The Rest of the Story

So, the other day I realized I have a ridiculous amount of parenting books. I can't even bring myself to type the number. Combine an avid reader with a paranoid first- time mom and there you go. I wanted some education.
But here is the thing...it was all junk.
I'm not sure how that many books managed to ALL contradict each other, but I'm pretty sure they did. Pick him up, let him cry, rock him, sit at the crib and move the chair a little further away each night, put him in bed with you, don't put him in bed with you or you will surely squish him, put him beside your bed- like a crib
sidecar... you get the drift.
Bottom line is, these books are written by people we don't even know. And let's face it, many times we don't even take the advice of those we know best, so I have no idea why we put so much stock in complete strangers.
When it's all said and done, there are very few truths that are constants straight across the board. Most of parenting is on instinct. But now that my kids are older, there are a few truths that should have been written about in which there would never be any contradictions. There are several things that no one tells new parents, and you can't find anything about them in the mommy books either.

1. It doesn't matter if you have mostly leather couches, linoleum, tile, hardwood, or whatever. Your child will projectile vomit on the only cloth, unwashable thing you have in a 3,200 square foot area. So really, from about the time the petri dish called school starts until summertime, you might want to go ahead and wrap your furniture in plastic like your Great Aunt Agnes.

2. The powers that be are not kidding. You really never will go to the bathroom alone again. Never. Ever. I have nursed a baby in the bathroom, performed a puppet show with my foot, answered a zillion questions, and played a
modified game of kickball. Also, I have been asked a 37 trillion questions through the shower door. It's sort of like the foggy door makes it seems like the wisdom of Oz is behind it, and they come to me with all of life's questions.

3. Mom competition is a real thing. It doesn't matter if you ignore all the conversations about percentiles or early reading ability, it will hunt you down and find you when you least expect it. It struck me unexpectedly this soccer season when I thanked God I had already had snack duty because a parent after me had snack present boxes tied with twine and soccer stamping on the outside of the box. The next logical step for anyone following that would be for Beckham to hand out the snacks while posing for 8x10s with each child.

4. The things you obsess over like potty training? Well, don't. It doesn't matter if you get an Elmo book about it, do what Dr. Phil says, draw a bullseye on the toilet, give them an M&M every time they pee, or forgo potty training and trust they will "know" when they are ready. It doesn't matter. They will get it. They really will. What they won't get?Finding their shoes, jackets, and backpacks when they need them. This is what you need to be worried about. They will never overcome this hurdle. Never. Ever. Trust me.

5. When they come to you covered in blood like they are trying to make a sequel to Carrie, take a deep breath and look to the highest point covered in blood. There you will find the wound since blood travels down. It's surprisingly easy to forget this obvious fact when you feel like you are in a horror movie.

6. As far as holidays go, you have only two Halloweens to have total control over their costume choices. Choose wisely. And avoid all bouncy houses, restaurant play areas, etc., the entire month of December. If you do choose to go to one, be sure it's worth you and/or your children vomiting into a bucket on Christmas morning.

7. There will come a time in your life when socks will become your nemesis. After they are worn once and washed, you will never accurately match them again. You may be able to match brands, but you won't understand why one looks so white and the other looks like it was dragged through a motocross race, or why one is intact while the other has loose elastic. It doesn't matter if you color code the tips with a Sharpie or try to wash them together. Something unexplainable happens with socks and it will tip the scales of your sanity... weekly.

8. No matter the age difference or gender or how incredibly much they truly love each other, siblings will find a way to fight over absolutely anything. It helps them develop a sense of fairness and competition. Mine have even fought over who saw a pile of dog vomit first.

9. Some of you have never, ever, allowed your children to have caffeine even once. And that's great-it's not good for them. However, if you have never given your child caffeine and decide to attempt it, do NOT, under any circumstances give it to them in a public setting...unless you happen to be at the zoo.

10. Do not purchase anything that requires cleaning out a cage, tank, or filter even if the instructions guarantee it will only need to be done once a month. Don't do it. You will dread it like a root canal and at some point will have a come apart while shaking a filter brush toward the heavens.

11. Protect each piece of a Lego kit like the Holy Grail. If you lose even one piece of a 1,832 piece jet...forget it. It's over.

12. Do not jump on the Christmas Elf bandwagon. Never. Ever. Walk away.
You're welcome.

Ummm...yeah. It's time.

It. Is. Time.

It has been a wonderful summer. Dare I say that never before has my family had such an action packed summer. We have traveled so much, with trips to the beach, and trips to the lake with dear friends. Weekends full of boating and tubing and swimming and sun-kissed conversations over yummy food while listening to bands. There have been wonderful nights by our neighborhood pool with friends - nights filled with laughter. There have been close friendships that have become even closer for both me and my children. We have seen movies and bowled. There have been parties and kid sleepovers. We have been soooo lucky this summer! It has all been absolutely wonderful!

But I will just go on and say it...

I. Am. Done.

It's true. There is truly not one more ounce of energy left in my body.

Today, when I came a hair's breadth away from stretching out on the floor of Toys-R-Us, I knew everything was screeching to an end.
Granted, those who know my youngest will understand that a trip to Toys-R-Us with him after he found an unexpected giftcard after cleaning his room might even suck the energy out of a Jack Russel. But right there, in my big old Palooza pants, I almost melted in the animal habitat section like the witch in Oz.
I think I started downhill when we finally had a toy picked out after 8,472 questions, and then he saw something on a lower shelf, threw himself on his knees in front of it and exclaimed, "Oh, this is NOT over!!!"

I felt like I could cry from exhaustion. Granted, maybe I need to get my iron checked or something, but I clearly did not feel like this at the beginning of the summer.

And if I'm completely honest, there are other signs that maybe my quality of summer parenting has peaked.

Take the sock monkey in the shrubs. Right now, as I am sitting here typing this on my front steps, there is a huge sock monkey in my shrubs. Nevermind the laundry or smudges on my front window, but a dang sock monkey. Right now. Maybe fifteen yards from me. And I just don't care.
I might have cared early June. But tomorrow is August and I really don't care if the entire stuffed animal section of FAO Schwarz is in my shrubs.
Another sign summer is winding down?
I'm exercising.
Not to be thinner or to fit in half of the sad and lonely clothes in my closet, but in an attempt to find more energy and to have a few quiet moments away from everyone that has common DNA.
And last but not least, my mental health may also be slipping a tad. At first, I just felt crazy from all of the sibling squabbling. Who doesn't? The endless arguments over the most ridiculous things. But now my mind is wandering into odd arenas. But I am telling you as sure as I am sitting here, for those times that Jessie or Good Luck Charlie is over and we ACCIDENTALLY see a snippet of Dog With a Blog, I know with every fiber of my being that when that dog is trying to make a point in his serious voice or is being sarcastic that it is the exact same voice that taunted Drew Barrymore in the first Scream movie.

For real.

Yep, if that isn't a sign that Mama needs to get back on a schedule, I'm not sure what is.

And FYI, my youngest just told me that the remote control helicopter that we just bought actually isn't a remote control helicopter like it looked like on the box but just a helicopter on wheels that has some missiles that shoot out.

He just came out here to show me the missiles, pressed the button to launch them, and the helicopter wings fell off.

And just like that I'm transported back to Oz.

Here we go again...Zimmerman verdict

After the ruling in the Zimmerman case, Facebook is exploding again. "Friends" will soon be spewing attacks at each other, while others will choose to "hide" friends from view. Still others will continue to complain about the politics all over Facebook, but will silently stay on social media, continue to read, and then complain about what they are reading.
I've never quite understood when people complain about social issues on SOCIAL media.
Anyhow, this case is very emotionally charged and very sad. It shows how circumstances can so quickly get out of control. It shows how every action leads to another action. Unfortunately, sometimes things snowball and point A leads to point Z very quickly.
This case had all the components for a politically charged stew. Race, guns, self-defense, possible profiling, etc. There was never a way this case could conclude without backlash of some sort.
As I sit and read posts coming from both sides, I'm really trying not to debate. Even though my college degree (Criminal Justice/Political Science) really makes me want to debate. I was one of the lucky ones who got to follow the entire O.J. Simpson case through my criminology class.
But another reason I can't debate, is because fortunately or unfortunately, I can see some points on both sides. And as I also understand it, sometimes if you make a ruling following the law, that does not mean the ruling will be what it OUGHT to be.
Basically, after thinking on it all, and thinking on it some more. All I can come up with is this...
To me, the sad thing about this case is that in the end, Zimmerman may have genuinely feared for his life. But the reason the altercation occurred in the first place is because Zimmerman acted like a wanna-be cop who wanted vigilante justice and even ignored dispatcher orders to stop. So is it POSSIBLE that Zimmerman feared for his life? Yes. Whose fault was it that he was in a position to fear for his life? Zimmerman's. There is a whole lot of gray in this case. No one but those two people truly know what happened. And one has been proven not to be the most honest person, and the other is dead.

Same Old Rules

Okay, here is the thing....

The 40s does something to you. It's sort of like someone reaches into your brain, scoops it out, and remolds it. Your thinking totally changes and so does your perspective.

Suddenly, all of the little things that were important to you, aren't anymore. And what is truly important becomes crystal clear. Also, you simply won't tolerate so many of the things you once tolerated.

Surprisingly enough, most of the things are things I learned on the playground. It's just that now it's an adult playground, and the rules have changed a little, but the principles are still the same.

Here are a few rules I have RE-learned at 40...

Think for yourself.

This one I have found to be a really big one.

Of course we are always told to form our own opinions and not to listen to others, but sometimes it's easy to lose sight of that.

We are always told there are two sides to every story, yet I have been ashamed at how many times, as an adult, I have heard things through the grapevine, formed opinions from that, only to find out later- sometimes years later- that my opinions were wrong, that what I heard was told to me out of context, and the other side to the story- the side I never heard- was, in fact, the accurate side.

Sometimes those who are the loudest are telling you the wrong or incomplete side. Sometimes the person with the correct version is the one trying to rise above, be the bigger person, and not spread the gossip.

This is something I didn't fully
get at 30, but finally get at 4O.
It's definitely something to think about the next time you 'hear' something.

And here is when I reluctantly admit something. So I watched that new trash show the other night- Pretty Wicked Moms. And yes, it is exactly the train wreck I expected it to be. And yes, I am very ashamed that I am afraid I am likely going to watch it again. No, I am not proud of the fact that by watching it, I am, in a way, supporting it. But, darn, if it isn't a GREAT way to feel better about yourself. You will suddenly feel like the best mom, wife, and friend in the world. And that show leads me to my next point..

Bullies.

Another thing we are told as kids is to stand up to bullies. Everything on the school playground is often black or white. Physical aggression, taking lunch money, getting punched in the mouth. It's pretty easy to spot.

But, adult bullying can be more subtle. And this trash show is a great example of this. Adult bullying can be through rolled eyes, picking someone apart, on and on and on. There is just no room for mean people or drama. Just imagine how much a grim diagnosis at a doctor's office would put this into perspective. Imagine how many petty differences wouldn't even register anymore? Once again, I really am ashamed to have watched this total trash show, but in some ways it really makes you take notice.

And Facebook. Our poor children. When we were in school, at least if you weren't invited to something, you either didn't find out about it or you heard about it, in private, at some point down the road. Now, you find out, in print, with pictures included, for thousands to find out about as well.

It really does break my heart for our children. Can you imagine going through high school seeing every single thing out there? Not only did that guy dump you before the prom, but now you get to see pictures 24 hours later of them kissing on the dance floor and how great she looked in her dress. BLECH.

Thank goodness social media wasn't around in the 90s. I know of one fraternity contest where I totally dressed the part and lip synched to Rico Suave. That, alone, on social media could have driven me into permanent seclusion.

And last, but not least, your 40s also re-teaches you to be yourself. Of course I have always known this, but now it's fully understood, fully breathed, and fully lived.

If you love paisley but hate chevron, by all means wear it. In fact, I have found now that if something becomes too popular, I automatically don't like it anymore. What a difference from my younger years! You can't stand the political candidate your friends all like? So what. Don't conform. Ever. Only when you you are truly yourself will you ever know who your friends really are.

And finally, intuition. There is hardly ever a time when your intuition about people or situations isn't dead accurate. I didn't trust my intuition as much when I was younger, which is exactly why my date to the school dance pulled off using the same tux to take me and another girl to our school dances in different towns on back-to-back nights. Seriously.

Intuition about people and situations is brilliant and hardly ever wrong. Listen to it.

All of these things I've known my whole life. But it's sort of like looking through smudged glass that has suddenly been Windexed. (New word) Your 40s allows you to see it all more clearly and understand it all more deeply.

And for a few more wrinkles, that's not really a bad trade off.

Those Summer Moments

Spending seven hours stranded in my house while waiting for the air conditioner repairman AND scraping something sticky off the wall using my Pampered Chef stone bar pan scraper to avoid paint damage AND spilling Hawaiian Punch all over the counter AND accidentally painting a spot on my wall the wrong color AND going outside to hide from my children so that I could please, for the love of all that is sacred, try to read for two minutes, was not exactly how I imagined that my first official day of summer break would go.
But as someone smart and intuitive once said, I think a Beatle?, life is what happens when you are busy making other plans.
Every time I make grand statements like, "This is going to be the best summer EVAHHHH," I am surely setting myself up. That may be the exact moment that someone starts vomiting.
That is when I must remind myself that there are no perfect summers, and there are no totally perfect days, but there ARE perfect moments. And some days have LOTS of perfect moments.
Take today for instance. Watching my oldest sit on the floor of the bookstore with my youngest and helping him find a book he liked- perfect moment. Listening to my youngest sing Bruno Mars in the backseat with the most earnest expression , "I hope he buys you flowers..." Another perfect moment.
My oldest wanting me to sit with him after a day of fun and watch a Braves game he recorded- awesome.
My youngest trying to shoot ground beef out of his nose at Lime, the Mexican restaurant where we had lunch. Ummm, no.
So no, the summer will not be perfect. A whole day will not even be completely perfect.
And for those days when there are hardly ANY perfect moments, there ARE fruity summer umbrella drinks.
But here's to hoping we all have a summer of many, many perfect MOMENTS:)

Popping Tags

The other day I popped some tags.

Not Macklemore's kind, but rather the bathing suit kind.

I don't mean I bought a bunch of bathing suits. I mean, I literally, popped tags.

I tried on a size 6, and apparently the force was too great and the tags shot off across the dressing room like a cannon- almost shooting into the next stall.

They didn't fall off- they fired off.

Remember those optical illusions where you stare at all the lines and your eyes play tricks on you. Well, why in the heck can't they make an optical illusion suit? And after seriously Googling it, I am clearly not the only one who has thought of it. People are trying this. We need a suit with lines going everywhere and if you look at it, it either creates the illusion of a tiny person or even perhaps just makes your eyes blur so much that you can't see anything.

I kind of want to do the Medusa route. I need to know that if people look at my suit they turn to stone. That way I don't have to spend my entire Birmingham summer in a suffocating coverup.

They've already tried the miracle suit. FAIL!!! It's like those little rubber monster toys you squeeze and the eyeballs pop out. The bathing suit squeezes you so tight that suddenly- whoops!!! Well...there you go. It's all got to be re-routed somewhere. Didn't even know I had armpit fat.

At one point I decided I would just wear a loose, airy dress, a floppy hat, and shades. If anyone wants me to swim I can just pretend I'm channeling Garbo and beg to be left alone. I also figure if people are drowning, I can still save them in a T-shirt and a tennis skirt as well as I could a bikini.

At one point in the dressing room I just sat down pouting like a 5-year-old.

But all good pity parties must come to an end. I finally bucked up and found a suit I could tolerate. Because there is no suit that evokes a stronger emotion than that. When I found this tolerable suit, I bought it in two different colors. Because, you see, it may not happen again until the next solar eclipse.

So when you are out popping tags like I was, it will make it more fun if you
sing a little Thrift Shop.

But one lyric I will leave out?

"This is...awesome."

Summa...Summa...Summa...tiiiime.

Summer.

Summer always brings so many emotions for me. I am always excited for the lazy days and unplanned bursts of fun.

"Sure, we would love to come over and grill out and let the kids swim. Plans? No!!! Give us an hour and we will be there."

Trips to the lake. Trips to the beach. Days at the pool. All of us pilled up on the floor after a day of swimming, a slight chill to our skin from the sun as we cover ourselves with blankets and watch a movie- me usually drifting off to sleep as someone's hands are tangled in my chlorine-dampened hair. BLTs. Corn on the cob. Eating ice cream outside. Family bike rides. Gatherings with friends. Reading in the sun.

These are the parts of summer that I love.

But there are other parts. Boy, are there other parts. The screams from another room while I try to do laundry. Accusations of broken Legos, screaming, a noise, a retaliation noise, louder screaming. The result of too much togetherness and of shared space. Day after day. Sun up to sundown.

Remembering that these not-so-great moments are also a part of the summer almost makes me break in a cold sweat and want to look up that Pinterest pineapple martini recipe from a few weeks back.

There is something to be said for lack of schedule, but schedules do have their perks. Expectations are met. There is no, "I'm huuuuuuungry (whoops, is it already two o'clock?) whined through the foggy glass as I try to take my first shower in two days (doesn't chlorine count?)
And if I thought getting everyone to the bus on time was a feat, it pales in comparison to the "getting everyone out the door and to the pool with all the paraphernalia, SPF ready, without me screaming or someone having a meltdown of some sort."

And there isn't a whole lot of relaxing at the pool if you are outnumbered by your children. However, there are some pool rules that would help for sure. First of all there needs to be two pools. One for people who want to engage in water gun fire. Another pool for those who want to float on a raft and/or play with Barbies. There also needs to be a division in the pool of water gun fire for those who will cry when they are squirted in the face, even though they have been engaging in a full frontal attack of everyone in striking distance, and those who will not. In other words, what I'm trying to say here is simply this...there ain't a whole lot of relaxing for Mama at the pool.

I know the men picture us in our bathing suits and sunglasses and floppy hats slathering sunscreen on our kids while we eat grapes and talk about our next Bunco meeting.

But nobody's got time for that.

As summer approaches and I'm filled with both excitement and apprehension, I realize that somewhere in the midst of all of this end- of-the -year May craziness, I need a plan.

Not a laid out schedule or anything like that. After all, summer is summer! But maybe a summer- ish plan. A backup plan for when the Lego building hits the hardwood. A plan so that maybe I can go to the grocery store by myself once in a while. (Just step over me if you see me reading a People by the frozen food.) A plan for when we have all been a bit too "together." A plan for when someone takes issue with another simply looking at him. I need a backup plan for those times. What I really need is a Mary Poppins in my back pocket. But for now, I must develop a system. A summer generator for when the summer fun electricity goes out.

Everyone goes to his own room
and reads? A hidden movie they don't know about? A car ride to Sonic for a milk shake where everyone is strapped in and can't touch each other and the only way you get a ticket for the milkshake is if you don't speak the whole way there??? Who knows.

I am simply going to get hard at work developing a plan so that there are more "piled up on the floor watching a movie after a day of swimming" moments than there are "HE WON'T STOP COPYING MEEEEEEEE!" moments.

Please, other moms, or even people who are not moms but who happen to have brilliant ideas about this, share in the comments or on my Facebook page.

Moms need help!

Meanwhile, I will be working on my summer plan.

T minus 16 days and counting.

Or maybe I should just read outside in a floppy hat. It may be my only chance.

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