To Shelter or Not to Shelter?

From my observations, there are two main directions parents take when raising their kids. The first way seems to be the "shelter" approach and the second is the "not shelter" approach. Many times parents believe they must protect their child from any harm... from falling out of a tree (for God's sake don't let a kid climb a tree) and skinning their knee (kids shouldn't run anyways) to getting their feelings hurt in school (because life in general is so passive) or playing with the wrong crowd (because certainly they won't have to decide who is good and who is bad as adults.) 


 My philosophy is different. I'm more on the "not shelter" end of the spectrum, with a slight variation. Ever since baby girl was beginning to toddle around the house, I'd make a point to not gasp in fear as she stumbled. You know that sound, right? The sudden intake of air a parent does when their baby takes a face plant. If baby girl falls, I simply say, "Your okay... let's keep playing." She is now the toughest little chick on the playground at day care. Others will skin their knees and begin the melodramatic crying and sudden need to be held and coddled, while baby girl just gets up, brushes herself off and dredges forward to the swing set. She'll look at the cry babies as if they have three heads. Ain't nothin' but a thang! The truth of the matter is this: babies learn to walk by falling. Simple.  


That also plays a part in the development of a child later in life. If we shelter our children from everything in the world, then how will they know how to protect themselves and make the right decisions when they are on their own? Here's an example: I had a friend in high school who was very sheltered from everything. She wasn't allowed to listen to any music unless it was pre-approved by her parents. She wasn't allowed to date. She wasn't allowed to go to parties. She sat in her room at night watching the world go by through her window. Then she met me. I was in high school during the 80s and didn't have a cell phone, computer or internet. Instead, we just had fun. We went to the beach about five days a week, we went to parties, we hung out at the mall... we were free-spirited, happy teenagers. When I met my new friend, I put on my best "suck up to the parents" skills and soon won them over. Then, my friend was allowed to run around with me - on occasion - in my '67 VW Bug (affectionately named Moosehead after my favorite beer.) I taught her important skills such as how to sneak into an R-rated movie with a purse full of beer, and how to crash parties with your friends. We laughed until we cried and enjoyed being teenagers. After years of being sheltered, my friend had a hard time adjusting to being an adult once she moved out of her parent's home. This is when trouble can really begin for sheltered kids, because they are not prepared for what the world is really like. In other words, they don't fully develop their common sense - a vital component to self preservation. 


The variation to the "not shelter" component of my parenting style is that I always keep a quiet, watchful eye on my kids. Most times, they don't realize it, but I'm always alert and "on call" to swoop in and save the day - but only if I am needed. I don't expose my children to the harsh realities of the world because I want them to be kids. I've heard many parents talk to their children as if they are adults with subjects such as world war, death and destruction. DUDE! Those topics blow! I don't even want to hear about that crap as an adult so why the hell throw that on a kid? However, I do allow my kids to naturally learn about bad things during their day-to-day interactions in life. I believe this helps to develop their common sense and abilities to problem solve and cope. 


 So, with all of that being said, give your kids a break if you are an over protective parent. Let them spread their wings. Let them breath a little. Let them climb trees and skin their knees. If not, you might just end up with an anti-social, whiny little adult on your hands - and THAT my friend, ain't fun! Just sayin'!

From Chuck E. Cheese to Sushi

I can't believe my son will be 18 years old in just a few weeks. That is such a milestone in his life. And, really, it's a big milestone in mine as well. 


I think back of the days when he was so sweet - always wanting to please and do well. Now he doesn't try to impress. I remember when he was innocent and naive. Now he's sort of a perv that dry humps the air and walls to rap songs like a stripper in a club. I remember when it was so easy to make him happy for his birthdays - when Disney and Chuck E. Cheese were his favorites. Now, he wants dinner at a Sushi Restaurant and then plans to hit clubs at midnight when he's officially of legal age. Instead of scrubbing off temporary tattoos, I am shown photos of permanent tattoos he plans on getting. 


Reflecting back on his childhood is bitter sweet. He has been by my side his entire life, protecting me and always watching out for me. I've been by his side his entire life, protecting him and always watching out for him. I remember telling him when he was younger how I wanted him to stay living at home until he was much older because, truth be told, I couldn't imagine my life without him.


Now I realize that he has to move on and grow, without me watching his every move to make sure he is safe. There comes a time when all moms have to let go of their babies so they can grow into the adults they are meant to be. And, we must realize that they have learned from us how to behave and handle life. I see that in my son. He is strong willed, charming, witty, and compassionate. He's also a major pain in the ass. All of these qualities he has learned from me. 


I will miss having him here all the time when he does officially move out, but I'll also probably enjoy some aspects of it. Not having to hunt for my hair dryer will be nice. Having privacy in my room without him barging in will be nice. Not having to rewash loads of laundry over and over again because he doesn't want to put them away and would rather throw them back in the machine, will be nice. But, those nice aspects don't really out weigh the not-nice aspects of him leaving home. I guess I will have to adjust and realize that the future will also have it's great rewards. And, I will always be his mother. 


I have so much advice to give him as he approaches adulthood. But, I think the best advice right now is this: "Son. Remember that now you can be charged as an adult if you get into trouble. So, please remember that when you go out "clubbing" at 18 in the big city!"

Ruining my Kids... One Day at a Time.

Semi-Annual Sale - Now Save Up To 60% Off at PUMA

There are many moms out there that are perfect. I mean, perfect in every way. They are organized. They always look polished. Their SUVs are clean. Their houses are clean. Their kids go to bed at a set time every night - after having dinner at the exact time each evening. And, of course, the meals provided have been home-cooked and are planned in advance for the week. Meatloaf on Monday. Roast beef on Tuesday. Spaghetti on Wednesday. You get the picture.

I'm not one of those moms. I'm a complete disaster! As a matter of fact, I'm so opposite of the perfect moms that my kids are survivalists in the making.

I am so disorganized that I'm constantly hunting for shoes for baby girl. She has about 40 pairs of shoes (that's normal for a 3 year old, right?) but there always seems to be one missing when I have the perfect outfit for her. I buy her hair bows and bands but can never find them (actually, I think she hides them from me.)

My son is ready to get his driver's license, and I keep rescheduling it because I tell him I'm so swamped with work that "today isn't a good day." Truth is, I have no freakin' idea where I carefully filed his birth certificate and social security card. Dang... where did I put those? I know they are in a safe place somewhere... but where?

I'm never polished looking during the week. The only time I put on make up and fix my hair is if I have a client meeting. Typically I'm in sweat pants and a wife beater tank with big fuzzy house slippers while doing important professional phone conferences with clients. Many of the clients have asked me to get Skyp so we can video chat and I keep avoiding it because that'll mean I have to look presentable and God knows I don't want to deal with that nonsense! When I meet with a client for the first time, I look fabulous. Skirt, heels, blouse, matching briefcase, hair perfect and make up on. But, after the meeting, if I like the client and decide to work with them I make it clear that this will be the only time they see me dressed up (totally feel like I'm in drag!) and to expect jeans with holes in them, a t-shirt and UGG boots next time. Like it or leave it. I'm too old to care about impressing. They should be impressed with the amazing work I produce and not fancy clothes and make up, right?


When it comes to keeping my SUV clean and organized, I get a big FAIL on that. It's filled with mail that I pick up and ignore (only interested in the checks that arrive - the rest of the mail sucks), cheerios and sippy cups that have rolled under the seats that I find days later only because my car starts to smell. Typically, baby girl will begin the stripping process in the car on the way home from daycare and the first thing she takes off are her shoes (hmm... need to check the car for some missing shoes) so there are about 10 pairs in there. The only time I "muck out" the car is if I know I am picking up someone that matters - like an adult (and sometimes I don't even do it then.)

I am a hoarder when it comes to storing food. I think this is because I lived on a farm for so many years that was far away from any grocery stores. Therefore, when I'd do the 38-mile-round-trip to the store, I'd make sure I bought enough food so that I wouldn't have to go back any time soon. But, when I buy all this wonderful food and put it away, most times I forget to cook it! I'll have the most beautiful pot roast, chicken breasts and steaks in the freezer that will go bad because I never remember to take them out and thaw to cook for an evening meal.  I end up with meat that is freezer-burned, but lots of quick, fix it meals that are eaten instead.

How do these perfect moms do it? I can't even remember to take my house key with me 80% of the time and end up having to climb in a window in the middle of the day to get back into my house! The neighbors think I'm crazy - I'm sure - when they see this 44-year-old mother of two hiking herself up on a ledge and flipping in the house face first. I've gotten so many bruises from doing this, I look like a roller derby skater.

My kids think I'm crazy, especially my teenage son. He sends me text messages that say, "MOM... don't forget to cook dinner tonight" or "MOM... don't forget to pick me up from school today." Yes... it's true. I have forgotten him a couple of times. Oops... sorry son. Mommy loves you!

But, at the end of the day, after I've taken kids to school at the crack of dawn, worked like a maniac all day, and picked up the kids from school, they know I love them. We laugh in the car together talking about our day. We sing to music together while driving and tell jokes. I may be a disorganized mom, but I'm a loving mom. I'm there for them emotionally and they are secure.

So, kudos to you perfect moms out there. And, word up to you non-perfect moms! I guess we just have to do it our way and make it work for our kids. All is good in the world when that happens.

PS: I just went into the play room to check on baby girl and found her covered in my $100 mineral powder makeup. She had spread it out on the coffee table and was taking her hands and smearing it everywhere. Nice! I don't wear it anyways, so whatcha gonna do!

I'm moving out!

When my son was 15 years old, he decided he was ready to live on his own because he knew it all and I was a moron. I'm sure many moms have experienced the same situation while raising their teens. We were living on our farm that happened to have a guest cottage on the property located only about 100-feet away from the main house. He and I had been fighting most of the day and, rather than the typical statement, "I want to go live with my dad" threat, he packed his bag, grabbed his pillow and blanket and said, "I'm moving out!"

Okay. Where ya going big guy?

Let me just premise this story with the fact that my son is not the bravest soldier in the troop. He has been notorious for sleeping with his light on or at the very least, with his TV on, so he could hear the noise all night rather than obsessing over night-time creepy "farm sounds."

He gathered up his attitude and his belongings and marched out the front door and headed on the long 100-foot journey to the cottage. As the day went on, I never saw him. He would text message me from his new home every once in a while to check in with me and, as expected, the text messages became more frequent as night time approached. I just smiled to myself because I knew he would completely freak out once it was completely dark outside. Oh yes... it was getting close!

At about 10:00 pm that night, I climbed into bed and just as I began to fall asleep, my phone started beeping continuously. It was my son. "Mom! Did you hear that noise? Something is outside the cottage!" he cried frantically. Of course, I'm realizing it was probably a raccoon. He was certain it was a bear. A few minutes later, more text messages arrived.

He typed, "MOM!!! Please please please turn on the light and come to the front porch! I have to get out of here!" as if he were busting out of Alcatraz.

I stayed in bed a few more minutes to let him really appreciate the scary sounds before I went to the front door and turned on the light. I went out on the porch and called his name and I quickly hear, "I'm right here. Are you watching for me?"

"Yes baby... come on home."

Out of the dark, I then saw my sweet teenage son. He was walking so fast dragging his pillow and blanket with him that I thought for a moment I was watching a Charlie Brown cartoon.

As he entered the front door he gave me a huge hug and said, "Well mom. I think you've suffered enough. I've decided to move back home." Ha! Thanks son... it was lonely without you for that entire six hours.