MomMe TV Blog :: "Tara Says"

I was recalling the days before I had children. Days when I was very sure what children today needed. Days when naughty children were automatically the fault of some wimp parent. Days when I thought children adoring me because I was such a fun auntie meant my own kids would, of course, follow suit. Oh, how simple & tidy the world was before I had to live in it. Now I know raising kids is deceivingly complex, well it is if you want to do an excellent job. Because life is not simple, teaching it to wee ones is no walk in the park. It's likely deceiving because so many people do parent. The assumption is then, how hard could it be? Well, add up the number of stellar folks you know vs. the number of dorks. Exactly, girlfriend. Just because many do something does not signify it's easy or is done well by all. Pete's sake, take makeup for instance. Why are some people called makeup artists? But I digress...

One certainty I had before kids was my daughters would NEVER play with Barbie. Oh, I loved my Barbies, but they now violated my feminist sensibilities. A clear sign of patriarchal oppression. My daughters would be allowed to play with all sorts of toys whatever the gender preference. Barbie would only teach my daughter negative body image & to focus on externals. I doubted my daughter would ever even want a Barbie. Hysterical, isn't it? Of course, now I have daughters. Daughters who begged for Barbies & play with them occasionally but not obsessively. Daughters who rarely dress them anyway & play like they're doctors & animal trainers. Even their male friends under 5 enjoy them. I realized one day that trying to control my daughter's toys as if being feminine was "bad" was uncool. Isn't the best way to celebrate equality letting our daughters play with everything they enjoy while teaching strong values? Restricting them from Barbie now strikes me as anti-feminist. It's good to be a girl, dangit! I've come to see Barbies are really not Satan in a swell dress.

My friends with boys say they experienced similar struggles with their sons & guns. Of course, we all know vicious or capricious shooting is wrong. We've all heard that too much emphasis on shooting & violence is harmful, etc. It's hard to get around that boys generally play more roughly & often if they don't have a gun, they shoot sticks or whatever else is handy. The problem, it turns out, is not having a pretend gun so much as not teaching them what it means in real life or the responsibilities of gun usage. Most men have played with toy guns in this country, the vast majority have never shot anyone (plz do not send Dick Cheney jokes, they're tired now). Although it's often interesting the perceptions people have about guns. One friend told me a visiting family in their apartment complex got upset that their son had found a toy gun belonging to her son. Her son only had one, but the other boy was playing with it. The couple was disturbed & complained to her. Interestingly, during the conversation it came to light that these parents smoked marijuana in front of their son. It boggles the mind, doesn't it?

Seems that balance in all things is key when raising children. Patience, tolerance, not sweating small stuff & daily toiling to instill morals & manners seems to win at the end of the day. Perhaps that's not obvious to those who aren't in the trenches of childrearing. I hope they come around to seeing it in the end result. If, however, we do end up with a future society of well dressed bimbos who date gun-slingin' cowboys, I guess I'll be wrong.

Posted by Sassypants at 11:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

One of the bests parts of being a mom is stuff they tell ya. My girls make me laugh all the time. Okay, sometimes they make me scream. But overall, we laugh most. When Clara Grace was 4 she announced she knew how Elvis died. I was shocked she'd contemplated this. She once asked about him & I'd mentioned he died of a heart attack. I believe I might've phrased it that he fell & died. So she smiles proudly & explains her theory thus, "Well, I think Elvis was wearing slippy shoes & he fell down. So he died. One time I had slippy shoes, Mommy & I fell down. I didn't die. But Elvis did. It was his slippy shoes, I think." So the mystery is cleared up. Alert the media. And put some tape on the soles of your shoes, folks, it's apparently quite dangerous out there. If it could happen to Elvis, it could happen to any of us.

Once at Disneyland she was very excited at a character breakfast & noted 2 huge squirrels ambling towards us. "Look!" she joyously squealed, "It's Chip & Dip!!" As you can imagine, we'll never let her live that down. I'll probably mention it at the wedding one day. Her other famous line came when she wanted to make an announcement. She was a newly minted 4 at the time. She raised her fairy wand & proclaimed, "Mommy! SCIENCE!" I was perplexed until it hit me. "Um Clara Grace, I think you mean SILENCE." Giggles erupted & a sweet little voice admitted, "Oh yeah, that's right, Mommy. I get mixed up." Likely this is the case when we visted a Jewish cemetary in Vienna & she asked if she could wear a harmonica, too. We call them yarmulkes, dear. More giggles.

Ava, on the other hand, is funny in a different way. Once when she was 3 she asked in a concerned voice if Grammie & Papah live in a poor country. Well, no they live in Oregon, that's a state, honey. She persisted with this line of questioning, finally saying, "But Mom they don't even have a Super Target, so it's a poor country, huh?" Flabbergasted is too mild to describe my response. I guess during our travels through several 3rd world countries she'd noticed this discrepancy. When she was 2 & someone frustrated her, she would announce, "You makin' my crazy!" We still use that phrase at our house for obvious reasons.

Families are wondrous places to learn & laugh. I try to keep this in mind & be grateful. These are halcyon days, my friends. It's good to cheirsh our blessings while they're here. So choose joy today. Remind yourself the best things about your little darlings. Savor this chapter now, it'll close far too soon. They always do.

Posted by Sassypants at 08:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I just need to vent. I’m tired of the pat answers. A dear friend has struggled with infertility issues. Over the years, she’d sobbed through too many Mother’s Days in church where moms are given flowers & she was trying everything to get pregnant. Her marriage crumbled. Then she met her soulmate & boom! A bouncing baby! She yearned to have just one more. She’s an excellent mother. Theirs is a warm, vibrant family. A child would have a healthy, loving home.

What she wanted most over the 20+ yrs we've been friends was a loving family. I was relieved then to hear she was preggers again. I was hoping for a girl this time. Hoping she’d be showing when I see her this summer. She was over the moon, needless to say. It was such a blessing that she'd be able to have another. Their dream come true.

Then I got the email. She lost the baby after a hard fight. Eight weeks along. People said things like: It’s all for the best when these things happen. The baby is safely with the lord. Maybe she can get pregnant again. It was meant to be. Their words rang hollow in the face of her loss. I flailed my fists into the air even though I know it’s pointless. No matter what anyone says I’m angry. I’ll get past it, sure. But just yet, I’m angry that she has to suffer.

Crackheads are making babies that may well grow up lonely & unloved. (I truly wish everyone on the stuff could be set free & their babies know real love, my point is how sad children aren't protected from toxic situations). My friend is a fine woman & an excellent mother. It ain’t right, y’all. Probably just the gross inequity of the cosmos, sure. But it just ain’t right. I extend my heart to any of you who’ve lost pregnancies. I’m so sorry. Sorry for all the insensitive things people may've said thinking it could help with grief so wrenching. I pray you find a way forward that honors your loss. That’s most important in the end, of course. But you can put me down for sayin’ even though you have to go on, it ain’t fair. I’m not going to pander & say that’s okay. It’s life, but it ain’t fair. And I’m so sorry. So terribly sorry for your loss, sister.

Posted by Sassypants at 01:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I have to confess I went out of state to attend a dear friend's shower, so I missed most of Father's Day. It kinda killed me even tho I was glad I went. We always try to make holidays & birthdays special in our home. We want the girls to have memories of family traditions of celebration & love to carry into their homes one day. Holidays & special days are just one way we show the people we daily take for granted how much we value them. So missing part of Father's Day was a tough call for me.

I prepared the girls to give Daddy lots of hugs & tell him how much he means to them. I explained how this is a very special holiday & they needed to take over for me this year. We chose & wrapped presents earlier in the week. One great gift was a tie from Snapfish.com. We had the girls' picture put on it. He got a kick out of that. My oldest bought him cards at school with money she'd earned from chores. They both signed to the degree they're capable. The 4 yr old is just now able to sign her name. We had to work on it a couple different nights because we also did cards for Grandpa & 4 yr old attention spans are tough. I think it's important they learn early the value of a written note of celebration or thanks. It's never too young to start helping them understand that manners are really just a way to honor & respect others.

I'd have never gone to the shower except my husband insisted that it was the right thing to do. He's such a good guy, really. The kind of guy who deserves to be honored on Father's Day. He comes home tired from work often, but he still takes them to the park or out for ice cream. The girls take that for granted these days. I tried to tell them it's real nice of him, but they seem to think all Dads must be this great. I wanted to argue that point, but then it dawned on me....they have a solid example in their young lives that a Daddy is a loving, fun, tough, strong man who takes care of you. That's HUGE! In the list of things I hope they learn growing up in our home, that's right up near the top. The weekend seems to have been fun for them between swimming & eating out. But I find myself wondering how one can ever properly thank a Daddy who takes such good care of his girls? I'm gonna go down tryin', is all I can say!

Posted by Sassypants at 12:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Bedmaking is controversial. Why make your bed? After all, you’re just going to mess it up again. For years this was my mantra. Sure, I thought it’d be great if I did make it, I just didn’t have the time. I’d had to make my bed as a girl, so it felt great to choose not to as an adult. Over time, that thrill grew old, but I remained convinced I was not a made-bed person. Those people were very together. I was not together, so I didn’t make my bed. That simple.

Many years of bad choices pass, finally I figure out how to own my life. Enter the man of my dreams who (can you even believe it?!) wants to marry me. The great news is he believes in me. He's an achiever. A guy ya have to admire for all he is & does. Why would he want me? I still don’t know for sure. He taught me the secrets of being a doer & not just an intender. Bedmaking is part of that philosophy. At first it was a pain, but I did it to prove I was no slouch (which I was). Over time, it hit me that it literally takes a minute to make a bed. Why had I always thought I didn’t have time? My own myth exploded on me. I even began daring myself to do it when I felt I didn’t have time. (Yes, sick!) Then after a couple years it hit me. I was a bedmaker! I finally made the connection that the bed represented my not justifying why I couldn't or cutting corners anymore. I just did the work. I'd always thought I needed to get it together on big issues & then get to the small ones. Turns out I had it backwards!

My oldest daughter, Clara Grace, makes her bed. Ava will begin soon. Clara Grace doesn't fuss too much although she's not wild about it. One morning she wailed, "But I don't WANT to do it!" I explained we don't always do just what we want. We do what needs to be done so we can move on to the big stuff. She's learning I'll trust her with bigger responsibilities as I see her handle the smaller ones. It's the broader lesson I hope stays with her.

You don't have to make your bed to be a together person, certainly. But doing mundane work often builds the musculature of self discipline & determination needed for overall success in life. I hope I can find the words over the years to help my girls understand the real value of a made bed. I don't want them to wait 30 some-odd years to realize you sleep easier in a bed that you made proudly.

Posted by Sassypants at 08:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I’m not proud to report this incident. Let’s be clear about that. My 4 yr old, Ava, is precocious. One of those little charmers who’s really a cosmic message not to have any more because the mixing of your genes is now a slippery slope, dear. She hit me with a another of her signature whoppers recently. What’s astounding is she taught ME something in the process. Kills me to admit it, but that kid’s teaching me a lot. The primary lesson being parenting is not for sissies.

We had to leave a party a little early. Miss Ava was not pleased. She quibbled as I ushered her to the car. Once in, she announced in a frustrated tone that she’s just a spoiled brat. That’s not a term we use. I was shocked. Not liking labels, I insisted she was not a brat, just that her choices weren’t positive. She was adamant that indeed she was a brat and went on to add, & here’s where I knew I was in trouble, “and it’s YOUR fault, Mom!”

Okay…..breathe, count to 10, think, breathe…so why is it MY fault, pray tell? “You made me leave when I didn’t want to. Then I was fussy & acted like a spoiled brat. So it’s your fault for making me leave, Mom.” She was lethally earnest. This was all very simple in her estimation. I informed her that being a brat is ALWAYS a choice. I offered other responses that were better. She was skeptical. We’ll keep working on that, of course. It's key she learn to own her choices each stage of her life.

What shocks me is how clear she was on the facts (as she saw them). One thing about 4 yr olds is they do not ever want to be wrong. That’s not the worst thing because, at 4, you’re just on the road to maturing. It hit me how her actions were the perfect illustration of immaturity. It took some thinking for her to blame me. But she was willing to do it in order to feel no guilt about being self-centered. How many times have I seen that in adults? In myself? I was reminded afresh that when I have to do mental gymnastics to “prove” how right I am, it’s likely I’m the one wrong. I always say if I could tattoo something on every high school senior it’d be “If everyone else seems completely stupid, you can be certain you’ve got the problem.” I live by that, my friends. I learned it the hard way. Apparently my daughter has inherited more than my fine hair….huge sigh…. This is gonna be a long ride, isn’t it?

Posted by Sassypants at 11:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

It’s a dirty little secret of new moms. There’s no way on this green earth if you’re a new Mom with more than one child & no daycare/nanny/granny that you’re gonna get a daily shower. Die to it now, sister. If this is your first, you’re gonna have to work really hard, but it still may not happen. You’ll find you shower when you can barely stand yourself which will, assuredly not, be daily. You’ll be too busy to notice. I’m sorry to tell you this if you’re swelling with your 2nd. But no one told me, so I’m tellin’ you. This will happen. Be forewarned.

I got a huge charge out of Megan’s VLog recently. I wasn’t sure I’d like Vlogs, but holy guacamole! You watch one, then another, then it’s like Mommy Crack! You find yourself relating. Then it starts feeling like Megan, CoCo & Dee are neighbors. It’s compelling stuff. Life stories are powerful. I’d have killed for this as resource when I was a new Mom. Anyway, Megan’s VLog mentioned if she can get a shower in, it’s a miracle. I was so glad someone finally said it out loud!! GO MEGAN!!

Listen, I’m not saying it’s okay to be totally skanked out when you have kids. I’m just sayin’ when they’re little, your needs move down the list. I needed a few more winks than a shower some days. It’s grueling in the beginning of a baby’s life. If you’ve another child, the hyper-stimulation of constantly needing to hold someone is exhausting. Yes, you love your kids, & it’s a joy to care for them. But for a while, you may find yourself falling into bed dreading the next wail for a feeding, feeling like wailing yourself. Low Shower Ratio (technical jargon…ha) is normal. Just keep going. It does get better in a few years. Of course, it’ll still be years until you can pee privately again, but hey, you signed on for the long haul, right? So keep those baby wipes handy so your critical zones at least remain hygienic, & shower as best you can. It’s not your personal failure, so get your hubby to help you carve some time. Your life will go back to normal one day, until then don't feel badly. And spread the word to expectant Moms. ‘Cuz everybody knows keepin’ dirty little secrets is never good.

Posted by Sassypants at 09:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Germs. Predators. Accidents. Bullies. Stress. Heartbreak. Hallitosis. We worry that so many things will harm our children. I confess there’s a tiny piece of me hoping if I worry enough & give proper vitamins, I’ll earn extra cosmic insurance. Ludicrous, of course. It just kinda kills me I can’t protect them completely. Still, tough times happen to all, so getting through them with grace & dignity is critical. It changed my life to realize I'm the one who's supposed to teach them that part.

When it comes down to it, All I can truly control is myself, so the only thing I can truly protect them from is my poor example. By living each day mindfully (not on stressed autopilot) I’m

educating them to thrive in a world that rarely meets our expectations. So I strive to work on controlling my temper, being compassionate, thinking outside the box, staying positive, eating my veggies, making my bed & being polite. I fight the easy answer, sloppiness, the temptation to judge others quickly & smart off as best I can.

Tough times are going to happen to our kids. A dear friend taught me once we aren’t supposed to keep them from living life. She said we’re supposed to live zestfully & with integrity, not shirking from the hard stuff. Our kids' best protection is knowing how to handle adversity. Grace under fire is learned, y’all. Sure, I’ll still squirt the antibacterial stuff & teach them not to talk to strangers, but I’ll also take comfort knowing they're learning how to thrive & prosper, no matter what life hands them. I can live with that.

Posted by Sassypants at 07:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)