Good to Know...

Apparently, it is quite simple for a person with very small fingers to pry all the keys off a Macbook Pro. 
Should you find yourself in such a predicament, you may consult the diagram below for reassembly.  In the event that you are missing keys once your keyboard is properly restored, you may consult your baby's diaper.

On the rare occasion that I venture into public without my two adorable babies, I am briefly offended that no one pays any attention to me.

Parental Confession #11

You know that scene in The Princess Bride when Buttercup dreams that she attends her coronation as queen and, as she proceeds amongst her royal subjects, the crone appears yelling "boooooo, boooooo! Bow down to filth and dirt!"  In the dream, the crone condemns Buttercup for not being worthy of her position and in so doing justifies her deepest insecurities and self doubts.

Well, I had the pleasure of that experience this afternoon.

After picking up my son from the bus stop, we stopped off at the coffee shop for tea and milk before heading to my studio for an afternoon of lessons, homework, and iPod fun.  We were short on time, Joe was tired, and we found a parking spot directly in front of the coffee shop door so I told him he could wait in the car, which of course I locked and left the window cracked.  I was in and out in under three minutes but, as I unlocked the door and handed Joe his milk I heard,

"Exuuuuuuse me.  Is that your car?  The one with the child in it?!"

Oh, man.

I turned to face a formidably heavy set woman with a cell phone.  For the benefit of everyone within a block's radius she began to scream,

"You're lucky I didn't call the police!  Leaving your child in the car!  You're a f@#*ing, horrible, lazy mother!!! I'm just about to call the police!!!"

This is when I jumped in the car and got out of there but, just in case you're ready to go viral with this, let me explain that it is NOT illegal to leave a child Joe's age in the car unless the weather is extremely hot (it was 65 degrees) and you leave the keys in the ignition. 

Despite knowing in my heart I am not a f@#*ing, horrible, lazy mother, I still struggled not to cry and shake through the rest of the afternoon.  How did that scary beast of a person know I had recently been questioning my capacity to be a patient, loving parent?  How did she know I struggled daily to get through the day without yelling too much, or ignoring anyone, or letting my kids run into the wall and get too many bruises?

From the moment a woman is visibly pregnant, there will be those who feel compelled to judge her competence as a parent.

The greater challenge is not to judge ourselves. 

Parenting Tip # 5

Don't use cloth diapers on laundry day.
Sure, they're great for the environment, but nothing spoils the high of fresh laundry like a big pile of crap.

Parental Tip #4

Two Words:  HOMEMADE  PINATA

The key here is to build a pinata for no particular occasion other than the fact that your hyper five-year-old is bored again and you have an entire afternoon to fill.  Actually, this project will occupy multiple afternoons since it has to dry and be decorated.

When the pinata is complete, fill it with the leftover Halloween candy you've been hiding in the freezer all year (to protect your loved ones from tummy aches and cavities).  After that, put it on the top shelf of the bookcase to "keep it for a holiday".  Then, just when your five-year-old has forgotten about it and is ready to move out because living with you is too boring, you can say,

"Hello, what have we here?  Why, it's a pinata filled with candy.  You know, normally these are for very special occasions but, what the hell, let's bust this baby open right now".

Congratulations.  You have just achieved Mom of the Year.

Daddy loves all his children equally but harbors a special affinity for  Root Baby.

Parental Tip #3

You don't have to shop at Walmart in order to brand your child.  Target offers a wide selection of clothing featuring your child's favorite characters -  guaranteed to illicit judgement from the good mothers of Berkeley.

Parental Confession #10

The hardest thing about parenting for me is the noise, both physically and psychologically.  Incidentally, this is also the hardest aspect of teaching violin. 

Parenting Tip #2

Do not over-contemplate the color pink.  It is just a color.

Quotable

A few choice lines from Joe Frank, who is 5 and has excess energy:

Wo-ka-bang, Chi-ka-bang!

also:

Hucka-bucka-YEAH!
Hucka-bucka-YEAH!

The First Day of School

Today Joe Frank started Kindergarten.

Yesterday I attended an orientation given by the Kindergarten teachers.  At this meeting specific instructions were given to all parents on how to conduct ourselves on the first day of school.  We were to bring our Kindergarteners to the enclosed Kindergarten playground, kiss them goodbye, and leave.  Coffee and pastries were provided in the school library in an attempt to lure us away.  This procedure was designed to create order and flow on the first day of Kindergarten.  At the meeting, all parents nodded in agreement that such a plan was sound and sage.

This morning on the Kindergarten playground it was pure mayhem.  Mostly due to the overwhelming number of adults crammed into the small enclosed play area clinging to their five-year-olds for security.

A devout rule-follower, I vowed to drop off Joe Frank and head to the library for coffee and pastries.  Everything went okay at first.  Eric and I got there early, walked Joe to the playground, procured his name tag from Ms. Debbie, and said goodbye.  We were just leaving the gate and heading down the sidewalk to the car when I heard, "Mommmmmmmy!"

And there was Joe Frank, clinging to the chain-linked fence and sobbing.

So, despite our best efforts to be obedient parents who help the teachers make the first day flow, we hung out on the playground amidst total chaos and clung to our baby boy.

To our credit, we were not one of the parents who followed their child into the school and loitered in the back of the classroom. . .

We were subtly hiding in the bushes.

 

Parental Confession #8

Tonight instead of picking up all the toys and clothes and food flung all over the floor, I sat on the couch and watched several episodes of Family Ties.

I found this to be very liberating.

Parental Confession #7

Pretty sure Bea ate a coupon today.  Ironically, it was for baby-proofing products.

Parental Confession #6

Today, while I was doing the laundry, Alfie ate the corner off a cardboard box. 
At least he's using all those new teeth...

Parenting Tip #1

Throw a bowl of Cherrios on the floor and let your baby graze.  This will provide minutes of entertainment.

Vacation

Every once in a while an event occurs in the life of my child that triggers a long-forgotten memory from my own childhood.  My son, who is five, recently returned from a five-day trip with his grandparents.  They had taken him to a time-share condo about three hours away where he was thrilled to sleep on an actual Murphy bed hidden in the wall.  His vacation was filled with all the delights a five-year-old could wish for - amusement parks, movies, trips to the lake, and an actual arcade.  As he gushed to me about the trip, I recalled a similar experience from my own buried memories.

When I was about the same age as my son, I flew on an airplane to Florida.  It was my very first plane ride, which may be why I remember the occasion.  We were traveling south with my grandparents to vacation in their condo on the beach.

The condo was located in a simple high-rise about half a block from the beach, which I avoided.  I was convinced the ocean floor dropped off into the abyss exactly three feet into the waves. 

The condo itself was decorated in shades of peach.  My five-year-old brain documented the interior as the set of the Golden Girls - white wicker furniture and floral cushions.  My sister and I shared a bedroom furnished with twin beds and sporting a seashell motif.

Off the shuffle board court, I spent most of my time on the floor of the tiny parapet balcony playing with Legos while Grandpa hovered above me in a lawn chair enjoying the sea breeze.  One afternoon, a piece escaped under the balcony railing and landed one floor down on the sidewalk below.  A man happened to be passing and Grandpa called down,

"Hey Mac!  Toss that thing up here, will ya?"

The man reached down, retrieved the Lego and flung it up to Grandpa who caught it in one hand.

"Thanks, fella", Grandpa said to the man.

I don't actually recall the exact terms of endearment Grandpa used but the effect was imprinted on my five-year-old vacation brain.  I thought that was so cool - Grandpa's ease with this stranger and the way he caught a Lego flung up from such an immense distance (again, one floor). 

And now here's my son constructing his own memories, which will soon become buried in a lifetime of experiences.  Whatever he recalls, I am confident his memories of his first vacation with Nana and Opa will warm his heart.

 

Just when you think parenting is finally getting easier, you realize one of your children is actually missing.

Your Confessions

My family shows well.  Our five-year-old Joe Frank is polite and easy going at school and in the homes of his friends.   Our baby twins Bea and Alfie rarely cry at the super market and their double cuteness charms just about anyone they encounter.  My husband Eric and I generally present ourselves as relaxed, flexible parents who rarely raise our voices to our seemingly obedient and pleasant children.    

However.  Should someone stumble upon our lovely little family at around 9:30 pm during the nightly bedtime routine, or rather fiasco, they would get a glimpse of the harsh but very genuine reality of raising a family.  Hungry, tired, dirty parents trying to feed, clean, and tuck into bed hungry, tired, dirty kids; racing the clock so they will be well rested for the next day and we will be able to crash before midnight.  Welcome to the danger zone: a volatile combination of fatigue, time constraints and repressed emotions.  This is when children push all the buttons at the same time, with seemingly no regard for the beasts their parents are fighting to restrain within themselves.  Pushed to the brink of control, we parents lose the grip on rational, constructive parenting skills and let fly those horrible one-liners that we immediately regret.  You know what I mean:  the words we are sure will land our precious children in therapy.

Each family has its own version of the danger zone.  For many people, the volatile time of day is morning- getting dressed, fed and out the door in time for school.  For others, it’s any time any place. Whatever the time of day, the scenario usually involves the typical factors of fatigue, time constraints and repressed emotions, both for the child and the parent.

As I said, most of my family’s less-than-ideal parenting moments occur at bedtime. 

The other night amidst two screaming babies and a wired five-year-old who just would not listen to my words, I yelled,

“Are you really so stupid that you can’t see I’m about to kill you!?”

Appalled but not altogether surprised by my own horrible expressions, I began fishing for quotes from other parents. Rather than feeling embarrassed about the horrible things they’ve said to their children, most people expressed relief in confessing their parental sins as well as camaraderie in realizing almost all parents harbor an inner beast.   I was so thrilled by the wave of conversation my little project evoked that I am resolved to create a larger forum – perhaps a blog devoted entirely to parental confessions!  After all, we all need to vent that repressed badness we harbor all day long. . . . .

Some of the most memorable quotes went as follows:

“I am going to rip your face off!  I mean, you get a time out”.

“If you throw that in the toilet, I will throw you out the window”.

“What you just did is retarded and you’re stupid”.

"Well, you're the worst little boys in the world!"  (In response to "I hate you!" from one son and "You're the worst mother in the world" from the other (uttered almost simultaneously):

“Yes, we’re almost there! Shut up!” 

"You're sleeping outside tonight".

For many parents, it’s not what you say, so much as how you say it.  Polite requests uttered in demonic voices seemed to be a technique of choice.

Then there are the actions or rather reactions.  A friend of mine who is one of the most patient mothers I know recently shared this story:

I remember one time when my son was probably 3, when I got so frustrated with him as he grabbed all his books off the bookshelves and threw them on the floor (I don't remember if it was just for fun, or if he was having a tantrum) that I came into the room, yelled "let me help you!" and violently shook the bookshelf so that most of the books crashed off onto the floor. What a monster, me! (Is it a coincidence that monster and mother have so many letters in common?).

The vast majority of parents I interviewed admitted saying horrible things to their children, then immediately deleting the words from their memory.  If you cannot recall right now but feel the need to confess in the future, or just wish to reassure yourself that you are a normal parent, stay tuned for a future forum dedicated especially to you: the overstressed, good parent who occasionally vents through words instead of actually killing your children. 

What if the Virgin Mary had had twins?

A Poem

Once upon a time there was a goose.

And then it bonks into the tree.

And then it dies. 

And then a skeleton steps out of it.

And then it crashed into a train.

and then a ghost steps out of it.

The end. 

 

 

-Joe Frank age 5

On Confessions...

Hello fellow mothers and fathers,

I am working on a little blog/essay project and I need to gather some data.  I'm hoping to collect a lengthy list of completely useless, misdirected, and unproductive one liners we shout at our little angels in those moments of utter frustration and tempers lost.  These are the things we can't believe come out of our mouths and which we are sure will send our children straight to therapy as adults.  They may be insults, threats, or gruesome inappropriate analogies. 

Once I assemble a comprehensive list, I will then ask several child professionals to translate the quotes into well-thought-out, appropriate, responsible phrases. 

This has all stemmed from the progress and lack thereof we are making with Joe Frank.  His genius preschool teacher is helping us all work on language to express feelings of aggression and frustration toward certain twin babies who are apparently a permanent fixture in our lives.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it does not but I am fascinated by the possibilities of words.

I assure you that your contributions to this project will be completely anonymous.

To get you started, let me share one of my most recent remarks, which I am oh so proud of:

To Joe Frank during the nightly bedtime charade while the babies both scream and he continues to throw things at their heads:

"Are you really so stupid that you can't see I'm about to kill you!?"

Eloquent, tender, loving.  What can I say...

I hope this inspires you to share.  I think we all assume these quotes were adequately provoked so there will be no judgement whatsoever. 

Thanks for your help!   love Sarah

ps. I'd better get some responses or I will have to move where nobody knows me...

Flashback

There is something vintage about this photograph.  I can't quite put my finger on it but it reminds me of so many pictures from the 50's.  Dad on a Sunday morning- he worked hard all week and now he just wants to read his paper.  Those pesky kids are thrilled to still be in their jammies at 11:00.

Nothing can make one feel as ignorant as a baby that won't go to sleep....

Nighttime Management

The other night the twins woke me up five separate times to nurse.  About 5:00 AM, I was just drifting off to sleep when I opened my eyes to find Joe Frank's face about six inches from my own.

"Mommy," he whispered, "when is it going to be morning?"

"Not for a while yet, sweetheart.  Please go back to bed."

TRANSLATION: "!@#  &*%  #  !@#$%  ^&*, sweetheart.  &^*(!  #$v% ^&*(  $%  !@#"

Parental Confession #5

I clunked the twins' heads together.  

Don't worry- they're fine.... This type of accident typically occurs when they decide they need to breastfeed at exactly the same time.  Just for the record, the clunking is due to the difficulty of positioning two babies for nursing, not because I'm trying to knock the idea out of their heads...

Parental Confession #4

I cannot drive my minivan.  

A minivan is a necessary evil when one must transport three or more children in car seats.  When we learned we were expecting twins, my parents-in-law generously donated their minivan to our cause.  As grateful as I am, I cannot maneuver this monstrosity.  In three months time my previously impeccable driving record has been demolished.  At a recent Twins By the Bay meeting I managed to get the thing wedged into a parking space so tightly I could not get it out (luckily a very pregnant woman with nerves of steel managed to do this for me).   Then, on my first day back at work, I backed the thing right into a parked car, cracking the bumper.  I never even saw it.  (Yes, I left a note.)

I'm not even sure I'm legally eligible to drive a car this large.  I am four feet, eleven and a half inches tall and, technically speaking, I think you have to be five feet to legally drive (my license says I'm an even five feet).  In fact, according to the state of California, a person my size should still be in a car seat.  I should definitely not be driving a minivan...

Parental Confession #3

Today I fell asleep pushing the stroller.

 

Mastering Curious George

I am now as proficient at reading Curious George as I once was at learning concertos. Seriously. Anyone can sight read a children's story but, once you have read the same story every single night for several months, you start to own it. The words, memorized, come alive as you begin to perform the story as if you were on the Shakespearean stage. You tell the story as if you wrote it. And that, in essence, is why we musicians practice so much.

Parental Confession #2

I taught my son to make voodoo dolls. Well, not intentionally but here's what happened: In an attempt to make my son feel excited and secure about becoming a big brother (we are expecting twins soon), I have been engaging him in a number of projects. Specifically, big boy projects that babies are not allowed to do. One of his favorites is sewing. I thought it would make him feel really grown up and official to have his very own pin cushion and, because I am actually Martha Stewart, we decided to make one. To find inspiration we visited my favorite website in the whole wide world: Etsy.com . There we discovered the cutest little pattern for an owl shaped pin cushion. So, we set to work. Joe Frank cut out the pattern (this may have been the first mistake)and he helped me sew the thing up on the sewing machine (he likes to crank the needle wheel by hand. It's slow going but eventually gets the job done). Then we ironed on some felt eyes and Joe stuffed the thing and voila! The cutest little owl you've ever seen! Then. We stuck the pins in and it got a little weird...

Parental Confession #1

Son of Ass: Term coined by our four-year-old son based on a conglomeration of my vocabulary.