Category: Laverne

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Half-Pint Post: WaNtEd

MamaKat has sent out her weekly Almost World Famous Writing Prompts.  This week I choose: It’s hot, the kids are home and crazy, our pets are panting, the days are long…share your number one Summer Survival Tip.  Of course I went right to work looking for the perfect Mommy Summer Survival Trip.  I came across this newspaper want ad  {wink, wink}…

I am lucky enough to be a SAHM for three months out of the year.  And while I am very aware of it during the months I work, my “Summer Survival Tip” becomes more valuable during June, July and August… TIME!!!

Don’t get me wrong, I would love to sit on the couch, watch TV, Tweet, Facebook, blog read and write the day away or even sit on the porch reading more then a paragraph without being interrupted only to have to reread it because I forgot what it said! 
On the days I am able to be fully present, on their level, belly to the floor, knees full of chalk the whine factor (their whining, not my need for it… well that too), need for warnings, limits or consequences significantly lessens.  
I would still love to sit on the couch, watch TV, Tweet, Facebook, blog read and write the day away or even sit on the porch reading there are also days where I actually have to do house work, laundry, dishes, make meals (no comment hubs… not the best house keeper, but becoming a better cook).
TIME continues to be my Summer Survival Tip… my secret weapon. A moment in the kitchen table coloring with Francine elbow to elbow, the warmth of a head on my shoulder as I read Junie B. Jones to Olivia, the peek of a smile as I look up with star sun glasses and a hot pink boa on… Time is my Summer Survival Tip and it is absolutely priceless.

                                                                                        

                                                                                           
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Just on Time. Never Late.

6:00 am
Up bright and early. That is my way.

7:00am
I got a great run in and Olivia and Francine were still a sleep. Bonus. I filled the pot with water and added two scoops of grinds. Soon I would be enjoying warm, coffee goodness.
“Moommmy I’m aaaawaaake!”, I hear from the monitor.
“MOMMYY I’M A-WAKE!”, I hear from the other monitor.
And here we go.

7:30am
It was play date day and as per our usual routine Holly and I had not quite decided what we wanted to do with the girls today. Typical. We would figure out something to do. Only hitch this day… she had to be some where at 1:30. No word from Holly.

7:45am
Second cup of coffee in my belly. Girls were on the couch watching TV and I was on the computer. I started to think to myself. I probably should start to get in the shower. I probably should do something to start to get ready. If Holly calls (well, actually texts) and is ready to go I won’t be ready.

8:00am
“How about the zoo”, the text reads.
What a great idea I think.
“Meet at 9:15.”, the next text reads.
Who is she kidding! No way I’ll be ready, pack lunches, get all of us in the car and drive to the zoo by 9:15. I offer 9:45 as a time to meet and it is agreed. We will meet at 9:45.

8:15am
With a little help from Francine and Olivia lunches are made. At least one thing I needed to do is done.

My skype starts to ring. It’s Shirley. I tell her I only have 10 minutes to chat. 10 real minutes, not 10 Shirley and Laverne minutes. Who the hell am I kidding.

8:40am
25 minutes later I’m barking out orders to Olivia and Francine.

“Pick out your clothes. Then get dressed. Mommies going to get in the shower.”

Francine, “Mommy can I sit on your bed? I won’t jump!”

“Ok!”

9:05
Out of the shower. Took me extra long. Sucks when you decide to wear shorts and then you realize that you haven’t shaved your legs in a couple of days. Shaving legs… not a time saver.

Surprise, surprise the girls are actually dressed! Yeah us!!!

9:20
Hair is done, mommy is dressed, lunches are packed, girls are dressed and pottied. One thing left… I probably should feed them breakfast. No time.

9:25
The award winning mommy I am… I stop for coffee and they get to have donuts. Thank goodness I at least didn’t have to stop for gas. That is generally my luck. I decide to text Holly to let her know that we are running late. She lets me know that they are just leaving their house. She’s running later then I am.

Driving to the zoo I think of my husband. Boy if he was with us this would drive him crazy. My mind drifts to the post I wrote: Misplaced, never lost. I think ya know: Just on Time, Never Late. would make another great post idea.

10:05
We make it to the zoo. I get the girls and our backpack out of the car. My friends car drives up. Who am I kidding…. I love to think I’m just on time. I’m Late!!

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When Does it Begin? What will I Say To Her?… Reflections from The Pool

The sun is shining. Thank god we finally have a real summer day. 90 degrees, dry air, so hot if you are not at the pool you are not outside. Olivia, Francine and I head to the pool. This is definitely the summer I get to see if they finally have what it takes to hang at the pool. Wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, pack a lunch, swim, eat lunch and swim some more until it is dinner time, hang at the pool.

Bathing suits were everywhere. Duh we were at the pool. You know not many of us actually look good in a bathing suit. We can only be lucky enough to find a bathing suit that will hide some of our flaws. A suit that will hide just enough of our flaws so we feel good enough about ourselves to be at the public pool.

Still more bathing suits. Some of them really cute. Some of them really cute, but not cute or even flattering on the person wearing it. You know there are only a hand full of women that after say 30 and/or kids look good in a bikini. I often wonder do they know how they look in that suit? Is their body image off? Do they just want to wear the suit because they like it and they do not care how it looks on them? Doesn’t anyone that loves them tell them it is not flattering on them?
Bathing suits and body image began to make me think. Bathing suit shopping is never easy. My girls still have their boy like figures, no curves, still a baby fat pooch that comes and goes with each growth spurt. Never do we have to give a second thought in how they will look in the suit only what is the cutest one we can find. What would I say to one of my daughters if they were not so trim? When will my girls start to worry about how they look in a swim suit? What do moms say to their girls when they reach that stage when the baby fat starts to impact how clothes fit? How do moms balance ensuring their girls have a healthy self image but educate their young girls on what looks best on their body type?
Olivia: “Mommy, there is sand on my hand.”
Me: “Yes, that’s what happens when you play in the sand. Do you want to go back and play in the pool?”
Olivia: “Yeah!!!! Lets go do kicks!!”
Four hours later Olivia and Francine had proven to me that we were more then ready to hang out at the pool this summer. Towel dried, pink cheeked and still with a little smear of peanut butter on her face from lunch we were ready to leave. We were happy, exhilarated, excited for more pool days and exhausted! (Francine just barely made it to the edge of the parking lot awake) And for now we will embrace who we are without question and enjoy the the pool. Questions will come soon enough!
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Summer Camp Rehab

Going into fifth grade I was still a thumb sucker.  I wasn’t a walking around with my thumb in my mouth thumb sucker.  I was at night in bed, sneak and thumb suck, thumb sucker.  Summer meant summer camp and I was still a thumb sucker.  It was never something that caused me crippling embarrassment, but I was smart enough to know that fifth graders did not freaking suck their thumbs.

First night came.  We all did our evening routines.  Shower, brush teeth, PJs on and into bed.  I had the top bunk.  I reminded myself that I would need to be careful.  I would need to be careful not to fall out of bed!  I would also need to be careful no one saw me getting my fix… my thumb sucking fix.  Lights out.  Wait for it.  It was safe.  Thumb in. Oh the guilt, the internal pressure.  Would someone see me?  Would someone see me or catch me sucking my thumb?  What would I do if they caught me?

Morning came and no one was any the wiser.  Feeewwwwwffff, addiction fed and no one is on to me.  I may have snored that night and may have drooled a bit, but those were minor.  I had gotten my thumb sucking in.

Why did I feel so incredibly guilty?  Could it be the fact I was in fifth grade and I still sucked my thumb?  Possibly I was scared shit-less someone would discover my secret? Maybe it was because this was a church sponsored camp and we were here to work on ourselves?  Perhaps it was the sheer fact that I needed to get my ass in gear and STOP SUCKING MY THUMB!

The second and third nights came.  I didn’t.  I did not put my thumb in my mouth!!   The fifth day  was my last day at camp.  My mom came to pick me up. I was over the moon proud of myself.  I had kicked my addiction.  Putting my things in the car, the drive home, stopping for lunch, unpacking my duffel bag… I didn’t tell her about my personal victory.  I was no longer a thumb sucker and it was my happy secret.



This post was inspired by Mama Kat’s Pretty  
Much World Famous Writer’s Workshop
 
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Not My Mother’s Daughter

The warm water washed over me and as usual I began to think of all the things I needed to do.  I also started to think of all the things I wanted to do.  It was Saturday and I was told to take more time to myself.  Thoughts of my family began to drift into my head.  My own family.  How lucky I am.  My sisters, my dad and my mom.  My mom….

For eight years my memories of her have brought me sadness, anger and even embarrassment.  She had left this world losing her battle with depression.  The years leading up to her death were more then challenging, exhausting and something daughters should never have to do.  Up until last year if someone said, “Oh you remind me of your mom!” or “That reminds me so much of your mother!!”  I found myself overwhelmed with anger and embarrassment.  

“I was not like her!”, I would exclaim to myself.

Eight years later  it is just a typical Saturday morning. I am so happy with my life, happy with myself and so happy with the mother, wife, friend and women I have become.  I am strong and independent.  I love my job.  I get to go to work everyday and do what I have always wanted to do.  My daughters are polite, articulate, creative and love life.  My house is a lived in clean.  The laundry is done, but not folded.  The floor is scattered with toys and the markers and art work on the kitchen table always have to be cleaned up before dinner.  

I am not like my mother.

Yet,  still I find myself taken by the love and longing for my mother.  I am finally able to get past the wall of anger.  I love my mother.  I miss my mother.  I have always loved my mother.  I hate the illness she had, I hate what it did to her.  I hate what it made me have to do.  

I’m not like my mother.

Today I find myself suddenly in a much different place.  A place where I look back on the memories of my mom and they are fond and loving.   She was the most wonderful mother.  She was loving, gentle, selfless, she loved life and was passionate about being a mother.  Her greatest goal in life was to raise us to be well rounded, happy, successful women.  So today I find myself overwhelmingly happy to be compared to my mom.  Happy to be lucky enough to have many of my moms features.   Blessed to be able to share with my daughters traditions my mother gave me. Smiling that my daughter loves to have her back rubbed the same way my mom rubbed mine.   Lovingly, sharing fantastic stories and memories of my mother with my daughters… and with tears in my eyes and reflecting smile I find myself thinking:  I’m not my mother, but I will always be my mothers daughter.







Post inspired by writing prompt from Mama Kat’s 
Not your mother’s daughter…how do you parent differently than your mother did? 
Is it a good thing or a bad thing?


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“Come here.”

“Why?”

“Put your coat on.”

“Why?”

“Come downstairs.”

“Why?”

“Eat that piece of cake.”

“Why?”

“Why?” is the token phrase for my Olivia this week.  I joke that I could tell her, “We are going to Disney!” and she would respond, “Why?”.  We work so hard to teach our children our morals, our standards and manners.  Our children take us through phases and call us to task.  They ensure that we will keep them safe with rules and boundries. We glow in our success when they show us what they have learned.  They are certain to remind us,  just when we are sure that they finally get it, that they will always test us. “Why?”

She continues to test our rules, our standards and our follow through.  Soon this phase too will pass.  I remind myself.  “Why?”  If it doesn’t life will continue to be rough.
“Get your shoes on.”

“Why?”

“Get dressed for ballet.”

“Why?”

“Let’s go see a movie.”

“Why?”

“I love you”

“Why?”

It is just what I do sweetie no matter how crazy you make me!

This too will pass, right?

Just training for when she is a teenager, right?

It will get easier, right?

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