The Art of Becoming

My brother Denis has a great line: "you can't hold what's not in your hand."  He uses this to refer to flatulence.  Ever the gentleman.  And it's been this thought that's come back to me again and again while changing poopy diapers (which I'm definitely holding in my hands) (I mean, not right now, but...), or while the kids are laughing about farting at the dinner table, or when Audrey is using farts as a means to insult someone. me: Audrey, please pick up that book you just threw and put it on the bookshelf. Audrey: Ok, poopy. me: Audrey, that's not nice.  Please pick up the book and choose different words when talking to people, especially me. Audrey: Ok, tooty. Uproarious laughter follows each of these name-calling episodes. We read a book recently where a villainous character called her sidekick/minion "Fatso".  Asmarter, quicker parent might have chosen to not read that word aloud.  I read the word outloud, and it has become

Last night my neighbor, whom I think the world of, said this to me, and I'm 8.5 months pregnant: Steve: Now I don't mean for this to sound.... me: Oh, God, here we go... Nervous laughter was shared by the group of us gathered for dinner. Steve: Well, I see you all the time, but for some reason, just now you are looking really pregnant . I laughed.  Because he's right: I do look really pregnant.  However, this is not something to say to me while I'm feeling large and in charge, as evidenced by the look on my husband's face when Steve said this.  Tom started slicing his pointer finger across his throat, eyes wide, panic setting in. Tom: Steve, Steve, stop now.  I have to deal with the fall out later. This post is not inspired by Steve's words, but rather they're the nail in the coffin.  I started this post a week or so ago, and Steve just pushed it to the top of my list.  I give you a trip down memory lane: things that have been said to me while

Audrey threw a huge tantrum last night before going to bed.  She didn't want to brush her teeth (nothing new), and then wanted to play with her cell phone instead of sitting down to read books.  Instead of listening to me as I asked her repeatedly to pick out a book, she walked over to the diaper pail - the place she knows grosses me out - and began hitting it with her cell phone.  I would not have put it past her to try to lick the diaper pail just to get a rise out of me.  After I counted to 5, a smile on her face the whole time, I took the cell phone and brought her away from the pail so we could read books.  She rebelled.  In the throws of her anger, she lunged and bit my thigh.  Then she landed in timeout. The tantrum that followed must have gone on for a solid 30 minutes.  This is out of character. When the tantrum first started, Sean didn't want her in the bedroom, citing that he would not be able to fall asleep with her screaming and crying like that. We removed Au

I made a prison break tonight.  Crazy because usually the ones to break out of prison are the prisoners, but here instead, I abandoned my role as Corrections Officer and headed for a coffee shop.  Why?  Because I can begin to feel trapped in my role as CO of the Bushlack household.  This comes in the form of constantly reminding (sometimes nagging, sometimes yelling at) the kids to do what I've requested. For example: me: No, you may not play by the toilet. Sean: We are just pretending to use the toilet. me: Yes, but you're still playing with the toilet, and now you need to wash your hands. OR me: Audrey and Sean, stop wrestling on the stairs. OR me: Audrey, take that box off your head if you're going to walk up and down the stairs. OR me: Please do not use that fork to comb your hair. Audrey: (grinning while lacing her blonde hair with peanut butter) I use it 'cuz I a silly girl. me: Right, and still I don't want you to use the fork in your

How is it possible that two seemingly opposite truths can hold the same space?  For example: why is it that we got 5 inches of snow a week ago, and then four days later it was 74 degrees?  And why is it, after reaping the benefits of a glorious weekend of weather (dare I say, summertime-feeling-weather?), there are predictions for snow tomorrow.  This means that two drastically different seasons of clothes are needed at practically the same time.  Which is why I'm scrounging the house for summer clothes for both kids while I can't bring myself to pack their snow pants away yet.  Some might call this paradoxical. I find a similar phenomenon exists in my children: how is it possible that I started the day reprimanding Sean, asking him to "turn his day around" with all the whining, crying, and shouting "NO!" only to have come through the morning with an incredibly well behaved kid?  Why is it that Audrey is sweet as can be and silently devilish while walking

We all have our fixations.  Mine is often the fixation of picking something out of the kids' noses, or wiping a runny nose, or getting Audrey's hair out of her face.  I'm constantly thinking about checking for poopy diapers, making sure Sean's pants are zipped, or watching Sean hold his crotch while trying to "keep the pee in."  I fixate on things like Audrey sucking on the child-size Crayola flossing tools because the package says for 3 year-olds and up (what awful things could happen to a 23 month old baby who's sucking on those things??).  I often can't get these fixations out of my mind. Other fixations are trivial, or at least I judge them to be so.  Sean fixates on the things he can participate in: helping to grind the coffee beans each morning, or unscrewing the milk cap from the gallon jug, where we place his tooth brush at night, or how he must have a glass of water and a towel before he even begins to brush teeth, or flushing the toilet.  Ye

As I begin a new year, I'm looking at my lessons learned.  There are so many. 1.  When telling friends that you'll meet them for Christmas Eve Mass, arrive a solid 35 minutes after you told them you'd arrive, so as to encourage the Christmas spirit in everyone. 2.  When attending said Christmas Eve Mass, make sure that your son's shoe is not all the way tied, so that he may lose the shoe outside in the snow and 13 degree temperature before ever making it inside the church. 3.  When the church is jam packed, and the ushers are telling you that even Standing Room Only is full, push past them and proceed to walk up and down the side aisles searching for your friends.  Friends who were saving you seats nearly an hour, fighting off old women who wanted those precious seats.  Also, while moving up and down the aisles, make sure you don't put your son's shoe back on so that everyone you pass may comment on "how cute" he is. 4.  When considering going