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For Every Action

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Friday afternoon I took my kids to the play place at a local mall. They had a great time, running off some energy and playing with other kids. But about 30 minutes into our visit, I noticed a little boy playing there, who looked to be about four years old, was wearing a t-shirt that said, in large letters, “No, YOU F***ing Calm Down!” Except it said the actual word, with no lovely asterisks, but with a real u-c-k.

Seriously.

I am guessing that by dressing their child this way, his parents, (who looked like BonQuiQui Barbie and Tupac Ken) were hoping to get a reaction of some sort out of someone. Fortunately, I am not dumb enough to confront two tough-looking strangers at the mall play place, so I kept my reaction silent.

Until now. An open letter.

Dear Parents of the Boy with the “F” Word T-shirt at the Mall Play Place,

What is WRONG with you? Perhaps it is a point of pride with you that your four-year-old’s lexicon (look it up) includes the “F” word, and that his clothing gave the proverbial middle finger to everyone who laid eyes on him. I don’t know. But it made me want to vomit. And I am so, so thankful that my six-year-old, who can read (bigger words than that even, try not to feel intimidated) didn’t see L’il Expletive (again, look it up) rockin’ the F-bomb shirt. Because, really, “Mommy, what does f***ing mean?” is not what I want to hear out of MY child’s mouth.

You made me really mad by bringing your son to the mall with that shirt on. But I got over being mad, and was just thankful that my son was oblivious. Then after FLEEING the play place (thanks for that), I just felt really, really sad. Sad for your son, because I am guessing if that’s what you clothe him with, that you’ve instilled an “f-you” attitude in him as well. Perhaps he thinks already, at his young age, that the world owes him something (everything?). I gotta tell you, this isn’t going to serve him well. Not in kindergarten, not in school, work, family relationships, friendships – not anywhere. You’re setting your son up for failure. And he deserves more than that. He’s a child. Don’t give him the adult responsibilities that come with wearing that word on his chest.

And also? Pick another play place.

And also? Don’t cut me.

Love,

Jenny

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It really is too tight.

Kate has always been realllllllly particular about the way her clothes feel. Nothing can be tight – elastic waistbands are a must. There’s no method to her madness, either – one day a pair of pants will be fine and the next they “hurt” and are too tight. So many of her pants go unworn because they don’t feel good to her.

It drives me bananas. To put it mildly.

Yesterday we saw that Target had knit summer clothes on sale for $4, so we took both the kids to stock up. We bought Kate a bunch of little skirts and t-shirts that all matched each other so that she can mix and match and be fine. When we got home, I had her try them on before I took off the tags. She tried on a navy blue one first, and as soon as it was on she started squirming and doing her “it’s too tight” dance. I immediately got mad. I hate to say it, but it’s true. I was mad because there was no way that cotton skirt was uncomfortable, but sure enough she was acting like it.

She decided to try on the rest of the skirts, even though I told her it was pointless because they were all exactly the same. She insisted that the rest of them felt great, and I insisted that that was impossible because they were all exactly the same and I was going to take them all back rather than risk her deciding tomorrow that the rest of them didn’t fit.

I was steaming. I’m not proud of it. This is a hot button issue between us, but I have got to learn to remove my emotions from it and calm down.

In any case, we were still in the midst of our discussion about how all the skirts were the same, and she had just said “I don’t know why Mommy. The rest of them feel great,” when I happened to catch a glance at the tag on the navy skirt.

It was an extra-small.

The rest of them are smalls.

I immediately apologized to her and told her she had been right all along, and she was fine. But I felt like complete crap. It was a good reminder for me to hear her out rather than immediately jump to freak-out mode, which is exactly what I do when she complains about clothes being uncomfortable. Most of the time her complaints seem so irrational to me, but sometimes, at least, they are real to her, and I need to pay attention.

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Random Musings

I don’t have one thought that’s worth writing a post about, so I’m going to write a post about a few various thoughts (which aren’t worth posting about). Yeah. It’s been that kind of week.

Random thought #1: Sammy had a cold over the weekend and in the process he forgot how to sleep. His head cold is all better now, but his sleeping habits? Not so much. He’s decided he prefers to sleep while being held and rocked in the rocking chair, as opposed to his bed. Holding and rocking him is really lovely. But not all night. So. None of us have been getting much sleep and it’s about been the death of me. Andy took one for the team last night and handled it all, because I was just out. Out so hard that this morning I wondered if I had taken Tylenol PM without remembering I had done so. Anyway, Sammy needs a hard-core crash course in learning how to sleep again, but because his new favorite thing to say from his crib is “Mommy! I neeeeeeed you!” I am finding that easier said than done.

Random thought #2: Yesterday I heard a podcast about a new trend called “sex-ercising.” Apparently pole dancing classes and the like are all the rage. They even have private group classes, who knew? So I tweeted to the #bigdealmoms that I know what our next outing will be. With the exception of Andrea saying she was game (shocker!), all I heard was crickets. I hope they realize I was kidding, because, you know, have they met me? I won’t even karaoke! And I have a life policy against dancing. Of any variety! Especially that variety.

Random thought #3: Last Sunday I got a wild hair and decided it was time to get my house spic and span. I googled “spring cleaning” and printed out Martha’s checklist. I started with the kitchen – I took down the curtains and washed them, scrubbed the walls, the ceiling and the floor, and cleaned the cabinets and the woodwork. And when I was done? Well, there were still dishes in the sink and you couldn’t really tell I had done anything. But I felt I had accomplished something, even if no one will ever know. The rest of the house is on tap for this weekend.

Random thought #4: I am a sucky mom and totally missed t-ball sign ups. Kate really wants to play and I really want to get her registered, but for the name of whomever runs the little league in our town is a CIA-level secret or something because no one seems to know and I have no idea who to call. So, if any G-town people happen to be reading this and know who I can bribe to get my kid on a t-ball team, please let me know!

Random thought #5: I need a good book to read. I’m just about finished with “Not Without My Daughter” (yes 1990 called and wants its book back, I know) and now I need something else to read, specifically something I can listen to in the car. Because I’m pretty sure the Bob and Tom show is rotting my brain. Any suggestions?

Random thought #6: Speaking of rotten brains, I think I can speak for Jenny here when I say that it seems we’ve both been in a bit of a blogging funk this week. In case you couldn’t tell. Which I’m sure you could. However, Mommin It Up is going through a metamorphosis this weekend, so with any luck we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled neurotic selves by Monday.

That is all.

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