My Black TinkerBell

Halloween Y’all!  It used to be my favorite holiday.  I say used to because now, the idea of getting three kids dressed into colorful and pain-in-the-ass costumes complete with wigs, wings and make-up makes me want to slit my wrists.  (And I mean that in the most non-offensive way.)  

Not to mention the idea of heading out into the dark with a bunch of kids that are dressed nothing like themselves and then dragged into a crowd of people that are probably dressed just like your kid.  This sounds like and episode of Unsolved Mysteries waiting to happen.

Truthfully, the idea of losing my child on Halloween had never actually occurred to me until, of course, I actually lost one.

Oh yes, I wish I was joking but alas, just like most of my other posts, reality is worse then fiction.  Granted this wasn’t actually my fault.  It wasn’t a normal, I-just-wasn’t-paying-attention, kind of thing.  It was a full on, someone-walked-off-with-my-kid!  Before you freak out, we are still a family of five and it turned out to be a very scary misunderstanding…  Let me start from the beginning.  

Wha ha happen was…

So... I’m helping out with my church’s fall festival (God forbid we call it anything remotely like the pagan and terrifying holiday that it actually is.  People might think our church worships satan!) and I am standing in the bounce house room with all three of my kids jumping in three separate bounce houses. (of course)  

Don’t even get me started on how much I loath bounce houses.  They are dirty and stinky and no matter how much they clean them, my kids come out sticky and usually crying because so asswad kid who is way to big to be in the toddler bounce house, has connected a round house kick with my kids face…. but I digress.

I’m watching my kids in these separate bounce areas like a lifeguard at the public pool.  Breaking up the room into sections, scanning each section for a white spiderman, a latino jasmine and and a black tinker bell.  For the most part I spent 30 minutes just counting to three over and over again.

my black TinkerBell

Thoughts going through my head while scanning crowd:

Me:  One… Two… Three/ One… two… three/ One, two…. Three/ One……. Two, Three/ One…… Two…….. Three/  One, two, three/  One, two…..

One…. two………. / One, Two……………………………………Oh crap.

Of course, I lost the black tinker bell!!

What the hell!?  She was just in there, like 3 seconds ago?  How long does it take to count to 3 anyway?  Three seconds, right?

So now I am walking quickly to her bounce house just to double check.  I’m sure she’s still in there on the floor or something.  I scan the whole thing twice and realize she’s really not in there.  I scan the crowd around the bounce house.  When the hell did all these people get here?  And why is the music so loud?!  I can’t even call for her!

I catch my spiderman as he is flying by me.  I need to hold on to the kids I still have and find the one that’s missing.

Me: Put on your shoes, we have to find your sister.

Spiderman: (points to the Latino Jasmine) She’s right there.  

Me:  I am aware, I’m holding her hand.  I’m talking about your other sister.  The one that’s not here!

Spiderman: But I don’t want to go!!!!!!!!

So now I’m stomping through the crowd with a screaming toddler and a pouty kindergartener that are all around pissed that I made them leave their precious bounce house.  Oh, I’m so sorry to make you leave your jumping fun in order to find your baby sister who at this moment is being stolen from church in order to be sold to the highest bidder, but by all means.  Please, keep bouncing. (Yet another reason I hate those stupid things.)

Now a few seconds, have turned into a few minutes and I’m hitting the 7minute mark.  I’m on the verge of panic because for as much as I joke about it, it became painfully clear to me that my youngest child looks… nothing… like… me.

Anyone can just pick her up and walkout and no one would think anything of it.  In fact, as her mother, I am probably the most likely person to be stopped to be verified if that child was actually mine.  Now…. I’m panicking.

Then I see her.  She’s being carried out this bounce area by a women.  I get all "mommy-bear" on this lady and I rush over to her, pulling my daughter out of her arms.  Fortunately, this story has a happy and not nearly a scary ending as it could have.   The women holding her was one of the church leader/workers that was manning the Bounce area and when she saw a little black baby tinker bell crying by the bounce house she assumed she was lost.  So she thought to take her to security in order to find her parents.  

Even thought her mom was standing not more then 5 feet from the spot she was standing in…. In fact, even when I grabbed my little black tinker bell out of her arms the women was going to grab her back until I explained who I was.  

It is a beautiful thing to have a multi cultural family!  But in a situation like this you just want all your kids to look the same.

Antenella

Part of the Elite

Recently I was directed to a mommy blog entry that made me so unnatural mad that I almost didn’t read it.   It was entitled: “Dear Stay-at-Home-Mom, please, Shut UP!”  Which you can read (here), and the whole article was about how sick and tired this author was with SAHM’s and their constant complaining about their children and husbands and all around life as a mother.   

You can imagine what my reaction was:  “Ugh! What a Witch!  (With a capitol B) How dare she so blatantly write a blog about my life as a mother without even consulting me!  (rude)  and I had just read the title.  I knew this blog was about me.  I know that I am that SAHM that basically lives and breaths for the opportunity to complain about my children to any random stranger that is willing to entertain my whims.  Heeellooooo!  You do read this blog, right?  So yeah, complaining about my kids is one of my greatest joys about being a mom.  With that being said, I was highly offended that the author didn’t agree with my sentiment.

And I almost didn’t read it.

Almost.

I wasn’t going to, (mostly because the repost of the blog had a self-important introduction attached to it) but if someone is going to be so arrogant as to write about you without ever actually talking to you then you know this drama is gonna be good! **

So I read it.  And I realized…

She was right.

In fact, I didn’t even realize how right she was until the very next day my husband and I made the trip down to my oldest daughters Public school to be witness to a ceremonial Breakfast for all the “Scientists of the Month”.  A title reserved for only the brightest, most passionate and the children of the best looking parents that this school had to offer.  But mostly I think they just pick a student randomly.  Either way, there is an award ceremony and a pancake breakfast and it is fun and achievement had by all!

All, except, for the little boy who sat next to me as I watched my daughter receive her award.  He happened to be in my daughters class and was also being recognized for his massive intellect, but there was no parent there to celebrate with him and after watching all these parents fawn all over their children, he couldn’t hold it in anymore and he began to sob.

I didn’t even realize until a teacher had sat next to him and putting her arm around him asked if he was going to be okay.  This little boy whimpered while nodding and when the teacher asked if it was because his parents couldn’t be there, he choked back another sob.  

I had never thought about it before… But both his parents work.  That mom gets to leave the house everyday and deal with adult issues and maybe gets to talk to other adults.  She probably gets to have a bathroom break without a child sitting in the stall with her asking her for water.  She probably even got to eat her Lunch hot and in a calm and orderly fashion.  Maybe she even got to read a book while on her break… This little boys parents are both teachers.  They make a living.  They get to have a breather from their stay-at-home lives by going out into the real world.  They make the brave choice to leave their child everyday in order to educate mine.

And I never… realized how completely… and utterly blessed I am as a stay-at-home-mom…

until that… 

very… 

moment…

My daughter was being recognized.  She had achieved something that she had always wanted.  She was so excited to tell me and she counted down the days until her breakfast and she told me about it every opportunity she got… I mean like every single one.  All I heard about for days was this “Scientist of the Month Breakfast”  and when she finally accepted her award from her principles she practically glowed.  

And I got to be there for that.

Now, it is very important that you realize that I am not knocking working parents.  Because I commend those that are both full time employee’s and full time parents.  What they do is selfless and always for their children and their families.

But I get to be there… for everything.  For every baby step.  For every milestone.  For every “Scientist of the Month Breakfast”  And as much as I complain and as many days there are where I spend half of it screaming and half of it crying it still beats anything else that I could be doing.  Because even with my bitching and complaining, I would never want to do anything else.  I would never want to be anywhere else.

So thank you Blogger for being painfully honest about how selfish we can be.  You are absolutely right.  I just needed to realize how blessed I really am and how I would never trade any of it for the world.

…

Although, Its probably not going to stop me from complaining.

Antenella

**I don’t for any reason actually think that this blogger is writing about me specifically.  I have never met this women and I doubt she even knows I exist.  So when I say she is writing about me, I mean more in a figurative way as opposed to the literal way.  So please don’t sent her nasty letters in order to defend my good name.  Because everyone knows that I have no such thing.**

Things I am not...

You might be someone who had no idea what becoming a parent would actually entail.  You might be someone who thought that you actually did know what it would entail.  (Either way... you are wrong.)

You, like me, probably thought you would do extraordinary things that involved cultural learning to an adorable and highly intelligent toddler who would "Ooh" and "Ahh" at all your developed knowledge of the temples in Rome during the era of Caesar.  You and your precocious 3 to 4 year old, who would always listened and nodded with affirmation when you explained the in's and out's of modern politics, would spend endless amounts of time exploring the world around you with the use of paint and artistic expression; while always dressed in the cutest of Gymboree clothing.  Faces never dirty... never tear streaked, for the love of philosophy and the thirst for knowledge would always guide your little ones heart!

And then you actually had a child....
And then you actually tried to teach them something...
And then you actually wondered if you ever even existed....
Like... ever...

Because no one FREAKING listens to you!!!!!

Being a parent is probably the most degrading job I have ever had... I seriously think that I could probably drop off the face of the earth, get hooked on drugs and then start stripping for a living and I would still feel less taken advantage of at the end of the day.

Do any other professions deal with the concerns of their boss following them into the bathroom to figure out what exactly they are doing with company time?

Or does any other professional have to be crossed examined by their boss for every...single...little...decision that is made, including the idea of apple or goldfish with lunch?  Folding laundry or cleaning a bathroom?  Watering the plants or cleaning the pool?

If anyone else's boss asked them the same question more then 50,000x in a matter of 4 minutes, you probably wouldn't be working there anymore.  In fact, someone would probably wonder about your bosses mental capacity.

But no!!!  Instead, my boss's who are degrading, neurotic, self-absorbed, pycho-paths!!!  are causing me to actually question MY sanity when everyone knows that any adult acting this way would be off their rocker!!!

With that being said I have discovered a few things that I am not.  And like I did with my children,  I would like to share with you some of those things:

Things I am not:

I am not a short order cook.
I am not a maid.
I am not a timer.
I am not a magician that can magic things into thin air.
I am not your slave.

you are not your freaking khakis

I am not your party planner.
I am not your servant that just stands in the corner until I am summoned.
I am not your judge.
I am not your jury.
I am not your punching bag.
I am not your dumping ground for unwanted responsibilities.
I am not the cleaning lady.
I am not the remote control.
I am not the chauffeur.
I am not the seamstress.
I am not to be ignored.
I am not be disrespected.
I am not be treated as a subhuman.
I am not your classmate.
I am not your friend.
I AM YOUR MOTHER!
....and I will be treated as such.

So, if you wanted to have any of the above objects, then you can grow up, get a job, make lots of money and buy these things for yourself after you pay for the therapy I caused you by not being any of these things when you were five.
#sorrynotsorry

 Antenella

Ode to my Budget

My husband and I have finally decided to cut back on our spending and start trying to put a little bit in savings.  The following letter is addressed to the two weeks worth of our new "budget".  I say

"Budget" pretty loosely since that's basically just a code word for "Don't spend any money until we get payed again."  It has been a journey of testing and resolve.  But on the upside,  I look damn skinny:)

Ode to my Budget:

How I loath you with the passion of a million fiery suns exploding in a brilliant display of blazing fervor...

Oh budget, why must you curse me so?
  
How I wish I could embrace you with a longing deepest to my heart.  How I wish we could be a happy union like that of the blissful bride on the dance floor of her wedding.  

But alas, it shall not be.

Oh, Why O budget of intense minimalist, must you be as strapping as a straight jacket?  The Grocery store has a BOGO on Bacon but I reach back my hand to review my calculator with the utmost of despair.  BOGO must wait till friday...

A mantra that you have forced me to call my own, O budget of paralysis!

Hark!  A coupon for Kohls has brightened my doorstep!  Oh happy day this day of magic and wonder!  But the fates are cruel and the expiration draws near... too near.  Friday can not over take it and I am doomed to lose the $10 kohl bucks I would have rejoiced in spending.

Why must you make a mockery of me O cruel financial planning?

Why must you mock me with your window sales of two for one yankee candles in all the delectable flavors of autumn?  What does the smell of "Balsam and Cedar" or the simplicity of "Harvest" smell like?  I shan't know,  for the envelope for "Home Decor" was nothing but a laugh an after thought, complete with the promise of a "Home" envelope in future months.

Why must the wheel of my mind churn like the grinding wheel of a 1940's flour mill when I lay my eyes on my barren refrigerator?  I close the door in shame and empty longing only to reach for the handle again for the 10,684th time.  I peer into the empty bleakness again with a renewed sense of insane glee that maybe a morsel of nourishment will present itself as a sacrifice to the tiny gods that litter my floorboards.

The tiny gods demand Dunkin Donuts!!   They scream out to their maker of McDonalds!  They what nothing but to suckle on the tit of the frozen yogurt down the street?  When the tiny gods do not get their sacrifices they become angry gods, bend on making the life of their servants nothing more then day in and day out misery!

This poor man that my kids are attacking
isn't actually related to us.  But this is what will
happen if you are cursed with their wrath!!!

Oh Curse you!  Dave Ramsey and all your financial prowess! 

Why must your words of wisdom incise me so, to the point of pain and suffering?  Why must I want to be more then a victim of this life that I have created for myself?!  Why can't I just blame my parents like everybody else and then continue my life of decadency in the complete ignorance of my financial portfolio?  Why must I long to be better then I am?

Is there a way to see outside the suffering?  Will there we rejoicing at the end of this never ending uphill marathon from hell?

Will I be able to make it to the other side with nothing but joy and hope renewed?

Will the tiny gods be happy with the home made donuts instead?  

Only time will tell....
and you...

O Budget

Fin 

Antenella

Tales from the ER

My youngest had come down stairs after being in time out and when she entered the room I asked her if she knew why I had to send her to her room.  She pitifully answered with "because I wanted to play in my room?"  and I corrected her with "No, you were in time out because you stabbed your brother in the throat with a pencil."

As these words were leaving my mouth, I suddenly had an out of body experience and I heard these words not as myself saying them but as someone else over hearing them.

...WTF.

Seriously?  "because you stabbed your brother in the throat with a pencil?"  and I'm not talking like he happened to be too close to him with a pencil and she nicked the side of his neck,  oh no!  That would almost be understandable.  Kids are dumb when it comes to judgment of distance and pain tolerance.  Oh no, my precious baby angle, decided to open her bothers mouth and jab a pencil down his throat.  Like... in his mouth... like in his throat...

...

She could have killed him!  Oh em gee.  I'm still reeling.  Does anyone else have this problem?  The problem of the insurmountable responsibility of trying to raise your children without them dying at their own hands... let alone mine?

And I was standing right there!  I mean I was right there!  It wasn't like I was in my bedroom with the door locked and earplugs in with my eyes closed.  This literally happened at my feet!  How am I supposed to protect them if they're constantly coming up with new and creative ways to kill themselves?

I just...
I can't...
I....

I bet they haven't heard this one!...

UGH!  What am I supposed to do?  I can't exactly childproof them from themselves.  Or maybe I can.   Tying them to a chair would be a whole lot cheaper then a babysit and as personal experience has shown that it might also be safer...

Don't judge me...

Antenella


*Update!  It turns out that the twins were playing dentist, and they couldn't find the child safety tool that the dentist had given them so apparently the best substitute for the safety mirror was a sharpened pencil.  At least I discovered that my children are just stupid as opposed to being psychotic killers.

This...

Not this... 

Aunt Viv

Do you ever just get the feeling that no matter what you do there is always that one person that is staring down their nose at you?

Honestly, I haven't had this feeling in a long time... Not since I added my third, now that I think about it.  This probably stems from the fact that since adding my third, I haven't had a chance to look at my reflection in a mirror let alone notice the curled lips of those staring down on me in judgement.

Well, both a glorious and horrific thing has come to pass with the new venture of my oldest going to public school and starting her first year of kindergarten!  The Bus Stop! ...  Not only has taking the bus been a huge breakthrough for her maturity and her growth but it has also brought a profound easiness to our family's lifestyle.  Since my precious baby angel is now in "real" school, I can put her happy butt on the school bus and wave to her from the sidewalk as some else is burdened with the safety, education and protection of my child for 6 glorious hours.

Terrifying, I know!

Anywho, with the passing of the torch comes a whole new slew of complications.

Now that I have so much extra time, (LOL) I have been able to come up for a breath... unfortunately that breath has been caught in my throat by the shock of iciness I have seem to have direct towards myself.

I am grateful to say that it is not from the large masses of mom's standing at the bus stop with me.  Praise the Lord, most of them show up just as disheveled as I do.  We nod at each other in the wee hours of the morning commiseration about our exhaustion of getting up early after going to bed late because one of our children had to have something done for the next day.

I've decided, I like school! I think I have finally found the other moms that are just as worn out as I am and for the first time I feel like I belong just because I showed up in my pajamas.

Alas, this sentiment is not held by all.  Especially not...

Vivian Banks...

I'm pretty sure that's not her name and she's probably not even close to being as cool as Vivian Banks but she is excellent at looking down her nose at me with a very open expression of disgust.

Ah yes, there is always one that doesn't approve.

And Vivian Banks does not approve... not even in the slightest.

It probably doesn't help that I'm in my pajamas... that are the same ones I was wearing yesterday...
And that my kids are still in their pajamas.  (But at least those are different then yesterdays...)

And that for the better part of the 20 minutes I stand at the bus stop, I'm yelling at my twins to stay out of the street while simultaneously trying to nod at my neighbors child who has decided to strike up a conversation with me as I was trying to talk to an actual adult...

Then the bus for my daughter comes and it parks its self nearly 50 yards away from where we are standing.  Every... single... day....

So now I have to run to the bus with my daughter while the twins are chasing after us screaming and crying while trying to send my oldest off with a glorious goodbye.  Meanwhile my youngest, (who looks nothing like me) has taken it upon herself to run in the opposite direction toward the other bus stop where Vivian Banks is waiting to make her judgments of me.

I kiss my oldest, put her on the bus, wave until the bus disappears down the street then frantically make my way to the second bus stop with my son and my neighbors kid, to where my 3 year old has decided to park herself and cry dramatically.

Did I mention my youngest looks like this:

Now picture the top scenario with not only her in her pajamas but her hair still wrapped up for bed...

Vivian Banks does not approve.

Not to mention that today when I decided I wasn't going to subject myself to her condescending tone of "Hellloh" by greeting her, the traffic cop asks me to keep a closer eye on my children because, and I quote: "You may not have noticed, but this is a very busy street, and I had no idea who she belonged too."

I could positively feel Vivian's eye rolling stabbing through the back of her head...

Ugh!

People suck sometimes.

I did notice that she was waiting with only one child at the bus stop...  Who happened to be a girl.

I pray nothing but grandsons for her future....

Antenella

Dear College Self

Just recently I was visited by a very dear friend of mine who I had not seen in a very long time.  It had been so long that I had seen my beautiful friend that when I started to think back to that time I realize it was 10 years ago!

Its been 10 years since I was in college... am I officially old?... Don't answer that!

Anyway, before she came I started to panic!  She hasn't seen me since college!  I'm nothing like how I was in college!  I'm not easy going, or carefree, or capable of taking about anything that isn't outside of the realm of Disney.  Plus,  I discover... I'm not a good person inside!  What if I can't hide it as well as I used too like when I was in college? 

This is going to suck!!  She's going to hate me!

And then she came and it was magical.  We picked up like nothing had changed, She loved my kids and my kids loved her.  I didn't get frustrated because I was trying to balance my attention with her and my kids.  It was perfect!  In fact, it was one of the most relaxing weekends I have had in a long time, besides the fact that we stayed up till 4 in the morning almost every night.

Having her come and visit made me realize something about myself that I never would have noticed otherwise...

I'm actually getting better with age!

It wasn't like she said these words to me or even made any indication to feeling this way but I realized that I have changed a lot since college and all this time I thought it was for the worse.  It turns out it's quite the opposite.

In response, I would like to write a letter to my college self. 

Dear College Self,

The world is not nearly as black and white as you have been taught it is.  In fact, there is rarely ever any black or white but just copious amounts of gray.  Every absolute that has entered your head is almost always not and to think that it is, is doing yourself a great disservice.

You may feel that your ability to "love on people" is overwhelming your obvious judgment of them, alas, this is not the case.  In fact, maybe, just maybe, you should stop talking long enough to allow someone else's thoughts to enter your frame of reference.  Life is very lonely when you think you know everything.  It's very hard to travel if you think you've already arrived.

There is no good way of telling you these things because as I am writing them you are distraught with the complete sense that someone has misjudged you and that these are not the things you ever considered yourself to be.

But how many assholes actually know they're assholes?

You are not completely lost.  A lot of what I'm telling you can only be fixed with time and experience, I know your heart is in the right place but that doesn't mean your mouth is.  Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing and sometimes the best way to love is with indulgence.  To accept people without having to change them or show them the error of their ways (Even if it is in "love").

Some times the best way to show your faith has nothing to do with your words and it most definitely has nothing to do with your quiet judgment.  Sometimes it means getting in deep with someone.  Experiencing their lives they way they are living them.

Maybe your ability to walk by faith has something to do with walking a mile in someone else's shoes.

You don't know what people are dealing with.  You don't know the demons they are fighting and even if they tell you, you can't experience it the same way they do because the only experiences you've ever had is your own.

So, Instead of loving God and people with your preconceived notion of what is right or wrong, maybe you should start with knowing the basics.

You.  Don't.  Know.  Anything.

There.  Now you can be a true vessel of God's love.  Now you are empty.  You can now begin to be filled up.  

-John 3:30

Your loving Sister in Christ,

Antenella

Mommy Fail #657

This story isn't even mine but it is completely and unequivocally true.  It was passed on by my sister closest to me in age and I feel that the tale rings with the echo of authenticity.  I shall now venture to relay to you what was so candidly repeated to me.

One blissful day some time in summer, it must have been around the seventh month for the World Cup had commenced and the competition was still in its infancy.  On a warm but overcast afternoon I found myself in a very precarious situation.  The game was on, the beer was cold and I had a very trusted person to watch all of my rambunctious children.

As it was, it didn't take a lot of encouragement to forget my woes in not only the bottom of my beer bottle but also at the height of spectating the great game of futball.  (that's soccer for all you Americans)

It was only in the finally moments of the match did I realize how I had failed as a mother to my children and I didn't even have the privilege to be witness to the depravity of my young miniatures.

My sister, having spent only a mere hour or so with my children then process to tell me this story of great shame.

What had happened was...

My sister decides that since her boyfriend and I were watching the game that she would take the three kids to the park not even half a block away.  Sure enough, the kids are ecstatic at the opportunity to play in a park they haven't already gotten sick of.  So together they walked to the local park on the corner of the strip.

As she walks with them, she tries to ramp them up and tells them all about the awesomeness that is this new park.  "It's got a rocking horse and swings and this climbing tower that's at least two stories high!"

All my kids are euphoric by the time the get to the corner.  Their eyes are alight, their mouths practically panting in anticipation, my oldest was jumping up and down...

My Sis: "Are you ready to go to the park?"
Kids: "Yes!!!"
My Sis: "Are you sure?"
Kids: "Yes!!!!!"
My Sis:  "Are you super sure?"
Kids: "YES!!!"
My Sis:  "Okay lets turn the corner... There it is!"

And as my two oldest stand with gapping mouths at the wonder that is this new glistening park, my youngest decides to show her enthusiasm by shout, at the top of her lungs...

"WHAT THE FUUUUUUU**!!!"

My sister just stares at her for a moment while my youngest just beams with excitement.

My Sis:  "What did you say?"
My youngest: "What the FUUUUU**!!!"
My Sis: "Hmm, yeah.  That's what I thought you said.  Yeah, we're not allowed to say that."
My youngest: "What the f**k?"
My Sis:  "Yeah, we're not supposed to say that... Even if we are excited.  Instead, we should just say Yay!"
My youngest: "YAYAYAYAYYAAYYAAAY!!"

and off she went to play.

...

See, you're not doing so bad.  After all, it's not your child that has gotten so used to the eff word that she now recognizes it as a term of euphoric expression.

Antenella

Five Years Old

I feel like I have been waiting for my kids to go to school from the moment I popped those suckers out at the hospital, and yet here I am... A new mom of a Kindergartener.  Oh Lordy!  The Feels people!! The feels!

Sunday night as I was lying in bed with my husband and the house was finally quiet and the hush and anticipation of the first day of school started to drift into light snoring, I finally broke into sobs.

Now, for anyone who knows me, you know that crying is a daily occurrence.  In fact, if I can't scratch  "Nervous break down" off my to-do list of the day, I just haven't be active.  But this was different.  I opened my mouth and out spilled all the "what if's" that could possibly happen to my little girl on her first day of school and I panicked.

What if the bus doesn't pick her up on time?
What if she can't get to her class?
What if the kids make fun of the way she talks?
What if she's too afraid to ask to go to the bathroom?
What if the teacher doesn't like her?
What if she doesn't like her teacher?
What if the kids gang up on her? Or exclude her? Or tease her?
What if she can't find her classroom?
What if she can't find her bus?
What if she gets on the wrong bus?
What if she gets on the right bus but at the wrong stop?
What if the bus driver makes her get off at some random stop in the middle of the ghetto all by herself because he has a schedule to keep and she's holding him up and he throws her off the bus?  How in the world am I supposed to find HER!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

...

I literally woke up in a cold sweat two nights before school started with this exact list playing through  my dream until the horror bolted me upright in my bed.....

As I was sobbing to my husband that Sunday night before school he reached over and squeezed my shoulder, giving me the most encouraging word a mother could ask for:

Hubby: Are you crying because you are worried for your little girl to go to school?
Me nodding like a five year old.  Tears streaming down my face.
Hubby:  Oh, Pumpkin!  I didn't know you had it in you!  Oh!  You really do care for our kids, don't you?

...

Ah yes, the consoling words of my wise husband are matched by none.

In all fairness, he did have a point.  I mean... I'm not exactly the over concerned parent.  I would even venture to say that to most, I would probably be borderline aloof when it comes to my kiddos.  Mostly because, I work very hard to not get anxious over the safety of my children.  I, daily, have to put my trust in something greater.  I alone can never protect these kids enough.  I have to trust my surroundings, I have to trust my child's judgment, I have to trust that the majority of people are just as concerned for my children as I am and mostly, I have to stop the cycle of anxious thinking in it's tracks before it can sow seeds of doubt and fear into my parenting.

Because once that happens... Whew!  I'll be second guessing everything I do and you know...

With that being said, I realized that the reason I was so distraught was because for the first time, the very first time, my child was going to have an entire day of decision making all on her own.  I won't be there to guide her at any step of the way.  She will go from 7:30am-2:40pm (at least that's when the bus is supposed to drop her off... that's a blog for another time) with out a single solitary word of advice, correction or encouragement.

I realized...

I can't protect her anymore.  At 5 years old she has to learn to be in control of herself.  Five seems so young.  But I remember being five.  I wasn't five in my head.  I was me, in my head.  Always the same voice and I thought I was big at five years old.

So, when I saw her smiling face beaming at me from the bus window as I came to pick her up at the bus stop I realized something...

She wasn't the newborn I brought home from the hospital in her head. She was her.  Same voice always and she thought she was big at five years old and it turns out...

She was.

#stillgoingstrong

Seriously, It's going to be Christmas again and my kids are going to be just as obsessed with the Frozen Phenomenon as there where when it first showed its diabolical face on the big screen.  But with it being summer in south Florida, having a few ice creating magical powers would be a bonus.

Hope you enjoy the newest rendition of my son and I doing our very first duet.  With many more to come....
Hopefully.

Frozen's Open Door Performed by my son and I

Mothers of One

It's the last week of school and my mother has allowed my youngest daughter to go with her to school all week!  This means that yesterday both my girls were in school and it was just me and my son home alone for some mommy/son time.  During this magical time of having a single child home with me you would think that my stress level would have been at a bare minimum.   Seriously!  How hard can it be with one?

.....

I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.  I take back every bad thing I ever thought when I heard a mother of one talk about how all consuming parenting is.  I'm sorry for all the eye rolling and knowing smirks I flashed in the direction of a mother of one about to lose her shmit in the middle of Publix.  I take back every judgmental and critical thought I have ever had, even if it was just for a split second that made parenting a single child any easier then parenting a brood.

I have three kids and after spending just the morning with my opinionated, demanding, emotionally psychotic three year old; you could not pay me enough to be a mother of one.  That shit is hard!!  I forgot.  I mean really, I forgot how all consuming it is.  There are no breaks, no distractions, no other noise even except for the constant stream of conscious thought spewing from the lips of my son like a foun't that over-floweth. 

As a mother of one, you become the soul entertainer, party planner, caterer and playmate of your child.  There is nothing to distract them from following you to the bathroom, the kitchen, your bedroom.  Have you ever walked into another room and forgot what it was you came in for so you spin around quick to leave the way you came and you trip over a toddler because they apparently can't survive being more then a foot away from you at all.  Possible.  Moments.  Of TIME?

Welcome to the life of a mother of one.

Not only was the attention consistently on me but if for what ever reason my attention strayed even for a second my son would grab my face and look into my eyes asking "What did I say?  Are you listening?" in his best "mom" voice he could muster.  Of course, I was listening to the first 100 times you said that you liked "Mighty Machines" and I just assumed that the next 50 times were more for the collective consciousness and didn't actually warrant a response.  

...

I was wrong.  Every little thing that came out of his mouth was of dire importance that needed nothing but undivided attention... and I can almost understand this.  I mean, he is three, after all and the world is kind of a magical place right now and he honestly never gets any time by himself with me EVER!  So I tried to be as patient as possible ...

But when he would interrupt my responses to his questions in order to feed me the lines he wanted, as if he was the overbearing director of Hamlet, I started to feel like more of a sounding board as opposed to an equal in conversation.

Needless to say, I dropped the girls off at school at 9:00am and by 11:00am we magically found ourselves at the nearest playground just so I could get a mental break, even in the 98 degree florida summer heat!...

So here's to you momma's!  Here's to all of you that are struggling to keep their single child at bay while simultaneously trying to cling to your sanity.  Here's to playgrounds and splash parks and Pintrest projects.  Here's to playdates and movie nights and little gyms.  Here's to basically anything that even resembles entertainment for more then 15 minutes.  You ladies are soldiers!!    And I only have one bit of advice for clinging to sanity...

Have more children...

Antenella

What I learned by being "Less Then"

I have recently started doing some volunteer work at my church and a few things have come to my attention through this whole experience.  1) I'm shocked that anyone in this entire facility thought I would be something other then a liability to the good name of my church, 2) I forgot what it felt like to be a real person and 3)  I have actually learned a lot by being a stay-at-home mom.

Although I could do a whole blog entry on just observation number 1, I would like to focus more on the revelations of 2 and 3.  I forgot what it feels like to be a real person and even thought this statement sounds negative in its own right.  It makes me realize that without it, I could never truly understand what it means to be a "real person" in the first place.

My life consists of two things: Crying and not being good enough... for anyone.  I don't say this in the deprecating way that it might sound.  I say it more as a matter-of-fact.  It's not a good thing or a bad thing it, just is.  Most of the time I am not good enough.  Not that I am useless but that I just can't live up to the unrealistic expectations of the three people I associate myself with the most.  In order to make these people happy I would in fact, have to be God Himself.

Because....

It is impossible to fill a water bottle at the refrigerator and help someone wipe their butt in the bathroom.  It is also an impossibility to "magic" special toys out of thin air along with changing the music on pandora while simultaneously handing goldfish to the child in the very back seat of your mini van without involving a head on collision.  Some things are just not humanly possible no matter how much you want them to be.

So it's not that I feel less then adequate its more that I feel unreal all together.  I am more of a half person, half inanimate object that gets yelled at for just being.  I am less then a servant and more like a slave and I can't quit, I can't write to my union, I get even get compensated by a pay raise.  I just have to live day in and day out with being a "less then" person.

It's not bad, in fact, its pretty great most of the time.  No one actually expects quality work from you and you can totally be late and no body cares because they are just impressed you arrived at all!  This leads me to the 3rd revelation, that I have actually learned a lot by being a "less then" person otherwise known as a stay-at-home mom.

There are a few indisputable truths that have dominated a lot of my thoughts since transitioning into a professional environment.  Even though it is only a small amount of volunteer time I have already realized how much the working world would benefit from having a "Less then" person in there mists. In the wise words of Adele, we can "Lay your sh*t bare", if you will.

1) Stop whining:  You know what's more irritating then a toddler whining?  An adult whining.  Whether it's about not getting your copies done in time for your meeting or the office coffee not being hot enough, it's still annoying to listen too.  Unfortunately, office whining is a lot like retelling of your  night time dreams:  Nobody wants to hear it but you.

Are you complaining again?

2) No one likes a tattle-tail:  This is a hard one because in preschool it is strongly discouraged to tattle-tail but as an adult it is practically a right of passage.  All we want to do is commiserate how offended we are by one thoughtless action or another of a fellow coworker or friend or family member.  But the reality is, if you got a problem with someone, you gotta go talk to them about it; not everybody else!  Which is a beautiful little Segway into number 3...

3)  No one wants to deal with your crap:  Complaining is only acceptable if your going to make it funny.  (This is how I get away with this one)  Unless it's funny, it's just a great big downer.  My daughter is notorious for this.  "Life is so hard!  My mother is so unfair!  You don't even understand how ridiculous everyone is being because they won't let me go swimming in the pool when I just made a big stink about my ear infection and my mom just paid 50 bucks for medication to make it better.  Life is so unfair!!"  Yeah, that's kind of what we sound like as adults as well...

4) Take a nap:  Forget office living how about for life in general!  How much of our problems would be rectified if we just got enough sleep as opposed to barely getting any at all?

Not at your desk!  Go to your car like a normal person!

5)  Watch where you're going!:  It is embarrassing how often my kids walk into walls or doors or parked cars because they are just not looking where they are going.  That's a lot like what we do as adults.  We can get so wrapped up in numbers 1-4 that we forget that there is actually work that has to be done and a week goes by and nothing is accomplished and is just tacked onto the next work week. Next thing you know we are swimming in responsibility that should have been corrected a week ago!

and lastly...

6)  You are not the boss!  (Unless, you are then this doesn't apply to you so much)  I'm the mom so I'm the boss and some times I make decisions that are stupid and inefficient and frustrating and sometimes my kids try to point this out to me and sometimes I don't care, because I'm the boss and they have do what I say!  It's usually sooner then later that I realize for myself that my ideas were stupid and inefficient and frustrating.  But, do you want to be right, or sent to your room for a time out?  Sometimes we just have to swallow that pill and wait for the powers that be to figure it out, because that's their job... not mine.

I think I made a mistake..
How do I fix this without the pee-ons finding out.

I'm not even sure if this is making the connection that I am hoping it will but let me just end by saying that I have learned more about patience, time management, problem solving and professionalism in the past 5 years of being home with my kids then I ever could have learned in the work force and I think I am a better employ because of it.

I'm smiling because I have vodka!

Just as long as they don't find out about my drinking habit...


Antenella

Wisdom of Strangers

Today I was reminded of why I am so grateful that I am such an obnoxious talker.  If you've ever had any kind of a conversation with me (or sat in the next booth over from me while I was talking) you would know that it is one of my most favorite things to do.  I especially love to complain about my children.  Not because they are really terrible but because half of the stuff that they do, you just couldn't make up!

When I was younger I would be known to embellish my stories to make them more interesting.  It wasn't lying.  I just figure, why let the truth get in the way of a good story?  But now I feel like the boy who cried wolf because everyone just assumes I'm exaggerating!

Alas...

Now as a parent, I have been known to talk (and blog) about the shenanigans my children pull with just about anyone.  My mom, my friends, the poor women stuck in the check-out line next to me.  But today I was talking with one of the moms who son is in the same classroom as my son.

We were both watching from the doorway as her son started to lift a jar of lemonade off of the table in order to pour himself a glass.  Did I mention that this was a three year old class?  Both of us looked on at the impending doom, letting a sigh escape our lips.

"That's not going to end pretty," She says to me.
"At least he's in the classroom so, technically it won't be a mess that you'll have to clean up." I reply.
"Yeah," She sighed again. "I just feel bad, that they'll have to clean it up at all."
"You think that's bad, let me tell you what my daughter did yesterday."

I then proceeded to tell her about "the Incident of the 7th of March", where (long story short) my youngest daughter decided that she would rather urinate all over herself in the middle of Walgreens then follow my direction.  Yes, my daughter peed herself to spite me...

When I told this wonderful women, who also has an adopted child, about my plight I asked her, "Is that normal?  Do I have to put her back in therapy?  Is she going to be a psychotic serial killer when she gets older?"

Maybe she'd be a better mom?

 The beautiful, compassionate and super smart women looked at me like I had three heads and said,
"No!  Of course not!  That is totally normal!  She's three right?"

So she told me all the terrors of the three-year-old's and how they are way worse then two-years-old's and she will totally grow out of it and that it's just their nature.  She's totally fine and no, that is not weird at all.

"Really?"  I asked breathlessly as a ray of hope burst from my chest.  "I'm not totally, royally screwing her up?"

"Of course not!"

I can't tell you how much better I feel.  Its as if a weight has been lifted and I can stand tall once more.  When ever I have these battle of wills with my children I always seem to come out of them worst for wear and honestly, I don't know if my heart can take it anymore.

I second guess myself, I wonder if it's something that needs to be fixed with medication.  What if it's because she's adopted and its in her DNA and the horror stories of adopted children killing their parents in their sleep start washing over me and I wonder if maybe I can't just fix it with love and discipline after all!!!

She seems so normal...

But because I can't keep my mouth shut, I shared my fears, the Lord heard my cry and He sent me this spectacular women in white that was able to banish my fears and get back on the horse of parenting.

But what if I wasn't open about my struggles?  What if, because of my mortification, I just kept it all inside? (Like a normal person)  What if I just allowed my thoughts to consume me, thinking over and over again of the altercation that will be forever know as "the Incident of the 7th of May".

I can tell you exactly what would have happened!  My nerves would have wrecked me from the inside out and I would be weaker in the next battle of wills with my children and then maybe they would win the next one.

They mustn't win.  Ever.  I must break their spirits!  Molding them in to the well behaved, willing members of society that I know they can become!

All of this to say, don't be afraid to share you failings because maybe your very failing was another moms victory and she can tell you what the battle looks and feels like on the other side.  She will be able to paint a picture of normalcy and acceptance and triumph and maybe...

you can ride on her coat-tails until you have victories of your own.

Antenella

I Heart Disney World

YAY!!!  i hate you...

I know that I have done a few posts about the evils of Disney World but it just never gets old so here's another one!  Don't get me wrong, I love all things Disney.  When planning our trip I'm super excited and I can't wait to get going and I count down the days with the kids on the calendar and then the day finally arrives... and, Bam!  I get a wicked dose of reality and I remember that Disney World sucks now that I have kids to share it with.

Disney World is magical and beautiful and everything works properly and the "cast members" all treat you with respect and dignity even though everyone knows that you totally surrendered your dignity back in Tomorrow land when you pushed over a 7 year old to make sure your son got a pic with Buzz Lightyear.  ( It really is the most magical place on earth.)  but most of the time you are too hot and sweaty and tired and cranky to really enjoy any of it.

Where's my martini?!?!

The kids are crying for ice cream, they are way over excited and exhausted because of it and all you wanna do is go back to the hotel and drink until tomorrow.  But then you remember you have your kids with you and no one to watch them.  yay.

All complaining aside, this time was different.  This time was awesome!!  I don't know if it was because my kids were just better behaved then normal, (hahahahaha) or maybe it was because for the first time, we didn't have to be dragging a stroller, two back packs, a cooler full of breastmilk and a "plastic bag for wet things" along with three kids under the age of 5 around an amusement park.  Not very amusing...

I'm thinking it might have something to do with the latter.

So I am here to give you hope!  If you are ever able and willing to plan a trip to the most magical place on earth and it's terrible, it will get better.  There is a reason why children 2 and under are free.  It's because they will hate it!

It's hot, and loud, and way to visually over stimulating and every 20 minutes the music comes blaring over the speakers to announce one parade or show after the other.  It's just magically exhausting.

Not only did I not have to lug half our house with us this trip but my kids are now old enough that they don't get exhausted every 3 hours.  They go all.... day..!  Normally, this makes me want to slit my writs,  (calm down, it's just side to side so you know I'm just doing it for attention) But in Disney World, this is a must!  Do not bring your kids if they still nap.  Trust me, it will be torturous.

Allow me to give you a snapshot:

We finally made it!  Nap time!

By the time you get up, get them ready, have breakfast, pull your double stroller onto the magic disney bus that brings you right to the magic kingdom, get through security and actually scan your magic band to get into the park your precious-super-excited three year old that wanted nothing more then to go to Disney World, will be ready for a nap.  So just go ahead and park anywhere on main street for the next three hours since your child will be fast asleep in her stroller.

Next thing that made this trip more enjoyable was the fact that my kids don't have to eat every 30 minutes.  Thank the Lord my youngest had a "hoarding" issue that had to be rectified with therapy or we would never have learned our lesson.  My children, like most, ate like birds.  Literally, every 30 minutes I would be shoving goldfish into their tiny mouths just to keep them quite.

I know the idea is to get them to eat healthy snacks, like apples and carrot sticks every 20 minutes but lets be honest, i'm just feeding my kids as many packages of goldfish or cheese-its it takes to get through "It's a Small World".

But since my kids weren't perpetually hungry, I didn't have to stop every 15 minutes to get them a sandwich or a mickey Ice cream or a Turkey leg from Frontier Land.  Lets just say that this simple fact did not only saved my sanity but also my pocketbook.

Dumbo, much more our speed.

Also, my kids weren't scared of any of the rides!  That's a new one.  Usually someone complains about not wanting to go on a ride.  This in turns means that my husband and I have to split up while one watches the Debbie-Downer and the other gets to wait in line in the air conditioned "Pirates of the Caribbean".  Inevitably, someone feels like they got the shorter end of the stick and sometimes its both.

Family Vacations are awesome!!

Needless to say, Disney World is a completely different animal when your kids are just a little bit older!  Granted, I don't think its a coincidence that the very age that your children start to be awesome fun in the parks is also the same time you have to pay upward of $100 for their entry...

But if you're looking for the best time in the Disney Parks?
...
get a sitter and leave the kids at home!

Antenella

Gotcha Day!! She's not yours!

Just for clarification, this is me and my youngest daughter...

Yes, this white momma is braiding
her black babies hair.  Deal with it!

In order to celebrate my little Nubian Princess' 2nd Gotcha Day, I would like to take this opportunity to point out a few things that you will never have to deal with unless you have an adopted child.   An adopted child that looks nothing like you... or your husband... or the rest of your kids...

1.  People ask me if I babysit?
2.  Old people do a lot of open mouthed staring when I walk into a store.
3.  There is a lot of confusion among the people around me if she walks more then two feet in front of me.
4.  People have asked me where her mom is.
5.  People have asked me if I was going to be open with her about her adoption.  (I'm pretty sure she's going to figure it out)
6.  People have told me that she has my eyes...
7.  If my daughters hair is not "did" everyday, inevitably that one day will be the day that I get a dozen business cards from ladies that do "our-kind-of-hair"
8.  People ask if I feel like she's really mine... (I don't even know what to make of that one) I usually just tell people "Well, I should hope so!  I bought her!"
9.  I have seen my 5 year old tell many a child that it is I who is her sisters mother.
10.   People ask if she looks like her father...  Sometimes I say yes.  (What?  She could, I don't know...)

Not to mention all the normal questions that you will be answering every single time you are in an area that is shared by any person other then your family.  "When did you get her?  How does she fit in?  Do the other kids accept her?  Did you get her from Africa?  What are you going to do with her hair?  How much did she cost?"

It can start to feel like you are the butt of one bad racist joke after another but really people want to know.   I'm amazed at how foreign adoption still is to most people.  I don't mind that they ask questions.  Really!  I love to tell people our story.  (Mostly because I love to talk about myself and I do come into this story pretty often)  The only time it starts to become daunting is when people around me start to see my youngest daughter as a communal child.

I don't think people are consciously doing this.  In fact, it took me a long time to even identify this phenomenon myself!  But it is something that I have to deal with everyday of my parenting life.

People don't really see my youngest child for what she is.  MY CHILD.  She is not a toy, she is not an anomaly, she's not a pet.  She is a child.  My child and I don't appreciate people thinking that they know better then I do when it comes to her best interests.

Again, it's not like people are trying to be mean or tell me how to raise my kid but they unwillingly give into her and therefore can undo a lot of the parenting I have tried desperately to instill in her.  Basic things:

1.  Don't talk to strangers:  I have complete and random people pick up my kid all the time!  Mostly, it's because they think she's lost and she is asking them to pick her up, but still!  Would you pick up someone else's kid?  Ever?

2.  Don't take candy from strangers:  My youngest gets so much free stuff, its unbelievable!  I know she's adorable and all but there is a reason why I am not giving her any snacks until lunch time.  So you, nice lady in the park who thinks you are doing the friendly thing, please don't give my kid goldfish even if she asks for them.  I'm trying to teach her that creepers like you might be lacing that stuff with crack and I don't want her to die from stupidly taking food from strangers.

3.  Don't fake cry:  It's really hard to teach this one considering any time she makes a sad face she gets more attention then Brittany Spears getting out of her car without underwear.  I have literally watched her walk into the middle of a crowded room and start to "cry" and every single person there jumps to her aid.  Usually by a) picking her up or b) giving her food.

I get that she's cute and adorable and super light and soft and she smells like coconut but at the end of the day she's mine.  I have to take her home, I have to undo all the good intended spoiling the community has show her and I have to teach her how the world really works.

You can't cry to get your way, People aren't going to give you things just because your cute and you have to be a willing participant of society to reap the benefits of it.  But until every Tom, Dick and Harry stop acting like her grandmother, complete with candies in her pocket, I can't teach her anything!

So, if you want to raise a beautiful baby that looks nothing like you then leave mine alone and go buy your own Nubian Princess!

Like a normal person!

Antenella

Parenting Advice from Disney

If you are like me and you have children of any age living in your house, then the probability of you being exposed to the Disney phenomena known as "Frozen" is pretty inevitable.  This thing is cray cray!  I mean, I hear grown adults humming the songs to themselves while standing in line at Publix... without kids!  It has become what "The little Mermaid" was to all of us little girls growing up in the 90's.  For example:

"Look at this stuff,
Isn't it neat?"

Wish I could be...

You know you sang those two lines in your head... and now you are desperately trying to keep yourself from singing the song in its entirety at the top of your lungs.  (Paola, I give you full permission to do so.  Especially if you are within range of my husband.)

Either way, most people have seen, if not heard of frozen and because I'm the biggest dork in the world I get on pintrest and look up every single fan theory that could be circulating about the in's and out's of the characters and why they do the things that they do and so on and so forth.  (Don't judge.)

One of the revelations about the movie was that for the first time in a Disney movie, the characters had to deal with mental abuse from the hands of their parents.  It talked about how this was a huge step in bringing awareness to the plight of so many children dealing with the emotional scarring of abuse in their very homes.  And for a moment, I totally agreed.

 In fact when I saw the movie in the theater with all of my kids, I sat wide eyed and slack jawed at the obvious ignorance of these parents that spent their entire screen-time on shaming their eldest daughter for being who she was.  I was appalled.

Afterwards, I was shocked by how subtle the injury was to the child.  Most people I talked to didn't even notice the slight of hand from the storytellers.  Which I think makes the reality of abused children all that more damaging.  Especially for emotionally abused children.  It goes unnoticed.

Uh uh

Then I had the fortune to read a statement that was a defense of this concept of abuse in the movie.  That it wasn't in fact abuse, it was loving but desperate parents who were doing the best they could do with the information that they were given.

Great!  So what I'm learning is that not matter what I do, I will inevitably screw up my kids so royally  that they could have the potential to send in the second ice age.  (Fantastic, as if I wasn't already second guessing every action I take towards my children.)

But I have my own theories.  (So take that, pintrest freaks!)

I realize that the second opinion was much more likely.  That these parents were just out of their realm of knowledge and they were just operating under the orders of the specialists. (Trolls)  They did everything they could as parents and wanted nothing more then to protect their children.  Both of them!  And if it meant secluding one child from humanity, so be it. (Makes total sense)

This speaks to me as a parent because I have been there.

I have had situations where I am at my wits end and I am told by someone I trust, whether it be a doctor, a teacher or a friend; to do one thing or another for my child and to just stick to it.  Do not give in.  Stay strong.  Stay consistent.  Does any of this sound familiar to you?  Whether it was potty training or dealing with a biter, we've all been told the same thing.  Pick a form of discipline and stick to it.   Well, guess what.

We've been lied to!

Just like Elsa's parents, we believe that our child will learn the same way everyone else child learned and some times that's just not the case!

I have learned the hard way that parenting isn't broken up into "correct" and "downright wrong" categories.  In reality, the concept of "correct" parenting have changed so dramatically in so few years that the moral compass is permanently skewed if not completely destroyed.  (Remember the paddle in school?  Yeah, not so much anymore.)

So, who is the judge of what is the right form of teaching/disciple/raising our children?  Is it our doctor?  (Lets see how many people agree/disagree with vaccines).  Baby books?  I would have to say no, since most of the ones I've read make me wonder if the authors have ever even seen a child.  What about your parents?  ...Stop laughing...

The point I'm trying to make is that there is no "Right" way of parenting when it comes to our children!  Parenting is a constant changing game of chance.  Something what works one way for one child may not translate for the next one.  So what if your baby books say that "getting down on their level" is the only safe and efficient course of discipline", if it doesn't work, It doesn't matter.

We have to be willing to change our perspective, our actions our preconceived notions of what we think is the best and only way of parenting.  And damn what other people think!

Before I had children I had a list of things I would never do or say to them.  "That wouldn't fly in my house!" was a constant mantra of mine, until... that is, I actually had a child.  Now, most anything flies in my house.  Because if one thing doesn't work, I'm willing to try anything else!

But what does this have to do with our new favorite disney movie?

I believe that the actions of the parents were nothing less then abusing but I don't believe that the crimes of the parents were emotional abuse.  I believe it was self indulgence.  Their concern of looking like unfit parents is whats really to blame.  It was their unwillingness to look outside themselves in fear of what others would think that stopped them from truly helping their daughter.

Closing all the doors and windows, allowing only a limited amount of people in and out of their lives was their idea of protecting their children.  Keeping everything inside, hiding their true selves from the world.  Don't we do this as parents... sometimes?  Trying to look like we have it all together?

Whether they realized it or not, these loving and concerned parents were modeling the very thing that was keeping their eldest so fearful and therefore, dangerous.  They were pretending to be something they weren't.  Unwilling to change the status quo, all for the sake of their children.  But was it really what was best for them?
  
Anyone with eyes could see that neither one of their children were thriving.  They weren't even happy.  They were just existing and it was the parents unwillingness to show transparency that caused the emotional turmoil to their family.

The reason parenting is hard is because it is the ultimate death-to-self.  In order to do our job properly we have to empty all that we are and then be willing to fill back up with ideas and theories that are not our own.  Because if we don't, we will fail to grow, to learn and accept that the world may be different then we had originally imagined.

But most importantly, we have to learn to ignore the voice that says: "What will people think?"

We are the best parents that can raise our children.   Let us not let the influence of outside voices keep us from doing anything and everything for the sake of loving and protecting our children.

We can all glean a little parenting advice from the masterminds at Disney.  Maybe in order to keep our relationships with our own children from turning into a frozen wasteland, we should first learn to...

let it go.
(see what I did there?)


Antenella