Competitive

I'm learning a great deal about myself these days. Not all of it good. Apparently, I am a sexist and a hypocrite. Great!!!That being said, I'll begin to explain the events that have lead up to this great revelation. I'm sure I will lose a few style points on this one, but after all, recognizing the problem is the first step to recovery. A little background: I am a married, mother of 3( 2 boys/1 girl), thirty-something, former college athlete. My oldest is playing tackle football for the first time this year. He is the second biggest kid on the team and what they call a "striper" (he has a stripe on his helmet that indicates he is too big to run the ball for fear he might kill/maim someone). The problem is he runs like Shaggy off of Scooby Doo, but slower. He has an unbelievably tender heart and does not have an agressive bone in his body. I get so frustrated with him just out there messing around. I cannot watch practices because I'm afraid I will be charged with "facemasking" or "unnecessary roughness". It has brought out this primal instinct in me. I have to fight every urge not to yell, "Come on!" and "Hustle". The 'h' word is not in the vocabulary. I'm not one of those parents who thinks my son is going to be my meal ticket and get a college scholarship (this pretty much confirms it), but I do expect my children to give 100% effort. My mother-in-law was at one of my son's football games and was talking about how much my youngest son loves to dance and sing (he's 2). She said that we should think about putting him in tap dancing or ballet. I muttered under my breath (or so I thought) "Over my dead body!" She was appalled and called me a sexist. She explained to me that there is nothing effeminate about tap dancing and ballet. I have a male friend who does clogging, which is similar but he doesn't use "jazz hands". I have never once considered clogging effeminate. I also know a couple of male ballet dancers and I don't think they are effeminate. I'm not sure what my problem is. The third and most condemning piece of evidence came about earlier this week. My husband and I were watching, "America's Got Talent". The performer was a male baton twirler. Impressive, yes. Would I want my son to take it up? No.
Now comes the reason I'm a hypocrite. I played on the boy's baseball team in high school because my school did not have a fast pitch softball team and I wanted to play in college. I never once thought that anyone would question my femininity/sexuality.
Before I lose all style points, I will clarify this for you. I love my children intensely and will not be disappointed if they choose music/art over sports. As long as they don't pick up a baton. Unless it's in the 400M relay!

My Songbird

Anyone who has a child who puts her life to song will appreciate this. My 5 year old daughter spends most of her days pretending and playing and making up songs to go along with whatever she is doing. It truly is a delight. But, as with anything that happens day after day, it can also get somewhat annoying. I tune out most things. This past weekend, we stopped off at the local hardware store. It was a quick trip, so my husband went in alone while we waited in the car. A minivan pulls up beside us. Out comes an elderly gentlemen about as round as he was tall. The song she was currently singing was interrupted by, "I don't think that man is gonna fit in that door!"(set to music of course). It took every fiber of my being to not bust out in laughter!

Funny Freckles in Black & White

Some of my friends are emailing back and forth funny things their children say. I love reading them. It gets me thinking, "do my kids ever say anything funny?" Then I think, "everything they say is funny!" Anyway, here are a couple good ones:

My oldest who is almost 8:

We've been watching the old Star Wars movies with him and getting out all of the old school action figures. I was telling him about one of the movies we hadn't watched together yet. I was so excited to talk with him about something that I was also interested in. Halfway through the conversation, he looks up at me and says, "Mom, were you alive in the gray and white?" Translation: Were you alive when there was no color in the world and everything was black and white?

My five year old daughter:

We were outside playing and she was sitting in the grass. Some little gnats were flying around and landing on her and then taking off again. She said to me, "Hey, one of my freckles is flying around!!".

Too cute!

Bedtime Prayers

I love to listen to my daughter pray. She is my only child who likes to pray "with words". Meaning she likes to pray out loud. My oldest likes to pray "without words" because God knows what he's thinking. My daughter holds nothing back when she prays. This was her prayer tonight: "Dear Lord, Thank you for this day. Please keep us safe from the lightning. Please love us. Please, please help us. Please help my Mommy and Daddy to be nice. In Jesus name, Amen." After she finished, I asked her, "Do you think that Mommy and Daddy are mean?" She replied, "Sometimes. And sometimes your nice." If you want the truth, ask a five year old.

Exercising Creative Authority

Yesterday I was ironing in the hallway and listening to my children playing in the next room. Those who know me will be questioning the veracity of this post because I began with, "I was ironing". Anyway, the kids were playing "Rescue Heroes". My oldest son has every one ever made and they were all on the kitchen floor. This particular episode of Rescue Heroes was sort of like Barbie meets Rambo. My oldest son (OS) was a fire chief named, "Billy Blazes". My daughter (D) was a dolphin named, "Nemo". My youngest son was, well, no one. This is how the conversation went. (Names have been left out to protect the innocent)
OS: "We've got to get out of here! Everyone get on the boat. There are sharks everywhere!"
D: "I'm not a shark, I'm a dolphin! I won't hurt you."
OS: "C, dolphins can't talk!"
D: "Oh, yes I can. I'm a talking dolphin.
OS: (moving on) "Lookout! There's a bomb in the boat!"
D: "We'll get out, but first...(breaking into song) "Do you want to go to Splashin' Safari, Splashin' Safari, Splashin' Safari)
OS: (obviously frustrated) "C!"
While this is going on, my youngest son is saying, "I want Nemo, I want Nemo, I want Nemo, I want Nemo" over and over and over and....you get it.
This reminded me of my childhood and how bossy I was with my sisters. Every last detail had to be true to life. There was no room for creativity. If you want to be creative, go play elsewhere. I was the child who never wanted a purple teddy bear. Bears weren't purple. They were white, black, or brown. My dolls had to be dressed and their hair combed. None of these ratty little hooligans with messy hair and no clothes. Dolphins certainly didn't talk.

I did enjoy listening to these funny kids. I'm amazed at how different they are. I am glad that God created them to be exactly who they are. I am so glad that God has a plan for all of our lives and that no two look the same. I am glad that my sisters still love me even after my reign as Playroom Dictator.

A Mere Observation

I only subscribe to one magazine, "Family Fun", but I do get hand-me-downs from my husband's office and a couple from his grandma. I've discovered that the editors of women's magazines really have a pretty low opinion of the American woman. According to them we:

• Are Overweight
• Are Lousy parents
• Are Bad with money
• Love to eat
• Messy
• Need help with our intimate life

You need not even open the magazine. It's all laid out for you right on the cover. "Get your Body Beach Ready in 5 Days!", "How to Behave So Your Children Will", "6 Steps to Financial Freedom", "Get Your Closet Organized in 7 Minutes", "Dinner in under 30 minutes" and the last topic will remain undiscussed as this blog is rated for general audiences. All this surrounding the "average" American Supermodel. My personal fave is the one on the cover of a fitness magazine that says "Bikini's for Every Body Type" . You open it up and every model has washboard abs. Somehow, my body type wasn't included in "every". But, I digress. I am just simply amazed at how they sell these magazines month after month. They are the exact same thing with different pictures! They put the articles about money right in the midst of all of these ads. They put the ab workout at the beginning and all of the delectable recipes at the end. But I'm on to them. I'm sure that the title, "If you Don't Have the Cash, Put it Back" wouldn't sell magazines. After all we're spending our hard-earned money buying the same magazine over and over each month!

On Butterflies and Birds

In one of my earliest posts, I made mention of a mental list I keep of questions that I will ask God when I get to Heaven. I thought of a new one the other day when my son was giving me the butterfly tutorial. His first grade class raised "Painted Lady" butterflies from eggs. I was at school the day they released the new creations. It was so cool to see these butterflies whirl around and land on one of the kids noses. They all giggled with glee. God is so creative. My son was telling me all about these butterflies on the way home. He informed me that these butterflies are poisonous to birds. If the birds eat them, they will die. This got me thinking (lookout!). This is pretty much a lose-lose situation. The butterfly gets eaten, the bird dies. There are no survivors to warn others of the impending danger. I imagined in my mind a Gary Larson cartoon (The Far Side) of birds standing around looking at a warning poster with a bird with x's over his eyes laying under a half eaten butterfly. So this question really is on behalf of my son and his concern for the birds. How do birds know not to eat the butterflies?