Thursday, May 31, 2007

First comes love then comes, no, not marriage, but the bridal shower.

Having been a bride myself, I have to admit that a wedding shower for a new bride is like Christmas morning or a birthday party to a 5 year old. First we make a list, and then we check it twice, or five or six times. Next we tell everyone what we asked for, in hopes that if we’re good enough we’ll get everything we desire. Lastly, our family invites more family and friends for a gathering to eat cake and watch us open gifts.

Sounds like fun. Of course it’s fun if you’re the lucky lady opening gift after gift, receiving everything you ever wanted and more. But, what about the family and friends? Sure it’s exciting to watch someone open a blender, and an iron, and of course new sheets. But, sometime after opening the third set of dishes the excitement wears off and boredom tends to set in. Much like a bunch 5 year olds at their best friend’s birthday party, women are easily lead a strayed by one another. I guess this is why bridal shower games were invented.

Having attended 7 bridal showers in the last year, I’ve played my fair share of bridal bingo, bride trivia, and honeymoon ramblings. But one of the activities I find most entertaining is the advice that guests are asked to bestow to the bride to be. Here are my top five

5. Never let you husband use these four letter words: Dust, cook, and work.

4. Never go to bed angry. Stay up and plot revenge.

3. Don’t withhold sex. You’re only punishing yourself.

2. Don’t have three kids in two years
(Why didn’t anyone share this with me at my shower?)

(And my personal favorite from a mother of a bride)
1. Just remember when the going gets though that it was your father that gave you away,
I wanted to keep you.

Such words of wisdom. Offered by women who’ve been there and done that. And who better to offer such valuable advice, like number 4, than those seasoned brides, who have been there more than once! Like I said, put 50 women in a room together, and some of us are bound to revert to our inner child.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

The Four Letter Word No Mother Wants To Hear...

Uh-Oh!

Like many parents, just hearing the word “Uh-oh” sends alarm bells ringing in my head and makes every muscle in my body cringe. Especially, if it comes out of one of my boys’ mouths, you know the ones, The General and The Tank.

Reminiscent are the days that my two cohorts flooded my downstairs bath after continually flushing the potty while depositing an entire roll of toilet paper, or the day when my little General lathered himself with a full tube of Destin, because he needed lotion for his dry skin, or the day when the Tank decided to stoke the fire with his legos. All incidents preceded the word “Uh-oh.”

With three toddlers under one roof, not many days pass without some kind of catastrophe, which leads to “uh-oh.” So, why would today be any different? I was in the kitchen washing dishes when I heard one of my mischievous off-spring utter, “Uh-oh!” from the bathroom. I just bowed my head and said a quick prayer, not for me, but for him. Then I’d headed to the bathroom to see what the damage was.

When I opened the door, the boy before me didn’t look like my usual grinning son. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, waiting to be plowed over with punishment. Looking at him I noticed that the Tank’s arms were soaked up to his elbow and the toilet next to him no longer had a seat on it.

In the sternest voice I could muster up, I asked, “What happened?”

Instantly my son started crying and whimpered, “the toilet bit me!”

I dried the tears from my son’s face then proceeded to the floor, when the phone rang. It was my Dad. So naturally I shared the mishap, in hopes to get some parental guidance and support. Instead, I got an earful of laughter and a brief sentiment from my father, “Ah, payback for all the rotten things that you kids did to your mother and me when you were little!”

Yes, “Uh-oh” indeed.

Uh-oh!

Like many parents, just hearing the word “Uh-oh” sends alarm bells ringing in my head and makes every muscle in my body cringe. Especially, if it comes out of one of my boys’ mouths, you know the ones, The General and The Tank.

Reminiscent are the days that my two cohorts flooded my downstairs bath after continually flushing the potty while depositing an entire roll of toilet paper, or the day when my little General lathered himself with a full tube of Destin, because he needed lotion for his dry skin, or the day when the Tank decided to stoke the fire with his legos. All incidents preceded the word “Uh-oh.”

With three toddlers under one roof, not many days pass without some kind of catastrophe, which leads to “uh-oh.” So, why would today be any different? I was in the kitchen washing dishes when I heard one of my mischievous off-spring utter, “Uh-oh!” from the bathroom. I just bowed my head and said a quick prayer, not for me, but for him. Then I’d headed to the bathroom to see what the damage was.

When I opened the door, the boy before me didn’t look like my usual grinning son. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, waiting to be plowed over with punishment. Looking at him I noticed that the Tank’s arms were soaked up to his elbow and the toilet next to him no longer had a seat on it.

In the sternest voice I could muster up, I asked, “What happened?”

Instantly my son started crying and whimpered, “the toilet bit me!”

I dried the tears from my son’s face then proceeded to the floor, when the phone rang. It was my Dad. So naturally I shared the mishap, in hopes to get some parental guidance and support. Instead, I got an earful of laughter and a brief sentiment from my father, “Ah, payback for all the rotten things that you kids did to your mother and me when you were little!”

Yes, “Uh-oh” indeed.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Who ever said silence is golden , was never a mother!


Long awaited and almost never present are those few precious moments that any mother desires, the minutes of complete silence and contentment in our home. But as my own mother would say, "be careful what you wish for."

Recently, I was feverishly attempting to mop my boys' goopy blue breakfast yogurt off the kitchen floor. But, my two sons, The General and The Tank, kept tracking their grimy foot prints over it as they re-enacted battle scenes from Narnia. Deafeningly arguing over who would wear the knight suit of armor and hold the sword, that Santa gave to my little General, to fight the "mean witch."

After several minutes, my pleading for them to quiet down and stay in the family room quickly turned in to threatening. And when my carefully chosen words of, "Get off the floor or else," didn't work, I did what any mother would shamefully do to keep her sanity. I bribed my children with a movie.

I marched The General and The Tank up to my room to watch a movie. I got them all set up, put Narnia- The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe on for the 100th time! Then, I left them quietly sitting on my bed, mesmerized by the scenes unfolding before them. I figured this would at least buy me ten minutes of peace before they would come looking for me to sit and watch the movie with them.

Back downstairs I went to finish washing the floor; I was down there for maybe a total of seven minutes. I didn't hear a peep the entire time. No screaming and no loud thuds. I was impressed. I even debated making myself a cup of tea before going to check on my two angels.

Instead, I put the mop away and headed up stairs. As I got closer to my room, I could hear the muffled giggles of a mischievous toddle saying, "Yummmm." I open the door.

There stood the General, soaked with a two gallon jug from my humidifier over his brother's head, pushing the button in that releases water; and the Tank was just parked on my carpet like a wet dog with his mouth wide open at a water spicket trying to catch the ever flowing water.

Before I could even think, I asked, "What are you doing? Are you crazy?" Dumbfounded the General answered, "No Mommy, just thirsty."

After about a minute of reprimand, I realized they were just tuning me out. A trait they inherited from their father. With nothing more to say, I stripped the boys of their sopping clothes, cleaned up the flood in my room, and shuffled them downstairs to return to their boisterous play.

As the room filled with silly laughter, I realized that this is what is truly golden.

Friday, May 18, 2007

Why you should practice what you preach...

As a mother, I pride myself in teaching my children all the valuable lessons they need to lead a happy and healthy life. For example, I tell them, "Look both ways before you cross the street," or "your dinner forking is meant for poking your food, not your brother." I try to exemplify all the messages that I preach into my children's seemingly deaf ears, so that someday they could in turn pass these along to others. But, I had no idea that this day would come so soon for my three year old son.

The other night, my husband had our financial advisor over, while I was at work. My husband told my son to play quietly so he could sit and talk to Mr. Advisor at the table. Being as obedient as any three year old could, he sat on the floor right next to his daddy and amused himself with his dump truck, occasionally interrupting to engage himself in his father's conversation.

Mr. Advisor, trying to appease my little guy with some small talk, said, "I like your UCONN suit that you have on. Are you going to play basketball for UCONN someday?"

My toddler looked up to the man and simply replied, "No, I can't."

Mr. Advisor asked, "Why not?"

My son continued, "I can't play basketball, because Mommy broke my basketball."

My other half quickly chimed in, "What? Mommy didn't break your ball."

Fustrated, my son said, "Yes she did, Mommy ran my Dora basketball over with her car and popped it!"

Hubby to my resue, "Well, if you put your toys away that wouldn't happen."

Without missing a beat my little instructor stood up, pointed his finger and retorted, "You know, you're suppose to watch where you're going when you're driving."

When my husband told me the story when I got home from work that night, I couldn't decide if I wanted to laugh or shrivel up with embarrassment. After all, I did quite literally put a hole in my child's chance at becoming Jim Calhoun's next star player. But, before I could decide how I felt, my husband looked me square in the eye, smiled and said, "And you think nobody ever listens to you."

I am proud that I have such witty children and I am pleased to know that not all of what I say falls upon deaf ears. I guess that I can only hope when my children are able to drive that they do as I say and not as I do.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Welcome to the Putnam Patch!

That's right folks you've just entered the Putnam Patch, where chaos sprouts as fast as the lil' pumpkins around here. Come back for your daily dose of parenting humor where mom's always write!