Parenting other people’s children

I’ve never professed to be the perfect mom. In fact I don’t even think she exists. Besides, who defines perfection as it relates to parenting children. Who cares if dinner wasn’t comprised of the four food groups each and every night? Who cares if bedtime wasn’t at precisely 8:00 each night? There is no magic parenting manual and for every parenting manual out there, I guarantee there is another that disputes much of the material contained in the first manual. In my mind if I raise well mannered, compassionate, thoughtful and respectful young adults then I will have done a good job.

I also don’t hold other parents to unrealistically high standards . Before I had kids and heard a screaming child in a store I couldn’t imagine why the parent wasn’t “controlling” the child. Now that I have kids of my own I know the reality of it is that kids do that. And while yes it is up to the parent to try and correct certain behaviors sometimes she just really needs that one thing, and there is no one to watch her child while she runs to the store. So I try and cut that mom some slack. Because I’ve been there.
But what I refuse to try and understand and cut slack for is rudeness in children. Specifically, children that are old enough to know better.

Friday evening, as I was helping my son learn how to inline skate one of the little neighborhood girls who’d been playing with my kids for some time looks at me and says
“You should exercise.”

A little taken aback but not knowing where this was going I answered her honestly and said “I try to when I can.”

My honesty was rewarded with “You should lose some weight, then you can be skinny just like me”. Mind you this little girl borders on unhealthily skinny but I thought two things 1) WTF and 2) as she went on about how skinny and wonderful she was, she is an eating disorder waiting to happen.

I.was.shocked.

Sure I could stand to lose a few lbs. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that she actually uttered those rude, obnoxious comments. It took me a while to regain my composure. So I stood there for a moment silent.
Then I calmly asked this bold 9 year old “Eva, did anyone tell you that it’s rude to tell people they need to lose weight”

“No, I didn’t know” she replied.

“Well it is” I said and with that I told the twins it was time to go in. But of course I stewed on it. Several glasses of wine later and some ranting to my mom, my sister and my bff I was on the mend.

Then Saturday hit and we agreed to watch the son of a casual acquaintance. We’d initially been told it would only be for a couple of hours and when last, Jay, was over he was generally a well behaved child and the twins enjoyed playing with him.
Saturday,Jay was a terror.
On the way back from picking Jay up I asked hubby to stop by the store. Apparently Jay asked for everything. My husband, being the softie that he is, agreed to buy a six pack of yogurt drinks and even a toy for Jay (and B & J of course). When they arrived home Jay told me to tell my kids not to drink the yogurt drinks because he was taking them home. Then he proceeded to use up all the web “goo” in the Spiderman toy that hubby bought for B and wouldn’t give it back nor would he share the toy, that hubby bought him, with the twins.
He hogged the swing set- telling the twins they were not allowed to swing on it. When they were playing house he assigned the roles and told my daughter she could not play if she was not the mom. She wasn’t allowed to play the sister. He slammed doors in my children’s faces, took toys away from them, tried to pit them against one another, you name it he did it. Jay is 7.
Hubby and I both had to talk to Jay about good manners.
When his mom returned to pick him up, 6 hours later, she didn’t thank us or ask how Jay was. She grabbed him and pretty much took off.
Jay will not be returning.

I.simply.don’t.get.it.

Why was I forced to teach these children their behavior was not ok? Shouldn’t those basic teachings have come from the parent?
I teach my kids that good manners are important. I teach them that rudeness is not ok. I try and teach them that sharing and playing nice with others is fun.

No I am not the perfect parent and I don’t profess to be

But heed my advice - Teach your child basic courtesy, basic manners and respect.

Because if I have to parent your children, you may not like what they come home saying about you.

An update on my mom & a shameless ploy to win a vacuum

Wow, ever since the stroller giveaway I've gotten all kinds of commercial chez Because I must Blog. I promise a "real" post soon but please indulge me while I get just a wee bit "commercial" yet again.

I just found this at 5 Minutes for Mom.

A Dyson Vacuum Giveaway. I mean c'mon who doesn't want a Dyson ? Ok, Ok, maybe it really is just me that secretly dreams about one of these super-powered vacs but dammit I have a very furry canine,two little ones and one not so little one that all like to leave crumb trails in their wake.

Now I'd go out and purchase one but sadly somehow I just can't find the extra $400 in the budget for this item.

But if I did have it, this vacuum would be at the top of my list. This particular Dyson is pink and $40 from each sale goes towards funding Breast Cancer research.

As many of you know, my very own mother was diagnosed in October of last year. Over the last 11 months she underwent a bilateral mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiation and I'm happy to report she's doing well. We're not out of the woods yet, but each day that passes we get closer to that 5 year mark in which she can be considered officially cancer free.

My mother means the world to me and I want to support her in every way I can. As such I've become more of an advocate for Breast Cancer awareness and education and have done what I can financially to support the cause.
I urge you to do the same. Even if its the purchase of the specially marked pink tic tacs or the pink water bottle please consider purchasing pink to support the cause.
And if you're rollin in the dough go out and get yourself a Dyson at Target.

But do something! Take action so we can ultimately eradicate this horrible disease.

Now, I shall step off my soapbox and sit and wait patiently for my name to be drawn for that kick ass vacuum. *wink*

And the Winner is...

Drumroll please...


Phunkymama1


Congratulations, Katie, you are the winner of the premier Ct 0.1 stroller from Chicco.
Thanks to everyone that entered and came up with such creative names. I wish I had a stroller for all y'all. You deserve it. There is still time to head over to Chicco's 30 Strollers in 30 days giveaway site but hurry you must enter by September 30th.

Also thanks to random.org for helping me select a contest winner (try it out for your next contest...it's nifty)

I'm Scurred

Cause I don't bare my soul enough on this here blog I just had to join in the fun here (thanks Mamma for showing me the way).

I was initially tempted to pick dare because it just sounded generally easier and a little less risky. But then I imagined that she might actually ask me to like post a picture of myself or she might have me run naked through the streets of Seattle yelling "I picked dare, I picked dare" . Naw, not for me.

So I strayed and picked truth. Only now I'm scurred.

Is she going to ask me if I've ever farted in public (uh yes and it was during a new hire orientation at work - I wanted to die).
Will she ask me if I've ever fed my children candy for dinner (why yes I have, uh not intentionally though, I let them have it before dinner -duh!- and of course they weren't hungry later).
Or dear lawd, she may even ask me if I've ever stolen (yes, when I was a little juvenile deliquent,about 14, I stole some t-shirts and other stuff I didn't need -I can't even remember what-from a neighborhood store. I thought I was so clever in my thieving techniques. I paid for one thing and had the rest stuffed in my bag. I figured they wouldn't dare think I was stealing if I actually paid for something. I was stopped just before exiting and asked if I was going to pay for the rest of the stuff. "What stuff?" I faked ignorance. "All the stuff in your bag". Shit I remember thinking. Do I run or admit I did it, hmmm. In the end I gave the stuff back and was let off with a warning "If I ever see you in here again I'll call the cops" he yelled and I hightailed it outta there and didn't look back)

Wait, that was quite a bit of embarassing truth I just revealed...scurred, smurred.

Bring it on.

And y'all better head on over there too and then come back and tell me what you picked.

I'll be waiting.

Smooches,
WM

My dear guests, I am your host Mr. Roark, welcome to Fantasy Island

When I wasn't dreaming up ways to commit mole-icide,rejoicing in the fact that Vera Wang is down with the po' folk and is debuting her new affordable fall line at Kohls, or enjoying the first few days of preschool with the twins you may have caught me , ass glued to my couch ,watching re-runs of Fantasy Island.

I have a little confession to make. I freakin' love that show. It was my Friday night thing as a kid in the 80's. I waited a whole week to see what new and exciting fantasies the guests would request. And then one day it just disappeared. I hoped it would come out on video. I looked everywhere to no avail and as I got older my fascination with the show grew. When it didn't show up on DVD or cable's TVland network I resigned myself to never seeing Mr. Roark and never hearing the words 'The plane, the plane' muttered in Tattoo's familiar french accent ever again.
Until several weeks ago. I was searching through the cable On Demand feature menu and I spotted it. Furckin Fantasy Island. I was geeked. So I sat and I watched and it was as entertaining as I remembered. Aah good old Mr. Roark with his sexy accent and element of mystery and lovable goofy Tattoo. The sheer joy I experienced as I watched F.I. in all its '70's glory was indescribable. What can I say I'm easy to please.

So I watched and I watched until I'd gone through all of the episodes.

Then it occured to me , these guests spent $50,000 to live out their fantasies but ultimately never did. Mr. Roark always had to throw in a little twist. A lesson of sorts. Like the episode where the nerdy teacher, who spends most of his life unnoticed by women, asks to be a sheik and have a harem. Mr. Roark arranged the fantasy, having this teacher replace a "real life" sheik but failed to mention to this poor sap that the sheik was wanted dead. If I was that sap I'd be thinking Uh-uh no you di-in set me up to be killed and then I'd insist on getting my 50 large back.
But if anyone could pull it off, Mr. Roark could. He had that way about him... you know as if to say "Look you greedy bitches you can't have it all." Ha! It doesn't get any cooler than that.

Yep, I lurves me some Fantasy Island.

What show does it for you?

I don't even know what the hell to call this post -signed Frustrated

There is an evil mole hanging out in his tunnel somewhere in the depths of my front yard plotting against me. He made his presence known Monday evening and has continued to taunt me every day since that time with a new molehill. Each one bigger than the next.
My quest for the perfect June Cleaver lawn is dying a horrible death at the hands of this mole.
Never have I wanted to do violent things to an animal but I'm feeling it. I'm feeling it now. I'm thinking of ways I can ruin his little mole world.
But he's smart this little sucker, he only shows himself when I'm away at work. He's probably laughing at me now, silently plotting his attack for tomorrow.
And I , well I just sit here and blog about it.
You've won this round evil mole, but I fully intend on Googling ways to destroy your ass as soon as I can tear myself away from this blog.

Uhh and if anyone has any experience with making these little suckers go far far away you'll have an extremely indebted, but much more sane bffl (best friend for life)

How big of a sleeping bag does your horse need ? **Updated

****Updated w/pictures, blurry pictures, but pictures nonetheless

Saturday night I had without a doubt the most unique overnight guest. Or guests shall I say - there were two of them. Two cute little ponies spending the night. In.my.backyard.

No I don't live in the country, I live in a normal residential area several miles south of Seattle in a well populated city.

My guests were very well behaved I might add. They even went so far as to mow my lawn. Er, eat it , I mean. And fertilize it too. Alot. Big round steaming piles of fertilizer. For as small as my equine guests were they sure dumped quite a load.

Did they just crash the party you may be asking ? Nope they were invited, only I thought they'd be leaving instead of hunkering down at the house o' Worker Mommy. Here's how it all went down. Those of you that having been reading my blog for sometime know that my oldest stepdaughter, TomGirl scored a job at the pony place where the twins had their 4th birthday party.
Saturday night I had my bff and her family over to celebrate her daughters upcoming birthday. TomGirl suggested we call Sarah,her boss, and see if she'd bring a pony as a present for my bff's daughter.
Sarah came and brought not one but two ponies for free. So of course we fed her and thanked her profusely and well maybe we loosened her up with a beer or two. And being the responsible adult she is, she didn't want to drive home.
So there you have it, she, her son and Izak and Kip, my pony pals, all crashed at my house Saturday evening.
I can't tell you how cool odd it was to wake up, look out my window and see horses munchin' on my grass.
That was truly one for the record books.

My son B, Sarah (the pony owner) and of course the pony

J, Sarah and Sarah's son (notice the yawn), leading the ponies home in the morning