So, with school over for both kids and a long summer looming, I figured a short one-week camp for Sam would do a body good. With much fan fare and enthusiasm I talked up this environmental camp steadily as the days approached. This past Monday, enveloped in the scent of Off bug spray, Sam took off into the woods with a bunch of college kids who will likely regret this summer experience after they realize they've been bitten by a tick trying to entertain some mainliner's spoiled brat.
Anyway, I digress. On Monday afternoon I arrived to pick Sam up and he seemed happy enough climbing into the car and telling me about the toad and snake the counselors brought out for sharing time. I pressed for more and ask if he had fun. "Not really," he replied. "They make us have two circle times." Well, that's part of the fun, right? Wrong. When I tell him he has camp for four more days he groans. "I don't want to go to camp! It's too long!" True, the camp is a full day, but come on kid, you are five years old! Suck it up. It's only one week.
With my child's happiness weighing heavily on my heart I come up with an incentive. "Sam, if you finish camp and don't give me a hard time, you can get the Optimus Prime Bot Shot at the end of the week." Bingo. He is totally on board.
Tuesday brings the same reaction with some added info that some kid teased him about his name and told him he didn't want to be his friend. Now I feel really bad. I try to coax out some positive feedback, but Sam knows how to play me. Nothing. I get nothing. So, I'm left to wonder if I am the world's most selfish parent that I am making my kid go to camp from 9-3:30 just so I don't have to spend the whole day with two bickering children. Granted, it is only ONE week. But the guilt remains.
On Wednesday I suppress the guilt and pack him up for round three. He doesn't complain when we arrive, but his focus is clearly on the new toy dangling like a carrot on the proverbial stick just a few days from his grasp. "I'm getting Prime on Friday, right Mom?" Yes Sam, you are getting Prime on Friday. Out you go. Have a great time!
As I drive home from drop off I cannot get over the feeling that I have no idea what's best for my kids. Camp seemed like a good idea, but so did karate (total waste of $100), and so did swimming (another waste). And now, I'm driving 45 minutes round trip twice a day to bring him somewhere he isn't really thrilled about. And I'm bribing him to boot! WTF????
When I get home with Leo I decide that I am going to make up for my lack of insight by packing not one, but two packs of fruit snacks for Sam to have when I pick him up. The clouds part, the guilt subsides and I get on with me day. At 12:30 PM my sitter arrives to look after Leo while I get out for a bit sans kids and treat myself to a haircut. Since I don't have the kids with me there is no need for the gigantic bag I typically tote around and I relish in the lightness of carrying a real handbag into the salon instead of a plane-sized carry-on. Unfortunately, my stylist is behind and I am starting to panic that I'll have to dash mid-cut from the chair to get Sam. She assures me we have plenty of time and we do, she finishes up with just enough time for me to get there by 3:30 PM. I hurry to the car and hope there isn't any traffic. No such luck. Tiger Woods and all the other golfers have made sure of that. Panic returns and I step on the gas. Suddenly, I remember the fruit snacks! They will make up for it if I'm late I tell myself. Hmm, where are those fruit snacks? Aha, in my colossal tote!
With one hand on the wheel I fish around my bag for the snacks until I feel a soft and squishy package and my heart drops...they're WARM! Warm from being left in the hot car in my humongous bag that I wasn't carrying because I didn't want to be a mom for 40 minutes. AHHHH! One look at the warm fruit snacks and Sam is going to flip his lid like he does when his oatmeal is too hot. My "my mom is totally awesome" currency is ruined! And to top it off, I might be 2 minutes late!!!
Thinking quickly I reach out and turn the AC up all the way. I put my elbows on the steering wheel and hold the two silver packets up to the vents as I drive. This should do the trick. For the next three miles I flip the packets over to ensure even cooling and by miracle of miracles I roll up to the pick up line with a minute or two to spare and normal fruit snacks of normal temperature.
I wipe the beads of sweat from my brow as I inch up into position. I look up, see my little Sammy waiting, hold up the fruit snacks and shake them vigorously in a wild hello through the window. His face beams and he starts jumping up and down. I open the car door, and he pops in. "Are both of those for me?" You bet. "I love you Mom!"
Mission accomplished. And now for some therapy!
Friday, June 14, 2013
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Virtual Reality - emphasis on virtual
So, I have had a million and one things to write about since my last post, but one that continues to gnaw at my mind is the phenomenon of virtual reality, a.k.a. Facebook Falsies, status updates that appear awesome on the outside, but leave you questioning the authenticity of the inside.
It all started when my parents were here recently for the Easter weekend and I mentioned to my mom how everyone I know seems happier than me. She looked at me a little weird and asked, "How so?" I explained that this whole social media thing allows us into the lives of our friends and acquaintances through pictures and stories and that it just seems like everyone (well, maybe not everyone) I know has such cool stories to tell and pictures to share, etc. I mean, why would a friend post pics of her children galavanting on the slopes like a winterized version of the Swiss Family Robinson if they weren't truly having the time of their lives? Why bother? I can't remember the last time we were even able to take a family picture, let alone smile while doing it. And so I pine for the Kodak moments displayed by others and often find myself wondering, "how do they do it? How do they create these happy moments so often in their lives and what the heck am I doing wrong?"
To this my mother exclaimed,"Martha, you don't really think that's an accurate picture of their lives do you?" I thought for a moment and then answered, "Well, no, but it at least proves that they are having fun and enjoying each other's company." But does it? The truth is, these postulations are just a virtual glimpse of a likely far more complicated life. At least this is what I tell myself in order to sleep at night. I see pictures or posts of bouncing baby boys and girls with captions like, "my love," or "mommy's little love bug," and I want to throw a dirty diaper at the screen. BUT, then I remember that even I, in the throws of sleep deprivation and post partum mood swings, managed to post some uplifting pictures or make a nauseatingly joyful comment about my life, family, baby, etc. The picture most likely didn't do justice to my reality, but it was therapeutic if nothing else, a mini exercise in seeing "the good."
All in all, I've decided that these positive posts are good for the soul. Even if they don't tell the whole truth there is still truth to be told. After all, the picture of the child smiling, knee deep in sand and holding a shell he/she just found, might be the only time that child smiled during the entire beach adventure. And so, my friends, post on. If exclaiming that you love life, your children, and your husband ALL THE TIME makes you feel better, go for it. We believe you, a little. ;)
It all started when my parents were here recently for the Easter weekend and I mentioned to my mom how everyone I know seems happier than me. She looked at me a little weird and asked, "How so?" I explained that this whole social media thing allows us into the lives of our friends and acquaintances through pictures and stories and that it just seems like everyone (well, maybe not everyone) I know has such cool stories to tell and pictures to share, etc. I mean, why would a friend post pics of her children galavanting on the slopes like a winterized version of the Swiss Family Robinson if they weren't truly having the time of their lives? Why bother? I can't remember the last time we were even able to take a family picture, let alone smile while doing it. And so I pine for the Kodak moments displayed by others and often find myself wondering, "how do they do it? How do they create these happy moments so often in their lives and what the heck am I doing wrong?"
To this my mother exclaimed,"Martha, you don't really think that's an accurate picture of their lives do you?" I thought for a moment and then answered, "Well, no, but it at least proves that they are having fun and enjoying each other's company." But does it? The truth is, these postulations are just a virtual glimpse of a likely far more complicated life. At least this is what I tell myself in order to sleep at night. I see pictures or posts of bouncing baby boys and girls with captions like, "my love," or "mommy's little love bug," and I want to throw a dirty diaper at the screen. BUT, then I remember that even I, in the throws of sleep deprivation and post partum mood swings, managed to post some uplifting pictures or make a nauseatingly joyful comment about my life, family, baby, etc. The picture most likely didn't do justice to my reality, but it was therapeutic if nothing else, a mini exercise in seeing "the good."
All in all, I've decided that these positive posts are good for the soul. Even if they don't tell the whole truth there is still truth to be told. After all, the picture of the child smiling, knee deep in sand and holding a shell he/she just found, might be the only time that child smiled during the entire beach adventure. And so, my friends, post on. If exclaiming that you love life, your children, and your husband ALL THE TIME makes you feel better, go for it. We believe you, a little. ;)
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Okay, let's try this again
It's funny how even seemingly easy things become tough to accomplish when you are in the throes of raising two small boys. My extended hiatus from blogging is a result of that, but I am recommitting to it NOW.
Since my last post I've gotten really good at making excuses...I don't have anything clever to say, I don't feel inspired, I'm just too damn tired. The truth is, I still feel this way, BUT, I finally see this blog for what it is and should be...a vehicle to my sanity and my family's well being.
The last two years have been quite a ride. In short: Leo came on the scene, we all painfully adjusted to life as a family of four, I had to see a shrink for crippling anxiety, and Frank had to keep his sh*% together so that I could periodically fall apart. Where are we now? Well, Leo is two, Sam is five (in a week and a half), I am still falling apart periodically, and Frank is still keeping his sh*% together for the sake of our family.
Are we happy? Sometimes yes and sometimes no. But, at the end of every great/horrible/exhausting/hysterical day, I get to kiss two healthy children and one hardworking papa goodnight. That's something. And it is from this vantage point that I recommit to this blogging thing.
If love is a lunch box, then I am going to write about what's in it, even if it is bologna on cheap white bread with the crusts still on.
Since my last post I've gotten really good at making excuses...I don't have anything clever to say, I don't feel inspired, I'm just too damn tired. The truth is, I still feel this way, BUT, I finally see this blog for what it is and should be...a vehicle to my sanity and my family's well being.
The last two years have been quite a ride. In short: Leo came on the scene, we all painfully adjusted to life as a family of four, I had to see a shrink for crippling anxiety, and Frank had to keep his sh*% together so that I could periodically fall apart. Where are we now? Well, Leo is two, Sam is five (in a week and a half), I am still falling apart periodically, and Frank is still keeping his sh*% together for the sake of our family.
Are we happy? Sometimes yes and sometimes no. But, at the end of every great/horrible/exhausting/hysterical day, I get to kiss two healthy children and one hardworking papa goodnight. That's something. And it is from this vantage point that I recommit to this blogging thing.
If love is a lunch box, then I am going to write about what's in it, even if it is bologna on cheap white bread with the crusts still on.
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