Ringing in Change for the New Year

Change. It is just a simple, six letter word. But for some, it can bring on anxiety, while for others, it can evoke excitement and promise of good things to come!

I am hoping for the latter in the New Year. Not only a new year, a new decade! Ripe with opportunity to illicit change and hopefully reap the positive that flows along with it!

In Robin’s last blog, she spoke of change through getting rid of things she really didn’t need anymore; Her pig collection. Or at least a fair part of this collection. And in her blog, she spoke of change. How by “purging” part of her collection, it also freed her to open up to other things. (A cow collection, possibly?)

This past year has been an awful year for my family. My husband, my son, me, even one of our dogs, have all been diagnosed with lifelong medical problems. It is hard enough when one member of a family has to cope with the realization that they have to learn to adapt to a chronic medical condition. Imagine an entire family! And their dog!

It’s been a long, difficult year. But we made it through. Now I want change. Change for the better. I want us all to move past the anger and the grief to acceptance. And from there, I want to move forward to living our lives as happily and as productively as we each can!

Medical condition or not, I have my own plans for the new year! I want to become more involved in a business venture! I would like to do more writing, maybe take a class or two! I want to become more involved in my son’s school! Possibly volunteer as a Class Mom! (Well, okay...maybe not THAT involved! At least not yet!).

Like Robin, I, too, am ringing in change through getting rid of, contributing to charity, offering to others, things that are no longer necessary in my life. Clutter leads to chaos which leads to disharmony. I have clutter. Too much clutter. In just about every corner in my home and facet in my mind. All of it is going to be slowly dispersed with the anticipation that more harmony will ensue.

And when I found out that Robin didn’t sell, but simply gave away her pig collection, that inspired me to want to be more altruistic as well! I also want to feel my heart swell by donating items to others that I no longer have any use for! I recently gave away two iPods that my husband and I no longer used. We gave them away to friends. I was thrilled that the recipients were tremendously happy! My heart did swell! But I was also glad that, like Robin’s pigs, the iPods were going to good homes. Going to people who really wanted them and would use them and get enjoyment out of them and maybe make THEIR new year a little happier! Having two iPods sitting in a drawer was unnecessary. They, along with a lot of other items in our home, need to go elsewhere.

So, as the saying goes, change can be good! Really good! And I am looking forward to seeing that ball drop tomorrow, and cry out, “Happy New Year!!” I know my year is going to change for the better! My wish is the same for you! Have a VERY Happy New Year!!

White Christmas

There is something about having a young child in the home that brings a little extra excitement to a holiday. Especially Christmas. Especially when it snows.

We had a blizzard run through the East Coast, where we live, this past weekend, which prompted my son to insist that Santa and his reindeer were coming! He was so sure, that he kept stopping in his tracks to say, “Shh! I hear reindeer!,” several times that night! I tried to repeatedly explain that Christmas wasn’t for a few more days. But he tenaciously insisted that if it snows, especially a lot of snow, then Santa would be on his way!

I bought ingredients to make cookies for Santa later in the week, but my son couldn’t wait. The only cookies we had in the house were Nilla wafers, so my son pushed a chair to the cabinet where we have the special “Santa plate,” took it out, put Nilla wafers on one side for Santa and baby carrots on the other side for the reindeer. He then brought the plate to a small table in our Living Room and pushed the table near to our fireplace.

Next was fireplace redecoration. All of the decorations that were in front of the fireplace had to be moved. Unfortunately to the middle of the Living Room. My son is quite lucky because I didn’t have a fireplace in my home growing up. We had to concoct a pretend one! Next, my son had to gather my assistance in hanging up everyone’s stockings on the mantel. Bye, bye Hanukkah display, hello stockings!

When my son was sure that everything was in place for Santa to come, he excitedly went to bed, but had a hard time falling asleep.

At exactly 4:45 am, I felt little hands pushing all of the blankets and covers off me (why do children do this to their mothers and not their fathers??). He was terribly excited that Santa had come and he wanted me to go downstairs with him to see if Santa had left some presents. I groggily told my son that I was pretty certain that Santa hadn’t come yet. But my excited little boy pushed the blinds to one of our window’s aside and exclaimed, “But Mommy!! Santa had to come!! There is so much snow outside!!” THAT part he was certainly right about...at least a foot of snow blanketed our backyard! And even at 4:45 am, you could see the wonder and the beauty of it!

To satisfy my son’s endless curiosity as to whether Santa had arrived, I went downstairs with him to see if there were any presents. To my son’s utter dismay, no presents were in sight and the Nilla wafers and carrots remained untouched. My son sulked to his room and I tucked him into bed, assuring him that in just a few short days, Santa WOULD be coming. And the magic of Christmas would be upon us!

He fell back to sleep, and I couldn’t help but think back to my own memories of trying to stay awake to hear reindeer hooves on the roof. Or to climb out of bed before anyone was up and search every present for ones that had my name on them!

The same scenario will occur tomorrow night! Snow will probably still be blanketing the ground. Homemade cookies and fresh carrots will be put out. Decorations will be removed from in front of the fireplace. And at approximately 4:45 am, little hands will be anxiously pushing covers off of me so that I can join my son in the REAL magic of Christmas!

Interfaith Traditions

This is always an interesting time of year for our family. And a lot of work for me! See, my husband is Jewish, I am not, but we are raising our son to be Jewish. All of this is fine except for one major thing. My son is in love with everything Christmas, especially Santa Claus!

It all started when my father was still alive and my son was 2 and 3 years old. Since my father didn’t have the stamina to put up his own Christmas tree each year, as he became elderly, we would put one up in our home while he watched us decorate it. And my Mother-in-Law never wanted my father’s holiday to be forgotten, so she would cook a big Christmas dinner for all of us.

My son, even at this young age, took all of this in. Besides the fact that there are Christmas displays everywhere you look this time of year. And Christmas cartoons, movies, and songs just about everywhere. My son became completely enamored with the mystery of Christmas.

Every year, I try to instill both the religious meaning and tradition of Hanukkah in him. But it never seems to trump Santa. “Eight crazy nights!,” I exclaim! “Eight nights of gifts!” The lighting of the candles on the beautiful Menorah he made at religious school! Still, he wants to know when Santa is coming. “How many more days, Mommy?,” he’ll ask.

My father is no longer with us, but the tradition of putting up a tree and decorating it still remain. My son moved all of the items away from the fireplace so that Santa can have easy access into our home. I am wondering how many more years he will still be believing in Santa Claus? I was certain that once he started religious school, the mystery of Santa and his reindeer would be exposed. Didn’t happen. He goes to school with predominantly Jewish children and has mostly Jewish friends. But he cannot be swayed. I’ve brought him to Tot Shabbat services, Hanukkah lightings at our Temple, festivities celebrating Hanukkah! Still, he wants to hold on to the belief of Santa.

So, as we do every year, I put up the Hanukkah decorations first. Read him books about celebrating Hanukkah, make Hanukkah crafts and play “Spin the Dreidel” with him. We watch my Mother-in-Law make potato Latkes. We put on Jewish music celebrating Hanukkah. Still, it all doesn’t matter. He anxiously awaits the man in the red suit and the white beard.

I must admit, preparing for two different winter holidays is not easy. Hanukkah is a little easier, but dragging an artificial tree up from the basement, putting it together, decorating it, making cookies for Santa and wrapping presents for BOTH holidays is a chore. I’m secretly hoping that my son comes to the realization that there really isn’t a Santa Claus. My work load would certainly diminish.

But I’m not going to be the one to squelch my son’s fantasy. It will come naturally on it’s own. Then maybe we can all focus on one holiday, light candles, eat latkes, sing songs and be united in the tradition of Hanukkah. In the meantime, I really wish my son didn’t have to announce to his religion teacher what Santa would be bringing him this year!

The Life of a Hotel Snob

Back in the days before I had my son, I used to have the flexibility to take several trips a year with my husband, all over the country. For my husband, they were all work trips. But for me, they were more than just “getaways.” For me they were trips where I could do what I wanted, when I wanted and how I wanted! Little mini vacations!

My recent “Mommy Retreat” reminded me of those times. But I found that the most interesting part of my stay was the hotel which was quite intriguing. I’ve been wracking my brain to better describe this hotel, but the best description I could conjure up is a “very upscale Days Inn.” Not that there’s anything wrong with a Days Inn. Some of them are really lovely. But I digress.

I used to be completely enamored with the Hiltons and Mariotts we stayed in! From there it was the Chateau Marmount and Century Plaza (oh, how I adored the Century Plaza!). I’ve even stayed at the Plaza Hotel (before it went Co-op), and I must say, I was completely unimpressed. We also stayed at the Four Seasons! Now that was a treat!

One day, my husband had a reservation to stay at a certain hotel, and had the paperwork to prove it, but the hotel had no information on us in their computer system. And they were completely sold out. Well, my husband, being the eternally persistent person that he is, asked the manager to find us a room, even if it meant that we would have to stay at a different hotel. The manager came back with the news that we would have to stay at a different hotel next-door...The Ritz-Carlton!! They apologized for giving us their “standard” room...which included a marble, jacuzzi bath tub, entirely marble bathroom, the most amazing 300 count sheets and duvet cover...all I could say to my husband was, “If you are looking for me, I’ll be in this room...forever.”

I read a note in the room that said I could have a complementary, scented, hand made soap. I called room service and they brought a basket of 5 different scented soaps along with a loofah back scrubber and a sea sponge!! When I went to pick out a soap, the kind gentleman said to me, “Oh, Madam, this whole basket is for you to enjoy!.” I was speechless. The hotel also sent up complementary wine and chocolate covered strawberries as an apology for making the mistake in hotels! Just staying in this one room absolutely took my breathe away, and it was then that I became what I term “The Hotel Snob.” Nothing, no other hotel experience could even come close to staying at the Ritz-Carlton!

Now I am no longer able to go with my husband on his trips since we had our son. So I always make a small request of him when he goes away: Please bring back some soap, shampoo, conditioner and lotion amenities! He always does. And it connects me a little bit to my former Hotel Snob days. Just recently my husband came back with amenities from the L’Occitane company...I was thoroughly jealous. If he brings back a “no name” brand, I pack it away to give to others in need.

Back to my “upscale Days Inn”...the rooms (suites!) were enormous with a bedroom section separated by a bathroom and kitchen area, and a huge sitting area! They also had “pod” coffee makers and a microwave and fridge. What made all of this odd is that there were rooms on the ground floor ( I had a view of the back parking lot through my bedroom window) and people constantly walking by my front window, so I had to be fully dressed before any curtains could be opened. There were also no Bell Hops, no Concierge; I had to wheel my luggage, Days Inn style, to this pretty magnificent room. I understand that in order to have such large rooms, economical corners need to be cut wherever possible, but this whole experience at this hotel was odd. Even to get to the meeting rooms, you had to walk directly through the formal (or should I say “only”) dining room, while guests were eating. Someone even brought their two, prize-winning Basset Hounds who I heard howling each morning on my way to get coffee! Strange, very strange indeed. I will say that the staff in all areas was exemplary. But maybe I’ll request a third floor room should I ever visit this hotel again. I may have humbled, but that little Hotel Snob is dying to get out...just one more time.

On Being Grateful

"Gratitude"
There is no greater act than giving thanks.
Remember to acknowledge the goodness in your life.
Quiet your mind, listen to your heart
and fill your soul with gratitude.


I wasn’t very grateful this year. As Thanksgiving approached, I began turning into the Turkey Grinch, “Bah, gobble, gobble!!” I had been getting over Strep Throat, which turned into an upper respiratory infection, and two rounds of antibiotics. My son had been sick (which is where I got the Strep to begin with), my husband was a grouch, and one of our elderly dogs was recovering from a very close to death experience.

What gratitude do I have in my life right now?? There is nothing going right in my life right now!! I wanted to boycott Thanksgiving. Practically everyone in my extended family was fighting off one type of illness or another anyway. No one was well enough to cook anything.
I am usually the one who cooks the turkey, but I could hardly get out of bed. I would have preferred just staying in my pajamas all day!

I had been posting, “Bah, gobble, gobble!” messages on Facebook as others were describing their holiday feasts and posting photos of the pies and other goodies they were making for their family gatherings. I was not thankful one bit. Even well meaning friends posted comments of encouragement. But I was steadfast in my ungratefulness of Thanksgiving this year.

Then something changed in me Thanksgiving morning. My grouchy husband was happy and sweet to me. I looked at the front page of the newspaper and saw a picture of a little girl, six years old, hugging her mother, awaiting a bone marrow transplant. I thought, “Thank goodness MY six year old boy doesn’t have to go through something as horrible as that.”
Then I thought of how well my little boy was doing in school, despite that he has learning issues and we were told before school even started that he would most likely be left back. But he won’t. He’s doing fine. And for that I decided I was HUGELY grateful!

Then my elderly dog, who was near death two weeks ago, looked at me with her big eyes! How grateful that her prognosis turned out to be “excellent,” and that she was eating hoards of food! That she gained six pounds in two weeks, and that instead of forcing her to take horse-size pills each day, she now could take very small pills only a couple times per day! For this, of a 15 year old dog, I was EXCEEDINGLY grateful!!!!

My attitude was slowly changing. I was thankful of my washing machine when I knew of someone who couldn’t buy one yet. I was thankful that our family was economically stable in these very unstable times. Although I grumbled when my ancient iBook blew up, I was even thankful that someone in our extended family had an extra Powerbook they didn’t use anymore, so that I could use it until we could buy a newer one for me. And although I still cough as I write this, among the many things I really am grateful for, I am grateful for all that I DO have, so that I can share them with you!

Crafty Mom vs. The Super Hero Turkey

My son brought home from school this week a project titled, “The Family Turkey Project,” to be completed before Thanksgiving recess. The object of the project was to come up with a “disguise” for a turkey outline cut from poster board paper. The disguise needed to prevent the turkey from being caught for Thanksgiving! The outline suggested using a variety of craft-type materials such as ribbon pieces, buttons, feathers, uncooked pasta, felt, glitter and/or glitter paint, etc, to help with the disguise.

I was excited! I wouldn’t even have to go to the craft store because I usually have a plethora of crafting supplies in the house! In fact, last Thanksgiving, my son and I made “pine cone turkeys” where we used real pine cones and gathered fallen leaves of every brilliant color you can imagine, then washed, dried and glued the leaves into the pine cone slots as the turkey tails! I even had google eyes and felt for making the turkey’s face! So I was ready for the challenge, wheels spinning in my head!

Before my husband and I even had time to finish reading the lengthy project instructions, my ambitious son came running to us with the turkey outline, completely colored in with a green outfit, a brown mask, black boots, and some type of weapon. He declared, enthusiastically, that he was finished! Finished? Finished!! How could he be finished with visions of crafting materials were still dancing in my head?!

My husband and I were so quick to share in the excitement of him taking the initiative to start the project as quickly as he did. But we also pointed out to him that this was supposed to be a family project that we had to work on together. My son wouldn’t budge. His turkey was not only complete, but perfect. Just as it was.

“But how about some buttons for his outfit or his boots, I queried?”

“Mommy! My turkey is a green Power Ranger! Power Rangers don’t wear buttons!”

“What about some material to make a cape for him?!”

“Power Rangers don’t WEAR capes, Mommy!”

“Maybe we could make his outfit sparkle with some green glitter??”

“No Mom! Power Rangers aren’t shiny!!

My excitement was diminishing. I looked at my husband for support. “It looks like a great turkey disguise to me,” he chimed in, silently thankful that he didn’t have to participate in the project.

“Okay, then,” I said, a little dejected, “Your turkey looks perfect just the way it is! You chose quite the clever disguise!” Crafty Mom no longer had a project to work on. On second thought, where are those foam sheets for the Teepees we wanted to make last year??!! Let me check the bottom drawer...

In Support of Support Groups

I tend to be a quiet and reserved type...not terribly outgoing and mildly social. But for some reason, I am attracted to support groups. Particularly support groups for Moms.

Since my son was an infant, I participated in a myriad number of different groups. Some groups were informative, but I didn’t “click” with most of the Moms. Other groups had members who I felt had different issues and/or a focus to the group that I just wasn’t looking for.

I was thrilled to find Motherhood Later Than Sooner because not only did I find a lovely group of Moms I have kept in contact with, but my son has become friendly with some of the sons of other “Later” Moms as well!

This past weekend, I went away with a large group of Moms on what I term a “Mommy Retreat.” There were quite a large group of us...150 to be exact, and I found comfort being amongst so many diverse but dedicated Moms.

There were workshops where we each had a turn to divulge a dirty little secret about being neglectful about our mothering. I happened to have divulged SEVERAL dirty little secrets! And the bonding and camaraderie that was taking place in that room at that moment allowed each and every one of us to say, “We ARE good mothers! We’re just not perfect ALL of the time! It was so refreshing to say out loud, “I slack off occasionally and my child still survives!!” Some participants were even trying to “one up” the one who “confessed” before them! We all left, happy, giggling, with a huge weight lifted off our shoulders!

There was also a woman comic who had the entire audience falling over with laughter as she played out daily scenarios that occurred in her home, tongue-in-cheek style! What a great way to start out the retreat and break the ice regarding all the taboos that go on in each person’s household, but no one wants to dare bring the topics up! Well, this lively comic did, and we cheered her on endlessly!

I left this retreat saying goodbye to friends old and new. Learning more about myself and learning more about other miscellaneous topics such as social media! But I mostly reinforced that I love to come together with a group of Moms who understand the pressures of parenting and want to help each other through it as well as spend time remembering who WE are as people, as individuals, and not just someone’s wife or mother!

I came home to a Parenting Workshop to go to at my son’s school the very next day where we really got into a hot debate about parenting and homework issues. Some Moms literally couldn’t understand why homework wasn’t “fun” in every household. Other’s of us moaned in agony just thinking about doing homework with our child. I exclaimed that I had such a horrendous year with my son last year that just THINKING of homework this year gave me post traumatic stress disorder symptoms! This one Mom shot back, “Well, then you’re just doing something wrong.” It was a good thing that the social worker moderating the group knew of my struggles last year and effectively put this other Mom in her place. Still and all, I came out of this workshop empowered and ready to take on the task of parenting in a way only I know is effective with my child!

The NY chapter of Motherhood Later Than Sooner will soon try to gather interested parents into support groups with a highly educated facilitator. I was at a group this facilitator ran and found it filled with energy and bonding where we all wanted to jump into the conversation at once! It was invigorating! I left feeling better about myself than when I first arrived! Maybe you’d like to give a support group a try? And if one isn’t a good fit, move on to another. As for me, I am looking forward to participating in the NY chapter support group and see how it turns out! As they say, you can always learn something new every day!

Grandparent at 50??

Every once in a while I go on to Facebook to catch up with the happenings of friends near and far. Invariably, I get one of those silly quizzes that pop up. What kind of dog are you? What does your name mean in Japanese? Just as invariably I take a quiz or two if I have the inclination and the time. I found out, incidentally, that my name in Japanese means, “Love Child.” Well, okay, whatever. At least it doesn’t mean, “Burning Sword.”

In any event, I received a quiz from a newly aquatinted friend titled,”Questions About Me.” It was a rather lengthy questionnaire, but after reading the questions and responses my friend had put down, I decided to take the time to answer the questions myself and pass the quiz back to her.

Many of the questions were rather benign, however I almost choked when I read one of the questions two-thirds into the questionnaire. “Would you like to be a grandparent at age 50?” AGE 50??!! I’m 46!! My son is 6!! That would mean that my son would have to impregnate some girl at age 10!!!! NO, I don’t want to be a grandparent at age 50!!! But this got me to thinking. When WOULD I want to be a grandparent?

If I had my son at age 40, and statistics and trends are pointing to later in life marriages and births, what age will I reasonably be a grandmother? I have every hope that my son will attend college. And I would be even more grateful should he decide to go to graduate school or go on to get a professional degree. Would he marry at 25? 30? 35?

My father was an “older” parent and had the joy of seeing my son born at age 86. He had three beautiful years watching my son through his baby and toddler years. And for some unknown reason, even though my father was severely hard of hearing, it didn’t matter one lick to my son nor to my father that they didn’t understand one another. They communicated in a higher form called love.

I think my father and my son had a bond that has continued to transcend his demise. And my son continues to reflect on him with fondness and yearnings of love. I would hope that my son chose to have children at a slightly younger age than me. It would give me great pleasure to see my grandchildren grow for at least a decade! I could do a lot of “spoiling” in a decade!! (And, yes, I know that only food gets spoiled...but you get my drift!)

But, if my son has a child or children later in his life, as I did, perhaps I, too, could capture a bond of love that would transcend the corporeal. That would make me immensely happy too. Side by side with my grandchild, bringing me a leaf or a stone found on the ground and presented as a gift. Through love that is boundless. Sometime the innocence of the young and the old, brought together, can mean more than spending years trying to establish a relationship with a relative you have a difficult time getting along with.

Well, I have a “few” more years before I need to worry about becoming a grandparent. And incidentally, anyone who draws up a questionnaire with a question such as this, must be, oh, say, 20?

The Loveliness of “Only”

I recently saw a posting on a mothering website. A question was posed to those who had “only” children. The author of the post wanted to know whether the children were well adjusted and whether the Moms felt “complete” with only one child. The woman who posed this query recently found out that she would be unable to have any more children and was worried that her daughter would grow up feeling “deprived” of the experience of having siblings and whether only child families felt “complete.”

The reason I homed in on this post is because not only do I have an “only” child, I am one. I also pondered and am self-predicting that there are many “older” Moms out there who also have “onlies” and feel perfectly “complete” with this choice. In fact, all of the weekly bloggers for Motherhood Later Than Sooner have “only” children!

So why is it that society puts a label and needs an explanation for only children families. In fact, I cannot tell you how many times my own Mother-in-Law has made comments about my son, ending with the phrase, “Well, after all, he’s an only child, so he’s spoiled.” The word “spoiled” refers to food, not children. And it certainly is not a type of behavior, as my Mother-in-Law repeatedly implies. What is so wrong about being an “only?” And conversely, what are the attributes of having an only child.

I would like to start with my own wonderful scenario, which occurred last week. My son lost his first tooth! When I found out, I quickly went to a website that had male as well as female Tooth Fairy selections. I downloaded and printed out the page of Tooth Fairies and showed them to my son so that he could chose which Tooth Fairy he wanted to come and take his tooth. Then we e-mailed this Tooth Fairy (ie. Daddy) because my son had quite a few questions to ask his Tooth Fairy. I also downloaded a certificate that I printed on our color printer, on cardstock, which was waiting for him when he woke up. Throughout all of this, I kept thinking, how wonderful for both of us to totally immerse ourselves in this milestone event and make it as magical and as wonderful as it should be! If I had more than one child, I never would have been able to embrace this event in the same way! And it has nothing to do about money, just time. Incidentally, my best friend's little girl lost her first tooth the same day as my son. She posted something on Facebook that said, "The baby is screaming and I'm out of singles so the Tooth Fairy is bringing glitter glue tonight." When I read that, I thought to myself, how fortunate....how fortunate for us that my son is an only child.

I could list a hundred other examples of how fortunate only children are. And a hundred famous people who were only children, throughout history. I think what it boils down to, though, is the type of parenting a child gets, whether in a ten child household or a household with one, what types of individual temperaments each of the children has and how theirs “fit” within the household “mix.” And also for a child to feel loved, whether number ten or an only.

I anticipate that along with the growing numbers of “older” parents that arise, as time progresses, the number of only child families will grow in number as well. I welcome seeing this societal change as the years pass. Then maybe the labels such as “spoiled” will not only be a misnomer, they will be a thing of the past.
I came upon this fable written by Lokman, an ancient Ethiopian sage:

A hare, upon meeting a lioness one day, said reproachfully: “I have always a great number of children while you have only one now and then.” The lioness replied, “That is true, but my one child is a lion.”

And, in fact, so is mine.

Halloween Horror

My son’s FAVORITE time of the year is not his birthday, not the winter holidays, it’s Halloween. Now, I find this quite odd because this is not the time of year my son enjoys most because of the obvious - candy! No, my interesting son has no interest in candy of any type, flavor or taste. My son hates ALL sweets, even juice.

So if it’s not the candy that brings such excitement to my son, there really is only one option left. My son loves to dress up in costumes and pretend play! He has been doing this since he was two years old, and we have had quite the collection of costumes! Batman, Superman, Spiderman, pirate, cowboy, safari hunter, handyman! But, as the years went by and the costumes became too small, his interest in costumes diminished for all except one: Spiderman!

I think my son has been Spiderman at Halloween for three years in a row now! I even went out and bought the black (“dark”) Spiderman costume as well as the red and blue one last year, because my son would then have a choice, but his choice flip-flopped just about every hour, if not day! So, he ended up wearing both! One for a special event, and the other one to Trick-or-Treat in. So, Spiderman it has always been. Until this year.

My son is now 6. And I was pretty certain that he would want to be a Spiderman of one type or another again this year. Just to be on the safe side though, I asked him what he wanted to be for Halloween since all of the Halloween signs and displays are already up. His response: A Power Ranger. Well, okay, a Power Ranger works for me. So we pulled up some Power Ranger costumes on the computer so that he could show me which one he liked the best, since there are (I think) six different color Power Rangers. As we were scrolling up and down, I was certain he would want to be the green power ranger, since green is his favorite color. Wrong. Again. He wanted to be a RED Power Ranger because according to my son, the red Power Ranger is the one who is the most powerful. Okay, fine. I just should have ordered the costume online right then and there and been done with it. But no, I decided to send my son and husband on a mission. To buy the red Power Ranger costume at our local party store because the weekly flyer was having a sale on costumes that week. Mark this one as ONE BIG, HUGE MISTAKE!!!

Later that day, my son came running into the house, my husband behind him, with plastic chains across his body and hooks with fake dried blood painted on them hanging off the chains. My son looked elated! My husband looked elated! I looked horrified! My son ran upstairs, chains jingling. When I asked my husband what my son had on, he said part of his Halloween costume. I asked why a Power Ranger costume would have such hideous chains and hooks with it. My husband replied,”It’s not a Power Ranger costume! It’s a Ghost Rider costume! Now for those of you, like me, who are not exactly sure what a Ghost Rider costume is, it is a motorcycle jacket and hat, with a mask depicting a partially decomposing face, accented with these lovely chains I mentioned. Well, I can’t print what I ACTUALLY said to my husband, but it falls along the lines of, “Are you crazy??!! Do you REALLY think that this is an appropriate Halloween costume for a SIX YEAR OLD??!! The mask alone is going to scare his friends!! And their parents!!” My husband made some half nonsensical remark such as, “Oh, it’s just a costume!” And ran up to see my son.

Two days later, I went back to the store where the Ghost Rider costume came from and exchanged it for the red Power Ranger costume. Yes, my son will be angry with me, my husband won’t understand me, but I can at least be able to say that I was the responsible parent. Someone in this family has to be one, it might as well be me. And it usually is.

100% REAL Boy!

My six year old is such a boy. A REAL boy! A play in the mud, climb a tree, dig a trench boy! Which is not to say that nice, quiet, sit and read boys AREN’T real boys. They are most certainly “real” boys too! But my boy is a BOY! A get down and dirty (thank you, Oxyclean Laundry spray!) boy! So it is of no surprise that my son came home yesterday with (and my “boy” husband bought for him) new pets: Hermit Crabs!!!

I realized my son was a “real” boy around age two. Up until then, I had bought my son “gender neutral” toys such as building blocks, shape sorters, farms and farm animals, a variety of animal theme books. But one day, we went to a playdate at a friend’s house. This friend of mine has two boys, one my son’s age and the other a couple year’s older. And scattered all around my friend’s playroom were trucks! And cars! And trains! All toys my son had never seen, let alone played with before!! At that moment, I knew that there most definitely is a gene in boys for preferred play with trucks, cars and trains! My son made a bee-line right to the biggest truck he saw and started pushing it all around, making vrooming sounds as he went! How did he know to do this? Where did he learn to play with the trucks and cars this way?! The only explanation I could rationally come up with was that it was in his genes!

My son was then obsessed with trucks, cars and trains! Every truck he saw while we drove, he would call out, “twuck!!” as if he had never seen one before! So the nice, “gender neutral” toys slowly were replaced with trucks and cars of every size. And along with that, another obsession emerged: Trains. Particularly “Thomas the Train”, trains! At one point we probably had close to 30 Thomas trains, and wooden tracks, bridges, tunnels, and every sort of accessory one could imagine for these trains! We even had just about every Thomas DVD ever produced! And every day, after I picked my son up from daycare and fed him, we had to put in a Thomas DVD and build a track system so that as many trains as we had at the time could all caravan behind Thomas! But alas, this extremely expensive train obsession came to an end by the time my son turned four. I refuse to throw away hundreds of dollars worth of wooden trains and tracks, so they are packed up and ready for a special friend, when her baby’s train gene emerges and he wants to play with trains!

Then, around the time my son turned five, we were digging in our garden to plant a flower, when my son spotted an earthworm! A big, fat, pink earthworm! No more than 5 minutes had gone by when, like the whirlwind my son is, he ran inside the house, got a plastic container, put dirt in the container, and in went the earthworm...named, “Wormy.” I knew right then I was doomed. My REAL boy was blossoming into now 100% REAL boy! And what does a mother of a REAL boy to do than to “adopt” a garden worm? Thankfully we were going on vacation ten days later and my son’s pre-K teacher agreed to “watch” Wormy while we were away. Even better, my son forgot about Wormy after we returned, so his teacher let it go free in the dirt outside without my son even aware.

From there my son spent months begging for a “pet” snake. I negotiated and bought him an earthworm hatchery kit. I tried to convince him that they were “small snakes.” But eventually we had to let them go free in the garden. Then we bought caterpillars and watched them hatch into butterflies! We kept them and fed them fresh fruit, but you could tell that they wanted to fly free, so we watched them go! Next my son became obsessed with lizards and geckos and wanted one of them as a pet! Both my husband (thankfully) and I vetoed both of those creatures.

Well, now we have new pets:“Hot Rod” and “Speedy” (neither of them moves much, but okay, they can think they are racers!). And although I adamantly put my foot down that I would NOT care for these creeping, crawling things, I know that their care will ultimately fall to my domain of care. Oh, and did I mention that we already have two dogs and two fish? And guess who takes care of those?? Hmm??