We went to a Murder Mystery Dinner for Halloween and Herb was a Grim Reaper and I was a Cyclops. We served dinner and solved the murder. It was great fun and all the couples really got into their parts and made it a fun evening.
Click on the pictures to see them up close and personal. We took the kids to the pumpkin patch despite the pouring rain. We rode a boat to the pumpkin patch and a train back from the patch. Herbie was in heaven on the train and playing in the mud puddles. He even slipped in a puddle and fell on his butt, stood up and just brushed it off. It was great fun!
Check out today's Travelin'Oma prompts.
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Don't do anything for your kids that they could do themselves.
This brought an instant smile to my face. And lots of memories. I would not doubt if the mother who first said this was my own.
The first memorable incident was when my Mom decided I was old enough to order for myself at restaurants. We were at a McDonalds and I was horrified. I remember staring at the girl behind the counter (Staring up. I must have been 4 or 5.) and then back at my Mom who was saying, "Well honey, if you'd like to eat something, you'd better order." I didn't order. I just couldn't. So I didn't eat. This happened at a few more family outings before I realized my Mom meant business. No one meant more business than my Mom. She was calm and kind but nothing was more final than her words. If she said I had to order my own food if I wanted any, she sure as hell meant it. She never gave in to anything and I'm so grateful for it.
After a few eating-out meals spent hungry, I started ordering my own food. It made me so proud. Isn't that the idea? Instilling self reliance and CONFIDENCE in our children?
The next really memorable item was nail clipping. I can remember the exact moment. And the words spoken... "It's time you learn to do this yourself, Alana. I know it's hard to use your left hand. But practice makes perfect. You'll see." I was mad. I was seven. If my Mom loved me she would help me clip and paint my right hand. If I had a nickel for every time in my life my Mom said to me Practice Makes Perfect. I am forever capitalizing that phrase.
As I grew into an adult I realized just how much confidence my Mother gave me. I grew into someone who feels self-assured in all situations. I can hold my own ground in any battle. I feel like I could do anything in the world if I wanted. All thanks to my Mom.
As I grew into a Mother I realized just what a pain in the ass all this teaching can be. It really is easier to do everything for them. (Would it not have been easier to just yell happymeal for me? Certainly easier than watching me squirm, then starve?) But doing everything for them is selfish. It's so funny to watch a toddler try to put on their clothes or take them off. The moment they don't know how to pull down their own pants is the moment you realize holy guacamole! somebody taught me how to pull down my own pants! AND climb up on the potty and go all by myself! All thanks to my Mom. (I can't tell her how many times that potty thing has come in handy.)
I love nothing more than watching my little girl gain confidence in herself. Seeing her accomplish things all on her own helps me gain confidence in myself -my parenting, and we both beam with pride.
You can imagine my delight when my now- 69- year-old mother came to me a few weeks ago and asked me to paint her toenails. I gave her the whole speech, memorized from a lifetime of listening to it... "Mom, I know you can't see your toes very well without your glasses but if you start relying on others to do these things for you now, you're going to slip into old age... Practice Makes Perfect."
Sage and I on a school field trip to the Pumpkin Patch.
Herbie in all his cowboy glory.
I can't breathe. For the last hour I have had this overwhelming completely consuming feeling that I'm running out of time. That I'm getting old. I swear I look different in the mirror this month. There are things: spots, wrinkles, chub. But more importantly, there are other things: things I haven't done yet. Haven't lived yet.
I want it to stop. I want to be young forever. I don't want to get old.
panic panic panic
Don't give me that crap about 30 not being old.
It has got to be just about the end of the world... and it's still 6 months away!
I'm so depressed.
I can't remember a more enjoyably 8 days. Especially the company of my family. We haven't all been together under other-than-tragic terms in quite a while. I've never been so relaxed. I completely forgot about the whole world and my brain felt thoroughly cleansed.Today's TravelinOma prompt.
I attended four high schools in three years. It didn't take me long to realize I could turn in the same papers at different schools. This was especially great when it came time to do those 10 page research papers. It seems I always find a way to do less work. It almost feels like less work finds me.
Today's TravelinOma made me realize I have already blogged about these things before:
The Chalice and the Blade
and Housebroken.
Maybe I'll even add to my old blogs with some fresh insight: polygamy.
Not the world's greatest idea but also not the worst. For instance: I don't tend to cook. I do it but sometimes have to force myself. Cooking doesn't find me. So perhaps wife #2 could be a chef? (Preferably ugly with a unibrow and undescended testicles.) And what about polyandry? When I first heard someone else had also invented this, (during a college literature class) I was elated. More husbands would be great and I won't tell you why.
I'm sick. Totally, utterly, devastatingly sick. I have been this way for days and days now. I refuse to get a sub, thinking it will abate- but it doesn't. It doesn't even get better. I haven't been sick for three years so I guess I'm making up for lost time.
Cruddy thing is- tomorrow I start teaching dance for the first time in two years and it's the last week before grades cut off for first quarter. What a completely crappy week(s) to be so entirely sick!
I attribute this illness to my job. I am convinced my job made me sick... no, not because public schools are a cesspool of germs, but because my job emotionally weakens my immune system. It's had it's fun using anxiety to mess with my psyche and now it's going for my physical well-being.
I'm convinced:
MY JOB IS OUT TO KILL ME!
I know you probably don't care about the day in the life of a toddler's potty training but I am so proud of Herbie that I wanted to share.
It has been almost a month since we started potty training Herbie. He was potty trained in a day. He goes to the bathroom all by himself, #1 and #2. He is hilarious because when he needs to go poop, he will sit on the toilet forever. Just like a guy. I ask him if he wants a magazine or book or something. Then I tell him to call for me when he is done because I don’t want to stand there and wait. He doesn’t like to wear diapers to bed at night but he isn’t quite ready for that step. He does get up in the middle of the night sometimes and wants to go pee in the toilet and not in his diaper. We went straight to underwear during the day and even let him wear underwear for nap time. If I would have known that he would be this easy, I would have started long ago. We attribute it to cloth diapers because the company told us that the cloth diapers help them to potty train a year earlier. We are believers. Herb and I joke that he is a 30 year old living in a 2 year old body. He is potty trained but can hardly speak. A couple days after he started wearing underwear, I found him wearing some on his head. He told me it was a hat. At least they were a clean pair.
Herbie and Sage, jumping on the trampoline.
Remember Travis? I had lost touch with so many of the Salt Lake boys but thanks to facebook, we have reconnected. This is why I am constantly advocating facebook. Nicole just joined and she will not regret it. I'm still waiting for Jon (yes, Jon!) to show up but so far only his wife is on there. Anyways, I just ordered my copy from amazon. You should order yours, too! Click here.
Anika is sick. It's so strange how she likes to just sit around when she's sick. She just wants to watch her same shows over and over and it's the one time I don't feel guilty about it because she needs her rest. The good news is that her favorite movie is also my favorite movie... yes, I let my two year old watch The Three Amigos. I used to try and fast forward some things but she would just scream "El Guapo, I want El Guapo!" Strange little cookie. It sure is shaping up to be a fun weekend.
Everyone has their own El Guapo.
