Sunday, December 19, 2010

Confession #4: My mind is twisted.

Now, if you know me, this is not surprising to hear me profess.  I am a little bit crazy.  Hopefully it doesn't evolve into something "institution-like," but I'm not ruling out anything.  (especially when I'm in the kitchen running my mixer, the sink in the water, listening to a football game being viewed too loudly, a crying baby, and two whining kids asking for a snack)

Okay, so here is the reason I am crazy and twisted:  I consider doing things that are inexcusable by society and would love to be able to execute them sometimes without a guilty conscience.

1.  Run errands in my robe.
2.  Lock my children in their rooms for an entire day.
3.  Organize every single family member's closet by color (Okay, this one has already been done.)
4.  Not strap my kids into their car seats.  What a pain in the ass they are!
5.  Just serve my children cookies for every meal until they run out.  One batch would go a long way!
6.  Put a bow in Quinn's hair and take him out in public.
7.  Refuse to make my child lunch to avoid delaying naptime any longer.
8.  Wrap the kids (the older two at least) in bubble wrap and roll them down the stairs.
9.  Buy them the annoyingly loud toys they ask for....just to make them happy.
10.  Not sign my child up for any organized sport, activity, or lesson just to keep life 'simple.'
11.  Enter a child into a beauty pageant contest....just to see what would happen.
12.  Refuse to pick up after anyone for an entire week.
13.  Run out of gas just to see who would come to my rescue on the side of the road.
14.  Say "yes" to everything my children wanted for a day....just to see what would happen.
15.  Send myself on a vacation for a weekend....just pack my bags and go with a kiss goodbye to my husband.  Oh, I don't even know where I'd go!

Those are the things, the thoughts, the general wonderings that cross my mind during the course of a typical week (or so).  Some of them I would truly consider doing, and might do, if I knew no one would find out.  What have you ever considered doing that would be frowned upon or considered to be a violation of wifely or parental rules?  Please leave comments so I know I'm not alone!!!!

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Confession #3: Blameshifting 101

I blog to you from the comfort of my leather recliner....sporting nothing other than my beloved walking pants....completely ignoring the huge piles of laundry that need to be put revel in the calm of the dark morning while basking in the glow of the Christmas tree lights.  Ahhh....this is the stay-at-home trophy wife life!

Here we go on Confession #3:  I am raising successful blameshifters.  I'm doing a mighty fine job of it, too.  I continually marvel at the top-notch ability levels of my older two children to never hold themselves accountable for their behaviors.  The baby is just in her apprentice-level phase of life, but I have no doubt that she will excel at this skill as well.

Every situation plays out like this:

Me:  Why is this stool in the pantry?
L:  Q did it.
Q:  I din' do it.  L did it.
L:  NO I DIDN'T!!!!!!!!  Q did it.  He wanted to get the cookies down from the shelf, so he scooted it in here, and I just happened to fall on the said stool and accidentally grab down the bag of cookies that we've now been covertly devouring for the past twenty minutes.  But Q is the one who brought the stool to the pantry, so I didn't do it.
Me:  *sigh*

I sat back to think about why my children absolutely cannot fess up to what they did anymore.  First and foremost, they don't want the fall-out of being the one who committed the various offenses.  They know that my husband and I believe in consequences, and they will do anything (including lying???) to avoid getting into trouble.  Secondly, they have learned this awesome skill of blameshifting from their loving, adoring parents.

Think about it.  When you're lucky enough to shuffle your kid off to preschool for awesome learning experiences, we consequently learn how to blame everyone else's kids for various unwanted behaviors.

"L has started lying about things.  Must be the kids at preschool.  I never lie about anything."
"Q has started biting kids.  Must be learning that from someone else's kid."
"L has become more of a smart-aleck than I would like.  I am never a smart-mouth to anyone."
"Q and L think shouting, 'POOPY-TOOTY' is funny.  Must be the kids at preschool." (Hell, that shit is funny.)

How is it that we would never just attribute it to the fact that it's just what kids do?  How is it that we never think of ourselves as role models for negative behaviors, but only the positive ones?  It seems to me that the only time I truly want to take credit for the things my kids do is when it's something that would be considered admirable or amazing.  No more Blameshifting 101 here.....just Credit-Taking 101.

For example, at last night's Christmas program, the woman who owns the preschool said that she asked the kids in L's class, "What do you love most about Christmas?"  She said that most kids said that presents were their favorite things.  She said, in front of everyone at the program, "L's answer melted my heart.  She said, 'It's my favorite holiday, and we celebrate baby Jesus.'"  I was so proud to hear that! 

Guess who I patted on the back first?  Myself.  My husband.  Then, in a brilliant revelation, I realized that maybe my kid is just a good kid all on her own, too.  So I reached down and gave her a great big hug and told her I was proud of her.  I realized that the only time I need to "blame" her for anything from now on is when she does the right thing.  Suddenly, whoever put the stool in the pantry doesn't matter so much anymore.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Confession #2: Yoga? I don't do yoga.

Me -- cruising through Target with two kids in tow.
Random Stranger Woman (RSW) -- "Oh, where do you do yoga?" 
Me -- "Yoga?"
RSW -- "Yes, you're wearing yoga pants.  I figured you'd just gotten done with downward facing dog. Hee hee."
Me -- "I don't do yoga.  I just am a fan of their pants.  Yogettes really know how to live in comfort."
RSW -- "Oh....sorry to have bothered you."
Me -- (thinking to myself) "Maybe I should have lied....she might have been cool to hang out with...."

Here's a secret about me that I don't really keep to myself:  I thank God each day when I pray that Old Navy makes yoga pants.  Now that they have introduced their new 'walking pants' that have pockets, I truly am living a blissful life around my house and around the town.  Finally, somewhere to put the little things I can't carry in my hands without being spotted by my children (i.e. a little handful of M&M's)!!

What I have learned about the aforementioned pants is that you truly can wear them anywhere in this town without getting funny looks or feeling out of place.  I wear them to Target, my daughter's preschool, QuikTrip, upstairs, downstairs, and have even worn them to the circus (masquerading as dress pants!).  How many pants do you have that rock that same level of versatility?  Not many, I'm sure.  Jeans just don't have the same comfort level as the stretchy material of the yoga/walking pant.

The point of this blog?  There absolutely isn't one.  I just had to give homage to my favorite pants and let you know that they have made life as a stay-at-home trophy wife one that just wouldn't be complete without the right mixture of cotton and lycra.  In fact, I'm going to go put some on right now, and we'll see if that just doesn't make the day seem a little bit brighter.....or a little bit stretchier at least.


Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Confession #1: Fear Follows Me.

I have recently joined the ranks of mother of three children.  I never saw myself as a member of this group, but now that I am, I am overjoyed.  It's an amazing thing to sit down at the end of the day, look at your blossoming brood, and think, "Wow!  They didn't kill me today!"

My first confession is that I see the looks on other people's faces when I enter stores, restaurants, playplaces, etc. with my little trio of fun, and I acknowledge their fear.  They see that I am grossly outnumbered, and I can see them getting all judgey and frightened.  They presume that my children will destroy said locations.  Guess what....I wonder the same damn thing.  I have a sassy (but sweet) five-year-old, a volatile (but hilarious) two-year-old, and a two-month-old (who goes from 0 to 60 in two seconds flat).  I never have ANY idea how these little ones will act, and I fear them myself, too.  I try to present a calm demeanor to not let on the fact that I am terrified that these kids might be little shits in the aisles, booth, or jungle gym.  I just cross my fingers and hope for the best....each and every time.  To be honest, when we leave the location having experienced WWIII-sized meltdowns, I am not surprised.  When we leave, and all has gone well, I am given the false sense of hope that every trip in public will be as pleasant and that we should try this again.....oh, I am continually so naive.

The other part of this confession is that I can also decode what your words means when you say them.  I leave the house on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with only two children.  People look at me, cock their heads to the side, and say, "OHHHH, how a-DOR-a-ble....."  They think two children is acceptable and cute as heck.  When people see me on Tuesday and Thursday with all three, this is the comment I get, "Wow, you really have your hands full!"  This translates to, "WTH are you overpopulating the Earth....and taking that crap out into public???"  I guess I do have my hands full, but when I look down, all I see is a car seat on my arm and two little hands holding mine, and I realize I'd rather have my hands full than empty.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Welcome to My World!

Being a stay-at-home mom/trophy wife is very, very rewarding most days, but it has its moments.  Those moments are when I glance at the clock and see it's 1:45 p.m, and then glance down and see I'm wearing my yoga pants for the tenth day in a row.  There are typically drops of food and spit-up on them that become the map of meals eaten over the past week.  The days are numerous when I run my tongue over my chompers and realize it's been 24 hours since I've brushed my teeth.  *Just a note that the title 'trophy wife' is complete sarcasm.  One day I looked in the mirror and was really taken aback at how crappy I looked, and so I call myself that as a reminder that life is funny.

However, life is good.  The days I wake up to my daughter cooing in the crib are priceless.  Hearing my son say, "Tankoo," when I tell him I love him is priceless.  Looking at my eldest daughter's eyes light up when she realizes it's a day to stay home with her mom and siblings is priceless.  I wouldn't change my life's decisions for a single second....not a one.

Now the thing about this blog is that it's being written with the intent of being my creative outlet, but I guarantee nothing but utmost honesty.  It's going to sound cruel some days and saccharin sweet others.  You might get mad at my brutal observations, but I don't give a damn.  This is my blog.  These are my thoughts.  You don't have to read them.  I hope you do.  I hope you can relate.  I hope you can feel a connection to me, even though you might not know who I am.  If not, just keep your opinions to yourself....I have a five and two year old, and their opinions are enough for me.