boys will be boys

Just days away from his 6th birthday, Finn continues to provide constant comic relief for us all.  Last weekend, he had a friend over and they were all playing in the "ditch".  No, it's not really a ditch, but a ravine that runs perpendicular to our street just one house away.  They of course call it a ditch though, to anyone who'll listen, and I'm continually concerned that people think I let my child play in a murky mud puddle alongside a busy road.  However, I digress.

So, Finn and his buddies, two from the street and one from the other side of the neighborhood, were playing in the ditch.  It's like their own little world of forest.  Over the years, the boys have built a fort in there, and to be honest, I've never gone to see it.  They've never borrowed wood or tools, so I'm assuming it's just a natural structure built from whatever they could find in the ravine.  After a day full of ditch-loving fun, it was time to take his buddy home, who lives several blocks away.

As we got in the car, Finn's pal said, "There's pee on my sweatshirt."

"There's what on your sweatshirt?" I asked. "Why?"

"Well, [insert another child's name] peed on it."

"He peed on it?  Like on purpose?"

I receive two blank stares.

"What happened?  Did you two pee in the ditch?"

"No, just he did," answers Finn (the liar.)

Fast forward to our arrival at my friend's house.  I return her son, tell her what happened and to wash the sweatshirt.  Thank God she's a good friend.

Finn gets a lecture about ditch-playing and peeing outdoors on the way home, as he continues to steadfastly deny his involvement.  I am grossed out that my child is playing where people are peeing.

Fast forward a few days and we're at a school function with the friends who own the peed-on sweatshirt.  They inform me that their honest son immediately cracked under the pressure and said all four of the boys peed in the ditch, not just the one.  I can't wait to get Finn home.

And when I do, I learn that the ingenious little tikes have built a fort that actually has a bathroom in it.  And they all use it.  Regularly.

-------

One more of the road.

Last night Finn says, "You know what my friend says?  He says, "Ball-SSSS" and then, "Get it?""  He chuckles.

And I say, "What do you mean?  What does he mean by that?"

And he says, "Why don't YOU know, Mom?"  He appears shocked by my ignorance.

I sit like a deer in headlights and Mike laughs hysterically, making a joke that involves the word "nuts".  Yes, this is helpful.

Boys will be boys.

the last bowl

I've been dreading its demise for weeks as I washed it and noticed the cracks becoming more and more apparent.  Just as the bowl's heyday moves further and further away in the rear view mirror, its existence has been threatening to do the same.  When I removed it from the dishwasher (what was I thinking?) this morning, I noticed that a few bits of food remained post-washing.  While cleaning it by hand, I saw the death-crack.  Not another chink in the armor, but a life-ending, through-and-through crack from one end to the center of the bowl.  Crud.

You see, this bowl is the last of its kind from another lifetime, a million years ago, when everything was different and all that's happened was only a dream yet to unfold.  It once belonged to a set of four Pottery Barn bowls that seems almost silly to be obsessing over, but it is so significant as a constant reminder of that special point in time.

The beautiful blonde that we met on a hot and steamy Tampa day, wearing grassy heels and cut off shorts became a partner for endless fun, our mother figure far from home and a cherished friend.  We talk to her far too seldom and have seen her even less in the last 12 years, but she's on our mind often.  Miss Debbie Carter gave us our bowls and at the time, I think they were the nicest thing Mike and I owned.  We ate nearly every meal from them and they made us feel cool, you know, Pottery Barn classy, even in our much-loved $350 per month rental house, where we barely made ends meet.

Three of our bowls were gone about four years ago; dropped or knocked off the table's edge by a playful toddler or an excited dog's tail.  But this last one, it hung on.  Until now, I've used it daily to house my giant lunch salad - it sits perfectly in my hand as I catch up on emails.  To learn it had served its purpose for the last time brought tears to my eyes.  As one of the few remaining talismans from such a memorable time in our lives, it will surely be missed. 

I know it must seem ridiculous.  But isn't it really the little things that make us who we are?  I'd never miss a piece of our china, which has been used only once in 15 years.  This bowl is a sign of where we once were, where we hoped to go, who we hoped to be and how far we've come.

It represents THIS time in our lives, which sometimes seems so long ago and at other times:  just like yesterday.

It's the definition of memorabilia and even though I'm not a saver, you can bet this chipped and pitted remnant will be placed in a box somewhere, only to be uncovered by my children or grandchildren someday.

"Why in the world would she save this?" they'll ask.

And if I'm not around to tell them, maybe my blog will.

the right folks at the right time

I recently read somewhere that in order to welcome the right situations and people into your life at the right times, you've got to say "yes" as often as possible.  For this homebody, saying "yes" is sometimes a challenge, but hindsight and wisdom get me out the door even when my tired bod says "no."

That being said, I jumped at the chance to get together with respected friend and colleague, Patti Minglin, CEO of Go Girl Communications, at a recent meeting.  In the midst, I finally met my amazing Chicago Parent editor, Alena Murguia, who I've known - only virtually - for more than four years.  What a morning - two writing mentors, coffee and lots of laughs!  I can't tell you how much fun it was to hash out creative ideas with a group that extended beyond me, myself and I.  What's more, the meeting ended with a serious take-away for me - a big time lecture regarding my lackadaisical attitude about self-promotion.

It's ironic that I put myself out into the world, my naked words alone on pages and screens all over the U.S., and never think a thing of it.  Conversely, I can barely contemplate sharing these same articles and columns with those that frequent my social media networks.  Every day I advise clients to use social media to their advantage, to extend their customer bases and further establish their brand through Twitter, Facebook, blogs and more.  Some serious soul-searching has left me with a realization:  rejection from those closest to me might just be my ultimate fear, but putting myself out there might just be the most trusting endeavor of my life.  Not only is it an opportunity for career growth, but for enormous personal growth, too.

With the help of technology, the stern words of wise friends and a healthy dose of courage, I am turning the proverbial page.  I know what I want and I intend to get it.  The time is now.  Much gratitude to Alena and Patti for the words I needed to hear.

I am currently reading The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho.  While I've barely gotten into it, the message is already ringing clear.  The old king says to the boy in search of his Personal Legend, "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

I believe that's true.  And when you combine 'want' with 'effort' while focused on your passion?

Success is the only possible outcome. Look out world!

 

parenting hall of fame

Mike and I were surely inducted into the Parenting Hall of Fame in the wee hours of this morning.  You see, after a weekend full of painting Logan's room, we had finally gotten all the furniture back in place, blinds and valances back up and the finishing touches done.  Anyone who knows my husband understands that this was not a weekend project, but instead hours of woodworking efforts, patching and sanding over the last several weeks, all aimed at perfection.  And when it was done it was pretty darn close.

So at midnight, smack inside a very deep sleep, I thought I was dreaming that someone was saying my name. But then I heard it again and slowly climbed my way out of those comfy depths, and I as I neared consciousness, I knew that something unsavory awaited me.

Boy was I right.

Poor Logan, who ate Chicken Marsala off the adult menu at Carrabbas last night and loved it, obviously had overdone it.  And awaking abruptly, herself, to the feeling of severe nausea in her loft bed, she was unable to get out in time.  Her attempts to escape to the bathroom failed spectacularly and the ENTIRE room paid the price. I cannot explain the scene I walked into and I won't even try.  I'll only say that the freshly painted walls, couch, blinds, carpet and all her bedding were not spared.  And after two hours of cleaning efforts throughout the night, the carpet cleaners are coming tomorrow.

Mike said it best, "Of all the childhood bodily fluids we've had to deal with, this is by far the worst ever!"

And I agree.  Hence much Internet research on where we can buy airplane vomit bags and our self-prescribed induction to the Parenting Hall of Fame.  After this, there's no denying that we deserve it!

just in time for mother's day

I am 40 years old.  I have seen a lot of commercials in my 40 years, but not as many lately with the invention of the DVR.  I speed through them now with my remote control teleportation device that delivers me, virtually wait-free, to the next scene I feel deserves my attention.  For all the advertisements that I refuse to give my time to, I am so grateful I watched this one.  This one, I believe, is as good as it gets.

This Olympic-inspired ode to moms from Proctor & Gamble's Thank You Mom campaign is quite literally the best advertisement I've ever seen.  Since watching it in its entirety yesterday, I've found myself thinking about it non-stop.  I've re-watched it several times.  I have posted it on Facebook, shown it to my husband and discussed it with friends.  I have forwarded it to my young daughters' email addresses with a note that read:

Dear Logan and Riley,


In case you ever wonder, this is exactly what it feels like to be a Mom.  And it has nothing to do with sports!


I love you guys!
Mommy

You might think I'm promoting this video because it depicts tiny Olympian hopefuls doing the sports my children love and arriving at the ultimate prize.  And I do like that part, but you'd be wrong.  I love this advert because I think it speaks about motherhood at it's very core.  It captures the absolute essence of this oftentimes thankless and all-times exhausting role.  It physically moves me and rattles at the cage that holds my biggest question, "Am I doing this job right?"   And through my audible gasps for breath and tears falling to the keyboard, it answers: "Yes." 

This video is about the Olympics, something I truly love and for which I am incredibly excited.  But it's also not about sports at all.  It's about the Olympian in every child and the unique successes, that as parents, we'll softly urge them onto, while we watch with baited breath and hearts bursting with hope.  And when they reach their milestone moments, whether they occur at a kitchen table, a graduation ceremony, the end of an aisle, in front of a camera, or on top of a podium, we will be there.  For some of us, only in spirit, for other lucky ones, in a corner or in the stands, out of the limelight, still gently urging them forward, and then reveling in how they stand on their own.

I already knew this job was a blessing, but thanks P & G for reminding just how blessed I truly am.  If you haven't seen it, please watch.  And then forward it on to others who need to see it, too.

Oh, and by the way, this speaks to more than just us Moms.  I'm quite certain Dad's feel the same way, too.  Can't wait to see what P & G delivers for Father's Day!

what i've got

I've talked about it here, in my column and other places I write:  you must love what you've got.  I really believe that it's the secret to life.  That being said, life doesn't always make it easy.  We all have constant curve balls coming our way, making our vision blurry and our thoughts collide.  But then something, anything, sets us straight again on the path we're meant to be.  For me, that path is loving what I've got.

The more time I spend with my family; wait - the more unencumbered time I spend with my family - the easier it is to stay on the path.  This weekend, even with holiday busyness, we had some time to just hang out and be a family.  For me these truly are the best of times.  And yes, the kids argued about silly things.  One threw a fit when a playroom sleepover was abruptly terminated.  Another fought the first of two annual attempts to get the child to wear clothing other than sweats.  The third stomped and sighed in shock when we had the audacity to request bed-making and wet towel pick up.  They're kids.

They're kids that frustrate me at times and push my buttons like no other humans could.  They're kids that shock me in both good and bad ways.  They're kids that make me cry hard and laugh harder.  They're kids for which I worry tirelessly, pray so hard and dream beyond imagination.  They make me beam with pride and ache with exhaustion.  They are our kids and for all their human faults, man do they deliver on joy.  Seeing them this weekend, dressed in their Sunday best and making me proud at every turn, I realized that all that matters is right now and loving right now.

I surely do love what I've got. 

laudery winnings

Talking about what we'd do with $640 million in lottery winnings was a highlight of our weekend.  I doubt the kids really even knew what the lottery was before the Mega Millions jackpot grew so large that they were hearing about it everywhere.  In an attempt to kill the hour drive to the city on Friday, we talked about what we'd do with a potential windfall.

There was lots of generosity and philanthropy.  Life would get better for everyone we love, for sure.  We would build a huge, luxurious lake house somewhere beautiful and warm and another somewhere mountainous and think seriously about where we wanted to live full-time.   Jobs would be quit and dream jobs would be created.  World travels would commence.  Financial worries would be a thing of the past.

I commented to Mike how funny it was that the kids threw out a few ideas, but didn't have the same intensity that we did in planning out our ideal financial life. It made us feel good that whether things are tight or not, they don't feel financial pressure, or at least not for too long.

Lately though, Riley has been paying more attention to how much things cost.  It's like, when I give them an idea of how expensive things are and try to help grow the roots of sound financial decision-making, she's the only one who actually hears me.  She thinks about it.

At the end of the day on Friday, just before the big drawing, we stopped to buy some tickets.  The girls were excited and even though we assured them that it was just for fun, they wanted to go in with me.  While we waited in the long line, I noticed that Riley's fingers, all of them, were crossed.  They were both a bit giddy, kind of jumping up and down.  I reminded them that the chances were EXTREMELY low that we'd win and Riley blurted out loudly, "But I want to move to Hollywood!"

Everyone in line burst out laughing.

"Listen, even if we win, we're not moving to Hollywood!" I jokingly answered.

"Alright then, North Carolina!!" she responded with her best Groucho Marx eye brow raises.

Needless to say, we didn't win.  But it took Riley a few days to believe in our loss.  On Sunday morning, she raced out to get the newspaper and compare our numbers with the ones in the paper.  Finally, she got it.  Not this time.  But what enthusiasm!  What confidence that the future holds great things!  They all have that and I love it.  And I have it, too.

After the loss sunk in, Riley sneaked over to my phone and texted Mike at the gym.

"We won the laudery, Mike!" she wrote.

"What's that?  A windfall of dirty laundry?" he responded.  (Um, when it comes to winning, we've got that category covered!)