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Today you screamed for two hours because I wouldn't give you juice.
I try to be patient, I really do. I know deep in my heart that you don't hate me. That you aren't doing this out of spite. I understand that in toddlerland there is no such thing as moderation and the fact that you had already drank your juice quota for the day is irrelevant to you. I get that, in your head, the rules of possession state that apple juice in the fridge belongs to you and only you and that when you saw me pour a glass you saw that as stealing. Unfortunately after the first half an hour of screaming my nerves were shot and I was more short tempered than usual.
I cried.
Just a few tears of frustration. My body's natural release whenever I am stressed. I'm still puzzled by the fact that you continued screaming even after I broke down and finally gave you the juice. What's with that? I think at that point you had forgotten what it was you were crying about and were so worked up you were just crying for the sake of crying. Nice touch with the flopping onto the floor and kicking your feet by the way. Very dramatic. I might have been able to see the humor in it if you hadn't told me to f*** off when I picked you up. You remember? Right after you bit me?
I cried.
More tears of frustration. Some days it is so damn hard to not lose my temper. It takes every ounce of patience I possess to stop myself from yelling. It's not that it hurt when you bit me, certainly not as much as it hurt your sister when you bit her this morning, it's more that when I see you lashing out it makes me question my abilities as a parent. I should have been able to nip this whole biting thing in the bud a long time ago. I feel like I failed you. You can count to ten and sing "Twinkle Twinkle" in its entirety. How am I not able to get you to understand that biting hurts. As far as the language goes, well, you don't know what it means. You probably overheard me on the phone, dropping f-bombs while I chat to my friends. That my fault. I'm not punishing you for swearing. It's the biting. I couldn't just let it slide. That's why I put you in time out.
YOU cried.
I know you hate time outs. I wouldn't like them very much either. They weren't an option when I was growing up. I got a slap across the face when I misbehaved. Or a strap across the back of my legs. Neither was very effective but they sure gave me pause. Mostly I paused thinking about how much I hated my family. It never made me stop and think about what I had done wrong. Apparently I'm supposed to be biting you back. I don't quite get how this is supposed to discourage you from biting, especially since you model so many of your behaviors after me. This is why we do time outs. I gotta say though, the end result seems to be the same. Especially when you told me you hated me.
I cried again.
This time it was ugly crying. Body wracking sobs of pain. I don't know why. You don't even know what you were saying. You're two. What do you know about hate? Besides, of course, your hate for vegetables. I don't know where you picked that up from. TV? Do we need to be more careful of what we watch when you're around? When I am moaning about doing housework do I need to start spelling out my distaste for folding laundry? Especially when you grab a pile of your sisters neatly folded clothes and throw them over the railing.
I stopped crying.
I sat down with you on the couch. I got down to eye level with you and told you I was sad. You put your chubby arms around my neck and told me "Don't be sad Mummy". You went and grabbed your smelly blanket, the one you wont let me wash when you're awake. You climbed into my lap and put the blanket around us both. "Snuggle?" you asked tentatively, as if you were afraid of my answer. The smile that lights up your face when I say "Of course we can snuggle" is priceless. It is the look of a blind man seeing the sun for the very first time. We lay there on the couch, big spoon and little spoon, watching Dora the Explorer. I can smell the oatmeal and vanilla of your shampoo as I kiss the top of your head and breathe in deep. All is forgotten, all is right with the world. In ten perfect minutes we have erased hours of tension and frustration. In ten perfect minutes we reset the clock to zero. You reach your tiny hand out, grab my arm and pull it around you.
I cried.
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Showing posts with label Inspiration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inspiration. Show all posts
Friday, October 19, 2012
Friday, August 31, 2012
Facebook Bullying: The New Normal?
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***Warning! Some links contained in this post contain graphic images that will undoubtedly be considered offensive to anyone with an ounce of common decency. I refuse to show the actual pictures (except for one) because it turns my stomach to have to look at them.***
At what point did it become acceptable to plaster the Internet with memes about disabled children? Did I miss something here? I love a good meme as much as the next girl. They can be hilarious and for the most part harmless. They poke fun at public figures, slacktivist causes and other pop culture icons. I'm especially fond of the Gene Meme. You've all seen it. A picture of Gene Wilder looking on condescendingly while pretending interest in everything from Kony 2012 to Northface Jacket wearing suburbanites. Funny shit, it really is.
It stops being funny when the memes turn to ridiculing a 5 year old girls disability.
Adalia Rose is a child with a disease called Progeria. It is a genetic disorder that mimics the effects of aging, causing hair loss (alopecia), thickened skin (scleroderma) and often results in a failure to thrive. It causes her to have an almost alien like appearance: Large head, small features and she is also bald, cause you know, she didn't have enough going on. She might have small features but she has a huge heart.
She told her mother she wanted to be a star. Her mother, like the good woman she is, set about to do whatever she could to make her baby girls dream come true. She hit the Internet running and within a short period of time she was able to drum up a huge following of supporters for this spunky little girl. She has her own website, her own YouTube channel and over 4 million likes on Facebook. Not bad for someone who hasn't even been alive long enough to remember what life was like before Facebook.
It's what any one of us would have done right? You have a kid, you do whatever it takes to make them happy. Especially when that kid has the odds stacked so hard against her. Unfortunately, for every story of inspiration on the Internet, there is some bottom feeder looking for their fifteen minutes.
Enter Bree.
Bree (I will only use her first name as she is a minor) created a page called Adalia Rose Memes (link contains seriously offensive...everything. Definitely NSFW). She thought it might be a nice idea to take pictures of Adalia and post them with funny captions. Whats funnier than calling a five year old a whore? Calling her an alien? Really funny, at least I'm assuming she found them funny. Personally I thought they were pretty ignorant and hateful myself but hey, I'm no "comedian" as Bree refers to herself. I'm just a mom.
A mom with a lot of friends.
As most of you know I am a social media enthusiast, everyone knows it. I have been involved with the same core group of moms for three years. I haven't met any of them face to face but I have been there, in our groups/message boards/chat rooms, for the births of their children, through divorces and marriages and sadly through the loss of loved ones. We are tight. We fight with each other like sisters but when the chips are down we band together. It's a beautiful thing.
One of the mommas brought it to our attention that this Adalia Rose Memes page existed. Immediately we all went over and a few of us had words with the followers. No big deal. The problem was they weren't even a little bit abashed by the fact that they had been caught out doing this awful thing. They were PROUD of it. They truly believe that Adalia's mother is exploiting her so in protest they have created this page. That's their story and they're sticking to it. It's not OK to create a support page for your sick child but it is apparently perfectly acceptable to steal their pictures, slap vulgar captions on them and poke fun at their disability. The logic is astounding.
Wanna hear something even more astounding? I know you do.
Facebook, in it's wisdom, thinks it is perfectly acceptable too!
Sure, post a picture of your child breastfeeding and they drop the hammer faster than an auctioneer at Barrett Jackson but bullying a five year old? That's just good fun. These photos have been reported by all of our group members, on the basis that it violates Facebooks policies against hate speech. According to Zuckerberg's minions there is no hate speech. None of the photos have been removed and the page is still open for business. Never mind that this is being perpetrated against a disabled child, never mind that some of these memes are racist in nature. It's the Internet. Suck it up. Freedom of speech. Yay first amendment.
Freedom of speech? How about common decency?
A friend of the family broadcast an appeal to the haters on YouTube, to no avail. There were hate pages and ugly memes about Bree, which ironically were taken down faster than whores drawers. While we got a kick out of the poetic (karmic?) justice, slacktivism isn't really our style. Why flame someone on a website when you can go national? We are currently in talks with NBC, CBS and other news affiliates. They were repulsed by the fact that Facebook has let this go unchecked for as long as it has. We couldn't get through to the creator of the page or appeal to her nonexistent sense of decency so we are appealing to you faithful reader. One thing about us Internet moms, we don't take this kind of thing lying down. Don't let them get away with this, for Adalias sake. Protest this.
Sign this petition.
Report this page.
Contact your local news.
More importantly, teach your children that this is wrong. Where the hell are this girls parents? Do they think this is acceptable behavior?
Do you?
Pin It
At what point did it become acceptable to plaster the Internet with memes about disabled children? Did I miss something here? I love a good meme as much as the next girl. They can be hilarious and for the most part harmless. They poke fun at public figures, slacktivist causes and other pop culture icons. I'm especially fond of the Gene Meme. You've all seen it. A picture of Gene Wilder looking on condescendingly while pretending interest in everything from Kony 2012 to Northface Jacket wearing suburbanites. Funny shit, it really is.
It stops being funny when the memes turn to ridiculing a 5 year old girls disability.
 |
| IRONY! |
Adalia Rose is a child with a disease called Progeria. It is a genetic disorder that mimics the effects of aging, causing hair loss (alopecia), thickened skin (scleroderma) and often results in a failure to thrive. It causes her to have an almost alien like appearance: Large head, small features and she is also bald, cause you know, she didn't have enough going on. She might have small features but she has a huge heart.
She told her mother she wanted to be a star. Her mother, like the good woman she is, set about to do whatever she could to make her baby girls dream come true. She hit the Internet running and within a short period of time she was able to drum up a huge following of supporters for this spunky little girl. She has her own website, her own YouTube channel and over 4 million likes on Facebook. Not bad for someone who hasn't even been alive long enough to remember what life was like before Facebook.
 |
| Adalia Rose |
It's what any one of us would have done right? You have a kid, you do whatever it takes to make them happy. Especially when that kid has the odds stacked so hard against her. Unfortunately, for every story of inspiration on the Internet, there is some bottom feeder looking for their fifteen minutes.
Enter Bree.
Bree (I will only use her first name as she is a minor) created a page called Adalia Rose Memes (link contains seriously offensive...everything. Definitely NSFW). She thought it might be a nice idea to take pictures of Adalia and post them with funny captions. Whats funnier than calling a five year old a whore? Calling her an alien? Really funny, at least I'm assuming she found them funny. Personally I thought they were pretty ignorant and hateful myself but hey, I'm no "comedian" as Bree refers to herself. I'm just a mom.
A mom with a lot of friends.
As most of you know I am a social media enthusiast, everyone knows it. I have been involved with the same core group of moms for three years. I haven't met any of them face to face but I have been there, in our groups/message boards/chat rooms, for the births of their children, through divorces and marriages and sadly through the loss of loved ones. We are tight. We fight with each other like sisters but when the chips are down we band together. It's a beautiful thing.
 |
| Do you really want to mess with someone who has over 200 sisters? |
One of the mommas brought it to our attention that this Adalia Rose Memes page existed. Immediately we all went over and a few of us had words with the followers. No big deal. The problem was they weren't even a little bit abashed by the fact that they had been caught out doing this awful thing. They were PROUD of it. They truly believe that Adalia's mother is exploiting her so in protest they have created this page. That's their story and they're sticking to it. It's not OK to create a support page for your sick child but it is apparently perfectly acceptable to steal their pictures, slap vulgar captions on them and poke fun at their disability. The logic is astounding.
Wanna hear something even more astounding? I know you do.
Facebook, in it's wisdom, thinks it is perfectly acceptable too!
Sure, post a picture of your child breastfeeding and they drop the hammer faster than an auctioneer at Barrett Jackson but bullying a five year old? That's just good fun. These photos have been reported by all of our group members, on the basis that it violates Facebooks policies against hate speech. According to Zuckerberg's minions there is no hate speech. None of the photos have been removed and the page is still open for business. Never mind that this is being perpetrated against a disabled child, never mind that some of these memes are racist in nature. It's the Internet. Suck it up. Freedom of speech. Yay first amendment.
Freedom of speech? How about common decency?
 |
| Not offensive or racist at all *eyeroll* |
A friend of the family broadcast an appeal to the haters on YouTube, to no avail. There were hate pages and ugly memes about Bree, which ironically were taken down faster than whores drawers. While we got a kick out of the poetic (karmic?) justice, slacktivism isn't really our style. Why flame someone on a website when you can go national? We are currently in talks with NBC, CBS and other news affiliates. They were repulsed by the fact that Facebook has let this go unchecked for as long as it has. We couldn't get through to the creator of the page or appeal to her nonexistent sense of decency so we are appealing to you faithful reader. One thing about us Internet moms, we don't take this kind of thing lying down. Don't let them get away with this, for Adalias sake. Protest this.
Sign this petition.
Report this page.
Contact your local news.
More importantly, teach your children that this is wrong. Where the hell are this girls parents? Do they think this is acceptable behavior?
Do you?
Pin It
Friday, July 13, 2012
Avoiding the Grandparent Trap
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You guys ever had this happen to you?
You're having a great morning with your kids: cartoons are on, everyone got fed without incident, your oldest child is running around in a diaper with rubber boots on the wrong feet waving a magic wand (What? That only happens to me?). Everything is going swimmingly and then...BAM. The doorbell rings. Nana pops in for a visit on her way to work. You love her but you can't help but wince internally. There goes your peace and quiet for the rest of the day. She means well but she manages to wind your kids up like clockwork mice every time she see's them. Your children adore her because with her every day is a holiday, drum sets are perfectly reasonable gifts for toddlers and lollipops are one of the four major food groups.
It's not her fault. Her grandmother did it to her, her mother did it to you and one day you will get to do it to your grand kids. It's the circle of life. It is a grandparents privilege...no...it is their responsibility to spoil the crap out of your kids. She is under obligation to every generation of grandmothers before her to continue this time honored tradition, effing up your routines and systems. You see, when she was raising you, her mother made a half joking prediction. She said that one day you were going to grow up to be a handful, and that you were going to give your mother all the grey hairs that your mother gave her. Sound familiar? She probably said the same thing to you when your child was born.
Then she set out to make it a reality.
Being a grandmother means never having to say no. It doesn't make sense. She had no problem telling you no when you were growing up. It's as though she was given a finite number of no's and then wasted them all on you. Now everything is yes. Staying up past bedtime? Yes. Candy for breakfast? Yes. Dirt bikes for their birthday. Hell to the yes!!! Grandma is the toddler equivalent of a rock star. She gets to do all the things with them that she wished she could have done with you. The problem was she was too busy raising you and trying to keep you from drawing on the car with a rock and/or licking an electrical outlet. Now she is making up for lost time.
She doesn't have to do the whole disciplinarian thing. That's YOUR job. She gets to play now. They didn't have any of these cool toys when she had you. When you were a baby you had a rattle, a teddy bear and a favorite blankie. If you were really lucky you got a walker with wheels, guaranteed to send you headfirst down whatever set of stairs was closest. Thanks to the combined efforts of both sets of grandparents your kids have toys worth the GDP of a small country. Why the bounty now? Easy. She doesn't have to buy diapers anymore. She can afford the fun stuff. I suspect she might have stock in Toys "R" Us.
So, how do you avoid a rift in your relationship with your mother while ensuring she respects YOUR rights as a mother? The same way you eat an elephant. One bite at a time. You can't change her and you shouldn't want to. She might drive you batshit crazy but her heart is in the right place. Really, can you ever hold a grudge against someone who loves your kids so much that she is willing to let them use her as a jungle gym for hours on end? Not to mention enduring endless hours of "Ring Around The Rosie" and "Itsy Bitsy Spider". You can't change her but you can change the way you look at her. Here are a few useful suggestions to get the most out of her visits and get some precious alone time while you are at it.
Draw your line in the sand.
Let her know what's negotiable and what's not. She gave your kid a second helping of cake for dessert without asking you first? Meh...not the end of the world. She gave your child a big ice cream cone and a milkshake because she doesn't believe he's actually lactose intolerant, you are just overreacting? Ok, that's crossing a line. Remember that this is YOUR house and as long as she is under your roof she needs to abide by your rules. Just pick your battles wisely. Keeping them up past their bedtime probably isn't worth starting a family feud over. Causing them physical pain or discomfort, albeit unintentionally, is grounds for a showdown. In my house I can shrug pretty much anything off with an eyeroll and a glass of wine BUT when it comes to the safety and health of my children I will pitch a fit (out of sight of the kids of course, they don't need to see friction between the authority figures in their lives).
Make her bring food.
This is especially important if you have new babies in the house. This technique was perfected by my own mother, who realized early on that even the most unwelcome visitor will be graciously received...provided she has Indian takeaway and ice cream. Nothing says "Sorry for dropping by unannounced at the worst possible time." better than a big plate of Butter Chicken and a double scoop of Pralines and Cream.
Get her to babysit.
So, she want's to come for a visit, eh? That is a fantastic opportunity to go get your hair did, do some errands or even just take a shower for twenty minutes, uninterrupted. Shave something, for Pete's sake. After all, she knows how to take care of kids. She raised you didn't she? Granted it wasn't as stressful back then, before the internet made us all paranoid about our parenting skills. Just make sure she knows how to open the childproof locks on the fridge and garbage cans before you leave (trust me on this one)
Let her clean.
Are you like me? Do you shoo people away when they try to help? STOP THAT. Ok, so it is a little annoying when you open your dishwasher and the plates aren't how you like them and the dryer is stacked with a pile of towels folded the wrong way. Suck it up, put it all away and be grateful you didn't have to do it yourself. It's not as easy to bitch about how much extra work grandma visits are if you actually let her pitch in and help. Just because she wants to tell you the "right" way to sort cutlery doesn't mean you have to listen. Just smile and nod and take the help.
Stash the Toys.
She showed up at your house with yet another pile of toys for the kids, despite the fact that you have asked her repeatedly not to spoil them. Who says you have to give them all to the kids at once? Put your foot down. You might not be able to stop her from shopping but you can control how you dole out the gifts. Give the kids a couple and put the rest away in a closet. Wrap them up for Christmas, Birthdays, Groundhog Day. Whatever holiday you want. Did she bring a ridiculously age inappropriate toy? Tell her you will gladly hang on to that electric guitar until your infant is old enough to appreciate it. Make sure it's her name on the tag so the kids know who to thank and make sure there are no live animals involved. Decomposing hamsters make lousy presents.
Finally
Respect Her Wisdom
All jokes aside, as irritating as her behavior can be remember this; Whatever you are going through with your kids, chances are she went through it too. She might piss you off from time to time but she is a sympathetic ear. She understands why you have bald spots, she tore out a few clumps of her own hair when you were a kid too. She knows a home remedy for every complaint and, at the very least, will make you a nice hot cup of tea and listen to you vent. She knows how to get rid of colic, earaches and can diagnose chicken pox and slather your kid in Calamine lotion faster than you can Google the symptoms. She will never judge you, even if she doesn't understand you. She might be their grandma but she will always be your mom.
And she did a pretty damn good job with you!
All Images: Ambro at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
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You guys ever had this happen to you?
You're having a great morning with your kids: cartoons are on, everyone got fed without incident, your oldest child is running around in a diaper with rubber boots on the wrong feet waving a magic wand (What? That only happens to me?). Everything is going swimmingly and then...BAM. The doorbell rings. Nana pops in for a visit on her way to work. You love her but you can't help but wince internally. There goes your peace and quiet for the rest of the day. She means well but she manages to wind your kids up like clockwork mice every time she see's them. Your children adore her because with her every day is a holiday, drum sets are perfectly reasonable gifts for toddlers and lollipops are one of the four major food groups.
It's not her fault. Her grandmother did it to her, her mother did it to you and one day you will get to do it to your grand kids. It's the circle of life. It is a grandparents privilege...no...it is their responsibility to spoil the crap out of your kids. She is under obligation to every generation of grandmothers before her to continue this time honored tradition, effing up your routines and systems. You see, when she was raising you, her mother made a half joking prediction. She said that one day you were going to grow up to be a handful, and that you were going to give your mother all the grey hairs that your mother gave her. Sound familiar? She probably said the same thing to you when your child was born.
Then she set out to make it a reality.
 |
| "I'm not spoiling them dear, I'm just being a good Grandma." |
Being a grandmother means never having to say no. It doesn't make sense. She had no problem telling you no when you were growing up. It's as though she was given a finite number of no's and then wasted them all on you. Now everything is yes. Staying up past bedtime? Yes. Candy for breakfast? Yes. Dirt bikes for their birthday. Hell to the yes!!! Grandma is the toddler equivalent of a rock star. She gets to do all the things with them that she wished she could have done with you. The problem was she was too busy raising you and trying to keep you from drawing on the car with a rock and/or licking an electrical outlet. Now she is making up for lost time.
She doesn't have to do the whole disciplinarian thing. That's YOUR job. She gets to play now. They didn't have any of these cool toys when she had you. When you were a baby you had a rattle, a teddy bear and a favorite blankie. If you were really lucky you got a walker with wheels, guaranteed to send you headfirst down whatever set of stairs was closest. Thanks to the combined efforts of both sets of grandparents your kids have toys worth the GDP of a small country. Why the bounty now? Easy. She doesn't have to buy diapers anymore. She can afford the fun stuff. I suspect she might have stock in Toys "R" Us.
 |
| "An Xbox is a great present...Yes, I know she's only three, whats that got to do with anything?" |
So, how do you avoid a rift in your relationship with your mother while ensuring she respects YOUR rights as a mother? The same way you eat an elephant. One bite at a time. You can't change her and you shouldn't want to. She might drive you batshit crazy but her heart is in the right place. Really, can you ever hold a grudge against someone who loves your kids so much that she is willing to let them use her as a jungle gym for hours on end? Not to mention enduring endless hours of "Ring Around The Rosie" and "Itsy Bitsy Spider". You can't change her but you can change the way you look at her. Here are a few useful suggestions to get the most out of her visits and get some precious alone time while you are at it.
Draw your line in the sand.
Let her know what's negotiable and what's not. She gave your kid a second helping of cake for dessert without asking you first? Meh...not the end of the world. She gave your child a big ice cream cone and a milkshake because she doesn't believe he's actually lactose intolerant, you are just overreacting? Ok, that's crossing a line. Remember that this is YOUR house and as long as she is under your roof she needs to abide by your rules. Just pick your battles wisely. Keeping them up past their bedtime probably isn't worth starting a family feud over. Causing them physical pain or discomfort, albeit unintentionally, is grounds for a showdown. In my house I can shrug pretty much anything off with an eyeroll and a glass of wine BUT when it comes to the safety and health of my children I will pitch a fit (out of sight of the kids of course, they don't need to see friction between the authority figures in their lives).
Make her bring food.
This is especially important if you have new babies in the house. This technique was perfected by my own mother, who realized early on that even the most unwelcome visitor will be graciously received...provided she has Indian takeaway and ice cream. Nothing says "Sorry for dropping by unannounced at the worst possible time." better than a big plate of Butter Chicken and a double scoop of Pralines and Cream.
Get her to babysit.
So, she want's to come for a visit, eh? That is a fantastic opportunity to go get your hair did, do some errands or even just take a shower for twenty minutes, uninterrupted. Shave something, for Pete's sake. After all, she knows how to take care of kids. She raised you didn't she? Granted it wasn't as stressful back then, before the internet made us all paranoid about our parenting skills. Just make sure she knows how to open the childproof locks on the fridge and garbage cans before you leave (trust me on this one)
Let her clean.
Are you like me? Do you shoo people away when they try to help? STOP THAT. Ok, so it is a little annoying when you open your dishwasher and the plates aren't how you like them and the dryer is stacked with a pile of towels folded the wrong way. Suck it up, put it all away and be grateful you didn't have to do it yourself. It's not as easy to bitch about how much extra work grandma visits are if you actually let her pitch in and help. Just because she wants to tell you the "right" way to sort cutlery doesn't mean you have to listen. Just smile and nod and take the help.
Stash the Toys.
She showed up at your house with yet another pile of toys for the kids, despite the fact that you have asked her repeatedly not to spoil them. Who says you have to give them all to the kids at once? Put your foot down. You might not be able to stop her from shopping but you can control how you dole out the gifts. Give the kids a couple and put the rest away in a closet. Wrap them up for Christmas, Birthdays, Groundhog Day. Whatever holiday you want. Did she bring a ridiculously age inappropriate toy? Tell her you will gladly hang on to that electric guitar until your infant is old enough to appreciate it. Make sure it's her name on the tag so the kids know who to thank and make sure there are no live animals involved. Decomposing hamsters make lousy presents.
 |
| "They're going to love her...Do you think we should have asked first? Nah, didn't think so" |
Finally
Respect Her Wisdom
All jokes aside, as irritating as her behavior can be remember this; Whatever you are going through with your kids, chances are she went through it too. She might piss you off from time to time but she is a sympathetic ear. She understands why you have bald spots, she tore out a few clumps of her own hair when you were a kid too. She knows a home remedy for every complaint and, at the very least, will make you a nice hot cup of tea and listen to you vent. She knows how to get rid of colic, earaches and can diagnose chicken pox and slather your kid in Calamine lotion faster than you can Google the symptoms. She will never judge you, even if she doesn't understand you. She might be their grandma but she will always be your mom.
 |
| "You actually WANT my opinion? Really? Are you feeling OK?" |
And she did a pretty damn good job with you!
All Images: Ambro at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
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Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Parkerpalooza 2012
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This past May long weekend had a special significance for my family. We went on a group camping trip to honor a good buddy who passed away last year, Parker Summers. Parker was a special kind of guy, full of fun and laughter, who loved music and good times. His spirit lives on in all of those whose lives he touched. We honored him, and his parents Lori and Scotty, at Parkerpalooza 2012.
It was a great weekend. There were about forty camps set up, not counting those who came for the day and ended up sleeping it off in their cars. Josh and Reina, Parker's brother and sister in law, drove up from the states. Mr. Zinga and myself borrowed his brothers tent trailer and stayed one night. Parker was on everyone's mind but in a good way. We shared stories and laughs and yeah, a few tears too but it was great. The whole point of the weekend was remembrance. Parker left a huge mark on our community and our family. We named our youngest daughter after him and his parents are her godparents. One local artisan presented Lori and Scotty with a carved stone inscribed with the word Parkerpalooza and a sun symbol. We all got a little choked up at that.
I gotta say I was a little nervous about taking the babies to such a busy event but everyone was great. There were tons of kids for CeeCee to play with, lots of spaces for her to run around and if all else failed, daddy took her for a scooter ride. She loved the music, ate her own body weight in junk food and slept like a log even though the temperature dipped below freezing. Camping with a spirited child takes a LOT of patience. I definitely underestimated just how hyper she was going to be, despite the warnings from friends who said I was "insane for taking two kids under two camping in the wilderness". I also hadn't factored in how much all that trash food was going to affect her, live and learn for next time. By Sunday she was a total gong show. It wasn't all bad though. Mr. Zinga pulled his weight in the parenting department so I didn't have to spend the WHOLE weekend chasing her around and luckily baby Parker is small enough that she wasn't much trouble at all. I was even able to have a cocktail or two.
Now I'm off to clean up the camping gear and get it ready for our next wilderness adventure. In the meantime here are some more pics of our trip. Hope you all had a great long weekend.
Cheers,
MamaZinga
Pin It
This past May long weekend had a special significance for my family. We went on a group camping trip to honor a good buddy who passed away last year, Parker Summers. Parker was a special kind of guy, full of fun and laughter, who loved music and good times. His spirit lives on in all of those whose lives he touched. We honored him, and his parents Lori and Scotty, at Parkerpalooza 2012.
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| Parker Summers |
It was a great weekend. There were about forty camps set up, not counting those who came for the day and ended up sleeping it off in their cars. Josh and Reina, Parker's brother and sister in law, drove up from the states. Mr. Zinga and myself borrowed his brothers tent trailer and stayed one night. Parker was on everyone's mind but in a good way. We shared stories and laughs and yeah, a few tears too but it was great. The whole point of the weekend was remembrance. Parker left a huge mark on our community and our family. We named our youngest daughter after him and his parents are her godparents. One local artisan presented Lori and Scotty with a carved stone inscribed with the word Parkerpalooza and a sun symbol. We all got a little choked up at that.
I gotta say I was a little nervous about taking the babies to such a busy event but everyone was great. There were tons of kids for CeeCee to play with, lots of spaces for her to run around and if all else failed, daddy took her for a scooter ride. She loved the music, ate her own body weight in junk food and slept like a log even though the temperature dipped below freezing. Camping with a spirited child takes a LOT of patience. I definitely underestimated just how hyper she was going to be, despite the warnings from friends who said I was "insane for taking two kids under two camping in the wilderness". I also hadn't factored in how much all that trash food was going to affect her, live and learn for next time. By Sunday she was a total gong show. It wasn't all bad though. Mr. Zinga pulled his weight in the parenting department so I didn't have to spend the WHOLE weekend chasing her around and luckily baby Parker is small enough that she wasn't much trouble at all. I was even able to have a cocktail or two.
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| Daddy, scooter ride. NOW! |
Now I'm off to clean up the camping gear and get it ready for our next wilderness adventure. In the meantime here are some more pics of our trip. Hope you all had a great long weekend.
Cheers,
MamaZinga
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| Lori and Scotty |
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| Josh and Patrice enjoying a cocktail |
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| Waiting for SGAAG to perform |
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| The vocal stylings of Alex, front woman for SGAAG |
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| Josh and Reina, We'll forgive her for drinking Pabst beer since she was nice enough to let us use her pictures, lol. |
Monday, May 14, 2012
Happy Mothers Day. When's Dinner?
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Happy belated Mothers Day to all. How was your "big day"?
I don't want to hear that you got breakfast in bed, or hubby left jewelery on your pillow or that your children wrote you a poem.
Save that shit for your Facebook status.
I'm sure we all got spoiled, for like five minutes. What happened after that. Did you get pampered all day or did you change Pampers all day? Did you get taken out for dinner or did you have to make a big family dinner. In short, did "your" big day end up turning into just another Sunday?
Here's how my Mothers Day went down:
It's all good. I had a great time despite all the ups and downs. Next year I will make sure I remind Hubby just how important Mothers Day is to me. Not that he's likely to forget.
Photo credit from top:
photostock / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Meme copied from eatliver.com Pin It
I don't want to hear that you got breakfast in bed, or hubby left jewelery on your pillow or that your children wrote you a poem.
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| Hurry, keep frolicking or they are going to make us do some work |
Save that shit for your Facebook status.
I'm sure we all got spoiled, for like five minutes. What happened after that. Did you get pampered all day or did you change Pampers all day? Did you get taken out for dinner or did you have to make a big family dinner. In short, did "your" big day end up turning into just another Sunday?
Here's how my Mothers Day went down:
- Got to sleep in with Parker. Nursed her back to sleep and crawled out of bed without waking her. Win.
- Hubby tells me he wants to take his mom out for lunch. I say great, who's going to watch the kids. He says "Oh I guess you want to come too eh?" Fail.
- Spent next half an hour curled up in a ball on the couch. Hubby apologizes and we get back on track. Decide to order takeaway and eat at his mom's house, negating the need for childcare. Win.
- Spent day rushing from his moms house to my moms house, Mom and I cook a massive steak dinner in honor of mothers day. As usual we are the last to eat. Fail.
- Get home later than we expected but with the added bonus of CeeCee having fallen asleep in the car. Put Parker to bed and got her to sleep almost instantly. Win.
- Realize Hubby has also fallen asleep almost instantly. Epic Fail.
Words of wisdom
It's all good. I had a great time despite all the ups and downs. Next year I will make sure I remind Hubby just how important Mothers Day is to me. Not that he's likely to forget.
Photo credit from top:
photostock / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Meme copied from eatliver.com Pin It
Sunday, April 29, 2012
There goes my hero
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There aren't many role models out there for young women. I fear that my daughters are going to grow up aspiring to be like...Ke$ha? Suri Cruise will be all grown up by then, maybe she will be a strong role model, you know, except for that whole Scientology thing. Luckily Twilight will have blown over by then so I won't have to worry about them acting as vapid as Bella Swan. The Jane Eyre's and Elizabeth Bennett's of the world have long since been replaced by Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato. Teenage girls don't seem inclined toward self sacrifice and good deeds anymore do they?
Enter Jolene Hayter.
I have had the privilege of knowing Jolene for a long time. I have been doing her hair for at least four years and in that time I have seen her grow from a sweet young girl into an articulate, well mannered young woman. She has been involved in many projects over the years, from weaving sleeping mats out of recycled grocery bags and distributing them to the homeless on East Hastings in Vancouver to performing as Cindy Lou Who in a high school production of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. This year I had the honor of seeing her crowned Queen Valvedette the 64th, the highest honor that can be conveyed to a teenage girl in our fair city. Though it all she has remained humble and gracious, never allowing he successes to go to her head.
I was pretty proud of her the day I saw her for the first time in her role as goodwill ambassador, her crown shining atop her sleek blonde updo and her sunny smile shining down on all the children gathered around her parade float. The little girls in the crowd were so excited to see a real princess in their midst and I was just as overcome. As proud as I was that day I have never been as proud of her as I was today, when she allowed me to help her cut off all those beautiful lengths of hair in support of a cause near and dear to her heart.
Jolene has a brother named Brandon. When he was only twelve years old he was badly burned by a spray paint can that unfortunately made its way into a bonfire. I heard his touching story today, along with that of burn survivor Lynda Fraser, at Hero Day, an event organized by his Jolene in support of the BC Firefighters Burn Fund. The Burn Fund helps the families of burn victims with expenses related to recovery, medical supplies and rehabilitation. It also funds a summer camp where children who are burn survivors can play and have fun with other children who have been in their shoes and are able to relate to them. I heard Brandon talk today about the way other children responded to him when he returned to school with his scars and his protective equipment, and how he felt so outside of "normal" school life. Then I heard him talk about how it felt to be among peers at a burn camp who knew what he had been through and could care less about his scars. It made me truly grateful to be able to help out in any way I could.
The goal of Hero Day was to show that being truly beautiful has nothing to do with the texture of your skin or how pretty your hair is...true beauty comes from within and the courage and spirit that these burn survivors show is a shining example of that beauty. There is a lesson for all of us in there. It is so easy to judge someone based on their appearance but if we take a second to listen to their story we may find ourselves looking at them in a whole new light. Jolene pledged to cut her hair off to a mere inch in order to raise funds and awareness. She thought that maybe by sacrificing her gorgeous hair and taking away some of her external beauty she could inspire others to look past the physical and appreciate the beauty within but her plan may have backfired. She looks even more beautiful now than she did before. I am so glad that there are still girls like her in this world for my daughters to look up to and I am proud to call her my hero.
To donate to the burn fund click here:)
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There aren't many role models out there for young women. I fear that my daughters are going to grow up aspiring to be like...Ke$ha? Suri Cruise will be all grown up by then, maybe she will be a strong role model, you know, except for that whole Scientology thing. Luckily Twilight will have blown over by then so I won't have to worry about them acting as vapid as Bella Swan. The Jane Eyre's and Elizabeth Bennett's of the world have long since been replaced by Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato. Teenage girls don't seem inclined toward self sacrifice and good deeds anymore do they?
Enter Jolene Hayter.
I have had the privilege of knowing Jolene for a long time. I have been doing her hair for at least four years and in that time I have seen her grow from a sweet young girl into an articulate, well mannered young woman. She has been involved in many projects over the years, from weaving sleeping mats out of recycled grocery bags and distributing them to the homeless on East Hastings in Vancouver to performing as Cindy Lou Who in a high school production of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. This year I had the honor of seeing her crowned Queen Valvedette the 64th, the highest honor that can be conveyed to a teenage girl in our fair city. Though it all she has remained humble and gracious, never allowing he successes to go to her head.
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| Queen Valvedette the 64th, Jolene Hayter |
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| Jolene's Family. Her mom Ilona, brother Brandon, and father Don |
The goal of Hero Day was to show that being truly beautiful has nothing to do with the texture of your skin or how pretty your hair is...true beauty comes from within and the courage and spirit that these burn survivors show is a shining example of that beauty. There is a lesson for all of us in there. It is so easy to judge someone based on their appearance but if we take a second to listen to their story we may find ourselves looking at them in a whole new light. Jolene pledged to cut her hair off to a mere inch in order to raise funds and awareness. She thought that maybe by sacrificing her gorgeous hair and taking away some of her external beauty she could inspire others to look past the physical and appreciate the beauty within but her plan may have backfired. She looks even more beautiful now than she did before. I am so glad that there are still girls like her in this world for my daughters to look up to and I am proud to call her my hero.
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| My Hero |
Monday, April 23, 2012
Sparks and Flames.
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This is Mr. Zinga and myself a few months before we had CeeCee.
We're pretty cute, eh? It's been almost seven blissful years. This is by far the longest, happiest and healthiest relationship of my life.
We have the kind of love that Nicholas Sparks writes novels about, that 80's hair metal bands sing power ballads about. He writes me sonnets and leaves them on my pillow. We have lingering bubble baths, with candles and rose petals...*facepalm...I can't do it...I can't keep typing this crap with a straight face.
We don't do hearts and flowers. We're too busy being parents.
I'm not complaining. At all. I will take flannel jammies and a cup of tea with him over chocolate covered strawberries and champagne with anyone else, hands down. It's not a lack of passion, we have a different kind of passion. It's healthier. I really have it all. A lover, a partner, a friend and a family. I never had that with any of the so called "great loves" of my life. When I think of a person being madly or head over heels in love I picture them completely losing themselves in someone else. Everything revolves around the object of their affection...Every. Damn. Thing. Their heart skips a beat every time the phone rings just in case it's..gasp...HIM. They can't concentrate on work. Their friends can't stand to talk to them because they are sick of listening to the never ending saga, the ups and downs of the relationship. More often than not it burns white hot, like a holiday sparkler, and like a sparkler it burns out all to quickly.
Sound like fun? Not to me.
Don't get me wrong, we had that, for like ten minutes at the beginning. Doesn't everyone? Nobody would ever hook up in the first place if it wasn't exciting. What was REALLY special was realizing, after that first year or so when the novelty had worn off, that I still wanted to be with him. I wasn't trying to change him and he wasn't trying to change me (well, except maybe to get me to quit smoking but I can't blame him, it IS a filthy habit). Our relationship kept growing and evolving. We moved in together, got a dog, had kids, became a family. I eat the mushrooms that he picks off his pizza. He finishes my drinks so they don't pile up around the house (to this day I have yet to finish an entire can, glass or bottle of anything). He makes me laugh...a lot. We make mistakes...a lot. We raise our kids together. Life is good. We have been together long enough to cut through the crap and get down to the serious business of building a life together.
That's my idea of fun.
It isn't always easy, I'd be lying if I said it was. We fight. We're good at it. With two kids under two we have elevated bickering to a whole new level. Besides, anyone who says they never fight with their spouse is either lying or heavily medicated. No, we work at it. Some days it's more work than others. It's always worth it though. It isn't as flashy as a sparkler. It's more like a fireplace. Sturdy, useful and it keeps us warm at night. We keep it burning and it lights our home and our lives.
Show me a sparkler that can do all that.
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This is Mr. Zinga and myself a few months before we had CeeCee.
We're pretty cute, eh? It's been almost seven blissful years. This is by far the longest, happiest and healthiest relationship of my life.
We have the kind of love that Nicholas Sparks writes novels about, that 80's hair metal bands sing power ballads about. He writes me sonnets and leaves them on my pillow. We have lingering bubble baths, with candles and rose petals...*facepalm...I can't do it...I can't keep typing this crap with a straight face.
We don't do hearts and flowers. We're too busy being parents.
I'm not complaining. At all. I will take flannel jammies and a cup of tea with him over chocolate covered strawberries and champagne with anyone else, hands down. It's not a lack of passion, we have a different kind of passion. It's healthier. I really have it all. A lover, a partner, a friend and a family. I never had that with any of the so called "great loves" of my life. When I think of a person being madly or head over heels in love I picture them completely losing themselves in someone else. Everything revolves around the object of their affection...Every. Damn. Thing. Their heart skips a beat every time the phone rings just in case it's..gasp...HIM. They can't concentrate on work. Their friends can't stand to talk to them because they are sick of listening to the never ending saga, the ups and downs of the relationship. More often than not it burns white hot, like a holiday sparkler, and like a sparkler it burns out all to quickly.
Sound like fun? Not to me.
Don't get me wrong, we had that, for like ten minutes at the beginning. Doesn't everyone? Nobody would ever hook up in the first place if it wasn't exciting. What was REALLY special was realizing, after that first year or so when the novelty had worn off, that I still wanted to be with him. I wasn't trying to change him and he wasn't trying to change me (well, except maybe to get me to quit smoking but I can't blame him, it IS a filthy habit). Our relationship kept growing and evolving. We moved in together, got a dog, had kids, became a family. I eat the mushrooms that he picks off his pizza. He finishes my drinks so they don't pile up around the house (to this day I have yet to finish an entire can, glass or bottle of anything). He makes me laugh...a lot. We make mistakes...a lot. We raise our kids together. Life is good. We have been together long enough to cut through the crap and get down to the serious business of building a life together.
That's my idea of fun.
It isn't always easy, I'd be lying if I said it was. We fight. We're good at it. With two kids under two we have elevated bickering to a whole new level. Besides, anyone who says they never fight with their spouse is either lying or heavily medicated. No, we work at it. Some days it's more work than others. It's always worth it though. It isn't as flashy as a sparkler. It's more like a fireplace. Sturdy, useful and it keeps us warm at night. We keep it burning and it lights our home and our lives.
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| photo credit |
Show me a sparkler that can do all that.
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Thursday, April 12, 2012
Making it up as I go along.
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In the words of the immortal Anne of Green Gables
At least I have the Internet. Whoever said kids don't come with an instruction manual never Googled "Pregnancy and Parenting". There are roughly ten thousand websites out there, all claiming to be the leading authority on all things baby. Ok, I might be exaggerating but not by much.
My life changed forever when I peed on that plastic stick. My fate was sealed by a thin pink line. I was a mom. Gone were the lazy Sunday morning hangover breakfasts with my man. I would no longer be able to justify buying expensive shoes just because they were "cute". I was going to have to quit smoking and start investing.
I hadn't really given much thought to my future but now that I was responsible for someone else's future it was time to get serious.
First stop...the Internet. First site browsed... What To Expect When You're Expecting
Logical first choice right? After all, the book IS well known and respected.
Whoa, that website should be renamed. I think 1001 Gross Facts About Pregnancy would be more appropriate. I joined a home board (July 2010). This was it, I was joining an elite group of mommies in the know. Gestational Jedi's who would unlock the secrets of motherhood like a bunch of obstetrical Obi Wans. They were discussing serious and controversial topics such as...drum roll please...flatulence. Huh? Indigestion. WTF? One girl claimed to have felt her baby kick at 6 weeks and when skeptics pointed out that her baby was a tiny cluster of cells that didn't have feet they were told to take their negative attitudes to the Hot Topics board with the rest of the catty bitches (more on this later). These women were just as clueless as I was. Nowhere did it tell me how to be a good mom. It was clear that I was going to have to broaden my horizons if I expected to find all the answers. BabyCenter, The Bump, they were all the same. There were no answers, just more questions. Everyone had different opinions on the "right" way to raise a child. Which one was right?
In the end I did what all new moms do. I read some books, I talked to my mom, I talked to a few friends who are moms, I watched A Baby Story on TLC. We figured it out. We're not perfect but we're doing ok. We research, we weigh pros and cons of this method over that method and sometimes we make it up as we go along. We learn from our mistakes and considering how many mistakes we've made that is no small feat.
I did learn something from my time spent on these parenting websites though:
Opinions are like assholes...Everyone has one and most of them stink.
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Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet? - L.M. MontgomeryThis is the thought that gets me through most days. I have no idea what I'm doing, I mostly just make shit up as I go along. I suspect I'm not alone.
At least I have the Internet. Whoever said kids don't come with an instruction manual never Googled "Pregnancy and Parenting". There are roughly ten thousand websites out there, all claiming to be the leading authority on all things baby. Ok, I might be exaggerating but not by much.
My life changed forever when I peed on that plastic stick. My fate was sealed by a thin pink line. I was a mom. Gone were the lazy Sunday morning hangover breakfasts with my man. I would no longer be able to justify buying expensive shoes just because they were "cute". I was going to have to quit smoking and start investing.
I hadn't really given much thought to my future but now that I was responsible for someone else's future it was time to get serious.
First stop...the Internet. First site browsed... What To Expect When You're Expecting
Logical first choice right? After all, the book IS well known and respected.
Whoa, that website should be renamed. I think 1001 Gross Facts About Pregnancy would be more appropriate. I joined a home board (July 2010). This was it, I was joining an elite group of mommies in the know. Gestational Jedi's who would unlock the secrets of motherhood like a bunch of obstetrical Obi Wans. They were discussing serious and controversial topics such as...drum roll please...flatulence. Huh? Indigestion. WTF? One girl claimed to have felt her baby kick at 6 weeks and when skeptics pointed out that her baby was a tiny cluster of cells that didn't have feet they were told to take their negative attitudes to the Hot Topics board with the rest of the catty bitches (more on this later). These women were just as clueless as I was. Nowhere did it tell me how to be a good mom. It was clear that I was going to have to broaden my horizons if I expected to find all the answers. BabyCenter, The Bump, they were all the same. There were no answers, just more questions. Everyone had different opinions on the "right" way to raise a child. Which one was right?
In the end I did what all new moms do. I read some books, I talked to my mom, I talked to a few friends who are moms, I watched A Baby Story on TLC. We figured it out. We're not perfect but we're doing ok. We research, we weigh pros and cons of this method over that method and sometimes we make it up as we go along. We learn from our mistakes and considering how many mistakes we've made that is no small feat.
I did learn something from my time spent on these parenting websites though:
Opinions are like assholes...Everyone has one and most of them stink.
Pin It
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