Homemaker Source

Yertle, thanks for your comments and question. The previous Homemaker job description was courtesy of http://careers.stateuniversity.com/pages/308/Homemaker.html. There are lots of other job descriptions there including a search engine on education.

Being Hostess

We just sent off our last guests from the Thanksgiving holiday and I must admit that I am ready to stop being a hostess. We were blessed with two sets of grandparents and 3 aunts/uncles to share our day and we made a wonderful Thanksgiving paper chain with gratitudes from all written upon it. But as wonderful as family is, it can be tiring to be around others so much.

What I loved about the visits:

- watching the kids interact with their relatives
- watching the grandparents interact with eachother and the playful kidding between my dad and my mother-in-law
- finding ways to make the grandmothers feel involved and part of the process, even if it meant having to compromise
- making things ahead so I could relax a little during the day
- my dad helping with the dogs who desperately needed some outdoor time, but I couldn't give it to them as I was trapped in the kitchen
- my kids dressing up
- Uncle Dave and his dry sense of humor and strong connection with my daughter
- getting to know my "new" borther-in-law even better
- compliments on the meal
- feeling like a team with my mother-in-law and having my step-mom join in at the end
- not doing dishes, hardly ever, as I prepared all the meals

You Tube, My Children, and the Rape Scene

It was just a matter of time.

We pride ourselves on not letting our kids have too much tv time. In fact our tv is smaller than a cereal box and they only watch videos on it. They don't even spend that much time on the computer, maybe 15 - 60 minutes a day.

But it doesn't take a lot of time to stumble upon inappropriate material.

Today my daughter was on You Tube looking up the Pokemon theme song so she could write down the words. She was almost done when my son said he wanted to look at the scary Pokemon video. I didn't think much about it, even when my daughter said it was too scary and she didn't want to see it again. I thought she was being dramatic, but that is not unusual for an 8 year old girl. I asked her how to find it and she told me the name. The Lost Episode. I saw that she had been searching on Ash and May kissing - they are two characters with a lot romantic tension, just like most shows. I scanned the videos after typing in "The Lost Episode", saw one that was animated and clicked.

With my son beside me I tried to click the pause button as soon as I saw the word "rape" in the opening words. I never saw what was next, but simply told my son that this video wasn't appropriate.

I then asked my daughter about the scary video and asked her to tell me what was scary. She said that Ash and May were kissing, and then May was screaming and then she was dead.

8 years old. I feel awful.

Thank goodness it was animated.

We've decide that You Tube is off limits, and we're looking into whether or not they have filters. But what do I say to my daughter? Do I stop with this or do I have a serious discussion about what she saw? What is age appropriate for an 8 year old.

Around this age my mom told me about sex and I remember my first nightmare about it. I used to fly alot in my dreams, up until my 20's, and I was flying in my dream when a man grabbed me and with his 5 foot penis (my mom forgot to put parameters on the items in our discussion) he had sex with me. It was awful and I can still visualize that dream 30 years later.

I don't want to do that to my daughter, but I also don't want to bury my head in the sand.

Moms

When I stopped seeing my mother with the eyes of a child, I saw the woman who helped me give birth to myself.”
-Nancy Friday


Maybe it is not that I need to understand my mother's weaknesses as much as it is that I need to understand and overcome my own.

Myriad of Emotions

I feel a little overwhelmed lately and just on the verge of out of control. At first I got angry at myself for this, thinking I wasn't breathing deeply or taking care of my stress. But now, I'm being more forgiving. As I made this list in my mind, I understood the why and forgave my inability to erase the stress and other emotions:

- One of our employees was killed on Saturday. He was on vacation on a motorcycle trip - he had an accident and was killed instantly. He worked for us for 16 years and one of our senior employees in rank.

- My single dad brother just lost his job and wants us to drop everything and travel to Seattle with him since now his schedule is free. Family visits seem to revolve around his schedule, which makes me resentful. Then I feel guilty for not having more compassion for his situation.

- I'm pretty sure my new dog has dog agression. He's getting better on the leash, but still loses it when we pass other dogs, especially little dogs. He's 60 pounds of muscle - I can hold him back, but it takes a lot. The owners walk nervously and quickly away from me out of fear, and I'm left trying to control Ollie and getting angry, embarrassed and frustrated. Not sure how this one is going to get solved.

- The kids went back to school. Halfway to school, they told my husband (I was at work, feeling guilty for not being there, but knowing I couldn't show up too late the day after an employee died - I was needed at work - I stayed home long enough to help get the kids ready, pack their lunches and get photos) to go home and they walked to school by themselves. They're in 1st and 3rd grade and growing up way too fast!

But I'm alive and employed, married with healthy kids, so I am grateful for that.

Mysterious Black Goo

I love boys.

Heck, I even love men!

But my poor house suffers when too many come over.

This weekend we had 6 kids over for dinner and here are the results:

- Broken bow - 1
- Broken arrow - 2
- Mysterious black goo stain on carpet in workout/yoga room - 1
- Mess - everywhere

The oldest kid of this bunch is a little rowdy and I discovered him with my daughter twice breaking house rules that she should know. She ended up in a time out for quite a while after the second time, and the rest of the kids were told to stay where a parent could see them. I try to be understanding, but I find myself simply not wanting him to come over to my home again. This kid seems to take things just a little too far for my comfort. But he's the son of my close friend's boyfriend and her children and mine play often, so it is natural to sometimes have his two sons too. They have been together for more than 6 months and his family is a fixture in her life.

Maybe I'll hold my judgement until this carpet stain comes up, right now I'm just upset about the damage.

Third Wristband

First of all, thanks to Yerlte for your kind words about unconditional love. You made me very, very happy to know that you feel this way about our friendship and my feelings for you. What a treat to hear it!

An thanks to Sierra for the good dog advice. I took Ollie to a fenced tennis court area and he ran and ran (and pooped three times) and seemed to tire himself out. He likes to catch the ball, but then just prances and shows off that he has it.

So today I took the kids to Boomers, a local amusement park. I used some points from the San Diego Blood Bank, where I donate several times a year, to get all day passes, or "wristbands". We got 4 to start and had planned to take the kids twice while the adult(s) watches. Well, I decided to use a pass for myself. I got to ride go karts, play miniature golf, ride a Ferris wheel, play laser tag, get nauseous on the tea cups, and even ride the merry-go-round swings. I had so much fun playing along with my kids and enjoying the day. I stressed less, yelled less, and threatened less. All in all a good time.

It hit me the hardest when I was on the swings. These are the swings that hang from long chains and then get twirled around - this ride by a large clown - clown story to follow. So my daughter talked me into riding this and I was told to sit in front of a little 4 year old girl, to "balance" the ride. After a few rotations, this darling little girl belts out a "Wheee, yeah!" and throws back her head. Well, who was I not to follow suit. Then she started laughing and laughing - what a delight!

About the clowns, did you know that it is International Clown Week??? We met Dizzy Dave, a quiet, almost nervous clown who works a desk job at AT&T when he is not clowning around. We had a great conversation with him over cotton candy, which the kids offered to share. It was fun to listen to the kids ask him who he saw at ComiCon. (this is the blog for links, huh?). Then we ran into Dizzy's friends in the parking lot - they were joining him for a round of miniature golf - a close knit group of friends, all dressed to the nines in clown gear, and wheeling one clown in a wheelchair. I have never seen a disabled clown and something about the site warmed my heart. To have that joy and to share it, too beautiful. My kids got "I saw a clown today" stickers and it was great! I felt like the town know-it-all when I told them "Oh, Dizzy Dave is inside waiting for you!"

A beautiful day for sure!

Who's Selling These Cookies Anyway?!?!?

It's that time of year and if you went anywhere this past weekend, you were likely asked,

"Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?"

Now, here's the question, who asked you, the Girl Scout or her mom?

I took my daughter to her site sale in front of Bookstar on Saturday and she proceeded to sell cookies along with another little girl from her troop. The other girl's mom and I, though, had different opinions on the appropriate level of our involvement. Personally, I like to be asked and have the entire transaction with the Girl Scout herself. I view this as a learning opportunity and an important step in growing self-confidence and poise. Others view it as a fund-raiser and are more apt to ease their daughters into the responsibility.

So, there we were. I stood off to the side whereas the other mom was behind the table. I only said things like "good morning" to others whereas the other mom asked "Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies".

Again, it never ceases to amaze me the hundreds of little decisions that go into parenting and how amazingly personal and intimate those decisions can be.

Maybe I expect too much out of a 7 year old. Maybe I'm unique in wanting to deal with the girl and not her parent.

But maybe I'm not . . .

Humility and 95%

One of the amazing things about being a parent is reliving some of your youth. Watching your children encounter stages of life and to remember them all over again, both bitter and sweet.

This past week was GATE testing for 2nd graders at our school. GATE stands for "Gifted and Talented Education". It was very interesting to talk with my husband about where we think and hope our daughter will place with this testing.

But it also brought up some interesting memories of my childhood and my mother. Around 3rd grade, I tested for a similar program, whatever it was called back then, and I qualified. My mother, a former school teacher, kept me out of the program, despite the fact that I could have participated based on my scores. I remember watching the kids go to the program and feeling like they were special somehow. I remember being jealous of the projects they got to work on.

My mom told me that she didn't want me to get too big an ego and that was the reason she kept me out. This is a very similar theme to how she talked to me about my appearance, never saying I was pretty for fear of me using my looks instead of my brains. Looking back, it puzzles me that she felt the need to keep me down. Was I really at risk of becoming an egomaniac. Was I already too big for my britches at such a young age that I needed to be put in my place?

Maybe I'll ask her.

This past week I got the very sad news that my father needs to go back in for surgery. Just 4 months ago he went in for surgery to remove cancer in his colon. He's been undergoing chemo ever since. They found a lump, though, in his lung. This lump is closing off the top lobe of his lung and making that part not even operable. I went up to help him with the procedure to get a biopsy of the lump. They were not able to get to the lump due to the location.

They and he have decided that he needs surgery to remove not only the lump, but the entire lobe of his lung. To do this, they actually have to cut off a rib to get to it. Then they "glue" the rib back on. Recover is two months. His chances for surviving the surgery alone are 95%. I find myself focusing intently on this number. That means he has a 5% chance of dying on the operating table, just one day after his 68th birthday. 5% sounds small, until you think that it means 1 in 20 people, then it sounds really big. For that 1 in 20, that number is 100%.

I'm scared for my dad. I'm scared for my life without him. I feel like it is finally sinking in that he is dying of cancer, but then I remember all of the cancer survivors out there and I think positively for his outcome. Maybe if he lives, he'll do those things he's been putting off . . . retirement, travel, etc.

The Dreaded Thank You Note

In many ways, I am a very lenient mom. In other ways, I am extremely strict.

Such is the case with thank you notes.

I grew up with a mom who couldn't take pen to paper to save her life and an aunt/uncle who were amazing at writing thoughtful notes for birthday and thank you alike.

Somewhere along the last 37 years, notes have become very important to me and I insist that my children express their gratitude.

Enter the Girl Scout cookie season.

My daughter is a Brownie and this is her second year selling cookies. Last year, through the help of my Rotary club and Operation Thin Mint, my daughter was the best seller in her troop, took her troop be the top 50 troop in the region, and earned a free pass to summer camp. That's over 500 boxes sold to us laypeople. That's also about 50 thank you notes . . .

She's doing well, but the parents are about driven mad with the whining and complaining. She's gotten notes and even monetary tips in response to her thank you notes, so she's getting positive feedback.

I guess life lessons come with their own challenges and I'm set on teaching her this one, but the whining . . . .

Poop

Big Dreams and Pixie Dust has been talking lately about potty training and all the poop involved. I've enjoyed the blog as it brings up distant memories of potty training my now school age children . . .

until this past weekend . . .

Recently I went into my bathroom to find an odd substance in the sink. Yes, it was poop. I then noticed a smear on the mirror. Yep, more poop. Then for some reason I picked up the rug, and guess what was underneath??? You got it - more poop!

Now, my son had nonchalantly changed from shorts to pants earlier that day and it didn't take a whole lot of figuring to realize that he was guilty.

His defense, "it came out of the toilet". I guess the toilet backed up.

But, under the rug?!?!?!?

Opposite Ends of the Spectrum

As I ponder this next job change, I catch myself wondering about trading places with my husband. I find myself pondering either working full-time as an executive in charge or staying home with the kids. It seems odd to me that I am thinking of such extremes, but if I'm going to go through a change, I want to consider the avenues.

When I think of a job change, I imagine a job that would fully support the family and that my husband would quit working. Yes, I've talked to him. Right now, he works for money and for satisfaction. But would he still work for just satisfaction or could I ever make enough to convince him that it is not for money? He admits that he doesn't want to work full-time. He also admits that if he works full-time that he'll be away from home more than me.

It made me realize that a 40 hour week for me is different than a 40 hour week for him. That I maintain work boundaries, as far as time, more than he does. I do, however, bring home the work stress more than he does, which isn't any better than working long hours in many cases.

I think I'm ready for a change, I know I can do it, and I'm beginning to realize that it can be on my terms. The real me is going to be great at this. The real me will be fulfilled. The real me will maintain boundaries. The real me will still miss some things though. I can't make every parent-teacher conference and every school play, doctor appointment, sick day at home, etc. But if I can make it possible that my husband is there, then I will have provided for my family.

Children are from Heaven

So the bad news is that I had training in Thousand Oaks and spent 7 hours in the car in just one day. I did get about 4 hours of good training out of it, but what a long day!

The good news is that I got to catch up on some books on tape. One was about self-esteem, and I'm embarrassed to say I don't remember the author. The other was "Children are from Heaven" from John Gray, the same author of "Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus".

He talks about the importance of compassion and leadership in parenting. Some of the areas he discussed that surprised me are as follows:

- Do NOT give children choices. Until about 10 or 11, children don't need choices and giving them options is actually stressful for them and erodes your power.

- Children don't need an explanation. Tell them what to do - they don't need to know why and telling them makes you weak.

I swear I've read in a thousand other places the importance of offering choices and giving kids a chance to make a decision on little things. Like giving them a choice of snack or what to wear. Gray says we should simply instruct them what to do. He cites an extreme example of the opposite of his advice - letting the child not wear a jacket to school and catching a cold. We've often strived to give choices on little things to help the kids engage and feel a sense of control, so this advice feels weird to me. Perhaps it should be "Go get dressed" not "Do you want to wear the blue sweater or green sweater?"

About the explanation, he again says that kids can't really reason until pre-teen/teen so that explanations are lost on them. This is despite the fact that the favorite word of most children is "why". I thought explanations were to help prepare them for their own decisions, but perhaps they are not equipped for that until much older.

Then again, we can give choices in other ways. Like we can take out the inappropriate clothes out of their closet before we tell them to go get dressed. Right?

Regardless of the minor points of the book on tape, children are gifts and I wholeheartedly agree that they are from heaven, so sweet and so pure.

Love 'em!