swim with us. I am not sure of the reasons.

Maybe she was too cheap to buy a swimsuit?

Or maybe she didn’t dare wear one from the DAV, where she bought ALL of her clothes? (Disabled Veterans Army or something was the name of my mom’s favorite thrift store in Oceanside, CA – I spent literal days there while growing up – I can still smell the place)

Or maybe mom used to swim but, she gave up trying to have fun at the beach after the 4th child, which just so happened to be me?

I really should ask her. I think she may be a little afraid of the water. I cannot recall her EVER getting in the water with us at a pool or a beach.

I do recall many water fights. I mean the woman knew how to have fun, but she just had to have her clothes on.

Well, if you are one of THOSE moms, I implore you to just get in the pool. Your kids don’t care. And, really nobody else does either. Let go of the gawking teenagers.

If you need a little extra motivation, read this. (you’re welcome to Mindi for the link love) If you haven’t read the link yet, go on, Mindi will make you laugh and give you some much needed confidence.

And if Mindi’s story doesn’t work, maybe mine will.

The other day while at the fountains with the kids, I took off my pants to go out in the water with Brayden, my niece Lily started to stare at me. She kept staring for about 15 minutes. I was starting to get a little uncomfortable, but kept reminding myself that she in only five.

I was relieved when Lily finally busted out with. “Emo, (this is what she calls me, it means Aunt in Korean) you have very strong legs. They are stronger than mine.” Her bust out made me bust out. Yeah, they are strong alright. They’ve got to be so they can provide a place for all that cellulite. Well, it was nice to have that over with. Once she said her peace, she ran off to play and I could finally get out from under a child’s scrutiny.

But, hey, I now know that my legs are strong, whereas before I just always thought that they were the place my body prefers to store my fat.

A letter to my man

Dear LeGrand,

There is no one on this earth that is happier for you than me.

I am smiling HUGE thinking about you over at your new office,

being your own boss.

You are sitting at that big nice desk,

knowing that you are living the dream.

You must feel so fulfilled and so blessed.

I think that they were all right when

they told us it would be worth it.

God has been good to us and has sustained us.

I know he will continue to bless us.

I know that you are happy to live your dream.

Look at that smile.

I am happy because you are happy.

Even though our lives have been crazy for two weeks straight,

I got used to working by your side.

I want you to know that I am missing you very much.

I think that you are right when you said it’s finally all coming together.

Now that you are working at your own office, I am just wondering one thing.

When will you take me out to lunch?

We could try the quaint BBQ place across the street.

But only if you want to lose weight.

( I thought that this was a sign with a misspelling until I realized their creative play on words.)

I think that this will be a perfect place for us to eat.

We can call ahead and lose wait time.

And since you are such a totally busy lawyer, I know that you need to save time.

And I will patiently wait for you to finish out your work week,

so that I can have some of your coveted free time.

And, then all your girls will go to church and look at you sitting up on the stand.

And we will improve our family, so that we can all love and miss you even more.

And, we will wish that you were sitting by us.

Just like I do right now.

Love,

Alice

Life’s not fair

Life is just not fair.

I preach this message to my daughters.

I figure if they get the message into their tiny little bodies now,

they will be able to enjoy life’s injustices in their bigger mommy bodies later.

Here are some pictures to illustrate my point:

Last week, LG got this.

Abigail got this:

Abigail, Sophia, and Bella got this:

(I have to be honest, I kind of got this too, but if I admit it, the fact would ruin my point)

And, on Friday, here is what I got.

Oh, and I won’t forget to show you what else I got, even though I cringed when LG photographed it.

(I have to say now that I am grateful for LG’s assistance in my blogging goal last week – even if I was too busy to think of it, he didn’t forget)

And, the real reason that life is not fair.

On Friday, after helping LG with his practice all week guess what I got?

After catching up on all my housework,

I then got to spend 4 hours doing my favorite thing ever

and pack the whole family for the weekend!

(I, too, got to enjoy the weekend get-away, along with the rest of them, but if I told you about that here, it would also ruin my mother martyring moment)

Needless to say, last week was extremely busy.

I missed my blogging time. But, hey, life’s not fair. I’ll take it when I can get it.

I will also take the moment from last week when I bonded with a mother of a different species.

I couldn’t help but wonder how this mother bird feels about her duties on the home front?

And the quote from the day is brought to you from my blogging buddy, Sheila.

In those times in our life when we yearn to have more in our lives, we

should dwell on the things that we already have. In doing so we will often find

that our lives are full to overflowing.

Welcome Wendy

I told you that my blogging influence is vast!

Wendy has joined our world. Go over and tell her hello.

I know she is going to love it here. I mean seriously, she cannot possibly NOT love it here.

Every mom needs a break from motherhood once in a while, even if it is to just take a few minutes and write about our kids.

What is more enjoyable to you, nursing your kid’s boo-boos away or blogging? C’mon, be honest!

Tell Wendy thanks for the lovely photo. This is her daughter Taylor’s scraped knee. I captured the photo at soccer a few weeks ago right after the original scab had been ripped from it’s home. I am posting it in honor of Wendy joining our escape from mommy reality. What better than a scraped knee to symbolize motherhood?

Taylor is quite the athlete…I don’t even think she flinched when this happened…just kept right on playing. That’s my kind of girl…I am so glad to have her as Abigail’s friend and so glad to have her mom as my real friend and my newest blogging friend.

Happy Mother’s Day

My friend Wendy doesn’t have a blog. I know, I need to whip out my blogging charm on her. I sit here at 7 am on a Saturday, unable to sleep. I have been sick and up since 5. Wendy sent this e-mail to me and it made me cry, and cough harder, and get more stuffed up. I thought that this e-mail went perfectly with my recent Mothering 101 post.

Happy Mother’s Day.
MOTHERS and MOMS

This is for the mothers who have sat upall night with sick toddlers in their arms,wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayerwieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying,’It’s okay honey, Mommy’s here.’

Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on endsoothing crying babies who can’t be comforted.

This is for all the mothers who show up atwork with spit-up in their hair and milk stainson their blouses and diapers in their purse.

For all the mothers who run carpools andmake cookies and sew Halloween costumes.And all the mothers who DON’T.

This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they’ll never see. And the motherswho took those babies and gave them homes.

This is for the mothers whose priceless artcollections are hanging on their refrigerator doors. And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer games insteadof watching from the warmth of their cars. And that when their kids asked, ‘Did you see me,mom?’ they could say, ‘Of course, I wouldn’t havemissed it for the world,’ and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand)mothers who wanted to, but just couldn’t find the words.

This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.

For all the mothers who read ‘Goodnight, Moon’ twice a night for a year. And then read it again, ‘Just one more time.’

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls ‘Mom?’ in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home — or even away at college — or have their own families.

This is for all the mothers who sent their kids thinking they’d be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.

This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can’t find the words to reach them.

For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.

For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, andsew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart?

Is it the ache she feels when she watches her son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?

The jolt that takes her from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to pu ther hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M.when she just wants to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in her home?

Or the need to flee from wherever she is and hug her child when she hears news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation… And for mature mothers learning to let go.

For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without.

This is for you all. For all of us… Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them. And pray and never stop being a mother…Please pass along to all the mothers in your life.

Mothering 101

Tonight as I talked with my husband, I was expressing my concern for a friend who just had her third baby.

I asked LeGrand, “What can I do to help her transition?” I really want to try and alleviate some of her adjustment pain.

“Should I call the Relief Society and set up meals and babysitting?” LeGrand with his infinite wisdom says, “Yeah, you could do that, but why prolong the inevitable nervous breakdown.”

And, here is the telling rest of the paragraph. I hate to nark on myself here, but it is just too funny not to share. Here is what came straight from my hubby’s mouth.

LG: “Alice, she has to figure it out on her own. She’ll have the nervous breakdown, just like you did, and she’ll then figure stuff out on her own.”

Me: “Stuff, like what?”

LG: “Like, she’ll quit bathing her kids every day, and she’ll get a hobby, and she’ll let them sit in front of the TV, wash her dishes once a week, and get behind on her laundry.”

With LG’s raving review of my mothering skills, don’t you think I should call my friend right now and impart all my knowledge? And, also, don’t ya’ll think I deserve a really GREAT BIG Mother’s Day gift for learning every Motherhood survival technique known to womankind?

Do I have to stop blogging and thinking?

I am sorry to Sheila. (who is my only reader who missed my post this morning) I am sorry to any of the rest of you who really did miss me but just didn’t mention it…yeah right.

Two things at our house.

First, LG had his monthly interviews with the kids last night. As we were going to bed, he told me that separately each of the girls complained of my blogging. (It is so the life of a mother to find something that you really enjoy to have it ripped from your fingers…why is it that a man can go to work all day and not be forced to feel guilty, but if I blog for 2,3, 4 hours a day, I am a horrible mother – that was said sarcastically – I know my blogging has been out of control, but it isn’t as if I entirely ignore the kids) I know I need to find a blogging balance in my life. I do not plan to give up completely, I will just try to blog when no one is watching. HA!

Second, we are awaiting the second round of bar results that will be out this Friday. Things are a little hectic at our house at the moment. Even though we try to forget about it, it seems we are counting down every second.

So in honor of hopeful positive bar results, here is a link to a great news story. When and if LG ever gets a job beyond legal clerk, it will be nice to know that he can sue his boss, and not be fired for doing so. HA HA!

What I think

After scribbit.blogspot.com, I have two favorites from New York Times’ Top 10 Motherhood Blogs.

fussy.org and notesfromthetrenches.com (My disclaimer here, I don’t know if these blogs will stay Conservative friendly – they seemed so today)

My two least fav’s:

5minutesformom.com and parenthacks.com (Again, you all know that I hate it when people can ONLY talk about their children and/or parenting products – aren’t we all humans before we are parents? – why don’t you people write a little about that?)

The two that I won’t read again for the same reason I won’t read dooce (too foul)

izzymom.com and suburbanbliss.net (I try to be tolerant, but I just can’t stand in when people take the Lord’s name in vain – I mean if you talk like that, then it is your problem, but it is not mine unless I listen to it)

This is just my preference, you all may feel totally different about it. I know a lof of my blogging friends love designmom.com, but I don’t really care for her either…I just can’t make myself care about all that worldly stuff. Maybe when I move up a class from low to middle.