Category — lessons

I don’t often blog about work, but this week we came up with a craft that was fun, educational and can easily be done at home.

We have been talking about farms and ranches, the different animals on each and the duties of the people who live and work there. We came up with the idea to have the kids learn about sheep and wool. So we made each child their own wooly sheep to shear.

Then we explained about the process and that they would be shearing their sheep with their hands.

Then we had them collect their “wool” and explained that it gets sent to factories and is made into different things that we use at home. We gave them the choice of making a sweater or a blanket.

It was a fun and easy project that taught them about sheep, wool and some of our household items.

Have a great day~

Over the last week there’s been an outbreak of lice in my children’s school. Two of my kids have had children in their classrooms with confirmed cases. The thought of lice always makes me crazy because of the magnitude of what it means in my house.

Over my 20 years of motherhood, I’ve had to delouse my children and house on 2 occasions. The many hours of hair treatments, bagging up stuffed animals, washing laundry for days on end (which is ALREADY the norm here, so now imagine the added laundry that comes with lice!) made me HATE lice with a passion and work hard to prevent it by hammering into my kids heads that they absolutely CAN NOT share hair items or scarves etc. It’s been about 6 years since we’ve had to deal with it, so I guess my rules have worked.

However, now that I’m also in the environment with the kids, I’m getting panicky. After much thought and checking the kids’ heads several times, my new advice is this;

Play only with hairless, naked children!

Have a great day~

I am now on my 5th teenager. I have one kiddo that is through the teens and onto the 20’s and 4 who are solidly in the teen years. And the #1 thing I’ve learned about teens is that you can not…let me repeat…can not make a teen do something they have decided not to do. Sure, you can deliver consequences for their actions or lack there of, but if they’ve decided not to come off the roof because they are angry at you, you can not MAKE them come down. Yes, you could climb onto the roof and push them off or drag them down, but I don’t recommend that. If they’ve decided they aren’t going to get out of bed and go to school, you can not, in fact, MAKE them get out of bed, get dressed and go to school. You CAN drag them out of bed, try your darndest to dress them yourself and force them into the car, lock the door and speed out of the driveway. But along the way, if there’s a stop sign…they can jump out. I think you get what I’m saying.

As I look back on being a teen myself, I shouldn’t be surprised by having learned this lesson. I distinctly remember standing in my parent’s kitchen and having the thought, “they can’t actually MAKE me do anything. They can yell at me. They can ground me. They can fine me or refuse to take me somewhere. Heck, they can kill me. But I still won’t have done the dishes”. Dang! Knowing that I thought that way, I shouldn’t be surprised at the stubbornness I sometimes encounter in my teens.

What you CAN do…wait it out. If they’re on the roof and it’s going to get cold and dark, they will come down…especially if you aren’t demanding that they come down. If they won’t get out of bed for school, take the phones, turn off the internet and go about your day. I’m serious! The less attention you give to the behavior the quicker it disappears. Of course, if it becomes chronic then intervention will be needed, but I’m talking about the occasional defiant action. You don’t want your teen to become a truant or to live on the roof and if the dishes aren’t getting done at all, then, yes, something besides ignoring their defiance needs to be done. I’ve found that if I just let them have their strong-willed outburst and then say “no” to the next couple of things they ask to do, it gets the message across.

Bottom line…teens can be tough! Even the very best, most studious and polite kiddos can decide to rear their defiant heads. I’m encouraging you, as the parent of a teen, to take a deep breath, silently decide what the consequence will be, let them finish their defiance and then deliver the consequence. I’ve found it saves a lot of yelling.

Have a great day~

This question recently came from one of my readers. With her permission, I thought I’d share it and my answer;

Hi. So I’m asking for M.O.M advice. I know a lot of big families but they either have all small kids or they tend not to be involved in as many activities as my kids. Yours seem to be in a lot of stuff, too, so here’s the question. Or problem. Mine are driving me absolutely nuts with the last minute stuff. I forgot my… I have rugby practice… I need a…. This morning at 6:20 my son informed me that he needs a flash drive because he lost his a long time ago. But he needs it today. He knew I went to staples last night. Then, he forgot his rugby stuff. Which means that I have to drive it to him instead of him getting a ride to rugby.

Here’s the thing: If I stop them from going to sports because they forgot their added practice or gear, I feel like I’m punishing the team, not them. But I’m trying to get them all over the planet and work… So I’m being punished.

Any advice?

Laura

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, I’ve been there (and still am from time to time). I totally understand what you mean about punishing the team. But…the kids key into that quickly and understand that you’re not willing to let the team down, so they’re off the hook. So, sit them down and tell them (I like to tell them things AND have it in writing so that they understand it’s not going away) that the next time that you have to run around because of their forgetfulness or mismanagement of time, that you are going to give them an extra chore that they can pick from a list of extra chores (make it something substantial, that doesn’t usually get done, but that you REALLY WANT to get done). If it happens again, after an extra chore has been given, then tell them that they will be fined (this is IF they have $. A teen’s $ is usually hard enough earned that they don’t want to have to relinquish it for something that isn’t what they WANT). IF it happens AGAIN after that (make sure you keep track) then they lose the privilege of the sport for the day/week/one game…you decide. BUT, they will have had PLENTY of advance warning, so it’ll be THEIR decision to let the team down. AND let them know that they will have to give the coach (and team, if you choose) an apology for letting them down and tell them why it happened. This all puts the ball in their court. They have plenty of advance notice of what the cause and effect are and the decision is theirs.

That’s my advice. It’s hard to make them accountable for their actions, but it can be done.

Good luck!

Fits. I’ve been dealing with them for the better part of 20 years. I’ve seen my share! I can remember being a new mom and trying to give choices to lure the child out of the fit. I can remember being a little more seasoned mom and trying to be stern and give NO choices to lure the child out of the fit. As time and children have gone on, I’ve tried different methods, only to find that what works with one child on one day may very well not work for any other child (not even that one) on any other day.

Now that Gabi and Luke-Xavier have started school, their days are full of routine and they are getting used to authority figures other than me. They don’t like this! They’ve each put in their fair amount of effort to try to be in charge in the their classrooms. I work in the preschool through lunch and when nap time comes, I’m off. So, each day, they line up to be ready to nap and I grab my purse and go. They’ve caught on to the routine and have decided that nap time doesn’t seem so great because Mom won’t be there anymore.

Yesterday I got a call from the preschool director saying that Luke-Xavier had been having a stubborn fit for the better part of an hour and did I have anything that I normally do to help him stop a fit. I snickered a little, because I know how VERY stubborn he is. I know that when he throws a fit, it goes until he’s finally exhausted and falls asleep. We’ve tried many things with him, but I didn’t have any thing I could give her that would make him stop right away. I felt bad because I knew he was disrupting all the kids that were actually trying to sleep. I knew he must be really tired because every other day of school, he’s fallen asleep quickly and slept like a rock. But I also knew that if I went to get him that the fits would go on each day and he’d learn that if he throws a fit for long enough, Mom will come get him. So, we made the decision that he couldn’t win or we’d be done for the year! We decided to just let him finish the fit on his own and that when he was finally tired enough, he’d crash. I gave her permission to just leave him asleep, wherever he may land and to keep up the regular routine with the rest of the class. The last thing I wanted her to think she had to do was wake up a child that had finally fallen asleep 5 minutes earlier and then have to deal with the aftermath of his sleepiness.

He did, in fact, fall asleep on the classroom floor and he woke up feeling much better. Let’s hope that he learned the lesson that throwing a fit doesn’t bring me back to “rescue” him from nap time.

So, I guess this lesson in the Learning Lessons series is actually 2 lessons, one for the parent and one for the child. It’s about sticking to the routine and standing firm so that the child learns that they can’t be in charge of controlling the it. It’s a hard lesson!

Have a great day~

Yesterday was the very last day of school for this 08-09 school year.  

What a year!  

Seriously, it’s been a year of schooling unlike any other for our family. Last summer I made the decision to pull my 4 kids from the private school that we had been in for 8 years.  The decision was HARD but had many reasons behind it.  One of the kids wasn’t going to be able to go back because of some math challenges, so I pulled everyone.  What a whirlwind path that set us on!  I started the year by enrolling the two 7th grade girls in a homeschool program that had them on campus a couple of days a week for spanish, computers and science.  I enrolled the 2 boys in the local public school.  By November we had one of the 7th graders back at the Catholic school and the other enrolled in the local middle school.  After Christmas break both boys went back to the Catholic school.  And finally, after Easter break, the other 7th grader went back to the Catholic school.  The child with math challenges worked REALLY hard and ended the year with a C. With all the changes and challenges, I’m so proud of how well all of the kids did this year.  It was all crazy, but it was a “live and learn” situation.  I learned that you get what you pay for and that we can not match the level of education that the kids were used to at the Catholic school.  I also saw, very quickly, that there was so much more that they were getting from that environment.  There’s a sense of self-respect and accountability that is maintained by learning in a faith-based school.  

Lesson learned! ( I supposed I should add this to the Learning Lessons Series) Next year I will have 6 kiddos at the school, 2 8th graders, a 4th grader, a 1st grader and 2 preschoolers.  I will also be there everyday as an aide in the 4 yr. old preschool class that Gabi is not in.  Wow!  7 of us in one place everyday!  

Well, here’s to the end of a crazy, but successful school year and to the beginning of summer! 

Have a great day~

Last night I came into the kitchen to find bubbles pouring out of the dishwasher.  I knew right away that Maddi had put liquid dishsoap into the washer.

~Sigh~

This is one of those lessons that each of the kids seem to need to learn on their own.  So, I called her in, turned off the washer and handed her a bucket and a cup and told her to start baling out the bubbles and water.  To her credit, she did a great job of cleaning it all up and the dishes were extra clean by the time they got washer properly.

Had to laugh though because it was reminiscent of a movie scene.

Maddi, keeping her sense of humor and blowing the bubbles

Good night~

Easter is on it’s way!  This means that my older kiddos head home to celebrate.  This year it’s especially important for everyone to be together because of Clay’s upcoming, year-long deployment.  This is the last time the whole family will be together for a long time.  Kateri got into town 2 nights ago.  JJ’s plane came in last night.  But, when my phone rang at 4:30, yesterday morning, I knew it couldn’t be good news.  Sure enough, it was JJ, letting me know that he had fallen asleep at the bus station and missed his bus.  We’re always looking for the best, fastest, cheapest way to get him home and this time around had decided he would take a bus to the airport in Baltimore and then take a nonstop flight from there.  After hearing his words I said, “talk to your dad” and handed the phone to Clay.  JJ let him know that he could catch another bus in 4 1/2 hrs.  FOUR AND A HALF HOURS?!!!!!  Well, that not only would make him miss his plane, but every other plane to San Diego for the whole day.  So, the computer and phone started buzzing with the search for the best way to get him home.  We thought we could get him a ride back to the local airport and just buy him a one-way ticket from there.  But, he didn’t have much cash on him (even though we had sent plenty.  He’s amazingly generous and ended up with not much left for himself).  We tried to get him a cab and pay for it via credit card, over the phone.  NOPE!  Clay called the school to see if someone could pick him up.  NOPE!  It seemed that he was going to have to catch the next bus, show up at the Baltimore airport and spend the night in the USO.  Thank goodness for the USO!  Then the phone rang and one of the dorm fathers from the school just HAPPENED to be going to Baltimore and could pick him up from the bus station and get him to the airport.  He actually made it to his original flight and was home by 9 pm.  I was very thankful for the way things worked out, but can’t help but wonder if a lesson can be learned if everything always works out.  

~sigh~  

For now, I’m just happy to have all the kiddos at home for a few days.  We will have a reflective and prayerful Good Friday together and a joyous Easter.  I love these times!

Have a great day~

This evening we took the kids to an event, put on by the Family Readiness Group (FRG), that was at our local Chuck E. Cheese.  The kids had a great time and being a week night, the place was almost empty.  We used to take the older kids to Chuck E. Cheese every once in awhile, but as they’ve grown and the younger kiddos have come along, we’ve found ourselves going less and less.  This event had me thinking about those days when I would clip coupons and look for a great deal for a family day out.  All this thinking led me to remember a paper that Clay wrote on the very subject and with his permission I am going to reprint it here.  It was written about 4 years ago which means that Luke-Xavier, who enjoyed himself immensely tonight, hadn’t even joined the family yet!

First, here are a few pics of the kiddos having fun

the boys with Chuck E.

Luke-Xavier using ALL the blue sprinkles on his cookie

Clay, caught enjoying his time at Chuck E. Cheese

Enjoy the story!

It was a lazy, late Sunday morning at the Lang household.  We were in and out of Church early.  My obligations for the day were fulfilled.  I was looking forward to a quiet afternoon of couch, chips and collisions.  The collision part meaning playoff football.  My wife, Jenni, was clipping coupons out of the Sunday paper.  My last peaceful moment of the day was broken with Jenni’s exclamation, “hey, a coupon.”

Still not quite knowing that my peaceful universe was about to be shredded, I replied with a well meaning, if slightly sarcastic, “Well, honey, that IS what you are doing, right?  Clipping coupons?”  “Well, yes, but this one gave me an idea,” my beautiful bride innocently replied.

Warning alarms blared in my head.  In my marital experience “I have an idea” ranks up there with “I’ve been thinking.”  I quickly switched over to survival mode, slowly, surreptitiously, sinking into the couch.  My attention switched to overdrive; suddenly everything Howie Long had to say was of global importance.  My survival depended on it.  Please Howie, take me away!  I had become a fox, securely hidden in the remotest depths of my den.

My bride, having a bit of marital experience as well, quickly turned into a foxhound and charged into my den, dragging me back out.  “No, this is really a good idea,” she bayed.  With a morbid fascination compelling me to ascertain the instrument of my destruction, I asked the question, “Ok, what is your idea?”

“Well, this coupon is a, “buy a large deluxe pizza, get another for free.”  Plus, you get 40 free tokens,” she started…. Tokens?  I thought, Pizza?  That could only mean…  “At Chuck-E-Cheese,” she finished.  “So I was thinking (first, an idea and now, thinking – I’m hosed), being you don’t have anything going on, why don’t you take the kids?”

OH SHT!  I panicked.  Well, I would love to take them honey.  Except I just accidentally jammed both my thumbs into my eyes and swirled them around in the sockets so actually I have to go to the hospital now.  Or maybe I could just lay here on the couch and recover; perhaps I could just listen to the game until the pain goes away.  No, that won’t work Clay.  Nope, the best defense is a great offense.  Remember who you are:  Lieutenant Commander Clay Lang.  Naval Aviator, Ranger School graduate, Reconnaissance Marine, member of the team who took down the soccer stadium in Mogadishu, bringer of stability and security to East Timor, the man who flew into the pitch black dark to rescue (wait, I already told you that one), and most importantly, the Lord and Master of my domain.  Time to bring the offense and exert some AUTHORITY around here.

“HEEELLL No!”  I exploded.  “If you think that I’m going to give up my day off, my chance at a couple of beers and playoff football to go to some commercialized pizza joint run by a big rat you need to think again.”  I told her.  And now for the finale – I’ll sure tell her, “Take the kids to Chuck-E-Cheese, you must be out of your dang mind!”

So I’m driving the kids to the Chuck-E-Cheese on Sports Arena Drive.  I have shoe horned all eight children into the Suburban – sometimes I think I am the only person in San Diego who has a legitimate requirement for a full-sized SUV.  There is some initial squabbling about who sits where, but I quickly rectify that by breaking out the seating chart.  I am still hopeful that there will be some ruckus that will enable me to at least threaten to turn the car around, but my luck has already been shattered by a coupon in the Sunday paper.  The eerie, uncannily quiet trip is one I would imagine being similar to the last stroll of a Death Row Inmate.

We arrive.  That commercialized, magical place where “a kid can be a kid.”  And a parent can lose his mind.  The kids have already run ahead and by the time I arrive they are being held at the end of a long entrance area, the “safety stop.”  Security checkpoint, I thought as the fraulein in the green and red polyester getup begins her interrogation.  “Are these all yours?” she asks.  “Yes, but there have been rumors.”  I innocently reply.  There is no mistaking them for my children as they all have one common trait, the it just got flattened with a frying pan, nose.  She looks up at me from under her ring-adorned eyebrows.  She is not amused.  What do I care?  I thought.  I’m not the one wearing a hat with a big rat on it.  Eager to strengthen our new bond, I ask her while she is affixing matching plastic security bracelets if they ever thought of just micro chipping everyone.  After receiving the “gee, I’ve never heard that one before” look, I decide it’s time to move to the register.

Ordering time.  A few pizzas, drinks for everyone, and let’s not forget, more tokens.  And the total is – wait I have a coupon – sixty-five dollars.  As I shell out the cash, I notice a birthday party winding down.  Much of the food has been left, the kids have been too busy running around, losing their minds.  Even half the cake is left.  I humorously ask if I can cancel my order and just take over where they left off.  I again get the look beneath the big rat hat.  She hasn’t heard that one before, either.

Now the fun begins.  As I try to herd the kids into a yet unbussed booth large enough for everyone I spy a recently vacated high chair belonging to a family preparing to depart.  I politely ask if they are done with it.  Again, the look.  At this point I am starting to wonder if I have an enormous phallus growing straight out of my forehead.  “When we’re done with it,” I’m chastised.  As I go to check on my children, the family departs and a mom quickly swoops in on the high chair.  I’m out of luck.  Well I’ll just hold Gabbi (age 1) I thought, as I turn the kids loose to play.

Mayhem.  Absolute mayhem.  As Kateri (my oldest) divvies up the loot (tokens), everyone takes off in a different direction.  I try to take a minute to appraise my surroundings.  Yelling, screaming, pushing, shoving.  Kids walking up the ramp of the game were you roll the balls into the holes.  They are dropping the ball into the 800-point slot so they can win more tickets.  Maddi (age 7), hollers down from the top of the play structure that someone threw up in there.  I put Gabbi, the contortionist, down so I can check if Maddi has crawled through someone’s yak.  Max (3), is walking from video game to video game, putting in a token and walking away.  Tristan (6), wants to ride on the little four-seater merry-go-round.  There is a girl on it who is screaming that it’s her ride and she doesn’t want anyone else on; her mother explains to Tristan and another boy that they can’t ride until her daughter is done.  Max has put half his tokens in the machines and given the other half away.  He wants more.  Gabbi is trying to sit next to a little girl on a mechanical two-seater car.  Her dad takes Gabbi by the arm to pull her off.  We lock eyes.  He lets her go.  Gabbi runs past the security checkpoint.  The fraulein is off flirting with a couple of young men in Raiders hats and baggy pants, sporting their ink – Boyz in the Chuck-E-Cheese.  I see a woman changing a diaper on the floor right next to the play structure.  I pick up Gabbi; she’s ripe.  I tell Kateri she’s in charge – good luck – as I head towards the restroom.  I already know there won’t be a “diaper deck” in there like there is in the Women’s restroom.  Arianna (9), is playing a driving game.  A little boy runs up and grabs the wheel.  His father, a heartbeat behind, collects him.  He tells the boy it is not his turn yet and looks at me apologetically.  I ask, “you get sent here with a coupon too?”  Finally, an understanding laugh.

Pizza is here. By the time I load the platoon into the booth, the pizza is scarcely warm.  Across from me I see a chubby girl.  The pizza she is eating is sending down rivulets of translucent orange fat down her cheek, culminating into a large droplet under her chin.  If this were Alaska, she would be forming an orange icicle.  Her parents tell her if she doesn’t eat her food, she can’t go play.  My appetite is gone.  What am I doing here?  Why here instead of the half-dozen, half-empty parks we passed on the way?  Wouldn’t even need a coupon.  Unfortunately, it wouldn’t have flown with the kids.  For the umpteenth time, I eye the beer and wine on tap at the register.  I wonder if they could just run a hose from the tap to my booth.

Back to the mayhem.  More running around.  More settling disputes.  More tears.  More tokens.  Finally, mercifully, the tokens run out.  Now comes the hard part.  What pieces of worthless, made in Taiwan, crap do we buy with all these tickets?  For one, a whistle (it will never make it home). Another, a kazoo (ditto).  Next, a clacker (refer to the whistle and kazoo).  A plastic slinky, a rubber snake (this one WILL make it home, in fact, it will find its way under Jenni’s pillow).  JJ (12), wants to save up his tickets for a cool pen.  I pay the difference now.  There is no way I want to leave with any incentive to return.  Now we’re off to the security checkpoint.  Fraulein peels herself off gangster number one to make sure all my children are still mine.  She looks upset that I interfered with her romance.  I feel bad – not!

The ride home is much more reassuring than the ride to.  I now have the kids that I am accustomed to.  Gabbi has already fallen asleep in her car seat.  Max is right behind.  It is hard to believe that I have just spent sixty-five bucks when I could have experienced just as much mayhem by simply taking them for a car ride.  What is it with that place?  I ask myself.  It’s simple.  The countless commercials embedded in every kid show.  The smiling faces, fabulous games and prizes, wonderful food, singing and dancing creatures.  I only wish they would show the other side:  The vomit, the grease, the junk.  Three out of eight toys have already been broken.  Now I will just need to intercept a couple more before they make it to the house.

The answer is ridiculously simple; parent guilt.  The continual feeling that not only are we obligated to do everything within our mental and physical (and let’s not forget fiscal) ability, but that if we do not, then we are setting them up for almost certain failure down the road.  When you couple that with the simple fact that parents will spend outrageous amounts of money on their children (my friend has a personal trainer for his ten-year-old son), you end up with an extremely effective marketing tool.  The formula is brilliant.  Three easy steps:  1. Inundate every show that children watch (even those that they are not supposed to, but researches show that they do) with advertising.  2. Sit back and let the pleadings of the children mix with the guilt of the parents.  3.  Count the money as it rolls in hand over fist.  And as a bonus, throw in a coupon and you’ll reel in some more.  I feel more than a bit sheepish as we drive past those same half-empty parks on the way home.  What does it matter that you saved twenty when you still spent sixty-five?

Mom gets the unrated version as the children stream into the house.  Someone puked in the play structure.  Max gave all his tokens away.  A girl wouldn’t let Tristan ride the merry-go-round.  I get the “what were you doing if you weren’t supervising the children?” look.  Since she is six months pregnant with our ninth, I am happy to give her a little peace and quiet at home.  If only it didn’t involve Chuck-E-Cheese.  I almost feel guilty about the one good thing that came out of that place – the rubber snake in my back pocket – almost.  She often comments that I am nothing but a big kid myself.  Who am I to prove her wrong?  This is my home, where a kid can be a kid.

Slowly, the caffeinated beverages wear off on the children and we are able to get them off to bed.  Only two complained of stomachaches, so for that we are fortunate.  Later that night as I watch news clips of the great game I missed on Sports Center, Jenni comments, “When I was putting Tristan to bed he told me that he wants to have his birthday party at Chuck-E-Cheese.”

OH SHIT!  I panicked.  “What?  I don’t care if it is double coupon day for his birthday.  The last thing you are going to do is to get me to throw Tristan’s birthday party there.  I’d rather throw a pool party at a leper colony.  Throw Tristan’s birthday party at Chuck-E-Cheese.  You must be out of your dang mind!”

The Spring Cleaning Bug bit me today and I’ve been scrubbing the kitchen like it hasn’t been scrubbed in…….oh, let’s see…..a year!  But all this cleaning and scrubbing brought me to a moment of wanting to share a quick reminder about cleaning.

When cleaning, start at the top and move down.  Geesh!  This is something we all know, but I could have used a reminder!  I looked at the floor and thought, “I’m going to tackle this kitchen today.”  After the floor I started the counters, the stove and the cupboards.  Guess what?!  It’s time to do the floor again!

Happy Spring Cleaning to all~

As a parent, one of our biggest and often toughest jobs is teaching our kiddos the lessons they need to lead a successful, happy and productive life.  It would all be so much “easier” and “peaceful” if we could just take the hands-off approach and give in to every whim, want and fit.  But that wouldn’t be parenting.  That would simply be existing.  Sometimes I’m tempted to exist because I’ve taught the same lessons over and over with each child.  

Lately I’ve had a morning issue with one of my younger kiddos who’s learning (or needing to learn) some time management skills.  Every morning he drags behind in the routine and often forgets to put things into his backpack or to brush his teeth.  This means I’m constantly reminding and rushing him.  Often times all the other kids will be in the car and he’ll still have no shoes on, no backpack ready and his teeth are unbrushed.  It makes me want to pull my hair!  I’m trying different ideas to keep him on task, but so far none have worked.  I’m getting ready to make him a check list that he can carry with him in the mornings.  

This morning when everyone was in the car and I had to come back into the house to move him along, I handed him his backpack and he started complaining that he was cold and needed a sweatshirt and was thirsty and needed water.  I decided to teach a lesson about being uncomfortable because of your own actions.  I told him that he’d just have to get a drink at school and that he’d have to feel a little cold today because he didn’t get his uniform together in a timely manner and that every time he feels cold today that he will have a chance to remember that if he had gotten things together on time that he’d be warm.  

Harsh?  Maybe!  But I’m betting he’ll think about it.  And for all of you who are thinking what a mean M.O.M. I am……we live in San Diego for goodness sake!  It’s not like he’s in Pittsburgh fighting snow in a tee shirt!  

Have a great day~

Oh Dear Lord! There’s more to all of this than I thought!

So, with yesterday being Day 1 of my new commitment to my overall health, I put on a t-shirt and yoga pants and drug out my nikes. I stood in the kitchen, ready to get the kids off to school and then embark on my big walk, when my 14-yr. old said, “Mom, your underwear is cutting into your bum.” Nice! Here is the conversation that followed;

Me: Yes, Mariah, I know. What would you like me to do?
Mariah: When you wear yoga pants you can’t wear underwear.
Me: What?!

She simply laughed at me and walked out the door. Well, I have friends who workout regularly, so I sat down with my phone and shot a couple of texts explaining my dilema;

Me: is it true that you don’t wear underwear with yoga pants?
Friend one: Mom’s should ALWAYS wear underwear (by the way I really appreciated this answer!). Buy boy-cut panties.
Me: what about today?
Friend one: Deal with the panty lines.

Friend two: it’s called a thong!

So there you have it! Not only did I have to get my head around the commitment to workout, I had to learn the ins and outs of the fashion behind (or should I say, under) the whole thing.

Now, make no mistake, I know the rules of underwear (top and bottom) for everyday and special event clothing, but truly did not think about the whole thing when it came to putting on workout clothing and heading out for a walk.

Well, now I know and so do you!

Have a great day~

We all have our “Boxes”. These are the things that make us uncomfortable and make us want to hide from what we must face. Sometimes having a box is a good thing. But, as parents we need to be careful of trying to place our children in our boxes. We should not put our fears and unease on the kids. I’ve been forced to learn this lesson over some of our schooling issues. It’s a good lesson! Through parenting and watching my children grow, I’m being forced out of my box and am learning to see my children’s strengths.

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 Mom 49 [10:07m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download (272)

Saying “I’m sorry” can be a powerful tool. There are those days when parenting can get the best of us and we raise our voice or put the kids off or become unfocused. Going back to the kids and simply saying, “I’m sorry” and “I love you” can make all the difference.

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 MOM 46 [6:44m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download (86)

It’s been a couple of tough weeks around here and I’ve had to face up to the fact that part of the problem is that I wasn’t taking my own advice. When summer began and the kids came home, I stopped writing the Morning Memo, stopped writing a detailed schedule and didn’t do a very good job of enforcing the chores. I, somehow, thought that everything that I had put into place would just keep running itself. WRONG! So, now I’m picking up the pieces and getting back to business. In letting things slide, I’ve realized that some of my kids’ behavior also slid. Geesh! Everything is connected!

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Good night~

 

 MOM 38 [10:22m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download (130)