Parental Advisory

Warning: Parental advice is for mature audiences only.

With # 4 on the way, we’re anticipating the arrival of this little girl to see how different she’ll be from her sisters. Each kid is special and we’re wondering how one more little girl is going to change our family.  So I’ve started thinking about how we fulfill our parental duties. As parents, we know that no one else can supply the basics, love them and provide a secure home like we can. We bear in mind that our kids absorb everything that we expose them to in life. We do our best to love and support our children and know that is our joy to relish in their successes and to guide them through their failures.

The most basic foundation from our perspective on parenting is attitude. Often we have to remind each other to have a positive attitude so our children will also have a positive attitude. When we have adult concerns about anything in life, we’re very careful how we voice our concerns in front of the children. Kids pick up on your attitudes and beliefs, adopt it as their own and take it to heart. Dealing with the normal stress of life, we have to remember that a child’s job is to be a child. We don’t unnecessarily involve our children in adult concerns.  Being a kid is tough enough. We don’t want them to worry or become too involved in adult problems then likely develop negative or apathetic attitudes. Bad attitudes can certainly contribute to discipline problems. With Paul’s insane schedule, it takes some effort to find the proper time to discuss things but we think it’s worth it.

Before we were married, Paul and I discussed and agreed upon fundamental discipline guidelines. Of course, Lexi was a large part of our parenting discussion. During our engagement, Lexi was doing her best to push her boundaries and we only had one unpleasant incident that Paul still jokingly refers to as, “The Great Cookie Incident of 2006.”

Late one night after readying herself for bed, Lexi asked me if she could have a chocolate chip cookie. I said no because it was bedtime and thought that was the end of it. Well, Lexi didn’t think so and skipped over to Paul to ask him for a chocolate chip cookie (I bet she even fluttered her eyelashes).  Paul was blindsided with his first parent vs. child battle.  He happened to be nibbling on aforementioned chocolate chip cookie and even worse he wasn’t fully prepared to handle Lexi’s arsenal of parental weapons. She hit him with her best shot – the guilt grenade.  Paul, of course, felt accountable for her wanting a cookie so his first thought was to give her a cookie.  He attempted to convince me in front of Lexi to let her have a cookie (Big mistake, buddy).  He thought it wasn’t a big deal and she could brush her teeth again before bed.  I listened quietly but inside I was heatedly piecing together my argument and rehashing our past parental conversations.  The silent fury underneath managed to make its presence known in my response, “I said no.”  That was that. When Lexi finally did go to bed, we discussed how we were going to have to support each other in order to not fall victim to wimpy parenting. We both made a parental vow to always put on a unified front even when we think the other is wronger than wrong. In a one parent vs. kid situation, we agreed to support each others' decisions (even if we disagree) then if needed discuss it away from little ears.  Later, we could regroup and come to a more agreeable decision. Support and encourage each other as parents because you cannot do it alone. Raising children is as hellish as war. Promise each other to never let your children see the tiniest chink in your armor, otherwise, you’re as good as dead.

The toughest part about being a parent is maintaining strength. Parenting isn't a popularity contest. Your kids will not like you sometimes. So what. Think of all the other people who also have to deal with your kid. This is a shout out to all the grandparents, extended family members, teachers, daycare workers, church workers, sports parents and carpool drivers. These people can only do so much. It is your job as parents to turn out a good kid!  Don’t expect society to fill in the gaps you missed. This would be a good time to apologize for being soap-boxy but I have more to say.  I’d like others to learn from my life experience. Perhaps it’s a bit preachy but I’m compelled to share just the same.

Overworked, overstressed or indecisive parents tend to be more concerned about their child’s feelings than behavior. Children’s feelings are obviously important but the rest of the world reasonably judges us by our behavior. Don’t give in to manipulative crying, don’t excessively praise your child or over explain EVERYTHING.  Parent up and be tough. Wimpy parents are terrified of their child being uncomfortable (I gathered this knowledge personally). I remember the time in my life when I first realized, “My sanity is at stake. I can’t be a wimpy parent!”  Lexi, was a precocious toddler and able to express herself and understand clearly at an early age. When she was 2 1/2, I went back to work and school full-time. Quickly, she picked up on the fact that I dreaded leaving her every morning. Not only had I said so in front of her but it was all over my face (Well, mascara was all over my face. I soon opted to ditch eye makeup altogether).  Soon, she started crying or throwing fits when I needed to go anywhere, including the bathroom. My anxious reactions to her tantrums fueled her controlling behavior. I had no one to blame but myself.  I’m the parent here. Am I so insecure in my parenting abilities that I’m letting a toddler manipulate me?   Eventually, I regained my confidence and despite the less than favorable circumstances, I quit feeling like I was at fault for working or like I was purposely hurting her by depriving her of the privilege of spending all day together. Our life was a bit chaotic for awhile but we both survived.  Today, I have a BBA in my back pocket, no longer hold down a mediocre job (thanks to Paul) and stay at home with all 3 of our girlies.  Lexi, on the other hand, is one independent, adventurous, well-adjusted kid.  By learning to conform to new situations, she actually grew into the awesome kid she is today.

Even if your time with your children is limited due to work and school, make sure your personal and/or marital needs don’t fall to the lowest daily priority. It will be tough and take some time. However, it’ll be worth all your effort because it’s far too exhausting and impractical to let your children rule your household with an unrealistic sense of importance (Stepping down from soap box). 

Three beautiful reasons I have so much parental advice to give.

Good Clean Fun

"To be an artist means to never avert one's eyes." -Marcus Claudius Marcellus

Thing 1 and Thing 2 are into painting right now. I bought a cheap set of watercolors for their Easter baskets and now they ask to paint all the time. I’m tired of cleaning clothes, brushes, paint, table, chairs and kids, not to mention finding a good spot for the mountain of wet papers. So thanks to the never-ending knowledge of the internet, I found a recipe for DIY bathtub paint as follows: 1/3 c. clear liquid soap (They have sensitive skin so I opted for Johnson & Johnson’s Baby Wash), 1 Tb. cornstarch and a few drops of food coloring.

Honestly, I haven’t tried the exact above recipe. After telling them about making bathtub paint, I discovered we were out of cornstarch so I substituted with baking powder. Is that good or bad? Well, it turned out to foam up a bit but after a few stirs we had a bathtub goop similar to Gak (remember that stinky weird substance that was only fun because of the disgusting noises it made). These little princesses weren’t about to touch the “gloopey gloop”. Thing 1 and Thing 2 won’t even lick their own chocolate covered fingers. Weird, I know. But with art brushes in hand, the tub walls were suddenly covered in blue slashes.

Thank you, Internet. Now I can sit for a minute and drink hot coffee from a ceramic mug (not lukewarm coffee in a travel mug).



You miss a lot of wonderful art if nudity is censored. :)



A Little Slice of Happy Chaos

Last night after dinner, The Big Sister decided to practice saxophone for an upcoming Fine Arts Fair. She hasn’t played for about a year but decided that she’d perform a few solos in mid-May. That kid can do anything. Thing 1 couldn’t be left out so she grabbed her recorder and I gave a tambourine to Thing 2 for good measure. I was scrubbing surfaces and loading the dishes and found myself smiling despite the cacophony of noise. I turned around to find Big Sister focused on her music even though Thing 1 and Thing 2 were doing their best to convince her to let them play her “insta-ment”. I led them to play in the living room so she could practice. Thing 1 decided that if she couldn’t play Big Sister’s sax then she could at least have fun playing along. She pranced (in her just her panties… FYI, pottying is done in mere seconds at our house) and screeched along to Big Sister’s tune. She is 2 (almost 3) and it wasn’t that annoying, considering she was playing a recorder. Also stripped down to just a diaper (Monkey see, Monkey do), Thing 2 played the tambourine for all of 30 seconds and tossed it to the floor. Over all the noise, she stood mesmerized in front of the TV though she couldn’t hear it.

Laughing at Big Sister’s flexibility and determination to ignore her sisters, Thing 1’s dancing and musical abilities, Thing 2’s laid back attitude and Thing 1 & 2’s state of undress, I sat back, watched it all and delighted that I had a little slice of happy chaos for dessert. 

Dust in the Wind



The progressive rock band, Kansas, knew about dust in the wind. They wrote a whole song about it.

I close my eyes

Only for a moment and the moment's gone

All my dreams

Pass before my eyes with curiousity.

I particularly identify with this part of the song. For the last two weeks (when it's not raining), I've attempted to drag Thing 1 & Thing 2 outside to play in the yard. We moved to our homestead this January so we've not really enjoyed our yard yet. Fighting cold temperatures and flood-like conditions, we've spent far too much time indoors but the worst culprit of all is WIND.

Most everyone enjoys balmy breezes but the door-wrenching-hair-whipping-toy-blowing-hoodie-snatching-picnic-ruining wind can stir up a storm of irrational anger in me in a blink of an eye.

Thing 1 and Thing 2 also have a mutual dislike for the wind. First of all, they wake excited by the deceiving sunshine so they can enjoy spring activities like blowing bubbles, drawing with sidewalk chalk and picking dandelions. But when I have to hang onto our storm door with a death grip and a gust of wind threatens to knock them down before they step onto the patio, they slowly back out of the doorway and start to take off their shoes and jackets. We've resorted to blowing bubbles in the kitchen, playing in sand on a plastic tablecloth (so not worth the effort) and playing ball in the house. I didn't enjoy bringing the outdoors in so I put the those things back outdoors. To spice up playime, I bought a bag of balloons. Surprisingly, a whole bag of balloons has lasted over a week without being noisy, messy or destructive. Still, balloons are no consolation for playing outside!

I know wind has a purpose but I still hate it because wind...

• Ruins perfectly sunny days by chilling you to the bone.
• Makes me paranoid in parking lots that my door will fly open and ding the car next to me.
• Causes difficulties during track practice for Big Sister. It's hard enough without competing with the wind.
• Knocks over trash bins. Empty or full it's still annoying.
• Damages trees and possibly our roof (fingers crossed)
• Fuels grass fires.
• Dries out my eyes.
• Blows dirt, leaves and debris everywhere.

Most all, I hate wind because it makes me feel small and inconsequential like dust in the wind.

FUN FACT: Kansas was my first concert at Tulsa, Oklahoma's MayFest. I went with my mom, my mom's friend and her daughter. I was 15 & screamed, "Kansas Rules!" at the most inapproriate, quiet moments just to be annoying. It was pretty boring after Dust in the Wind so I spent most of the time laughing at beer sloshing, weirdo concert goers. Good times.

Confession: I can be rude.

As a stay-at-homer, my adult conversations are limited. It’s awfully disappointing that most of my adult conversations are peppered with rudeness. It’s to the point that I feel like outfitting my kids in matching tees reading, “Please don’t ask my mom rude questions and/or make rude observations.”

It wouldn't be effective but at least the general public would be forewarned before I unleash the pent up rage I have in regards to impolite, pointless questions.

“Are you going to try for a boy?”

We have 4 girls. We obviously tried. Don’t you think? Furthermore, what’s wrong with girls?

“Don’t you know how you get babies?”

Obviously, we are competent in this area. Thanks for noticing.

“How are you going to manage 4 kids?”

A minivan, lots of coffee, naps and wine. I think I read that in a parenting book. No, wait I just made that up. Oh, well, sounds good to me.

“This one doesn’t look like you.”

Wow, I appreciate you taking the time to notice our genetic differences. Did you have a reason to point this out? Because I can assure you she’s mine.  See the whole birth process is pretty unpleasant so that you’ll remember which kid is yours.

“You look tired.”

I am so I guess it’s a good thing that I can convince others of my exhaustion. Maybe it’s necessary to look tired so that others will leave me alone so I can sleep.

Now that I’ve unloaded what I really want to say when I’m asked the same rude questions over and over again, perhaps I can continue to grin and bear it. I can’t guarantee that though.