Small Beggars

All day long, small needy people are begging at me - for food, money, toys, stories, attention, etc. They live in my house, eat my food, and spend my money. They do not contribute to the household except to deplete supplies and destroy property. They are demanding, needy and high maintenance. We provide them with food, shelter, clothing. We meet their basic needs and then some. In return, we get to referee arguments and battles, enforce bathing and sleep. They do not listen to reason or logic. They are slowly taking over the house and wearing down my patience. We do not charge for rent, utilities or food. We are being held prisoner in our own home. I'm thinking of parking them on my driveway with a tin cup and woeful expression.

Plausible Deniabilty

Ever received a phone call about your child and uttered the phrase "not my child!"? Well, I haven't. I keep an open mind. I assume the parent dreads making the call as much as I dread receiving it. So, when a friend emailed me to inform me that Sara had cursed at recess, I believed her and had a long talk about language. I have had to make 2 such phone calls in my life. One was when a younger girl was bad mouthing Sara on the bus. I checked around, verified the story with a couple other parents and called the mother. She immediately explained that her daughter does not have a mean bone in her body and would never say anything negative about anyone ever. Move over, Jesus. There is a new saint in town. Ironically, the teasing stopped after the phone call. The other call was made tonight. A former classmate of Sara has taken her bullying show on the road. Not satisfied with attempting to ostracize Sara at school, she is attempting to alienate neighbor kids as well. We politely asked that their child keep out of Sara's friendships and maybe not badmouth her to others. Silly us. We forgot how perfect and flawless their child is. Wouldn't you know, without even checking into the story, the mom flat out denied it. I have news for you, lady. We dreaded making the phone call. We should have made the phone call months ago the first time we heard this was going on. We foolishly thought grownups would be reasonable. No such luck. Luckily, the girls seem to be able to rise above this nonsense and choose their own friends. I don't want to turn our suburban neighborhood into the Sharks and Jets but I'm not going to let my kid be bullied anymore.

Mean Girl

Today was, thankfully, the last day of school. Sara will start 4th grade at a new school. We are all very excited about this for a number of reasons. Not least of all is that we will finally be done with the resident "mean girl". Hard to imagine but even on the last day of school, she had to be mean, petty and go out of her way to hurt Sara's feelings. Today the kids received their yearbooks. Everyone was required to sign all the yearbooks to avoid hurt feelings. Big fail. Immediately after Sara signed mean girl's yearbook, she erased it, crossed out EVERY photo of Sara in her yearbook and told her she has done this to every yearbook she has received since Sara arrived in first grade. Hard to imagine how you raise a child to believe that is acceptable behavior. We will not be crossing out anyone's photo in our house. We are taking the high road. I wish no ill on this child but I cannot be nicer than that. I think her parents are raising a mean, selfish, spoiled, rude child. I just pray for the next girl on her "mean girl" list. I speak from experience, it was a long, terrible school year, in part because of this child. But, no longer will my child come home in tears because a classmate has yelled at, belittled, gossiped about, excluded, mocked and picked on her. Maybe the next girl's parents will be more effective at stopping the behavior. I wish them luck because they and their daughter will need it.

My Very Own Circus

Lately, I've been seeing many similarities between my life and circus life. My life is loud, messy and colorful. Small, entertaining people wearing colorful costumes are the stars the show. They are always putting on an act - with or without animals. They sing, dance, juggle, swing and jump from things. I like to think I am the ring leader but we all know their training is seriously lacking. My car is like a clown car - lots of people and their junk crammed into it and driving around in circles. And, until my almost 4 year old decided to be potty-trained, I spent a lot of my time cleaning up poop. Way too much junk food is consumed. And it is always feeding time. I am the ring leader, juggler and tightrope walker. I am always balancing my parenting. I need to be firm but fair, opened-minded but authoritative, strict but fun, encouraging but not indulgent. I need to be mom, nurse, taxi driver, teacher, guide, cruise director, disciplinarian, referee, cook, and maid. Welcome to my circus. It's the greatest show on Earth. Take a ringside seat, enjoy the show and watch out for poop.

My Bedtime Story

Here is my ideal bedtime story: "One evening, after dinner, a mother called out to her 2 well-behaved, obedient children that is was bedtime. Quietly and quickly, the children put away their toys, went upstairs, brushed their teeth and put on their pajamas. They waited eagerly in their beds for a bedtime story. Snuggling together under a soft blanket with a child on each side, the mother read a bedtime story. When the story was over, she kissed the kids, turned out their lights, closed their doors and they quickly fell asleep." What can I say? I like fiction. Here is bedtime at my house - give several warnings that bedtime is approaching and toys must be cleaned up. All reminders and warnings are ignored. Toys are scattered across every square inch of floor, counter and furniture. The last warning is given. The kids have the nerve to look at me in astonishment that I expect them to clean up their toys and get ready for bed. Now comes the stalling and delaying portion of the bedtime ritual. Suddenly (miraculously) they are consumed by an overwhelming and irresistible urge to clean up toys, clear and wash dishes, mop the floor, take the trash out, rotate my tires and replace any burned out light bulbs. Then they suddenly realize they are famished and dehydrated. They will, they assure me, die overnight if they are not fed and watered one more time. No reasonable parent could expect them to survive an entire 10 hours without more food. Next on their hidden agenda is an attention to oral hygiene rarely seen outside a dentist office. Brushing, flossing, rinsing consume more time than taking the bar exam or giving birth. Sleepwear selection is another study in attention-to-detail. Goldilocks was more decisive. 2 piece or 1 piece? Long or short? Too warm to not warm enough? Too snug, too loose or just right? Story selection takes longer than reading Shakespeare's Tempest. Blanket and stuffed animal arrangement is an elaborate chess game that would put Bobby Fisher to shame. Bedtime comes every night without fail. The expectations placed on my children involve peeing, brushing, putting on pajamas and reading a book. Sara has been doing this for 8 years. Christian has been experiencing this sacred ritual for almost 4 years. I don;t throw them any curve balls. The expectations do not change. So why does this come as a rude awakening to them every night? I cannot wait until they have children of their own. I am going to feed those children cappuccino, Twinkies and read them a Stephen King novel.

Tempest In A Teapot

Apparently the perfect child DOES exist. She doesn't live in my house, rest assured. She is a classmate of Sara's and never does anything wrong. Never says the wrong thing. Never makes a mistake. She is always right and perfect. And she feels the need and right to lecture Sara at every turn. When they were fighting over playing with a mutual friend, Sara suggested they both walk away and play with other people because they were making their friend uncomfortable, she grabbed Sara's wrist and screamed in her face. Sara got frightened and ran away. Smart kid. When she decided that Sara was annoying her on the bus by humming she announced to all around Sara was "annoying and she will punish her". Sara quietly informed her that fellow classmates are not in charge and cannot punish one another. She has mocked Sara all year long for everything and anything. Nothing Sara does is right or acceptable in her eyes. The kids are mounting Shakespeare's "Tempest"

at school. Costumes are the student's choice and interpretation. The teacher wisely informed all that we do not need to run out and rent a Broadway gown (Sorry, dad). Sara picked out her favorite dress and borrowed a pair of fairy wings. She was yelled at by her classmate/ruler and told her costume was all wrong. Upset and confused, she came to me asking for a new costume. I showed her the teacher's email about costumes and reminded her again that the teacher is the one and only boss in the classroom. Reassured that she is not letting the class or teacher down, she strapped on her wings and pranced off to school. Today she came home with another story of her gross incompetence in the eyes of her classmate. They were told to share a cloak. Sara was excited because she got to try on a new costume. Not living in Shakespearean times, she has never worn a "cloak" before. She made the fatal mistake of putting in on wrong - backwards, inside out, upside down, I don't know. This girl jumped on this error like I would on a piece of chocolate cake. She screeched like a howler monkey repeatedly about Sara's fashion error. Sara apologized and remedied the situation. But, this girl followed Sara around "lecturing" her. I again reminded Sara that the teacher is in charge and no one else can lecture her. Then Sara asked me the question she has asked all year long. "Why doesn't she like me, no matter what I do or say? Why does she hate me so much?" There is no answer. I explained (again) that some people simply do not get along. That is the way of the world. Sara is not perfect. She has her fair share of problems relating to and getting along with the kids in her class. But she cannot do anything right in this kid's eyes. For months Sara tried to be friends with her. She tried changing to suit this girl. No success. Finally with only 2 days left in 3rd grade, Sara has recognized that there is no solution. This girl simply does not like Sara. That is her choice. But, I would love to know how this kid got it in her head that she is perfect, better than everyone else and has the right to behave this way to her classmates? Thankfully we have made the decision to switch schools next year. After 3 years of trying to get our child to fit in and watching her be bullied, excluded and picked on, we have come to the realization that she simply does not fit in at that school. She has had 3 fabulous and amazing teachers who have gone out of their way over and over to help Sara overcome her social challenges. Being the youngest child in the class is just too hard on her. We are hoping that a new environment with a mixed age class will be a better fit. I know that she won't like everyone and not everyone will like her but I just hope and pray that she is treated with respect at her new school. I also hope that she learns from this experience and treats others with respect as well. We have worked very hard with Sara to get her to understand her role in her relationships with classmates. She has gotten better about being stubborn and wanting only her way. She has matured this year. We have never pretended that she is perfect or blameless. As people who have lived with her for 8.3 years, we know her faults, strengths and weaknesses. We know we are not raising a perfect child. She will make mistakes. She will learn from them. We believe in natural consequences. She needs to be aware of and accept accountability for her misdeeds. We assume that she is at least 50% to blame when there is a conflict with a friend or classmate. She has learned to accept responsibility for her words and actions. She has been punished when she was unkind to someone. She has written apology letters for negative words and actions. Maybe she will learn from these experiences. Maybe some good will come from it. Maybe she will remember how she felt and never treat others that way. Maybe she will learn compassion, respect, patience and tolerance. I know she is not (gasp) perfect. But she is perfectly Sara.

American Parenting & Decorating

All over the news there are stories about the inferior quality and nature of American parenting. We are lazy and too indulgent, etc. The French are better at it. The Chinese are better at it. Basically, any animal in the animal kingdom is better at parenting than us silly Americans. Phew! I am relieved that I can finally blame my sub-standard parenting on my nationality instead of myself. I surfer from a perpetual infe

riority complex. Everyone I meet is smarter, funnier, prettier, thinner, a better wife, mother, daughter, etc. So, imagine my relief when I discover that my parenting is no worse than any other ugly American perents'. Of course, I learned of my tragic parenting flaws while surfing the web (and neglecting my children, of course). Maybe if I slap a beret on my kids, sit in a cafe and let them smoke cigarettes, drink cafe and vino all day, they will be better children. Or maybe I should make them spend all day mastering their Chinese characters while sipping ancient herbal teas. I already doubt myself as a parent every waking (and most sleeping) moments of every day. Now I have to worry about other countries thinking I am a bad parent? Maybe it's a lack of proper Feng Shui in my home. But, let's face it. I have 2 children running around my Feng-less Shui-less abode. Any rearranging of the elements of my home is done by small children or for their safety. Or my sanity. My house is still baby proofed even though my youngest is almost 4. I still have a bumper guards around my coffee table but more for my sake than his. I got tired of banging my shins on it's razor sharp edges. He learned to skirt around it before he was 18 months old. I have owned the table for 12 years and still bang my knees and shin on it most nights. My Feng Shui is battered and bruised. My couch is misaligned and lets the energy flow out of the room but offers a great view of the TV. And the couch still has pee pads on it on the off chance that my son forgets that he is potty trained. I am OK with the flow of energy. There is more than enough energy flowing through my house while my kids are awake. The ancient Eastern decorating technique/philosophy isn't exactly convenient or practical in my Midwestern home. My philosophy is simple. Can the kids destroy it? Will it hold up to whatever crazy game they invent? Can they injure themselves on it or with it? Is it easy to clean or fix? The energy may flow right out the front door but at least my kids can't run out the front door unsupervised. As for wind chimes to enhance the creativity in my home, do I really need more of my kids' wacky ideas? One kid wants his best friend to live in our bathtub. The other kid thinks mommy should get an apartment nearby so she can finally have a pet. See what I am up against here? Besides, how on earth can anyone find something whose sole purpose in life is to make noise enjoyable? How is that supposed to bring me serenity, harmony and peace? A quiet house is my dream. Listening to some pipes bang together in a rhythmic metallic clanking sounds like torture to me. My kids and their toys make enough noise. Thank you. There is also a belief about the placement of a mirror in the bedroom and it letting your soul float out of your body and scare itself. Ok, of the things that scare me at night in my bedroom, some invisible version of me haunting myself doesn't even rank in the top ten. My kids bursting in at 2a.m. in a quest for a lost beloved stuffed animal or vomit covered, my husband setting off the burglar alarm accidentally, a random bug or insect - these things scare me. My kids have their own version of Feng Shui going in our house. Sara's philosophy is to keep everything she has ever owned or been given. She is a hoarder. And she prefers to keep everything out in plain sight rather than waste valuable time searching for things. She leans more towards the "more is better" style. Christian likes to organize and group things according to some system only he understands. Again, all toys, games and books must be visible at all times. He prefers the obstacle-course style of decorating. Maybe I can convince my husband to rearrange large and heavy pieces of furniture randomly around the house to enhance my chakras, channel my inner-energy and creativity and get my chi flowing the in the right direction. Who am I kidding? Until I can convince my kids to clean up after themselves, nothing is getting rearranged in my house. My husband already believes that rearranging his junk in the garage qualifies as "cleaning out" the garage. I have pretended to fall for this for 12 years. Maybe the French and Chinese are better parents. Maybe I should slap a beret on my kid and feed him Brie. Maybe I should start feeding my kids sushi and using chopsticks. But, America is the land of the free and I get to raise my kids the way I want.