Chicago Moms Blog

Congratulations Graduate?

I am officially the parent of a kindergarten graduate. At the graduation ceremony, several of the moms were there with Kleenex in hand, already breaking down in tears before the ceremony even started.

Wait. Back up. What?

Yep, the moms were in tears before the kindergarten graduation ceremony even started. And wait, I have a kindergarten graduate? Call, me Scrooge, but really... is this worthy of tears?  What are you going to do when they graduate from high school?  What will you do when they get married?  In my mind, I have a kid who finished just one of many years of schooling.

Parenting Deadline

As a writer, I justify my procrastination habit by claiming that I thrive under deadline pressure. But there is a pressing deadline looming large on my horizon that has me hyperventilating: my daughter is going off to college for the first time at the end of the summer. 

That's right, I have fewer than 12 weeks to cram in all the parenting that I haven't managed to do in the last 18 years. First step, making appointments to get her wisdom teeth out, see the pediatrician one last time, and four or five other doctor visits so she can avoid the campus health clinic for as long as possible. (Done.)

Next, we definitely need to work on laundry. I taught her twin brother how to do laundry when he made noises about not going to college, but she has benefitted from my laundry largess for far too long. Then we have to work on making plane, train and shuttle arrangements for trips to and from Massachusetts. We also need to cover how to pack a ridiculously large bedroom that she has never had to share so that it fits into a dorm room with at least one roommate. (Not done.)

Sure, we've repeatedly discussed boys, drinking, smoking, drugs, partying, safe sex, and safe internet practices (you did not just see me patting myself on the back). We've even talked about the relative dangers of getting involved with older men and the pitfalls of falling for your professors. But what about the more subtle lessons of protecting yourself from users, being generous without giving away your soul, being open to new relationships while keeping your heart reasonably safe from unscrupulous manipulators. (Not done.)

Top Five Things I Learned From My Not So Perfect Summer Vacation

Memorial Day weekend has truly kicked off summer for my family. In addition to going biking, hiking, and swimming, we also grilled, had picnics, played on the slip & slide, and felt the grass beneath our toes. Summer has finally arrived for this family.

And with summer comes summer vacation. As we begin planning for our summer vacation, I begin to remember my not so perfect summer vacation from 2009. My vision for my 2009 summer vacation was the same picture I have for this year's vacation - long lazy days with the kids, sunsets, and lots of relaxation.

But instead of lazy days and relaxation, my last year vacation had many obstacles and many opportunities to search for silver linings and lessons to be learned.

Reflecting on Friendships

 I was the first one amongst my close knit of girlfriends that got pregnant. Although they were excited for me, I was torn between feeling special and feeling left out all of the sudden. All I could talk about was my pregnancy. All I really wanted to talk about was how I felt, what I’m eating, my next test, ultrasound, etc. I felt a discord amongst our girlfriend bond. They looked bored, and I'm not fun anymore. Breastfeeding, diaper changes, were so far in sight and in mind for them. Now in hindsight, I can see why they were so bored.

As soon as I had the baby they were there to welcome my newborn. They came bearing gifts and well wishes. Truthfully, I just wanted them to be there and talk to me. I was an emotional wreck who questioned every decision I made. I didn’t feel that I was equipped to be a good mother. I felt sorry for my child and it felt wrong to tell my husband. It was certainly not something I would’ve shared with my own mother since I couldn’t swallow being judged.

Baby blues pounced on my tired body and mind. In my lowest of lows I decided to call one of my really good friends whom I haven’t spoke to in weeks since baby was born. She was giggling as she answered the phone and then there were sudden hushes. I realized that my girlfriends were out having dinner, and a tinge of jealousy, hurt, and then anger passed through me. Couldn’t they have called and invited me? I mean, I am still the same person aren’t I?

No more drugs!! Reclaiming my child from his addiction.

Two months ago I reclaimed my child, my baby boy. Well, not so much a baby anymore, but he'll always be my baby. Tyler is sixteen years old and for the last two years he was lost to us. He was addicted to drugs. Drugs we chose for him. Drugs we bought for him. Drugs we reminded him to take- every. day. Ty was addicted to Adderall and without even understanding why, we thought we might be losing him.

Tyler was always a distracted, busy kid. He was also extremely intelligent. He struggled in school, at home, at everything. Finishing a task was nearly impossible. I knew that one step was iffy, two steps completely unrealistic. In second grade he and I worked together to help him get his homework done; we tied him to his chair. Unfortunately, he would just bend off to the side and put his head on the floor with his tush still secured to the chair! Teachers suggested medication. Doctors recommended drugs. People who we'd vent to would suggest Ritalin. We resisted. It didn't seem right to pump our child with drugs, just so the teachers would be happy, so he could empty the dishwasher.

Miss Lori says bullying is even worse the second time around

“Why are people okay when you talk bad about yourself, but call you a braggart when you say something that you like about yourself? When you say good things about yourself to try and boost up your confidence, people break you down. They are more comfortable when you say ‘Oh, I’m so awful.’ Because then they are free to say, ‘No your not.’ Or in my case they just say nothing at all.” 

These aren’t my thoughts. These are the tearful thoughts of my nine year old daughter after yet another painful day of ostracization, bullying and torment, otherwise known as elementary school.

And Then the Ogre Ate the Gum Drop Fairy

I walked past the girls' room this evening and saw my three youngest kids perched on one of the bunk beds, totally engrossed in the story their oldest brother, Austin was telling.  He sat on the top bunk opposite them, weaving a tale that captivated and enthralled them because it was all about them.  Each of the three little siblings was a character in the story that Austin was making up as he went.  Brooklyn was a Gum Drop Fairy, Clayton was a giant monkey, and Lexi was an ogre.  The little ones gave Austin their rapt attention as they shouted instructions to him.  "Make the ogre eat the Gum Drop Fairy!"  Make the giant monkey fall off a cliff!"

I raised an eyebrow and looked askance at Austin who shrugged his shoulders and explained, "As long as they're being eaten, falling off a cliff, or bursting into flames, they think the story is hilarious."  Then he turned back to his younger siblings and continued to craft his tale.  I left them to their fun and walked away with a smile on my face.  This, I thought to myself, this is what I love about big families.

I Cheat at Candy Land

A few years ago, I overheard a conversation between my two small children.  My three-year-old daughter was telling my six-year-old son, “Mom said she’d play in just a minute,” she said excitedly to her brother, as she carefully opened the Candy Land box.

"Just a minute is a really long time," he warned her.  "Mom won't play for a long time.  That's what just a minute means," he said in an all-knowing big brother kind of way.

It might have been my imagination, but I think Harry Chapin's Cat's in the Cradle started playing in the background as a wave of guilt washed over me.  How often did I tell my kids just a minute in an effort to get them to leave me alone placate them (while hoping they'd forget what it was they were asking for to begin with)?

Holy Crap, They're Graduating

Dateline Evanston: Micro-preemie Twins Graduate from High School; Mom's Non-stop Weeping Earns World Record

Denial is the thumb in the dyke holding back the deluge of tears that I know is coming. So far, it's working pretty well.

The fact that it's May helps. May used to be a pleasant, benign month, the waiting room for summer. Now, it's a whirlwind of award ceremonies, school concerts, final projects, class picnics, paperwork and soccer games. If you could see my color-coded calendar, you'd weep right along with me.

This year, May bustle is my lifeboat down the River of Denial, and I'm grateful. Each morning, I focus on one square of the calendar, and take things one day, nay, one event at a time.

But the subconscious is an uncooperative entity, and I'm having a much harder time keeping things in perspective during my short, fitful hours of sleep. For example, last night my dream-state kept pelting me with the reality that the twins really are going to graduate in just a few weeks. And what did the devil on the shoulder of my subconscious whisper in my ear?

I Think I've Overbooked Him!

My mother asked about her grandson today. She tends to do this every day, a few times a day actually, almost ad nauseam. I am usually on auto-pilot and respond "Mom, he's fine".

Crazy daughter that I am, I automatically think my mom is accusing me of hanging my child upside down at night to paddle him, or worse, selling him into child-labor without telling anyone. 

Asking "How" always seems to scream "what have you done to him now".

I know he is her world. We both know that he is mine. So, today when she asked, I had to carefully consider because the poor kid has been rather "tired". "He's tired Mom, I think I've over booked him!"

Having actually said the words,  I now need to react and carefully consider what I've done to my child.

From infancy I have meticulously carved out for him a legacy of honor and fortitude. He has been enrolled in activities since he was 18 months. Swimming, mommy and me, second languages infused with music, tae-kwan-do ... basketball and the list goes on.