No Fun, Really

Monday was Miss M’s “Princess Day.”

Gramma, Aunt Lizzie, and I – along with Pierce, Owen, and PK’s girlfriend, Memphis – took her for a day of full girly-ness.

First stop was the hair salon, where Miss M. had her locks shorn and straightened. (Not permanently straightened, thank heavens. Mommy likes her waves!)

There was shopping. And lunch at Old Country Buffet (one of Miss M’s favorite places) where they made a nice loud announcement wishing her a Happy Sweet Sixteen.

Once we were stuffed almost to the point of being immobile, it was off to the nail salon.

Best hair cut of the day was definitely Owen’s:

He’s had a Mohawk since last fall, when his beloved hero and cousin, PK, got one. This is the first one decorated with blue gel, and he got compliments everywhere we went. Including one he couldn’t resist telling us about over and over. (Whispered) “That guy said, “That’s the shit!”

There was more shopping. And some driving around in circles and loops and figure-eights because we made the mistake of following Aunt Lizzie. 🙂

And then it was time to drag ourselves and our stuff home.

I really pity Paris Hilton now. I never realized that all this hair and nail and shopping stuff could be so tiring. Poor girl must be half-asleep all the time, because I was so exhausted when we got back that all I wanted to do was go to bed. At 7pm.

But we totally did not have fun. Not at all.

R-L Bottom: Memphis, Miss M, Owen, Pierce. Top: Aunt Lizzie, Gramma, Me

Sweet Sixteen Today

“My, how the years have flown.”

Cell Phone Self-Portrait by Miss M.

My beautiful girl,

When you were born and the doctor announced, “It’s a girl!” I couldn’t have been more surprised. Sometimes, when I glance across the room, I’m still surprised.

Surprised and humbled, just as I am with your brothers, that I could have had any part in creating such a beautiful soul. Surprised that you’ve somehow grown another inch. Surprised that time has flown by so very quickly.

Parents say this a lot, but it is true – it seems like just yesterday that I was hearing the doctor announce, “It’s a girl!” Just yesterday … that we finally picked a name for you, or rather that you chose your own name.* Just yesterday … that we brought you home from the hospital. Just yesterday … that I walked you to school for the first time. Just yesterday … that you started wearing eyeliner and thinking about boys. Just yesterday…

In the sixteen years since your birth, you have grown into an amazing young woman I am proud to know and whose very presence brightens and enriches our home and our lives.

You are beautiful and intelligent. Good-hearted and generous. Full of laughter and more than a hint of mischief. A young woman who stands strong for her principles, who believes in herself, her own value, and her own power.

Today, you are standing on the verge of adulthood, with all its promise – and all its terrors. I want you to know that even the sky is not the limit for you, my darling child. Dream your dreams, work hard to make them come true, live your life in joy and hope, and there is nothing you can’t accomplish.

I love you, baby girl.

Happy Birthday.

— Mom

– – – – – – – –

* “All babies should have a story,” my grandmother said. Read Miss M’s story here.

My Trip to Herkimer

Names have been changed except in cases where I couldn’t think of a cool nickname, so I just give the relationship. And Miss Lizzie better thank me for not using the nickname the brothers gave her! 🙂

I love day-trippin’, as I said in the previous post. Yesterday was a blast!

This was a family trip – 11 people total – and we started the day at 730am with breakfast at Gramma and Grampa’s. Eggs, sausage, Belgian waffles, French toast, three different kinds of muffins.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, it was time to put butts in seats.

As you can imagine, with 11 people, seating arrangements were a priority. I figured I’d be driving something, but I didn’t expect to get to drive the new business truck — a Mitsubishi Fuso. I was only driving it as far as Binghamton though, to drop it off to the dealer-authorized repair shop. Made Miss Lizzie (sister #2) ride with me, since I’d never driven it before and because, in case something went wrong, I’d have moral support. Which turned out to be a good thing.

PK drove the van, a Dodge Sprinter, and Grampa drove the Avalon. Owen (the nephew) rode with Grampa in the car, while Miss M, Pierce (the niece), PK’s girlfriend Memphis, along with Gramma, the step-sis, and the step-sis’s boyfriend rode in the van.

The plan was simple – once we reached Binghamton, PK would continue on I-81 while Grampa and I made a three-mile detour to drop off the Fuso. We’d catch up in no time.

Everything’s going nice and smooth. The Fuso is a freakin’ joy to drive. And then…

Vacay and Day-Trippin’

Now that summer’s in full swing, thoughts turn to getting away.

I’m not a resort vacationer. Nothing was more stressful to me than the two times we left home for a week or more for a place like Disney World.

Standing in lines with cranky, tired kids, spending boatloads of money on bad food and “prizes” that will probably be thrown away within a month, listening to the kids bicker from Day Two onward, all the while imagining our house has burned down, but no one can reach us. (It’s just one of those irrational fears, since 10-20 people would be calling at once if something actually happened, but still I worry about it.)

Plus having to come home and catch up on all the work that’s been sitting there waiting for me.

Then discovering someone ate half a tuna sandwich before we left, and the other half has been sitting in the trash can, stinking up the house for a week. In July.

Ugh! No, thanks.

I’m a back-to-nature vacationer. I liked hiking, especially hiking to World’s End State Park as a kid at Camp Lackawanna, but now I have to find easier trails, and I can’t carry nearly as much as in the old days.

I like camping – love it, in fact, whether it’s camping on the beach or in the woods.

McCain Says: Family=Male/Female Parents

[I don’t intend to make politics a big part of this blog, but this is one of those times when parenting and politics collide. — Jenn]

Via Shakesville, Reason # 3582668 for Why I Won’t Vote For John McCain.

From a man who cheated on and later divorced the wife who waited through the many years he was a prisoner of war. The mother of the two sons he adopted and the daughter they had together:

Mr. McCain, who with his wife, Cindy, has an adopted daughter, said flatly that he opposed allowing gay couples to adopt. “I think that we’ve proven that both parents are important in the success of a family so, no, I don’t believe in gay adoption,” he said. [New York Times]

Proven? Who’s “proven” this? As a single, straight mom, I call bullshit.

Are gay parents somehow less equipped to give a child a loving home? Are straight parents somehow more equipped?

Easy Meals

Want to make a nice dinner, but short on time? That’s why the Goddess sent us crockpots! Plus, you can make a great meal without turning on the oven.

Doing most of the prep work a day ahead makes it even easier.

Crockpot Pot Roast

Parenting Advice

About the time a woman’s pregnancy starts showing — say 5-6 months along — a silent signal goes out, and she is quickly inundated with advice. Some great, some good, some bad, and some freakin’ horrendous.

What I consider the best advice I’ve gotten has changed over the years as my children aged, but my current favorite is:

“If your child doesn’t periodically claim to hate you, you’re probably not doing it right.”

I heard this a lot during the preschool years, and again during the pre-teen ones and again during the mid-teens. The boys haven’t said it in a long time, but I still hear “I hate you” on a regular basis these days, thanks to the not-quite-sixteen-year-old who would desperately love to convince me that fifteen years, eleven months is “almost exactly the same” as sixteen. It’s almost a badge of honor to be such a “horrible, rotten mother” that her daughter isn’t allowed to go on car dates even though “everyone else is allowed to!” 🙂

The worst advice I ever got?

“To make sure your children respect you, you should spank them every single day.”

No, seriously. I got that one in a parking lot when I was hugely pregnant with my second child and trying to convince an overtired two-and-a-half-year-old that he absolutely had to wear shoes if he wanted to go into the store. The woman in the car next to mine suggested I give RC a “good slap across the face” and implied not doing so would result in his growing up to be a sex-and-drug addict with a drinking problem who would kill us all in our sleep, probably while singing show tunes.

It’s got to be one of the few times when I didn’t just think, “Holy hell, you’re insane” but said it out loud, while still near the crazy person.

So, what’s the best and worst advice you’ve ever gotten about parenting?

It’s Independence Day

I wish you all a safe and joyful holiday.
Please remember: kids and fireworks do not mix!

Quick and Cheap Meals

Love Hamburger Helper™, but can’t afford the price? Make your own!

As the title says, it’s quick and cheap – two things a mom loves – and it tastes great.

Mom’s Burger Casserole

1/2 – 1 lb lean ground beef, depending on family preference
2 packets beef gravy mix
1 bag egg noodles
1/2 small onion, chopped
1 clove fresh garlic, chopped fine
2 cups water
Salt/pepper to taste

To Make: In a saucepan, brown onion and garlic in a bit of oil until soft. Add burger and one packet of gravy mix. Stir until well mixed and mostly browned. Mix in 2nd gravy packet and add both cups of water. Stir well. Reduce heat to low.

Boil water in a second pot for egg noodles. When the water is rapidly boiling, add noodles, stirring constantly until water begins boiling again. When noodles reach desired softness, drain, and place in serving dish. Add burger sauce immediately and toss.

Substitutions: If you like cheesy mac, use 1 packet of gravy mix and one packet of cheese from boxed macaroni and cheese or 1 cup fresh grated cheddar. Like stroganoff? Add sour cream before tossing.

Servings: I have no idea. It feeds two sons with huge appetites, a 16yo daughter, and a mom. In RDA terms, that’s probably 6-8 servings.

Greetings!

Welcome to The Mom Speaks!

I hope that in the future this can become a great community of moms – and grandmoms – who can offer their expertise, share lots of laughter, and hand out tissues and chocolate when needed.

I’m sure you’re wondering who on earth I am. Well, I’m the mom of two sons: 21-year old RC and 18-year-old PK; and one daughter – the fabulous “Miss M” who will be sixteen in a month. We live in scenic, rural northeastern Pennsylvania nearly on the New York border.

Somehow, I managed to get my children this far without anyone having been arrested, put in rehab, or being killed by me. Not even after using my favorite – expensive – skin lotion to lube the Slip’n’Slide, or getting a third speeding ticket in two weeks, or having their first auto accident at age four… rolling my SUV into his father’s car. (Try explaining that to the insurance agent!)

I learned a lot of things the hard way, but what really got me through was the moms who’d already been there and done all that, who showed me what to do – and what not to do – without taking over or making me doubt my abilities as a mother.

Without my mom and aunts, older cousins, and friends, I would never have survived those early, sleep-deprived weeks with a newborn, the terrible two’s, the first days of kindergarten and the first emergency room trips — and all the later trips — talking about puberty and then having “The Talk,” and dealing with dating, sex, and responsibility issues during my childrens’ pre-teen and adolescent years.

I’m not sure where this blog will go or what wild territory it might cover, but I’m going to start off with my small stock of tips and tricks for dealing with children of all ages (especially your own), some advice for new moms of all ages, easy recipes and ideas for saving on your food budget, as well as hints for cleaning and dealing with clutter.

I’ll also be sharing a lot of my favorite stories about my kids, like the time my oldest decided to try jumping off the porch roof using a sheet as a parachute. Or the time my daughter misheard the lyrics to a song and asked me if I’d be throwing my panties in the fountain of youth. Or the time, my middle child misheard the state trooper who’d pulled me over for a broken taillight and thought I was about to be arrested.

I’ll probably even throw in some other stuff I’ve learned through the years about dealing with divorce when you have children, throwing birthday parties that don’t break the bank, ending (or at least easing) the homework and supper-time hassles, and learning to accept that perfection is an unattainable goal.

Parenting isn’t easy, but just having another voice to say, “You’re doing fine,” can make it a little easier.