Everyday Revolutions

The ticket counter at the prize station in Chuck E. Cheese is not usually a place where you think about starting a revolution.  It's a place where weary moms and dads take their over-sugared, over-stimulated children to "buy" prizes.  Done right, the whole scene can be a teachable moment about overpricing, decision making, saving vs. spending and more.  Done wrong, it can be a sad example of pushy parents, impatientince, entitlement and possibly lead to a sad headline like "Parents Throw Punches at Kiddie Pizza Restaurant."

If nothing else, it is indeed a lesson in humanity.

Smack dab in all that humanity is where we found ourselves on Saturday night.

Having recently discovered that Chuck E. Cheese makes a pretty good gluten free pizza, we have eaten there a couple times.  Along with a trustworthy gluten free pizza, it's just a good fit for our family.  

It's loud, it's crowded. I don't have to tell my kids to be quiet and I don't feel judged when Wade is climbing on top of my head in the booth.

Wade loved the games and rides, token or no token.  The older kids were all about the tickets.  They sought out the games that would spit out the most tickets.  

After a couple hours, they collectively had 543 tickets.  Tim and I were tired and ready to leave, but of course we had to get the prizes.

The line was long at the prize station.  We waited patiently.  Picking up Wade, setting Wade down, chasing Wade and then picking him up again.  The kids were busy trying to see past the crowd and into the glass counter to get an idea of what they wanted when it was their turn.  Per usual they were shocked and appalled at how little they could get with 543 tickets (especially split between the four of them).  There were tired nods and understanding smiles with other mothers and fathers waiting in line with their excited children.

When it was finally our turn, the kids were ready.  They waited for each sibling to take their turn placing their order, deciding on the specific color of the desired silly straw.  It was sweet.  But the crowd was growing restless behind us.  As JT paused to decide on the perfect color, the young woman behind the counter asked "does anyone know what they want?"

"Yeah we do," a tall man said pushing past several small children and two exhausted mothers.  He didn't care, he just ordered up his whoopee cushion for 250 tickets.  

"You know that's really not right, you just pushed past all these kids that have been waiting so patiently," I said.  "You should have waited your turn."

"Are you serious lady?," he asked smugly.  

"Yes, totally, you should have waited," I said back nervously, but not rudely.

"Let it go," said his wife standing behind him.  "I mean really!"
She was furious.  How could I have the nerve to....what? tell her husband he was wrong?  Ugh.

For a split second I thought one of them was going to punch me.  I pictured the headline. I always wondered who those people were that got into fist fights at Chuck E. Cheese and I was about to find out.
  
"Okay, look I'm sorry, alright?," he flippantly said as he walked away.

Phew.  Dodged a punch.  
I then turned to the young woman behind the counter and suggested she wait until the kids in the first two rows had placed their orders before busting out with the "anyone know what they want" line.

Who do I think I am?
For the past week, we've been driving around town with the soundtrack to Les Miserables blasting from the speakers.  The kids belt out songs they've memorized like "Look Down" and "Do You Hear The People Sing" with great passion and enthusiasm.

"Maybe listening to this music is making you pick fights," my reserved oldest child pointed out after the Chuck E. Cheese incident.

I explained that I wasn't picking fights, but that I had been very close to singing "look down upon your fellow man, look down with mercy if you can" to the smug gentleman who apparently had no regard for the tired mostly mothers in line in front of him.  

To quote that man's wife, "I mean really!"

Life is about everyday revolutions.  
It's about fighting for the underdog, standing up to injustice, even if it's a simple obnoxious line-cutting situation.  Parenthood is about modeling those behaviors so your kids can know what to do when they are confronted with bullies of all kinds in the world.  It is especially important for my more reserved children to know their voice matters.


If I learned anything from the movie and music of Les Miserables (and I learned a lot), it is that one person's decision to do the right thing can affect so many people's lives.  And I want that lesson to continue everyday for my kids in big and small ways.  Even at the ticket counter of Chuck E. Cheese.

The kids were pretty psyched about their new glasses.

Here's the song that inspired it all:

A Big Job

I've been thinking a lot about jobs lately.  About getting a job, having to apply for a job, my nonpaying job.  Here's the thing about being a stay-at-home mom, I am never going to be promoted and I am never going to feel like an expert.  


Each one of my children is incredibly different, so one particular parenting technique or strategy that works well with one will not work at all with another.  I have one quiet, shy child, one funny child, one super cuddly child and one rowdy take no prisoners child (yup, the baby).

**Not pictured: the quiet, shy child.  And of course they are more than the brief one or two word descriptions above.  So much more.  And I love them all individually for who they are and who they will become.  I will not confine them to being "the funny one" or "the quiet one."  

My long term goals include having all the children become college educated, clean living, do-gooding, well-mannered, involved, concerned, caring grown ups.  I want them to know more than me without learning the hard way.  I want them to have less darkness and more light than I do.  I want them to feel grounded and loved.  


Love liberates.  That is a Maya Angelou quote that I think about often.  She also said "love doesn't bind, love doesn't hurt, it liberates."  I want my children to grow up feeling liberated.

Yet another great album cover picture right? 

But damn, those are lofty goals.  And my short term success is well, shaky at best.


Here are just a couple lessons I've learned recently that I want to share because we are a village and all.  Hopefully my shaky parenting skills will help other mothers.


Lesson # 1--Set those channel locks on your TV/cable/computer. Like now.  
I can't even tell you the story I want to tell you.  I have been censored people.  Censored by my conservative husband.  He has never once told me not to put something in here.  Sure he cringes when I type the word fuck.  He has a nervous look when I get way honest about some of my battles with sadness.  But I have to respect his decision about this one.  Just use your imagination.


Lesson # 2--Save the bug.
The other morning, my oldest son pulled a bug off his neck and showed it to me a few minutes before we were leaving for school. I freaked out, took a picture with my iPhone and threw the bug outside.  My first thought was "holy shit, we have bed bugs!" and went straight to "we're going to have to get rid of all our furniture."  After the panic was over, I looked up the bug on the Internet and realized it was a tick.  My first thought was "holy shit, he has Lyme disease!"  


I called the pediatrician and they said I should have saved the bug and brought it in.  They would figure out if it was a dog, wood or deer tick and have it tested in the lab.  Um, wow, okay.  For now we are watching for the telltale bulls-eye rash and fever that means concern.  Thankfully no signs of trouble so far. But people, save the bug next time so you don't end up spending countless hours researching ticks and Lyme disease on the great, fucking scary world wide web.


Lesson # 3--Sleep more.
For years my husband has been telling me how much he loves sleeping.  He calls it his hobby.  And he is really good at it.  I hate sleeping and always have.  It's a waste of time, I would say.  I could be doing something productive, like worrying or researching scary diseases online.  


Well, four kids and almost 11 years of parenting have taught me this...my husband was right, sleep is amazing.  I'm not ready to list it as my number one hobby or go to bed much before midnight, but I get it, it's good.  When I do get more than five hours of sleep, I think better, I parent better, I look better.

It's no wonder sleep is hard to come by with this over crowded bed, but aren't they so cute?

And I am going to need my sleep, I have a mighty big job ahead of me (and no raise in pay). I have four little wonderful souls to love and liberate.  And not totally screw up.  

Spring Break Total Recall

The strip was full of people.  Some were walking, more like strutting.  Some were riding in the back of pick ups. Bass pumping hard from cars going by at 10 miles an hour.


Girls in bikinis.  Guys without shirts.  Every now and then you'd here someone shout "yee-haw" or "hell yeah."


Everywhere you looked people were checking each other out. Except me.  I could be found crouching in the back of a van wishing I was anywhere else in the world.


Yeah, that's right, this was my spring break circa 1989.  Keith Sweat's "I Wanna Make You Sweat" was the jam blasting from the IROC-Zs slowly passing by.  And one of the women strutting the unruly streets of Panama City, Florida was my mother.  


My God-fearing aunt was driving the van we kids (my brother, sister and cousin) and grandmother were hiding in.  "Get in the car Sissy," my aunt pleaded with my mother.


I watched as my mother soaked up the attention of the opposite sex.  The brake lights from the pick ups were like a spotlight.  She was loving it--her chest out proud, smiling from ear to ear, blowing kisses to her fans.  She was a cougar before being a cougar was presumably cool.


She knew how to strut march, she was in fact a majorette in high school. She told the story of marching in the Orange Bowl Parade every January when I was growing up.  


Just like every bad and good novel about a crazy southern lady she was stuck in the past and bruised and scarred by the ugliness of life.  A life that dealt her a hand that she couldn't handle--car accident, divorce, betrayal, mental illness, psychiatrists overprescribing--too much of everything.


To an impressionable 13-year-old girl however, it was all embarrassing.  I was embarrassed that my over-sexualized mother who was strutting the strip.  

What I find most disturbing about this picture (and there are many things) is that my makeup and hair are pretty much the same--pink frosted gloss and bad roots. Ugh.

I was taking mental notes though.  It would take years and years to reconcile all my sexual confusion.  The whole "Am I using you or are you using me" thing.  


Spring break.  Back when I was 13 I thought it was cool, but scary.  In my twenties I thought it was okay, but overrated.  


Now in my thirties, as a parent to four young children including one very impressionable daughter, I find it to be both scary and overrated.


I heard Panama City is much nicer now.  And I'm sure there are no more mullets and hopefully sunscreen is the new baby oil.  But oh hell, you better believe I'm scared.  Scared like only a completely scarred, over-exposed child of the eighties that is now a mother can be.


Thank god we are a few years away from requests of beach trips with friends. (And my answer will always be "no" by the way. I've seen too much.)


For now, I will enjoy games of UNO, complaints of being "so bored," family slumber parties and ripping my hair out because I just can't take it anymore.


"Why do you say god damn it whenever one of us gets hurt?," Lucy asked me yesterday.  Because she too is taking notes.


My 10 year old son is starting to notice women in commercials and say things like "wow look at her" about a woman in a bikini in of course, what else,  a car commercial. "You like girls in bikinis now huh?," Lucy asked her big brother taking out her mental notepad.


I vow, right here, right now to never strut in front of my children especially my daughter.  I vow to figure out how to teach my daughter to embrace her sexuality when she is a young woman and not to be afraid, ashamed, confused or use it to manipulate or pull sad insecure power plays.  I vow to teach my sons to respect women and not objectify them (this is where you, the reader, roll your eyes and say "good luck").


Looking back I feel sad for that scared 13-year-old hiding in the van.  And I feel sad for that mother strutting for approval and attention.  I also feel love and compassion for them. And I feel most grateful that I never have to be in Panama City ever again. 


This song-"Gonna Make You Sweat"-brings back horrible flashbacks, but the video is kind of funny--nothing sexier than the running man.

Just for fun, here's another fun song that brings back a few flashbacks, but some fun memories too. "Red light, yellow light, green light, go." Love the hair on classic Def Leppard.

I Believe the Children Are Our Future

My thoughts are scattered.  My house is scattered.  I am a bit scattered. Some of you are thinking to yourselves, what's new?  But the extremely high level of scattered-ness is new...well at least extremely rare.  It's like pre-wedding scattered-ness.  It's all good stuff happening, just a little nuts.  

So, it makes sense that I don't have the answers or deep thoughts for the kids.  Or really anyone right now.  Like when, at the end of a very long day, Lucy looked at me and asked, "What do you believe?"  I told her exactly what came into my mind.  "I believe that children are our future."


She looked at me with an interested face.  All day I had been trying to get the interested face look from my children.  And now, at bedtime, lyrics from a cheesy Whitney Houston song get it?  So forgive me, but I went on and on and on.


"I believe we should teach them well and let them lead the way."  She nodded in agreement to that one.
"Show them all the beauty they possess inside.  Give them a sense of pride to make it easier."


I skipped ahead and stood up for effect as I said proudly, "I decided long ago, never to walk in anyone's shadow.  If I fail, if I succeed, at least I live as I believe."

Lucy looked at me with a smile on her face, in awe.  And you better believe I didn't tell her it was a song I memorized when I was kid.  Or that the singer became kind of sad story and she didn't stay with Bobby Brown even though I really do think "Something In Common" was/is a great song.  


When life calms down, I will be better at answering questions, or at least try a little harder.  But for now I am going to depend on lyrics from old pop songs.  Admit it, the song is cheesy but sooooo good. Never forget, the greatest love of all is easy to achieve, learning to love yourself.  See? So  good.




In the meantime, the kids are having a grand adventure, as only kids can, with moving.  Even the packing.  The boxes are an exciting new climbing structure to baby Wade.

And just for fun, because some of you might not be familiar with this song....here you go, the classic Bobby Brown, Whitney Houston duet, "Something In Common."  I'm dropping it on you. (Kind of hard to watch because of the sad ending for them, but still a fun song.  I stand by that statement.)

Meltdown

I had a meltdown at church.  

Yup that's right, not only do I put all my shit out there on a blog, but I have public displays of emotion (pde).  Yikes.

Things were not going well.  I had times and schedules all wrong, my kids were running around the halls acting like hyper maniacs and the room where I was supposed to lead a class was booked with another event.  Oh, did I not mention that I was leading a class?  It gets better. The class was about parents finding their zen and balance, unplugging from media.  The class that I created called "Slowing Down and Making Moments Into Memories."


Classic right?


My face turned all red.  I stomped through the halls.  A friend asked what I was upset about.  "I'll tell you later," I huffed. I continued stomping and basically being a ridiculous, reactive, childish mess.


Tim, my reserved,conservative and very against pde's of any kind husband, slowly followed me.  I knew I was making him uncomfortable, but I couldn't stop.  "Why are you looking at me like that?" I said filled with anger and accusation.


"Because you are being ridiculous," he calmly (of course) replied.  


"Whatever.  Why don't you ever support me?" I asked as if we had been fighting for hours.  That's right, it only took me 10 minutes to get to that place of why aren't you on my side kind of thinking.


Another friend came to deliver the bagels that he brought for snack, but his wife quickly shooed him away.  She was on my side, she got it.


"This is nuts, I am going to church," said Tim.


So, I sent him very mature text messages like "thanks teammate" and "you suck."  Then in a matter of minutes, no seconds, the messages went to this "if you love me, prove it by coming back to the classroom" and "are you leaving me?"


After a little  more nuttiness, which a friend called "cycling" and another friend called a "beautiful mess" (I think she was being too kind), things were better. Tim came back to the classroom.  And then I focused on the class I was about to lead and was very grateful that my lesson plan was to teach about how to learn from all of my mistakes.  


There was actaully a little bit more to my lesson plan with help from one of my favorite books on parenting: Everyday Blessings, The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting by Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn.

Check out my cool agenda (my calm, cool and collected husband just informed me I should stop saying how cool my agenda is, whatever!).  Those Kabat-Zinns really know what they are talking about, there is some good information below.  And really, can you think of anyone better than me to teach it?  Don't answer that.

Slowing Down and Making Moments Into Memories

Week 1: Slowing Down and How to Be a Mindful Parent

Every moment is a new beginning, another opportunity for tuning in and perhaps coming--in that very moment--to see and feel and know ourselves and our children in a new and deeper way. 
Everyday Blessings

****Disclaimer*** I am distrustful of people that are always happy and calm and claiming balance..  

New Beginnings

New beginnings and resolutions.

       -Make any? 

Good Night Moon doesn’t suck....and other books that inspire meditation

-What book holds special memories from your childhood? Is there a special book you 

  read to your kids now?

Simple, Practical ideas on how to unplug the family.

-electronic free timezones

-setting examples

-family story time

-dinner discussion

Meditation Isn’t Just for Yoga Hippies

What the heck is “Mindful Parenting?”

-Defined by Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn: Mindful parenting is about seeing our children clearly, and listening to and trusting our own hearts.  It gives form and support to the daily work of parenting with awareness.  It helps us find ways to be sources of unconditional love for our children, from moment to moment, and day by day.

-More from the Kabat-Zinns: For our love for our children is expressed and experienced in the quality of the moment-to-moment relationships we have with them.  It deepens everyday moments when we hold those moments in awareness and dwell within them.  Love is expressed in how we pass the bread, or how we say good morning, and not just the big trip to Disney World....the quality of our attention and our presence is a deep measure of our caring and of our love for our children.

We all screw up.

-Awareness, mindfulness, means even acknowledging when we screw up and trying not to get “caught up in our own reactivity and automatic behaviors, and surrender what compassion and clarity we have to our fear or fury or denial.”

-Who wants to share all their screw ups?  Ok, one screw up story?  (It will help us learn or simply feel better about ourselves.)

Who Has Time To Relax

Parenting is exhausting.

-Taking care of yourself is the first step of being a good parent, spouse, person. No Sleep= Parents’ Kryptonite 

-Please share ideas on taking care of yourself and how to reboot.

More of those Kabat-Zinns: Everybody has a mind; everybody has a body; everybody can pay attention intentionally; and everybody’s life unfolds only in moments.  Mindfulness doesn’t tell us what to do, but it does give us a way to listen, a way to pay close attention to what we believe is important, and to expand our vision of what that might be in any situation, under and circumstances.  Basically, you have no excuses not to at least be a little mindful!

Zen Apps: Sound Redundant? 

-Simply Being-Guided Mediation, on itunes for Apple, Android and Blackberry $1

-Mindfulness Mediation, on itunes for $2, for iphone not sure about Android

Sovereignty Isn’t Just For the United Nations

It’s the key.  

-According to the preachy Kabat-Zinns: In honoring our children’s sovereignty, we make it possible for them to do two things: show themselves in their “true seeming,” and find their own way.  Both are necessary to come to full adulthood.

Who Do You Think You Are

-Finally a quote from someone new, Jay-Z (if you are tweeting about class, your hash tag should probably be #peopleyoudidntthinkwouldbequotedatchurch But you better not be tweeting during a class about unplugging, geez.  And that hash tag is pretty long.) The quote: Belief in oneself and knowing who you are, that’s the foundation for everything great.

Entitled to be loved.

-Nobody wants another materialistic, over-hyped, pumped up teenager, young adult out in the world.  Understand what entitlements to give your children: they are entitled to be loved, cared for and protected.  

Examples Please.

-Child proofing so you aren’t yelling “no” at the children while they learn to explore on their own.

-Looking past older children’s choice of clothing and self expression.  Basically don’t look repulsed when they come downstairs to show you their new way cool perm and giant shoulder pads.  Okay, wait that was my flashback, but you get it right?

-Knowing when to be silent and leave them alone and when to reach out....respecting their autonomy and sometimes it means setting definite and clear limits and sticking to them with kindness and firmness.

Good luck and don’t forget that whole every moment is a new beginning thing.

Source:

Everyday Blessings by Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn