Minecraft

Minecraft.  Minecraft.  Minecraft.  I'm just saying it a few times to see if I can "glamour" myself into falling into the hype.  Nope, didn't work.  I honestly do not understand the excitement and utter obsession over this game.  It's ridiculous.

It all started innocently enough--Connor's dad asked if he could get Connor this game (Minecraft) for use on his XBox (I guess his dad felt the need to actually ask my permission for once because said XBox lives at our house?  Gee, thanks).  By agreeing, I had unwittingly opened the door to a subversive, child personality-altering online game.  At this point, most of Connor's friends were into the game too, so it has to be okay, right?  But like us, these parents also had no clue how this game would ultimately consume every waking minute of consciousness for our children (and Halloween costumes.  And wardrobe choices.  And Christmas gift wish lists.  Oh, and in my particular case, use of my cell phone for approximately 3 hours every afternoon while they call their friend, put them on speaker and chat incessantly about the game).

It happened slowly, apparently innocently.  First, Minecraft on the XBox.  Then since the XBox is hooked up to our only TV in the house and there were times where we wanted to watch something but Connor wanted to use his screen time to play, Connor negotiated Minecraft on his laptop.  Problem solved, or so we thought.

NO.  Problem NOT solved.  Problem made MUCH worse.  Suddenly, Connor started waking up looking like a just-out-of-college software programmer who drinks Mt. Dew out of a Super Big Gulp while spending his nights slamming away on a keyboard in a cage at some high-tech company.  What I mean to say is, his eyes were red.  Dark under-eye circles (in my defense, not a first thing of worry, these things are unfortunately genetic).  Then, in addition to above changes, his eyes starting looking glassy all of the time.

Then the back-talking started.  Who was this kid?  He didn't want to talk to anyone after school, did his homework so he could go "play" in his room.  Stopped arguing about going to bed.  Look, I trusted him.  He did get busted a few times over the summer playing at night, but after making Dylan promise not to tell me (get real, Dylan is forced to tell me everything--duh, we're married), Connor promised he wouldn't do it anymore.

Fast forward 7 months.  Minecraft addiction still as strong as ever.  But, because Connor is trust-worthy (and yes, sometimes I need him occupied so I can do something around the house or make dinner), I kept allowing him to play.  Talking to other parents though, we all began to agree that this game had infiltrated our house, our lives, our children.  They were like Pod People.  As parents, we were over it.

Then last night happened.  Connor had a "man's night" with Dylan.  They ordered pizza, watched a movie, Dylan even let him stay up until 10pm.  This morning, when we woke up to make Matthew's bottle, I noticed Connor's eyes and the fact that he was basically vibrating (you know, when you're so tired you can't sit still without fear of falling asleep?).  I asked the question.  He gave me the answer.  He had been playing Minecraft ALL NIGHT--as in, 10pm-6:30am.  WTF?!?!?!?  I expected, at worse, that he would admit to playing since maybe 5am.  Never all night.

I appreciated his honesty, but I was so pissed off that I sent him straight back up to bed after making him remove EVERYSINGLEDEVICE in his bedroom (and the chargers).  After cooling down, Connor woke up.  We talked about how it would've been worse had he lied to us so we appreciated him being honest.  However, we explained how we felt taken advantage of--we'd trusted him.  Trust is a hard thing to earn and even more difficult to get back once lost.

So in the end, he's grounded.  No more Minecraft.  Yes, he's had a few dramatic hours today after learning of his punishment (he is my child after all, I would've been worried had he NOT given me a few dramatic comments and slumped shoulders).

I'm not sure how long the grounding will last, if Minecraft will ever be allowed to be played on ANY device in our house again, or if Connor will ever be able to keep his laptop in his bedroom again.  It's difficult to be letdown as a parent.  It's even harder though to figure out the appropriate punishment.  I am now beginning to understand why my parents would say, "This hurts us as much as it hurts you" or "I love you very much, but I don't like your actions".

I still love Connor with every ounce of my being.  I respect that he told the truth where it would've been easier to lie.  I hope that this is a one time offense and we don't have to do this again.  What I do know for sure though, is that everyone learned a lesson today, as parents and as a child.  As a parent, being shocked and disappointed hurts.  And punishing someone you love hurts even more.

What Happened To Minding Your Manners & Being Considerate?

And no, I'm not just talking about kids these days...adults too!  I came face to face with TWO women today that absolutely floored me with their attitude and rudeness.  I honestly was speechless (and ask my husband, this *rarely* happens).

I went to buy Connor a new pair of  black Converse with neon laces for his big talent show tonight (he's singing lead, yes LEAD! in his band).  I went to Nordstrom at Washington Square because it was right on the way to dropping Bee off with a friend for the afternoon.  When Bee and I got to the parking lot, we parked way out back because I know it takes us awhile to get in and out.  Plus, I'm OCD about my car and don't want anyone to scratch it or dent it.

We took our time in the store and even did a lap around the mall to get some coffee.  When we left, the parking lot had filled up and there were now cars parked on both side of me.  I parked our stroller behind my car and was opening the trunk to put the bag in when someone tapped me on the shoulder.  I jumped because it scared me half to death.  This woman said, "Excuse me--we're parked right next to you and it's obvious that you're going to take awhile getting your things (and with that word she gesticulated with her hand and pursed her lips like I was hauling anthrax around) into your car.  It's a bit cold out here and we really don't want to wait for you and your kid (not baby, KID) to get in".  Wow.  If I hadn't have been holding Bee at the time, I might have smacked the b*tch up.

So I stood there, wrapping the blanket a little tighter around Bee as they hopped in their car and backed out, throwing one last snotty glance at me standing by my back bumper with my stroller, baby and diaper bag.

After I got everything and Bee loaded up and hit the road, I was still in shock (so much in shock that I left my coffee on the top of my car--my precious caffeine people!  I was obviously traumatized!).  I don't think I've ever had someone be that blatantly rude to me.  We were raised to always help others, say "please" and "thank you", open the door for women, hold the door for the person behind you...etc.  My brother is always the first to help someone lift their suitcase into the overhead compartment and I always hold the door, even when I got older and had a baby (or now two!) with me.  We were always grateful, and if we happened to forget to be, we were definitely reminded.  I do not expect kids to be perfect, but I am proud to say that my nephews know "please" and "thank you" *very* well (my 4 year old nephew actually *thanked* me for a "wonderful meal, Aunt Amanda" when I visited) and while we do have to remind Connor to use his manners, he did hold the bus about a month ago for the neighborhood bully that was running to catch it (the one that picks on him the most).

I'm still disappointed in those women and I'm glad Connor wasn't with me to witness that (I truly hope that they were just having a bad day or something and it's not their normal behavior).  I guess my takeaway is this--if you are a parent, please teach and encourage your children to be nice and use their manners, people DO still appreciate it.  And if you are an adult without children, please be patient with those of us who do have children.  We try to move as quickly as possible and we definitely don't set out to make someone's day more difficult.

I Read The Funniest Thing Ever...

It was this list that a dad wrote basically trying to figure out what is going on in his child's head when the said child is having a "moment".  I don't know if it was because I'd had too much coffee or what, but I laughed my a** off.  Because I seriously have done the same mental checklist in my head--for BOTH of my kids!  Here are my top 10...

I think my 9 (almost 10) year old's list is the easiest to usually pick from:

1) My mom said I can't play Minecraft.
2) I don't want to do my homework, I want to play Minecraft.
3) I don't want to take a shower, I want to play Minecraft.
4) Why is my mom talking to me?  HELLO!  I am playing Minecraft.
5) My mouth tastes awful--oh yeah, I forgot to brush my teeth, I was playing Minecraft.
6) Wow, I feel crabby and tired (and my eyes are burning).  Must be because I ninja-played Minecraft at 2am last night (but good thing I wasn't caught).
7) I clogged the toilet again.  I HAD to hold it.  I was playing Minecraft.
8) I think I downloaded a "mod" in Minecraft that crashed my laptop.
9) Who does my mom think she is?  I NEED that charger to keep playing Minecraft--I mean, who is going to call her anyway?!?!?
10) My mom didn't wash my Minecraft t-shirt and says I can't wear my cardboard "creeper" Minecraft hat to school.

**I KNOW a few of my friends can relate to that above list**

Here is Bee's list:
1) After 7 months, this formula is really starting to get old.
2) I tried to poop but it didn't happen.
3) I know Mom thinks these little outfits are cute but the zipper folds up right under my chin and I have to smell leftover formula or food because of that zipper.
4) Speaking of cute outfits, I never get a say.  Ever.
5) I did poop and now Mom is in the bathroom and I can't get out of it.  The hangtime is killing me.
6) Why does Mom put clothes on me anyway?
7) I had to get out of the bath.  Mom still thinks she can distract me enough to like getting out of the water, getting lotioned up and shoved into those footie-jammie things.  Poor lady.
8) The lights aren't on.  Everyone should know by now that I like lights.
9) My waistband is too tight and my onesie is too short.
10)  Raffi has now sang twice on Pandora--no thumbs up!

That's about what I have...I'm sure their brilliant little minds come up with even better ideas.  I'd love to have a peek into what they think all day.  Or maybe not.  But I'm confident enough that my kids love me that I'm sure I get a few pats on the back and "I love my Mommy" thrown in there too!

Speaking of the funniest list I read today, here is the link--you should really check it out: http://jasongood.net/365/2012/12/46-reasons-why-my-three-year-old-might-be-freaking-out/

Let's Chat About Me

By now, everyone knows that I have two adorable boys that are the most well-behaved, perfect, and smartest children ever known to mankind.  They *never* fuss or cry, they eat everything (including all green vegetables!), they go to bed on time every night and I never have to remind my oldest to wash his feet in the shower AND brush his teeth--and my oldest never talks back and he does everything I ask him to do the first time, every time.  My baby's poops don't even smell!  And if they do, it's little a little blast of aromatherapy--lavender and lime blossoms.

RIGHT.  You all know better--I have kids.  Normal kids.  I just typed the above to see how it felt to be one of "those" moms that I run into all the time around here.  The ones that you can tell are lying through their teeth and when they smile, the smile doesn't quite reach their eyes.  And they're also probably jonesing for either more caffeine or wine, or food that doesn't involve a chicken nugget.  Or maybe all, and at the same time.  But, to each their own...

My kids aren't perfect and neither am I--many people I know can back me up on that one.  I try to be the best mom and wife out there and often get in my own way in the process.  I drink too much caffeine, not enough water, I do open up wine while I feed my baby dinner, AND I sometimes eat stale tortilla chips for lunch with a Diet Coke.  I let Bee watch Baby Einstein and I let Connor play Minecraft.  I'd love to say I cook dinner every night, but I don't.  As a matter of fact, we get takeout so often from the Mexican place up the street that we actually bought one of the guys there a baby gift.  No kidding.  Oh, and I also have a nanny come in usually at least once a week so I can get a few hours to myself to run errands (or get that above mentioned pedicure).

But, I love my kids, my friends, my husband.  I have a pretty remarkable life.  I'm getting better at balancing everything as Bee gets older.  I do my hair and makeup most days because it makes me feel good about ME (now, you're not getting me out of my daily sweatpants for awhile okay?).  I realized I need to go to bed earlier than my husband, which sucks, but it also makes me a nicer person the next day.

Even with all the responsibilities in my life, I still obsess over skincare (mainly eye creams because these bags need to be CHECKED people, they will NOT fit in the overhead compartment!), mascara, perfume, and getting my nails done (at least pedicures--I don't want Centaur boots--don't know that reference?  Check out Fox's "New Girl").  I like my house to smell nice and to have clean sheets that smell like lavender to slip into at night.  My car is always clean.

These might seem self-absorbed and some moms would give me a ration of sh*t for sure for doing these things instead of using everysingleminute to take care of my kids and husband.  But you know what?  I'm learning that I need to have these things.  They make me happy, and when I'm happy, life is much easier (for me and everyone else--especially the hubster).

Let's Talk About Friendships...

I've been thinking a lot lately about my friends.  Why?  Maybe because I'm so far from my family that my friends make up my "family".  Some I have known for a long time.  Some have kids too, some don't.  Some I've know for a decade (wow, that deserves some sort of fancy award for sure!), some I've only known for a few years.  Many I talk to daily, some I talk to weekly or maybe even monthly.  Or maybe I only "talk" to them over text message or Facebook.  Whatever the medium, they are all important to me for many different reasons.

Every woman who is a mom needs mom friends.  Seriously, they will keep you sane, tell you that you are not crazy and ARE doing the right thing parenting-wise (even if you're duct-taping your kid to the "naughty step"), they will let you cry and laugh at the same time, they will pour you endless cups of coffee and more glasses of wine, they will commiserate about breaking bad habits, dealing with terrible teachers, and most importantly, remind you that yes--children CAN survive on quesadillas, Go-Gurts and chocolate milk...basically, they have your "six" (or your back).  They will never care if you show up in sweatpants smelling like squash and spit-up while holding out your baby saying, "Take him.  I can't do it" while having a meltdown on their doorstep.  But they WILL take every chance that they can to remind you that you are beautiful, a great mom, a wonderful wife, etc.

Every woman also needs friends without kids.  Why?  Because when you hang out with them, you feel free.  You can talk about your kids, but guess what?  They're usually not with you.  However, the great thing is, is that *if* your kids are with you, these friends are not tired themselves from parenting and are a wonderful help and distraction to your kids.  I have some friends like this who will read, tickle and play peek-a-boo for hours--seriously.  These friends also remind you that you ARE someone special that is not defined only by just your children and significant other.  They are also interesting in ways that maybe you aren't--maybe their dating life is crazy, maybe their jobs are nuts, whatever it may be, it might be just different enough for you to live vicariously through them, if only for an afternoon.

I have a few friends that I talk to daily.  These precious women somehow still put up with me after crazy text messages, multiple breakdowns over the bumps in life and just generally my bat sh*t crazy high-maintenance ways.  And I love these women.  They see me at my best, they see me at my worst.  Without them I would be lost.  One of the greatest benefits of these friendships is that their kids often become best friends with my kids.  And there are some days in life where you just need two families getting together and letting go.

My friends who I don't see or talk to as often as I'd like are just as important to me--I think of them daily...and they also put up with my bat sh*t crazy ways and still love me too!  How fortunate am I?  I look forward to spending time with them because we have things in common that don't necessarily revolve around family.  We can vent, laugh and roll our eyes at what life throws our way.  We provide each other emotional support in different ways, but are equally important.  I love these women--they are strong, they are independent, they are amazing. I always enjoy every moment with them.

All of these friends make up my family here.  Without them, I'd be lost.  With them, I feel stronger, more complete, more "safe".  I am so lucky to have been touched by many different people in my life.  I am even more fortunate to call these people friends, my extended family.  To each of you out there, thank you.  You have impacted my life and made me a better woman because I have met you.

Accepting Something & Liking It Are Totally Different Things...

I have a feeling this entry will be more of a rant than anything.  I'm just in that kind of mood--like I've gotta get it out there.  It's been about a week now of majorly interrupted sleep, a clingy and teething baby, complete disappointment in myself that I can't somehow "fix" his problems (I'm a fixer by nature, you see...), and the fact that I miss my oldest son like nobody's business.

Connor goes to his dad's house on a (fairly) regular basis.  We've been apart since before Connor can remember, and have had this schedule for just as long, but it has never gotten any easier.  Connor is my best friend in the whole world.  He makes me laugh, he knows me so well that if he can sense I'm feeling tired/sick/etc will say something to perk me back up.  Basically, we've been peas in a pod since he was well, a pea in a pod.  I love him like a crazy person.  We've always done everything together.  And when he's gone, I miss him like a crazy person--I catch myself wondering what he's doing, if he's having fun, did he brush AND floss his teeth, etc., etc.  But most of all, I wonder if he's missing me too.

I also have to be honest about something--parenting little Bee right now sucks.  It sucks hard.  WARNING: here comes my ranting and complaining...I am tired.  So tired I probably shouldn't even get behind the wheel of a car at this point.  I am dreading nighttime.  My body and mind wants sleep so badly that it physically and emotionally hurts.  I know that you don't remember the hard times later (just like you supposedly don't remember how awful labor & delivery *really* is), but when you're in the trenches of an episode of tough parenting, it's awful for everyone involved.

And I'm weepy.  And bitchy.  I know it's because I'm tired and I miss Connor, and I know that it's not my normal attitude in life.  But I have no respect for those who pretend everything is just peachy all the time.  I'd rather be a true, crazy, passionate person than a fake Stepford wife (yes, I am talking to you lady at Connor's school who always has your hair and makeup done and wears matching Nike outfits with your husband--that's just plan weird, ok?  Seriously.  Who decided to do that?  If it was you, how did you get him to agree?  And if it was him...well...again, weird.  Creeps me out).

So yeah...I guess I'm stuck with accepting the fact that missing Connor sucks, parenting little Bee through this teething firestorm means physical and mental exhaustion, and that I'm quite likely to be a royal b*tch until one or the other lets up.  But like my favorite new quote goes, "Accepting something and liking it are totally different things".

I Have A Stage 5 Clinger Folks...

Or as some might call it, a teething baby.  And it's bad.  Really, really bad.  So terrible that it makes me believe that someone from a hidden camera reality show is going to show up at my door and go, "Surprise!  This was all a set-up just to see how much crying, fussing, hair pulling, face scratching, screaming and tears you can actually take!  Now here's your normally happy go-lucky baby back" (and maybe a million dollars for my time and lost sanity).

Here's the thing, and maybe you can label me as a sh*tty mom for saying this--I can't handle crying, fussy babies.  Yes, I know that babies do this and it's totally normal.  But my psyche can't handle the fact that no matter what I do I can't soothe my child.  THAT makes me feel like a terrible mom (that, and the fact that we've had Baby Einstein on repeat for two days now).

Trust me, we're trying everything.  Tylenol, all natural teething tablets, orajel (yes, I know that some argue it's dangerous but I bought the one without the benzocaine in it).  I've resorted to letting him chew on packages of wipes, under my watchful eye of course.  For some reason, the crackling seems to soothe him.  I've even stopped my attempts at moving him into his crib for naps (another post for that process) and letting him try and nap in his swing--we're currently at 50/50 for naps which makes everything that much worse--little Bee is in full meltdown mode by 4pm without his much needed naps.

But to not come off as a complete a**hole, a teething baby has made me happy about a few things.  Here they are in no particular order:

1) Wine (who am I kidding...this is #1, and 5pm comes earlier and earlier these days)
2) A wonderful nanny so I can drive off and pretend to go somewhere important
3) Friends who I can vent to and that reassure me that this will pass
4) Sophie the teething giraffe.  I don't know what it is about this thing, but he loves it.  Unfortunately, she might meet her death at his hands (and mouth).  No toy, even ones made in France, can sustain the terror he's inflicting on that poor thing.

So until this "passes", I've got a Stage 5 Clinger.  He doesn't really want to be put down.  He'll fight sitting with me of course, but the minute I put him down it's all over.  So we have our pattern.  He'll want to be put down, I put him down, he cries, I pick him up...over and over.

I love you Bee, I really do.  And it's a damn good thing you're really cute.