Thoughts on playing

(I can't believe I have not posted since Mother's day). I find that I post more often when I am trying to procrastinate work. Having the older boys home also gives me less time to write. Everything feels like a chore with all four of the boys home. Doing errands is a complete joke.

I have been worrying recently that I don't do enough fun things with the boys. It feels like I am always asking them to clean or just plain listen. I worry that I am not helping to create enough fun experiences. That we are not making enough memories. I get so caught up in everything that I am trying to get done that I rarely do anything meaningful with the boys. I rarely make the time to play on their level.

I don't really remember my parents playing with me. I remember them reading to me. Talking with me listening to me. I remember them making time for me. Driving me every where. Being a part of my life and letting me be a part of their lives. I remember vacations. I don't know that I remember allot of "play". I played with my brother's all the time. I don't remember playing with my parents.

As a kid I always admired the families that played together. The families that may have had less than my family but made each day their own. Made each day special and unique. Darin plays with the boys. I find it hard to play and create real learning opportunities. This is sort of a stupid thing to worry about. Sometimes I worry that their memories of me as adults will be of a mom who was always nagging always trying to get them to do something.

Being a parent is so much harder than I would have ever guessed.I never thought that being a parent would be an Easy thing. I guess I though that there would be hard moments, hard periods, hard days. I didn't realize that those moments would happen so often. As a teacher it is easy to judge peoples parenting styles and to judge their children's behavior. It sorta comes with the job. But being a parent is much harder than it looks and so much harder than being a teacher. At least for me.

I guess my main concern is that my children will not have strong memories to build on when they have their own families. That they will only hold on to the negative memories and not remember the positive. That I don't spend enough time making memories with them that will last. It probably sounds dumb. It feels like there is so little time in the day and they are growing so fast.

I know that it is just a matter of prioritising my life to take the time to make each day my own. I guess I worry about this in all my relationships. That I don't give enough of myself. That I don't give enough time to make the lasting memories. I know I don't give Darin the time that he deserves.

What do we really remember? What determines what we remember? It is so unique for everyone. Can I control what my children remember? Can I sensor there experiences. I guess it would be very naive to assume that I could. I guess the best I can do is help them to create more meaningful memories. Then hopefully the good will out way the bad. I am doing so much and have myself spread so thin that I worry that if I give more of myself I will fall apart. Crazy Huh!

Thoughts on Mothers for Mother's Day

Many of you have probably read this little poem. It travels around the internet this time of year. I thought it was fitting and made small alterations.

Mothers:

This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Pepperoni Pizza and cherry Kool-Aid saying 'It's okay honey, Mommy's here.'
And all the mothers who still rub their teenagers backs while they are getting sick.

Those who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.

This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses, diapers in their purse and binkies in their coat pockets.

For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.

This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.

This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.

And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers (sometimes in the cold rain) at baseball,soccer, football, and hockey games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars. So that when their kids asked, 'Did you see me, mom?' they could say, 'Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world,' and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand)mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.

This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.

For all the mothers who read 'Goodnight, Moon', or Curious George (46 pages) twice a night for a year. And then read it again, 'Just one more time.'

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls 'Mom?'in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college -- or have their own families.

This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches (been there done that) , assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.

This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them. For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting.

For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache she feels when she watches her son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?

The jolt that takes her from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put her hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when she just wants to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in her home? Or the mother who gets to tired from waiting all night and falls asleep in there child's bed.

Or the need to flee from wherever she is and hug her child when she hears news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation... And for mature mothers learning to let go.

For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.

Single mothers and married mothers.

Mothers with money, mothers without.

This is for you all. For all of us...

Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them. And pray and never stop being a mother... For all the mothers in your life. 'Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall.'

Thoughts on Guy Movies

Really what is up with the whole men's action genre? I just don't get the average guy flick. Really what is the purpose of badly written action plots that lack characters, story development and comprehensible plot. I am currently watching clear and present danger. Now don't get me wrong I have nothing against Tom Clancy or Harrison Ford but why? This movie is actually good compared to most of the other films in this genre. Yet I am still sitting here and wondering why. Really action films have come a long way since Rambo but they still leave me asking why.
Here is a list of five of my least favorite action films of all time. Judge Dread, Demolition Man, Tango and Cash, The Rambo's, under siege and any Jean-ClaudeVan Damme or Steven Seagal movies. I couldn't really narrow it down there are so many crappy movies out there. I know I am forgetting some of my favorite crappy guy movies. I also don't understand the perfect storm.

Thoughts on Being Sick

I hate being sick! I doubt that anyone really likes being sick although an occasional "sick" day is nice. I am tired of being sick. This flu season our family has had our share of the flu and then some. I got a bad respiratory infection and spent most of the winter on antibiotics. Now my lungs seemed to be weaker than usual. Everything that I have caught since January seems to go straight to my lungs. Everyone else in the house is also coughing. I went to the doctor and she said I just needed to wait it out. I am really looking forward to being able to breath normally again sometime soon. Hopefully sooner than later.

Thoughts on Children, Life and the Pursuit of Happiness

I am embarrassed to say that I have been a little to interested in the Polygamy Child protective case in Texas. I am almost drawn to it. Desperate to understand their lives. Haunted by the fact that my life could easily by like theirs if my ancestors who practiced plural marriage had chosen to continue being polygamous. Why did the ancestors of these FLDS polygamist choose to continue practicing polygamy? Why did they choose to create there own religion? Obviously they thought that everyone else was wrong. The obvious answer doesn't seem like enough to me.
I have bin unable to pin point my obsession with this subject, but I think it is voiced in this article from The Salt Lake Tribune. In the article Peggy Fletcher Stack, writes: "Mormons, especially those with polygamist ancestors, feel conflicted as they watch Texas authorities separate FLDS families on the basis of alleged abuse. They don't support the practice of polygamy today, yet these Latter-day Saints see the faces of their great-grandparents in the FLDS women and children. They hear echoes of 19th-century salacious - and false - rumors about their Mormon forefathers. And they worry about government officials having power to decide what's best for children."
I think my curiosity slash obsession with this subject and the images of polygamous families comes down to this. I see my mother and her grandmother's as I look at images of polygamous families. Both of my mothers grandmothers grew up in families that practiced plural marriage at the turn of the century. I see something in there faces something in there eyes that draws me in. The curiosity is not entirely new. I had watched specials on polygamy and read about the FLDS online for years (out of some kind of morbid curiosity). Always haunted by the little part of myself that I saw in them.
I don't support polygamy and have never considered what I would really do in the situation that they face. I am totally against sexual, physical or psychological abuse of anyone. I feel like the free agency of the women and children in this community has been restricted. That the restriction of free agency and civil liberties is wrong. And yet taking all the children away from these families seems more wrong. Another less sympathetic part of me thinks that they had it coming! When the church stopped practicing plural marriage in the 1890 the prophet warned that if people continued to practice polygamy the men would end up in jail, there families would be separated, that the government would confiscate their land and temples. That seems to be what is happening now. To these people. I read in an article somewhere, that men stood out side the FLDS temple in Texas and cried as the police broke down the doors of their temple with battering rams. I can not even imagine. Why even have laws that protect our civil liberties if police can brake down the doors of a building of worship and search it. I am not sure where I stand. Abuse if there is any needs to stop. Young Adults should live in the real world for a year or two and then make a decision about if the polygamous life is what they want. People under the age of 18 should not get married at all! No one should be aloud to marry some one old enough to be there father in any society. But is taking away all their children and putting them in foster care facilities the answer. Darin does not understand my obsession at all. He thinks I'm a nut case.

Thoughts on Friends and Casual Friends

Since this blog is for me to share my thoughts and discussions with myself. I thought I would actually share some of my inner dialogue. Inner dialogue you say, yes I have it not all the time but occasionally.
After getting my hair cut I went to the store to get essential short hair stuff. I was looking at a shelf or curling irons. And saw a curling iron with bristles sticking out like a round brush for curling your hair under. I looked at it and thought that is exactly what I need and then I remembered a comment Leslie made on this blog a few weeks back about an unfortunate experience I had with a bristlely curling iron in high school that got caught in my hair and had to be removed with fingernail clippers and a screw driver. I had completely forgot this ever happened until Leslie mentioned it as a response to a post. How do you forget getting a curling iron caught in your hair for two and a half hours! I am really not sure, but I did. As a was making Bacardi virgin strawberry daiquiri mix yesterday I was again reminded of Leslie. She introduced me to virgin strawberry daiquiris.
Then I started to think of how odd it is that we have some friends that we have forever and some friends that are just casual friends that really never make it to the friend- friend (or true friends) stage. I feel like most of my friends now are in the casual friends category. Although I have several people that are part of this casual friends category some of them know more things about me that my friends do. Is this weird? They know odd things that you might share at bridal showers or as part of party games. Is it odd that I would share things with casual friends that I have not shared with my friend- friends. Does this make me a bad friend? I hope not! I think it has to do with context. I don't usually call by buds and say, I had the most embarrassing experience! But these things come up in social situations. My core group of friends or friend - friends is made up of a few cousins, friends from high school, friends from college, sister in laws, my first teaching jobs, joy school and Eryn one of my current links to sanity.
I have decided to share some of my embarrassing experiences on the blog to help let go of this guilt. THIS is my most embarrassing experience of ALL time: (now I feel ok sharing this because I know that the only people that read this at all are my friend- friends)
Here goes... Lets set the stage properly. It is my wedding day! Well my wedding night to be more specific. We get to our room where we will be staying the night and Darin goes off to the restroom while I changed into something more comfortable. As I waited for Darin to come out I tried to get into a sexy position on the bed. Feeling pretty silly and a little uncomfortable I tried to get into a comfortable position. As Darin stepped out of the bathroom. I fell off the bed landing on my head rolled over and ended up sprawled at his feet spread eagle. Very unlady like. I was mortified. Darin was a complete gentleman. He picked me up and put me on the bed made sure I was ok. Then he said, he needed to get something from the car. I found him ten minutes later sitting outside our room laughing hysterically. For ten years or so anytime I tried to wear anything suggestive Darin would burst into hysteric laughter. So there it is out there. When my mom heard this story a few years ago at a bridal shower she could not stop laughing. She called her sisters to share the story she thought it was so hilarious. I think she even called my brothers. So embarrassing!

Thoughts on Momnesia & Cloning

I am not sure if anyone else out there has this problem. My children look alike. I think they might really be clones with slight genetic variation. Although I can attest that they are not clones, because I remember being at each of there births very distinctly. My children especially look alike as babies. I was looking at some baby pictures of my children recently and had to ask which child was in the picture because I was not sure. Ben is the only one that looked a little different as a baby. I really can't remember what he looked like as a baby at all (other than he was and is beautiful). I was looking at a picture of a baby at my in laws house a while back and asked who it was? I mentioned that Ben had an outfit exactly like the baby in the picture as a baby. My mother in law looked at me for a minute and then said, Meaghan that is Ben. Oh! At a baseball game this week when I glanced on the field to try and figure out where my kids were playing. I looked up and thought I saw Ben playing one first base. It took me a whole inning to figure out that I was actually looking at Nate and that Ben was in the outfield. Oy! If you are thinking that I might be having problems with my eyes and that I should go to an optometrist. My eyes are fine. My children just look very similar. I am not sure how people with triplets do it. I think it might be momnesia. Momnesia is believed to occur in mothers shortly after childbirth and it causes mental fuzziness and memory loss. USA Today reported on the condition on March 4, 2008. Researchers are unable to explain the way that motherhood affects a woman's memory but they are in agreement that a pattern is evident. Research has also shown that although fathers don't undergo the same severe changes that women do however they do experience a slight change in hormone levels. I am a big fan of momnesia and believe in it completely. Darin says it is a bunch of malarkey and I need to stop making excuses for being forgetful and unobservant.