Apple Snob!

I've raised an apple snob! No, really...It's true!

Ever since the beginning of Fall...A trip to the apple orchard and some apple sampling...it became apparent that London isn't going to settle for a mere, every day apple. She has standards and they are H.I.G.H (we can only hope her apple picking expertise extends into the men she chooses to date!).

For lunch today, I cut up an apple and placed the beautiful, fleshy fruit in front of her with the perfect red/green/yellow color ratio. With her beautiful baby blues cast upwards, she says, "Mom, is this a Sweet Tango?" Now her love of the Sweet Tango has caused me to do some research and they are only available in the early, early part of Fall but we have been surprised a few times and found a small stash in the most unlikeliest of places. So, her love affair has been extended past their normal picking season.

But on this day, I say, "No...I think it's a Honeycrisp." She is not impressed. In fact, she won't even touch it, which drives this mother insane. The apple she begged for a few moments ago (the discarded one now) is not cheap.

So, I say, "You better not think you're going to waste a perfectly fine apple." And the easy-going child she is, relents and very slowly devours the less-than-superior apple.

Now her snobbiness isn't just in brand alone...She will follow me around the apple section, picking the prettiest fruit. At each apple barrel, she will say, "Mom are these Sweet Tangos?"...."Ok, how about these ones?" She will dig far and wide in hopes of finding a hidden, secret dash. We did get lucky one day at our local grocery store. Her eyes lit up...She ran to get the biggest produce bag she could find....She filled it up. She had no regard for the fact that my grocery bill just went up by $50 because of apples. And ever since that day, when an inferior apple is placed in front of her, she will say, "Mom, remember that day when I found all the Sweet Tangos?"

"Yes, Honey, I remember. It was a good day!"

And a apple snob was created!

Doggie Dreams

I love dogs. I love our dog.

But something has changed around here and I'm not sure how it happened. You see, each night, Emme was let outside one final time and then put in her crate for the night.

Then, one July night, during our normal 3 mile walk (Nothing like a giant, full-of-energy dog to motivate a person to walk more!), she was staggering and struggling a bit. She couldn't make it home. Her hips had given out. This was something we never experienced before. I was used to her boundless energy and athleticism. After all, she's only two years old.

On this night, she was allowed to sleep on the floor by our bed so we could watch her closely. She didn't even move. A trip to the vet. A "hip dysplasia" diagnosis. And she's still sleeping on our floor. beside our bed. And..wait...if I look closer, there's something there that wasn't there before...what is that? A gigantic dog bed made out of Memory Foam? Oh my! Don't. Even. Ask...It must have been a weak, weak moment because those things are NOT cheap!

Ok, this sleeping beside our bed really isn't the problem. The problem lies with HOW she sleeps. She is the quietest dog I have ever met...Not kidding...She doesn't bark...EVER! You can come to my front door, ring the door bell....She doesn't bark. She will stand and look at you, tail wagging, huge smile on her face (you can see it, can't you? One of those big Golden Retriever grins?), but not a sound will come from her.

So, how can this quiet dog because such a NOISY sleeper? I swear she's making up for lost time...She dreams. loudly. She pants, whinnies like a horse, gallops through fields (or so we imagine), she huffs and puffs. And have I mentioned how LOUD it is? Like I'm afraid she's going to wake the kids...and she doesn't startle out of these dreams easily. The kind-of-whispering-but-you-know-i-mean-business "EMME!" doesn't wake her. Most times, I have to nudge her awake. So, now you guessed it, I'm awake too! Arrrr....And if you've been paying attention, you know how much sleep is a rare commodity around here.

I love dogs. I love our dog. I HATE doggie dreams!

Love and Logic

Most of my parenting woes begin with the words, "How can I do this better?" Many times, it keeps me up at night, wondering if there's some secret code I'm missing.

But tonight...On this day...I got it right! And I mean, I really, really nailed it. And it wasn't one of those "tough love" moments which leaves both of us feeling rotten, even if it is for the greater good of the person we're raising. It was a moment, just one line, actually, which ended an argument with our oldest child.

To him, we're the strictest parents. It's a common argument in the Garry Household. If we're not trying to ruin his life, we're holding him hostage by our rules. Normally, we would enter this conversation, once again, reiterating our moral and value system...things he HAS to have memorized by now. To be honest, I'm sick of hearing myself say it anymore.

But on this night...I saw the warning signs...I knew where his foul mood was going...And I nipped it in the bud! It started off like it normally does..."Why can't I have that video game? Everyone has it. I'm not a baby, you know. Let me lead my own life!" (I particularly like this statement coming from my 11 year old. I find it hilarious! And maybe myself reflected in his eyes).

And honestly, I saw it differently this time. I don't know what it was...maybe divine intervention...but I was truly empathetic. It didn't change my value system, but I did see it from his point of view...And this isn't even the most amazing part yet...

I said in response, looking him in the eye, holding his hand, "I'm sure it feels that way to you. I can totally see how it would feel that way."

I think his mouth may have dropped open. He was speechless. He loves to garner a reaction out of his mother. In fact, nothing pleases him more, I'm certain. And even though he invited me to partake in his argument, I didn't accept!

However, i have to give credit where credit is due. We're using some techniques from "Love and Logic" and it has worked wonders with our kids. It can be applied at any age (and I think the younger, the better) and it has dramatically improved our relationship with Logan for many reasons, but mainly because I've realized as his parent that he is responsible for his own behavior. And while I can give him all the tools and skill set needed, it's still up to him to choose the behavior. But most importantly, I've realized that even if he does fail and make mistakes, which he will inevitably do, I will still love him. We let logical consequences take place and it has let me off the hook per say. It's not my job to make sure homework is done or he passes 5th grade or gets into college. It's up to him.

I've realized I can be his parent again. And I can love him for him.

Fried Eggs and Bacon

What do married women do more than single women?

DIET!

It's true...but not entirely shocking, is it? I mean, I don't know the last time I came across a married who was comfortable with her weight. She's either working out 2 hours every day or on some crazy diet.

I am now a statistic. I've had a terrible time shedding the extra pounds since the birth of baby #3. I know babies change our bodies, but this one RUINED it. And you can say all you want about how beautiful the body is of a woman who has given life three times, but I lose all sense of reason and logic when the clothes off (or when I have to shop for new clothes because nothing else fits!). I've never had a huge issue with weight, which is why I can't quite believe I'm here and I don't know how this happened. Regardless, it's time to get a handle on it.

Before I got pregnant this last time, i lost some weight on Belly Fat Cure. It's a low carb diet. It was the first time where I felt motivated to eat healthier because the pounds just fell off...Seriously! Every day, I felt lighter and I thought the plan was really easy to follow. I never felt deprived.

So, I decided to try it again. And it's harder....And I miss chocolate...And I'm SO sick of eating eggs and bacon every day. In fact, I am so sick of them that I had a serving of Doritos for breakfast this morning:
 1 Carb, 2 sugars! Yippee!

quite possibly the worst thing about being a parent...

and it's not what you think: it's not the sleeplessness, or endless dirty diapers, or vomit, or the astronomical cost of formula.

It's daycare!

In the last few months, I've had friends returning to work after the birth of their babies. Some of them wish they could stay home full-time, others are ready to head back to the work force, some are anxious and torn about being in one place while their child is in another. They are terrified of not finding that "balance"..(Balance? What balance? I have yet to discover it!)

I think I've been in all 3 camps. Working or staying home is never an easy choice to make and I often think that if daycare costs weren't so high and it didn't come down to numbers in the end, what kind of choice would I make? We have fiscally reached the point where the number of children we have versus the kind of money I could bring home after daycare costs made the decision for us.

But I do remember quite well when I was in the wild throes of it. Oh, the decisions to make!!!

Trying to find the perfect combination of loving care with a bottom line that makes sense. The two don't normally go hand-in-hand. I found a center I loved...I mean, I really, really loved it. I still do! When I think back on those days, it's only fondly. They were so good to my kids and the director was amazing. Did I mention how much I like video surveillance? But it wasn't cheap! After paying for daycare each week, I think only brought home something like $25. I'm not kidding...But this is how I looked at it: I pay for quality in a pair of jeans, I will pay more for a reliable vehicle, so why in the world would I not do the same when it came to child care? The people who are spending the majority of their day with my children? But after paying the hefty price tag each week, the time came where we needed to make some decisions. And we decided it was best if I was home. Not sure who decided my sanity wasn't worth something...but here we are! (only kidding, of course! I do enjoy being home for the kiddos!). 


And have I mentioned how jealous I am of those who don't actually have to pay for daycare? You are the luckiest bunch in the whole wide world! You get to leave for work each day knowing that your kids are in good hands (after all, they probably raised you!) AND keep your paycheck--WIN, WIN!

So, I'm just wondering how much easier it would be if daycare wasn't part of the parenting equation?

The importance of being "lived in"

Recently, a divorced friend of mine became an "empty-nester"....Her and I are very similar in our personalities. She loves a neat and tidy house, she's orderly, her expectations of all relationships are clear-cut and well-known, she's very forward and not afraid to express her true feelings--almost to a fault at times. 

For as long as I've known her, she's always complained about how her house has never stayed clean for more than hour. How she cleans and cleans and cleans to no avail. It never stays that way! I think any mother can relate to her anguish. Our efforts feel futile at times. However, her and I are different in the sense that our house HAS to be clean (really! I'm not kidding! Ask my kids!!!). It causes us great anxiety to have things out of order, in disarray. We should probably be medicated! :D

Upon one of our first meetings since her last child left for college (Number 4!), I asked her how it felt to walk into her clean, just-as-i-left-it, not-a-thing-out-of-place house and her answer surprised me. In fact, I almost fell out of my chair. She said, "It's awful"..."why?" I ask. I mean here I had been a little bit jealous that a). She now has all the time in the world to clean her house and b). it stays that way--Like a dream come true in my world! 

"It's not lived-in anymore. I keep walking into the bathroom to pick up towels off the floor and then remember that no one lives here anymore. I go grocery shopping to stock the fridge and the milk goes sour because no one lives here anymore. I could feed the local Banquet with my leftovers. I don't know how to cook for one. I make these gigantic casseroles and then remember no one lives here anymore." 

I watched her eyes fill with tears and I saw so much sadness in the fine lines on her face. The jealousy I was feeling a mere moment before quickly left and was replaced by grief. 

I'm one who believes there are no accidents in life. Everything happens for a reason. Every day is filled with "teachable" moments. On this day, she taught me the importance of being "lived-in"....How short-lived "lived-in" is...and the relevance of the "lived-in" moment. 

So, while it's not easy to "teach an old dog new tricks", I am trying to overlook the mess (as much as I can!) and remember that this too shall pass and to LIVE IN the moment...

Sleep is overrated!

I suspected this would happen--it's bound to! After all, there is 10 years between our oldest child and our youngest.

Let me explain...Last night, Logan (our oldest) asked if he could be "dropped off" at open gym last night. This request was followed by a series of phone calls, whom I suspected were mainly from girls. This is new territory for us...Like we've stumbled upon a foreign land. I'm not very good at merely "dropping off"...I prefer to chaperone, but I know it's best to learn the art of letting go now. So, it seemed innocent enough. I wasn't even too worried. Then I dropped him off. I watched a circle of screaming girls surround him. I looked around and didn't see a single parent anywhere nearby. I started to worry. Caught up in my own nervousness, I realized I was holding up traffic, so I quickly exited the parking lot. As I rounded the corner, headed for home, my mind began a series of "what ifs"...So, I thought to myself, "What harm could there be in just driving by one more time to make sure he got in ok and that he doesn't need me." So, I circled the gym one time, rounded the corner (again!) and headed for home. I got to the same intersection and thought, "Maybe I should just see if he's waiting for me ONE time. Then this is it...seriously! No more stalking him!" So, I did. I circled the parking lot, hoping to catch of glimpse of him, but nothing. Then I rounded the corner (AGAIN!) and headed for home. I was tempted to drive by just once more, but this time I was going to sneak in and observe for a bit. Then decided against it. He would be mad and embarrassed and I really need to learn to let go a little bit. Reluctantly, I went home and never has 40 minutes taken so long to pass. 

Picked him up promptly at 9, he seemed a little off, but nothing he was willing to share with his mother! And did I mention he was also totally embarrassed to be dropped of in a minivan? Oh man! Where did my baby go? How did this happen? All I did was blink...I swear!

Then as I'm rehashing the night in my head, wondering how I can do this better, I dozed off to sleep. I awoke at midnight...Normally, Leyton wakes up for a feeding around this time, so I laid there and waited for his familiar cries, but heard nothing. I dozed off a bit more, woke again at 1 AM and waited. This time, I woke up Brad to ask if he'd gotten up to feed him. Nope! So, I laid there, unable to sleep--worried he was in trouble, but more worried I'd risk waking him up if I checked on him. He's never slept more than 6 hours at a time. He was pushing 8 hours. Then 3 AM rolled around, I'm still awake and really worried now. It's been almost 10 hours. He's dead, I'm certain of it. So, I decide I'd rather risk waking him and I tip toe into his room. He's sound asleep, snoring softly.

As I climb back into bed, I reflect back on our day. It felt like I've gone from one end of the spectrum to another. A boy on the cusp of the teen years, dealing with girls and drop-offs and a baby just learning to sleep through the night. How did this happen? Between the tweenager and the baby, I may never sleep again!