An Ironic Assignment

For years my BFF and I have had a re-occurring conversation about homework. Although we have differing opinions on a lot of subjects, we agree 100% on homework. We both think it should be abolished and banned from every school worldwide.

We complain to each other about worksheets, book reports, science fair projects and just about anything else that comes home in our children's backpacks.

So I found it very ironic when I took on an assignment to write an article titled, "Five tips for getting homework done without a fight."

Whhaaattt??

I couldn't bring myself to tell Melanie about my assignment, even though writing the article gave me a little added stress for a couple of weeks. Though typically a big cheerleader of my writing, I figured this one she would outright laugh at.

I really wish I had the nerve to send it to my daughter's second grade teacher, but I don't. (And please, nobody out there forward it to her!) Because really, I don't even think homework should be given to elementary school children AT ALL. Let alone on Fridays and holidays.

I strongly dislike homework. In fact, I'd even bring myself to use the "H" word on this one. I HATE homework--nonetheless it is probably here to stay.

And so I dedicate this article to my dear friend, Melanie.

Five tips for getting homework done without a fight...
(click on the link to read).

PS-If you're a teacher or a parent, please share with me your opinion on homework!

Big News

It's official!
Feel free to send me cards of congratulations.
Send me flowers.
Buy me chocolates.
Call or text me to congratulate me.
Make me a tray of Rice Krispie treats
Announce it from the rooftops
Sing it from the hills.
It's official.

After 13 years and 3 months, without so much as a week break in between kids--I am FINISHED with DIAPERS!!!!!
Drew is potty trained.

I can't even begin to tell you the relief I feel from the "potty training anxieties" I have had for longer than I can remember. (Remember this post HERE from 2009?) I know, I know. People potty train their kids every day. And some change diapers for longer than I did. But I also know nearly all of my friends/family have had breaks in between kids. I haven't, so this is a VERY big deal to me.

I'm not quite sure exactly what I'm going to do to celebrate. But I'm going to do something BIG. I deserve it. Potty training five kids and thirteen straight years of changing diapers deserves something.
Doesn't it?

Congratulations to ME!

And to Drew too.
Oh and I can't forget Ellie--she's the one that got him to go potty the most.

And in case you are wondering, no he still doesn't wear clothes. So instead of seeing photos of my diaper-clad toddler on here, you will now be seeing photos of my UNDERWEAR-clad toddler.
It is what it is.
We love him anyway.

The 5% Part of Motherhood

A couple of weeks ago, Drew entered my room at 5:41am. After turning on the bedroom light he declared, "Want bef-fast." I found absolutely nothing endearing about the moment. The next couple of hours didn't go so well either. It was probably no coincidence that at about 8:45 that same morning I read an article on the Power of Moms site that was timely. My friend, April authored a fabulous article, "It's Not Just You" that in essence dissects the 95% of motherhood that isn't glamorous and the 5% that is glamorous.

Any mother knows that her using the word "glamorous" in the context she did is not describing fancy meals, limousine rides and diamond bracelets. She is referring to those beautiful, everyday moments that we wish could last forever, but are often nothing more than fleeting moments amidst the typical chaos and mayhem that usually reigns supreme.

I left a comment on her post acknowledging its timeliness for me. I also expressed optimism that though my day had started out as a 95% type of day, I was optimistic it would be interspersed with at least a few 5%'s.

It wasn't really the article that filled my mind for the next few hours, it was the idea of "5%". I was bound determined, despite the rough start to the day that I was going to find my "5%" no matter how hard I had to look.

Turns out I didn't have to look very far.

You see the early, rough start to the day made me pretty lazy and slow for the morning. I lacked any real motivation to get going. I was still wearing my bathrobe and pajamas when I plopped down on my bed to answer a text message on my phone. Before I knew it, I found myself in the thick of "5%". 

Joshua wanted me to read him a book, and with no desire to conquer the to-do list just yet, I obliged. Of course Drew soon climbed aboard the bed with us. Within moments the book was tossed aside and an all-out tickle and pillow fight ensued.



I think April just happened to use an arbitrary number when she wrote her article. I'm sure there are no scientific studies to back up her claim, although there are plenty of mothers that would! I'm one of them. 5% isn't much, but when you're in the thick of it, it's everything.

Here's to another 5% day. 

Uniqueness and Rudeness

I'd let the pictures tell the story, but
a. I'm not really a very good photographer and
b. I'm really not good at not saying anything.

But I promise to only say a little about...

The Cub Scout Pinewood Derby

I love Luke's individuality. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE that Luke doesn't care a WHIT about whether or not he has a fast car. He wants something he loves. He wants something that depicts him. And so yes, for his third (and final!) Pinewood Derby "car" he made a truck. This time with a trailer no less. (The (toy) livestock in the back of the truck made it BARELY too heavy to race, so they stayed with me in the spectator section.)

You know, it's kind of funny. I had so much more I was going to say but have changed my mind because of this:

Mike went to the rec center tonight to do some lap swimming. He just barely returned and said to me,
 "I saw Bryan (my BFF's husband) as I came out of the locker room and before I think he even said 'hi' he said, "nice outfit." 
This grabbed my attention and as I looked up at my dear, handsome husband I saw he was wearing his swimsuit, a coat and cowboy boots.

And with that mental picture in your mind, you can better understand what a great quality my son has developed from his father. They don't care what other people think of them.

Who cares if some other Cub Scouts can't abide by the simple adage "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."? I love Luke's individuality. I love that Luke is probably the least competitive person I have ever known (also inherited from Mike) even though the rude comments over and over from a couple of kids about his truck being slow and never winning any of the rounds put a slight damper on his evening. The confidence of individuality is well worth it.

(Luke's trailer carrying his Pinewood Derby "car" from two years ago that Drew claimed as his own.)

Glad we are finished with Pinewood Derbys for four years or so!
Wish I could say the same about all Boy Scout meetings.

Enough said.
Don't get me started.
The end.

Nostalgic Playing

The other day I picked my boys up from playing at my parent's house. Joshua and Drew had a little "Town Mat" spread out with Hot Wheels cars arranged just so on it. Our need to leave seemed too premature to my boys, and so to accommodate a more timely departure I asked permission for us to borrow the mat for a couple of days.

Oh boy has it been a big hit!

It isn't that I'm really a big fan of Hot Wheels cars. And it certainly isn't the fact that I love getting down on my stomach and making "vrmm vrmm" sounds. It's the fact that I remember distinctly playing with this mat (that my mother made!) for hours as a child.

I loved the church that had a roundabout close to it, just as ours did.

 I loved the shops she chose to use that were shops we frequented.

I love the houses that as a child I thought nothing of because that's how houses were where I lived, but made Joshua ask, "Why are all the houses stuck together."

I love the school that is remarkably similar to my Alma Mater, Cheam Park Farm Junior School.

I couldn't help but tear up slightly as I "vrmm-ed" little cars around it with my children the other day. In a weak moment of nostalgia I committed myself to making one for Drew for his 3rd birthday. With landmarks, icons and store-fronts that he will hopefully remember one day as fondly as I do this one.

"Nana's mat" that Drew affectionately named it has been returned to its home in my parent's "sleepover room". I won't be shy about admitting that I'm hoping this sentimental spiel will convince my parents to make any necessary adjustments to their legal will stating that I should be given highest priority in receiving this mat at the appropriate time. It needs to be with someone that will love it, protect it and care for it.

I know I'm the right person. I can see me now having the same conversation about roundabouts and attached houses in 30 years with my grand-kids that I had the other day with my kids.

How's that for stirring up a little family drama?

A Valid Question

I am repeatedly asked if all three of my boys are cowboys. I pretty much give the same response every time.

Through absolutely no influence of ours, Luke "became" a cowboy when he was about five years old. Despite my dad buying Luke his first pair of cowboy boots one summer evening, it really wasn't until I saw Luke dressed in Wranglers, a belt buckle and a cowboy hat a couple of months later that I knew this was probably not just a phase.

I was right.

Even though Joshua received his first pair of cowboy boots before he was even two. I was determined to let him "choose" his own way and not do something just because of Luke. For Joshua's third birthday all he asked for was "a cowboy hat and Wranglers." Really, the rest is history. That kid doesn't even own a pair of jeans that aren't Wranglers.

Along came Drew. Despite receiving some new cowboy boots before he was two years-old, I've committed to let him choose his own interests too.

So, when I am asked the question, "Are all three of your boys cowboys?" I tell them, it is probably too early to tell if Drew will follow suit.

Except the other day, when I poked my head out the mudroom door and saw this:

Perhaps I have the answer after all.

Deliberate Thinking

What a wonderful evening Mike and I had on Friday night at another Power of Moms Couples Workshop. No matter how many times I attend or present at a Power of Moms Workshop or Retreat, I am amazed at the new stuff I learn from other great mothers and in this case, some great dads too.  

While I love all the Power of Moms stuff, there is something really unique about occasionally, dads being a part of it too.  It's been interesting to see Mike's enthusiasm for this stuff increase. Even though I would always have considered him a pretty deliberate father, he was quite hesitant to attend the first Power of Moms Couples Retreat last fall in Park City. He went purely to support me, yet came away with so much more than a happy and content wife.

Back to Friday night.

We spent two and a half hours discussing ways to be more deliberate in our parenting and how to create family systems that will help make strong families. It didn't matter that some couples had younger children or some had older. It didn't matter that some couples had more children than others. What mattered, was that thirteen couples were gathered together in one place talking about their families. What a feeling!

Despite being slightly mortified that Mike and I gave into peer pressure and sang our family rule song, it was a wonderful evening.

I've told you before and I'll tell you again. Finding the Power of Moms just about two years ago has been life changing for me. There hasn't been an article, program, or event that I have been a part of that I haven't learned something from.

Indeed, a fine place for mothers to gather. Check it out HERE.