A Decade of Leah

Leah at Huntington Beach in June

Leah with a Danish Santa in Copenhagen

My last child has reached the double-digits. This feels like a milestone to me and represents a new phase in my life and hers.

She was born at a crossroads in our family's life. We were getting ready to move to Copenhagen, Denmark for a semester when she arrived. She was born on July 30, 2001, and we boarded the plane on September 3. She was still a newborn with blotchy skin who needed to be nursed every two hours.

I remember being crammed on the plane in the very back with my back aching and my legs cramping for 10 hours. I was excited to go to a country where my ancestors had come from and where my grandfather had served as a mission president during WW II.

But I was terrified of how we'd get along with four kids in a foreign country, one who was a newborn.

Leah was a beautiful baby and turned out to be much easier than a three year old or a seven year old or even a 10 year old because she could be transported easily in a pram and obviously didn't need to walk for long distances. She didn't require home schooling or entertaining.

We were a spectacle--a family of four kids--hopping on buses and trains and taxis. When 9-11 happened and we went to the American Embassy in Copenhagen to pay our respects, I wondered what kind of world Leah would grow up in. Would there be more terrorist attacks and would her life be altered because of it? Though there was nothing I could do to prevent it, I didn't like the idea that all her life she would know she'd was born six weeks before 9-11.

She was a bright spot in a world that seemed condemned to darkness. Those thoughts came to me repeatedly as I ate Danish chocolate at 3 am while trying to get her back to sleep.

Now she is an inquisitive 10-year old who loves people and worries about her family and friends. She loves to do art projects and paint and swim and play with friends. She is a joy to me and a good student and a beautiful girl.

Happy 10th birthday Leah! I love you!

Mother Gothel Meets Huck Finn

what I want this summer!
Artwork by Mary Lee
www.avoidancebehaviorworks.blogspot.com

I have a skewed misconception that summer brings with it much sought after time to nurture flowers, complete long-put-off tasks and focus on all the slackers in the house (mostly me). The dreams of endlessly reading, going to the pool, watching stars, taking idyllic picnics and bike rides have somewhat been realized over the past month, but not as much as I’d hoped.

You’d think I’d know that by now. Reality always comes crashing down about July.

Every Mom I know goes into summer armed with new goals for the kids. By the second week of fighting them I have decided what I want them to do isn’t nearly as important as not hearing them complain. The chore charts and reading charts and pick up the poop charts are written on the white board but ignored. Heaven help the person who tries to walk into the back yard to mow the lawn.

I think all kids grow up thinking that they have more chores than their siblings and that their moms do this on purpose to torment them. NOT FAIR are the two most spoken words in our house.

And I cannot believe that my kids think they need me to make them lunch every day!

Yesterday I turned into “Mother Gothel” from Tangled—the evil Mom who grabs Rapunzel around the arm and hisses, “Don’t ever ask to do that again!” I was violent and I hissed, just like her. Yup. That’s me. Mother Gothel. Also this week my daughter turned into Rapunzel and said, “Mother! Or should I even call you that!” They don’t like me much this summer.

This is what my kids have been doing this summer to “enrich” their minds.

My 13-year old went to an all you can eat pizza place and ate 13 pieces of pizza. His father and I are so proud. Hall of fame for this boy. We’re just grateful he didn’t throw up like the other kids did. He can’t remember to shower and then argues about if he smells or not. He thinks he can spend all day at Seven Peaks without any food or any money to buy a $7 plate of nachos.

My 17-year old daughter tried to fry and egg on the cement. Apparently it wasn’t hot enough. Thus the blob of yolk in the driveway. “We cleaned it up—promise,” she insisted. She has also spent all her income on concerts and Summer Sno (she’s almost bought enough to get a free one—her father and I are so proud) When it’s time to pay for some toiletries or movies she is flat broke.

My 10-year old is literally devastated if she can’t find a friend to play with. Keeping her happy and entertained is often expensive and wearisome and requires me to actually play or cook or do crafts.

I am reading Huckleberry Finn and loving Huck’s descriptions of floating down the Mississippi with Jim at night staring at the stars and listening to the night. I often wish for my own quiet leisure where there is time to think. I actually feel rested as the river images come to life for me.

I like this part the most. Huck says, “Sometimes we’d have the whole river all to ourselves for the longest time . . .It’s lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky, up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made, or only just happened—Jim he allowed they happened.”

“We used to watch the stars that fell, too, and see them streak down. Jim allowed they’d got spoiled and was hove out of the nest.”

This week I will watch stars and float around a bit and try to keep Mother Gothel at bay.

What I've Been Doing

I haven't vanished into winter oblivion. I've been posting at the Daily Herald's Utah Mom Click.

I've found a great illustrator for my posts. My friend Mary Lee, who used to live down the street, is the artist/cartoonist/illustrator. She just happens to be the most creative person I know. I consider myself to be very lucky indeed.

Check out her fabulous cartoons on parenting and family life. I can so relate to all of this, and I am sure many of you can as well.

avoidancebehaviorworks

Here are some of my recent posts.

Elk Antlers?

Courageous Parenting

The Dangerous Descent into Driving

Teenagers and Toilet Paper

Ode to my Teenage Son

Bands, Brackets and Braces

Duh! Can't you Speak Teenager?

Teenage Speak: Understanding their Words

Why are you Wearing that?

Why are you Wearing that in Public?
I hope you can relate to some of these!

Kitty Mama

It's January 18 and I feel like I've been assaulted a bit as a parent, and that America's education system has been similarly raked over the coals, perhaps justifiably.

Last week I went to hear Condoleeza Rice speak at the BYU Marriott Ceneter. I had no idea how much I would like her, and how what she said would speak to me in unexpected ways. I felt uplited to achieve more in my personal life, but also that my hands were tied as a parent concerning my ability to help my children become better educated.

Ms.Rice, who I believe was undoubtedly the best thing to happen to the George W. Bush administration, was stern in her reprimands of the status quo. She said, "The number one threat to national security in America today is the disastrous state of our K-12 system." We are not competitive, she says. Not remotely competitive. Ouch. We all agree that she's right.

How do we become more competitive? She offers several ways, but it seems like my kids will be middle-aged by the time her suggestions can take hold. And then America will be a tortoise, left in the dust by the smarter, faster hares in Asia. But she made me want to do something, to at least try. What exactly I don't know.

In the meantime, there is Amy Chau, the author of "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mama," who is all over the news right now. She makes me proud that I am the wussy tortoise and she is the ruthless hare. I am a kitty Mama, and proud as a peacock about it.

She is a woman who I could not spend five minutes with. She lambasts American parenting, insisting we are coddling our children because we let them have the pleasures of childhood. We don't drill them into the ground with academics and music. Never mind that her own children nervously vomit when they worry they can't live up to her abusive standards. Never mind that Asia's young women between the ages of 15-24 have an astonishingly high suicide rate due to unrelenting pressure.

Her parenting methods work, she claims. She says this is a traditional approach to parenting in China. I doubt many Chinese parents would have the energy, grit or heart (or lack of) to parent their children with such lack of compassion and harshness. It's just too exhausting and emotionally draining. I just think she likes the publicity she's getting for being the "Tiger Mama" and the $800,000 advance she got to write the book. (That part makes be a bit envious, I must admit.)

This Kitty Mama is sickened that she's getting rich writing a book that has a message that is so at odds with the human value that espouses freedom to become anyone you want to become. Amy Chao has forced her children to become what she wants. How will her children every learn to make a decision on their own?

So she makes me want to sit on my butt and watch my kids tiptoe through the tulips, read a little, have a sleepover, watch a movie, go out to lunch, hang out in their pajamas, all the things she says we wimpy American parents do. Hey guys, eat a cheeseburger while you're watching TV!

And I want to punch her in the face and tell her that a person who is truly intelligent is the person who has emotional intelligence. Because if you can't get along with people, you will never find success in life no matter how well you play the piano or what college you graduated from.

I agree with David Brooks of the New York Times. He says that Amy Chau's the wimp, not American parents, because she isn't making her children do the truly hard things like discern the emotional cues of their peers or play on a team or work in groups to figure things out. They don't have to get along with anyone.

Those are the skills that "competitive" people have. I will think about this when I help my daughter with her 10 math problems that she had for homework last night. I will think of this when I ask my son if he has any homework and he says, "No."

Meow.

Top Ten for 2010

I am glad 2010 is over. It has brought many blessings and new and exciting things. But it has also been personally draining and exhausting. I am a goal setter, but not a goal achiever, and this is problematic in a culture that values putting off the natural woman and striving for perfection.

If you are wondering why Michael Jackson is staring at you, skip down to number 10, but y'all come back ya hear?

Here are some happy things about 2010. Yeah, Michael is one of them.

1. The best thing about 2010 was that my daughter had a year of healing, physically and mentally, and she is on her way. We didn't know what to expect. We were terrified as much as any two parents could possibly be, but she is remarkable in the progress she has made and her determination to beat her illnesses. I admire her ability to pick herself up every day and work toward getting better.

2. My brother in law Mike is alive and well. He walks with a crutch and his legs don't work like he would like them to. But he is a medical miracle. He is back at work. He survived a burst illiac artery in June which most people do not. We can't imagine life without his tension-relieving sense of humor and generous nature. It's a good thing that I didn't have to pray at our Christmas family dinner, because I would have been reduced to a pile of mashed potatoes when I think of the blessing of his life, and how we almost lost him.

3. My Mom survived breast cancer and Darren's Mom has recovered from her debilitating auto immune disease. I can't even say what it was because the words are so long. I have high hopes that my Mom's back surgery will be successful later this month, and that her health will be restored. Good luck Mom!

4.Being PTA president has been surprisngly pleasant and enjoyable. It has been rewarding and self-esteem boosting. I feel like I have done well, and can say that I have achieved the goal of doing my best for our school. I am proud of the work that I have done, and actually have some goals in this area that are achievable in the months to come. Wow, achievable goals, who would have thought?

5. Our puppy Theo brings joy and more joy even though he poops a lot and chews things up. He is adorable and fast as snot and we all love him except one person in our family. And that's OK because he has five other people who can't imagine life without him. He is a trail runner and a mountain climber (even a moose chaser) and that makes Darren happy. Darren frequently says what a cool dog he is. This is way more than I had hoped for when we got a dog. Darren was less than enthusiastic, but now we finally have somone in the family who can keep up with my ultra-fit, super outdoorsy husband.

6. Speaking of outdoorsy, I have taken up snow shoeing with Darren and I love it and am starting not to hate winter with the same vitriolic passion that I used to. We have couple unit time and I get to breathe fresh air and exercise while enjoying our beautiful surroundings. And it is so cheap and accessible and easy. One can't fail at snow-shoeing. There is virtually no skill required, (why else would I be able to do it) except it is sometimes hard to get those tennis racquets all buckled up!

7. My shoulder is healed. I can move it almost 100% and this makes me so grateful and happy. I can do anything I want to do without worry or concern, and I am attempting to do just that. It does not pop out of the socket anymore and I truly hope that I will never have to endure seven shoulder dislocations again. The surgery was a great success.

8. Zumba class is a riot and so fun and such good exercise. What an amazing discovery for me. I did it all through the summer and less in the fall, but I resolve (how I despise that word because it is most uncharitable) to keep it up this winter. The music and the energy are fantastic.

9.My kids are healthy and happy (at least it seems that way, one never really knows) and they seem to be growing up to be intelligent, kind, good people despite their mother's erratic behavior. Hooray!

10. And last but not least, my Michael Jackson Wii game (bonus white glove included) that I got for Christmas is "SICK" (to use teenage phraseology). I am thrilled and surprised that I am not a complete washed-out has-been and that I actually have some moves. I beat everyone in the family, probably because I was very "impressionable" when Michael's music was at the height of mania. It swept over me, seeped into my blood and stayed around until Michael was no longer recognizable.

I lived for "stomps" at school when I could rock out to "BAD" and "BEAT IT." And I will never forget when a crowd of my friends gathered in the fall of 1983 in the dark to watch MTV's new video "THRILLER." I secretly wondered how a white 17-year old Mormon girl from Salt Lake City could have Michael's baby someday. That was before he got all gross and freaky! Whoops, not a secret anymore!

Happy New Year!

A 70s Christmas-Da Do Run Run

It was a 70s Christmas for me this year in 2010. I took a trip down memory lane as I went through my stocking. I had thrown a tiny tube of Strawberry Bonne Bell lip smacker (you mothers know that sometimes you have to add a bit to your own stocking) and I was back in the past. Right then and there, while wrapping paper fluttered around me, I smothered that lip gloss all over my mouth so I looked like a three-year old who just got into her big sister's "private stuff."

Smells bring back the strongest memories sometimes, and this smell took me to the Christmas when I got a GIANT tube of Bonne Bell lip smacker in my stocking with a Barry Manilow tape and of course the token orange. I was 13 then, but now I was back in time crooning, "Looks Like we Made It" by Barry Manilow, Shaun Cassidy's "Da Do Run Run Run,"and the Bee Gees's "Stayin' Alive."

I was back in disco class with my best friend Teresa at Cottonwood Elementary in Salt Lake City. The strobe lights were turning on the lunch room ceiling and I had on my bell bottoms. My back pocket was stuffed with that GIANT tube of Bonne Bell and an enormous Goody Comb so I could comb back my feathered hair. A cursive "E" hung from my neck. I had bought it at "Grand Central."

The Bee Gees were the living end, but Andy Gibb was the cutest, we all agreed. And there was no denying how we all felt when John Travolta had on those white pants."Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a woman's man, no time to talk," I grooved. My braces were not the little "brackets" that they call braces today, they were BANDS, and they literally took up my entire mouth for a year and a half. I am sure they sparkled with the disco ball.

In 2010 in my own living room this 44-year old woman was remembering slobbering all over the cover of Shaun Cassidy's album, remembering how my Dad said his music was "asinine." And of course in the privacy of my own room I was weeping silently, "Oh Mandy, how you came and you gave without taking, but I sent you away, Oh Mandy, well you kissed me and stopped me from shaking AND I NEED YOU!" I played that song over and over and wondered if I could ever love anyone as much as Barry obviously loved Mandy, but more importanly would anyone ever love me like that?? I wanted to meet Mandy, this intensely loveable woman and get some tips from her. Sigh.

Back to the present. When we went to my sister in law's later on Christmas day, I said to her, "Look what I got!" I pulled the tube of lip smacker from my pocket and said, "Smell this." She smelled it and got this Oh, is there anything else in this life but this smell look on her face and then said quietly, "Can I put some on?" I nodded, thrilled to find another 70s chick who could appreciate my euphoria. It was just like junior high when your friend asked to share and you said yes, and your Mom said, "Don't share lip gloss!" and you told her that you only shared with Teresa, and she rolled her eyes. Such bad girls.

"The watermelon was amazing too!" we agreed. Next year, I'll take another trip with watermelon.

Winter Pants

An entire season has passed since I blogged last. It's gone from late summer to early winter in a flash. It's gone from the pool, to raking leaves, to carving pumpkins, to stuffing ourselves at Thanksgiving, to stuffing ourselves because it's December. Wow, how easy it is to measure the changing seasons by what you're eating and how your pants fit.

Morning Closet Ritual: Oh, it looks like I'm back in my winter pants. I wish I was still in my summer pants. Much bad lanugage. The only thing to do is put a sock in my mouth and scream bloody murder at the injustice of it all. Curse all the bakers and chocolate makers of the world! Especially those devils in Switzerland, the Linderball (sp?) makers. How dare they think they can control me! I'll show them. Then I spit the sock into the clothes hamper and walk out into broad daylight to face the world.

Ahem.

I did blog a bit on my PTA blog www.cascadepta.blogspot.com, lest any of you might think I had just become lazy. You could just click on it and then I could get my visitors up to 10 or so. That would be a nice thing to do for me since I am so sad about my winter pants.

But it looks like I might be clicking away again soon. It's not because my PTA blog has taken off and fulfilled its intended function--to provide an educational forum for parents--no not at all. Ha! I don't think there's a blog out there that has been more ignored by its intended audience than that one. I think my Mom read it once. Thanks Mom! I can always count on her!

I am going to be a part of "Mom Click," a weekly blogging section about parenting in the Provo Daily Herald. I will be writing about being a mother of teenagers, something I know nothing about but should after all this time. I seem to become worse at it the longer I do it. So if the Daily Herald is hoping for tips or words of wisdom, they have asked the wrong mama. I am struggling with basic communication skills with my teenagers, and I thought I learned to talk a long time ago, like about 43 years ago. Apparently not.

I will "discuss" this on Monday in the first issue of "Mom Click." It promises to be most educational. I don't have the link to that exciting section yet, but it will be forthcoming.

P.S. Goal for this week: Go in and out of the closet quickly. Avoid lingering there.