Ism of the Week

"Mom, why don't we eat apple seeds?"

"Because they're really hard and don't taste like much."

"But we scooped out all of those pumpkin seeds and you ate some of them."

"I know, but there are only some seeds we eat."

"I think we should eat all seeds.  Like watermelon seeds!"

"And what else?"

"Chicken seeds?  And milk seeds and cat seeds!  But Mommy, do people have seeds?"

"Uh... so, Cael, tell me how school was school today?"

We The People

It has only taken a few days of waking up to the very loud sounds of pretend battle and the machinated voices of Woody and Buzz at nearly 5:00am for me to join the ranks of those against Daylight Saving Time. 

I even saw a petition being shared by a few of my friends on Facebook that suggested the time change be done away with altogether, and by the scores of signatures on the form, there are plenty of other parents that agree.

I didn't sign it, though, because after seeing countless "Boycott Chris Brown" and "Muzzle Lindsay Lohan" petitions garner thousands of signatures and then see Chris Brown's concerts sell out and Lohan's face remain uncovered, I have lost faith in the petition process.

But maybe that's because none of the causes were compelling enough to cause real change.  Let's change that.


Petition to Make Parenting Easier

Parenting is the most difficult position many of us will ever hold, and despite the way today's modern conveniences ease the burdens of child-rearing, they yield many of our collective pet peeves as well.  By removing these irritants, today's parents will be happier and more equipped to raise competent, well-adjusted children.  These are our requests:

1.  Fast food restaurants should no longer offer french fries as the default side option for kids' meals.  Surely my children are not the only ones to prefer fruit over greasy potato strips, and when my poor memory prevents me from addressing the fry vs. fruit issue, I'd rather the fast food conglomerate not be the one to put fat on my kids' bones.  Their genes will do that on their own, thank you very much.

2.  Remove commercials from children's programming.  Sometimes all that stands between urinating in private and putting on an impromptu and very intimate one-woman show is the Disney channel.  But by not providing 22 uninterrupted minutes of brain-numbing cartoons, parents everywhere cannot remember or know the freedom of privacy.  
(2a.  In addition, Dora should no longer leave that awkward pause after asking questions to the viewer.  Not only do my children never take the opportunity to answer, but now also leave lingering, blink-filled pauses after requesting oatmeal or cereal.)

3.  Paper towel and toilet paper products should be sold in simple white, eliminating the patterned options from the shelves.  Although many people may like simplistic images of flowers or picnic baskets on their paper towel rolls, these printed choices lead my children (and undoubtedly many others) to believe that all paper and sanitary products are intended to be decorated.  While I found humor in the marker drawing of a mangled cow on my Kleenexes, I was less enthused about my ruined guest towel.

4.  It is time for the immediate and widespread elimination of the word "barf".  It's just gross.

5.  Prescription and child medications lids need more advanced safety lock options.  While the current "press and turn" caps are effective in keeping children out, they are nearly impenetrable for mothers with snot and applesauce-covered hands who are trying to medicate a screaming three year-old.  With the new iPhone 5S's fingerprint scanner a reality, pill bottles can certainly integrate a retinal or tongue scan to ease use.

6. Lastly, all retail stores should have carts available and aisles wide enough to accommodate them.  As if leaving Ulta without the latest Urban Decay product isn't difficult enough, keeping my children from knocking over displays and threatening to paint each other's butts with nail polish makes the experience nearly traumatic.  The embarrassment of pushing two boys around in one cart even through adolescence is worth it to me to enjoy my time perusing the makeup aisles without fear of them constructing a boxed hair-dye fort.

Mothers everywhere, unite!  We can make this happen.  Who is with me?!

All Hallow's Eve

With Halloween now a thing of the past along with Breaking Bad and what felt like the only remaining hours of sunshine, I'm happy to look forward to the holiday season.  I like Halloween just fine, but once I've eaten all of the Reese's peanut butter cups from the candy stash, the actual act of traipsing around in the cold leaves something to be desired.  But even after offering our hand-out candy to the boys in exchange for staying in the warm house, the boys insisted that the show go on, even in the cold.

And was it ever cold.  Even my jack-o-lanterns, who had been outdoors before I'd gutted them, wouldn't stay lit against the strong wind that blew all night. 

 It had been raining off and on all day, so as we trudged from door to door with numb fingers, we added numb toes to the mix as we splashed in puddles of semi-frozen rainwater too dark to see. 

If you have children, though, you know that the pursuit of candy will provide enough inner warmth to melt the ice caps, so we continued on from one house to the next.  When we reached one house with a large scarily-masked dummy on the porch, the boys marched right up to the door just in time for the dummy to reveal itself as a middle-school aged boy, who jumped up with a shout. 

Cael spun to look at him, confused, while Graham tucked tail and sprinted back to us as though there were a vicious lion in hot pursuit, only to trip over the edge of the sidewalk and fly through the air before skidding across the (mercifully) wet grass and coming to a stop at our feet.

There were no tears, just a lot of shock and several suspicious glances toward anyone whose face was not in clear sight. 

"What is that?  Is that going to scare me?"

"No, Bubba.  That's just another boy trick-or-treating."

"Will that scare me?"

"No, honey.  That's a spider decoration.  It's not real."

"But what about that?!?"

"That's a mailbox, Graham."

If the goal had been candy, it was a very successful mission.  My actual goal was a fun experience, however, and I think this Halloween was something of a wash.  We arrived home cold, wet and hungry, and after letting the boys choose a couple of treats from the stockpile, they were hit with the inevitable sugar rush and chose to burn that energy by beating on each other for awhile. 

I'd secretly hoped that by dressing Graham as a bag of M&Ms and Cael as a doctor, the universe would have found a way to put the equation in my kids' heads that too much candy = getting sick, but the concept got distorted along the way.  Instead, after I caught them stealing candy from the cache at 5am on Friday morning, the "if, then" theorum became "if your brother takes your Smarties, then pound on him until he requires medical attention". 

But here we are on Monday, wiser, heavier and much more tired thanks to Daylight Savings Time, and I can say with absolute certainty that I'll do it all over again next year just to make them smile.

As long as there are peanut butter cups.

Happy Halloween!

Have a fun and safe night!

Ism of the Week

Sometimes around this time of year, with Halloween nearly here and the winter holidays already showing themselves on commercials and Target aisles, Graham's wires get crossed.

Trying on an old costume of Cael's to make sure it would fit Graham despite being a size too small, I thought I should bolster his confidence a bit.  After all, being the little brother can be tough with hand-me-downs clothes and homemade costumes. 

Graham and Cael, Halloween 2012

"Wow, Graham.  You look great!  It's not a scary costume, but that's okay.  You'll just have spook everyone.  Do you know what to say?"

"Yep.  I say, 'Boo, boo, boo.  Merry Halloween!"

And a happy new year.

Pumpkin Wishes

Every year at this time, I look forward to carving pumpkins.  I love planning out my design and, if I have the time, trying something new and challenging.  But as much as I love a good jack-o-lantern, I absolutely dread what leads up to it.

Two years ago, Graham wanted mouse toots.  I just don't know what they looks like.



Last year, Cael requested a snake to be carved out of a lumpy pumpkin, which seemed easy enough until I started carving and discovered that warty pumpkins are harder than stone, and probably stable enough to be used to construct the space shuttles.

So last night when I asked the boys to plan what they wanted me to carve tomorrow, my face had a smile but my fingers were crossed behind my back.

"Cael, what would you like on your pumpkin?"

"I don't know, Mom.  Whatever you want."

"Wait, you don't want to help me carve a cool pumpkin?"

"I don't care."

"Graham, do you want to pick out a pumpkin design?"

"Just make mine like Cael's."

"Okay, boys.  Should I just not carve pumpkins this year?  This is supposed to be a special and fun thing for the two of you."

The parent in me has to say this so that they understand the effort I am putting in on their behalf.  But the inner child in me knows that I'm going to carve the pumpkins regardless.  I just wish they cared a little more.

"No!"  "No, Mommy, carve them!"

"Well, what do you want them to look like then, Cael?"

"Okay.  I want a town.  No, no, a city.  With lots of skyscrapers and a helicopter watching the cars on the streets.  Make sure there are lots of cars.  And there should be a moon in the sky with some stars, and mountains in the background.  Or a volcano!  And can there be people in the buildings?  Like some of them are working at their jobs and some of them live in the buildings, so they are at home.  And some of them are sleeping in their beds.  Can you make beds?  Ooh, and they should all have pets, like cats and dogs.  Or maybe a rabbit.  Okay, Mom?"

This Halloween, be careful what you wish for.

Pumpkin Patch Mismatch

From the day my boys were born, they demonstrated a number of similarities.

They had similarly colored eyes, were both equally challenging to deliver thanks to similarly oversized heads, and since birth have displayed similar skill in driving me batty in creatively similar ways.  But sometimes I have an experience that reminds me just how different they are, despite their matching blonde locks and joint propensity for trouble and late night snack heists. 

During the week of Cael's birthday, both of my boys' schools were planning trips to a local pumpkin patch, Kroul Farms. 

And because of a change in my schedule that saw one of my day care kids not coming for the week, I had both Thursday and Friday free to accompany my boys to the farm, where I had an impromptu lesson in genetics and personality development.

 For example, when Graham realized that I would be coming along on the field trip, he was thrilled that I would be there, and clung to my side for the first 20 minutes of the trip. 

Cael, on the other hand, who admittedly didn't know I was coming to meet his bus at the pumpkin patch, was surprised to see me there but found goofing around with his friends much more interesting that hanging out with dear ol' Mom.

The differences didn't end there.  Here is Cael deeply drawn into the excitement of the farm animals.

Here is Graham, acting bored and refusing to participate.

Here is Cael's favorite animal, a chicken with an eye for my Canon handheld.

And here is Graham's favorite animal, the pig, because "the curly tail on his butt looks like your hair, Mommy.  Just on your head.  Not on your butt.  Wait, DO you have hair on your butt?"

No, I don't.

Here is Cael, running at full force through the the hay bail maze.

Here is Graham, in a single file line, shuffling reluctantly along.

As the afternoon wore on, my boys even changed in similar ways.  Graham was shy and clingy at first, but later grew more confident and wanted to explore on his own.  Cael, on the other hand, was wild and hyper but later settled down and wanted to hold my hand.

So while I thought I was headed to the farm to look at some pumpkins with my sweet boys, I spent two afternoons reminding myself that for all of their similarities, Cael and Graham are very individual.

I also learned not to get too close to the chicken pen, but that's a story for another day.