Confidence

It's taken some time for me to embrace the morning rush at my house. Every single breathing creature is annoyed to be woken up before they're ready. Even the dogs give me dirty looks while I'm banging around in the bathroom. But I've slowly come to understand that everyone has a better day when I set the tone for them. Good days are the ones where I am showered, made up, fully dressed and lunches are packed before I beg them to wake up. On those mornings I have the time to sit at the counter with them to talk about their plans for the day and what we have going on. There's ALWAYS something going on.

This morning was a good morning. Fully dressed, laundry running and lunches packed. My sweet peas slowly made their way to the kitchen with almost smiles on their faces. They ate toast and bartered over who was feeding the dogs. As the conversation evolved they got into a debate over who's busier and who was most entitled to be tired. To my great delight they acknowledged that we're all equally busy because we still travel in a pack and even if only one of them was at practice or playing a game the other was present. That rationale totally works for me.

Somewhere towards the end of the chatter about the 5th grade social studies project, 2nd grade mass uniforms and cotillion this question comes directly to me.

"Mom, do you think less successful kids are this busy?"

I'm still not sure if it makes me sad that they are questioning how busy they are but I am over the moon that they identify themselves as successful. All good mornings start with confident kids <3 br="br">

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

EL OH EL

My boys melt me.  I am smitten with my husband for a variety of reasons and my son has ALL of those qualities and then some.

They look alike and I love their liquid brown eyes

They think alike and both overanalyze everything

They talk alike and they are flippin' hee-larious

Yin & Yang

Two peas in a pod

You get it?

So all four of us are in the car and we're driving down the road on Sunday going to The Athlete's baseball practice.  Everyone is yammering about something and nothing simultaneously.  And then E says something to The Athlete that requires a response and says

"Right Big Guy?"

And IMMEDIATELY The Athlete says

"Right Little Jacket!"

If you don't know what El oh El (LOL) means it means LAUGH OUT LOUD.  And just that I did.  Chris Farley died five years before my son was ever born, but even he never made me laugh the way those two clowns did in my own car on Sunday.  Thank the good lord for my boys and belly laughs.  May you Rest in Peace Chris Farley.  Your legacy lives on  . . .



Random Tuesday Thoughts

I'm on a business trip this week.  My husband is on a business trip this week.  We're both a little bummed about it.  One kid has free dress.  The other one has a project due and baseball practice.  And a social studies test.  And no Halloween costume.

Got Random?  I'm all over it.

I keep being very proud of myself for getting all the laundry done and then can't quite bring myself to take the clean clothes out of the basket, fold it and deliver to it's true home.  That doesn't really count as being done, huh?

It's been raining in Southern California for a solid week and I am over it.  A solid week except for Sunday afternoon at the Athlete's baseball game.  I look like a raccoon who vacationed on the surface of the sun.  Not a good look when it's pouring rain a mere 12 hours later.  It's more than a little odd.  The Athlete said to me this morning "um, Mom - maybe you should have taken off the sunglasses or put sunscreen all over your face".  He's a lot funnier when he's not right.

My family leaves in three weeks for vacation in Hawaii.  I've been telling myself for the LAST three weeks that I should stick to a diet of twigs and berries so I won't be miserable in a swimsuit for that whole trip.  I ate half a pint of Coffee Heath Bar Crunch on a conference call today.  There's always tomorrow . . .

The dog has been laying under my feet all.day.long.  I've rolled over his legs twice with the office chair and he still hasn't moved.  I should be grateful for the unconditional love.  I think.  I really just wish he'd be that still and quiet in the middle of the night insteading of snoring and begging to go outside.

Go see the UnMom if you're feeling random, too.

A Gentleman Never Panics

Before The Athlete actually attended his first Cotillion last week I am not sure I knew exactly what to expect.  I was so pleasantly surprised and let me just say that a large group of third and fourth grade kids learning how to appropriately interact with each other is OVER THE TOP DARLING.

Gentlemen are required to wear dark suits, a white dress shirt and a tie.  Young ladies must wear a dress and white gloves.  They gather once a month and and learn how make polite conversation, dance with a partner and the necessary ettiquette of a formal meal.  This month's session focused on the Cha Cha and sharing refreshments with your partner.

60 Second Cha Cha Video

Following the dancing, the Host and Hostess showed the ladies how to fold their gloves and give them to their partner to hold while enjoying refreshments.  I panicked on behalf of my boy, because I knew that the tailor had taken so much material out of his suit that he no longer had functioning pockets.  The Host, being a gentleman as well. said to the boys --

"and what do you do if you're wearing a brand new suit and your pockets are sewn shut?  That's OK.  A gentleman never panics and should not look like he is going to cry because he doesn't have his coat pocket available to hold his partner's gloves.  It is perfectly OK to take her gloves and put them inside your coat."

It was a really nice thing for him to say, but this bit of advice also wasn't going to help my son.  His pants had so much material removed from them that the pockets are sewn into the seam  now. There wasn't anything I could do to help him so I continued to watch and love every minute of it.

He seemed to make it out of his first event unscathed and delighted to have been part of it.  He couldn't stop talking about how much fun he had and he practiced ALL of the manners he learned . . . it was truly the sweetest thing.  He didn't even mention that he danced with girls twice his size.  I am pretty sure he was loving it so much he didn't even notice.

Later that night I asked him what he did with his partner's gloves.

"Mom, a Gentleman never panics.  I just put them in my back pocket."

Well, maybe I need the lesson in social graces more than he does.  Dance on handsome.  I'm just as excited about next month as you are.

She's Super Smart and Funny

"Doing homework" with The Princess is one of my favorite things to do right now.  Just a couple of weeks ago she totally surprised E and me by reading an entire book to us.  It's so cool to see her learning and really applying herself.  She's discovered a love for reading that I just adore.  That can be nothing but good for her down the road.

Her favorite pastime in the car or while she's complaining about attentively watching her brother's baseball games is to spell words that I call out to her.  We go right through her sight words and she proudly spells them for me.

c-a-t
r-u-n
a-l-l

And we go on and on.  Good times for a while, but she definitely likes it more than me. I was trying to mix it up at baseball last night and throw in some words that we hadn't done before. So I started adding in things we could see.

t-r-e-e
b-a-t
s-h-o-e

She offers up teeth.

"Yeah, that's a good one.  Be sure you sound it and then spell it."

t-e-e-f

Just like it sounds.  Perfect.

Good While it Lasts

My Athlete is home sick from school this week and stayed in bed a long, long time this morning.  After telling his sister 4,833 times to put on her uniform, brush her hair and put her lunchbox in her backpack we were ready to leave.

I stopped by The Athlete's bedroom to kiss him and tell him goodbye.  He was sweet as pie, of course, and tugged at my heart a little when I turned to leave.

I didn't know The Princess was in the doorway behind me and was BLOWN AWAY when she said:

"I'm sorry you're sick.  I hope you feel gooder."

I thought I might burst into tears or buy her a pony on the way to school.  Unsolicited kindness does not come from this child's mouth.  It was a moment to be treasured for years to come.

And then she said:

"Don't touch my stuff with your sick hands."

Oh right.  There's my daughter.  Go get in the car.

History in the Making

Often I wonder if anything that happens at school, besides recess, has an impact on my kids. Specifically The Princess. She is so unaffected sometimes. Here's our recent conversation about why she doesn't have school today.

P: You know we don't have school on Monday, Mom?

Me: Yes, I know.

P: That's because we're celebrating Doctor King.

Me: Really? Who's Dr. King?

P: Well he was borned a long time ago and he couldn't use the same potty as me because his skin was dark.

{Insert smart ass remark from The Athlete: 'He couldn't use the same potty as you because you're a girl.'}

She pinched him for interrupting her. Moving on now . . .

Me: So we're celebrating him because his skin was dark?

P: No Mom.

Me: What are we celebrating?

P: He had a dream.

P: Then he was at a hotel and got killed.

Well, I guess it's a start. 

The Face of an Angel

For all of her sparkling finery and eye mask dreams, sometimes I think The Princess is a tiny truck driver wrapped in a silken package.  She has the MOST inappropriate sense of humor and a little bit of an evil streak.  In the last two weeks alone, she has lost all of her stars on the chore chart TWICE for hitting, pinching or kicking.  This girl is 5 and weighs 32 pounds, by the way.  Just the tiniest streak of lightening ever!  Anyhoodle . . .

She has been scolded a few times recently for her colorful word choices.  She comes to breakfast this morning with that wicked sparkle in her eye.

She says to her brother

"Yo sucker!"

She gets raised eyebrows and the look from me.  We've talked specifically about this word before.

"What?"


What is her favorite word and always comes complete with innocent blue eyes and a smirk at the edges of her mouth.

"Didn't we talk about you using that word?  Should you be calling your brother a name?"


"Well, I just thought maybe he wanted a lollipop in his lunchbox."


Oh yeah.  Keep trying Princess.  I knew a girl like you one time . . .

So Sure

There are no less than a million things I love about my first born.

His remarkably sweet disposition.

The love he has for and gives to his family.

How aggressively he takes on the things that matter to him.

The perpetual hole where his front tooth should be.

There is one stand out trait that I genuinely admire in him. He is So Sure of himself and where he's going. I admire so much that he has no regard for the status quo and what he thinks someone else is doing or is going to think of what he's doing. He's So Sure that his way is the right way that it just doesn't matter. Case in point, remember Spirit Week? He was the ONLY kid dressed from head to toe in red and even at the end of the day it didn't matter to him that he had gone way over the top. There's a confidence there that was not inherited from me.

This week was not much different. He was at basketball camp at UCIrvine and they competed in teams for points in strategy and spirit, in addition to standard game play. He came home on Wednesday with a painted on moustache and announced that he played for the Moustache Mustangs. Oh-kay

Thursday morning finds me in the kitchen wondering why the box of markers is on the floor and I didn't have to drag Max out of bed to have breakfast before camp. Here comes my Mustang with his painted on moustache. WTF?

Honey, are you sure you're supposed to have a moustache again today?

Mom, I play for the Moustache Mustangs. Yes

Are you going to be embarrassed if no one else has a moustache?

Nope

So that's that. He strutted right into the Bren Events Center and onto the court with a Crayola washable marker in brown above his lip. No questions asked. No stolen glances to see if he was the only one.

It didn't matter, because he was So Sure of his choice. Good for you, Punky. Don't change a thing.

What's Next?

Max has been feeling his way around becoming an adolescent lately. He has always been an old soul, but he has a certain sophistication about him now that wasn't even there at the beginning of the summer. Just today he told my Mom that he was sure his "grown up voice" was coming. Oh-kay!

Recently with me he has been testing phrases and behaviors. Not necessarily pushing the limits (like some other little person who lives here) but just tossing things around to see what gains traction. Last week after a hockey game and a playdate he told me

"Man, Pierce was so pissed at me!"

Insert raised eyebrow here. We talked about the word and why it's inappropriate for young children and what better words he could use to express that emotion. Yes, I do know that's funny coming from me.

I worked from home this morning while he hit golf balls outside. Later I took him to the beach with some friends on my lunch hour(s). It was an idyllic day - pretty weather, well behaved boys, just good stuff. They all spent 90% of the the time on boogie boards and Max got tossed off hard a couple of times and ended up with his feet over his head and sand running out of his nose.

We were chatting at bedtime tonight and I asked him if he had a good time. I always ask

"what was your favorite thing?"

"Mom, it's hard to pick my favorite thing. It was all good except for the sunscreen in my eyes and busting my balls open."

Raised eyebrow . . .

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"It wasn't so good when I busted my balls open. You know my whiffle balls when I was playing golf this morning?"

Riiiiiiiggghhhht - right there with ya, babe!

I'm taking it one day at a time, my friends. Please pray for me!

Fashion Victim

Max and Sophia were doing their choirs tonight and I asked them to get their clothes out for tomorrow. Pia goes through her typical circus of this skirt with that tank top - all to the answer "no".

Max goes through his stack of clean clothes and matches the shirt on top to the shorts on top. They're the same shirt and shorts he wore yesterday.


Me - "Punky, you can't wear that. You just wore it yesterday."


Him - "Mom, people don't like me for what I am wearing. They like me because I'm funny."


Touche', my sweet boy.

My life is my job

“My life is my job”

This was published in an article over the weekend and realized that it’s exactly what I’ve been thinking and unable to articulate for a really long time. Work is what I do to earn a paycheck. My job is to care for myself and the people I love to ensure our happiness and success. My burning question is “how do I do both of them well?”

I am a Certified Meeting Professional and take business very seriously. I had to work in my field full time for five years to even be eligible to apply for the CMP designation and then had to meet the requirements in what seemed like a thousand other ways to qualify for the CMP exam. I have to maintain my status in the industry to recertify every five years and have to be recommended by colleagues and business partners. Blah, blah, blah . . . As important as all of that is to me, and it is, it doesn’t come anywhere near comparing to the importance of my job.

Work is an escape (no really) and an opportunity to contribute to something strategic and far reaching. I manage budgets in the millions and organize groups by the thousands. I develop content, write contracts and edit websites. It’s good work.

My job is a series of carefully crafted answers to adolescent questions like “Why are Jesus’ hands nailed to the cross on my necklace?” That question REALLY came out of Sophia’s mouth. You can’t tell me that’s not a job.

My job is life changing. Not so much for me but the two gorgeous gifts that God trusted me with and the man I am lucky enough to call my husband. The answers that I provide to their mind blowing questions, the attentiveness with which I listen to their concerns and whether or not I wash the t-shirt for that week’s camp have an impact far beyond a careless response to a business question at work.

Lately there seem to be too many days when it’s ALL falling apart.

Work is tense and hectic. It hinders my ability to do my job well.

My job currently requires a lot of paperwork, money and schedule planning and hinders my ability to work effectively. Is there an answer? I have no idea. BUT, what I saw recently and believe to be true is this –

The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.

I am praying a lot more lately than I ever have and believe that caring with all my heart has to count for something until I can figure it out. Until then, I’ll have to use my free time to think of answers to the questions like:

“When a dog dies can he still bark in heaven?”

Wish me luck . . .