The Art of Becoming

Today I made the worst mistake of my life.  That's dramatic, but those were the exact words going through my head earlier.  If I can be criticized for something, it would be that I believe myself to be Super Mom.  I believe that I can do most anything with my kids in tow.  I take them both to the grocery store, to doctor appointments (theirs and mine), to vote this past November, and both to the car dealership today.  Note to self: Super Mom should not take her kids to the car dealership.  It was a necessary thing - we needed to get the oil changed and the airbag light on the dashboard had been glaring red at me for weeks.  I have the car most days, so it followed that I was the logical person to go.  It was not, however, logical to take the kids.  Make no mistake, we are all still alive, but only barely. The mechanics had no more 90-minutes-you-wait-we-get-your-car-done appointments.  So I was left with the option of dropping the car ...

Her temper flares.  It's not hard to do - her brother gets in her face, and suddenly she's thrown her cereal bowl onto the green-carpeted floor.  The plush, expensive carpeting from the 1960s didn't ever expect to see the kind of love (read: damage) as it's seen from this family of four.  I gave Audrey a bowl for her milk and cereal, wishing to give her some more responsibility and independence than her usual sippy cup with a side of dry cereal on her tray.  She did great for awhile.  That was until Seancito decided he was done eating cereal and wanted to pick on his sister instead.  Then the cereal bowl ended up on the floor. Sean: (entering the kitchen with an honest look on his face) Mama, Audrey dropped her cereal on the floor. me: (walking between the kitchen and dining room) Audrey!  No!  You do not throw your food! Audrey begins whimpering.  It's a half-hearted whimper. Would this have been prevented had I seen it coming? ...

Sean has been taking a Sunday school class called Atrium.  For 90 minutes on Sunday mornings, he is without any other member of his family, so when we get back together, we question him about what he's learned. me:  Sean, what did you talk about in Atrium today? Sean: I'm not sure. me:  Did you talk about God? Sean: No. me:  Did you talk about Jesus? Sean: No. me: What did you do? Sean: We cut paper. He might not be listening, but he sure is enjoying himself!  The other day he was musing to himself in the backseat of the car while we drove, and then he piped up. Sean:  I really like my class on Sundays. me: That's great!  I'm glad you do.  What do you like about it? Sean: I like drawing pictures. Cutting paper and drawing pictures: that's about the gist of it.  I am not too hung up on him learning any huge tenants of the Catholic Church, but rather I like that the teacher introduces the kids to the idea of God and Je...

Some things are obvious. Some are not. Some things that are obvious to me are not so obvious to the kids.  And vice versa.  Such as - I leave the room for 2 minutes to use the restroom.  I keep the door open so that I can hear if anyone (read: Audrey) starts screaming for any reason (read: Sean tackling her).  When I come back from the restroom, I see that flash cards are strewn everywhere in the living room. me: What just happened in here? Sean: We had a party! Obviously. Or just after their bath, Audrey is dressed in her pajamas and ready to read books. Sean is still running around the house naked doing the 'happy donkey' dance.  He runs into the furniture, the walls, and then head-butts his sister.  Audrey begins crying. me: Sean!  I want you to come over here and say you're sorry to Audrey. Sean hides behind a chair.  As if this makes him invisible to me. me:  Sean.  I will only ask three times.  I've already...

This past weekend, I made homemade pizza dough.  Once mixed together, I set the bowl outside in the warm air to rise.  Tom was out in the backyard, mowing the lawn with Audrey in the backpack watching him closely. I was in the kitchen making dinner, and Sean the Cito was running around the backyard "mowing" the lawn with his pint-sized lawn mower.  Once tired of this activity, he walked up onto the deck and saw the pizza dough rising in the bowl.  He decided to open the plastic wrap, get a closer look, and stick his hands in.  Then he scooped some out.  Having figured out that this was a sticky, sticky mess, he immediately began scraping it on anything he could find: the deck, the lawn chairs, the table, under the table, etc.  When he exhausted all of these options, he then walked to the side of the house and scraped some dough on the siding.  It was only when he realized he couldn't get the dough off by himself that he eventually fessed up. ...

The other day we were at the YMCA and Sean agreed to use the potty before we left to run errands.  An unusual compliance from him, I applauded his self awareness. But then Sean began getting nervous as he surveyed all of the toilets. Sean: Which one can I use, Mama? me: Any one you want, buddy. Sean: Do the toilets flush by themselves? me: Yes, Sean, all of them do in here.  We talk about this every time. Sean: I don't like it when the toilets flush by themselves! This rigamarole.  We go to the YMCA a couple times a week, and he always worries about the same thing.  He doesn't like how loud the toilets sound when they flush, and his dislike is heightened by the fact that the toilets seemingly flush on their own accord.  I did not have much patience for this predictable exchange. me: I know you don't, but it's time to use the potty and then we need to go!  Come on - He slowly, ever so slowly, began pulling down his pants, bending over at the ...

Lady: That's disgusting. Husband: What? Lady: (to little girl) There is no way I'm letting you go in there! Girl: Why not? Lady: There is disease in there.  It's disgusting.  Disease and dirty diapers!  Do you know what happens to people who go in there?  They get sick.  Husband: (quietly) Really? Lady: (to little girl) There's NO WAY I'm letting you go in there! This was the conversation that occurred right next to us as we approached the splash-pad-esque-water-area at the Minnesota Zoo.  I had looked it up on the internet earlier that morning and saw that there was a water area with fountains and squirting water where the kids could play.  On a hot day, it seemed like the best place to be AND it's in the middle of the zoo.  Does it get any better than that?  He was so excited about the possibility, Sean wanted to wear his swim trunks and swim shirt TO the zoo.  I thought this was a great plan. Yet somehow we got stuck n...