Funny how you get to “know” the people you see on the weekdays, when everyone goes to the same place at the same time. When I take the kids to school in the mornings, I recognize more than a handful of people along the way. I think about them in my freetime sometimes and I have given them all special names:

“Our Friend, Robin” – I know her name because I encountered her in a store once, talking to her boyfriend and he said her name. Robin walks everywhere she goes. I usually see her trudging along the main strip near the intersection closest to my house. She almost always wears a orange t-shirt and a fanny pack and in the mornings, she carries a to-go coffee in her right hand. She has beautiful, long blonde hair, which she pulls back in a ponytail when it’s hot. Sometimes she ventures out onto other streets and I usually manage to see her at least once a day.

“Bus Stop Man” – he sits at a bus stop, waiting for his transportation to arrive around 7:20 a.m. He must work at some sort of retail establishment that requires him to wear a red shirt with his name over the left pocket. He sports very thick eyeglasses and sometimes when we approach him, he will look up from his phone with his big, open eyes and it makes me and the kids chuckle.

“Homeless Guy” – he stands on the same corner in the mornings and holds his sign. It says “Homeless – Anything Will Help – God Bless.” He knows to stand in this spot because this is the direction most people are driving to get to work or school. The thing that strikes me the most about him is his sad smile. When it’s cold outside, he wears a long, dark blue wool coat, which goes past his knees and a hat. He also grows a beard, which helps keep his chilly cheeks toasty. Come summer, he wears a few different t-shirts with holes, which always look like they need to be washed. He also shaves his face. In the afternoons, he stands in another spot, just up the road, to catch the workers going back home. His smile is still sad.

“Crazy Guy” – I see him only sporadically but always in the same area too. He sits on top of a city trash can near our intersection and moves his arms and legs to the music coming through the earphones of his MP3 player. He waves at everyone that drives by and always has a huge smile on his face. I wonder if he’s happy or just crazy? Or both?

“Crossing Guard” – Same woman, every day. She is a petite woman with transition glasses and she always wears a visor. When it’s cold, she wears one of those standard-issue orange & yellow reflective coats, which on her, almost touches the ground. The mothers, fathers and students that are helped across the street by her seem to know her. This morning, I watched someone showing her something on her smartphone. She smiles when she talks to waiting customers. At the end of her work day, I have actually seen her holding up the sign for herself to cross the road to get where she’s going.

I love my neighborhood – and all the strangers in it!

 

 

 

 

 

Every time I get on the road with my car, it seems I get upset. Today is worse because it’s raining and people are just dumber than usual when it comes to driving. I am a mom and I have places to go and I don’t need some slowpoke driver sitting in the left lane, blocking me from getting to my destination. So here’s a personal note to all you slowpokes out there:

I don’t have time to leave 10 or 20 minutes earlier just so that I can putter along behind you. In reality, I really don’t care why you drive slowly – you can drive like a 90-year-old all day long if you want to – just move your ass over to the right lane and we’ll all be alright! Simple rule of thumb: move to the right lane when you’re not passing. If you need to take a left turn 3 miles up the road, do so when you are closer to your turn. Make sense? I think so.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. I need to leave to get my kids at school when it lets out in 20 minutes. Normally, it would take me 15 minutes to get there – I wonder if I’ll make it on time? Bet I don’t.

 

 

 

We all have to agree that we want to teach our kids the manners and respect for others that will put them on track to be accepted and well-liked in their lives.

These are essential to being successful in life, so let’s show our kids how it’s done by setting a good example:

  1. Acknowledge others – Say “hello” to people when you enter a room. Say “goodbye” when you leave. People love to be acknowledged and they’ll remember who did.
  2. Use eye contact – Looking someone in the eye lets them know that you are actually talking/listening to them. Personally, I won’t hire a professional if that person doesn’t look at me – I’m just picky that way.
  3. Pay attention – With all of our daily distractions, giving your undivided attention to a person shows that you are interested in what they’re saying. Kids – especially – love the attention and it gives their self-esteem a boost. Do this for them and they will pay it forward.
  4. Be grateful – Think about all you have and not about what you don’t have. You will realize that you are very fortunate, which in turn will make you happy.
  5. Be kind and caring – Say something nice to someone every day. Offer your help. Do a good deed. Care for an elderly person. It will all come back to you tenfold (and make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside).
  6. Smile – Curve your mouth upwards and smile. It makes you look nicer, more approachable and more attractive. Try it … you’ll like it.

I have spent well over a decade repeating these rules to my kids and I think my persistence has paid off to an extent. People tell me that my kids are well-mannered, caring individuals – even when I’m not there to remind them. My goal is to continue to set a good example for them and hopefully they will have mastered  these qualities by the time they’re on their own. In the meantime, I will keep reminding them to say “please” and “thank you,” to practice their eye contact and all of the other things above. I’ll do it for another decade but the rest is going to be up to them.

 

I was just thinking how many ‘great’ thoughts I’ve thrown away because they are just too personal or revealing about someone to share in public.

For example, just today I was thinking how satisfying and comforting it is to put a Disney Princess Band-Aid on an adult boil. I don’t know, but suspect, that most who have forgone having children miss out on this self-nurturing experience. Please do not misunderstand me, this is not a good reason to have kids. Perhaps it is merely an endorsement of Disney Princess Band-Aids. Or Sponge Bob, if that’s what floats your boat.

I’ll try to loosen up and write more. Although, I do have an enormous rant rolling around in my brain about women and the upcoming election. I don’t know what is more off-putting – boils or politics.

 

 

This Author is out having actual adventures and raising children right now. She’s promised to write us a note when she has the time. (…time?…)
Maybe we’ll get a postcard….

 

At first it was the little things, like Kindle books you pick up for $2.99.  For $2.99, you (and I) can overlook some typos and editing errors.  But now terrible editing seeps into everything, even the news.   Some things that I’ve seen…

“2% chance of rain” —  we Texans value every drop, you know.

Another news station here reports “Ligering showers”.  Do you know what a liger is?  I do, thanks to my biologist sister.  It’s a real thing.

 

If there are ligering showers, I think we should all be worried.  Example:

 

 

Not quite as bad, but still worrisome, the prediction of a “Cod front”.  I know how weather works.  I imagine it would go something like this…

 

 

In other news, “Man dies in hand gliding accident.” — This was absolutely posted on a news website.  I don’t know whether to feel worse about his death or this headline.

Leslie Cochran, a long time Austin icon, passed away today.  One of the news sites says “he ran for for mayor three times”.  For for mayor.  Way to respectfully remember someone on a news site.

I even received a catalog in the mail that offers a special cheese wheel that “will blow your mind and your friends.”  Just like that.  Yes.  The cheese is that good, people.

I could give you screen shots for these things, but I know you have seen similar items in your daily life.  Trust me, each of these examples is real.  Look, I’m just pleading with the writers, reporters, and news producers of the world to take a few minutes and read what you’ve written before it goes out to the public.  Have our expectations of quality writing dropped that substantially?  Am I the only one who notices?

Disclaimer:  Any grammatical errors on my part in this blog are probably due to ligering shower distractions.

Feb 242012
 

I just came from Target. I knew this day was coming but it doesn’t make it any less painful. My seven-and-a-half-year-old has out grown cute little boy underwear. He is big for his age, but not off the charts big. Who gets to decide that size 8 is big enough? If you are “bigger” than 8 you should start wearing white briefs, plaid boxers, or Camo print underwear. No more Star Wars, no more Super Heroes, no more Phineas & Ferb, no more Scooby Doo, no more childhood. Time to get serious about your underwear.

We are not even out of first grade yet! So, I’m on a new mission – to keep my little boy in fun underwear. If this is a problem for you too, allow me to help you out. Superhero.com carries pajamas, underwear, and tees for ANY age. The Gap I was surprised to learn carries some fun patterns – scuba, robots, pirates, space, and geckos are some of their themes. Osh Kosh and Gymboree have a few options. And that’s all I could find.

Here’s the second part of my complaint – military themed undies for grade school kids. That strikes me as a little sick. But I’ve always been afraid of all the camo and other pro military clothing sold to very small kids. Yes, afraid. Camouflage is what you wear to make you less visible to people trying to kill you. Or less visible to something you are trying to kill. No thank you.

I guess this troubles me so because I am not ready for everyone to be all grown up. There will come a day very soon when I won’t know anything about this particular subject. My son has out grown dressing up but I know he would still wear superheroes under his clothes if he could. I want to let him.

 

It’s President’s Day today. School’s out and all federal employees have the day off.  Unfortunately, I don’t fall into one of these categories, so I’m working at my part time job today. But there’s not a lot going on here either. Traffic was minimal this morning and the office phone is not ringing at all. So, what do I do? I surf the web, looking at pretty things.

My favorite websites to look are DIY sites and I’m always amazed at the talent that people have when it comes to conceiving new things. While I’m at home, folding laundry or loading the dishwasher, these people are contemplating, collecting and putting ideas together that result in amazing creations. Websites like Tumblr have an incredible collection of artists that share their ideas. I filter through them and am in awe. How do they do it? Where do they find the time? It makes me yearn. I yearn to have that inner creativity and energy that is a catalyst for producing something unique and functional.

If I think about it, though, I may have had some of my own creative and innovative moments over the last 12 years. There were plenty of times when I had to come up with something to keep us entertained and interested, which required imagination on my part. I remember setting my son in his high chair and having him draw with a variety of mediums like colored pencils, crayons, paints and even bingo markers. I would turn some of his artwork into handmade gifts for my relatives. I remember coming up with a scavenger hunt list of items to look for in our own neighborhood, when we took walks. I remember letting the kids set up every one of our VHS cassette tapes in domino formation and letting them tip them over, again and again. I remember getting in the car and taking them to parks all around the city, so that they could experience a new area, a different playscape and intriguing people. I remember singing silly made-up songs or head-banging to my favorite Disney movie theme and making them laugh. The list goes on and on.

In hindsight, I guess I’m not as uninspired as I perceive myself to be sometimes. The kids have gotten older and they don’t count on me as much to entertain them. But I know that one day the artist deep down inside of me will make an appearance. Now, if only I could muster up the energy after the kids go to bed, I’d be golden.

 

It’s rainy and cold today, which makes me not wanna move. I want to stay inside, in all my cozy mess and just sit at the computer and surf and drink coffee. But alas, I must do something eventually.

But haven’t I done enough already?

I was up at 5:45 a.m. this morning, taking a shower to clear out the fog in my brain. I dressed quickly, pulled my wet hair back into a bun and slapped some cream on my face. My husband was still in bed, so I whispered sweetly in his ear that it was time to get up as I crawled in next to him. I told myself I’d only lay down for 3 minutes to cuddle.  Well, ten minutes later, I’m back up and headed for the kids’ rooms. They get a gentle nudge and hear a sing-songy voice telling them “Come on, sweet babies … it’s time to get up!” But I get very little response. The clock is ticking. It’s taking too long. I can feel some of my morning sweetness fade.

I start making my daughter’s everyday breakfast of tortillas with Nutella. I stir up some pancake mix and pour it on the griddle for my boy. I’m making progress on my end, but still no sign of the kids. I yell “Hey guys, it’s getting late! Time to get up!” I continue with the lunches. Boiling water for tortellini, smearing peanut butter and jelly on bread. Washing and cutting veggies & fruit and fitting it into their stainless steel Lunchbots. I try to remember every facet of their daily nutritional needs and hope I got it all. Whole grains, veggies, fruit, dairy, something sweet. Check.

Sleepy faces start to appear in the hallway and they’re heading in my general direction. My preteen son detours to the bathroom to relieve himself but also to comb his hair.  My daughter heads for the couch where I join her for a few minutes of cuddling. But that damn clock is still ticking. Okay, that’s enough. I realize we have to leave in 30 minutes! No more playing around. No more Ms. Nice Mom. My kids know that this is the time I call “Crunch Time” and when things don’t go smoothly, Mama starts to get a little antsy and little yell-y.

By now, they should be dressed and ready to eat breakfast. I give them vitamins, which they take willingly: Veggie Gummies for Kids, Flintstones, the supplements Gaba and fish oil with orange juice. I finish up my responsibilities: putting lunchboxes in backpacks, filling water bottles and checking that schoolwork is where it’s supposed to be. Finally we’re down to the last 10 minutes before we need to cross that threshold and get into the car. Big time Crunch Time! Jackets and shoes are the big challenge in this last phase. It seems to take more time to do this than everything else combined. By the time they finish this last task, I have put my shoes and jacket on, filled my travel mug with coffee, fed the dog, wiped the kitchen counters, put all the dirty silverware in the sink to soak, put on eyeliner and located my cell phone.

We get to school on time. Since I’m not working today, I decide to stay for Monday morning assembly. We listen to announcements, sing songs and pledge allegiance to our country and state.  I chat with a couple of moms about the kids and how cute they are and how much progress they have made in their short lives. I finally head back out, but not before turning in several overdue library books.

I think I’ve done plenty already this morning, but unfortunately, the dust bunnies on my floor and the dirty dishes in my sink don’t agree. Let me get on it.

 

I have four children.  My seven year old, in first grade, worries about ghosts.  He worries about death.  He worries about bed bugs (no, we don’t have any).  He’s shy.  Extremely smart, but good luck getting any of that out of him if he doesn’t feel like showing off.  My second child, a daughter, has had multiple heart surgeries and has quirks from that.  My third child, a son, refuses to talk.  My eighteen month old daughter, like most kids her age, just tries repeatedly to get into as much trouble as possible.  Normal kid stuff.

The thing is, everyone has a fix for every single quirk my kids have these days.  At first I worried and thought there were genuinely things WRONG with my kids.  I followed advice and drove them to all sorts of doctors and therapists.  I don’t know why, looking back.  I was trying to do the right thing, mom wise.  Your kid sees ghosts?  Get his eyes checked out!  Your kid is smart but shy?  It could be ADD, ADHD, Asperger Syndrome, Austism, etc.  Maybe he needs a hearing test!  Your kid can’t spit out her toothpaste properly?  She needs an occupational therapist!  Don’t let it go too long or they’ll all explode!

Eventually I realized that, though I think there are kids that DO have real problems that need help, our society has become one of constantly fixing our kids.  Anything not down the middle of the road is a problem.  I’ve slowly become desensitized to most of these suggestions, sort of similar to the way I let those little old ladies’ comments in the grocery store roll off my back.  That child should be wearing socks!!  I just smile and nod.

Maybe that makes me a bad parent.  Maybe taking every little hiccup in the road seriously is the way to go.  But I’m exhausted.  And kids are just weird.  They are.  Like crazy little snowflakes.  I think we should go back to letting kids be kids.  Surely they will grow out of talking like a robot, even without therapy, right?

Here is a small taste of what makes parenting so difficult.  I will use my son’s ghost anxiety as an example of how many options are available to fix children these days.

Erica's flowchart for handling your child's fear of ghosts.So good luck to all of my fellow moms out there.  It’s a wonder any of us make it through the day sane.  Keep doing what you do.

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