Christmas is in the Air

Am I the only one who feels depleted when I see a pile of airless sacks of Christmas decor on front lawns? You know, the Santa Claus that quite literally gets the wind knocked out of him everyday for a month. When I drive by a house with these shapeless heaps scattered here and there, the only word that comes to mind is massacre (and I hope there were witnesses). But I'm a purist when it comes to holiday decorating. I want my house to look like a home may have looked a hundred years ago with a simple evergreen wreath, and a single candle lighting each window. Merry Christmas to my 2 fans - Jim H. and Diane M.

Over-Achiever?

You know you're determined not to bite off more than you can chew when your To Do list contains only 4 items and one of them is "dinner". Seriously, can I be more of a slacker? If I'm so concerned that I'll forget to make dinner for four other people living at the same address, I must be in a pretty thick fog. Could I actually make it to bedtime without making dinner for my family, all-the-while ignoring the bitching and moaning from the wee ones (whose stomachs, by the way, can't be very big to begin with)? As for my husband, he starts texting me questions about the dinner menu before lunchtime. But I have heard that listing things that are realistic and within reach and crossing them off when they're completed is a valid approach to tackling a To Do list.

Bath Time

Ever since I became a mother, one of the most idyllic motherhood scenes has eluded me. The art of bathing a child before bedtime and the relaxing lightness of play that accompany it has always been something of my white whale. Whenever I have taken to the routine, I have felt harangued by resistance. Instead of thinking of bath time as a spa-like respite, my kids always see it as a disruptive break in play. Washing and rinsing their hair is like torture for all parties, even when wintertime brings ladybugs to roost on the ceiling for something new to focus on. Whether the shampoo is tears free or not, tears invariably fall. Despite my warnings, the floor always gets overly wet along with whatever I'm wearing making me cold in the winter and merely annoyed in summer. As time has passed, I've wondered why I've never been able to take on this most basic life activity with more grace. But before I get too hard on myself, I think of the hundreds of other things I do well as a parent. And if my kids don't naturally gravitate to the pursuit of pampering - well, it isn't necessarily a bad thing, is it?

First-Day Euphoria

Well, only half-way through the first day of school and I'm already relishing that good-time euphoric feeling. Like me, I bet you did a decent job of keeping the get-ready-for-another-school-year stress at bay during the last few days of summertime, but really we just wanted to pull the trigger and get into it again. Looming so near in the future leads to a sort of we might as well be back default setting. For me, I questioned whether I could really get up at 6:30 am, feed three kids, and pack 3 lunch sacks meanwhile giving the new pup enough exercise to hop back into her crate until lunchtime. Well I'm happy to say, I pulled it off and it feels good. It sure helps that we landed one of the most picture-perfect days in terms of sunshine and temperature in recent memory. And frankly, it doesn't matter a lick how I do the rest of the year. The first day is nearly over and the school hasn't called. My wee kindergartner is safely off the bus and all smiles. Dinner is being made as I type. Life is good.

Does Anybody Remember Laughter

Exasperation seems to be the name of the game when you're a parent. For instance, my youngest was pushing buttons the other night (can you guess whose buttons?). Anyway, we were having dinner in the kitchen while my five year-old was besting her latest impression of a brat when I finally charged in with what I thought was a deflection, "If you insist on going down this road...". Her interruptive delivery was comedic genius as she blocked with, "what road?" Disarmed as I was, I found plenty of energy for laughter as did the whole family. I could write a book with her one-liners.

Canine Babies vs. Human Babies

I honestly don't know which poses a bigger personal challenge right now - puppy or human training. Of course, we've already realized many immediate benefits upon bringing our new puppy home. A pup already knows how to walk, talk and eat by itself. There are no diapers and no nursing (ouch - that would hurt). We've managed to keep soiling in the house at bay quite easily, and there isn't a whole lot of crying. Getting Ella to sleep through the night took less than a week. Sounds ideal, really.

But that whole biting stage can hurl things into a twister pretty quickly. Coming up on three weeks in our home and our soft, sweet canine is still biting the hands that feed her. All members of the family are sporting fresh puncture wounds each day and at least two of the three kids have taken to screaming and running away from Ella whenever she looks askance. My husband and I have flipped through a dozen dog training books trying to get a handle on the right approach. Just bought the bitter spray today - we'll give that a whirl. I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, email me if you have any skin-saving techniques for us to try.

Playing to an Audience

It occurs to me when I think about what to write next, and how I relate to my job as mother, that the easiest part of my job is behind me. In fact, I laugh when I remember my pregnant self and the trepidation I felt waiting to actually begin parenting. Looking back at my early foibles and missteps which sometimes overshadowed the sleep-deprived noose of caring for infants and toddlers, I have the gift of hindsight. I could have done anything with or to my very young children, and the generic responses were few - a scream or a good-old, gut-wrenching cry. I think back to diaper blowouts at the mall, and I remember times when I forced red and rigid screamers into car seats, or took away sippy cups cold-turkey. For the most part, these moments were performed without audience. As my children have grown older, exercising their ability to articulate thought with meaningful words, they wield feedback I would shun from the most tyrannical boss. Kids become an audience of critics and hecklers that grows stronger with every birthday.