Parenting Archives - Page 2 of 2

Dumb Stuff* My Kids Argue About

“Don’t raise your voice, improve your argument.”

*only I didn’t really say “Stuff”

“Don’t raise your voice, improve your argument.” – Desmond Tutu

Dealing with your children when they’re fighting falls squarely in the middle of Mandatory Parental Experiences. It’s not the WORST worst thing, but it’s really super not fun. I frequently waffle between trying to mediate and letting them figure it out on their own. I realize that learning how to interact with other people, including arguing, is normal child and adolescent development. But once it reaches a certain volume or goes on for more than a few minutes, all I want is for them to STOP IT.

Now, I’m not so old that I’ve forgotten how rotten siblings can be to each other; I know harsh words and even blows were exchanged with and between my brothers when we were growing up, and the same for nearly everyone I know. But of course, I expected that my own children would somehow, and mostly because they are being raised by ME, be nicer to each other.

So there’s one more delusion that got dashed against the rocks. I’m still learning to lower my expectations.

A while ago, I realized I spend a lot of time asking/pleading/begging/yelling for them to stop fighting. And so I started to keep track of all the dumb shit that they fight with each other about. Today, after a week and a half of their dumb shit over the holiday break, I’ve made my list and checked it twice.

When it comes down to what my kids fight about, there are two basic categories: General Dumb Shit and Specific Dumb Shit. I am hoping that at least some of this will sound familiar to at least some of you and you’ll reassure me that my kids and I aren’t the Absolute Worst. Please. Even if you have to fib a little.

General Dumb Shit My Kids Argue About:

Who gets more – according to each of my children, the other one gets more. More time with Mom and/or Dad, more time on electronics, more toys, more treats, more of everything and anything good in life. I’ve had the discussion with the older one that she gets more and will always get more, because she was here first. And I’ve told the younger one that yes, her sister has had more ice cream, shoes, and attention in her life, simply because she’s four years older. However, statistically speaking, she should live longer than her sister, and therefore, she will be able to catch up with ice cream and shoes, pretty much everything but parental attention. Live with it, kiddo.

Who gets away with more – there are different expectations for each child, which are mostly age dependent. So, if you’re 13 and call your sister a “stupid freak”, the repercussions are going to be more severe than if your 9 year old sister calls you the same name. Because at this point in time, when you say it, it sounds mean, but when she says it, I know it’s because she heard it from YOU. Get used to having higher expectations foisted upon you. You’ll thank me when you’re older (I tell her that, with absolutely zero conviction that it will actually happen).

Who does more – another issue mainly rooted in birth order and related expectations. So yes, you’re 13 years old and you can do things like mow the lawn, make your bed, and help with basic tasks like dishes and laundry. Of course it’s more than I ask of your sister, because she’s four years younger than you. But think about it, I expect a lot more of her than I did of you at her age. Mainly because I’m tired.

Specific Dumb Shit My Kids Argue About:

Literally, three lego pieces out of the thousands that they have.

The younger one wanting the same flavor lollipop as her sister, while the older one wants anything but the same flavor lollipop as her sister. Sometimes at the bank, but more likely, from the basket at the liquor store counter. Meanwhile, I throw three more bottles of wine plus a bottle of scotch into the cart.

Which one of them has worse breath.

Not wanting to share the sample slice of ham from the deli at the grocery store and then both getting super pissed at me when I get fed up and shove it in my mouth just to shut them up.

Wanting to be the first OR the last to shower, brush their teeth, get dressed, or brush their hair. Whichever one wants, the other wants just as much.

Table manners. One with a mouthful of food yelling at the other one to chew with her mouth closed. It’s precious.

Who is making us late to something. Because one couldn’t find her shoes, and the other one had to have a particular water bottle. Whoever actually ends up seated in the car with their seatbelt buckled claims victory, while the other one howls in protest. Because “it’s not fair”. Of course.

Games. Outside games, indoor games, board games, card games, video games. The battle cry of, “You’re cheating!!!” is the beginning of the inevitable end.

There are four blankets in the living room, and they fight over the ONE that they absolutely need in order to survive. Nevermind that it’s either August and approximately 75 degrees in the room or January and the heat is on and it’s approximately 75 degrees in the room.

Gatorade. Apparently the older one gets gallons more Gatorade, even though the younger one has…wait for it…a half full bottle of Gatorade that she was given 2 days ago, and never finished, in the fridge. Personally, I think Gatorade is gross and don’t want either of them to have it, except that…well, that gets filed under Dumb Shit Adults Argue About.

Alexa. What in the actual crap was I thinking by getting an Echo? I don’t have any “smart” appliances or other household features, so I mostly use it to play music. But HOLY SHIT, am I sick of “Alexa, play Katy Perry Radio.”, “Alexa, play Jason Mraz Radio”, “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!! ALEXA! PLAY KATY PERRY!!!”, “ALEXA, NEVER PLAY KATY PERRY AGAIN!!” Honestly, I’m surprised that Alexa hasn’t told these two to chill the fuck out. I might put that on her to-do list.

Who is going to win “America’s Got Talent”, “The Voice”, “American Ninja Warrior”, “British Baking Champion”, or whatever other kind of mind-numbing competition show they are watching.

This shit when my back is turned:

Kid 2: Stop looking at me!
Kid 1: (mouthing) You’re a freak! (by the way, I can see this happening in the reflection of the microwave as I take a ~~huge swig~~ dainty sip of wine)
Kid 2: Moooooooooom, she called me a freak!
Me: (turning around) (in my head: could you just NOT be jerk to your sister for like, 5 minutes??) Aloud: Sweetie, please don’t call your sister names, it’s really not nice.
Kid 1: What? What? What did I do? I didn’t do anything!!!! You always blame me!!! Whyyyyyyyy?!?!?!?!!??

Who was the one who didn’t flush the toilet. I’m the mom and I still know by scent and appearance which kid it was. I know, it’s gross. But I know.

Who is more like Hermione Granger.

Which one of them is my favorite. This one, though, always makes me smile. Even though they’re squabbling, they start listing off all of the good things they each do, and every single way that they’re great. Which is my in to grab them both, squeeze them tight, and tell them that, even though they fight, the one thing that is not up for debate or arguing is how much I love them both. Equally, and with my whole heart.

Because for all of the dumb and really dumb shit they fight about, they are still two of the smartest, funniest, energetic, creative and (mostly, except to each other more days than not, but I know it’s just their ages and hopefully they’ll grow out of it and be the best of friends in the future) kindest people I know.

Here’s to my eternal hope and belief that they will love and take care of each other in the future…

Just Breathe.

The Twisted Maven

Nah, Humbug!

Oh look at this adorable puppy my kids are absolutely not getting for Christmas.

“Three phrases that sum up the Christmas spirit are: Peace on Earth, Goodwill Toward Men and Batteries Not Included.” – Anonymous.

No matter what particular phase of life I have been in; child, teenager, adult, in a relationship, single, before kids, with kids, whatever – I have ALWAYS loved Christmas.

Regardless of being a non-practicing nothing currently, and earlier generations having been kind of sometimes sort of religious, Christmas, from the time I was little, has always been a very secular celebration. There may have been the occasional creche mixed in among the lights and ribbons and nutcrackers, but this holiday has always been primarily about three things: family, food, and traditions.

When I was a small child, Christmas morning always started out at home with presents, stockings, eggs and bacon. Then we would travel to my maternal grandparent’s home, along with a bunch of aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends we called aunts and uncles. There was a roast, mashed potatoes, creamed peas and canned pears dyed green and red with cottage cheese. There were Bloody Marys for the adults, the Chipmunks Christmas Album on the record player/radio/liquor cabinet console, and one kid or another constantly crying and/or being disciplined.

Side story: one time, my dad got sufficiently annoyed at his mother in law and pretended to have an urgent errand to run. I was fortunate enough to go on this “errand”, bolting out of the front door behind my dad, and in front of my grandmother’s admonishment to put a hat on or risk my brains freezing. The errand ended up being a short trip to one of my dad’s aunt’s homes, where the smell of garlic permeated the air and we walked on plastic runners and sat on plastic covered couches and I was given big bosomy hugs and affectionate face squeezes like only an Italian auntie can give. When we returned, it was like we never left. At least one kid was sulking, Dave was still yelling at Alvin, and lots of people and noise filled the house.

When my family moved to New Jersey from Upstate New York, it was just the five of us most Christmases. Let’s call those “The Quiet Years”.

Then, as will happen with the passing of time, my brothers and I grew up and moved away. I got married and had a kid, and my parents followed me here to Connecticut. My brothers also got married, and their families currently live in Pennsylvania. Both of my brothers also have non-traditional work schedules, where one usually has to work holidays and the other could be called into work on a moment’s notice. So that all led to some ingenuity of how to celebrate the holidays.

Now, a week or two before actual Christmas, my brothers and I and our families gather at my parents’ house and exchange gifts, rank on each other, laugh a ton, and eat all the food. My children get to see their aunts and uncles and cousins (which, as of this writing, includes two canines and a super cute one-year old human), my parents get to have all of their kids and grandkids in one place at the same time, and it’s magical chaos, just like when I was a kid.

(To quote my Dad: here we are keeping with the solemn tradition of formal family Christmas portraits)

And, of course, there are the traditions that have been established in my own home over the years. One of which is to buy a Christmas tree, bring it home, and leave it outside for several days. This year, we might break the previous year’s record of 6 days. Another is to place the gingerbread houses that my children spent several hours decorating, on top of a cabinet at adult eye level. And then forget about them until well into January. And of course there’s the damn Elf on a Shelf, named Rico. Most nights, he moves…sometimes, he’s just “too embarrassed” by their “behavior” and doesn’t want to “tell Santa”, so he stays put for a night or four.

The most recent tradition that I’ve embraced is allowing my nine-year-old to be in charge of Christmas decorations. Put this under the category of Stuff I Used to Have Nailed Down But Now Lack the Energy and Will to Deal With. I have an extensive collection of Christmas decorations, including indoor and outdoor lights, outside inflatables, placemats, candleholders, nutcrackers, dishes, kitschy decorations, signs, garland, and the largest collection of holiday-themed dishtowels you will ever see.

My girl, who is undoubtedly the one person in this house who is completely in the Christmas spirit, doesn’t give a crap about most of those things. This year, she made approximately 350 paper snowflakes and taped them on the walls of EVERY SINGLE ROOM IN THE HOUSE. I kinda love it. She also arranged my nutcrackers in a group, without rhyme or reason, and called it “Nutcracker Village”. I had to move a few so no one would break their neck trying to open the pantry. And she incorporated her lego people, whom she has all named and identified as family members, into her decorating efforts.

Someday, these current traditions will be modified. Someday, once again, my decorations will be organized and put out in a timely manner. Someday, “Alternate Christmas” might not be a thing. Someday, Christmases may be quieter. So I’ll take the pile of nutcrackers, the legos, the paper snowflake decorations, the noise and chaos of the celebration with my siblings even though it’s not “actually” Christmas. Because, to me, it “actually” is what Christmas is all about. Family, food, and traditions, along with love, laughter, and things being what they are, regardless of how we want them to be.

My very best wishes to you and yours this holiday season, however, whomever, and whatever you celebrate.

I’ll be talking to you soon, and in the meantime…

Just Breathe.

The Twisted Maven

PS. I would LOVE to hear about your holiday traditions, celebrations, frustrations, anecdotes, and anything else you’d like to share. Please comment below, send me a message, and don’t forget to follow, share and like on social media!

Twisted Maven Intro – Part 1

How I used to envision adulthood…all green grass and blue skies and fluffy white clouds.

“I planned to take over the world, but I’m tired.” – Unknown

Greetings and welcome to The Twisted Maven! Come on in and hang out for awhile. Curl up on my couch, enjoy a glass of wine or a cup of tea, but please leave your shoes at the door. My aim is to make you comfortable, but not so much that you feel free to muck up my space. It’s already mucked up enough. Besides, we’ve got some things to discuss, all of us, about this Mess in the Middle.

By way of introductions, I was born in the 1970’s, came of age in the 1980’s, grew into adulthood in the 1990’s, got married and procreated in the 00’s, so I’m currently in the years between helping my children and parents with their toileting. Too old to go out anywhere that has a dance floor and a DJ, but still a few years away from my complimentary AARP magazine subscription. You get the idea. I am existing on a day-to-day basis, with lots of balls in the air and even more on the ground that I’ve dropped along the way.

I’m at that point in life where I’m attempting to let go of the past, live in the present, while still planning some for the future. I have kids who still need me, parents who are showing signs of needing me more, a desire for an organized home and schedule, a fairly wicked sense of humor, a love of facts, the obligation to provide some sort of income to my household, and a propensity for using curse words as often as I breathe.

I’m also a pop culture junkie, most knowledgeable about random facts dating from my parent’s childhood in the 1950’s to right about the exact second I gave birth for the second time in 2009. And, I am a big fan of quality food, drink, coffee, movies, television that costs money, and music of most kinds.

I’m in a constant state of being pulled in all directions to the point of shattering, while simultaneously feeling enough pressure from all sides that I often feel crushed to the point of being completely compacted, unable to move. Above all, I’m just freaking tired. All. The. Time.

I’m waiting to reclaim all of my limbs and senses, and for that crushing pressure to lift and finally reveal the sparkle of the me-diamond that has been under construction for so long. I’m sure there’s a single German word for all of this, but my google searches have yet to find it.

So why “The Twisted Maven”? Because I have enough life experience and education, both academic and self-started, to consider myself someone who may have something relatable to say, as well as some semi-useful knowledge to pass along. And I’m also self-aware enough to know that I’m generally a culmination of my failures, but yet, I’m still standing, and even thriving in some areas. I am the master of my life; it’s a chaotic, ridiculous, tiring thing, but yet, I love it. That’s the “Maven” part.

The “Twisted” part? Well, if you’re looking for some amazing Pinterest-worthy creations or tone-deaf articles that purport to help you live a happier, more organized, productive and beautiful life, you’re not going to find that here. There’s already enough of that kind of stuff out there to make you feel shitty about your life. Rather, I’m a truth teller about how I manage this Mess in the Middle. What I aim to do is let you know that I feel you, and I’m with you in the trenches. I appreciate and understand the drudgery.

What I aim to do is help us all acknowledge and laugh at the things that we can’t control, allow us to realize how to control the things we can without losing our shit, and learn to know the difference between the two. I’m all about hacks that actually work, camouflaging disasters, calling bullshit wherever and whenever I see it, learning as much as I can about as much as I can. And, most of all, laughing and singing and crying like there’s nobody watching.

This whole life thing is a complicated bit, no matter where you are located in it. Why not celebrate our beautiful catastrophes, and have a laugh while we’re at it?

Stay tuned, as there is much, much more to come. In the meantime…

Just Breathe.

The Twisted Maven