The Parents Reading List

Way back when...when I was pregnant with Greyson I bought all kinds of parenting books. I did not yet have to spend my money on things like diapers, 5 gallons of milk a week, and clothes they would stain the first time wearing. So there was a lot more flexible money and a whooooooolllllle lot of ideas about what kind of Mom I was going to be. Since it was my first pregnancy I didn’t know I was hormonally insane and wasn’t filtering my thoughts and asking “hmmmm…is this a rational way of thinking?” *

Around the beginning of my 3^rd trimester I realized I couldn’t remember the words to any kids songs. What if sweet baby wakes up at night and needs a soothing lullaby to go back to dreamy la la land? I DON’T KNOW ANY. Actually, I don’t know ANYTHING about being a parent. Enter Amazon and daily visits by the UPS man. Place satisfied grin on smug expecting mama's face...I am going to be AWESOME.

Four years later, I have all of these parenting books somewhere in the basement. I can't get rid of them at a garage sale. What if someone asks me what they are about?! There were some that I did read and found really interesting, okay I read parts of them--I've been a little busy growing my organic vegetable gardening and spinning my own cotton thread for crocheting stuffed animals to stimulate creative play. 

For the most part, all I've learned is that parenting books are ridiculous. I don’t know who these people are but I am sure I would NOT be friends with them, (or probably more accurately they would not be friends with me..."I'm sorry, I am all out of soy. Would you like kaluha in your coffee?")

“Top 100 Baby Puree’s” I actually asked for this book as a Christmas gift before Greyson was born. I had great ideals about cloth diapers, making my own baby food, and being a "Crunchy"** mom. You know what was crunchy? My Hair. G had colic and constantly threw up. In my defense, I DO make my own baby food. It goes something like this. Step 1: Open can of fruit or veggie. Step 2: Put in food processor. Step 3: Add water and powder formula. Step 4: Turn button on process until it is done or until you remember that it is on and get back to it. 

“The Sleep Solution.”  How to get your baby to sleep soundly through the night? According to the book, you develop a night time routine and teach your kid to soothe themselves. Okay routine…everyone in the tub, stop drinking the bath water, don’t eat the soap. Kids out of the tub, run wildly through the house (for kids, parents please refrain from doing so until 9p) while trying to get a diaper on a moving target. Announce 20 minutes until bed time. Put children in bed 2 minutes after announcement, they don’t understand time and you are at risk for losing your mind if you have to deal with them using the house as a race track for 18 minutes. Good night dear children, I love you, sleep well. No you may not a have a drink. No you already went to the bathroom. No you can not have another book. I SAID. I LOVE YOU. AND GOOD NIGHT. NOW I AM NOT SAYING IT AGAIN. GO. TO. SLEEP. 

“Parenting Beyond Belief.” Bo and I have very differing religious beliefs. I bought this book so that I could learn how to teach my children about faith, religion and God but be respectful of Bo’s beliefs as well. The first story was a mom whose father had recently passed away. She told her 7 year old daughter that her grandfather was in the ground decomposing. What the...?!***

Um yeahhhh. 

Let’s see, I can tell them that thunder is the angels bowling or I could say “the electrodynamic effects of the massive current acting on the plasma in the bolt of lightning.” Bo can figure out what he wants to say on his own, I’m sticking with the whole bowling concept. 

“Siblings without Rivalry.” I’ve never even cracked this book open. I am going to write my own book. It is going to be called “How to use your kids against one another to get them to pick up their stuff.” Too harsh? Okay how about, “Keeping things fair. I will give you an M&M to use as an example of the reward system while giving the parent stare to other misbehaving child.” 

“The Busy Toddler Handbook.” I bought this one when I first lost my job and started staying home with the kids full time. Let me save you the $11. If you are interested in this book than it indicates that you do, or will, have a toddler. I hope sometime around the point where all of the kids are in school full time I find the opportunity to read this. Glancing through it looks like it is full of great ideas…like fill several pans with a different textured element, such as rice, sand, and water and let your children explore how it moves through their hands. 

Yes that is a WONDERFUL idea. As if your dear little ones did not already turn your house into total chaos, please give them free reign to poor things into every bitty crevice of your house. Please see above referenced book to prevent children from flinging textured elements into each others faces. If that doesn't work, see book below.

“1, 2, 3, Magic!” Yet another that I have not read, but I think the title kinds of gives it away. Please let me put this in terms of how “real” parents use this method. 

“Dear child who I love oh so much, Stop. Licking. The Freak.Ing. Ketchup. Offthetopofthebottle. NOW.

I am going to count to three.  One. (Oh wait, I forgot to put the whole threat part in it.) Stop licking the ketchup orrrrrr you will have to go to time out and I may start blogging and forget that you are there. One, two I mean it. Do you want to go to time-out? Fine. Three.”

You can determine what kind of day you are going to have by how many numbers you have to count. It is it’s own good-behavior metric system. 

• Issue threat and child retreats. Good day
• Count to 1 and your child runs away to engage in another activity. You are an AWESOME parent. Start giving other parents pointers on how to make their children behave. I am sure you're child will have the same reaction to this method every time, ESPECIALLY when in public or at your in-laws house.
• Count to 2 and give evil stare. You got it going on!! Rocking parent. You may also give pointers to other parents on the exempliary behavior modification method you practice. Please insert long sighhhh to indicate how difficult it was to get your child to listen. You are not on a pedestal here, you worked hard to be an ideal parent. You counted to two AND maintained mean face.
• You’ve counted to 3, gave second evil stare and are now dragging kicking and screaming child to time-out spot. Check liquor cabinet to determine if there is an appropriate level of “post kid bedtime” adult medication.
• You’ve counted to 3, gave second evil stare, dragged child to time out. Threatened child to stay in time out. Told them to get back to time out, or you are going to count to three again. 1, 2…oh screw it. Go see if Oprah is on. 

*Dear Readers, please ignore any follow up comments posted by dear husband. He doesn't remember it correctly. I was a peach while carrying our beloved children.

**"Hippie-esque; ALL-NATURAL. Refers to the crunch of granola, which (as goes the stereotype) hippie-esque people are likely to eat. Translating to parenting, it is breastfeeding (all natural), organic homemade baby food (all natural), cloth diapering (better for the environment), etc..."

***What the...? Has become my new favorite "swear" word. You can creatively insert that matches your level of intended offensiveness. Of course mine mind is thinking "What the...golly be! Could it really be? Gosh almighty,what the bee's knee's was I thinking?"

Things I Think I Should Add To My Resume

As the job search continues, I've wondered how to fully capture some of the activities I have recently engaged in...

• Advanced the understanding of key principles including, but not limited to, colors, numbers, songs, and manners.
• Created and executed reward system consisting of candy coated chocolate discs (M&M) to facilitate appropriate behaviors.
• Developed guidelines and provided structure for day to day actions.
• Critiqued, role modeled and reprimanded as necessary to maintain order and prevent overthrow of governing body.
• Excelled in budgeting time to meet all necessary deadlines including breakfast, morning snack, lunch, nap, afternoon snack, dinner and bath.
• Fully utilized materials on hand, fitted sheet and kitchen table, to build play structure.
• Captured attention of individuals under 3ft tall for up to 4 minutes at a time.
• Championed efforts to encourage individuals to utilize appropriate locations for urinary and bowel movements.
• Clarified understanding of world concepts, social etiquette and hierarchy principles.
• Minimized questions through consistency in concrete answers, primarily applying the phrase “Because I said so.”
• Served as project leader for arts and crafts activities.
• Computed regular facebook updates central to communication with external sources.
• Led measures to streamline nap/bedtime process and eliminate any areas of procrastination.
• Discovered  numerous ways to utilize paper towel and toilet paper rolls.
• Devised creative phrasing and actions to deter “meltdown city.”
• Actively engaged in conflict resolution and negotiation.
• Documented growth and progress through various mediums including print, electronic, video and photography.
• Elicited truthful responses to further understand vague situations including who hit who first.
• Familiarized self with animated characters names, role, interests and other key elements.
• Incorporated musical elements into mundane activities including clean-up, potty, eating and “I love you. Now go to sleep and I am not saying it again.”
• Inspired imagination and use of kitchen utensils, various box sizes, and costume to further creative play.

The Morning's Highlights

1. A WWF challenge occurred on my lap regarding who got to sit there and who got the crummy seat of sitting next to me. I got up and moved twice. The wrestling team followed me. Fortunately there are no folding chairs in near site.
2. The kids have learned to make fart noises by sticking out their tongues and ppppppllllllllttttttt, therefore flinging spit all over one another.
3. G is on underwear #4 for the morning and has been threatened that if he pee-pee’s somewhere other than the potty one more time he will have to wear a diaper. Not to be made the fool, he has informed Kinsley that SHE is wearing a BABY diaper, leading to the argument “I am NOT a baby.” “Yes you are.” “No I not.” “Yes you are.” Mooom. We are on round #7.
4. Due to item #3, I have stepped in something warm twice.
5. Trying to provide incentive, I am dancing around singing "pee pee in the potty." Should I include this in my resume? I will put it right under my MBA. "Proficient in singing about urinary and bowel movements to facilitate an encouraging atmosphere."
6. The washing machine is out of order until the part Bo ordered comes in so the pee-pee, barf, food soiled clothing is piling up in giving another reason for me to ask “What’s that smell?” and search it out like a drug dog on Michigan Ave. But seriously, what is that smell?
7. Due to item #4 I have been smelling clothes to determine the level of offensiveness. Greyson is now going around sniffing everyone. This could prove to be difficult to explain in public. Sorry my kid is smelling your butt, he just wants to know if you produced a load terrible enough to leave scent on your clothing. No offense.
8. Arlo barfed on me—bad day to wear a v-neck—and then laughed. When you are #3 you learn at a much younger age that it is funny to spew fluids onto someone. We’ve further added to the funky smelling pile of laundry.
9. Also being #3 Arlo has learned that in order to get my attention you have to be the loudest of the loud kids, in true sibling style, Kinsley and Greyson have turned their volume up several notches. It now sounds like we are in the middle of Chucky Cheese where 40 kids are infected by the kiddy crack I am convinced they pump into the air.
10. In case I had any intention of ignoring the quite challenged munchkins, they are reporting each other’s every move to me in a very Snookey-esque tone. MOM! ARLO. IS. YELLLLLING. MOOOOM! I CAN’T. HEAR. DORA. ARLO. IS YELLLLLLING.

Singing A Little Diddy Doo

I am not sure if it is an occupational hazard or a genetic condition, but I sing all the time. This isn’t like ¾ of the local junior high school suffering from “Beiber Fever” singing the chorus to “Oh Baby, Baby, Baby,” although is a part of my repertoire.


I can’t even say I restrict myself to normal kid songs and nursery rhymes. We are far beyond “I’ve been working on the railroad.” Even if I were to stick to only kids songs, I know about 5 million. Want to sing a song about ducks? Well I know FOUR. Just about DUCKS! This may be helpful some day in some situation, although I am hard pressed to think of one.
Oh-no-sir-ey! I feel compelled to make up MY OWN SONGS. “I told to you to sit down and eat, sit down and eat, sit down and eat. I told you to sit down and eat, or you won’t get any cook-kiiies.” I would say this is a sanity saving measure to help me cope with the fact that I say the same thing over and over and over again. There is only so many times you can say, whisper, yell, grunt, mumble or sign “because I said so” before you start to think that maybe you should try it in French, Spanish and German because they just aren’t getting it.

This whole la-di-da-de-day thing might be acceptable if I had a singing voice. Let me paint the picture for you of what would happen if I were to audition on American Idol (it is unkind to point out that I am beyond the age limit). Randy would give the classic Randy-jaw-drop-bug-eye look. The camera pans to J-Lo who is scrunching up her nose like she saw someone wearing colored, tapered jeans. And Steven Tyler would say, “I thought you were going to be like blahhhhh (Steven Tyler scream), but instead you were like blahhhh and all I can think is blahhhhh.” You know you’re not good if Steven can find only 3 opportunities, per sentence, to give his famous donkey-got-run-over-by-a-reindeer sound.

At least my kids like it. They ASK me to sing songs to them. Then again, it isn't really like they have other song-singing alternatives. The only benefit I have found to this condition is that I can grocery shop, while singing my grocery list to myself, at the S. Pennsylvania Meijer and no one tries to mess with me.

I'm Mad. And I Mean It!

Dear McDonalds,

I think you are stupid. When I order a CHILD size milk shake, that should clue you in that I am indeed ordering it for a child. I can accept the fact you do not carry child size at that particular location and will gladly take a small for my child.

You kindly ask, would I like whipped cream and a cherry on top? How very gourmet this drive through business has become. But instead of the “Ohh how yum!” you were expecting, I inquire—does it still have a top on it? Yes it does, perfect.

I have provided two very large clues as to what I am looking for:

• Child Size
• Lid

I think my expectations would be clear. So can you please explain why you would not think to mention that you are giving me a lid that has a whole the size of a quarter with whip cream oozing out of the top?!

Instead of this letter I should have called you when the freezing cold milkshake went straight down my kids shirt and made him scream like someone was sawing off his arm. I am pretty sure there was a question reagarding this on my drivers test.

What to do when your child is screaming their brains out and you are driving the car?

A) Madly swerve while trying to crane your head to see what in the world is going on.

B) Madly swerve while trying to look in your rearview mirror to see what in the world is going on.

C) Madly swerve while you yelp with fear, what in the world is going on?

D) All of the above

McDonalds, I felt a second inclination to call you when I went to retrieve my kids from their car seats and they along with all of their winter wear was covered in sticky gooiness.

But really, the moment that I started cursing you and your stupid lid with giant hole was when I realized that not only did I have to endure all of the above, but also had to take apart, wash, and put back together TWO carseats that require a P.E. to figure out.

In case I have not been clear, we are in a fight. Even the fact that Kinsley has renamed her baby doll “Baby Chicken McNugget” is not enticing me to forgive you. I will stay mad at you for a very, very, very, long time, or until I need your services as a bribe/reward/emergency feeding situation.

Sincerely,

Elyse

The Case of the Cute Mom

There I was in Carter’s, happily browsing through the clearance section (with an extra 20% off clearance and then a 20% off coupon!) when this woman had the nerve to wreck everything. From the back she looked like one of those cute Mom’s, you know the kind who are a size 2. Then she turns so that her profile is blocking the view of the $3.99 and under rack. She not only is a cute Mom but she is a PREGNANT cute Mom. She literally looks like someone shoved a beach ball under her cashmere sweater!


For the record…when I was pregnant with Arlo by the time I hit my 7th month my maternity clothes didn’t even fit. I can’t even say that my entire being looked like a beach ball, more like a beached whale. Now don’t go thinking I am being unkind to myself, my doctor tried explaining to me (without requesting it) the reasons I was so “gi-normous.” I was medically classified as a gi-normous pregnant lady.

The nerve of her ruining my shopping fun. I am peacing-out on Carter’s and going to find some clothes so that I look like cute Mom. I don’t think the fact that I have been wearing yoga pants for the last 4 months is working in my favor. Hello, TJ Max, let’s find some jeans.

That’s a sucky idea. When you are already feeling a little insecure about your appearance, trying on jeans is a sure fire way to make you want to run to the closest Culver’s for a cheeseburger, onion rings and chocolate malt. Now doesn’t that sound counter-productive!

I did end up with several cute shirts and two pairs of fabulous jeans, as well as the determination to officially start a diet. No more of this watching what I eat and then eating chocolate chip cookies while everyone is sleeping.

In the past my mom had fabulous success with the South Beach diet. It’s a modified version of Atkins, but you are allowed some carbs. I LOVE CARBS!! I ask for a second basket of rolls when we go to Texas Roadhouse (and that is when there is only two of us dinning out!) Certainly I can give up carbs and sugar for two weeks.

By 8pm my mind had become possessed by the thought of rolls, soft pretzels, jimmy johns’ subs and anything else that contained flour. Two weeks? I didn’t make it 24 hours! I have a call into Paula Dean to ask her opinion on the matter. I think she will advise that the problem is not the bread, it is that I don’ t have enough butter in my diet. That Paula, she’s a smart cookie.

Mmmmm cookie.

Just Like Me

If you ever want to be acutely aware of your actions and behaviors just have kids. I’ve got two little imitators who watch my every move. Even Arlo has started to mimic my tone and actions, apparently I like to make a surprise face when I look at him and say “Hi” A LOT. Every time any of my kids see a doctor the report is, they sure do excel vocally. You think?!


One of Kinsley’s most favorite things to play with is a cell phone. I’ve found that I can give her a calculator and she thinks it is a phone—if you recall she ate the spacebar in my phone TWICE, so I don’t really trust her with it! She puts the phone (calculator) to her ear, tips her head to one said and says “Heyyyyy!! I good, how you? Oh that good.”

Whenever Arlo or Kinsley are carrying on, Greyson asks “what’s your deal?” You can also see me in his words when he says, “Oh you’re okay. Come here, I’ll give you a hug.”

The whole mimicking thing can be pretty darn cute but it also makes me take note of every single little thing I do or say.

Yesterday I was dying my hair, still trying to recover from the whole “let’s dye it blonde” fiasco. Being that we have well water that makes it so I can’t even run a brush through my hair unless I use special shampoo, I figure it might be good to use a hair treatment before putting dye on it. The last thing I need is to have the dye take funny and end up with purple tiger stripes (this has actually happened before! It was less than lovely!)

I put the treatment on my hair then put a plastic bag on my head to make the heat stay in and help it to work more effectively. My two little monkeys are standing in the bathroom door starring at me. Let’s see, a toddler putting a plastic bag on their own or anyone else’s head?!!

I remain in constant fear of someone suffocating or putting something on anyone else’s head. I don’t know why, I mean just because my kids make absolutely everything from sand buckets to shoeboxes be a hat and I came upstairs one day to find they had piled ALL of the laundry on top of Arlo because he “looked cold” I get a little nervous. We have a very clear rule—do not EVER put anything on Arlo’s face. However, the rules about what you put on your own head are a little vague. I don’t want to hinder their creativity and tell them that they can’t put buckets on their head, what fun would that be?

So I need to be very clear in this whole plastic bag covering hair issue. “Only grownups can put bags on their head. I don’t want to EVER see you doing it. Got it?”

Greyson says with as much enthusiasm and energy as if we were in the land of ChewandSwallow* and it’s raining donuts: When I get big, so big I can touch the ceiling, I am going to put a bag on my head! It will be so cool. I can wear a bag on my head and go and get french fries.

Me: Um sure. When you can touch the ceiling you can do that.

Greyson: Yeahhh!! I can’t wait to get big to put a bag on my head!

I think it is good to have goals and things to look forward to so I just left the whole conversation right there.

*It’s the name of a town in a book/movie. I’ll give you a hint, food rains from the sky. Like Duh.