And Now My Couch Smells Like Urine

Furniture and children – it’s a troublesome mix. There’s bouncing off furniture – using the sofa as a trampoline and forever damaging the springs. There’s hiding candy wrappers between the cushions or otherwise leaving behind remnants like popcorn kernels. And then there’s bodily fluids.

Having a child around furniture is kind of like carrying around a beaker of highly unstable and corrosive chemicals above your living room set. You never know what’s going to happen – but it will likely result in a mess.

When they’re babies – spit up and diaper blow outs threaten your couch.

When they’re toddlers – crayons and smooshy snacks are the culprits.

When they’re preschoolers – when someone comes home with a tummy bug, it’s typically the sofa that gets the first splash.

When they’re in grade school – who knows what can happen? Soda. Snot. Sticky. Sand. And… sometimes… urine.

Two takeaways from this:

1. Never buy expensive furniture until your kids are in college. (Even then, maybe wait a few years.)

2. Does anyone know how to get urine out of my couch?

Sleepovers: The Root of Much Crankiness

Sleepovers can be fun, something to look forward to and silly. They can also be the root of drama amongst friends and siblings (and parents).

Here are the top 10 ways you know they’ll be drama:

10. One child gets a sleepover and the others don’t. “It’s not fair, MOM!”

9. The child having the sleepover’s friends are more interested in the siblings than the child. “How come when he’s over he only wants to play with my sister?!”

8. The inevitable disagreement takes place between the children and one of the following phrases are uttered: “I want to go home!” or “I want him to go home!”

7.  It’s time for the child to depart and the mess has to be cleaned up, leading to a symphony of “He made the mess, not me!”

6. Your child or a visiting child wears pull-ups at night to protect against nighttime accidents and the other kids want to know why they are “wearing a diaper”

5.  Your child is at a friend’s house and you get a call late at night asking you to pick your child up. (This usually involves vomiting.)

4. A visiting child won’t eat your food “because it looks gross.”

3. The kids never fall asleep and you find yourself moving from, “Alright boys, lights off” to “Boys, morning is going to come early” to “That’s enough! Don’t make me come in there!”

2. Your child is at a friend’s house and stays up way too late and comes home a horrible, cranky, mean, hot-tempered mess. “YOU ARE SO MEAN! I am going to move in to (insert name of friend’s house he/she just stayed at) and live there forever!” <– typically exclaimed after I have done something so vile as asking them to unpack their sleepover bag.

1. Your child forgets his/her toothbrush or clothing and comes home exhibiting a stink that is normally reserved for the elephant house at the circus.

 

 

 

 

 

Six Years of Silence

Last night I went to the movies with my 12-year-old daughter and one of my best friends. On the way to and from the theater, my friend and I attempted conversation with my tween. Attempted. I offer now a brief summary of that “conversation”:

“Hey, what’d you think of the movie?”

“Good.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like this one better or the first one?”

“This one.”

“So, how was the last day of 6th grade?”

“Fine.”

“What are you looking forward to in 7th grade?”

“I don’t know.”

“What electives are you taking?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did they let you pick?”

“Yeah.”

“So, what’d you pick?”

“I didn’t get to pick.”

(Pause for confusion on behalf of the adults)

“Wait. You said you got to pick. Did you get to pick?”

“It was too late.”

“So, were you supposed to fill something out?”

(Insert five-minute very confusing conversation about whether or not there was a form and whether or not it had to be signed by a parent – which quickly turned into more of an interrogation than anything.)

After a pause in the conversation she asks:

“Can I show you a video on your phone?”

And that’s how all the “conversations” end. The phone. Face glued to a screen. Parents effectively blocked. Silence officially in place. Except for the singing along to the YouTube videos, of course.

 

Mind you, my daughter is not a shy and quiet individual. She will talk to you. And she can be pretty spirited. But, it has to be about something she’s interested. Which, apparently right now, is strictly YouTube videos and performing songs from Just Dance or something she sang in choir.

 

OOH – maybe that’s the tactic I should take from now on? For the next six years, if I want to communicate with my daughter – I’ll just record a video of myself singing and dancing about it and post it on YouTube!

“Sweetie, be sure to use shampoo.” (Sang to the tune of a Taylor Swift song.)

“Did you get all your homework done?” (Awkward mom dancing – waving hands over head. Maybe going old school and breaking out the Roger Rabbit.)

Yeah. That should about do it. At least I know for THAT I’ll get more than a one word response.

All I Want for Mothers Day is….

Stop for a second. Think about this statement and complete it:

All I want for Mothers Day is….

Here’s the thing – I don’t know what I would even ask for. Nothing store-bought, that is. I’m not secretly wishing for a new purse or a pedicure or scented candles or any of those standard things. Honestly, before I started writing an article today for work about Mothers Day, I hadn’t even given it a thought.

Like Christmas and Easter, I feel like Mothers Day has gotten ridiculously out of control in the commercialization department. Here’s my solution – lets ask for something money can’t buy.

Instead of an expensive bouquet, I want my kids draw me a flower. (I’d say pick a wild bouquet, but this is May in Alaska, so yeah…)

bouquet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rather than pricey jewelry, I’d love a noodle necklace to add to my collection.

noodle necklace

 

 

 

 

 

Forget a day at the spa, I’ll take a private potty break.

pee alone

 

 

 

 

 

We don’t need a restaurant for brunch, my kids can make me breakfast in bed.

breakfast in bed

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Move over Hallmark, hand-made cards are the best.

card

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, when all else fails – there’s always bacon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, what’s your answer? Complete this thought: All I want for Mothers Day is….  Oh, and be sure to tell your family before they spend a bundle buying you a bottle of perfume, lotion or a candle…

Playing Telephone

Seven. That’s the number of times my phone rang in church yesterday. Seven. And it’s only a one-hour service! Thankfully, I had turned off the ringer. When church was through, I saw I had missed seven calls. But here’s the deal – there were only two callers. And they were both friends of my kids. One child called six times. The other just called and left a voicemail. My theory is the parents of the six-timer didn’t know what he was up to.

Now, let me start by saying – my children are not innocent of this. In fact, I wrote a post about the same phenomenon when my daughter was nine. She would call people and if they didn’t answer – no problem – she’d call back until they did. It must be the age because now my nine-year old son’s best buddy is calling and doing the same thing. He’s called 13 times since Saturday morning at 8.

He’s excited to get together with his friend. It’s understandable. But, what do you do with that? Do you call the parents and alert them that their child is calling ALL. THE. TIME? Do you mention something directly to the child?

What do you do when a child wants to play telephone?

Weighted Worries

My 9-year-old son complained a bully told him he is fat.

My 12-year-old daughter walked away from the scale saying she is chunky.

Both times – I found myself assuring them they are not fat. They are growing. Sometimes you fill out before you shoot upward. But, sometimes you fill out because you’re eating junk. And lots of it. And then what? How do you address that with your kids without hurting their feelings or body image?

We feed them a nutritious breakfast. We pack them a healthy lunch – a sandwich, fruit and veggies, yogurt and cheese. Family dinner typically consists of salmon or moose meat with steamed vegetables and a baked potato. Sure, we like ice cream as a treat and pizza typically hits the table a few times a month. But, during the day – my kids find their way to the underground snack food market. They come home with candy, drinking a soda or munching on a cupcake. Where do they get this stuff? They trade or use the change from their piggy banks to load up on goodies they know we’d never buy them.

They are growing children. I understand that. Heck, I have a second helping here and there and I’m all grown up. But how do you balance healthy eating at home with the garbage they get their hands on elsewhere? What do you do in your household to teach healthy eating in a way that makes your kids want to just say no to junk?

 

Random Childhood Injuries

So, my 5-year-old son burned his nipple last night at dinner. How, you ask? You know, just eating. Hot from the wok stir fry slipped from his fork and down the top of his shirt, landing on his nipple and leading to a panic-induced dance and corresponding song of, “OWWWWW! My nipple! It’s burning my nipple! Mommy, kiss it!” (And yes, I kissed it, much to the dismay of my 9-year-old son who called it, “Gross.”)

This morning, that same 5-year-old managed to nearly take the flesh off his face when he decided he wanted to, “shave like Papa.” Thank the Lord above – I managed to grab the razor from his hand in time. No blood. No damage.

My friend’s daughter also suffered a random childhood injury yesterday – rolling her ankle while hopping through a sporting goods store. What? Yep. A hopping injury.

I started thinking about all the weird ways our kids manage to hurt themselves. There’s the typical stuff: bonking a head or butt while sledding, scraping a knee while running or falling off a trampoline and breaking their leg (yeah, that’s a childhood memory I’ll never forget. No, it wasn’t my leg.) But – what I’m talking about here are the injuries that lead you, your family and friends to ask, “What? HOW did you do that?”

So – tell me – what’s the weirdest way your child has ever hurt his/herself?

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