why i don’t tweet

Well, it’s not that I don’t want to.  I really really want to.  I would love to be a twitter superstar.  It’s just, it wouldn’t fit into my job description.  I’d have to tweet on overtime – and I like to spend my overtime sleeping.

See, there was this one day I was on the computer blogging about being a mom while my kids were in the other room fighting about something/everything/nothing.  My husband watched the scene for a while then said, “Um, there’s a difference between being a mom and blogging about being a mom.”  With narrowed eyes, I tore my gaze away from the glow of the computer screen and chuckled, “Oh, ha-ha.  Yes, I see why this is funny.  I’m typing while the kids are busy destroying each other, then I’ll blog about it instead of engaging.”  I get it.  Ugh, I hate it when he’s right.

So my theory is – If I had thrown twitter into the mix of my blogging, emailing and facebooking -  it would’ve indeed pushed me over the social media edge.  I wouldn’t actually be a mom anymore.  I’d barely be virtual mom.  I’d be reduced to a creature hunched over a corner desk in the kitchen grunting and typing while Rome burns.  And worse yet, my husband would be right.

So it was with much conviction that I canceled my twitter account.  Has anyone else done that?  Cause the warnings twitter gives you are truly frightening.  “You will never be able to use that user name again…again…….again….Once you hit cancel – that’s it.  You’re off the team.  That user name is dead to us.  Are you really absolutely sure you want to cancel your account and delete that user name for ever and ever and ever?” It wasn’t so much like a choice, “Meh, I don’t feel like tweeting anymore.”  It was more like a life altering decision of eternal second guessing.

But I did it, cause when I thought about it, what I would be doing is tweeting about my blog, then linking it on facebook, then facebooking about my tweeted blog, then I would be blogging about my tweets.  Just super media redundancy.  And I hate redundancy.

Also, I don’t have a portable means to keep up to date, AND that’s a good thing.  I have an old clam shell flip phone that pretty much looks as foreign as an Atari home system.  It has the kid’s schools, pediatrician, and emergency contact numbers and that’s about it.  If I had an iphone, (no honey, that’s not a suggestion completely void of veiling) I’m pretty sure that I would be much more involved on the internet and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing.  But, it would hobble me for the day to day stuff.  I think.  I’m pretty sure….

But then there’s the ipad……….ooooohOOOOOH ipad…………………….I’d just be getting it for the kid’s educational stuff…………..games.   It would be for the kids, truly.

Eventually though – I’m pretty sure there will be some kind of social media convergence.  Someday, we will all be plugged into, and able to read each others every word, and hear each others every thought….

Ya know, like the Borg (is my Star Trek showing again?)  Resistance is Futile.

lavender – lavender will make it better

It’s the end of summer.  My son has started school, but my daughter doesn’t start until next week.  Which is exactly one light year.

Here’s the thing.   I enjoy, love, and have fun with my kids, but I’m ready to shift gears.  They’re bored, I’m running on fumes and we need the professionals to take over, it’s time.  My husband suspected that I was unhappy this morning, but really it’s not that.  There’s a difference between unhappiness and just being done.   I would say about 90% of the moms I talk to are in the same boat.  I recognize the look immediately at the playground.  The mom with the million mile stare, has 2 or more kids pulling at her clothes, and has a slightly slower reaction time.

What me and these moms have done, until this point, is not phone it in.  For me, I have played Barbies (in FULL character), I have played Candyland (without stacking the deck), Chutes and Ladders, Don’t break the Ice, chased on the playground, taken to playdates, read to, colored with, baked with (healthy pumpkiny muffins ‘n stuff), helped learn cool computer games (PBS-education based), played in the backyard kid pool, jumped into freezing water, praised the good behavior, disciplined the bad, respectfully and thoughtfully answered questions, taught words, letters, numbers, addition, subtraction, and danced, and joked around, and and and and and and – I am now ready for them to have the structure of school – the comraderie – the challenge – and the pride they will feel through independent success.

Soon.

So, I got to thinking about those old Calgon commercials.  Remember?   The kids are all going nuts, any control has been lost, the house looks like a Tim Burton inspired domestic snowglobe, and the mom has retreated to the bathroom to marinate in a solution of scented granules.  (Read: Mom has lost her mind, locked herself in the bathroom, and the only solution is relaxive aggression.)  I do not want to be a sudsy martyr.

I simply want to do my job effectively.  Everyone knows that a happy mom (or stay at home dad) means a happy family.  It’s the pace that will change.  I don’t think it will be perfect (I’m not delusional) – but I know I will grocery shop alone and maybe paint a small room lilac for a little girl.

I don’t want to be “taken away,”  I simply want to be right here, right now and of sound mind.

That said, I do enjoy the occasional bubble bath, no pounding at the door please.

Beta Mom I am

OK ok – So, I was just coming back from the grocery store and I saw something that was utterly impressive.  ‘Cause here’s the thing, I’m a mom – I’m 42.  I’ve lost a couple of pounds by cutting out sugar and I’m walking almost everyday.  Yay me.

HOWEVER, I just saw this chick…A mom, jogging, lookin’ about 6-7 months pregnant AND PUSHING A JOGGING STROLLER UPHILL with AN 18 MO OLD IN IT.

Tits down – You win, Alpha Mom.

Huge Tiny Successes

When you’re a parent, success is measured out very differently.  It doesn’t come in bold splashes of giant news.  There’s no back-slapping boss making an announcement.  It’s small, quiet and almost invisible in the moment it happens.  The only witness is you and the celebration is your smile.

I admired one of these huge tiny successes just the other day.  I was getting the kids out the door and into the car for summer school.  We all checked to make sure we were ready…Shoes?  Check.  Purse?  Check.  Backpacks?  Check.

We all got in the car and I asked, “Is everyone buckled in?”  Check.  Check.  And Check.

You see, we all got in the car, we all opened and closed our own doors, and we all buckled our own seat belts.

And Another thing…

I haven’t watched the advertising documentary called Art and Copy yet – but I have watched the trailer. I can’t remember who says this in the film, or exactly how, but basically it goes like this, “90% of the time, what we are selling people is what they wish their lives were like.” Hmmm.

That explains why I could disappear for hours into Real Simple magazine. If you haven’t read it – It’s basically a magazine with picture after picture of professionally organized and beautiful rooms. No mess or clutter, just gorgeous simplicity and superb art direction. I could stare at it’s pages for days – As my husband likes to point out, it’s pornography. It is. It’s our world as we wish to see it. Beautiful, unblemished, freshly painted, and staring at us from the pages of a magazine – almost close enough to touch.

It’s a form of delusion that I frequently get frustrated about. Is it healthy to fantasize about things that are really impossible? No one that I know, has that much control over their surroundings. Just like air-brushed bodies in Playboy, Real Simple makes a home look fantasy perfect. Ugh.

I live in the real world. It’s kinda like The Matrix. (Is my sci-fi showing again?) But there seems to be this fantasy world out there that keeps being presented to us. When Morpheus offers Neo the truth – Neo wakes up in the real world – which is kinda messy and not so nice.

But, I believe it is better to be wide awake – This is it folks, me and my mess. And the people who help me keep awake are my kids. Best little reality checkers in town.

As I am typing this my daughter is currently turning buckets of puzzles upside down in the other room. My son is upstairs making sure that the beds never get made. And the dishes seem to be multiplying on their own. But, life in the real world…It’s pretty good. Especially when the mess makers are cuddling in bed with me and saying, “I love you mommy.” I don’t think anyone could ever package and sell that.

Still – I can’t help but think about a robin’s egg blue room, and one vase on the dresser, with branches from a pink dogwood arching out in all directions.

Stay at home Fashion

Let’s face it, fleece vests are really just the new aprons.

Astronomy Lessons

My son was just looking at a book about science and the life cycle of the sun. He asked me how long a star lives. I said for billions and billions of years, but then it dies, including our sun. Oh god – the look he had when he looked up from his book. I wish I could take it back, I wish I could take it back. He asked with a worried face, “Mom, when is our sun gonna die?” “Well son, we are talking billions and billions of years…don’t you worry.” I think I side stepped it successfully.

And I think we are ok now. At least I am…He was next looking at cross sections of the planets, then asked me….”Hey mom! Do you wanna see the inside of Uranus?”

Not really – thanks anyway.

Report from the Hive

Whenever I get sick, I feel like I am responsible for our colony collapse.

You know what’s awesome?

When I am facing the computer and blogging – all I have to do is wipe the screen with the sleeve of my fleece and it’s all sparkling clean – and that is waaaaay more easy than the rest of the house.

I don’t mean to be all Nanny 911 – But,

I am always trying new things to motivate my 4 and 5 year olds. Lately, I have been on a quest for something that gets their butts moving, without having to hear myself yell. A positive reinforcer, which was not included in my DNA. I think I read about this system in a magazine somewhere…and we’ve been doing this for about 2 months now, and it’s working for us.

I feel like I must share this with my fellow mothers and fathers. If I did not, I would be carrying out a gross injustice by sheltering this information. Like I said, it works for us – That’s all I know. I’m not an expert, but I want to throw it out there as a working system.

I got a set of plastic counting tokens/chips. I think I got them at a Learning Store – or it might have been the Staples art section. Then, I took one of my leftover, giant, plastic pretzel jugs from COSTCO. I wrote Burger King on it.

Every time the kids respond to our requests – they get a chip. Get dressed – Get a chip. Put your dishes on the counter – get a chip. Turn off the TV or Leapster II and don’t have a giant freak-out – Get a chip. They seem to enjoy it, and there is a very satisfying ka-plink when the chip is dropped in. Once we get 20 chips, we go to Burger King on Sunday.

The system is sort of set up as a no-fail. We never take any chips out as a punishment – which I think is important. They can pretty easily meet the goal of 20 chips. They win, I win – and I have had a significant reduction in headaches.

So, there it is. Phew…I feel much freer now that I have shared.