parenting – Page 7 – Tough Bananas

My Big Year

This is it – my year at home.

I’ve taken a leave and will be holding down the home front. Our three oldest boys are in school full time so that leaves me and Little together. This is a completely new experience for me. The last time I was home with only one son, he was a baby. All my previous years at home have involved a newborn.

Oh, I guess I should explain – Bearded Husband and I have alternated years at home caring for our family. I took the first maternity leave year, then he took an unpaid parental leave, I got pregnant and had another maternity leave, repeat. This has worked well for us, but we decided no more babies. I’ve worked two years in a row and now am home with our three-year-old.

Do you know what it’s like to go from teaching kindergarten, to a summer with four boys, and then to end up at home with a three-year-old who still naps in the afternoon? IT FEELS LIKE I’M AT A SPA.

The first day with just the two of us, we hopped in the van and took a special Mommy and Son road trip. There was no bickering, no pushing to get in first (well, I might have elbowed him a bit), no one complaining that “he’s looking at me”. As we coasted down the street I rolled down my window, waved at a neighbour and sang out, “we’re going to Target – because I CAN.”

Freedom, glorious freedom.

We purchased the five items on our list, plus eleven things I didn’t realize I needed. We drove home chatting and listening to the radio. I think he even thanked me for the adventure.

Do you know what else you can do when you’re home full time? Reheat your coffee in your own microwave. What a luxury.

Another unexpected bonus to being with Little is learning that he stashes small toys down the furnace grate when he doesn’t want to share. So thoughtful.

Yeah, I put it down there, what's the problem? — Yeah, I put it down there, what’s the problem?

You haven’t lived until you’ve tried to fish some Lego hair out of a furnace duct. It is perhaps the scariest thing I’ve had to do – keep in mind that I once rescued a keychain from the toilet.

I’m not entirely sure what this year at home will look like, but I have plans, big plans. In addition to projects around the home and spending time with Little, I’m planning to connect with all my sons in a different way, be more hands-on and knowledgeable about their daily adventures than when I worked full time. I’m also hoping to invest more in friendships (old and new) and to give back to our community more.

Yes, big plans. They may seem lofty, but it’s only begun and already I’m ticking things off my list. Why just this week I learned that a girl has a crush on our oldest. And he is just thrilled that I have that intel. I can tell.

The year of At-Home Jan. Get ready.

My Five Rules for the Leisure Pool

On a warm August morning what is a mom of four young boys to do while her husband and father of her offspring is getting ready for the new school year?

The park? Went to four of them last week.

The library? Did that yesterday.

The toy store? Did that the day before yesterday.

Why not try the local indoor pool? It’s FREE admission.

“But we have our own pool” is clearly not a valid argument when the pull of going somewhere new and adventurous is strong. So off we went and now I share with you…

My Five Rules for the Leisure Pool

Come on in, the water's fine. — Come on in, the water’s fine.

1. Apparently, elderly swimming patrons do not appreciate loud references to “Cocoon”. Think it, don’t say it.

2. Don’t wear a bikini to the family swim, no need to rub in to the rest of us. Yay you for bouncing back into your pre-baby shape. I hope you slip on the deck.

3. Avoid playing “Pretend To Drown”. Ditto for “Dead in the Water”. Best not to let your kids play it either.

4. It might be called a “leisure” pool, but bringing your own margarita is frowned upon.

5. If you discover hair floating near your person, stay calm. It’s just hair. It might not be your hair, but you’ll be okay.

How about you? Any tips for swimming with strangers?

Always Talk to Strangers

We just stopped to watch the tree trimmers.

He was so high up that you can’t even see him against the backdrop of the sun, but he was there, making my stomach flip.

A random stop in a random neighbourhood because we spotted an arborist trimming a tree at an amazing height (I would have stopped even if didn’t have a van full of boys, you don’t see that every day). The tree trimmer had a chainsaw dangling from a rope, engine running, and he’d swing it up to himself as needed – it was spectacular.

As we gazed up at this wondrous balancing act, an elderly lady emerged from her home and approached us.

“Good morning! Would you like some greens? I’m going away for 2 weeks and I know Alex is gone, would you eat them?”

Which just goes to show you, when Alex is out of town – greens for everyone!

No, no, no. Which just goes to show you, he who gawks get greens.

Wait, no. Always stare at strangers.

I’m sure there’s a wise truth in this story somewhere – thoughts?

Oreo Flowchart

The Van of Enlightenment

It’s taken me just under ten years but I have figured it out.

Cracked the code.

Uncovered the secret.

Distilled the formula.

Want to know what your son is thinking? Interested in his school life? Curious about his peer dynamics? Or just wondering what he really thinks about that girl Paige in his class? (she’s the worst, by the way).

Here’s the answer. And it’s foolproof.

Drive the van.

That’s it.

Load up the van with him and a bunch of his friends and drive them somewhere. The destination doesn’t matter, but try for something fifteen minutes away, minimum.

And drive. Just drive. Don’t pepper them with questions, don’t insert yourself into the conversation and do not make eye contact. Pretend you are on a safari observing animals in their natural habitat (but don’t take notes, because they will see that and wonder why you pulled over. Same goes for whispering recordings into your phone).

The information you will gather by listening in (it’s not eavesdropping if they forget you can hear them) is astounding. Here’s a recent sampling, in case you doubt my methods:

Josh thinks he’s so great at soccer, but really, he isn’t.

Someone needs to tell Julia to settle down – everyone knows she’s loud just to get attention.

Adam claims he got to level K in math drills, but he totally didn’t. Liar.

Ryan is so mean that they’d like to take a power washer to him and wouldn’t even feel bad about it.

There are also some epiphanies which give you a peek into alternative parenting choices. For instance, one boy piped up with incredulity, “Wait, you can ride your bike on the street? Such freedom.”

You might be tempted to jump in and ask some follow up questions, but play it cool. Stay in the shadows. That time will come later.

It can be challenging to listen and not reply, but it’s worth it. You might want to chime in that maybe Julia feels insecure and is looking for a safe circle to be herself. Squash the urge to point out that maybe life is hard for Ryan and that’s why he acts out. Perhaps Josh doesn’t feel good about himself so he shows off the skill he is most proud of.

There will be opportunities for those conversations, but for now, just listen.

Drive the van.

Mom’s McSpiral

It’s date night with one of my favourite little people. Despite my attempts to go to anywhere else, that mini-human is sure to chose the Golden Arches. And thus begins the strategic planning to eat healthy despite being in this fast-food nexus.

Tastes like happy, but wit an aftertaste of regret. — Tastes like happy, but with an aftertaste of regret.

Okay, I’ll go there, but I’m going to eat a quick snack beforehand so I’m not ravenous and succumb to temptation.

No time. No problem. I’ll just get water and a salad.

Well, maybe not a salad. A wrap – yes, a veggie wrap. That’s a good choice.

A veggie wrap is almost like eating negative calories, so I’ll get a small pop instead of water. Wouldn’t want to seem too self-righteous to my dear, sweet french fry-eating child.

Mmmm. French fries. No.

Since I’m not ordering fries, I’ll get the chicken wrap. That extra protein will satisfy any cravings I might encounter.

A chicken wrap, easy on the dressing. They custom order, right?

I wouldn’t want to seem too choosey, so I’ll take it the way they prepare it.

Seems a shame to get the grilled chicken. I’ll get the crispy. All those veggies still make it healthy. Mostly.

A chicken wrap, small pop. That’s it.

Those fries just came out of the fryer. So hot and fresh.

No. I’ll just snag a few when the little guy isn’t looking.

He'll know. He always knows. — He’ll know. He always knows.

He’s always looking. I think he counts the total before he starts eating.

I’ll get my own, to keep the peace. But just a small.

A chicken wrap, pop, and fries.

How much is that chicken wrap?

A cheeseburger is pretty low-cost. We do live on a budget. I’ll just get that. It’s for the children.

Saving some serious money not getting that over-priced chicken wrap. I think I can get the medium fries.

Yes, I’m ready to order: cheeseburger, medium fries, and a small pop, please.

Wait, it’s the same price for a larger drink? Well, then it seems wasteful not to upsize.

How am I paying?

With my dignity, thanks.

My Five Rules for Bedtime

Bedtime, right?

When our oldest was a baby I had visions of cuddly story time, quiet chats as we put our little guy to bed, maybe even some insightful conversations about his day.

No.

Is that happiness I hear? — Do I hear happiness in here?

There are moments of sweetness, of course. Who doesn’t enjoy being asked, “why are your arms so squishy?” or “can you leave now?” or “Are you going out? You’re not wearing yoga pants so you must be going out?” It’s just like I always pictured.

Trying to get four energetic boys ready for bed is how I burn off all the Oreos I eat. Even if I pace it out and try man-to-man versus a zone approach I still end up looking like Miss Hannigan.

And so, I present to you My Five Rules for Bedtime.

1. Leave Mommy’s shoes alone. I don’t mind if you try them on, but not when you should be brushing your teeth and definitely not when that’s all you’re wearing.

He is surprising agile in those — He can strut around in those better than I can. So proud.

2. Don’t eat the toothpaste. If you stumble upon a dried up, clumpy mound of white pasty goodness, leave it alone or toss it in the garbage, but please do not eat it. Or if you can’t resist, wait until I leave the room.

3. Farting during the bible story. No. Ditto for prayers.

4. No naked running. No naked hurdles. No naked dancing. No naked — look, just put some clothes on.

5. One brother on the toilet at a time.

——–

Your turn – bedtime rules you have or wish you’d had – go.

The Super Effect

Mommy, I have a snack?

No, Little, it’s almost dinner.

But I SUPER hungry.

——-

Daddy, I have a popsicle?

They’re for after dinner.

But I SUPER want it now.

——-

I have a drink?

No, Little, it’s bedtime.

But I SUPER thirsty.

——-

I SUPER want a piggyback ride.

——-

I SUPER want to play the piano

It’s not your turn, buddy.

——-

I play on your iPhone?

No.

But I SUPER want to.

——

You take my shoes off, Mommy?

You can do it yourself.

But I SUPER not do it.

——-

I be excused?

You’re not done your food.

But I SUPER done eating.

——

I’m just going to start using this strategy, too. Sorry, I’m not doing yard duty, I SUPER don’t want to.

Nope, I SUPER hate cleaning toilets.

I’m just going to stay in bed, guys, because I SUPER love sleeping.

——–

What do you feel SUPER passionate about (or SUPER want to avoid)?

Pure Wander: “It’s the Journey”

Pure Wander is a site for families who like to travel – near and far. You can find me over there today guest posting. We might not travel far (yet) but it’s always an adventure with our crew of six Moyers.

Check out the great travel tips and destinations.

Nope, I Just Dancing

Into the van, boys. We are going to Target!

Little, do you need to pee first?

No, I just dancing to music. It’s in my head.

Really?

Yeah, I dance. See?

Never trust a preschooler with a reputation for peeing his pants. Even if he did use the facilities only ten minutes earlier. Against my better judgement, I didn’t force the issue and we took off to Mom Mecca: Target.

As we pulled into the parking lot, Little says in a tiny voice, “I wet.”

"I no pee, I just dancing to da music."

Liar.

— Jan Moyer (@moyermama) May 14, 2014

So many feelings! I was irritated that he peed his pants when he is capable of staying dry. I was peeved at myself for being irritated because I don’t tend to get upset with toilet training mishaps. I felt bad for his older brother who had brought his Lightning McQueen, velcro-closure wallet with him to buy a toy.

After checking the diaper bag and discovering no spare clothes (now I had to add Bearded Husband to my list of irritants) I had a plan of action.

Well, we’re going to buy you a pair shorts and you’ll wear those. AND YOU WILL LIKE THEM.

Now it was time for the big brother to jump into older and wiser sibling mode:

Little, you are going to have to wear whatever we buy, that’s what happens when you pee your pants.

Now, Little, when you pee your pants, Mommy isn’t angry, but you won’t be getting a toy.

Little, I will get a toy because she didn’t have to spend money buying me new shorts because my shorts are dry. I never pee myself.

You know, you peed your pants.

Our shopping trip was mostly uneventful after that. The boys got into a slight altercation in the sock aisle, but it was nothing a threat issued through clenched teeth couldn’t diffuse.

We chatted and giggled while we finished up our shopping. As we wheeled towards the till, my youngest piped up:

Mommy? I get a toy?

No, Little, I spent that money on new shorts since you peed your pants.

I so sorry. Please? You buy me a toy? I not always pee my pants anymore.

It might take me a while and several seasons of preschool life, but eventually I learn: Never trust an almost 3-year-old. Especially one who has perfected using his cuteness for evil.

Don’t feel bad for him, though. He did get to ride home in a “big boy booster” instead of his car seat. Oh, that’s because – wait, did I mention this already? He peed his pants.

———

Unfortunate shopping experience? Share. Bodily functions involved? Even better.