As I woke up Monday morning, the third day of traveling, I mentioned to Rich that it would be nice to find a good cup of coffee. We had a coffee maker in the room, but since I can only have coffee a few (like two or three) times a month, when I decide to drink coffee, I want what I want. In this case, it was not a cup of Torke hotel coffee that had been sitting for a very long time which I craved. For you video gamers in the reading audience, little did I know I had just embarked on what was to become a side quest in the over all mission called our “vacation.”
Rich and I forced the children to wake up, dress themselves, and eat breakfast. No major breakfast hassles outside of normal family/kid stuff, which means that there were probably twenty of them and I am so numb I find them unblog-worthy. The van was then unlocked, aired out, children strapped in, electronic devices turned on, and the GPS set for destination: Jewel Cave.
On the way to Jewel Cave, we did not pass a single coffee shop, not even a Starbucks. If I was so inclined, I could have started smoking, as there were plenty of smoke shops, but alas, no smoke shops that served coffee. Irked, but unconcerned about the coffee, I settled in to enjoy the incredible mountains and ponderosa pines that South Dakota had to offer.
Rich and I were commenting on the scenery and enjoying the overall view. At one point, we asked the kids to really take a look around them and appreciate the scenery. SEE the scenery. The boys response: “Ooo..more trees, more rocks, more grass!” in perfect three part harmony. Imagine being in a mini van with surround sound sarcasm. Clearly, the kids were in South Dakota for different reasons than Rich and I; scenery was not one of them.
We had reserved our tour for Jewel Cave a week in advance because their tours sellout so fast. The kids thought Rich and I were horribly mean for making them pack long sleeves and pants to take the tour (which is recommended on the website as the average temperature in the cave is a brisk 46 degrees Fahrenheit at all times and located 70 feet below ground). Thankfully, upon arrival they witnessed other mean parents whose children were dressed in a similar fashion. Before leaving, I had been tipped off about something called the Junior Ranger Program. Basically, the kids can ask for a worksheet, look at the exhibits, signage around them, glean tidbits from the tour, fill in the worksheet, and then turn it for a Junior Ranger Badge.*
All four kids completed the sheet and earned their badge. Rich and I helped Brandon with the reading and spelling parts. Rich helped Lauren with all of her sheet, but by the end of our tour she understood why she was touring Jewel Cave, all 723 steps of it. To hear her and Brandon tell it now, they walked each one of those steps; the reality is not quite as glamorous. (By the end of the trip, Rich and I had lost five pounds from all the walking and our biceps looked great from taking turns carrying those two kids.)
After a late lunch and a trip to a candy store, we headed back the hotel for a night of swimming and Papa John’s pizza. Since Papa John’s went out of business in Stevens Point and our hotel pool had a water slide and our backyard does not, this was a huge deal. It was also a great deal of fun. By the end of swimming pool time, Lauren and I were water slide professionals. Brandon made Rich climb the steps to the pool four times but never went down the slide. Jonathon and Noah were going down the slide head first, in chains and making trains. They were even trying to talk Brandon and Lauren into some crazy stunts that were quickly vetoed by me due to concerns of safeness and legality.
When the pool started getting crazy busy at 8:30pm, it was the perfect time for us to head back to the room and begin what we thought was bath/shower time for our chlorinated kids, but was really the beginning of the insidious TV marathon called The Suite Life of Zach and Cody. Apparently, the kids had some crazy idea they were on vacation too and they should be able to unwind by watching the Disney X channel. For the Disney Channel X uneducated, I think X stands for even more eXtreme crap playing eXtremely more often. As to the aforementioned show, you are not missing anything; I promise. I endured four days of watching it, so trust me on this one. (I had watched it before, but in very small, small doses, occasionally glancing up from the book I was reading.)
We then played a rousing game of “Who is Sleeping Where Tonight?” No one was voted out of the hotel room, so we closed our eyes and drifted to sleep in anticipation of our next trip to Mount Rushmore.
* Yes, I confess! My husband and I took our kids to South Dakota this summer and made them learn stuff! We forced them to really look and read the exhibits! We made them *hold onto your monitors* do critical thinking activities *gasp*! They are now more informed and more educated then before they left Wisconsin. You caught me red handed!
Monday, August 3, 2009
The South Dakota Saga (Day 2 - Sunday)
Sunday morning Rich and I were mostly awake because we had no choice. Everyone was dressed, the minivan was packed for the five hour trip to Rapid City, and all of us were HUNGRY for breakfast. Upon scoping out the breakfast situation at the Econolodge, the most accurate description I can think of is 40 cranky travelers and their kids, one waffle maker, six four-seater tables, and Torke coffee, all in an area the size of two smallish mini vans. Now, I am usually one that does not pass up a free breakfast, however, there is a point where I believe I invite my own pain (as this continued blogging of this trip will prove). As we were standing in line, I looked Rich. Rich looked at me. Our eyes met. I mouthed the word, “Perkins.” Rich nodded and sighed in relief. We quickly herded children, making sure we only herded the ones that belonged to us, and headed out the door.
After an uneventful trip to Perkins and Wal-mart, our clan was on the way to the Corn Palace. Anticipation was high. The temperature was higher. Tempers were even higher, but once we settled our bottoms into our seats, the intricate dance for which electronic device needed to be charged in the one working lighter plug-in began in earnest and kept the clan quite occupied. We arrived in Mitchell with a minimum of piddle emergencies* and trauma. The family watched the twelve minute video about the history of the Corn Palace. (Please note: Brandon did so under extreme duress, which caused me extreme stress.) Three of the children had their picture taken with the cheesy plastic corn on the cob in front of the Corn Palace; Brandon refused (little did I know that would be another reoccurring theme throughout the trip. Please reference the family photograph in front of Mount Rushmore).
Since no one in our group was overly impressed by the CP, it was time to lock and load the mini van and head off to the Badlands National Park. It was so cool to watch the kids scamper and jump all over the Badland formations. Rich was convinced that Lauren was going to tumble over and down, down into one of the seemingly bottomless canyons of which she kept peering over the edge. The boys, upon seeing the “Beware of Rattlesnakes” sign, admittedly lost some of their bravo and the Badlands lost some of their mystique and coolness. Rich and I wanted to climb Harney Peak, the top from which you can see five states, but our kids were definitely not up to the 3.2 one way climb over unkind terrain, so that idea was quickly shelved as Rich and I were not up to carrying four kids over unkind terrain. We made a few more scenic stops in the Badlands and then proceeded to Wall Drug for our free water.
Wall Drug, in short, is another word for a tourist zoo. Ugh. Been there, done that, took some cheesy tourist pictures and was so very happy to leave. The best word to described Rich’s feeling of Wall Drug: appalled.
Once again, the adventure became interesting when hit our “homebase” located in Rapid City. We checked into the AmericInn and went to forage for supper. Rich and I, with the blessing of the children, decided that the T.G.I.Friday’s seemed like our best bet on a Sunday night. Here is a word of advice to future travelers: When the waitress tells you there has been a fire in the kitchen, just leave. No matter how hungry the kids are or how much the waitress reassures you everything is fine, just leave. Rich and I knew better then to stay as there were all kinds of invisible restaurant “red flags” that we chose to ignore. Noah summed up the experience best when he said, “Promise not to take us back there the entire time we are in South Dakota! That was not worth it!”
Rich and I agreed with Noah! It was then back to the AmericInn to set up our homebase for the next four days and try to get some shuteye. Everyone was quite tired, so everyone slept. In fact, some people snored, but it wasn’t the grown ups!
*piddle emergency: One of the kids screaming quite forcibly and at top volume, any of the following phrases: "I have to go the bathroom!" "I am going to wet it!" I have to go piddle right now!" The following phrases may be used as a follow up: "I am not going to make it!" "I reeaalllyyy have to go super badly!" These phrases should only be used after a gas station with a bathroom or a rest area have been passed on the interstate.
After an uneventful trip to Perkins and Wal-mart, our clan was on the way to the Corn Palace. Anticipation was high. The temperature was higher. Tempers were even higher, but once we settled our bottoms into our seats, the intricate dance for which electronic device needed to be charged in the one working lighter plug-in began in earnest and kept the clan quite occupied. We arrived in Mitchell with a minimum of piddle emergencies* and trauma. The family watched the twelve minute video about the history of the Corn Palace. (Please note: Brandon did so under extreme duress, which caused me extreme stress.) Three of the children had their picture taken with the cheesy plastic corn on the cob in front of the Corn Palace; Brandon refused (little did I know that would be another reoccurring theme throughout the trip. Please reference the family photograph in front of Mount Rushmore).
Since no one in our group was overly impressed by the CP, it was time to lock and load the mini van and head off to the Badlands National Park. It was so cool to watch the kids scamper and jump all over the Badland formations. Rich was convinced that Lauren was going to tumble over and down, down into one of the seemingly bottomless canyons of which she kept peering over the edge. The boys, upon seeing the “Beware of Rattlesnakes” sign, admittedly lost some of their bravo and the Badlands lost some of their mystique and coolness. Rich and I wanted to climb Harney Peak, the top from which you can see five states, but our kids were definitely not up to the 3.2 one way climb over unkind terrain, so that idea was quickly shelved as Rich and I were not up to carrying four kids over unkind terrain. We made a few more scenic stops in the Badlands and then proceeded to Wall Drug for our free water.
Wall Drug, in short, is another word for a tourist zoo. Ugh. Been there, done that, took some cheesy tourist pictures and was so very happy to leave. The best word to described Rich’s feeling of Wall Drug: appalled.
Once again, the adventure became interesting when hit our “homebase” located in Rapid City. We checked into the AmericInn and went to forage for supper. Rich and I, with the blessing of the children, decided that the T.G.I.Friday’s seemed like our best bet on a Sunday night. Here is a word of advice to future travelers: When the waitress tells you there has been a fire in the kitchen, just leave. No matter how hungry the kids are or how much the waitress reassures you everything is fine, just leave. Rich and I knew better then to stay as there were all kinds of invisible restaurant “red flags” that we chose to ignore. Noah summed up the experience best when he said, “Promise not to take us back there the entire time we are in South Dakota! That was not worth it!”
Rich and I agreed with Noah! It was then back to the AmericInn to set up our homebase for the next four days and try to get some shuteye. Everyone was quite tired, so everyone slept. In fact, some people snored, but it wasn’t the grown ups!
*piddle emergency: One of the kids screaming quite forcibly and at top volume, any of the following phrases: "I have to go the bathroom!" "I am going to wet it!" I have to go piddle right now!" The following phrases may be used as a follow up: "I am not going to make it!" "I reeaalllyyy have to go super badly!" These phrases should only be used after a gas station with a bathroom or a rest area have been passed on the interstate.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
The Saga of South Dakota (Day 1 - Saturday)
As a parent, there are times you know certain moments will set the tone for an entire experience. As I was waiting for our late night supper at Arby’s in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, I knew that that the following exchange between Jonathon, Noah, and I was going be one of those defining moments.
To give you a little (or perhaps too much) background, Rich has always wanted to see Mount Rushmore. It has been one of his dreams for as long as I have known him, so in interest of pursuing his dream (and in spite of Jon’s: “Why do we have to pursue Dad’s dream” continued four month diatribe) we packed up and headed out west to South Dakota.
We arrived in Sioux Falls, tired, cranky, and hungry, around 8:00pm to a busy, but not fabulous Econolodge. Rich and I decided the best strategy would be to divide and conquer; he would check us into the hotel and I would scarce up some food at Arby’s. We also divided children in a 3:1 ratio; he had Brandon and I had Jonathon, Noah and Lauren.
The kids and I are waiting for our food in Arby’s when rather suddenly, Noah looks at Jonathon and rather indignantly says: “Jonathon, you are not dying of the world's deadliest rash! You are NOT going to die before we get back to Wisconsin! Mom wouldn’t have even taken you on this trip if you were that sick!” Now, I am usually on top of deadly rashes as they pertain to my children, even contagious rashes for that matter, but I was admittedly clueless on this one. Jon, Noah, and I looked down at the “rash” in question. It looked like a well scratched, peeling sunburn…which was impossible because Jon lives in soccer gear had not recently been sunburned. My best guess at the time: Jon had some funkiness above his ankle leftover from wearing soccer pads and socks for half the year and never told me about it. It did not appear life threatening; truth be told the “deadly rash” in question looked like something a little Gold bond could take care of quite effectively.
I sighed. I closed my eyes and sighed again and prayed for patience or a quick lightening bolt to the forehead to end my misery and parenting woes. My headache worsened and I was still alive, so apparently, the prayer for patience was answered and I had to deal with the issue of the rash, or more accurately, the stunt Jon just pulled on Noah. “Really? REALLY?” I asked Jonathon, in exasperation, and trying not to let any laughter into my voice because sometimes the stuff these kids pull on each other does catch me off guard. Jon’s defense, “What? It’s funny! And it’s Noah. And he figured it out.”
I wish I could tell you I had some epiphany of a mom moment and turned it into something teachable for the kids. Nope. The three of us stood there laughing. Lauren looked at me and said, “ I don’t get it, my brothers are being kind of dumb. Is our food ready yet?” I did more shaking of my head and some more sighing, and told Jon not to pull it on Brandon. (“Mom, Brandon would just tell me to hurry up and die. I am not pulling it on him.”) However, I knew then and there this trip was going to be one for the books.
That night at the hotel provided less opportunity to relax or rest. Apparently, six of sleeping on top of each other was not quite enough entertainment for the night, so during lights out, Brandon took the mini flashlight he was using as a night light and shined it upon the ceiling. He then proceeded to place his hand over the beam, treating the other five of us to the image of his oversized shadow hand on the ceiling. Subsequently, gruesome sound effects for the shadow hand soon followed from the voices of the ten and under crowd, but no worries, the clichéd, necessary, and appropriate Stars Wars quotes were also included at no extra charge.
Thank goodness my head was already on a pillow. I could then 1) use it to muffle my screams and 2) not actively search out a brick wall to bang my head against when the other three children started begging for a turn with the flashlight to create their own shadow creations. The shadow hand was severed and I did a mystical sleep/dance while attempting to share a queen size bed with Brandon and Lauren. Really, I just wished for morning between unfitfull bursts of napping, but I like the previous description as it sounds less painful and implies that I might have caught some zzzz's.
To give you a little (or perhaps too much) background, Rich has always wanted to see Mount Rushmore. It has been one of his dreams for as long as I have known him, so in interest of pursuing his dream (and in spite of Jon’s: “Why do we have to pursue Dad’s dream” continued four month diatribe) we packed up and headed out west to South Dakota.
We arrived in Sioux Falls, tired, cranky, and hungry, around 8:00pm to a busy, but not fabulous Econolodge. Rich and I decided the best strategy would be to divide and conquer; he would check us into the hotel and I would scarce up some food at Arby’s. We also divided children in a 3:1 ratio; he had Brandon and I had Jonathon, Noah and Lauren.
The kids and I are waiting for our food in Arby’s when rather suddenly, Noah looks at Jonathon and rather indignantly says: “Jonathon, you are not dying of the world's deadliest rash! You are NOT going to die before we get back to Wisconsin! Mom wouldn’t have even taken you on this trip if you were that sick!” Now, I am usually on top of deadly rashes as they pertain to my children, even contagious rashes for that matter, but I was admittedly clueless on this one. Jon, Noah, and I looked down at the “rash” in question. It looked like a well scratched, peeling sunburn…which was impossible because Jon lives in soccer gear had not recently been sunburned. My best guess at the time: Jon had some funkiness above his ankle leftover from wearing soccer pads and socks for half the year and never told me about it. It did not appear life threatening; truth be told the “deadly rash” in question looked like something a little Gold bond could take care of quite effectively.
I sighed. I closed my eyes and sighed again and prayed for patience or a quick lightening bolt to the forehead to end my misery and parenting woes. My headache worsened and I was still alive, so apparently, the prayer for patience was answered and I had to deal with the issue of the rash, or more accurately, the stunt Jon just pulled on Noah. “Really? REALLY?” I asked Jonathon, in exasperation, and trying not to let any laughter into my voice because sometimes the stuff these kids pull on each other does catch me off guard. Jon’s defense, “What? It’s funny! And it’s Noah. And he figured it out.”
I wish I could tell you I had some epiphany of a mom moment and turned it into something teachable for the kids. Nope. The three of us stood there laughing. Lauren looked at me and said, “ I don’t get it, my brothers are being kind of dumb. Is our food ready yet?” I did more shaking of my head and some more sighing, and told Jon not to pull it on Brandon. (“Mom, Brandon would just tell me to hurry up and die. I am not pulling it on him.”) However, I knew then and there this trip was going to be one for the books.
That night at the hotel provided less opportunity to relax or rest. Apparently, six of sleeping on top of each other was not quite enough entertainment for the night, so during lights out, Brandon took the mini flashlight he was using as a night light and shined it upon the ceiling. He then proceeded to place his hand over the beam, treating the other five of us to the image of his oversized shadow hand on the ceiling. Subsequently, gruesome sound effects for the shadow hand soon followed from the voices of the ten and under crowd, but no worries, the clichéd, necessary, and appropriate Stars Wars quotes were also included at no extra charge.
Thank goodness my head was already on a pillow. I could then 1) use it to muffle my screams and 2) not actively search out a brick wall to bang my head against when the other three children started begging for a turn with the flashlight to create their own shadow creations. The shadow hand was severed and I did a mystical sleep/dance while attempting to share a queen size bed with Brandon and Lauren. Really, I just wished for morning between unfitfull bursts of napping, but I like the previous description as it sounds less painful and implies that I might have caught some zzzz's.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Brandon's Buffet
This afternoon, the children, the boys especially, having made it through the morning without being placed up for adoption (and let me tell you, between the hours of 10:00 am and 1:00pm, I was investigating the legality of that option), decided to open a restaurant downstairs. It was the most amazing synergy I have seen from the boys in a long time. Brandon was the manager. Jon and Noah were the employees.
The bar was set nicely with paper plates and napkins. The area was completely (and to my utter amazement) cleared of accumulated toys and clutter. It was even..washed off..miracle of miracles. I took my place at the bar to be served; there was no consensus as to what number customer I actually was ever reached, as they were unsure whether or not to count themselves as customers. I was rapidly served a 7up and a Nutrigrain bar.
After I completed my meal, I participated in a "promotion" that was going on at the restaurant: I had to try to throw mini stuffed animals through a basketball hoop that Jonathon was moving up and down and around. The explanation offered to me for this event: The management is constantly working on things to keep their place entertaining and fun because they do not want their customers to be bored. They are working towards becoming a sports bar, but since they are not allowed to have the TV on in the afternoons, options are currently limited and they are focusing on promotions.
Once I was done with my promotion, which, I failed miserably at, by the way, I went upstairs. I was soon followed by Noah, who informed me that he had been fired by Brandon. Brandon was quickly up the stairs too, explaining to his brother, "I am not going to pay someone to lay around and sit on the couch all day. Jon's working, so Jon gets paid. That's final."
Noah wasn't keen on being unemployed and left out of the family business, so I convinced Brandon to hire him back as a bathroom cleaner; after all, who wants to go out to eat at a place with skeevy bathrooms? So, Noah, cleaning supplies in hand, was gainfully employed again, Brandon was happy, and my downstairs bathroom was clean.
One of the most interesting parts of this story is trying to explain how Brandon managed everything, including his brothers; firing Noah was just one example. When Jonathon became disgruntled with his "lowly" position, Brandon said, "I'll tell you what Jonathon, you can earn higher levels, all the way up to 10. You are level one right now. You can earn level 2 by not bothering Noah for twenty minutes. I will go upstairs and set the timer right now." AND Jon agreed. And was proud of himself for accomplishing level two. Jon also reached level 3 when he did not bother Lauren for twenty minutes, although this happened later in the running of the business.
There was also the constructing and the making of the sign and menu, which Brandon also oversaw, and took intense concentration and cooperation by all three boys. Both the sign and menu welcome everyone to "Brandon's Buffet" as they walk into the downstairs family room. After the sign making, Lauren and a friend were brought into the family business. Sadly, the friend had to go home, but after she left an area was set up behind my couch for "employees only." This is where the owners brainstorm on ideas on how to grow their business, keep customers, run their business more efficiently, and what kind of food to offer. Again, Brandon is what is known as "the lead" in the industry during these meetings.
After two hours of running a business, Brandon found out even an owner/manager needs sustenance to maintain his energy and came upstairs in search of the ever popular PB&J. He asked me to make it for him as he was hustling two ice teas downstairs to his employee meeting. When I asked him why I had to do it now that he owned his own restaurant, this was his response: "I am very busy now. Besides, you spread the jelly faster and you just make them better."
Brandon even managed to melt me enough to make him a PB&J.
The bar was set nicely with paper plates and napkins. The area was completely (and to my utter amazement) cleared of accumulated toys and clutter. It was even..washed off..miracle of miracles. I took my place at the bar to be served; there was no consensus as to what number customer I actually was ever reached, as they were unsure whether or not to count themselves as customers. I was rapidly served a 7up and a Nutrigrain bar.
After I completed my meal, I participated in a "promotion" that was going on at the restaurant: I had to try to throw mini stuffed animals through a basketball hoop that Jonathon was moving up and down and around. The explanation offered to me for this event: The management is constantly working on things to keep their place entertaining and fun because they do not want their customers to be bored. They are working towards becoming a sports bar, but since they are not allowed to have the TV on in the afternoons, options are currently limited and they are focusing on promotions.
Once I was done with my promotion, which, I failed miserably at, by the way, I went upstairs. I was soon followed by Noah, who informed me that he had been fired by Brandon. Brandon was quickly up the stairs too, explaining to his brother, "I am not going to pay someone to lay around and sit on the couch all day. Jon's working, so Jon gets paid. That's final."
Noah wasn't keen on being unemployed and left out of the family business, so I convinced Brandon to hire him back as a bathroom cleaner; after all, who wants to go out to eat at a place with skeevy bathrooms? So, Noah, cleaning supplies in hand, was gainfully employed again, Brandon was happy, and my downstairs bathroom was clean.
One of the most interesting parts of this story is trying to explain how Brandon managed everything, including his brothers; firing Noah was just one example. When Jonathon became disgruntled with his "lowly" position, Brandon said, "I'll tell you what Jonathon, you can earn higher levels, all the way up to 10. You are level one right now. You can earn level 2 by not bothering Noah for twenty minutes. I will go upstairs and set the timer right now." AND Jon agreed. And was proud of himself for accomplishing level two. Jon also reached level 3 when he did not bother Lauren for twenty minutes, although this happened later in the running of the business.
There was also the constructing and the making of the sign and menu, which Brandon also oversaw, and took intense concentration and cooperation by all three boys. Both the sign and menu welcome everyone to "Brandon's Buffet" as they walk into the downstairs family room. After the sign making, Lauren and a friend were brought into the family business. Sadly, the friend had to go home, but after she left an area was set up behind my couch for "employees only." This is where the owners brainstorm on ideas on how to grow their business, keep customers, run their business more efficiently, and what kind of food to offer. Again, Brandon is what is known as "the lead" in the industry during these meetings.
After two hours of running a business, Brandon found out even an owner/manager needs sustenance to maintain his energy and came upstairs in search of the ever popular PB&J. He asked me to make it for him as he was hustling two ice teas downstairs to his employee meeting. When I asked him why I had to do it now that he owned his own restaurant, this was his response: "I am very busy now. Besides, you spread the jelly faster and you just make them better."
Brandon even managed to melt me enough to make him a PB&J.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
A not so random act of kindness
The last week of school was, to say the very least, busy. Crazy busy. The kind of busy where your home is the just place you drop off all your stuff because, wisely, no one else will allow that amount of crap into their household. After you drop your stuff, you lay your head on pillow, sleep, wakeup, change your clothes, pick up new crap, and leave. Well, repeat this for four days times four kids who do not hold cleanliness next to godliness, minus one husband, plus two extra kids, and you can only imagine how un-Better-Homes-and-Garden-like the house looked on Friday morning.
However, there was simple act of kindness my children were going to perform that day before we left for Jon's soccer game and Lauren left for her sleepover, even if it killed me. They were going to do it even if I had to take away every privilege they had ever earned, short of me taking away the air they breathed. My children were going to clean the family room so their father, my husband, could watch Game 7 of the Stanley Cup without risk of breaking his leg when he jumped up to yell at the TV.
Now, considering the mess was primarily that of the kids, this was not an unreasonable request/do it or watch your mother go over the edge demand. Also considering that I was primarily responsible for shuttling them all over Stevens Point, chaperoning their field trips, feeding them, and giving birth to them, that family room was going to be presentable because: "I SAID SO, SO LET'S GO!" (For the curious, that is a direct quote.) The kids were not happy. I was even unhappier; as my kids have come to realize when Mom swallows her "cranky pills" it's best to just ride out the storm and do what they are told to do.
I left Rich a voice mail telling the rest of the house was trashed BUT he had a very clean space in which to watch the game; enjoy. He was thrilled even if the kids were perplexed by how weird and "unfair" it was to get a room ready just for Dad.
Well, if they were confused and disoriented by that amount of housekeeping, I have bad news for them on Monday morning! It is going to be all hands on deck, all units reporting, and a full clean sweep of the Tolbert household. I promise any screams you hear from this house will be from me and not the from the children, as they will be too busy inventing excuses to get out of work to muster up the energy to scream.
However, there was simple act of kindness my children were going to perform that day before we left for Jon's soccer game and Lauren left for her sleepover, even if it killed me. They were going to do it even if I had to take away every privilege they had ever earned, short of me taking away the air they breathed. My children were going to clean the family room so their father, my husband, could watch Game 7 of the Stanley Cup without risk of breaking his leg when he jumped up to yell at the TV.
Now, considering the mess was primarily that of the kids, this was not an unreasonable request/do it or watch your mother go over the edge demand. Also considering that I was primarily responsible for shuttling them all over Stevens Point, chaperoning their field trips, feeding them, and giving birth to them, that family room was going to be presentable because: "I SAID SO, SO LET'S GO!" (For the curious, that is a direct quote.) The kids were not happy. I was even unhappier; as my kids have come to realize when Mom swallows her "cranky pills" it's best to just ride out the storm and do what they are told to do.
I left Rich a voice mail telling the rest of the house was trashed BUT he had a very clean space in which to watch the game; enjoy. He was thrilled even if the kids were perplexed by how weird and "unfair" it was to get a room ready just for Dad.
Well, if they were confused and disoriented by that amount of housekeeping, I have bad news for them on Monday morning! It is going to be all hands on deck, all units reporting, and a full clean sweep of the Tolbert household. I promise any screams you hear from this house will be from me and not the from the children, as they will be too busy inventing excuses to get out of work to muster up the energy to scream.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Sports Mom
School is out for the summer and everyone keeps asking me what our "plans" are for the 82 days that consist of the kids vacation. Other than shuttling kids to soccer, baseball, play dates, and one trip to South Dakota, I really have no idea. Honestly, I am so not that mom. I want to be that mom with the crafts and arts projects, days planned to the beach, trips planned to the park, and healthy snacks ready to go, but I am more of the mom who wakes up and says, "Wow, it's not raining, everyone out of their pajamas so we can go to the park...and don't forget the water because I am too cheap to buy soda!"
The kids are attending summer school because they begged me to enroll them in it and made me fill out the papers. Noah felt like I robbed him out of a life experience by not letting him attend summer school last year. Lauren is just excited that she is a 5K girl (kindergartner) now and will be going to Washington School with her brothers. She is going to be a nut all summer asking me about the first day of school. She already thinks I am lying to her about the fact there is no school for a week. (Wait until middle school Lauren, just wait.)
Jonathon is playing competitive soccer again this year. He plays for a traveling team and I cannot believe the schedule my son has this week. In addition to a Tuesday and Thursday game, it is a tournament weekend, so he will play three games this weekend, with the possibility of two more for the championship. What amazes me is Jonathon, and all the boys on the team for that matter, come fully prepared to play the five games. I know it is an obvious thing to say, I mean, who comes to a sporting event prepared to lose, but it is amazing to watch these 10 and 11 year boys working their tails off, hustling after a soccer ball, listening to directions from coaches, advice from the sidelines, remembering what to do, giving it their all, for FIVE games in three days, in the rain, in the cold, in the sun, and even in the sleet or snow.
(I will say that soccer is something that Jonathon (unlike me) WANTS to do and is not forced to do, so I am sure that makes a huge difference in his attitude.)
Noah and Brandon have tried soccer and they, well, to sum up Noah's feelings about the sport in the middle of the field with all the parents watching my kid, "I HATE SOCCER!" They come to Jon's games, along with Lauren, and roam the fields with other siblings like a band of soccer orphans. For an hour this band of gypsy children are told very supportive phrases like, "Go in the van and play your DS!" or "Sit behind the chairs!" or "Go play in the empty field with the other kids, stop pestering me so I can watch your brothers game!" Sometimes, during very intense games, we as parents buy them off at half time with junk food from the concession stand if it is open. We aren't proud: We are soccer parents and hockey parents have nothing on us when it comes to craziness, fanaticism, or the lengths of the states we are willing to travel to allow our kids the opportunity to compete.
Noah and Brandon participate in baseball and T-all respectively. Noah enjoys baseball because he is with his friend James; he is not a competitive sports person. Time will tell if he will ever have that "spark" or if other passions will take over his life. Brandon is crazy athletic. He is like every six year old on the team: One minute spot on, running, fielding, perfect form, and the next drawing in the dirt, looking at an airplane in the sky, or waving to me. Really, they should pay parents to let their kids participate in T-ball.
Lauren is our dancer. When Lauren dances it is like every day is Christmas for her and the world stops turning. I cannot believe how much one dance class once a week brought Lauren out of her shell. She pillaes (sp?), ballerina jumps, and padashas all over the house. Her special dance leotards hang in my closet so they don't "get junky (her words)." I signed her up for Jazz to go along with Ballet next year and she is out of her mind excited for that to start too.
So, the kids are growing and leading active lives. It is one sport per child per season and that barely saves on sanity. Fortunately, we have some incredibly awesome friends on the boys' teams that are willing to help us out with carpooling and surrogate parenting when Rich is out of town and I cannot morph to be two places at once.
Sorry, I have to end this post. I think it's my night to bring snack.
The kids are attending summer school because they begged me to enroll them in it and made me fill out the papers. Noah felt like I robbed him out of a life experience by not letting him attend summer school last year. Lauren is just excited that she is a 5K girl (kindergartner) now and will be going to Washington School with her brothers. She is going to be a nut all summer asking me about the first day of school. She already thinks I am lying to her about the fact there is no school for a week. (Wait until middle school Lauren, just wait.)
Jonathon is playing competitive soccer again this year. He plays for a traveling team and I cannot believe the schedule my son has this week. In addition to a Tuesday and Thursday game, it is a tournament weekend, so he will play three games this weekend, with the possibility of two more for the championship. What amazes me is Jonathon, and all the boys on the team for that matter, come fully prepared to play the five games. I know it is an obvious thing to say, I mean, who comes to a sporting event prepared to lose, but it is amazing to watch these 10 and 11 year boys working their tails off, hustling after a soccer ball, listening to directions from coaches, advice from the sidelines, remembering what to do, giving it their all, for FIVE games in three days, in the rain, in the cold, in the sun, and even in the sleet or snow.
(I will say that soccer is something that Jonathon (unlike me) WANTS to do and is not forced to do, so I am sure that makes a huge difference in his attitude.)
Noah and Brandon have tried soccer and they, well, to sum up Noah's feelings about the sport in the middle of the field with all the parents watching my kid, "I HATE SOCCER!" They come to Jon's games, along with Lauren, and roam the fields with other siblings like a band of soccer orphans. For an hour this band of gypsy children are told very supportive phrases like, "Go in the van and play your DS!" or "Sit behind the chairs!" or "Go play in the empty field with the other kids, stop pestering me so I can watch your brothers game!" Sometimes, during very intense games, we as parents buy them off at half time with junk food from the concession stand if it is open. We aren't proud: We are soccer parents and hockey parents have nothing on us when it comes to craziness, fanaticism, or the lengths of the states we are willing to travel to allow our kids the opportunity to compete.
Noah and Brandon participate in baseball and T-all respectively. Noah enjoys baseball because he is with his friend James; he is not a competitive sports person. Time will tell if he will ever have that "spark" or if other passions will take over his life. Brandon is crazy athletic. He is like every six year old on the team: One minute spot on, running, fielding, perfect form, and the next drawing in the dirt, looking at an airplane in the sky, or waving to me. Really, they should pay parents to let their kids participate in T-ball.
Lauren is our dancer. When Lauren dances it is like every day is Christmas for her and the world stops turning. I cannot believe how much one dance class once a week brought Lauren out of her shell. She pillaes (sp?), ballerina jumps, and padashas all over the house. Her special dance leotards hang in my closet so they don't "get junky (her words)." I signed her up for Jazz to go along with Ballet next year and she is out of her mind excited for that to start too.
So, the kids are growing and leading active lives. It is one sport per child per season and that barely saves on sanity. Fortunately, we have some incredibly awesome friends on the boys' teams that are willing to help us out with carpooling and surrogate parenting when Rich is out of town and I cannot morph to be two places at once.
Sorry, I have to end this post. I think it's my night to bring snack.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
The Perfect Mom
I often wonder which elements my children's "perfect mother" would consist of. Would she keep her house perfectly clean, always be there to have the perfect homework answer, give just the right answer to the most challenging of questions, prepare home cooked meals of only the nutritious, well-balanced variety, but make sure to throw in a good fast food meal once in a while so her children do not feel deprived? Also, would she create in her children a good work ethic without them realizing that she was doing it, without them giving her nary an arguement, balancing their material wants with their emotional needs so they all turn out to be emotionally well adjusted adults?
Oh wait, that's my fantasy mother, not my children's. My kids fantasy mother would consist of someone who lets them eat donuts for every meal, wash it down with soda, buys them iPods, an Xbox 360, complete with Halo (unless you are Lauren then you are holding out for Polly Pocket stuff), gives them unlimited screen time on school nights, and a mom that does not, under any circumstance, "waste your good time at church (Jonathon Tolbert)."
In my desperate momements of mommmy insanity, when it feels like I am the only one on the mommy crazy train of over scheduled lives that have too many kids that need to go too many places, I want to grab one of those precious children, force them to look me in the eye, and tell them, "Do you understand that I am doing this for you? I don't need to sit at T-ball/soccer/dance/school to be a better person. I am doing this because I love you and this is important to you!" However, I refrain; it is pointless for two of us be close to a breakdown.
In my darkest moments of mommy wallowing, I wonder to myself, okay, and sometimes to Rich, "Does this even make a difference? Will these kids appreciate it? Do they care about all the schedule arranging, all the things Rich and I give up and rearrange for them? Will they turn out to be decent adults that do not live at home with us well into their forties?" I have faith they my children will turn out just fine because
In my greatest momements of mommy joy, I see and share the laughter and wonder on my childrens faces. We have some marvelous times together as a family. We laugh so hard we have tears coming out of eyes at jokes that will only make sense to us. I watch Jonathon teach his sister soccer or him read Brandon a chapter of Junie B. Jones. I listen to Noah and Brandon quote inappropriate movies lines to each other when they think I am not listening. I watch Brandon carry Lauren's dolls. I see Lauren play army and monster with her brothers. I notice Richard tuck his children into bed and read them stories every night that he is home and by countless examples, teach his children to be decent people in this world.
In my faith filled moments, I know I fall far short of being the perfect mom. That's okay. I know I never will be that mom who has the clean house, has the perfect answer all the time, or always has the meal waiting in the crockpot. I am however, the mom that loves her children beyond measure and strives to show them that in my words and actions.
Oh wait, that's my fantasy mother, not my children's. My kids fantasy mother would consist of someone who lets them eat donuts for every meal, wash it down with soda, buys them iPods, an Xbox 360, complete with Halo (unless you are Lauren then you are holding out for Polly Pocket stuff), gives them unlimited screen time on school nights, and a mom that does not, under any circumstance, "waste your good time at church (Jonathon Tolbert)."
In my desperate momements of mommmy insanity, when it feels like I am the only one on the mommy crazy train of over scheduled lives that have too many kids that need to go too many places, I want to grab one of those precious children, force them to look me in the eye, and tell them, "Do you understand that I am doing this for you? I don't need to sit at T-ball/soccer/dance/school to be a better person. I am doing this because I love you and this is important to you!" However, I refrain; it is pointless for two of us be close to a breakdown.
In my darkest moments of mommy wallowing, I wonder to myself, okay, and sometimes to Rich, "Does this even make a difference? Will these kids appreciate it? Do they care about all the schedule arranging, all the things Rich and I give up and rearrange for them? Will they turn out to be decent adults that do not live at home with us well into their forties?" I have faith they my children will turn out just fine because
In my greatest momements of mommy joy, I see and share the laughter and wonder on my childrens faces. We have some marvelous times together as a family. We laugh so hard we have tears coming out of eyes at jokes that will only make sense to us. I watch Jonathon teach his sister soccer or him read Brandon a chapter of Junie B. Jones. I listen to Noah and Brandon quote inappropriate movies lines to each other when they think I am not listening. I watch Brandon carry Lauren's dolls. I see Lauren play army and monster with her brothers. I notice Richard tuck his children into bed and read them stories every night that he is home and by countless examples, teach his children to be decent people in this world.
In my faith filled moments, I know I fall far short of being the perfect mom. That's okay. I know I never will be that mom who has the clean house, has the perfect answer all the time, or always has the meal waiting in the crockpot. I am however, the mom that loves her children beyond measure and strives to show them that in my words and actions.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
You Just Have To Let Me Go
Tuesday was kindergarten preview day at our school. For the price of your child the school takes your four year old for two nerve (yours and the teachers) racking hours, and lets your child "preview" kindergarten. Lauren was so excited to attend this event. She picked out her clothes the previous night. Painstakingly, she decided upon a pair of jeans and an orange, long-sleeved, Halloween shirt, with the requisite "Christmas ghosts" on it. The outfit was completed by adding her ruby red sparkly shoes as the footwear of choice.
As a mother of four children I have learned that the first child goes to preview day in matching clothes. The fourth child goes to preview day clean and dressed appropriately for the weather; matching clothes are just a bonus.
Well, the morning of big day, I climbed into Lauren's bed to in order to wake her up (she was already awake, but I climbed in anyway). The following is a transcript of the conversation in which she and I engaged:
Me (all mopey,laying next to Lauren):"New little girl that I bought for $2.00 at the store (another game we play), I just can't let you go to kindergarten preview day. I will just miss you too much."
Lauren (cute and cuddly, warm from sleep, looking at me with her big blue eyes): "New mommy, you just have to let me go. I am ready. I can't stay here. I'll give you some extra cuddlebugs* so you won't be sad."
Lauren: "Cuddlebug, Cuddlebug, Cuddlebug. There now put on your happy face and get out of my way. I need to get ready for school."
Me, laying on the bed, silent, stunned while Lauren put on her Halloween shirt.
So, I hauled my numb self up off the bed and shook myself out my "my baby is going to kindergarten" stupor. Of course, Lauren went to school with no trauma, had a fantastic time, was adored by the teachers, and upon picking her up, I was told by Mrs. J., that:
"Lauren has a fantastic imagination! She stood in the kitchen area, holding a baby doll, dialing the phone, and then ordered a pizza! She didn't even drop the baby! She looked at her little baby and said, 'Hold on sweetie, Mommy's ordering pizza!' What a sweetie!"
I told Mrs. J that Lauren was probably just imitating what she learned at home because her mother has an over scheduled life with four kids. It's probably a good thing I don't drop babies when dialing though!
So, beginning in the fall, I will have another child attending school for a full day.
Sometimes the hardest part of being a mom is waving goodbye through the tears and just trusting them when say "Mommy,you just have to let me go."
*Cuddlebug: Excessive hugging while saying the word "cuddlebug." Much gentler than a bearhug.
As a mother of four children I have learned that the first child goes to preview day in matching clothes. The fourth child goes to preview day clean and dressed appropriately for the weather; matching clothes are just a bonus.
Well, the morning of big day, I climbed into Lauren's bed to in order to wake her up (she was already awake, but I climbed in anyway). The following is a transcript of the conversation in which she and I engaged:
Me (all mopey,laying next to Lauren):"New little girl that I bought for $2.00 at the store (another game we play), I just can't let you go to kindergarten preview day. I will just miss you too much."
Lauren (cute and cuddly, warm from sleep, looking at me with her big blue eyes): "New mommy, you just have to let me go. I am ready. I can't stay here. I'll give you some extra cuddlebugs* so you won't be sad."
Lauren: "Cuddlebug, Cuddlebug, Cuddlebug. There now put on your happy face and get out of my way. I need to get ready for school."
Me, laying on the bed, silent, stunned while Lauren put on her Halloween shirt.
So, I hauled my numb self up off the bed and shook myself out my "my baby is going to kindergarten" stupor. Of course, Lauren went to school with no trauma, had a fantastic time, was adored by the teachers, and upon picking her up, I was told by Mrs. J., that:
"Lauren has a fantastic imagination! She stood in the kitchen area, holding a baby doll, dialing the phone, and then ordered a pizza! She didn't even drop the baby! She looked at her little baby and said, 'Hold on sweetie, Mommy's ordering pizza!' What a sweetie!"
I told Mrs. J that Lauren was probably just imitating what she learned at home because her mother has an over scheduled life with four kids. It's probably a good thing I don't drop babies when dialing though!
So, beginning in the fall, I will have another child attending school for a full day.
Sometimes the hardest part of being a mom is waving goodbye through the tears and just trusting them when say "Mommy,you just have to let me go."
*Cuddlebug: Excessive hugging while saying the word "cuddlebug." Much gentler than a bearhug.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
