Dear Diary,
I've had a list sitting on my desk for more than a year.
It is titled: ADULT PHRASES I NEVER UNDERSTOOD AS A KID (BUT DO NOW).
It is a brainstorm of phrases like, "Wait 'till your father gets home," and "This is going to hurt me as much as it will hurt you." You know, stuff my growing and logical mind didn't understand in childhood. Then one day, after the veil of childhood is removed, full knowledge of the reasons adults say these things is revealed.
Let me share what I have on my list so far.
Maybe.
Oooh, as a young child that answer brought hope: "Mom said, 'Maybe we can go get ice cream later!'" Though it wasn't a yes, it wasn't a no, either.
Then as I got older I realized that maybe really was a no couched in a soft cloud of ain't-gonna-happen-so-get-over-it. I know. I use it with my own kids.
Get dressed, you might feel better.
After a few feverish days of lying in bed and being fed fried egg cut together with bits of plain toast, I am told to take a shower and get dressed, I might feel better.
Now I am clean, have on jeans and a t-shirt, and I still feel like crud. (Puh-leease don't send me to school!)
As a parent, I have nothing but sympathy for my sick kids...until the second or third day I am missing work or a long-planned lunch date with an old friend. Try a shower and clean clothes, kids! You might feel better!
Are you sure you want to spend your money on that?
As someone who got piddly diddly for an allowance, I didn't have much freedom for spontaneous or random purchases. My purchases were carefully planned and thought out. Of course I'm sure I want to buy that lime green, vinyl, inflatable chair. It is sooo groovy and just the right size for watching TV and playing Pong. Never mind that it would last only a week.
As an adult, I spew these words before I can catch myself, usually when my kids are buying their umpteenth big-eyed stuffed animal with their piddly diddly allowance money. Of course they are sure, or they wouldn't be standing in the check out line counting out their quarters, nickels and dimes.
I need to take a nap.
Really? Aren't naps for babies?
I remember after the big Christmas meal, with all the cousins and grand- and great grandparents, having to WAIT HOURS (it seemed to me) to open the huge pile of presents surrounding the tree because certain OLD PEOPLE needed a nap before proceeding with their day.
It's CHRISTMAS and I am seven years old.
Who makes a seven-year-old wait until 3 pm to open presents?
I wonder how many anonymous phone calls DCFS gets on December 25th?
As an adult -- though not an OLD one -- I understand that a nap really can be a lovely thing. Especially on my green couch in the sun room. But only on non-gift-giving days.
{Yawn}
The couch is calling.
What are some phrases you remember that just didn't make sense when you were a kid, but do now?
LJ
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Dressing Room Moments II
Dear Diary,
After several weeks and two failed attempts, I am happy to be publishing a post!
There was a moment in a dressing room recently that I just can't keep to myself.
[Link here for my first dressing room moment post written almost one year ago.]
I want to share it because it was such a cliche moment for us parents grappling with our teens' choices....a charming speech given by a quietly desperate mother trying to steer her daughter's choice into another direction. A moment parents are guaranteed to find themselves in sooner or later.
While my oldest daughter was trying on summer clothes, three mothers, moi included, were stuck in the cramped space outside our daughters' dressing room doors. Much like being in an elevator, those close quarters really only allow for staring at the floor or the door behind which your daughter stands. Occasionally the awkwardness would be broken when a mother decided it was time to talk directly through the door, straining to hear the grumbled/mumbled replies, as if making negotiations at a drive through window.
"Do you need another size?"
And so it went.
Doors opening and shutting,
girls and mothers conferring,
hangars of clothes passing from one hand to another.
A dressing room door nearby opened and The Mom stepped forward to look within. Then I heard a one-way conversation by this mother that went like this:
"Are you sure you want to wear that? I mean in public-- you would wear that in public? You will be wearing that in front of your grandfather; you wouldn't be embarrassed wearing that in front of him?"
I could only imagine what she was viewing on her daughter....a swimsuit? Short shorts? A tank top?
I chuckled, but only because it wasn't me trying to cajole my daughter into wearing something more modest or appropriate.
I was not unsympathetic. I was ready to acknowledge this mother's troubles with my oh-what-we-mothers-put-up-with solidarity face.
My daughters have modesty built into them like a V6 in a Mustang GT. So I haven't had to make those kinds of arguments with them.
I think it helps that their mother models it.
(Modesty, not the Mustang. But I wish I was modeling the Mustang....I digress.)
Our growing children have minds of their own and a desire for making independent choices. Some of their choices are questionable and require the universal parental admonishment, "If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump too?"
Or my new favorite, "Would your grandfather approve?"
Yes, I chuckled at that scene.
And I am oh-so-grateful I haven't had to pull out the "grandfather approval" card.
Yet.
Happy shopping!
LJ
After several weeks and two failed attempts, I am happy to be publishing a post!
There was a moment in a dressing room recently that I just can't keep to myself.
[Link here for my first dressing room moment post written almost one year ago.]
I want to share it because it was such a cliche moment for us parents grappling with our teens' choices....a charming speech given by a quietly desperate mother trying to steer her daughter's choice into another direction. A moment parents are guaranteed to find themselves in sooner or later.
While my oldest daughter was trying on summer clothes, three mothers, moi included, were stuck in the cramped space outside our daughters' dressing room doors. Much like being in an elevator, those close quarters really only allow for staring at the floor or the door behind which your daughter stands. Occasionally the awkwardness would be broken when a mother decided it was time to talk directly through the door, straining to hear the grumbled/mumbled replies, as if making negotiations at a drive through window.
"Do you need another size?"
"Can I see it on you? I am buying it so I need to see it on you."
"Are you almost done?"
"Here, I got you a different color."
And so it went.
Doors opening and shutting,
girls and mothers conferring,
hangars of clothes passing from one hand to another.
A dressing room door nearby opened and The Mom stepped forward to look within. Then I heard a one-way conversation by this mother that went like this:
"Are you sure you want to wear that? I mean in public-- you would wear that in public? You will be wearing that in front of your grandfather; you wouldn't be embarrassed wearing that in front of him?"
I could only imagine what she was viewing on her daughter....a swimsuit? Short shorts? A tank top?
I chuckled, but only because it wasn't me trying to cajole my daughter into wearing something more modest or appropriate.
I was not unsympathetic. I was ready to acknowledge this mother's troubles with my oh-what-we-mothers-put-up-with solidarity face.
My daughters have modesty built into them like a V6 in a Mustang GT. So I haven't had to make those kinds of arguments with them.
I think it helps that their mother models it.
(Modesty, not the Mustang. But I wish I was modeling the Mustang....I digress.)
Our growing children have minds of their own and a desire for making independent choices. Some of their choices are questionable and require the universal parental admonishment, "If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump too?"
Or my new favorite, "Would your grandfather approve?"
Yes, I chuckled at that scene.
And I am oh-so-grateful I haven't had to pull out the "grandfather approval" card.
Yet.
Happy shopping!
LJ
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
A Very Big Girl Day
Dear Diary,
My oldest girl is growing up.
She had a Very Big Girl Day today.
She had the day off of school --the second day off to be precise, thanks to another polar bear vortex --and, being the tough Midwesterners we are, we decided it was an opportunity to head out the frosty door and take care of some Big Girl business.
First, she dropped off her first job application. I sat on a hard bench in the elevator lobby and watched her head up to floor #3 of the office complex with application in hand.
Without me.
I knew if I went with I'd just meddle; I Really Wanted To Go Orchestrate Her Success Myself.
Next, with Certificate of Completion in hand, we went to the DMV for a new DL. Yup. Her first driver's license.
Trying hard to suppress flashbacks of my own failed first road test, I sat in a blue plastic chair nervously waiting for her return.
I had given her permission to Fail. Does that make me a bad mother?
I prayed for her. Any question about bad mothering was now redeemed.
She passed, of course. The chain of road test failure going back one generation had been broken!
We admired her shiny plastic ticket-to-freedom. Nice picture, too.
Next we hit the road again, this time to the local drug store for a valid passport photo. My Big Girl is going to Europe this summer. Without her mommy. Who has never been overseas.
Rats.
Add the 23 letters from colleges and universities that she received within one week of her published PSAT scores, and have I painted a clear picture of my girl getting Soooo Big?
Yet somehow I get the feeling she wasn't the only one who put on her Big Girl Pants today.
Feelin' small and humble,
LJ
My oldest girl is growing up.
She had a Very Big Girl Day today.
 |
| Filling some big shoes 13 years ago. |
First, she dropped off her first job application. I sat on a hard bench in the elevator lobby and watched her head up to floor #3 of the office complex with application in hand.
Without me.
I knew if I went with I'd just meddle; I Really Wanted To Go Orchestrate Her Success Myself.
Next, with Certificate of Completion in hand, we went to the DMV for a new DL. Yup. Her first driver's license.
Trying hard to suppress flashbacks of my own failed first road test, I sat in a blue plastic chair nervously waiting for her return.
I had given her permission to Fail. Does that make me a bad mother?
I prayed for her. Any question about bad mothering was now redeemed.
She passed, of course. The chain of road test failure going back one generation had been broken!
We admired her shiny plastic ticket-to-freedom. Nice picture, too.
Next we hit the road again, this time to the local drug store for a valid passport photo. My Big Girl is going to Europe this summer. Without her mommy. Who has never been overseas.
Rats.
Add the 23 letters from colleges and universities that she received within one week of her published PSAT scores, and have I painted a clear picture of my girl getting Soooo Big?
Yet somehow I get the feeling she wasn't the only one who put on her Big Girl Pants today.
Feelin' small and humble,
LJ
Saturday, May 4, 2013
1-2-3's of Parenting; A Lesson in Bravery
Dear Diary,
I recently read a post, written by a wonderful friend, on the topic of Bravery. Her topic got me thinking about how brave acts aren't just those extreme antics in which I rarely participate (does my Extreme Vacation count?), but they can also be found in daily occurrences.
Scheduling the dreaded mammogram, talking with your child's teacher about problems at school, sticking up for a friend or coworker, sending out job applications, riding in the car with a 15-year-old at the wheel, and disciplining your children, are just a few of these daily acts of bravery.
Over the years I have been asked about (and/or complimented on) my childrens' behavior. Educators, family and friends, church acquaintances, and even strangers at restaurants would say, "My, your girls are well behaved. My kids would be all over the place."
I don't like to preach, but today I am stepping out in bravery to do so. (Or perhaps this could be viewed as a little motherly advice, which so often unwittingly sounds like preaching, doesn't it?)
My kids are older now, with my youngest at age 10. These things were more relevant in my household when they were little: toddler through early primary grades, the "formative years."
So if you are in a place where you could use my parenting advice, be brave and continue reading. Otherwise, skip to the Wrap Up!
There are two things that were key to my well-behaved children.
First, when a child was exhibiting inappropriate behavior, I expected them to respond to my command the first time I asked.
"Daughter, stop jumping on the couch."
If the child continued, I might ask a second time (with a middle name thrown in for emphasis), but no more.
I set high expectations for my girls: good grades, respect for others, obedience. It takes a special kid to be motivated to behave above and beyond any low expectations that was set for him/her. That's why my expectations are high.
I have a little confession. The use of what I call the "1-2-3 Method" drives me a teensy bit crazy. You know what I mean by the 1-2-3 Method -- where an adult gives a child time to decide whether or not to obey by counting to three (or five or ten).
If a parent resorts to cajoling a disobedient child, and then ends up using the 1-2-3 Method, who is really in control? I am no Lehman or Freud, but it doesn't take an appearance on Dr. Oz to figure out the answer.
I have two premises to this advice. I assume the child can 1) hear me and 2) understand the language I am speaking.
Repeating oneself, coaxing, and giving them time, is well, giving the child control. I have even worked with hard of hearing children and even they can understand a command (in their language) the first time!
It takes bravery to follow through on the consequences when a child doesn't listen the first time. I will leave that aspect up to you. But as was the case in our home, it has payoff. Big time. To the point where even strangers notice.
There may be parents who say, well that may have worked for you but that won't work for us. To them I say, feel free to share what is working for you! I'm sure there are parents out there who find the 1-2-3 Method "works" for them. I am not writing to change your ways. Just stating what worked for me.
The second key is an easier one.
Transitions can be hard for kids. To go from one activity to the next with no warning might make a child rebel (tantrum, whine, argue). Many parents transition their kids, and I am all about that. Give a child a warning that in ___ minutes we will (be going to the store, finishing with TV, going to bed) or whatever. Then stick to it and don't let them sucker you into "just a few more minutes," at least not regularly!
Wrap Up
It takes bravery to be a good parent.
But brave acts of any kind can result in appreciating life on a whole new level.
What are your everyday acts of bravery?
Courageously yours,
LJ
I recently read a post, written by a wonderful friend, on the topic of Bravery. Her topic got me thinking about how brave acts aren't just those extreme antics in which I rarely participate (does my Extreme Vacation count?), but they can also be found in daily occurrences.
Scheduling the dreaded mammogram, talking with your child's teacher about problems at school, sticking up for a friend or coworker, sending out job applications, riding in the car with a 15-year-old at the wheel, and disciplining your children, are just a few of these daily acts of bravery.
Over the years I have been asked about (and/or complimented on) my childrens' behavior. Educators, family and friends, church acquaintances, and even strangers at restaurants would say, "My, your girls are well behaved. My kids would be all over the place."
I don't like to preach, but today I am stepping out in bravery to do so. (Or perhaps this could be viewed as a little motherly advice, which so often unwittingly sounds like preaching, doesn't it?)
My kids are older now, with my youngest at age 10. These things were more relevant in my household when they were little: toddler through early primary grades, the "formative years."
So if you are in a place where you could use my parenting advice, be brave and continue reading. Otherwise, skip to the Wrap Up!
There are two things that were key to my well-behaved children.
First, when a child was exhibiting inappropriate behavior, I expected them to respond to my command the first time I asked.
"Daughter, stop jumping on the couch."
If the child continued, I might ask a second time (with a middle name thrown in for emphasis), but no more.
I set high expectations for my girls: good grades, respect for others, obedience. It takes a special kid to be motivated to behave above and beyond any low expectations that was set for him/her. That's why my expectations are high.
I have a little confession. The use of what I call the "1-2-3 Method" drives me a teensy bit crazy. You know what I mean by the 1-2-3 Method -- where an adult gives a child time to decide whether or not to obey by counting to three (or five or ten).
If a parent resorts to cajoling a disobedient child, and then ends up using the 1-2-3 Method, who is really in control? I am no Lehman or Freud, but it doesn't take an appearance on Dr. Oz to figure out the answer.
I have two premises to this advice. I assume the child can 1) hear me and 2) understand the language I am speaking.
Repeating oneself, coaxing, and giving them time, is well, giving the child control. I have even worked with hard of hearing children and even they can understand a command (in their language) the first time!
It takes bravery to follow through on the consequences when a child doesn't listen the first time. I will leave that aspect up to you. But as was the case in our home, it has payoff. Big time. To the point where even strangers notice.
There may be parents who say, well that may have worked for you but that won't work for us. To them I say, feel free to share what is working for you! I'm sure there are parents out there who find the 1-2-3 Method "works" for them. I am not writing to change your ways. Just stating what worked for me.
The second key is an easier one.
Transitions can be hard for kids. To go from one activity to the next with no warning might make a child rebel (tantrum, whine, argue). Many parents transition their kids, and I am all about that. Give a child a warning that in ___ minutes we will (be going to the store, finishing with TV, going to bed) or whatever. Then stick to it and don't let them sucker you into "just a few more minutes," at least not regularly!
Wrap Up
It takes bravery to be a good parent.
But brave acts of any kind can result in appreciating life on a whole new level.
What are your everyday acts of bravery?
Courageously yours,
LJ
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
One of THOSE Parents
Dear Diary,
I'm actually surprised this scenario hasn't happened sooner. At least to my knowledge.
I guess the delay stems from my deep desire to not bring attention to myself. (Actually, I secretly like attention, but only if it's positive. You know, the isn't she cute/smart/funny, or boy I wish I could be more like her, kind of attention. It's the negative, brow furrowing attention I shun.)
I am talking about embarrassing my kids. I'm not one of those parents who deliberately embarrasses their kids in front of their friends. I am too genteel for that. Especially if they are new friends. However, I have no problem singing to the radio while driving carpool if they are old friends.
But I won't go around talking about my kids' skin problems or do my Super Grover impersonation in front of their friends just for kicks. Some parents might do that. My brother for instance. But not I.
So the other day I was informed by my freshman daughter I was needed to drive home not one, but four additional friends from school. Upper classman. And three of the four were boys.
Hmmmm. Interesting.
If I were one of those parents, I could have used that pent up time in the car to really make my daughter (and her friends) uncomfortable.
I imagine some mortifying conversation starters like this:
* So, you guys got girlfriends?
* Do any of you go to church?
* Don't you think my daughter is talented/smart/cute?
* You wanna be my friend on Facebook?
* Are you looking to make an extra buck? 'Cuz I could use some help shoveling my driveway.
That's just the tip of the iceberg.
But that is not me.
I want to be a cool mom. Or at least a nice mom.
Outgoing, without being in-your-face.
Showing interest, without the inquisition.
Pleasant.
With all the friends deposited safely-- and seemingly without embarrassment-- at their destination, my daughter admitted she had "warned" at least one of the boys ahead of time about me and what I "might say."
WHAT?
Innocent, little me? Tame, conscientious, ever-mindful me?
I was surprised. Though I always knew it, up till now, my kids had never admitted to my face that I had the potential for embarrassment.
Yet, perhaps even more surprising was that I felt somewhat flattered. I felt validated as a mom of teenagers. So I do have a little edge. Just enough to make my offspring a little paranoid.
I admit that feels kind of good.
And I've only just started.
Rockin' the boat,
LJ
I'm actually surprised this scenario hasn't happened sooner. At least to my knowledge.
I guess the delay stems from my deep desire to not bring attention to myself. (Actually, I secretly like attention, but only if it's positive. You know, the isn't she cute/smart/funny, or boy I wish I could be more like her, kind of attention. It's the negative, brow furrowing attention I shun.)
I am talking about embarrassing my kids. I'm not one of those parents who deliberately embarrasses their kids in front of their friends. I am too genteel for that. Especially if they are new friends. However, I have no problem singing to the radio while driving carpool if they are old friends.
But I won't go around talking about my kids' skin problems or do my Super Grover impersonation in front of their friends just for kicks. Some parents might do that. My brother for instance. But not I.
So the other day I was informed by my freshman daughter I was needed to drive home not one, but four additional friends from school. Upper classman. And three of the four were boys.
Hmmmm. Interesting.
If I were one of those parents, I could have used that pent up time in the car to really make my daughter (and her friends) uncomfortable.
I imagine some mortifying conversation starters like this:
* So, you guys got girlfriends?
* Do any of you go to church?
* Don't you think my daughter is talented/smart/cute?
* You wanna be my friend on Facebook?
* Are you looking to make an extra buck? 'Cuz I could use some help shoveling my driveway.
That's just the tip of the iceberg.
But that is not me.
I want to be a cool mom. Or at least a nice mom.
Outgoing, without being in-your-face.
Showing interest, without the inquisition.
Pleasant.
With all the friends deposited safely-- and seemingly without embarrassment-- at their destination, my daughter admitted she had "warned" at least one of the boys ahead of time about me and what I "might say."
WHAT?
Innocent, little me? Tame, conscientious, ever-mindful me?
I was surprised. Though I always knew it, up till now, my kids had never admitted to my face that I had the potential for embarrassment.
Yet, perhaps even more surprising was that I felt somewhat flattered. I felt validated as a mom of teenagers. So I do have a little edge. Just enough to make my offspring a little paranoid.
I admit that feels kind of good.
And I've only just started.
Rockin' the boat,
LJ
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Audacious for Advice
Dear Diary,
Ever meet an expert or professional of some useful service and want to pick their brain or get free advice? I do all the time.
Oh, you are a hairdresser?
What do you think of my hair? Do you think this cut fits my face? Should I take out the gray? How do I hide my cowlicks? Do you know a good cosmetologist? I need to learn how to accentuate my eyes. Better yet, do you know a good, but cheap, cosmetic surgeon?
You are a family practice physician?
Boy, do I get pains in my (fill in the blank). In fact, right now I am kind of achy in the (fill in the blank). Is this something I should get checked out, or just take Advil, or what? And there is this thingy on my foot. Do you think it's serious? Will I need x-rays/surgery/medicine/therapy?
You work for a talent agency?
You know I used to be on the stage. Loved it. Was told all the time I'm a natural. Always wanted to do ads and TV and stuff. Have you seen my kids? They are pretty photogenic. My oldest did a rad Scarecrow in Wizard of Oz in 6th grade. Yup, they are pre-tty talented. And, well, you know where they get it from...
A techno geek?
Wow, you know my computer runs real slow, and sometimes my keyboard won't type the letter 'a'. Oh, and to properly boot it I have to simultaneously press Shift-F12 while standing on one foot and humming the UW fight song. Can you check it out for me?
You are a photographer?
Wow, we are looking to get the family portrait done again since the last one we did was before our youngest was born. Now she's 10. You think you can pull off the miracle of getting all five of us to simultaneously take a good picture (complete with ten non-blinking eyes)? Oh, and could you give me some highlights and a chin-tuck while you are at it?
Just to clarify, these are not things I would actually say to a specially trained person outside of their office. I may think them, but I am otherwise too shy and conscientious to bother them with my little problems. "Make an appointment," my right-shouldered angel of conscience would say. Audacity is not me.
I am guessing there are some who don't mind answering those questions, even on their day off. Likewise, I'd guess there are many who grit their teeth in annoyance when they are asked for their professional opinion for the umpteenth time at a dinner party.
Thankfully I don't have a vocation like that so I am not peppered with requests for advice or opinions.
"Oh, LJ, you are a wife and mother of three girls? What is the best way to wash a pink, sparkly tutu?"
Until next time,
LJ
Ever meet an expert or professional of some useful service and want to pick their brain or get free advice? I do all the time.
Oh, you are a hairdresser?
What do you think of my hair? Do you think this cut fits my face? Should I take out the gray? How do I hide my cowlicks? Do you know a good cosmetologist? I need to learn how to accentuate my eyes. Better yet, do you know a good, but cheap, cosmetic surgeon?
You are a family practice physician?
Boy, do I get pains in my (fill in the blank). In fact, right now I am kind of achy in the (fill in the blank). Is this something I should get checked out, or just take Advil, or what? And there is this thingy on my foot. Do you think it's serious? Will I need x-rays/surgery/medicine/therapy?
You work for a talent agency?
You know I used to be on the stage. Loved it. Was told all the time I'm a natural. Always wanted to do ads and TV and stuff. Have you seen my kids? They are pretty photogenic. My oldest did a rad Scarecrow in Wizard of Oz in 6th grade. Yup, they are pre-tty talented. And, well, you know where they get it from...
A techno geek?
Wow, you know my computer runs real slow, and sometimes my keyboard won't type the letter 'a'. Oh, and to properly boot it I have to simultaneously press Shift-F12 while standing on one foot and humming the UW fight song. Can you check it out for me?
You are a photographer?
Wow, we are looking to get the family portrait done again since the last one we did was before our youngest was born. Now she's 10. You think you can pull off the miracle of getting all five of us to simultaneously take a good picture (complete with ten non-blinking eyes)? Oh, and could you give me some highlights and a chin-tuck while you are at it?
Just to clarify, these are not things I would actually say to a specially trained person outside of their office. I may think them, but I am otherwise too shy and conscientious to bother them with my little problems. "Make an appointment," my right-shouldered angel of conscience would say. Audacity is not me.
I am guessing there are some who don't mind answering those questions, even on their day off. Likewise, I'd guess there are many who grit their teeth in annoyance when they are asked for their professional opinion for the umpteenth time at a dinner party.
Thankfully I don't have a vocation like that so I am not peppered with requests for advice or opinions.
"Oh, LJ, you are a wife and mother of three girls? What is the best way to wash a pink, sparkly tutu?"
Until next time,
LJ
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