Parenting from Afar, a.k.a. Parenting from a Work Chair and Phone

I decided the boys needed to get up early. They start school in two short weeks. They need to acclimate to getting up earlier than 11am. They especially need to go to sleep at night before midnight. Despite my best intentions Summer always deteriorates into me being the first to bed. Bedtimes should start with the youngest going to bed first, not the oldest! I may rethink my strategy and let the boys sleep in after this week's adventures. If they're still alive.

Here's a sampling of my work calls one morning this week:

9:35am     Baby calls from home:  Mom! Middle Child (MC) is yelling at me to help clean up!

                Me:   I did tell you guys to clean the basement family room. It's pretty messy. It needs it.

9:37am    MC:   Mom! Baby is yelling at me to finish breakfast and help him clean up!

                Me:   Why are you eating so late? Hurry and finish and then go clean up. That's your chore today. 

                         (I love how their stories don't match)

9:41am    Baby:  MC yelled at me for not helping clean and I am! And he told me I can go to Heck.

                Me:    You two need to try and get along while the basement gets cleaned up, it's really messy. No more 

                           calling each other names. Let me talk to MC.

               Baby calls for his brother loud enough for everyone else in the office to hear without being on speaker 

                            phone.

               MC:      What Mom?

               Me:       Please get along with your little brother and clean the basement. Otherwise you may not get to go 

                            to the pool tomorrow.

               MC:       I don't care if I go to the pool. (you can hear the smirk in his voice)

               Me:        That's fine, I can take the computer away AGAIN.

               MC:       Fine (sulkily). We'll get it cleaned up! (huff huff)

9:45am   Another phone call along the same lines

9:48am   Another phone call. More threats.

9:52am    Another phone call. More accusations. Everyone sent to their room until I get home.

9:54am    Another phone call from MC's cell phone. I answer: 'WHAT!"

               Nothing on the other end.

               Me:        Hello!  Hello!  (pause) Anyone there?

               Just as I'm about to hang up I hear something. Soft. Wimpering. Finally, an incredibly soft voice: "Mom, 

                              Baby threw something at the back of my head."

               Me:         What was it?

               MC:        I don't know. It hurts.

               Me:         Are you bleeding?

               MC:        I don't think so. (pause while he checks) Nope. Just a tiny bit of blood.

               Me:         (In my best loving motherly voice) Maybe you'll quit fighting with Baby. Now go to your room now 

                               until I get home. 

9:56a.     I call the house phone to talk to Baby. Takes three calls for him to answer.

               Me:         You need to be in your room. You can't be throwing things at your brother.

               MC:        If he wouldn't make me lose my temper! I wouldn't do that!

               Me:         It's your temper and he can't make you lose it. Now get in your room and stay there until I get 

                              home.

9:58am    I call MC's cell phone to check on the patient.

               Me:         How are you feeling?

               MC:        I'm fine. (no crying or sniffling, totally recovered)

               Me:         All right. You need to stay away from Baby. Stay in your room until I get home. Wait! Wait! Wait! 

                              (he has a bad habit of hanging up before conversations are finished, especially when not going 

                              his way.) Walk the Dog. For a half hour. Wait! Walk him for at least a WHOLE HOUR!

               MC:        Ok.

10:02am   Baby:      MC is running away!

                Me:         No, I sent him to walk the dog so you two would quit fighting.

                Baby:      No, he said Good-bye when he left. And I know his Good-bye's. He's running away!

                Me:         (Laughing out loud! MC just has to rub it in that he can leave and Baby's stuck in his room) He's 

                               not running away! Now read your book in your room. He'll be back soon.

And that was the last I heard from them the rest of the morning. By the time I got home the chores were done to the boy's specifications so they only needed a little help finishing. And all feelings were back to normal. Now, do I let them sleep the rest of the summer away so they don't fight?

The Z-Word

Many of you know that Baby has an aversion to Zombies. He is deathly afraid of them. We are not allowed to speak the word at our house. We refer to them as The Z-Word. Last year around Thanksgiving time Olaf and I went to the movies. Specifically, Zombieland. I'm not a Zombie fan, but this movie was hilarious. I loved it.

Last week it came out on DVD. I bought it. I'm going to have to hide it in the house somewhere. And sneak it out late at night to watch after Baby has gone to sleep. For those of you that have seen it, go get yourself a Twinkie, they do have an expiration date.

Bad Mom Incident #3,427 With No End in Sight

Baby brought a note home from school Wednesday. This means after school. After I've been to the store because my boys HATE to run errands (Hate is an understatement). I run errands on my way home from my Part-Time job before I have to drag boys kicking and screaming. When do the tantrums end?

"We will be making Gingerbread Houses on Friday. Please send some Candy and Frosting (if you made some) and a cardboard for the Gingerbread House."

I groaned. "I've already been to the store. We'll go tomorrow."

Thursday came and I got home from work with a grand project that would take me all night. Baby only reminded me twice that he needed candy. What's a mother to do without someone pestering her constantly? Two reminders is not nearly enough to actually get something done.

As Baby was going to bed he reminded me again. Now it's cold and dark outside. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the store. I told him I'd call Olaf and have him get some candy. Then I walked out of the room with that big project looming and completely forgot about the candy.

In the morning Baby didn't even mention the candy. I forgot too. I was thinking about that project I had finished and how to get it to work without anyone noticing. I sent Baby to school with his friend.

At work a little later I got on Facebook and saw some posts from other Mothers of 3rd graders: "Kitchen looks like it snowed on inside with powdered sugar everywhere from frosting for Gingerbread Houses." Great! I had completely forgotten! At least I knew that there were plenty of Stay-at-Home Moms who would make up for my slack. Thank goodness for them!

When he got home from school he had the cutest Gingerbread House. On a Piece of Cardboard! I hadn't even had the presence of mind to send a Piece of Cardboard. The whole Gingerbread Debacle just kept getting worse. Now I feel like I've got to make this up to his poor teacher that not only has to put up with Baby's antics in class, but now Baby's Mother's Antics of Non-participation. She just got the awesomest present I've even bought for one of my kids' teachers. A scarf and matching gloves. It's cold here sometimes.

The pretzel twigs in the bottom right corner are cannons. There was a fence to keep out invaders, but that has been eaten by baby. Apparently this Gingerbread house was stormed by the enemy at some point and he had to defend himself. Just when you think it's sweet and lovable Baby throws cannons and armies into the picture.

Cleanliness is Next to Impossible

Middle Child has been cleaning his room for almost two weeks now. I finally went down and helped yesterday. In three hours we accomplished more than he did in two weeks on his own.

I remember when Calvin was a little boy and I would help him clean up his toys. I remember being so proud when he could clean them up all by himself. I remember thinking what a good Mom I was!

When Middle Child was born I still sat and helped him put the toys away so he could learn to clean. But for some reason he was never ever able to clean up his toys by himself. To this day he can't pick up after himself. I have worked with him for 12 years and he still can't do it.

Everyone is born with personality traits and no matter how we try and mold someone, they are still that person. Just like you can't change your marriage partner, you can't change your children.

Sunday morning Middle Child came up after being in his room for almost two hours and proclaimed how well he was progressing on cleaning up from under his bed. When I went down yesterday I discovered what he had done with everything under the bed. He had spent those hours carefully packing everything under his bed onto several blankets, wrapping them up, and then putting them on the top bunk. It was a wonderful plan! Until Mom brought it all crashing down around him.

We only spent three hours cleaning his room. In that time we filled to overflowing six garbage bags. We found the shoes I had recently bought him that he had completely forgotten existed. We made the beds and folded the blankets. We found money. We put clean clothes away and dirty clothes into the hamper. We found his white t-shirt I had bought for gym class that had been promptly lost and replaced. We vacuumed in all the corners. We even ventured into his bathroom and cleaned in there, but only a little.

Now if only it will last. But I know Middle Child. I begged him to keep it clean for a week. I even pleaded. I'll let you know how that goes. Occasionally he surprises me.

Mr. Law-Abider: Updated with Pictures

A couple days ago I was at Target. I headed for the checkout lanes and they were all full. That is one of my pet peeves of shopping, checking out if there are long lines. I absolutely hate waiting in long lines, it's one of the reasons I avoid Wal-mart, the lines are always ridiculously long.

But this day there was a pleasant surprise in line waiting for me. The cutest little fat baby was in line in front of me. He was hanging out in those extra big carts created for Mormon parents who need to corral five young kids at the store. He was so darling. He kept smiling at me. He was barefoot. He had beautiful skin. He was so fat! If it was possible I could have just taken him home.

But I couldn't. That is called kidnapping. You can go to jail for that crime. For a very long time. So I did the next best thing, which can probably send me to jail to, if I'd been caught. I took a picture of him! I couldn't resisit.

When I got home I told my boys how I found the cutest fat baby at Target. Then I got my phone out to show them his picture. Baby looks at me a little funny and asks, "You took his picture?"

"Yes, he was so cute!"

"Did you ask his mom?"

"No, she was busy with her other kids."

"Did she notice?"

"No, I just pretended I was playing with my phone and took his picture."

"Is that illegal?"

I'm not sure where Baby gets his facts, but he's a little too smart for me. I was just excited to show them this adorable baby boy. Obviously the adorableness factor was lost on him. But then, I forget, I have boys that just don't appreciate the same things as I do.

PS. I decided against better judgment to post the cutest fat baby picture. I know it's a little fuzzy but I was trying to be discreet in the checkout lane at Target. Let me know if you think he's as cute as I do, cuz I could just squish those chunky thighs of his!
(Why is it baby's have cute chunky thighs and grownups just don't!)

Fight Club

Middle Child informed me that his school now has a Fight Club. They are a little behind the times as those were more popular a few years ago, but nevertheless they have one. I asked him if he was a member and he responded in the negative. That's a good thing that he's not a member, but at the same time he didn't get invited to be a member, so I don't know how that bodes for Junior High and his friend-making ability. If, by chance, there are only two or three members, then I'm not worried. But if everyone in 6th grade is a member but him, then I will begin to wonder about those social skills.

I guess I should just be thankful he's not a member because the kids were informed that if they're a member they'll get suspended. I was kind of wondering how the teachers would know who the members were until Middle Child informed me that they're supposed to tattle on the other kids if they know who the members are. And I just thought the kids duking it out at recess would be telling enough. But apparently the teachers are trying to get the kids to turn on each other, hopefully they'll get immunity or something worthwhile for the trouble they'll be in when they're discovered by the Fight Club kids.

And then I wonder what they call the Fight Club? When I asked, Middle Child said it was called "Ultimate Fighting or something. . . I have no idea what that is." We don't watch much Ultimate Fighting or Wrestling at this house. I know they're different sports, but I don't know how. I got my fill of it when I worked at the Bowling Alley Bar and they played it on the big screen every Saturday night. Currently, Middle Child is reading this over my shoulder as I type and informed me it's called TUF or something. But I just googled that and that's actually Taiwanese United Fund as found here. I guess my Know-It-All Middle Child doesn't know it all. I love proving that once in a while. I'm a Bad Mom.

UPDATE: The Top 10 Things That My Kids Think Make Me a Bad Mom

1. Not letting my kids eat out every night
2. Spending their gift cards at Walmart
3. Making them walk home from school
4. Making them ride bikes to friends houses instead of getting a ride
5. Not letting them get everything they want at the store
6. Making them do chores and then making them use the money they earn doing chores to buy things they want instead of me wasting my hard earned money
   
7. Not letting my kids play video games rated "M" for mature
8. Making my kids go to bed around 8:30 on a school night
9. Trying to teach my kids good table manners
10. No dessert unless dinner was completely eaten

UPDATE: I had to add one more that definitely makes me a Bad Mom in a boy's perspective

1. Attempting to teach Personal Hygiene skills such as showering, teeth-brushing, deodorant usage, hair-combing and hair-gel-usage, frequency of underwear changes, and definitely how not to use too much cologne

PS. I couldn't figure out how to use the number list and start at #11 instead of #1 cuz I wasn't really starting all over again but if I just stuck in a #11 at the beginning of the line the formatting would have been all wrong and that would have bugged me. So if anyone has some cool, easy HTML tricks for messing up number lists, send 'em my way.