It's Official, I'm a Soccer Mom

Not only am I a soccer mom, I am the Team Mom.  Now before you judge, thinking that I run around in a minivan all day, please do not.  I run around in a truck all day; my husband drives the minivan.  I always made fun of the minivan until my friend Dana told me not to be a hater; minivans rock.  When H was born we became believers. Even the dog thinks that the minivan has super positive qualities.  He likes simply stepping up into the car instead of making a running jump (he’s getting older, poor guy).  I also made fun of the way that these soccer moms have coffee together and shop together and get their nails done together.  I am not much of a joiner.  My exercise consists of a morning run with my four legged child as a partner since he doesn’t talk or yoga by DVD, and I have never played team sports.  I do think that they are important, though.  “No man is an island” and all that. So when the opportunity to have the girl child involved in some team sports, I was in.

Some of the other moms at H’s school wanted to join a soccer league, and we thought that it would be a good way to get the girl child to exert some energy on a Saturday morning and learn to play well with others, as she struggles with that.  What I didn’t think about was that I would have to get up early, cook breakfast early, get two children dressed early, and get us all out of the house before 9:30 (thank God we didn’t sign up for the 9 am games!).  I also, innocently enough, offered to be “team mom”.  What I didn’t realize was that I would be in charge of ensuring that everyone knew about any changes, any postponements, any announcements, any anything. 

The first game, I did all of the above, threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, popped a baseball hat on my head, and off we went to our first soccer game.  I was in for quite the awakening.  Not one mom had a baseball hat on her head, and forget about any of them walking around without make-up.  Shit!  This meant that I had to shower before each game?  Cleanliness is something that I have never considered to be a virtue.  In fact, I subscribe to one of my sister’s thoughts as to cleanliness being overrated rather than a virtue.

These moms were also very well prepared for their children’s matches.  While I had a big bottle of water in the boy child’s stroller and the camera as an afterthought, these parents were equipped with camping chairs, sports drinks by the case, blankets, cameras, video cameras, and jackets with colors corresponding to their kids’ team shirts all organized neatly into a wagon.  I kept wondering what time these chicks woke up on Saturday.   I felt like I was at a college soccer game, not one for four year olds. 

Well, I quickly became one of those parents.  I shot about a hundred photos (not all of my kid, mind you), I jumped and clapped and cheered like I was at a pro-football game, and told the four year old that she was awesome, even though she was more interested in picking dandelions than actually kicking the ball.  I gave her a pep talk before the second half, and made mental notes~all I had was a water and a camera~ about what I was supposed to bring to the next game, and planning what I will do for snacks.  Even the snacks are a one-upmanship.  I'm waiting for someone to break out the hibachi at some point (what ever happened to tossing out some juice boxes and rice crsipy treats?).  I'll probably make something homemade, more for budget's sake than anything, right?

What in theory was to be a Saturday morning diversion became an epic adventure in keeping up with the Joneses.  I still don’t have coffee with the moms;  I still wear my baseball cap to the games without showering; I refuse to haul a bunch of stuff to the field in a wagon; however, I am into the game when we get there, taking lots and lots of pictures and posting them to Kodak for the other parents to see.  My question, though is, "How did I get sucked into this? When did I become 'one of those parents?'"

I'm Busting Outta Here!

On Thursday this week, my husband encouraged the boy to swing his foot up and to get himself out of the pack and play.  Mind you, that the pack and play is a holding area while husband showers and I struggle to get the girl child ready for school.  We have/had a system that worked.  Due to my husband's positive reinforcement, the plan is now defunct, where I have to come up with another one.

It's only common sense that the little man would take his new found knowledge and figure out how to get out of his crib in short order, and that is exactly what happened during nap yesterday.  I was resting with a book when I heard a loud thump, which I thought was the work of my daughter.  I went to the door and rang the doorbell so that she would think the witch was coming for her.  I did not hear any running back to the bed; in fact, all I heard was a giggle from my son's room.  I then heard a shaking of the door.  Upon investigation, I saw Houdini standing in his room just itching to run out. 

After we got everyone back down for a nap, I slept on the floor of his room to ensure no more shenanigans.  My children absolutely need naps, and it is my job to ensure that they sleep at least two hours during the day.  I need for them to take those naps, as well.  I don't know what the age of naplessness is, but I don't think that seventeen is too old for them to lie down for a couple of hours on the weekends. 

In the afternoon, we converted the crib to a daybed so that the toddler wouldn't fall on his head in the middle of the night.  I am not a fan of waking up for midnight emergencies, even head trauma.  I figured that if he can sleep on a matt at school without gettng up, then he can stay in his bed.  I was so very wrong.  According to the father, little guy woke up around four times last night.  It was not my night to get up with the little darlings, so I was unaware of the wakings.  I think that my husband would have loved for me to feel his pain, but tonight is my night, a school night.  I will feel the pain shortly, assuming Little T hasn't mastered the art of staying in bed. 

I am always pointing out my daughter's short comings, but I neglect to give her props where props are due.  She slept through the night at 8 weeks, and is still an awesome sleeper. She is a three hour nap girl when she finally drops off, and is quite compliant when it is time for bed in the evenings.  Her younger brother, however, is not as easy.  I kept them on the same militant schedule, so I'm at a loss as to what his deal is.  The girl child was also convinced that she could not get out of the daybed, either.  Little T was found in the middle of the room last night crying. 

I write this with a bitter sweet thought.  My babies are growing up, which is good and bad.  It's good because this means diapers may be a thing of the past shortly.  It's sad because we are done at two children.  No more for us.  Now I have to wait at least 20 years before I can snuggle with an infant that is directly related to my womb.  I say 20 years because if anyone shows up at my house with child, somebody's going down.

Recipe Sunday

Sausage and Spinach over Linguini

This is a Weight Watchers recipe variation that has found its way into our hearts...and tummies.  Takes literally 15 minutes to prepare, so it's awesome for busy nights. 

One Package Sweet Turkey Sausage Links, cut into thin slices
One Package Fresh Spinach
3T Pine nuts (or more)
1T Olive Oil
Red Pepper Flakes (around 1t)
Whole Wheat Linguini

Boil linguini according to directions.
While pasta cooks:
Sautee sausage links in olive oil until browned.  Add pine nuts and red pepper flakes, toasting the pine nuts.  Toss in the bagged spinach and stir until wilted.
Drain pasta, reserving 1/3 cup of the liquid.
Pour starchy water into the sausage mixture, tossing well and serve over the pasta.
Add Parmesan cheese because no pasta dish is complete without it. 

You can add mushrooms, garlic, and onions to this too, sauteeing with the sausage, but my husband is quite the purist.  I quote: "Can we please just follow the recipe as it was written?"

When we are off carbs, I use two bags of spinach for bulk.  Celiac friendly.

A Whopper with Pee

The other morning I woke up to my son’s mewling at about 6 am.  I got his milk heated up and went to his room, whereupon I was greeted with the most noxious smell ever.  I pulled my t-shirt up over my nose (sexy lingerie went by the wayside a long time ago; in fact, I think I have worn a cute nightie twice~on my honeymoon).

I pick up the sweet thing and take him to change his diaper.  What I encounter is the largest diaper in the world.  I mean, it was huge.  It was so huge that I set it aside to show it to my husband.  After we got all cleaned up and changed, I took him downstairs with said whopper. 

I then got out the old Weight Watchers scale, which I knew would come in handy one day, albeit not for this, and I weighed the thing: 16 ounces straight up.  A POUND of excrement came from my kid! Of course I post this on Facebook, and get quite a few comments.  One of which was from my cousin who wanted to know what the Tare weight of the diaper was.  I love Susan.  I’m an English teacher, so I had to look up “tare weight”, even though I was pretty sure of what it meant through context.  The diaper, unladen, is one ounce, so Little T peed and crapped fifteen ounces in a ten hour period. 

I’m impressed.  I’m dumbfounded.  How does a child excrete three percent of his body weight?  Now, I call him Little T only because his daddy is named T.  He is not a small child.  He was smaller than his sister at birth, but H was a bit of an anomaly, clocking in at nine and a half pounds. He’s a big boy.  But a pound of shit?  Really?

Recipe Sunday

Hot Chicken:

Yes, you can pick this up at the local grocery store, but there's someting about roasting my own that makes me feel just a little bit superior.

One chicken, innards removed and cavity rinsed.
Pat dry
Rub with olive oil and sprinkle with salt.
Place on a roasting rack, breast side up.
Roast at 425 for 30 minutes
Turn heat down to 350 and roast for another 30+ minutes, until the meat thermometer reads 170.

You can put potatoes and carrots and onion in the roasting pan, too.  They catch all the juices and brown up nicely.

DONE!

The 2 for 1 Deal

Little T got tubes put into his ears on Monday.  After six ear infections; twelve trips to the doctor, including dagnosis and follow-up, each with copays; and six doses of antibiotics, we finally got to see a specialist who agreed that he needed these tiny things that prevent infections that he had been getting. I did the math, and we spent over six hundred bucks before we got to get the tubes.  Now we get to pay our deductible for surgery.

I'm thinking that there should be a two for one surgery for boys and a get it while it's hot surgery for girls at birth.  For boys, put the tubes in right along with the circumcision.  I mean, they've already got a scalpel, and how much more pain can it be to poke a hole in the kid's eardrum after cutting his penis ( a whole other story about Little T and his circumcision issues.  Men, beware:  it'll make you squirm)?

And since girls aren't subjected to the "birth cutting", I'm thinking they should share in the pain, as well by having the tubes put in.  Yeah, I know we women have lots of other things that we have to deal with simply because we're women, but let's level the playing field a little bit with the surgeries.

Red Light, Green Light

While talking over coffee, a friend told me that her daughter had to go to yellow in school.  She was aghast, as her daughter had always been on green.  My daughter also has the traffic light system.  For those of you who may not be aware of the system, it goes a little something like this:

Green:  All is well, and the child had a good day.

Yellow:  A couple of re-directions, and a “Peace Time”.

Boohoo Blue:  Two “Peace Times”

Red:  More than two “Peace Times” or something egregious

It used to just be the three colors, but Boohoo Blue is new, and I believe that it was added for no other reason than my daughter.  H is…well…difficult (See “Unto Us a Felon Is Born”).  As I said, I think it was put there because of her.  They probably worried about her self-esteem and the fact that her name was on Red a lot.  Now most parents are horrified when their children are in Red; however, in our house, Red occurs so often, that we look at it as a common thing.  In fact, we consider it a pretty good week if she is on red only twice.

Now, before we get into the issues of the traffic light system, of which there are many, I have to admit that I like having consistency, and I also like to know how the kids’ days go simply by looking at the wall and finding a red, blue, yellow, or the ever elusive green sticker next to their names. I also find comfort in the fact that there are consequences at home for the respective colors.  If H is on green, she gets to watch television for thirty minutes; if she is on Yellow, then Mommy watches the news;  Boohoo Blue is her room until dinner; and Red is straight to the bedroom, out for dinner, and back to her room afterward.  We may be moving to no dinner, but I'm getting a lot of negative feedback about this idea.

Don’t judge the consequences.  If you think that I am too harsh, come and hang out with my daughter for an hour or two.  I will have your full support in less than 120 minutes, guaranteed. 

What do your kids’ schools use as behavior modification?  There has to be something out there that is foolproof, and since we’re not allowed to recommend to the school that they use corporal punishment on our kids (although I think that Red would be more rare, and green more common, but that’s just me), I want one that really works.