I do. I lie to my kids. Innocent lies mostly. Lies to make my life easier. Lies to try and keep the magic of childhood alive for them.
I lie to my kids about Santa. Or well, I did for years. Now both of the girls know the truth, each told around age six by some punk kid at school. (Harrison doesn’t fully get it yet, but I plan on him believing in Santa as well.) When asked point blank by each of my daughters, I did tell the truth. I also made them swear to keep it quiet for other kids and their siblings. I believe in truth telling, when asked. I do. I find it to be important. You will never hear me tell my kids that the stork brought them to my doorstep.
I have never seen how it’s an issue. I see the distinction. Lying about Santa hasn’t ever been a big deal. It’s believing in what you can’t see. It’s being innocent. It’s believing in magic. How is that bad?
I guess to some people, it is bad. Any lying is horrible. We should all tell our children the truth. All the time. If we will lie to them about Santa, we are setting them up for failure later in life. At least that is what I hear from certain people who don’t tell their kids any lies ever.
Can you imagine that? Never, ever, ever lying to your children? Their are people online who claim they never do. Not about Santa. Not about anything. There were a few people who said as much in this post by Mom 101′s post on Santa last week.
I asked a few people I know locally. I had a woman tell me that she never lies to her kids. She tells them the truth about everything. They know about her budget/money issues. They do not believe in magic of any kind. They will never not know reality, were her exact words.
It was eye opening for me. Kind of sad in a way. That someone’s 9, 5 and 3 year olds should only know reality. Reality seems very harsh for a three year old child. It’s harsh as an adult. Why in the world should a three year old know that yet?
I don’t even necessarily care if you tell your kids the truth about Santa. Some kids prefer to know. Some figure it out. Some are Jewish. Or whatever. There are always going to be kids who don’t believe in Santa. I mean I wish those kids wouldn’t ruin it for other kids. But that’s part of life.
It was the, I never lie to my children that didn’t sit right with me. Really? NEVER?
I’m calling that a giant lie right there.
You never told your kids that broccoli are little trees? That the ice cream is all gone? That you were “wrestling” with daddy? Ahem.
You’ve never told any lie? I just don’t buy that.
Dora is napping. Lucky the dog went to live on a farm. Spotty the fish is swimming to the ocean now.
If you keep rolling your eyes at me, one day they will get stuck up there. How will you feel then?
Oh this? This is monster spray. It gets rid of all the monsters. Milk makes you grow strong muscles like Daddy. Green beans? Oh they make you super tall like Uncle. You want to be super tall don’t you?
McDonald’s is closed today. The park is closed today. Disney World is only open for kids over ten.
Oh that song by Miley Cyrus, Party in the USA? Oh it started skipping badly on iTunes, so I had to delete it.
Oh these Peppermint Joe-Joe’s are spicy son.very spicy. Ow. You wouldn’t like them. Here have a Chips Ahoy.
Some of those are just mine. I am funny, in that, I tell my children the truth on big things. Yet, I will lie to them on small innocent things, as witnessed above. Life is harsh. I’ve explained cancer, death, divorce, suicide, war and the Holocaust all in the past year. I won’t lie on those things.
My children know the correct names of their private parts and we’ve had many discussions about what is okay touching and what isn’t. I will never sugar coat that one. As much as I wish I could.
Yet the small, innocent, doesn’t hurt anyone, yet makes my life easier lie? I’m all for it.
I’m not alone either. I asked Twitter. Here were a few examples.
That was a great one. I need to remember it next summer.
This will come to bite you on the butt in a year or two friend, but I commend you on your answer to a seven year old. Sometimes, they don’t want to hear the truth.
I do this one all time. With Elmo. With Cars. With Toy Story. This is called, sanity saving.
Been there, done that. It only works until they learn where you hide it. Actually then they start using it back on you.
I got a lot of answers like this. I can text, email, call Santa. I myself used it for years.
I love that one. Pretty sure I used it a time or two in the past.
Little lies. Parents….well most parents tell them every now and again. Is it going to make our children all become ax murderers? Somehow I doubt it.
So…what say you? Do you lie to your kids?
We are playing some perverse game of musical beds in my house. It has to stop, I am just not sure how to stop it.
It started out all innocently. See, when Harrison was born, we had a scare in the hospital. Nothing big, but scary enough that I was a neurotic mess the night he came home from the hospital. When the choice came to put him in his crib, I hedged. The girls had always slept in their cribs. But that was a different time and I was a different me. So….I brought him to bed with me. Logan raised his eyebrows at me, but didn’t say a word. It just sort of worked. Harrison was a great sleeper as an infant.
Fast forward about nine months and he stopped being a pleasant bed baby. We transitioned him into sleeping in the crib. Which worked out okay. However? He’s not a great sleeper. At nearly two years old (Sigh. When did that happen?) he still wakes up and cries out for me a couple times a night. He’s lost his bink. He’s gotten caught up in his blankie in a way he doesn’t like. He…well whatever, he just doesn’t sleep through the night. Or he won’t and he screams, which isn’t pleasant for me or his sleeping sisters. However? In January when Logan moved out, I started going to get him when he woke up. Bringing him into bed with me. Partially because listening to him cry, made me weep. Partially because I already wasn’t sleeping, so what did it matter.
Also, Bailey has pretty much slept with me non-stop since January. I put her to bed in her bed. Most nights at least. However, as soon as I leave the room, she gets up, takes her blankies and goes and gets in my bed. Two or three hours later, when I go to bed, I’m not willing to move her, so I generally leave her.
I don’t mind her in my bed. She’s like the perfect sleep buddy. She rarely moves. She barely makes a peep. She’s cuddly. I do mind Harrison in my bed though. Yet, I don’t seem to be able to stop it.
Reality is, it’s hard to say no at 2am. I know he wants me. He knows he wants me. I am weak. It’s hard, this single parent gig. Some people do it non-stop. I don’t. We share custody. But still, there are three of them and one of me. at night, when I’m tired? I loose the will power to be strong.
I am also very, very tired. He’s rolly. He’s like a baby steam roller. He’s a blanket thief. I don’t even think I can explain to you what happens to the sheets. He’s insane. He’s a toddler blanket dictator. Bailey and I wake up shivering. He kicks too. Some mornings, I play, where are my children. It’s a fun game. Where fun equals weird.
This is a night/morning example from a few days ago: (I copied it out of a chat with Liz from last week.)
At midnight maybe, Bailey came into bed with me. At 1am Harrison woke up.
I brought him into bed with me. At 3am I know Bailey got up and went to the bathroom, at 6:45am I woke up, I was alone. Went to see where my children all were, can only assume Bailey got tired of Harrison kicking and left. She was on the couch. Maybe Harrison went to sleep with Morgan for some ungodly reason, because that’s where he was. He Probably kicked her too many times she got up and slept in Bailey ‘s bed? Is insane. No fucking wonder I am so tired today.
Yeah. That was a few days ago. Last night? I slept with the little two in my bed. I woke up on the edge, with Bailey basically huddled right next to me…probably for warmth, since Harrison had stolen all of the covers.
Is it a wonder that I’m tired all the freaking time? I should know how to do this. But I don’t. It’s hard to break a habit that I started. I never started it with the girls. The reason Bailey sleeps with me, is solely because she was just too sad when her dad and I separated and needed me. She may still, which is why I’m not willing to kick her out of my bed yet.
I feel bad that I’m okay with her in my bed, but not him.
He’s gotta go. I just don’t know how to be a hard ass at night. I’m great at it during the day. At night though? I’m a big ole wuss and he knows it.
Halp? Any ideas? Tell me I’m not alone. Please someone. Anyone?
Because I’m thinking it’s becoming a need.
No joke. Gmail has barely worked all week. I open it and it says I’m not there. It won’t send my emails. Then sometimes it does work. But only for a bit. It’s like it’s napping 94% of the time. I’ll get emails to my phone that won’t show up in my inbox for hours. I can’t even discuss the Gchat issues, because that make me want to cry. But hai, it stops mid-sentence and kicks me out. Or sometimes the person I’m talking too. For some odd reason, it rarely kicks us both out at once. WTF is that about? It also is randomly sending me emails. Gchat is sending me emails. Why? I don’t know. But it is. Of current conversations that I’M STILL HAVING!! Emails that I have opened six times, but it’s convinced it’s still a new email to be read.
Facebook isn’t any better. It’s only sending status update emails when it feels like it. Which is very convenient. I’d like to try that. I’ll only feed my children when it’s convenient for me. I’ll only put gas in my car when I feel like it. I’ll only pay my bills every 13th month. It sends me things at odd hours. I got something yesterday that was a note from someone from FOUR DAYS AGO. Um, hi, I’ve already been on FB and replied to that and the person already responded and then I responded again. I’m betting I’ll get those sent to me this weekend.
And Twitter….oh special little Twitter. I have seen the fail whale more times this week, then in the last three months alone. You get on one second and then the next second you aren’t on. It lets you send tweets sometimes and others it’s loading for 5 minutes and somehow your tweet didn’t get posted. I’ve taken to copying every tweet before I hit publish, just because I get tired of re-writing them. It sends DM’s hours later and sometimes four of the same one. It sends them out of order too, so you feel like you’re having a conversation backwards an upside down.
It’s like the Internet is failing. It needs to get it’s shit together. I’m tired of this. And yes, it’s all about me. Ha.
I’m about to purchase these things I think I remember….stamps? I’ll need to buy paper too. Where does one buy paper and stamps? Anyone remember?
Also, are carrier pigeons still around? Know where I can get one of those? Do we have to go back to cans and string? Do you think cans and string would make it to Oregon and California?
But, for serious? My two best friends live in different states. This? Is how I communicate with them. This is how I communicate with all of my friends. The Internet is my lifeline. It needs to step up it’s game. Now.
I’ve always loved reading. I was reading at four years old. I learned by memorizing words. My mother claims I just got tired of her saying, yes, I’ll read to you in a bit. I absorbed the words. I ate them for breakfast, lunch and dinner and everything in between. I’ve always had a great imagination and reading took me to new worlds. It helped me escape. I was safe, in the pages of a great book. reading was like air. I needed it to live. I’d read anything. Truly. Anything.
When I’d get in trouble, my mom would take away my current book. She knew it made more of an impact then removing my TV, friends or video game privileges. She was a very wise and super mean woman. ha. I do the same thing to Morgan. Well that and her prized possession, the iTouch. I am lucky that all three of my kids adore books.
One of the things that I’ve lost in the past eight years is reading. It’s just the thing that dwindled away until it’s no longer existent. I read to my kids all the time. I read blogs. I read Twitter streams. I read the back of the shampoo bottle as I bathe Harrison. But somewhere along the way, I lost reading books.
I’ve tried many times to get back into it. I’ve joined book clubs, online and off. I’ve bought books that I never read, because I forget to take them some places. I sit in doctors offices, in the carpool lane, in the Starbucks and read my Twitter stream or emails, because I never remember to have a book with me. I’ve probably averaged a book or two a year since having kids. I used to read that many in a single week. Sometimes more.
For my birthday, I received a Kindle. A gift from someone amazing. Something so unexpected and wonderful that four days later, I still have no words.
What I do know is that I’m in LOVE WITH IT. Ahem. It’s shiny and pretty and so amazing. I’d always wanted one. The best thing is? I can take it everywhere with me. It easily fits in my purse.
It took me an hour the first night to come up with a single author that I liked, to see if they had a new book. An hour. An entire hour.
Right now? I need something to be for just me and I think this is it. I’m struggling right now. A lot. I need something to take my mind off of my life and Twitter just isn’t cutting it these days. I spend way too much time alone.
I need help. I need book suggestions badly. So tell me, what is your absolute favorite book of all time? Your current favorite book? The last book you read? If it’s from years ago, it’s okay, I’m likely to not have read it.
I don’t like romance novels and I’m not into vampires, but all suggestions are welcome.
It was brought to my attention last night by some amazingly awesome friends, that I will not get kicked of the island if I don’t figure my life out by the time I turn 30 in a month. Shocker, I know. Basically the consensus is I’m worrying about something that is completely mental. That I need to relax about it, because I really, truly have enough to worry about. Also? That I’m not the only one who had no clue what they wanted to do at 30 years old. Which really is good to know, because I’ve been freaking out for days now. This is why one needs great friends. Friends to listen to you whine and cry, who will also tell you to CHILL OUT ALREADY!
My mother asked me yesterday what I wanted for my birthday. Of course in that moment had no idea, however I’ve managed to think of some things. To move the last three posts down a bit (Because holy cow, hai depression. Sorry friends. Today really is a better day. Promise.), I’ve decided to post this magnificent list for you all. Because really, it may be a bit more than my mother can handle. Maybe some of you can help her out? I know you are all just itching to get me birthday presents. Anyway…
1. An island. Preferably a warn, sunny, beautiful, relaxing, great beach island. With cabana boys, drinks in coconuts and a free Starbucks.
2. The winning Power Ball numbers. Because I’d like to be independently wealthy.
3. My own private jet that will fly me wherever I want to go, whenever I want to go.
4. A House Elf.
5. An iPhone. Oh and a Kindle too. While I’m on this subject, a new Mac laptop, one that doesn’t over heat and need a time out after 40 minutes would be nice too.
6. A brand new house, with a huge kitchen and all new furniture.
7. For all my closest friends to live on the same block as me.
8. A Hawaiian vacation. Two weeks would be lovely.
9. A trip to London.
Nine sounds like a nice round number, so I’ll stop there for now. Let me know if you have any questions whatsoever.
There’s this thing that I’m going to in a few weeks. BlogHer. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Might ring a bell? (For those of you not going, I am sorry but this post is all about it. I’ve been there, I’ve wanted to go twice previously. I get how it can be to listen to it all the time. Please forgive me though, because I need to talk about this.)
So um, yeah, I am going to be part of the Community Keynote at the conference. A post that I wrote was submitted by the lovely and talented Stacey. I told her she could submit it when she asked, because I honestly didn’t think it would get chosen. I know that sounds bad, but it’s true. I have no pre-conceived notions about my writing. I know it’s not the best. It’s just me, raw and un-cut.
However my post did get chosen. I am absolutely honored by this. I can not even explain how honored and thrilled I am. To be a part of something like this is just beyond me. But I am going to be part of this. I am going to get up there and read my post to the two five gulp hundreds of people who could possibly be in the room.
Can you feel my fear over the screen?
I am terrified. I have no doubts that I can do it. That’s not the problem. I may talk to fast and sweat a bit, but I am positive I can get through it. But I’m still scared shitless. That’s a lot of freaking people, yo. Serious. Some of the blogging greats will be reading during this keynote. People who I adore, people who are extremely great writers. (I did hire a professional hand holder, a drink giver and possibly a body guard. Won’t they be sad when they realize, I pay in Jelly Beans.) I don’t know that I measure up.
This came up after I realized that I was already nervous about the conference in general. Nervous being a mild word. Nightmares. I’m having BlogHer nightmares. Going to this conference is so far out of my comfort zone, I can not even begin to tell you.
I’ve been doing this blogging gig, off and on since 2005. But I’ve never gone to a conference. I’ve literally only met four blogger. I don’t tell people that I blog. I won’t tell people when I get back. My family and friends think I am going on a girls weekend. That is just the way it is.
So I’m scared. I don’t know what to expect. I’ve heard all the stories, the rumors and seen all the posts for years. But reality is different.
I’m hoping that some of you who have gone before can help me out on a few small questions I have. Might put my mind at ease a bit. Anyone of you who is new to this too, maybe we can be buddies? Having buddies is always better than wandering around by yourself. Right?
Ok, here goes nothing.
1. Does it matter if I wear jeans and flip-flops the entire time? I keep hearing people discuss dresses and such, but that’s just not something I’m into. But I don’t want to be the only one looking like her wardrobe sucks.
2. Business cards? Is this like a must? Are you doing it?
3. How many of you really think you’ll go to the Community Keynote?
4. Am I the only one scared shitless?
5. If I hide in a closet, will one of you bring me drinks?
I’ll leave it at this for now. I’m working on another post, one that I stole from Undomestic Diva, on what you should know about me before we meet in person. Maybe you should know that I am a totally idea thief. Nah, you all knew that already.
Okay, halp, please.
Most of you won’t know this, because it’s been so long that I rarely discuss it, but Morgan was born a month early. Her due date was January 10, 2002. When my water broke on December 7th, 2001, I kinda lost my shit. As we rushed to the hospital, I imagined all of the horrible things that could possibly be wrong with my tiny baby and I just hoped over and over again, that somehow she’d be okay. She was okay. A tiny peanut of a thing, but she was just perfect. I guess she just wanted to do things her way…which is absolutely no different than the way she’s been for the past seven and half years.
We got lucky, this we know. I am thankful every day, when I hear about what others have gone through, that our baby was healthy; that she was only born a month early and not two or three.
Not everyone is so lucky. We all know people. Friends, family, blogging buddies, whose kids needed help early on. Some were born way to early, some born on time, but they all needed medical intervention. Babies who weren’t supposed to make it, but did because of the miracle that is our medical society.
Years ago, a friend of my mothers had a baby boy who was born seven weeks early. He lived until his due date and then passed away. They didn’t know then what they know now. Maybe had he been born today, he’d be alive. No way to know for sure, but it’s definitely a possibility.
A lot of you probably read The Spohrs Are Multiplying. If not, you really should be, because Heather is a freaking crack up. Even funnier than her blog, are her Tweets. The girl regularly makes me shoot wine through my nose. Heather’s little baby girl Maddie was born early. Seriously early. And while she has some lung issues, she’s come a long way. You only have to look at her (and oh hey, you can, see below) to know she’s a miracle baby. Don’t you just kinda want to squish her? Maybe even buy her a pony?
Heather and her husband Mike are raising money for March of Dimes, by participating in a walk for babies in April. Because of Maddie and also because they seem to be nice people in general, they are dedicated to raising money for March of Dimes. To help babies like Maddie everywhere. They are really close to their goal, but I’d love for all of us to maybe help them exceed it. Even ten dollars would help. March of Dimes is a phenomenal charity that helps support parents of preemies, preemie babies and in general is trying to make it where all babies are born healthy. It’s a great cause.
For Maddie, I am not telling you about how I am dying of Strep throat right now. (Possibly for Maura as well, so she doesn’t throw a shoe at my head from California.) For Maddie, I am not telling you how after childbirth, this is the most painful thing I’ve even gone through. For Maddie, I did not post last night when I’d had a vicoden and some wine. Which really is good for all of humanity. I’m also not telling you about how I cried at 2am when Morgan came to me and said her throat hurt.
This post is for Maddie.
Three years ago I started a blog, called Issas World. (Now that I think about it, the name of this site: not so inventive.) I’d been reading blogs for a few months and had made semi-friends with a few of the lovely people whose sites I stalked daily. A couple of them convinced me to start my own site. One of them was Matthew, whose blog is called ChildsPlayx2. It’s called times two, because he has twins. Two beautiful twins: SweetPea and Monk, whose lives I’ve been blessed to witness for three years. They’ve grown from these teeny little butter bean babies to adorable, intelligent, funny little three year olds. I’ve always loved reading the beautiful, heartfelt, eloquent letters that Matthew writes to his children. (Maybe I should steal some and put them in my kids baby books. Kidding. Sort of.)
Three weeks ago, Matthew and the twins lives were changed forever. The rug was very swiftly pulled from under their feet. It’s not my place to go into details, as it’s his personal business. However, I will say, those little kids have an amazing father who will continue to do a great job raising them. I know they will turn out to be phenomenal people, no matter what happens, because they have him.
Now here comes the paying it forward thing. Matthew is an executive director of a YMCA in San Diego. His job is to help people; too help kids and families in need. Along with all of the programs that all YMCA’s do, (i.e. sports, teen groups, summer programs), they also provide childcare for low income families. Every year in February, Matthew organizes some sort of a fundraiser to raise money for his YMCA, because they don’t turn anyone away for not being able to pay. This helps make it where they can continue to help out families who desperately need assistance. I’ve heard him mention it for a few years now. However, this year, because of his current family situation, Matthew is behind in his fundraising goals. He has sent out an email and posted on his blog, asking for help.
He is in the process of setting up an Internet auction for a few weeks from today. The auction is for the blog world. He’s asking for anything we might be willing to donate that could be auctioned off. (Artwork, signed books, trips; are just a few ideas he listed.) All money made from the auction will go directly to the YMCA where Matthew works. Any donated item will be listed with your name and a link will be added to your blog. Any monetary donation made, is tax deductible and you will receive a letter on YMCA letterhead acknowledging your gift. The letter will have the Tax ID number on it as well. There are some items listed on his site that have already been donated, a few of which I plan on trying to bid on. A cruise for two? Dude, I am so there.
I know this economy sucks. I know people are just struggling to make it. I know everyone is asking for money. But I’ve also seen quite a few people talk about wanting to do something, although not knowing what. Something to try and help the world. Basically what I’m asking you for is help. Help for a friend of mine who is doing his very best to help the world.
Matthew spends his days trying to help kids and families in his community and his nights and weekends trying to help his kids be okay, to deal with what happened to his family a few weeks ago. Please help by paying it forward to a very deserving cause. I have nothing to donate, I’ve racked my brain, but I’ve come up empty. I can donate money and bid during the auction, this I am capable of doing and will do. But I thought I’d put this out there, to see if more people can help. To see if maybe one of you has something to donate, or even would just be willing to bid, when the time comes. Please, for me, at least think about it. Thank you.
PS. If you would like to just donate, I have the link for his YMCA.
Trust me, there will be more takes. We are hosting Thanksgiving next week. I’m looking at about 14-17 people for dinner. It makes me a bit giddy, but also a bit nervous. I volunteered, so that I wouldn’t have to travel with the baby. Having the youngest member of the family in the moment, has it’s major pluses. The drawback, is of course that I’m hosting Thanksgiving. Issa is a burner, not a cooker. I am a great baker, but not the best when it comes to cooking. On that front, luckily I’ll have help.
However, this is where you come in. I need to know your favorite Thanksgiving/Holiday food item. If you can link me to a recipe, even better. Although I am capable of opening the dozens of recipe books I own to find stuff, I need to know what stuff people prefer. My family is no help. They are all busy with their lives and just keep telling me, whatever you want will be fine. But me, I’m not that into Holiday food. If left up too me, we’d be having sushi and chocolate raspberry cake for dessert. But it’s not up too me. Not really anyway; so I need some ideas. The turkey has been ordered, but that’s about the only thing we have a handle on; since my step-dad is going to smoke it.
So please, for the sake of the babies, help a girl out. Thanks and hugs and baby kisses and stuff.
Grab My Button!
I’m a joiner
