Category: kids

Here is a photo of the 4 of them right after Alexandra’s fast-pitch softball team won 1st place. Are they the best lookin’ kids in the world or what?

I’m dating my children.
I see them socially about 2 times a month.
We see a movie and go to dinner.
I have them in by 10pm.
And then I go home.
Without them.

All six of us are crammed around a small table in OB for breakfast. It’s Sunday morning at the Little Chef, where all four children can get exactly what they want–from sweet and sour chicken to chorizo or gyros. As if your stomach can even look at those kinds of food before 1pm. Devon, 15, asks his brother Tyler, 11, various math questions to keep his mind occupied while he waits for his Greek platter #1. It’s a small table and there is no choice but for the rest of us to listen in and participate.

D: What’s the square root of 16 plus 4?
Ty: 8
D: What’s 13 plus 5 squared?
Me: Um, wait…it’s..
Ty: 38
D: What is 12 squared minus 20
Ty: 124
Me: Hey. This isn’t fair. I want to play. Can you keep them under 10 please? I don’t know them when you go higher.

The lady in the booth behind us turns around and says, “Ya. Really. Could you keep the numbers under 10?”

Devon, my oldest, and I both have poems published in Arts and Poets this issue. You can pick up free copies at the locations in San Diego listed under ‘Sponsors’ on the left side of the page.

These shirts have bothered me since the first time I saw them. I would never buy one for my daughter, but she hasn’t asked. She’s too smart to think they are clever instead of what they are: demeaning and sending the wrong message.

Girl Power Gone too Far?Dana Williams, Staff Writer for Tolerance.org, explores the issue:

Marilyn Quisenberry, a school psychologist at Lindero Canyon Middle School in Agoura Hills, CA. does not see the trend as a “feminist” plot against pre-teen boys or even as intolerance of boys. Instead, it points to a general acceptance in society of inappropriate behaviors, she said.

Heather Johnston Nicholson, research director for Girls Inc. said, “I think it’s funny when people take the ‘Hooters’ shirts and turn them around in ways that bring attention to stereotypes that demean women,” she said. “But name calling isn’t funny or acceptable no matter what group it’s targeted at. These shirts are simply substituting one power message for another.”

Besides my daughter I have three boys I love very much and I wouldn’t want them to be hurt by these shirts. It just seems stupid.

I don’t know about you” is a game I play with my kids. I don’t feel like I ever see enough of them and I know I miss out on so much. I want to know every little detail. Or at least what they can remember to tell me.

A few things I learned this past week:

Devon hates high school except for journalism club.
Alex loves her math class because her teacher rocks.
Ty didn’t know that pickles were made from cukes.
Anthony doesn’t like Jade anymore.

“Mom. Tell us something we don’t know about you.” asks Alex.
And just when I begin formulating something to say, Ty interrupts with, “Who was your first kiss? How old were you?” And Tony asks, ‘And who was your first boyfriend that you went on a date-date with?” And Devon asks, “And when was the first time you slow danced? *Really* slow danced?”

All of a sudden I realized the danger that this game holds when you have the liberty to ask pointed questions. I would have preferred to tell them something they didn’t know like, “I had cereal every single morning last week.” or “I’ve discovered that the Oxy cleaning product really does get the whites whiter.”

Instead, I told them, “My first real kiss was with a boy named Todd who was two years older than me and two inches shorter. He had lots of curly blond hair and he told me my eyelashes were as long as butterfly wings. He cleaned up at the slaughter house so he smelled sickly like warm, fresh beef and was the brother of one of my best friends. I was in 8th grade. We didn’t talk to each other for a few weeks after the kiss and then became good friends again.” That answer seemed to please them immensely.

In the store yesterday getting ‘green juice’ and goat cheese for lunch. (makes your stomach yearn, doesn’t it?)
Standing behind a young mom with her toddler in the cart.
He looks at me.
I look at him.
‘Boon!’ he says and thrusts his slobbery fist towards me, clutching the string that is attached to a yellow balloon.
I smile.
‘Balloon.’ I say.
His mom turns to me and gives me a shy smile and then gets busy writing out her check.
‘BOON!’ he yells at me.
‘Balloon.’ I say back to him.
He sits back in his little wire chariot and nods his head.
I swear I could hear him thinking:
‘Good job, old lady. Good job. That’s right: balloon.’

If I keep it up I might be in the ‘smart kids’ reading group at school.

I got to see my kids yesterday for about 5 unplanned hours. It was great! Joe and I took them to Kobey’s Swap Meet. There are an incredible amount of things for sale there. And the amount of available sharp object i.e. swords, knifes, machetes etc., is staggering. Thank goodness you can buy so many for so cheap! *hint of sarcasm there*

Joe and I are going to get a dog. Breed, age and color are unimportant as of yet. Our specs are: the right size for the house, right age to be left home alone during the day, without disease. Something smaller than a Golden Retriever and bigger than a rat. We will be canvassing the shelters soon to find the canine that is waiting for us to take him/her home. If anyone knows of anything we should know that we haven’t thought of, which might be quite a few things, feel free to let me know.

quick recap for the kids:
i LOVE you so MUCH! i can still hear you singing seal and jewel songs in the car. don’t drive your dad and mom insane with the whoopee-cushions. : )

Wonderful weekend with my kids.
Anthony is now baptized.
Joe met my parents.
They liked each other.
I’m glad.
Work is good.
Why is that no matter how much money you make, it’s never enough?
I’m juicing.
It’s good for you.
Well, its good for me.
I need a new car that seats six
I need a new car that won’t die in about 10 thousand more miles.
I need a truck that hauls my paintings around.
I’m addicted to The West Wing.
I love my kids.
I love Joe.
I love my home.
I love my job.
I love my life.

There are Wranglers jeans everywhere.
Cowboy hats.
Is that a costume? my child asks. No. It�s just their clothes.
It’s over 100 degrees outside and they are wearing cowboy boots.
Mullets, mullets, mullets.
And even some strange crossbreeds of mullets and military haircuts.
Let your imagination go crazy on that one.
And then there are the Mormon people, which includes my sister and her family. They have this ‘look’ about them and you can usually spot them right away. I’m not sure how to describe this look, but it’s something about clean cut and home-y.
And then there is me and my kids. Huh. We don’t exactly look like natives. (Duh! And that’s a GOOD thing, mom! says Devon…)

I’ve had MUCH much fun with my family this past week. The kids have been such good sports to be driven hours across the desert in a cramped car with no air conditioning. My brother and sisters have been so happy to see my kids and my kids have been so happy to see their cousins. And since I’ve stayed true to form, we’ve had a few extra driving hours here and there (while I drove the wrong direction) for extra family bonding moments….

I’ve taken photos and some will find their way to the gallery site in the next few days.
I’ve been juggling loan consulting while on vaca and it’s been tricky but do-able.
I love being with my kids.
I miss Joe.

Be nice to yourself.

lp

a fair one I guess. I get asked it all the time although people have a hard time maintaining eye contact while they ask. Which is why it gets asked in email a lot.

I’m not sure it’s anyone’s business. But, on the other hand, we are all interested in the situations of our fellow humans. I know I am.

So. The questions are basically these:
Why don’t my kids live with me? Why do they live with their father?
Don’t I miss them? How can I go on living when they are not with me? (usually asked by other mothers)
What did I do to make them have to live somewhere else? (usually asked by men)

When their father and I separated, I had no means of taking care of them and was suffering from a mental illness. I made the hardest choice in my life to leave them and get well.

Their father had to be both mom and dad to them. He got them through what must have seemed like abandonment by their mom and tried in every way to help them see that I loved them and that it wasn’t their fault that I had to go and that I was going to get well eventually. Which I did.

A lot happens in a year. He moved them to a new neighborhood for a fresh start. He got them enrolled in things and started them in school. He gave them stability and schedules. He got remarried. They have a life there with a school, church network, friends and a neighborhood.

Although legally they could spend half of their time with me and half with their father and his wife, you have to consider what’s best for the kids. Is it best for them to be enrolled in 2 schools and have 2 sets of friends and have 2 church groups and 2 neighborhoods? I know some couples do this and I’m not knocking their way. I’m just telling you that it isn’t what their father and I decided was best for our children. Living 2 lives brings with it so many downsides that it makes the most sense for the kids to live primarily in one place. At this time, it’s with their father. It may always be so. Or it could change later. I can’t read the future. And I’m not going to worry about it. I’m just going to enjoy the now.

Do I miss my kids? Of course! I miss them everyday. And I ache for them. And I pray for them and wish things for them. How can I go on living? Because the alternative is stupid! I want to live and see them grow and change. Why would I choose anything different?

All that being said, I have to say it’s a little irritating. Men, I don’t think, get asked these kinds of questions when they don’t live with their kids. I have more compassion for those dads now that I know what it feels like to miss out on all the ‘little life-things’ that happen everyday I’m away. And I know I miss out.

I allow myself a certain amount of sadness over these feelings and then I press on with life. Because I have to. I refuse to wallow in self pity. I refuse to have a negative outlook on my life. I refuse to let the things I don’t like in my life outrank the things that I do like. And I didn’t work so hard for so many years to pull myself out of a mental hell to not do something worthwhile and positive with my life. Hence the book and the art therapy work. I do what I can with what I have and enjoy every single blessed moment I get with my beautiful children.

quick recap for the kids:
i love you.
mom