Always prepared

"Mom, you need to make a mom bag for dad's car," said the oldest child. "He has nothing."
Pray, child, whatever do you mean? I have seen your father's car and know that cannot be true. He has empty water bottles and random pieces of clothing and golf balls. He has way more than nothing.
Apparently, he doesn't have chapstick or a brush or a lint roller or sunglasses or band-aids or tweezers or a pen and paper or hair ties or baby wipes - you know the things that most people have in their cars.
Now, I understand why most men have clean cars and women do not. I had the painful realization of this a few months ago when I borrowed my father's car while mine was in the shop. His car, although at least two years old, looked like it had never been driven. There was no dirt, no balled up tissues, no straw wrappers - nothing to suggest that people lived in that car. Oh wait, I said lived in when I should have said drive. He drives his car from Point A to Point B. He gets in, goes and gets out. He doesn't have to buoy his purse somewhere so that all the stuff doesn't fall out but he can still reach it when he needs a piece of gum. He doesn't have to carry four water bottles or lunches. He doesn't live in his car.
Moms like me have the kind of car where we could survive in it for a few days. We have extra clothes, blankets, first aid kits, bottles of water, snacks, activities. We can make it through at least a week stuck on the side of the road, I'm sure.
And maybe I don't need six blankets, 12 rain ponchos, 4 tubes of sunscreen, shin guards, a portable potty and 6 ice packs. But, guess what kids? Someone else has needed them because every one of those things in my trunk have gone to use.
I learned to stockpile my car because there always seems to be a need. And I always seemed to have the things in my car that other people needed but not the things I need or my kids need. And I also realize that the reason I need to be so prepared in my car and in my giant purse is because I don't prepare well enough at home.
Like, if maybe I put deodorant on in the house, I wouldn't need to carry it in my purse and put it on while waiting at a red light. Or if I remembered to put a water bottle in the kid's lunch, she wouldn't need to grab one out of the case in the back of the car.
I guess I am prepared for being unprepared. I know that I will forget so many things so I keep extras of those things in my car/second home. Now that that's said, I will go and get ready for work - and hopefully remember that deodorant.

That one friend

Every day, when I pray for my kids, I ask for a lot of things -  health, happiness, good choices, dedication, a good husband, hard work, pure thoughts. But, one of the most important things I pray for is that they are surrounded by wholesome people who enrich their lives. People that they can trust. People who will listen to them and have their backs and be honest and loyal. It's very hard to get that when you're a teenager. You may think you have it, but then you end up with that girl who drops you for every new boy that looks her way or talks about you behind your back. 

I realized that even more yesterday when I got an unexpected gift from a friend. Now, this lady is a true gem. She's one of those people who has a lot on her plate, but still manages to pile on more. She rarely says no and puts everyone before herself. She knows how to have a good time and takes care of herself, but when there is work to be done, she picks up a shovel and starts digging. Yesterday, she went out of her way to drop off Valentine's Day gifts to my family. Not something she grabbed at the drug store - a handmade card and a gift that took time to put together. And good chocolate - not some crappy stuff you get for $1.99 a bag. I may or may not know this because I may or may not have eaten a piece of Dove chocolate for breakfast.

We are blessed to have this woman and her family in our lives. Their Acts of Service (if you haven't read The Five Love Languages, do yourself a favor and read it!) show us their love and friendship. I would much rather have a friend who brings a ladder over to my house to rescue my cat from the roof (yes, she did that) than someone who says "love ya" in a text and can't even remember my kids' names. And I'm sure I don't tell her enough how much she means to me (since I'm an Acts of Service love language person myself) but know that I should because I want my kids to know that this is the kind of friend they want in their lives.

They want the kind of friend who tells them when they are doing something stupid rather than taking a video of that stupidity and posting it on social media. They want a friend who asks them if they want to study together rather than boasting about their 98 average in your hardest class. They want a friend who makes them laugh until their sides hurt rather than one who makes them cry until their heart hurts. They want a friend who will pick them up and never push them down.

So, that is my prayer for my kids and for yours. That they surround themselves with those good people every day of their lives. 

Get busy living

Yesterday, I read the obituary of a brilliant, well-regarded and much-loved local woman whose light on earth was snuffed out way too soon after a hard-fought battle with cancer. It was the most beautiful obituary I had ever read. It made me cry and smile at the same time because it showed the true spirit that she had and shared with the world.

Not one time did it say "she lived life to the fullest." That would have been too cliche. It was clear that she savored special moments and took pleasure in the little things. A lot of times, when people suffer a loss so devastating they begin thinking they should "live life to the fullest" or "live every day as if it's your last." But do we really do that? Do we live each day as if tomorrow will never come?

It's easy to say, but not so easy to do. I know that she lived that way before her diagnosis and didn't let that awful demon stop her from loving and sharing and shining. Everyone around her knew it. She accepted the fact that her days were fleeting, but instead of curling up on her couch and crying, she shared her journey with all of us in a raw and powerful way. It takes a remarkable kind of person to do that.

So, do we read the obituary and promise ourselves that we are going to really take life and ride it like a comet and then actually do that? Maybe. I wish I could say I would do that. My reality, like many of us, is that we celebrate the amazing woman she was and hope that we could be as inspiring as her and then fall back into the everyday routines of our lives. But that is where she was the most inspiring. It was the little things in life that she talked about being the most precious. Her memories of silly moments and funny faces - those are the things we can cherish. We don't necessarily need to run out and go skydiving or travel to Europe or ride a roller coaster. But, we should look at the things in our lives that we take for granted and focus on them.

Stop taking a picture of the sunset and just watch it melt into the horizon. Stop worrying if your kid should take another cello lesson and just smile at the squawking chords. Stop yelling at our kid to clean up their room and kick the clothes out of the way before you jump on their bed and watch them play a video game.

I think that is the message. This life is fleeting. It's like a nanosecond when you compare it to your everlasting life. So, let's just try to stop sweating the little things. Let's smile more. Be kinder to people. Let the person cutting you off in traffic just go ahead of you. Let your kid stay up a little later sometimes.

And do yourself a favor - if you haven't read Erica Chase-Salerno's blog posts, do it today. Also, please consider donating to her children's education fund and help them shine as bright as their mama did!
https://www.legacy.com/obituaries/dailyfreeman/obituary.aspx?n=erica-chase-salerno&pid=191491314

Mom hair

The other day, I asked my Girl Scout troop if they ever thought what they would look like when they get older. Would they have the same style? Would they still have the same hairstyle? These are girls who have seen my prom picture so you can imagine that an entire discussion ensued about big hair and 80s fashion. Of course, they think it's so very funny to laugh at this old lady. And then I remind them that it was my generation that made acid wash and ripped jeans a trend and that we rocked denim jackets and cropped sweaters before they did. And that shuts them up because they don't want to admit that their moms were once cool and actually wore mom jeans before mom jeans were called mom jeans.

And just after that discussion, I received some old photographs from my aunt that I had never seen before. They were of my mom at different ages. From the time I was born until she died nearly four years ago, my mother rocked at least a dozen different hair styles. Back in the 70s, there was a wig involved to give her a bouffant. In the 80s, she wore curlers to bed every night. She had big hair, short hair, brown hair, blondish hair, grey hair, white hair. And it didn't just change in her adulthood. In every one of those old photos, she was in a different hairstyle. I barely even recognized her in a bob. Sometimes she had curls, sometimes not. I'll never know why my mother changed her hair so much. Maybe she was bored. Maybe she was insecure about it. But, I do know that it was always different. And I also know that my kids have never seen me with different hair.

Sure, they've seen photos of the mullet, the shaved sides, the perm (oh Lord, the perms!), the bangs, the sun-in. But, in real life, they've only seen the brown, pin-straight, no-bangs, shoulder-length hair. Is this my mom hair? Is this the hair I will have for the rest of my life?

How will you know? Is there an age when you just decide that this will be your hairstyle forever? It's got to be much easier for guys, right? Do they worry about their part? Do they think about the color? Do they imagine that their hairstyle defines them?

Obviously, the style we choose may not be the most trendy or fashion-forward. If it was, they wouldn't have so many Mom Makeovers on the Today Show. Not that I really care about trends. My idea of doing my hair is washing it, combing it and leaving the house. I don't need hair that needs maintenance. So maybe I will stick the hairdo I have. It's plain and boring and easy to manage. Or I could always get a perm. I think my kids would love that.

Anything but vegan

Oh Sweet Mother Moses, my oldest daughter is thinking about becoming a vegetarian!
It started a few months ago when she gave up beef. Then, she gave up pork (She waited until she ate a Cuban sandwich in Miami before doing it though!)
She's been doing really well with her plan. Unfortunately, the only protein she eats is chicken. No eggs. No fish. No turkey.
So, guess what we eat for dinner nearly every night of the week? Yup, chicken.
Now, I'm not a bad cook, but I'm starting to feel like Bubba in Forrest Gump listing all the types of chicken I've been making. There's teriyaki chicken. Chicken empanadas. Chicken Francese. Chicken Piccata. Chicken cutlets. Buffalo chicken. You get the picture.
But, what the heck am I going to do if this kid really throws in the towel on the meat game and stops eating chicken?
I've been formulating a plan to make her go and live with my father. He's been a vegetarian for more than 30 years and would be the perfect cooking companion for her. But, I like my daughter and wouldn't force her to live with my dad so that plan is out the window. Maybe, I could get him to make her some meals. He likes to make pizza with his "pepperoni" and "sausage". Seriously, dad, if you're going to eat processed meats at least eat REAL meat!
I told her that if she was really serious about this, she'd have to pitch in. I am certainly not cooking two dinners a night. So, she started an instagram page (Vegeteenian) and is now collecting recipes for her new vegetarian lifestyle. She wants to be a chef, but I stymie that dream because her cooking means hours of me cleaning the kitchen when she is done. I guess I will have to cave and let her have at it because I don't know if I can handle another night of chicken or pasta.
Today, she sent me a bazillion texts about cheese and how it's not vegetarian because it has rennet in it and then she began to tell me what rennet was and I told her to stop telling me what is in my food. Believe me, I spent much of my life with a father telling me to "kiss the hot dog before you eat it" because hot dogs are full of pig lips and other parts. Now, I have my kid telling me I can't have gorgonzola on my salad because it contains something from an animal? Come on! She's killing me.
If she becomes a vegan, I will lose my mind.
Tomorrow, for dinner, I'm going to have a bacon burger with four different kinds of cheese. I may fry an egg and put it on top. And I'm going to eat it on bread with extra gluten. She can fend for herself.

Higher Standards

Yesterday, I realized that I am not cut out to be the mother of an 8th grader.

I don't really know why I keep putting myself into situations where I have to be in constant contact with tweens and teens (PTA, Girl Scouts, etc) because I just don't get them.
When people say, "Don't you remember what it was like being that age?" I can honestly say "No." I don't remember. Not because it was 30+ years ago, but because it really wasn't a memorable time in my life. And, if 8th grade was anything like it is now, I really don't want to remember it.

I mean, I do remember the people, but not the situations. I don't remember there being a lot of fights in school and bullies and girls dressed like hoochies and kids yelling at teachers. I'm sure when I was 13 everything seemed important and I was probably dramatic and cared what people thought of my acid-washed jeans. But, I don't think it consumed me like it does with so many kids today.

What the heck is going on in our schools and our society? Why is it okay for kids to talk back to adults, disobey rules, shirk responsibility and disrespect themselves, their peers and their elders?

Why don't kids have any punishment or consequences? Why are kids allowed to just do and say whatever they want with no repercussions? WE are the adults here. Why are we not taking charge? Why are we letting our kids come home and tell us stories about fights in their schools every day and letting that information slide off our backs like it's acceptable?

I hear these moms talk about their kids and their groups of friends and say "They're good kids." But, meanwhile, those good kids are in your basement watching fight videos and making fun of one girl's clothes and another boy's sexuality.

I guess my definition of good is different. Being a good kid doesn't mean getting good grades. Being a good kid doesn't mean not committing crimes. It means you're the kind of kid that doesn't exclude a girl from a conversation because she "stole" your boyfriend. It means you're the kind of kid that doesn't push past someone in the locker room because he looked at you funny. When you're a good kid, you don't smile at someone and then talk about them behind their back. You don't make fun of them and say "just kidding." You don't stand around watching kids fight and then later watch it on a Snapchat video.

Is that why we don't do anything about this wave of jerkness running rampant through our neighborhoods. What do I care? My kids are "good". They get good grades. They participate in sports. They work. They volunteer. They don't punch anyone in the cafeteria. Why should it bother me that kids hear cursing and slurs and verbal attacks and sexual innuendo while they may just be trying to get through their jelly sandwich and carrot sticks? Why should I care when I see a student disrespect a teacher? Why should I care that my child is following a kid on Instagram who acts like a hoodlum?

Someone very wise recently told me that the problem in society now is that we keep getting further away from God. I am in complete agreement with that. But, even if you aren't, you've got to believe that we are becoming more and more comfortable with a lack of respect, loose morals and lower standards of values. The people who are acting badly without consequence seem to outweigh the good. Kids see their peers cursing and sassing teachers and not getting in trouble. Kids see their peers not trying hard in class and not caring. Kids see everyone get treated the same way no matter if they deserve that treatment or not. So, why should kids even try? So, I study every night and get good grades and listen to the teacher, but the kid sitting next to me never does his homework and mouths off to the teacher? Huh. He gets to do that and get away with it, so why should I even bother? I don't get special treatment for my hard work, but he gets special attention for being bad?

When kids are bad in school, they get in-school restriction. What the heck is that you ask? Oh, that's the punishment you get for being bad. You get to skip class and go sit in a room and be on your phone all day. Wow. Tough punishment. If I had that in high school instead of after-school detention (or worse, before-school detention), I probably would have gotten in trouble a lot more.

But now, more kids see that the bad behavior is what gets the attention. And they see that bad behavior has no consequence. So what is keeping them from giving up and just becoming the bad kid? More often than not, it's their PARENTS. Yes, you. The people at home that are weaving their moral fiber. When I was a misbehaving child at school. I had a mother who would punish me at home. My friends all had parents like that. If you got in trouble in school, the punishment was usually worse at home! What do we have now? We have parents that fight with school administrators and teachers and demand that their children are treated "fairly." So, the schools back off and let the kids get away with too much. Listen, I don't expect the school to be the only disciplinarian in my child's life, but I certainly expect it to be a place where they feel safe, where they don't have to be subjected to violence and where they know that if they do something wrong, they will be called on it.

We have got to stop catering to the lowest common denominator. We have got to start holding people accountable for bad actions and holding them to higher standards. I know some kids have nothing to look forward to when they go home, so isn't it our job to make sure they have something to look forward to when they get to school? I want my kids to respect authority. If my kid is being a little snot to you, set her straight and then make sure you let me know about it. I have a drawer of wooden spoons waiting.

Not a dreamer

This morning, the photo that scrolled across my computer screen was from the library of my youngest child. It said "Just because your dreams didn't come true doesn't mean mine won't."
WHAT?
Wait. Is that directed at me or is it just one of those random poetic thoughts that tweens and teens have? I mean, was this from her old phone or was it recent? I'm wracking my brain trying to think of the last time I hooked up her phone to download photos. Or is this from the Cloud and she wrote it yesterday? She's already left for school so I can't ask her and now I have to wonder for the rest of the day if she thinks that I think that my dreams haven't come true.
I will admit, I am not a dreamer. I don't have lofty goals or big plans. I just want to be alive, be happy and watch my kids do great things. I try to encourage them every day to believe in themselves and their abilities and to have ambition and drive. But, if I'm happy with the status quo, does that mean that they will be too?
I'm sure there are times when I discourage them from doing certain things because I think they will end in complete failure and disappointment. Yes, it's a hard part of parenting to watch your kids fail and be sad or disappointed. But, it's a necessary part of parenting. Kids do need to learn that not everyone can be in first place (unless you play youth rec sports - then everyone gets a trophy no matter if they are undefeated or never won a game).
When I was a kid, I was encouraged by one parent and discouraged by another. I never had the mindset to be wildly successful at anything. I have some talent and skill so I can find a good job. I feel like I am one of those people that is pretty good at a lot of things but not great at any one thing. I don't want my kids to feel that way. I want them to understand reality, but also want them to also have big dreams. Can you have dreams and not be a dreamer?
I wonder if both of my parents had made me believe that I could do anything, would I have taken a different path in life? Maybe not. When I was a teen, I wanted to be a lawyer and I was told that lawyers didn't have earring up and down their ears like I did. Hmm. Is that the reason I didn't go to law school? I mean, my sister had the same parents as me and she did well in school and is super smart. Did they secretly encourage her or did she just not listen to the negativity? When I tell my kids the realities of life, do they think I am knocking down their dreams?
Great, now I'm going to spend the rest of the day worried that I haven't supported their dreams and they are going to hate their menial jobs and have to go to therapy where they will determine that every bad thing that has happened in their lives could have been avoided if they had a better mother.
Man, sometimes this parenting thing is just hard. No, not just sometimes. All the time. Here's to all you dreamer parents out there.

Old Yeller

When I was a kid, I was not allowed to yell from one room to another to get someone's attention. If I yelled from my room to my sister's room, I would get in trouble. If I yelled from the couch to my mother in the kitchen, I would get punished. It was a huge issue for my mom. She wouldn't tolerate "yelling from room to room". I never knew what the big deal was. I'm here. You're there. I need to ask you something and the quickest way for me to do it is to raise my voice enough so you can hear me from your location.

As is the case with most of the things I didn't see as a problem when I was a teenager, my mother was right again. I just didn't know it until my kids were gifted with Air Pods. Holy Moses are these things on my last nerve. Before, if my kids were listening to something, I could tell because I could see the large headband covering their head or the wires trailing from their ears. Now? I think they are just ignoring me half the time because I can't see those dumb white nubs stuck in their ears. Seriously, they could be five feet from me and not hear me. And if you know me, you know that I am not quiet. How could they not hear me? I can hear me. The neighbors can probably hear me.

So, what Apple magician decided to make these things resistant to a mother's voice? Are they really drowning me out or can they not actually hear me? I think it's the latter, because they can't hear anything I say whether it's "come help with groceries" or "the dog is eating your shoe" or "do you want ice cream for dinner?"

And now I have resorted to yelling again. Even if they are right near me. Because I never know if they are listening to me or Post Malone.