Saturday, February 27, 2016

Bad Behavior

Many years ago, a man wrote a book that became very popular.  The essence of his book (which later became posters, t-shirts, etc) was that you learn everything you need to know to be successful in life before you start first grade.  Be kind, take turns, share your stuff, naps are great (the Mom of No concurs with that), etc.  If you are quickly approaching old fart-dom, like I am, you probably remember it. Whippersnappers, ask your parents.

As parents, we spend a lot of time teaching our offspring how to behave appropriately.  Don't have meltdowns if you don't get candy at Target.  It's not acceptable to throw your dinner on the floor if you don't like it  (even if the dog really enjoyed it).  Stealing a toy car from the store because you want it and your mean mother won't buy it will get you a very long timeout.  You should respect other people and their property.  Name calling is wrong.  You have to follow the rules even if you don't like them.  Don't be greedy and take all the chocolate chip cookies before anyone else gets one.  If you can't agree what game to play, compromise on a third option.

As they get older, we teach them that telling lies and cheating has consequences, some of them very serious.  Taking responsibility for your actions is important, and if you make a mistake you should own it and make it right.   We teach kids that there is no "I" in "Team", and that leaders should lead by example instead of "don't do as I do, do as I say". 

In short, we expect better behavior from toddlers, elementary school kids and teenagers than we do from candidates for the highest office in our great and wonderful nation.

At some point in the not so distant past, our society has decided that it is perfectly acceptable for candidates for the highest office in the nation to act in a manner that would get any toddler put in the time-out chair, or cause a teenager to get the car keys taken away until he or she turns 30.
 
I'm not going to call out the culprits. You can probably figure it out for yourself after watching about 10 minutes of a televised debate.  If you think that the way they are acting is appropriate and acceptable behavior for grownups, or if you think it's justified,  then the Mom of No blog is probably not for you.   Even worse, the guilty parties don't even bother to attempt to be reasonable people. They exult in their bad behavior. 

As a society, we devote a lot of time to teaching our offspring that bullying is wrong. In recent years, schools and other organizations have expended significant resources to address bullying and the damage that it does.  Exposed bullies are often excoriated on social media.  However, kids learn by example.  Kids are smart.  They see how it is.  We tell our kids that to get ahead, you should work hard, do the right thing even when it's difficult, follow the Golden Rule. Be a good person, and rewards will come.  Then we wildly applaud when politicians walk onto the national stage and act like bullies. Don't do as I say. Do as I do.  Being a bully is acceptable.  Desirable, even.

We teach our kids that when you grow up, you can be anything you want- an astronaut, a doctor, a zookeeper, a librarian, an explorer, a ninja zombie killer.  And, unfortunately, they could all be about to learn that you can be an uncouth bully and be elected President of the United States.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

On the Road

This week, I am taking a short work-related road trip to Little Rock, Arkansas to do a presentation at a conference.  I'm looking forward to it in the same way that I'd be looking forward to being abducted by pirates; public speaking is really not a strength of mine and I'll be glad when it's over because I'm starting to have angst about it.  I mentioned to the offspring that I'd be gone for a couple of days; the teenager kind of nodded and went back to her iPad but the Son of Never Stops Eating perked right up.

Son: Can I go?
Me: No, of course you can't go.  You have school.
Son: I'd rather go with you.
Me: This isn't like a fun trip. This is for my job.
Son: It's still better than school.

I'm not sure what the motivation is here- spending more time with his wonderful mother, or getting out of school, but he's not going.

When the offspring were wee babies instead of teenagers, I would travel for work and people would say things to me like, aren't you sad to be leaving your babies? Wouldn't you rather be home with them?  It must be so hard for you to say goodbye to those sweet faces. And I'd be thinking, are you kidding me? A few nights in a hotel, eating out in restaurants that don't have happy meals, being able to take a bath without someone standing by the bathroom door saying mommy....mommy....are you going to come out?  This is like a dream come true.  Even if it is for work. Somehow it seemed socially unacceptable to say, no, I really want to go,  I'm not that sad- people would think I was a terrible mother.  Internally, however, I would be jumping with joy.

I actually did miss my kids, but not in a sad, moping sort of way.  I'm not a horrible mother, despite what you are probably thinking about me now.  It would be hard not to miss all that cuteness, but staying in a hotel and having time to actually read a grownup book instead of "Cat in the Hat" did make up for some of it.

The only exception to this unbridled joy at the prospect of work travel was when I was nursing my son and I had to take my breast pump with me.  This was after 9-11 and there was some confusion amongst the TSA agents when I went through airport security about whether a breast pump was a dangerous device. The young man who was questioning me about it seemed rather disconcerted at the whole idea (you do what with it?  you mean, like a cow?).  Fortunately, that was a time-limited problem.

Now the offspring are teenagers and no one seems to think that I'd miss them, or that I would rather be home with them instead of travelling to exotic locales like Little Rock, Arkansas or Huntsville, Alabama.  Actually, even when I travel it's like I never even left, because even when I'm at home I don't see them that often and I can still text them their favorite Mom Reminders, like "clean up your room, thx", or "watch the data usage, please". 

One aspect of work travel has not changed through the years.  No matter where I go, no matter how long I am gone,  I am still greeted the same way when I walk through the door.  For some reason, they both want to know what I brought them.  Apparently, the expectation seems to be that shopping for souvenirs is my number one priority.  Thanks be for hotel toiletries.

Friday, February 19, 2016

Lent Slacker

Today, I have a confession to make. I am a Lent slacker.

Ever since I was a little kid and made the mistake of giving up pizza and cake for Lent, only to realize too late that pizza and cake was served at every birthday party I went to during that six weeks period, I’ve had a good intentions gone unrealized relationship with the observance.   Then Easter comes and I have a distinct feeling that I’ve failed some spiritual challenge.  So this year I’m unapologetically coming clean.  I suck at Lent.

I have a friend who gives up chocolate every year, and because she is extraordinarily disciplined, she pulls it off.  I tried chocolate one year and lasted exactly until I got stressed out over something (or someone had a birthday party at work and there was chocolate cake- I forget which it was) and that was it. Good intentions, bad follow-through.  The next year I gave up coffee until I fell asleep at my first work meeting of the Lenten season.  Apparently I rely on caffeine to make up the difference between the sleep I am getting and the sleep I should be getting, which makes me exactly like every other adult in the United States.

Also, about the coffee thing- I am a much easier person to be around when I have coffee.

Then the point was brought up that you don't necessarily have to give something up, like chocolate or coffee.  You can add something, like reading a particular book or spending time in prayer.  Or, you can resolve to change something about your life- do something kind each day, or don't use anything plastic. 

OK! I thought.  I can be a nice person for six weeks (stop laughing).  I’m not going to think negative thoughts about anyone.  No matter what happens, I’m going to be gracious and forgiving and give the other person the benefit of the doubt.   On the way home from work the next day, someone cut me off on the highway and I spent five minutes cussing and making snarky commentary to myself on their lack of driving skill and intelligence.

So much for that plan.

I have friends who have successfully given up Facebook, TV, buying clothes, or eating candy for six weeks.  I have friends who get up early and spend time in spiritual contemplation. I have great admiration for these people.  I'm willing to admit I spend a lot of  time, mostly on Facebook or out at the nature preserve, that I could be spending doing good deeds or working on the condition of my soul, although hiking is a form of meditation for me so I don't see it as time wasted.  Facebook, I admit, is an entirely different story. I could try giving it up, but I know I'd sneak a look every now and then.  I believe in realistic goal setting.

On an intellectual level, I get Lent, although I'll understand if you are dubious given my bad record of participation.  I paid attention in Sunday School and church.  I'm just not very good at following through on my intentions.  I know what you're thinking- if I made it a priority in my life, it would be easier.  You are probably right.  I'm not giving up; I have a goal this year too and so far I'm sticking to it.  One week in; I'm already ahead of the year I gave up coffee (two days). I do think that if we were all willing to openly acknowledge our failings or struggles as well as our successes,  the world would be a happier place- and Lent slacking is a challenge of mine.

Monday, February 15, 2016

Toddlers vs Teenagers

Every now and then someone will say to me, "toddlers are just like teenagers, only smaller", or "teenagers are just like toddlers, except with a bigger vocabulary", or something similar.  I've had toddlers and now I have teenagers, so I can say that there are similarities but there are also differences. For your enlightenment,  I've made a handy list for reference.

Family Finances:
Toddlers:  You spend all your money on daycare.
Teenagers: You spend all your money on car insurance.

Food:
Toddlers eat all the cheese cubes and graham crackers.
Teenagers eat anything that isn't hidden in the attic.

Fun:
Toddlers: Let's go to the zoo!
Teenagers: Can you take us to the mall? And drop us off and go somewhere else?

Sleep:
Toddlers: Get cranky if they don't get enough sleep.
Teenagers: Get cranky if they don't get enough sleep.

Vocabulary development:
Toddlers say "NO!" to everything.
Teenagers say "What-ever!" to everything, and toss in an eye roll for extra emphasis.

Communication Skills:
Toddlers:  Half the time, you're not sure what your toddler is talking about.
Teenagers: Half the time, you're not sure what your teenager is talking about.

Mother to Mother:
Mothers of toddlers: Comparing notes on when their children reach milestones.
Mothers of teenagers:  Comparing notes about peri-menopause.

Hot Debates:
Mothers of toddlers: Stay at Home vs. Working Moms
Mothers of teenagers: Too busy wondering who ate the secret chocolate stash to debate anything.

Social Skills:
Toddlers: play dates
Teenagers: real dates

Obsession that drives parents crazy:
Toddlers: Elmo
Teenagers:  Fandom phases*

New Year's Eve
Toddlers: You desperately need a babysitter.
Teenagers: Desperate parents of toddlers are involved in a bidding war for your teenager's babysitting services.  Your plan is to go to bed at 10 PM.

Loveys:
Toddlers: Their favorite blankie or teddy bear.
Teenagers: Their mobile device.

Leaving the House:
Toddlers:  making sure that you have the stroller, the diaper bag, the lovey, extra snacks, and a video for long trips.
Teenagers: making sure that all the technology is charged and everyone has their headphones.

The Automobile:
Toddlers: The car always smells like stale Chicken McNuggets.
Teenagers: The gas tank is always mysteriously empty.

Commiseration with friends:
Toddlers: I don't think he/she will ever be potty trained.
Teenagers:  I don't think I can go in her/his bedroom without biohazard gear on.

Thinking about the Future:
Toddlers: You're nervous about your little darling starting kindergarten.
Teenagers: You're nervous about paying for college.

*At the risk of appearing uncool, The Mom of No isn't sure what that is. It was the teenager's contribution to this list.
Teenager Note (TN):a fandom is a  movie series, TV show, anime, book series, or music that has some sort of following or franchise. Popular fandoms are Harry Potter, Fall Out Boy, Doctor Who and various animes like Attack On Titan. Toddlers will also be guilty of this, being into transformers one week and pirates the next.

Friday, February 12, 2016

Spam Folder

This morning, I went looking in my e-mail spam folder in pursuit of a potentially lost e-mail.  Usually I just delete all those e-mails, sight unseen, but after perusing them this morning, I think I am losing out on some real opportunities for self-improvement and financial gain.  The spam folder is full of resources to meet any challenge!

Love life difficulties?  According to my spam folder, a woman named "Tara" can help you find love.  If Tara can't help you out, maybe JDate can.  Christian Mingle has pictures of "ChristianMingle Singles" for your perusal- I have no idea if the rhyming is intentional, but it's stuck in my head.  If you don't really have a religious preference for a potential life companion, you can become an eHarmony partner.  Like borscht?  Natasha the Russian Bride is looking for a  groom.   If you have already found the love of your life, but need flowers, Holiday Flowers is ready to come to the rescue.  If you're not sure the love of your life is true to you, wireless cameras can help you with some surveillance. 

Having financial difficulties or looking to make some big bucks easy and fast? Apparently the President is giving homes away free if you are a veteran.  If you need toilet paper coupons, your credit boosted, technical job training, a brand new SUV with a low interest loan, or a credit card with easy terms, someone is ready to help you out.  I don't know about your household, but we can always use toilet paper.  I might have to check that one out.  If money isn't actually a problem for you, and you'd like a private jet to tour the world, all you need is a private jet charter.  If you can actually afford a private jet, do you really need to rely on spam to find one?  About halfway down the list, I was excited to find out that I had won a Kohl's gift card for $500! With two growing adolescents in my household, I can definitely use that!

I also noticed that someone named Chris is desperately trying to get in touch with me with an important message.  Chris has sent several e-mails, so it must be important.  I wonder what it could be about?

Suffice it to say that if you have health or beauty woes, someone is out there in Spamland ready to help you out.  Incontinence diapers? Got those.  Mesothelioma? Attorneys are looking for you to help with a class action lawsuit.  You can get your skin cleansed, find weight loss products, and locate a breast augmentation surgeon.  If toenail fungus is your problem, no worries- contact the right person and it can be removed without pills.  A provider who can't spell wants to offer you a "gstricbypss"- I'm assuming that means "gastric bypass".  I'd personally feel better going with a surgeon who knew how to spell the procedure he or she is about to perform on me, so I think I'll pass on that one. I'll also have to pass on the dental implants; even the idea of having dental work done sends me over the edge.

No life challenge will go unmet if you simply rely on your spam folder.  Degree programs? Lots of those- although they must be small, exclusive schools because I've never heard of them. Cheap car insurance is easy to find, although I have no idea how easy to find they'll be if you actually need to file a claim.  You can get solar panels, sea sickness cures, discount oil change coupons, pet insurance, home warranties, windshield replacements,  IRS forgiveness- apparently they have forgiven millions, and would like to extend the offer to you- senior living apartment location assistance,  anti-virus software, and help determining whether cremation is right for you.

I plan to delete all of these (except the toilet paper coupons) as soon as I complete typing- fortunately, I am not currently having issues with toenail fungus and I'm satisfied with my automobile insurance.  I'd offer to pass this information along to anyone else who needs it, but I suspect that you probably already have the same offers; all you need to do is check your spam folder.

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Under Pressure

The other day, I got an e-mail from the teenager with an attached graphic.  Immediately, the Mom Radar started pinging because I never get e-mail from the teenager; e-mail is so not Millennial. The attachment was a statement about stress and teenagers.  The summary of it was that teenagers are very stressed out.

The Enhanced Mom Subliminal Alert Code Red Teenager Situation alarm immediately started buzzing.  What was this, and why was the teenager sending it to me?  

I brought up the idea of teenager stress to a couple of my co-workers during a fire drill.  They all scoffed in disbelief.  Teenagers need to suck it up, they said. It only gets worse.  Wait until they get a job and have to pay bills.  As cranky as that sounds, they do have a legitimate point.  Unless you are extraordinarily lucky or extremely laid back, life will always contain stress.

I decided that the best course of action was to approach this situation head on, in best Band Mom tradition, by cornering the teenager in my vehicle on the way to a band activity.  We were going to have some one on one communication! Give me some insight, I asked her. What are teenagers so stressed out about?

She only had time for a brief answer:  Being a teenager is like being hit by a truck.  Everything gets you all at once.  No one listens to us. And we never get enough sleep.  Then it was time to be dropped off at the band hall.

While I sat and worked on my crochet granny square project that never ends, waiting for the concert to start, I mulled this over.  I'm not sure we do our kids favors in their younger years when we don't let them take risks and shelter them from experiencing failure.  It must be stressful to find out, after years of "Everyone gets a trophy!", to suddenly start being told "You must be the best at all times!".  I don't remember my own teenage years being so complicated.

This all happened at exactly the same time as course registration for the next school year. The high school course catalog the teenager brought home looks like something you'd get at a small college.  Planning their high school career resembles planning a four year degree program.   Just attempting to process the information made me feel like running off to a beach yoga resort somewhere with no cell phone service, and it's not even my academic career at stake.  No wonder teenagers are stressed out.

I don't want an overly stressed out kid.  I want her to enjoy high school and these last couple of years before adulthood kicks in.  But I also don't think I'd be helping her mature by being overly protective and accommodating. Stress happens.  Part of growing up is learning how to manage it. Some of us are still working hard at that even in middle age.  How do we, as parents of teenagers, know when to push and hover and when to let go? When to wake them up and when to let them sleep in?  I want her to succeed, but whose definition of success do we use, mine or hers?

I asked the teenager for her perspective.  Pay attention to us, she said.  Take us seriously.  Trust us. Talk to us about stuff.  And let us sleep. 

Sunday, February 7, 2016

Paperwork

Many opinions exist on what a parent's job is.  Among the most popular theories are: to support your kids, make sure they are fed and have a roof over their heads, teach them how to become independent adults and productive citizens, provide love and affection, and to dispense discipline when necessary.  These are all valid thoughts.  However, none of these answers tell the complete story. 

Your job, as a parent, is to do paperwork.

The paperwork starts the day your adorable newborn little boy or girl is placed into your arms, and it does not ever let up.  The amount of paperwork required increases exponentially as they get older. Everyone wants paperwork- daycare, the pediatrician, the orthodontist, the emergency room, sports leagues, scouts, summer camp, Sunday school.  Enrolling your child in public school involves reams of paperwork, to be repeated every year until your little darling graduates.  In the Mom of No's opinion, it is easier to buy a motor vehicle than it is to register your offspring for Girl Scout camp.

One would think that there would be some standardized paperwork form, but, alas, everyone has their own version.  Some organizations only want your name and phone number; others want a brief medical history, and some want to know everything about you and your child, including the date your offspring lost his or her first tooth and what unsuspecting "emergency contact" should be called in the event that your son decides to run into a chain link fence at school and require six stitches in his cheek on the same day you are on a flight to St. Louis and your husband is stuck in a six-mile long traffic jam that hasn't moved in four hours.   

Sometimes you are also required to fill out paperwork on yourself to become a volunteer.  Some of these forms ask questions like "list every address you've had in the last 50 years", or "Who was your best friend in kindergarten and do they tweet nice things or evil things about you?".

The Teenager is about to enroll in driver's education (I will gladly take donations for the insurance fund: let me know) and apparently this also involves paperwork.  I thought I had it all covered- Social Security card-check; official copy of the birth certificate- check; certificate of attendance for school- I don't have that, but how hard could that be to get? (famous last words, right)?  Then people started telling me horror stories about the paperwork involved to get the actual driver's license.  Apparently I need not only the deed to my house, but every medical record since she was born and a sworn statement from the obstetrician that delivered her.

Then the reports started coming in from friends whose offspring are applying for college.  Driver's license? they scoff.  That's nothing.  Just wait until you start filling out the financial aid paperwork.  You still have your income tax returns from 1998, right?  The W2's from your first job?

I think they're joking.  At least, I hope they're joking, although some part of me suspects that the truth is even more horrible than they are letting on.  Anyway, I hope the offspring realize what a struggle all this paperwork is.  At some point, I'm sure I'll get my revenge:  I'm sure the old folks' home requires at least a 1 inch binder full of paperwork before they'll let me through the door.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Cheese

The other day someone was asking me if I had any household rules, and what they were.  I do have one rule, which is indisputable and unbreakable.  The rule is this:

You can never have too much cheese.

I know that many people consider bacon to be not only an indispensable ingredient in cooking but the very nectar of the gods. However, bacon cannot compare to cheese.  I know you bacon lovers out there may be gasping in agony and screaming "Heresy!", but I will not apologize. Bacon is okay.  It has its uses. I don't have anything against bacon. But cheese....wow. You can just never have too much cheese.

We are such big fans of cheese, we get a thank-you card every year from the state of Wisconsin.  Apparently, our household is one of their best customers.
 
The offspring don't seem to have any difficulty complying with this rule.  No cheese is safe in our house.  The other day the Dad of No went to the grocery store and brought home a two pound bag of mozzarella cheese.  The next day, the bag was mysteriously empty.  American cheese slices seem to have a shelf life of about 2 hours.  Cheddar?  Forget keeping that around; within minutes of it being placed in the cheese drawer someone will come sniffing around the kitchen, asking if they smell cheddar, and that's the end of it right there.  My family members seem to have some innate cheese sensory alert system that lets them know that the cheese drawer has been restocked.

The Son of Never Stops Eating loves lasagna.  More accurately, I should say he loves the cheese on the lasagna.  A few months ago, I was making lasagna for dinner and he started lurking around the kitchen, eyeing the kitchen counter.

Me: What are you doing?
Son: Looking at that lasagna.
Me:  Doesn't it look delicious?
Son: I think it needs more cheese.
Me:  I put two pounds of mozzarella in it.
Son: That's not enough.

In our house, cheese gets piled on almost everything except maybe ice cream, which doesn't need embellishment of any kind except hot fudge topping.  Baked potatoes? Cheese.  Steamed broccoli?  Cheese .  Spaghetti and meatballs? Cheese, cheese, cheese! Grilled cheese sandwiches? Yes, please! The gooier the better. Nearly every favorite I can think of involves cheese.  Macaroni and cheese.  Broccoli cheese soup. Omelets with cheese. Greek salad with feta cheese.  Whatever is for dinner, it requires cheese. 

So now that I am thinking about it, the cheese rule may not be what the original question was about.  They were probably asking about curfew rules, or chores, or when the kids did their homework kind of rules.  I have some of those rules also, although I am not big on lots of rules, because it is too much for my peri-menopausal brain to keep track of.  But I will not ever forget that in my house, you can never, ever, have too much cheese*.

*Fortunately, none of us are lactose-intolerant. If we were, the dairy industry in this country would be in big trouble.