Tired Mama.com

Take them, please.

My children are officially on spring vacation break.

My kids have been home for one day. My eldest doesn't even start spring break until next week.

But I am ready for the school to take them back.

Please.

Sigh.

I'm just a happy (and cheap) kinda gal.

Today as I was at Home Depot shopping for some cabinet hooks, I spied a pretty pink and white flowering Azalea for sale.

It was spring like, it was colorful and it was uh, pretty.

So I bought it.

Since I had to go straight from Home Depot to pick up assorted children from their assorted schools the Azalea rode with me in the front cup holder of my van to do the pick-ups.

When my daughter got in the van, she looked at the potted flower and asked me what it was.

'It's an Azalea,' I told her. 'It was so cheerful that it made me happy and so I bought it.'

'You know Mom,' she informed me. 'You do that a lot. When you see some silly thing in the store that makes you smile, you buy it and then you tell everyone you bought it because it made you happy.'

I do?

Okay, I might.

So, what? Does she think I should buy things that make me frown instead?

Besides it was only a $4.99 plant. 

It could be worse, it could take diamonds or expensive stuff to make me smile. 

Tired Papa is a very lucky man, don't ya think?

What made me smile today.

Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.

It's the only way you'll ever get any peace and quiet.

(Author Unknown)

What's the difference?

I have a daughter who loves theater and a son who loves hockey.

I do everything I can to support both my children as they pursue their activity of choice.

As I was watching my son play in his hockey play-offs today all the parents were yelling directions at their kids from the stands telling their offspring what to do and how to play better.

They were uh, lunatics.

As I was listening to my fellow hockey parents 'coach' their off-spring  I started wondering what would happen if I was to yell directions at my daughter when she was on stage performing in her school musical.

Could you imagine me acting like a hockey Mom at the theater while she was on stage? I could have directed her from my seat, telling her where to stand and how to sing. I could have helped her!

Ah, no.

And no, of course I didn't do it.

If I had several people would have wanted to kill me. Actually had I yelled at any of the young thespians I would have been escorted from the building.

And you know what?

I think we should start considering doing this to those helpful parents at the hockey rinks too. 

Just sayin'.

Please, just get in the house.

It's been busy around our castle lately.

Youngest daughter is performing in her school musical this week, my son has started hockey play-offs, we're progressing the house renovations and my classes are demanding this term.

Lately things have been very uh, busy crazy chaotic.

Yesterday, when my youngest daughter and I had just gotten home from an all day musical practice she decided to try out some Olympic type figure skating moves on the driveway as she waited for me to untangle the groceries and assorted costume paraphernalia from the back of our van.

As I was handing her things to carry into the house she turned to me with a grin. 

"Everyone keeps telling me to break a leg," she informed me.

"Yep," I replied, "that's a theatrical way of wishing you good luck."

"Wouldn't it be really funny if I actually did fall and break my leg?" she asked grinning, then ran off again to slide around some more on the ice in her winter boots.  

Ah, sweetheart?

No.

Just, no.

Sigh.

A gold medal performance

I'm an Olympic junkie.

I love cheering for my country and I am thrilled when the athletes representing it do well.

I am very patriotic and I truly believe that I live in the best country in the world.

I do.

I also have huge amounts of appreciation for the skill, dedication and perseverance of everyone who is at the Olympics competing.

We are only two days into the competitions but I have already explained to my children how winning a bronze medal is a great accomplishment. 

I have explained to my kids how you don't lose gold when you win silver.

I've explained how just making it onto an Olympic team is a lot of work and is a privilege that few people achieve. 

I think all my talking is falling on deaf ears however.

Oh well, I will keep talking because I think telling them this stuff is important.

And you know what? If lecturing my kids was an Olympic event?

I'd win the gold every time. 

Just sayin'.

More rules

At six-thirty this morning my younger daughter marched into the kitchen and announced to me that her older brother was out shoveling the snow off the driveway in his pajamas.

Youngest daughter had gotten a lecture from me this past summer for going out to play one morning in her nightgown and I guess she wanted to make sure the lectures were going to be fairly distributed.

'That's okay,' I replied. 'It's still dark out and he has a coat over top of them.'

'So, it's okay to be outside in your pajamas when it's dark out?' she asked.

'Yes,' I replied, 'but only in the mornings before seven and only when you're working and have a coat on.'

'Oh,' she replied. She left the kitchen satisfied with my answer.

My baby is now almost ten years old, I wonder how much longer I have before she realizes that I'm just making this stuff up as I go along?

Ah well, at least the walkway is cleared.

Hockey Nights in Canada

Over the Christmas holidays Tired Papa and our son built themselves a hockey rink in our backyard.

It's nice. They built boards and put a heater in the pool house to work as a little warm change room and they even put up nets to stop all the pucks from breaking my kitchen windows.

My hubby and our boy go out there when it's dark and cold and they shovel, sweep and flood their rink.

The kids of the neighborhood and my younger children have been using the rink a lot. It's great exercise for everyone and they all have a great time outside.

Me? I've been making a lot of hot chocolate and popcorn this winter.

Do you know what I like most about the ice rink though?

I like looking out my kitchen window and watching my two boys working on the rink and then playing hockey together.

They're not just making an ice rink, they are creating memories. Memories of a father and son working together, creating something together. 

It's good.

Really, really good.

And all the dead grass I'm gonna have back there in the spring?

Totally worth it.

Facebook is good, bad and other.

My son wants to be on Facebook.

Sigh.

His school decided to have someone come in and talk to all the kids about being safe on Facebook and guess what? Now everyone in his grade wants to be on there. Most of these kids didn't even know it existed until the 'talk' and now it's the place to be.

I had always told my kids that they couldn't be on Facebook until they were thirteen but that's still ten months away for my son. 

I'm on Facebook. My fifteen year old daughter is on Facebook. When my son tells me EVERYONE he knows is on there he's not kidding. I've looked and most of his buddies really are on there.

I don't know what to do.

I do know enough about the privacy settings on FB to limit his activities. I suppose I could demand my son's password and go on there regularly to check on what he's up to.

My son is going to get on Facebook eventually. I'm afraid that he may go on there without my knowledge if I clamp down and so no to him now. But he still seems too young to be on there for my comfort. I'm afraid of who my son might meet on the internet and what he might learn.

But I also realize that my boy is smart and I also know that I have to trust him and let him grow too.

Blah.

I still don't know what I'm going to do. I'm really torn on this one.

Double blah.

Reality Check

Two days ago I was reminded that I can go from being a totally exasperated, snappy and impatient Mom to being a totally protective, paranoid and smothering Mom in less than a second. 

In the blink of an eye.

In the moment it takes for one's heart to skip a beat - to stop.

It happened when a Doctor said to me, 'I don't like the look of this and I think we should run a few more tests. I want you to take him over to the hospital. Now.'

Everyone is fine.

But ah, the guilt will live on for a while yet - a long while yet.

Sigh.

Learn from me

IF you happen to have a young child in the house and you HAPPEN to be in the bathroom standing at the sink doing their hair in the near future and IF you're over uh, thirty?

DO NOT put your hands on your child's shoulders and take your face and put it next to theirs and smile in the mirror at the two of you.

Because if you do, your skin will look OLD and WRINKLED and well just, AWFUL next to your child's gorgeous creamy even-toned plumped complexion.

Trust me on this one. Do not try this for yourself.

I'm still trying to recover.

No. Just no, okay?

I knew that parenting would be a challenge. I knew I would make mistakes.

What I didn't realize before I became a parent was how much negotiating I would have to do.

And I'm okay negotiating with my husband and for work.

It's the negotiating with my kids that is starting to drive me crazy.

There's the bedtime negotiating. That whine for just five more minutes.

There's the homework negotiating. The plea for putting it off for a while.

There's the 'who gets to sit in the front seat' fight that I seem to always be negotiating.

There's the ' yes, you HAVE to wear your winter coat to school' discussion I must negotiate EVERY flippin morning.

You know what? It is wearing me out.

All this negotiating, and the bickering that goes along with it, is driving me crazy.

I need a vacation. A looooong vacation.

Where should we go?

Spelling is tough

My nine year old daughter came home yesterday with a note from school explaining that she was going to be tested in 'spelling' in a whole new way.

No longer will my daughter just be given a word to spell during the test but she now has to use the word in a sentence, and apply a specific pre-determined grammatical concept to it.

The letter that explained how the spelling tests would work and how they would be marked was a full page long. For. a. fourth. grade. spelling. test.

Is it just me or is life getting um, harder?

I haven't been able to do my son's math questions for about a year now. Did I ever learn this stuff?

Does anyone know what happened to all the worry over acid rain? That was the big environmental issue when I was a kid. Did we solve this problem?

Oh, and is there still a hole in the ozone layer and if there is why don't we hear about it anymore?

And perhaps most importantly, does anyone know why and when they stopped putting toys in cereal boxes?

Someone? Anyone?

I am so old.

Sigh.

Cranky Mama

People can be annoying.

Now there's a shocker.

Some days when people are annoying I can take it. Sometimes I can just shrug my shoulders and let things go.

Other days, especially when I've stayed up until 2 am the night before writing, and then get up at 6:30 with my kids I just get uh, cranky.

Today? Today I'm cranky.

So, if you're the lady who got involved in my business yesterday and I happen to run into you today I may just say something nasty to you.

Honestly? I want to say something rude. I want this person to get out of my life and to stay out of my business. I want to use four letter words when I talk to them.

I won't.

But I want to.

Look out, world. Tired Mama is tired and cranky and annoyed today. Tired Mama wants to stamp her feet and um, yell and cry.

Blah.

I think I'd better go take a nap - this toddler side of my personality is not pretty.

Ah-ha! Darn.

You know those 'ah-ha' moments that Oprah and people like her talk about? Those moments when something you didn't know before suddenly becomes stunningly clear?

Well, I had one of those moments tonight.

I was picking up my children's discarded coats from the back hall floor and I asked my ticked off self, when my kids would finally be old enough to come in the door and hang their coats up themselves.

And then I thought to myself, they probably won't do it until they have to pay for their darn coats themselves.

Ah ha!

I think I'm right.

I'm sorta depressed by the thought mind you, but I think I'm right.

Is nine years old too young for me to force my child to get a job to pay for her own clothes?

I thought so.

Sigh.

Do not open the Visa bill.

I am blessed with having two beautiful, talented, brilliant and sweet daughters. One will be fifteen in a few months, the other is nine.

As I was sorting my Christmas purchases into piles this morning, I couldn't help but notice that one of my daughter's piles was rather large and the other one uh, wasn't.

Why is it easier to buy for younger children than older kids?

Why is it so much cheaper to buy big sparkly things for younger children?

Why do the things for my younger children look so much bigger than the things for their big sister?

I've actually spent more money on my older daughter than on my younger daughter, it just doesn't look that way. 

Santa, if you have any free time I could use some help over here.

Sigh.

Maybe I'll just wrap my older daughter's presents in bigger boxes....

Advent Calendars are evil

Advent calendars are evil.

Yes, they are.

Why? Well, they are evil mainly because they cause stress.

Every time I look at our advent calendar I am reminded of how few days there are left before Christmas and then I start to panic about everything that still needs to be done. 

Advent calendars = Stress = Evil.

I also made the mistake of buying one of those pretty little advent calendars that you can fill yourself.

3 kids + 25 advent calendar pockets to fill = 75 things = More Stress = Evil.

Yes, I have to come up with seventy-five different things to put in the advent calendar every December. On top of the stockings, presents, cooking, cleaning, card writing, decorating, visiting, celebrating and gosh knows what else, I also have to come up with seventy-five love notes, chocolates or small toys to fill the stupid advent calendar with.

I don't have time for all of this.

It's evil, I tell you.

Eeeeevil.

Take your Child to Work Day

Today was the day in my home town where you were supposed to take your Grade 9 (Freshman) child to work with you - only if you happen to have one kicking around the house, of course.

This is a provincially run program set up to give the kids a glimpse into different job opportunities and help them see a little of what the 'real' world looks like.

So, Tired Papa took our eldest daughter to work with him today.

She had a good time and seemed to enjoy herself. The only problem she had was everyone kept telling her all day that she looked like uh, me.

Um, people? Although I am not coyote ugly, no fourteen year old wants to be told all day that she looks like her forty-something year old Mom.

Just sayin'. 

And yes, I do find the whole thing funny - in an evil sort of way.

Bwaahaha. 

You only have two feet....

Can shoes breed?

I'm starting to think so.

They must.

It's the only reason I can come up with to explain why we have so many darn shoes in my house.

I've decided they must be genetically programmed to breed, multiple and then run around my house and plant themselves in the middle of hallways.

It's not just one breed either, the wayward shoes in my house are of different sizes, shapes, colours and many even have weird things attached to them - like uh, cleats.

Shoe racks don't seem to contain these pests. These vermin are taking over my house and I don't like it.

I'm thinking about setting traps.

Will that work? Oh, but if I set them free once I catch them, will they just scatter again?

Darn kids shoes.

Sigh.

Today

I've got a child home today who is not feeling well enough to go to school. I hesitate to say he is really sick but he's not one hundred percent either so the school doesn't want him there.

So, he's here with me.

And this means I get to spend the day at home.

Which is okay, because I kinda like the kid and when I spend time at home I get things done.

Like uh, cleaning out the fridge, or sorting the laundry because those things need doing.

Or, writing something to help pay the bills. Those need to be looked at too.

But first?

First, I'm gonna go and bug my son. He's lying on the couch watching TV and bugging him sounds like more fun than cleaning.

*** Ten Minutes Pass ***

And now that I've done that, I have discovered that my son is running a fever and he is now telling me that his stomach hurts.

Wow, I made the right call when I decided to keep him home. I was right. Did you hear that? I was right. That doesn't happen very often.

And you know, when it comes to thinking that my kids are brewing something and about to get sick? I wish it wasn't happening today either.

Sigh.

I wonder how much Tylenol I have in the the house? I wonder if he'll keep it down?

Double sigh. 

She's a maniac...

We've all heard of multi-tasking.

Well I learned a new term today - maniac-tasking.

I think I like it.

It also seems to describe so many of my days when I just run around like crazy trying to get too many kids to too many activities and at the same time try to take care of the hundred other details that need to be done to keep this family fed, alive, solvent and uh, just going.

So, what about you? Are you a multi-tasker or a maniac-tasker?

Um, and any idea how I can become a maniac-slacker? That's the one I really want to try.

Oh, for gosh sake

Dear Stupid Pet,

If you don't like dirty laundry being thrown on top of you, don't sleep in the laundry hamper.

Yes, I actually put laundry in there and yes, I know the kids in the house don't.

But give me a break, I get enough dirty looks from my children, I don't need them from you too.

Thanks,
Tired Mama

 

 

Pick again

My youngest is now nine.

Over the past few months she's started to make some rumblings about the state of her room. It seems she's no longer happy to have pink and purple fairies dancing around in there with a big pink crown as a head board.

My youngest seems to no longer think that she is a princess. Go figure.

So, we've picked out a new bedding set.  This one:

It's cute, bold and tweenish. I think it'll work for a few years.

I also agreed to paint her room. 'What colour do you want it to be?' I asked carelessly.

When she asked for my opinion, I told her to pick a colour from the comforter cover. I suggested pink or purple or green or even yellow.

But what does she want?

Black.

Shiny black, please.

Uh, no.

Sigh.

Signs

I did a couple of things yesterday that I haven't done in a while.

In the morning I went to the local kitchen store and I bought some knives. I know, I know, I'm a party animal.

But, since my kids started helping me in the kitchen oh about, twelve years ago I haven't had any really good quality sharp knives as I never wanted my babies to grab one and hurt themselves. 

But this past weekend, as I was making a total mess of pealing a peach, it occurred to me that my youngest is now nine. I can probably trust them not to slice themselves open on a sharp knife.

Lightbulb!

So, I went out yesterday and bought two Henckels branded knives and you know what? These suckers are sharp.

The second thing I did was I went to Bath and Body Works and bought a few of their scented candles. 

For years if I bought candles my kids would either immediately blow them out, thinking they were birthday cake candles, or they'd stick their finger in them to see what would happen. I've also been known to forget all about a burning candle and leave the house or go to bed with it still lit.

I also can't stand the smell of a dirty diaper layered over with uh, a lavender scent or a green tree smell or some such thing.

Today? Now I have a 'Sweet Cinnamon Pumpkin' smell permeating my house thanks to the pretty new candle I bought yesterday.

I can do these things now. My kids are growing up.

Sigh.

Now, how long do you think it'll take before I cut my finger or burn down my kitchen?

I give myself about two days.

Wow

When pigs fly!

When hell freezes over!

When gosh um, I don't know - but there's got to be more.

What? What?

What, you ask?

Tired Papa and I stayed home today and worked around the house and um, I got all the laundry done.

All. of. it.

Alert the press, Mt. Laundry was conquered for at least six hours today.

Will wonders never cease to amaze.

Breakfast of Champions

So, would you give your kids freshly baked (still warm) frosted brownies for breakfast?

If you're the kinda Mom who thinks this sounds like fun, then yes, of course when my kids asked me if they could have brownies for breakfast I let them eat some from the pan that I had just baked.

If you think this is totally unhealthy and only a horrible Mom would let her kids have brownies for breakfast then tsk-tsk, of course I didn't let them have any, I made them wait until dinner.

Besides, warm frosted brownies? I love brownies. Do you honestly think there'd be any of them LEFT for the kids to eat?

Okay, maybe a few. Very few. 

What can I say? We're pudgy, but we're happy.

Enjoy your Sunday. 

Pass the meds

Today my eldest came home from her first day of high school.

She came home happy.

And seeing her smile made me feel like a ton of bricks had just been lifted off my shoulders.

Only eight kids from my daughter's middle school are attending her high school so in her freshman class of four hundred she doesn't know a lot of other kids. 

I was uh, concerned - a little.

But it sounds like everything went okay.

The school she's attending is big and it sounds like she got lost, a lot.

She also told me that she talked to a few new kids and got into a fight with her new locker when it wouldn't open.

I gather her language teacher seems intimidating and the school's drama department is putting on a musical that she thought she might be interested in participating in. 

She also talked about trying out for the school field hockey team.

Overall, it was all good stuff.

Eight hours down and only a zillion to go until she graduates. 

After hearing about her day today, I think she'll be fine.

I, on the other hand, may need wine, or Valium or something even stronger to get through the next four years.

Do you think we'll ever stop worrying about our kids?

Sigh.

It's a big cut in the Back to School budget

I'm doing one of those smallish insane things today. You know the kinda thing, the one that if you heard some other Mom was doing it you'd shake your head and roll your eyes, then probably (hopefully?) forget about it.

Yep, I'm doing one of those.

I'm taking my fourteen year old daughter for a haircut today at one of those over the top expensive hair salon places.

Yep, I am - but let me defend myself.

You see, I went to this expensive salon five weeks ago out of desperation.

My reasonably priced nice hairdresser has left town and my bangs and hair were getting so ratty and long that I couldn't see. I looked pretty bad and worse yet? I was getting grey. So, I took a friend's recommendation and went to this nice swanky salon.

I almost had a heart attack when I went to pay, but my hair looked great so I decided that I was worth it.

Yes, as a matter of fact I can justify just about anything.

And yes, I did hide the receipt from Tired Papa.

Yesterday I had two people comment on my hair - FIVE weeks later. This just doesn't happen EVER, but my hair still looks good, it's easy to take care of and well, it's working for me.

At my age I'll pay a little extra for that.

My daughter? She got a teen cut at the mall a few weeks ago. Now, her hair is gorgeous. It's thick, wavy, naturally highlighted and just plain lovely to look at. Right now with this 'long bang teen thing' going on however it looks less than stellar. It looks heavy and lank and it's hiding her pretty face. It's just not working.

So, I'm paying to get it cut again, by the same stylist who did mine, for her first day of high school.

Sigh. 

I know I may never get her to go back to reasonably priced cuts once I start paying for her to have expensive ones, but school starts in five days and I don't know what else to do.

So, I'm just gonna pull out the credit card and close my eyes to the price. 

Let the eye rolling begin. 

It really is the most wonderful time of the year

It's only eleven days, twenty hours and about about fifty-one minutes away.

If this means nothing to you then you don't have children who go back to school after the Labor Day weekend.

Yes, we're VERY ready here for some time apart.

Kids, if you're reading this? I do love you, but you know it's true.

And yes, it works both ways.

Hugs.

Can you say, stupid?

My eldest daughter has school exams in June every year.

My youngest daughter has musical voice exams in June and dance exams in February.

So, I decided this year to have them both do their piano exams in August instead of June to kinda spread things out a bit.

We have now come home from our two week cottage vacation to spend two days doing the girl's piano exams.

Yeah.

I know, what was I thinking?

We won't be doing this again. Summer is no time for piano lessons or exams.

Sorry guys, Mom blew this one.

What can I say? It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Sigh.

*****
Edited to add:
Yes, my kids are in too many activities and yes, they actually do practice and prepare without complaining and yes, I am INSANE. Thanks for asking.