I Didn't Do It!

My life just flashed before my eyes.  Who would have thought a death trap would involve a phone, some jelly beans, a puddle of water, and of course three children starting at the TV?

It really is my fault. I had the nerve to answer the phone.  I always joke my mother calls at the most inopportune times.  Apparently the jokes on me. I heard the phone ringing from the other room, so I peak into the family room and see that the caller ID is flashing my mother's phone IN BIG PRINT on the television. The same television that my three children are huddled around even though the sound is blasting. I scream for someone to pick up the phone ( they know my mother's number, so no stranger danger here). No answer.

So I run for the phone, which incidentally, is parked right next to the tv!

Bad idea. Someone had spilled water and jellybeans all over the floor ( tile by the way) as I was dashing barefooted for the phone.  Luckily I was able to slide the rest of the way to answer the phone before mom hung up and tried my cell causing me to make a mad dash in the other direction.

Instead of "Hello?" This is what mom heard.
" WHAT IS ALL OVER THE FLOOR? WHO DID THIS?"

Mom said "Hello, you sound a bit overwhelmed" (understatement of the day)

At this point I hear my smart alecs answer the first question though it was a bit rhetoric.
"Jellybeans and water."

"I KNOW THAT! WHAT HAPPENED? WHO DID THIS?  WHY DID YOU NOT CLEAN THIS UP?"

I got three "Not me's". The one of my children sweetly gave me the explanation as to why no one bothered to move a muscle to clean up the sticky/wet death trap (or even warn me).

"Mazel did it."  Mazel is the dog.

::HEADPOUND::

A noisy Morning is A good Thing

I know I must be doing a good job, right now I have an almost eleven year old rampaging through the house and a four year old crying hysterically. Why? Because I am just being "mom"!  It all started when the tween woke up this morning. Almost immediately she wanted to go outside to wash my car ( aka play around with the hose). She was adamant that I had given her permission yesterday. What I really said was" maybe", but what she heard was "as soon as you wake up even if I haven't had my coffee or done any of my household chores." So thus began the whining and stomping around the house, made worse of course, with the suggestion that she actually help with my chores to speed things up.

About five minutes later, the aforementioned tween, decided it was the optimum time to reopen the issue of her getting a cell phone when she goes to middle school.  Really?  She should actually be happy with the recent turn of events regarding this matter. Her father and I have decided that since she will be attending middle school without her twin ( who will be going to a private school more suited for her disability) and will be riding the school bus, we will get her a limited access phone ( no texting) that will be pre-programmed with all the important family numbers. 

"But how will I talk to my friends? ( said in an escalating tone)
"You can still use the house phone to talk to your friends." ( said in a calm even tone)
"But I already told my friends I was getting a real phone!" ( higher pitched with a defiant tone)
"You are getting a real phone." ( I am very proud of how calmly I said this)

"Arrgh..hrumph...ahhhh" :: stomp, stomp, slam!::

At this point all I want is my cup of coffee and to finish this mornings crossword. However, my littlest "tween-in-training" had other ideas. She was walking around the house carrying and eating her bagel with cream cheese so I told her to sit at the table and eat.  She apparently has selective hearing like her older sisters and ignored me. I said it again, this time a little louder and with firmness. She sat down, and about two minutes later (deftly applying the delayed, built-up to hysterical method) she is sobbing because "mommy yelled at me". 

Cue my husband running, not walking, off to the office. ( I am pretty sure there was a lightness to his step as he headed for the door)

Ironically I would be just as worried if it was a peaceful morning, sometimes the quiet can mean a great deal worse. That story I will save for another time, but let's just say I had to give the dog and a child lots of washings to repair that damage.
 
So, as all good parents should, I know where my children are.  Screaming and crying in the other room while I sip my coffee and finish this impossible crossword.

Mom Moments

This Mother's day marks a full decade of motherhood for me. These ten years have gone by in whirlwind, okay more like a tornado, but I still have at least one toe touching the ground so I think I am going to be okay for the next ten years. In honor of mothers everywhere ( and to help them feel better about themselves), I am going to post two of my most memorable "mom moments". 

Wardrobe Malfunction
Back when my twins were around the age of two years old, they were absolutely gaga over The Wiggles ( imagine the Beatles for toddlers). Being the perfect parents ( a.k.a. new parents), we just had to buy tickets to see them in concert. At this time The Wiggles were still playing smallish type venues and we had excellent seats.  Upon my research, I found that if you brought roses to the show,  all of the Wiggles would go out into the audience and collect roses for Dorothy The Dinosaur ( her favorite snack).  While Dorothy was singing and dancing on stage, Jeff the purple Wiggle danced over to our row and began collecting roses. My husband was holding Hannah and I was holding Rachel. As I turned and Rachel saw who was standing in front of us, she got super excited. Rachel was practically jumping out of my arms. She got so excited she was yanking on my shirt and bra, and yes, she yanked them DOWN! To this day, I  am probably the only concertgoer ( over the age of three) who has flashed the Wiggles.  So yes, I have been to some wild concerts in my day!

The Pit
Danger lurks everywhere for parents, we are always careful when crossing the street with our children or walking in the mall.  Unfortunately danger can rear it's ugly head in unexpected places, for me it was the foam pit at the local gymnastics center for children.  I went for the first time upon a recommendation of a fellow mom who raved about the three dollar free play they offered in the afternoons. I took the twins who were about three at the time and everything was great, they were having fun until we encountered the foam pit. 

A foam pit is a pit filled with foam. scraps of thick, bouncy, stinky, dirty, foam (most likely never cleaned after hundreds of tiny children had been wallowing in it). The bottom of the pit is quite deep and springy. It is so springy that there is really no traction to the bottom. Children rarely touch the bottom as they are light enough to bounce around the top, this is not so true for overweight moms.  Hannah had jumped in the pit, but was too scared to work her way out, so I jumped in without a thought to help her out.  Upon rescuing my child and passing her up to another helpful parent I proceeded, or tried to proceed, my way out of the pit. After a few useless attempts to "swim" to the side it became apparent that I was stuck.   My children of course noticed my predicament and started to cry. This of course brought me to the attention of everyone around me! Children were gawking, parents were staring and probably glad it was me and not them, a few nice people tried to give me pointers on what and where to grab onto to get out. This all only prompted my daughters to cry even louder. Finally after willing the strength of God, and fearing the image of the Coral Springs Fire Rescue hauling me out on the 6 O'clock news, I managed to get out with the help of a few strong men. Needless to say, we never went back there again.

Happy Mother's day and if you happen to ever run into Jeff the Purple Wiggle , send him my regards. I am pretty sure he remembers me.

My "Other" Child

Yesterday Hannah told me she sometimes wonders what it is like to be someone else. I was super excited to hear this because it means one of the big lessons I am trying to teach my children is starting to sink in, empathy.  I always try talking to them about "the other persons view", it is important that they learn to think about others besides themselves.  Rachel has a more difficult time with this concept, as someone on the autistic spectrum it is a big leap to jump into another persons shoes when half the time she is still searching for her own pair. My little one, Shayna, is still in preschool.  She is still blissfully enjoying the fact, at least in her mind, the world revolves around her.  So when Hannah shared with us her thoughts on how important it is to think about others, I beamed with pride.

The odd thing is that though she is compassionate and gentle towards other peoples circumstances, I find the exact opposite in the home. I think I have Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde living under my roof!  Maybe it is a "tween" thing, but when we are out she is the poster child of good manners and compassion yet when we enter the privacy of our own home she begins to contort and writhe thus being transformed into what can only be described as "scary"!

Jekyll Hannah is fantastic, she helps with her sisters when we are out, she gets raves from all her teachers, and often is lauded on how well she speaks to adults.  I could not be more proud of Jekyll Hannah. However, when Hyde Hannah comes out, beware. She will antagonize her sisters, and demand immediate tasks from mom and dad. The other day she wanted me to paint her nails, It was seven in the morning and I hadn't even finished my cup of coffee. When I agreed to do it later the Hyde Hannah came out in full force. I am pretty sure there were physical formations, she became more hunched over with eyes bugging out. If it were not for her braces I think her teeth would have gone crooked as well!

I have been sorely tempted to record Hyde Hannah one day to show to Jekyll Hannah, but I am afraid this might actually encourage Hyde Hannah to make her presence known. So, until her two personalities morph into one ( hopefully Jekyll will win this battle) I am constantly on guard for the "transformation".  The first sign of a "change" appears in the eyes (think Incredible Hulk), then she will begin to huff and puff ( it must be hard on the body), and finally there is a full on crazed mode. At this point she is often sent to her room, I don't usually get to witness the change back to Jekyll Hannah. 

Is this a phenomenon among tweens? Do other Tween Jekyll and Hydes exist? We really cannot know how many walk amongst  us.  I propose a support group,  H.E.L.L. (Hyde Epidemic Let Loose).

That's "Mrs" to You!

 The other day I had to run an errand. It was right after I picked up the kids from school and I was rushing to get to the hardware store. I had forgotten to pick up a sprinkler pump for our sprinkler system and our repairman was already waiting for me at the house.  I was way behind schedule, so I sucked it up and dragged all three girls along with me.

To make it faster I squeezed my 4.5 year old into the child seat of a shopping cart thus making my supervisory role much easier and our trek down the aisles much faster. She was thankfully happy not to have to walk, unlike her sisters who whined the whole way through the store.

Upon locating the plumbing section, I found everything having to do with sprinklers except the pump itself which ironically was located in a different section.  More groans from the unwilling participants ensued.  I was getting frustrated and ended up asking for help from the nice young man who worked at the store. He saw my motley crew and very graciously told me what a blessing my children were. I must have really looked like I needed convincing because he really kept hammering the point about my beautiful children.  It was nice of him to say, but I really just wanted the darn sprinkler pump.

He continued to be very attentive to us and even helped lift the extremely heavy pump into the cart. At this point Shayna, my four year old, must have picked up on how attentive and nice he was being to me ( really he was just doing his job and doing it well) because the next words out of her mouth were "MY MOMMY IS MARRIED!" as she grabbed my arm and yanked it towards her in what could only be interpreted as possessive.

Thankfully the hardware man continued to be very nice and gracious as his reply was, " I am sure your mommy and daddy love each other very much". This prompted lots of "uh huhs" and a rapid affirmative shaking of her head.  She went on to tell him that we go on dates and kiss.  I was trying my best not to loose it it with nervous laughter and slight embarrassment over this odd discussion my four year old was having with the hardware clerk. 

I told my husband later that evening not to ever worry when I am out with the kids, because apparently, I have my very own chaperone!

I Am Her Mother

An open letter to to the lady at the mall ( you know who you are).

Dear ignoramus a.k.a dumb lady,

I heard you loud and clear. I heard you above the screaming of my child ( she was quite loud) in the noisy food court. If you happen across this blog, you know who you are. You are the person who said to her friend " If that were my daughter..."  You might remember me because I actually stopped for a second at your table looked you in the eye and proudly stated " That is my daughter and she is autistic."

I really should have said more, but I was hurrying to get to her and help calm her down.  My husband was there trying to calm her and deal with the other two, and frankly, my family is much more important than you. but now I have the time, and the words to say what I wanted to say at that moment.

Thank God, she is not your child! Thank God she is my child! I hate to think how awful her life would be with a woman like you as her parent.  Throughout my time as her mother I have heard people tell me how fortunate Rachel is because I "get it", because I was an special education teacher long before I was a mother and am equipped to be her parent.  I have often doubted this insight because parenting is tough, and nothing can really prepare you for being a mother. However, you have helped me to really see that Rachel is better off with me as her mom. Not because I have a degree in special education, but because I am able to see past people like you who judge. I can look you in the eye and proudly state , "I am her mother, and I am a damn good one too!"

I can now take the time to tell you how stupid you looked to other people in that food court who understood what was really happening. They saw how I was able to calm her down in seconds by giving her a bear hug and helping her cover her eyes and ears to the sensory chaos that she was experiencing.  They saw my four year old sitting patiently while I tended to Rachel's needs. They saw you fussing and fretting over something that lasted all of 30 seconds.

Twenty minutes later, as my family was finishing up at the table, an extremely nice women and her teenage son came over to tell us what a beautiful family we had and how crazy you were.  Can you believe that? My 10 year old daughter screams at a mall, and you are the one who ends up looking awful.

Thank God you are not her mother.

signed,
her mother

Growing Pains

Once upon a time, I was happy to have given birth to three girls. When they were babies I felt that I had dodged the huge stress of dealing with a Bris ( Jewish circumcision ceremony) and I never had to deal with "getting hosed" while changing a diaper.  As they have grown, I have discovered the downside to being a mother to girls.  When we are out to dinner, it is mommy who takes the girls to the bathroom. They never have to go at the same time. I always ask "anyone else have to go?" before escorting the one child, only to find when I get back that another one has to go.  This cycle repeats itself constantly throughout the meal!

Now that my twins are getting closer and closer to "womanhood" I have had several talks with them. We have gone bra shopping, discussed the changes in their bodies, and our most recent talk included preparing them for their first periods.  I always tell them they can ask me anything, but inside I am screaming "No! Don't ask that!"  When I was a kid, I was a bookworm.  My mother gave me a book about growing up and I read it cover to cover. This was enough for me, I don't remember asking so many questions!  And I have given them books, but of course they then have questions about the books.  Maybe because it was a one on one situation for me with my mom as my sister was older and already was dealing with puberty by the time it was my turn for "the talk".  Not me, I have two girls peppering me with questions, asking questions off of each others questions! Through all of this I am doing my best to pretend that I am "cool" with the questions.

I know through all of this my husband is sitting back with his fingers in his ears saying "LA LA LA",  Content with the knowledge that this is my role as "mom".  I bet he is relived that we have all girls and can just run and hide when I have to have these talks with the girls.

 That's okay, because I have already decided, and I believe I have earned this decision.  When they turn 15, HE IS TEACHING THEM HOW TO DRIVE!

The Mall

I miss the stroller.  I am happy that Shayna is getting older but yesterday we went to the mall. It was me and the three girls.  Shayna is really too big for the stroller, yet she is still small enough that I do not trust for a second to let go of her hand. A stroller is also ideal for hanging bulky bags and placing drinks that your children no longer wish to carry. Add to that Rachel and Hannah. They are almost 11 so you would think that walking around the mall would be no big thing, but Rachel has Asperger's. This means that she is easily drawn away by something that takes her fancy and is prone to wander. She is also hard to get moving if she does not want to do something or wants to go another direction. As a result, I become a boot camp sergeant at the mall.

The first stop we made was the shoe store, all three girls needed sandals and both Shayna and Hannah had outgrown their sneakers. You would think that this would be no problems, however, the way that the store is set up, all three girls sizes are spread out in three different aisles, but we managed. At the check out I specifically told the clerk to keep the boxes as I would be walking around the mall and didn't want the bulk. I guess she was too busy chewing her gum, and I was too busy keeping the girls from playing with all the accessories they sell at the counter and in my line of vision to realize she did not have the ability to chew gum and comprehend what I said simultaneously.  There was a long line behind me so I just grabbed the two bulky bags, fixed all the stuff my four year old was playing with and left. 

Next the department store to buy a new training bra for Hannah.  Macy's used to have just one store in the mall.  Now they have a whole store for women and another store at the other end of the mall for men, children, and home stuff.  I decided we were better off going to to the lingerie department (plus it was closer). Hannah disagreed. When we got to the department I asked if they carried training bras and she said no, I should check out the other Macy's at the other end of the store.  Hannah them loudly turns to me "See! I told you so!"  The clerk gives me what I am sure is a look of sympathy because that is the moment Rachel decides to loudly comment (inappropriately, of course) on some of the more interesting types of underwear while Shayna is trying to get my attention to discuss the size of my breasts and determine which of the bras on display I should buy.

I usher them out of that department and made the mistake of stopping at the make-up counter to replace my face powder that I have used down to the last particle.  Apparently Shayna really likes Clinique's display make-up. 

At this point there was no way I was dragging my motley crew down to the other side of the mall. I found a "tween" store that sold the size bras we needed.  While at the store Shayna wandered a little too far and I could not see her, I panicked and yelled at her when she peeked into my view half a second later. This caused her to cry the entire time during check out. 

Finally, I thought, we were finished! But It was close to dinner time and I had bribed Rachel and Shayna to behave with a rare treat of dinner in the food court.  Normally I would relish the thought of not having to cook, but the food court means lots of choices.  They all wanted something different. So the drill sergeant in me organized a plan.  We would stop at each of the three places and get it all "to go" rather than balance three different trays and four bulky shopping bags.  Hannah helped with some of the bags so I could carry the food bags as they increased at each stop.

We settled in at the tiny tables and chairs they set aside for kids. I really didn't care that my knees did not fit under the table or that my ass was hanging way off the sides of the chair. I made it.  We were so close to leaving I was able to relax thinking it was easy sailing from here on, I was mistaken.

Shayna made a little friend sitting at the table next to her. The little girl was her age and came over pulling up a chair next to Shayna. I thought it was so cute! Her parents were right behind us and we were enjoying watching and listen to the two preschoolers introduce themselves and have an adorable conversation. Until...

Shayna was telling the little girl about her family. Her sisters and her mommy and daddy.  On Sunday, Ira and I had gone out for a date night without the girls, it was the first such night in a long while.  Shayna proceeded to tell this little girl that her mommy and daddy went on a date. This is pretty much how the conversation went.

"My mommy and daddy went on a date, and they did this"
Shayna began to make small fists and was bumping them together in what looked like and obscene gesture in front of her!

The little girls father was at this point cracking up.

"what?!?" I said to Shayna,  "Are you talking about?"
"This mommy", and she repeated the gesture.
Then she said to the little girl, with a giggle "they kissed."
Of course, the gesture was her mommy and daddy kissing. Still, it was rather embarrassing.  I went five shades of red and tried to laugh it off!  The girls dad was really cracking up at this point.

This is when I cleaned up our mess, smiled politely at the little girls parents, and left dragging kids, bundles, leftovers, and a various assortment of drinks.

I miss the stroller.

Rinse and Repeat

It is a really good feeling when you can get your house in order. This weekend, I cleaned, dusted, swept, and mopped the floor. I was extremely proud of myself. The house looked good...for five minutes.  I told the girls not to move from their respective spots as the floor was drying, but Hannah was hungry. She slipped on the way back to the table after getting her lunch, food everywhere. After the floor was sparkling (again) Shayna spilled her juice.  Then Rachel walked around the house eating various things until I caught her, but not before much of it hit the floor. Soon after, the dog did her usual spot rotation around the house leaving tumbleweeds of fur floating on my pristine tile making me feel like we lived at the OK corral.

In addition to the floor being instantly mucked up, I find mysterious trinkets and toys laying around the house. I say they are mysterious because whenever I ask the girls to pick them up, I am told by all three, that they "didn't do it" or the mess is "not theirs".  Apparently I have faeries residing in my house as well as three daughters, a furry dog, and a well meaning husband. 

It seems like my house is one giant shampoo bottle; rinse, repeat.  I think I am going to take the day off from cleaning and let the fur fall where it may. A nice long soak in a hot bath sounds delicious.

Wait, the tub needs to be cleaned....

An Ode to Dr. Seuss

It is apparent that a parent has much to learn and grow

Tots become tweens and know that they always know!

Sneeches turn to screeches and oncelers become one-ups

We balance more than a fish bowl, an umbrella, and a few cups.

One no, two nos, then maybe a yes

A perfectly patient parent is always under press.

Mood swings, mood rings, and moody snooty tweens,

Once I found a snoot-a-lot among my daughter’s things.

Oh the places we go and the new things we juggle,

Here is why we struggle;

Piled high atop the drama ,

 way above the rest

are classes, sasses, and puppy love by the masses;

We really are just doing our best!

So if you wonder why we seek

Refuge from a crazy week

Just look inside our house and take a peek

On second thought, just close the door

Back away a little more

Turn and run (left foot, left foot, left foot, right)

I wish to spare you such a fright!