Back in 2004 I graduated from college. I was young and hopeful and free. I was employed decently and ready to take my place in the adult world. I had plans and aspirations for my life- travel, riches, suitors, elegant and extravagant parties and casual sexual encounters. I NEVER wanted to get married and I NEVER wanted kids. I didn't believe in love and I didn't believe that our selfish humanness would allow us to sacrifice for another person the way it was necessary for marriage to work for all parties. Then the Red Sox beat the Yankees.
So before we start, I'm talking about heterogeny in children... mixed genders. I hate how we all (myself included) get all offended by points prior to investigation.
The other day I realized I was SICK, absolutely sick of pink, purple & turquoise. And I realized that OMG all my girls play with 24/7 are gender-stratifying female icons of awesome mothering and domestication. (I do own all the Doc McStuffins stuff because my tomboy wants to be a doctor.)
So then I asked myself, am I guiding them into their choices? I mean... that is what good parents do these days, we question ourselves and our choices. So I thought about it and the answer is no. When I gave them the choice between AWESOME trucks and dinosaurs they chose a froo-froo frilly dolly with a unicorn or a baby included. WTF! So I thought because I am awesome, I let them pick their toys.
I am a tomboy still. Almost borderline masculine. So I have a strong aversion to dolls and teacups and would rather play with a ball or a racetrack, needless-to-say playtime is boring for me.
What did I do? Today I decided to choose for my kids. My sister has a mixed gender home so all of the kids are exposed to stereotypically gender specific toys and everyone plays with everything. They are "just toys" (especially when my sister steps on one). I however was inundated with estrogen promoting toys that have one side of the human spectrum. We all know that play is a way of socializing kids and allowing them to imagine themselves or others in roles. I think that it is really important that humans grow up seeing the bigger picture. Life is a spectrum of options, choices and lifestyles, and the world that my kids acquire will more apparently display this.
Today I bought 4 farm animals and 2 dinosaurs to supplement the other "boy toys" I have been sneaking into the toy box... much to one child's dismay (who broke out in tears that I did not purchase another Dora or Barbie doll). That same child then chose the dinosaurs to eat soup with them and their dolls during 30 minute imaginative play. So... I'm winning.
I highly challenge homes that are one gender to branch out. I'm not telling people what to buy, but I am saying that a few items from the "other side" encorage a broadened scope and fully developed person.
It's so hard for us to motivate 3 little people to get out the door on time. The crying, the running away, the talking... all leads to a 30 minute delay. On my most creative days we make up songs. Today was a creative day.
It's ratched, but I'm proud:
Our creativity has literally no limits...
My middle child thought it would be cool to run around with a pencil. Not safe. Not cool. Eyeball injuries are my biggest fear because you can't really replace an eyeball. Plus it's all squishy and gross to begin with. I'm getting squeamish just typing about it. Ugh.
So instead of yelling at her I sang this song:
Kids saying the darnedest things gets old... fast.
Me: Man, my stomach looks fat
(Since having 3 kids I've lost 40 pounds and 2 cup sizes. I'm almost near my athletic competing weight)
Oldest: You don't look fat mommy. (Endearingly and in an almost unbelievable tone)
Middle: I like how you look like that mommy.
Me: Aww... (Believing that I could feel the love in her words)
Middle: Yeh, b/c it means you won't have another baby b/c you're fat. I don't want you to have more kids.
Hmmm... Does this mean she knows that no one will want me or what???
I love Netflix. I love everything about it (almost). I love the streaming and the videos and the return policy on my terms. I love it! It helps me get shit done... only because, I put on shows for my kids. Yeh, you can judge me. I don't care. I have my kids watch Netflix so I can write a paper, do a presentation, prepare stuff for work... even if I have to cook dinner or use the bathroom, Netflix is sometimes there to hold me down. The kids are quiet, restricted to one area, not fighting and SAFE! What else is there?
If your kids are NOT destroying you in some way... they should be fired.
My youngest stuffed 2 rolls of toilet paper down in the bowl while I was in a Google+ Hangout group meeting. It was really awesome to return and see the devastation caused by her curious act.
i love them...
I'd just put the kids down to bed and I found this on the kitchen table. My youngest had it. The older two no longer care about it. For anyone that hasn't had the pleasure of watching the awesomely outrageous and psychedelic "Yo Gabba Gabba" TV show (popular around 2008)- this little guy is Brobee. Essentially a very furry, very short Airdancer.
Brobee has passed through two sets of toddler hands and has now landed into his final set. He made me stop for a second... He has no eyes. His color is mottled. His fur has rubbed completely down to a sheer, soft, scrubby thin layer. His unibrow is coming undone and his left arm needs repair. But they love him.
What is the purpose of a lovie? Brobee is serving his purpose. Comfort, security and companionship. Brobee was able to courageously bring 3 little girls through the woes that oppress toddlerhood. And when his time is over, I'll have to figure out what to do with him. I guess we can say that he is the "Velveteen Rabbit" of the Mortley household. I pray that the Nursery Fairy never comes to grant him the wish of "real life".
My children never fail to completely annihilate any inkling of inspiration that comes my way. In fact, it is so certain that when in my best moments of creativity, mental tenacity and productivity I start the countdown until a major WTF out of this world moment requires my attention- sadly with 80% accuracy.
This evening my attention was drawn to this yellow leaf on the floor. It's a little bigger than my palm and the patterns and colors are quite vibrant. I say to myself, "how beautiful". That's when I panicked. Moms don't get these out of body experiences. Sadly we don't deserve these moments when the world around us slows down and we can zero in on nirvana. So I knew some storm was coming.
It didn't take a second for my youngest to come rushing into my room chest and face caked in blood the other two yelling in an indecipherable language of warning behind her. Amidst the chaos what was my initial reaction? Gag reflex.
I hate people motor oil. The sight of the thick bright red stuff makes me immediately think part of you is dying. This was then followed by a tiny panicked feeling because I never have experienced a nose bleed. The other 23 chromosomes has, but not me.
Well my gangster jumped into action. I cleaned her up, got her water and sent them all back to bed for the 5th time only to realize my creative window had closed and I was no longer motivated to do anything.