by Amy on September 02, 2010
I’ll be the first to admit (if my husband hasn’t called me out already) that I don’t edit my language as much as I should around my kids. I’m passionate and dramatic and get caught up in the emotion of the moment. Next to having an excuse to drink beer, those are some of my favorite things about being Irish.
I’m afraid my lack of a filter has resulted in my kids saying things they most definitely shouldn’t. In fact, at the innocent age of two, Big said one word so clearly, commonly and in the right context, I was able to catch it on video. You can imagine my relief when I realized the “s” word he got in trouble for saying at preschool was just “stupid”. (Which, by the way, I really don’t say, so he didn’t get that one from me.)
While all of this may make me chuckle (a lot), it doesn’t make me proud. But let’s face it. All of us use exclamations when we’re surprised, frustrated or in pain. Some people sweeten their words—they’ll say fudge or sugar. Others jazz them up and dumb them down—think sheizer and doh. But every now and then you hear an exclamation and can’t help but wonder, where’d they come up with that?
by Amy on August 30, 2010
The other day I rushed home from work after an important morning meeting. Little was feeling sick and I hated to be away. I arrived home to find him sound asleep, not missing me a bit. Big and our sitter were playing a nice, quiet game of Chutes and Ladders in our playroom (aka garage) before lunch.
As I walked in to join them, I saw laundry on the washer that needed to be done, I had work concerns racing through my head and I knew it was time to get Big (and me) fed.
But first we had to wrap up the game. I took over what ended up being the losing piece of Chutes and Ladders (really, I’m far too competitive to let anybody—even a 4-year old—win). As we played, I was amazed by how wrapped up in the moment Big was. He looked at every picture on the board and wanted to talk about it. He methodically counted each square and was genuinely thrilled or disappointed by where he landed.
I made a promise to myself to let the other things go and just be right there with him—in the moment.
by Amy on August 29, 2010
Lesson #1: Though I may have gone to the Dave Matthews Band concert to relive my college days, I was reminded that it’s just as much fun to get out and toast good friends in the now-we-have-kids days. (Even if now we have to get up around the same time we were just going to bed back then.)
Lesson #2: You don’t always appreciate a good thing (or things) until they’re gone. (In my case, Little’s ear tubes.) Then again, there are some things you appreciate more once they are gone. (In my case, Little’s latest dose of antibiotics.)
Lesson #3: Snails can live for a surprisingly long time in a toy basket.
Lesson #4: Though it may have taken a sick kid begging me to lay down with him to make it happen, I do love a good weekend nap.
Lesson #5: Whether you love ‘em (and oh how I loved the Glee, Modern Family and Mad Men winners) or hate ‘em, you’ve gotta give tonight’s Emmy Award winners credit for thanking their parents.
I hope you had a rowdy, healthy, surprising, restful, celebratory week too! If you have a story to share, please leave a comment.
Photo from Flickr by gotomattex.
by Amy on August 22, 2010
In case you can’t tell, I’m feeling a bit sentimental after a week of family parties, vacation and adventure…
Lesson #1: While cautious kids may be born (especially to cautious mothers), there’s no telling what a little encouragement from adventurous dads will get them to not only do, but enjoy.
Lesson #2: My parents and in-laws are proof that it’s not the number of candles on your cake, but the number of friends by your side that makes milestone years worthy of celebration.
Lesson #3: There’s just something about a Manhattan Beach afternoon. Even whining sounds sweeter on an ocean breeze. (Which explains how I survived working in advertising for so many years down there.)
by Amy on August 13, 2010
Another Friday, another chance to reflect. Here are a few of the lessons/reminders that have stuck with me during a fun-filled family week.
Lesson #1: Road trips are a whole different kind of adventure with kids. Especially kids who get carsick watching movies. And while sensitive little bodies don’t always allow time for discretion, it’s nice to know there’s hope of finding a clean bathroom somewhere along the way thanks to the SitOrSquat app. Which brings me to…
Lesson #2: It turns out having someone sit in your lap while going to the bathroom does eventually become normal. (Not right, but normal.)
Lesson #3: You never know who you’re going to run into along the way (especially if LA is one of your frantic stops).
by Amy on August 10, 2010
After being gone for four days, nothing could have warmed my heart more than seeing my three favorite boys standing on the airport steps waiting to take me home. Their eyes lit up, Big’s arms wrapped around me, Little’s sloppy kisses wet my face and the chatter began. They survived. (I knew they would.) And more importantly, I survived. (I didn’t know I would.)
No doubt they missed me. In fact, Big was too distraught to talk to me on the phone while I was away because it made him miss me more. Little slept much later than usual—an obvious sign of his depression (at least that’s how I’m explaining the fact that he wakes up at the crack of dawn when I’m home, but miraculously doesn’t when I’m away).
No doubt I missed them.
by Amy on August 06, 2010
Happy Friday! This post is coming to you live from NYC where I’m blogging alongside the bloggiest bunch of them all at BlogHer. (Just wondered how many times I could fit “blog” into a sentence.) No doubt I’ll be learning a lot more as the next couple days unfold, but here’s what I’ve learned so far this week:
Lesson #1: Just thinking about leaving my family to fly across the country for four days was enough to sprout gray hairs at a rate far faster than I could tweeze. (And these hotel bathroom lights are not forgiving.)
Lesson #2: This mom finally needs to enforce a privacy policy (and exercise routine). While I was getting dressed the other morning, Big walked in, dramatically wrinkled his face, covered his eyes, turned his head and shouted, “Oh yuck! C’mon!” No, I don’t always appreciate my kids’ honesty.
by Amy on August 04, 2010
About a month ago, a friend of mine asked me if I would consider writing about how to talk to kids about illness and death. She thought this wonderful community might have tips to share with her as she prepares her kids—and herself—for saying goodbye to her mom. I was honored that she’d trust me to start this conversation on such a personal topic, but also overwhelmed by what it meant: That I’d have to face the fact that I should be having some of these talks with my kids—and myself—as my dad struggles through his battle with brain cancer.
Plus what do I really know about talking to kids on these serious subjects? I recently taped a PBS/Sesame Street special about kids and grief, but could never bring myself to watch it…and the preview I caught online while writing this had me sobbing uncontrollably! And Big overheard my husband and me talking about when my grandfather died (back when I was in college) and now he randomly asks me questions about my grandfather and dying. I’m often unprepared and, no doubt, say the wrong thing. So rather than share my fears, missteps and questions (of which there are far too many to include in one post), I figured I’d turn to an expert.
