That One Mom

Christmas Eve Eve poem..a must read

2011-12-23T11:59:00.001-06:00

Twas the night before the night before Christmas, and all through the house
All the creatures are stirring, even that mouse.
The stockings are not yet hung but Mama don't care,

She hopes that quiet soon will be here.

The children are all hopped up and won't go to bed,
While visions of drums and Zhu Zhu pets dance in their heads.
Mama is in sweats starting a nightcap,
To settle her brain to wrap all the crap.

Finally they were all asleep and Mama heard a clatter,
Mama sprang up to see what was the matter.
Away to the window she flew like a flash,
Spilled all the Tuaca she had in her glass.

When, what to her tipsy eyes should appear,
But a huge blow up sleigh, and eight tiny plastic reindeer.

With a fat old guy, so cheery and quick,
She knew in a moment it must be a trick.
She shook her head to clear the buzzy haze,
When loudly he whistled, and shouted, and called out some names!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

And then, in a twinkling, she heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
Wondering if her insurance was current she turned around,
And sure enough down the chimney he came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all dirty with ashes and soot.
A bundle of something he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a home invader, just carrying a pack.

He was chubby and plump, a fat tall jolly elf,
And Mama laughed when she saw him, in spite of herself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
He showed his ID, she had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
While Mama poured another cocktail with a smirk.
He wrapped all the presents and tied all the bows,
And giving a fist bump to Mama, up the chimney he rose!

He blew back up his sleigh, and gave a shout,
While Mama tried to figure out what this was all about.
She heard him exclaim, as he flew out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to Mama a good-night!"

Hot and NOT (a compilation) - Week III

2011-12-16T20:39:00.000-06:00

Hot and Not:

Timothy Richard "Tim" Tebow

Apparently this guy is HOT. Since I have not heard of him before this week, he's on my radar. Yes, that's true - I watch the debates, and CNN, as well as ESPN when my teenage son forgets to change the channel and I cannot find the remote. He prays on the sidelines before a football game and Rick Perry wants to be him. I have also an unusual number of FB friend statuses referencing him. I felt it necessary enough to do some research.
So this guy is not that hot at throwing a football (or at least having it caught), or with the ladies in "that way" since he is a virgin Christian (but does an unusual amount of shirtless photo shoots). He is hot because he wears his religion on his sleeve, and is a good role model. NOT hot because I have seen numerous role models before and am a little skittish about calling a human one easily.
Is Tim Tebow hot? I guess it is determined on what you feel is HOT. Flash in the pan? - jury is still out.

Santa.

If you read my last post - and you ask my youngest daughter - NOT hot. However for most people, Santa is hot. He helps parents get things done, without fight, over the holiday season. Threatening is everything in the Santa celebrating crowd. I get it, I've used it, it is hot when you can, not hot when you can't. Frankly, I think we have elevated Santa to too HOT for my liking. After all, he may be magical like the Tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny, but is he really? When is too much too much? I received my answer this week, from a four-year old. Santa is too much. He is also hot and not, elevated to rockstar status, just to have him fall at the non-Santa believing age. The Holidays (and yes I say "The Holidays" because I have sensitivity to those that do not celebrate a tree, St. Nick and midnight mass) is about many things, most of all, family. Family is HOT.

Primary Presidential Debates.

Again, Hot and Not. Hot because I'd like to see who may be the President, not because I am afraid who may be nominated. I am not a "party voter" I am fiscally-ish conservative and socially liberal (ok - slightly socailly Über-Liberal). I do not think that spending more money than we have as a country is any different than spending more money than we have as a family. Do we sometimes - sure. Should we? No. when we do we have to face consequences, not hot. Definitely not hot, but not not hot, because it gets us back on track and reminds us that material things are not life, that there are much more important things. We also raise our children to be more socially aware, that when we may not see groups as any different than us in the family setting that others do and we should take a stand.
Although the recent Republican debates I see as a mish-mash of hatred spewing finger pointing waste of time but still worth the watch happenings. I want to see who may very well be the next President of the United States. Hot, not so much, Not hot - well with over 10M participants in actual watching or tweeting or FB in a given two hour debate - I'd say for any educated person it is definitely hot. Let's just be happy this is not 2015 - because it is all on the table potentially. All that is Holy in Heaven - help us - because it will be ugly.

~That One Mom

Cris Cringle Creeps

2011-12-15T14:31:00.001-06:00

(ok - I know Kris Kringle starts with K's but it just didn't have the same punch)

My youngest daughter who is four cannot stand Santa. She was less than a month old the first time we put her in his arms, and she was crying. Every year we go to the same Breakfast with Santa where we know "Santa" and she runs and screams when she sees him.

Last week she would not get ready for preschool. Since she only goes two hours a day twice a week, she is usually begging to go to leave before it is time. This day however she complained of a stomachache until I offered her a cookie and then switched it to "cough and sneezing". She threw a fit when trying to get her ready until I called time and got down to figure out the problem.

"I HATE Santa"

What child "hates" Santa? (and for the record - "hate" is a bad word in this house, so she really had to mean it) Well, my child does.

I thought about making her face her fears for about a split second before we sat down to cuddle and I called school to tell them she wasn't coming.

I let it go until last night, when my oldest daughter was belting out "Santa Clause is Coming to Town" over and over.

"You better watch out"?

"You better not cry"?

"He sees you when you're sleeping and knows when you're awake"?

Listening to the words I was suddenly creeped out by the whole Santa thing. Who made up this song? Some 1950's housewife that wanted her child to go to bed? (actually it was two dudes in 1934 thank you Wikipedia, again)

I have decided that if my daughter doesn't like Santa - she doesn't have to. I have told her she doesn't have to go near him and I am putting a halt on anyone saying "you better be good, Santa's watching" (seriously - that is so disturbing).

Can you imagine when she is 8, 9, 10 and finds out that there is NO SANTA and her whole family was just tormenting her for no reason?

I have PLENTY of opportunities to screw up my kids, some chubby guy in a red suit hiding his creepy watching you when you sleep face behind a beard is not taking what is my Mother given RIGHT.

My daughter hates Santa. There is nothing I can do about it. History has made this guy into some sort of childhood heavy to keep children behaving the month of December while Mom and Dad run around like maniacs trying to please everyone and keep up tradition and pretend that we love the holidays even though we are stressed out of our minds. I can't tell her that there is no Santa because I don't want her to be "THAT" kid so I'll be

~That One Mom

HOT and NOT - Week II

2011-12-09T12:37:00.001-06:00

Hot:

Drum Pads.

My beautifully gifted almost-6-year-old has been begging for a drum set. Mommy starts to twitch and mumble at the thought of banging drums. Enter solution: an electronic drum pad. Hooks up to iPod so she can bang along to Selena Gomez all day and the best, made for Mommy part? HEADPHONES WITH VOLUME LIMITS!

Chemo and Cowboy Boots.

Sounds like I have lost it doesn't it? Well let me tell you about this amazing woman I met who had a double mastectomy two years ago and was diagnosed with breast cancer again. She completed her last round of chemo Tuesday and I saw her last night, tough as ever, smile on her face, fedora on her head, and bright red cowboy boots. Those boots have the same meaning to cancer as her middle finger, and I adore her.

Online Christmas Shopping.

I do not set foot into a store for Christmas gifts, I haven't for almost 5 years. Not a foot. I will go to grab wrapping paper if I have to, but everything for everyone comes delivered directly to my door. I figure I am boosting the economy by giving UPS/FEDEX/USPS business and everyone else a break from one more frantic mother. Oh, and hunting down that one toy that your child did not put on a Christmas list - but told Santa was alllllll they wanted? Hello Amazon overnight delivery.

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NOT Hot:

I only have one this week -

Brokeback Christian.

You knew this was coming. Rick Perry. Here is what I have to say to you and your new ad about "Obama's Holy War" and the rest of the hate spewing you managed in 30 seconds: PLEASE win the primary nomination. PLEASE. I can't get enough of you. I thought your commercial was an SNL skit and when I found out it wasn't, I am BEGGING conservatives to make you their nominee. Oh, and if it isn't too much to ask - will you choose Michele Bachman as your VP? If I cannot pray the dumbass away, at least I can get rid of you both at once. (oh, and ps - I think your stylist is gay)

~That One Mom

The Little Pink Soldier

2011-12-07T10:17:00.001-06:00

Last night at Daisies (Girl Scouts) we were working on our "Pink - Make the World a Better Place" petal. We decided to have the 10 girls make holiday cards for the VA Hospital patients.

I brought a white board to write down all the words that the girls would need to create their cards. The told me to write Merry Christmas, Soldiers, Veterans, Brave, Happy New Year, Sick, Ornament and Thank You.

Everyone got busy on their cards and all was quiet. For about 30 seconds. Then the questions and statements started. Once it started, it lasted quite a while.

"Um, do the soldier veterans have guns?"

"Does Santa go to the hopital too?"

"My uncle was in the hospital, but he doesn't have a gun"

"I want mine to go to a soldier with no leg"

"WHAT!? they don't have legs???"

"Some of them don't my dad said that soldiers are brave and some don't have legs"

"Did you know that GIRLS can be soldiers too"

"No they can't"

"UH-HUH yes they can too"

Then they all, all 10, turn and look directly at me. I was a little rattled at how to answer these sensitive questions. I mean these are 5 and 6 year old girls and war is a pretty scary thing.

They listened (mostly) as I explained that yes, soldiers sometimes had guns to protect themselves just like police officers. I told them that soldiers protected our country and when they said the Pledge of Allegiance, that it was because of our veterans that we can say "with liberty and justice for all". (No way was I touching freedom with this group). That yes, some of them were badly hurt while at war and some were missing an important part but they were brave and were at the hospital so the doctors could take care of them. Yes, girls are soldiers too, they are also doctors and police officers and firefighters and build buildings and fly planes.

Whew! I did it. Back to coloring. These cards were fantastic. The girls were coloring and gluing and stickering and glittering.

We had a stack of beautiful cards when they were finished and I promised to drop them off Thursday to the veterans. We cleaned up and started the task of putting on everyone's coats.

Normal mass chaos ensued.

Through all the craziness I hear this little voice behind me call my name. I turn to see one of my little Daisies in her pink coat, pink hat, pink gloves with a pink backpack on her back. She looks at me and says quietly:

"I am going to be a soldier."

All I could do is give her a hug. She may very well be.

~That One Mom

The Great Princess Debate

2011-12-02T13:51:00.001-06:00

I just assume that I am amazing and that every one agrees with me and if they do not - well something must be wrong with them. To each their own, but seriously - mine is better. I just have gone about life with the proverbial fingers in my ears, hearing but not really listening to the dull hum around me.

Until I had daughters. When I found out that I was having a girl when my son was 10 I bought everything pink. EVERYTHING.

That's not really true there were some purple things.

After finding out I was having a second daughter 18 months behind the first I was relieved. I had no idea what a little boy was going to wear. I had ONE sleeper that was white, with a bunny on it. Even though my husband is color-blind I didn't think I could pull off dressing little guy in pink since the girls have two older brothers. The stork was good to me.

On it goes the last almost 6 years with the dolls, dress up clothes, tiaras, and Barbies. LOTS of Barbies. Animal print is our friend. I did add some blue finally to the mix. Tiffany blue.

Here and there some parents that I respect just flat out said that they would never could never encourage their daughters to be princesses. They were somewhat horrified by all things princess. I thought maybe they had some terrible glitter incident when they were younger they were repressing.

Then came the book. And articles. And bloggers. And talk shows. I hate it when people think I am wrong and then they have a source to quote. It spread like wildfire. Everyone was talking about it. It was degrading, sexist, limiting and anti-feminist. They didn't say exactly those words, but when I pulled my fingers out of my ears finally that is what I heard.

PRINCESSES ARE BAD.

I had to sit down. I read the articles, I tried to listen. Really I did. I was definitely taken aback since I had themed my oldest daughter's birthday party as High Tea. FOR SOON-TO-BE PRINCESS KATE. Oh, no. What was I doing to my girls?

I wasn't "doing" anything to them. So they dressed in ball gowns. My youngest one actually had to get stitches after falling on a plastic - gasp - Cinderella slipper. Clearly she is one tough princess since nary a tear was shed while she was strapped down and they sewed up her little cheek. Would it have been better if she had fallen off of her John Deer truck and hurt herself? How about if she was Occupying Wall Street? And since we are getting political (oh we weren't?) Republicans have Tea Parties too.

They are aware that they are not going to BE princesses because they wear the clothes. I am not going to be a size 4 since I wear double Spanx. But we can dream. Off comes the clothes (and/or the Spanx) and we are back to our normal lives. My girls do not live in a fairytale, they live in the real world with fabulous play clothes.

My girls are fine, actually - my girls are FANTASTIC. They can be princesses all day if they want. For Halloween they chose to be Bat Girl and a Pirate...with sparkles.

Maybe the difference is that I speak to my children, have conversations with them. They are aware, at 4 & 5.5 what is expected of them, what we as a family believe in and that they have to work hard, tell the truth, use their manners and be respectful.

If they do all that in a tiara and you don't like it - you may not want your children to play with mine. They may come home covered in glitter and and imaginary crumpet crumbs, and then you would quote the book and then we would argue and it would be an ugly mess.

A Royal Mess.

~That One Mom

What's HOT, What's NOT - Week I

2011-12-02T10:26:00.000-06:00

Hot:

Spray Paint.

That right, spray paint.

This week I have used the new latex spray paint to turn an ugly desk into a white gleaming beauty in 2 hours.

Light reflective silver paint to turn old berry stems into magnificent yule creations.

And, since the wind was blowing and I never dress properly for projects, I now have black boots with a sparkly silver dip-dye look.

Zach Wahls.

Young man that anyone would be proud to call son. Not only is he well spoken and mature he also believes that taking a stand for what he believes in is his responsibility.

Bettie.

Newest member of the family. Bettie the brindle was so adorable that C & T drove 4 hours to get her. We are so happy to have her little pug mug.

Chess.

Well chess isn't all that "hot" but it is when your 8 year old nephew plays it.

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NOT HOT

Herman Cain.

Seriously. Really? Again?

I mean allegedly. But when exactly was the last time a politician was accused of sexual misconduct and it WASN'T true? hmm? Geesh-just wait until you are in the Oval Office. Secret Service make the best wing-men.

Vasovagal Syncope.

Particularly not hot. This is when your strong, athletic and healthy son passes out at the Thanksgiving table and you get to call 911. Like I said - not hot. Not cool.

It also happens to be commonly known by pretty much every single person I have come into contact with in the last 5 days.

I have never heard of it.

Hope I never do again.

Inflatable Christmas Decorations.

These should be banned. They drive me insane. I do all my errands during the day so all I see, house after house are dead Santas, Snowmen, and the worst - uninflated Mary lying over Baby Jesus smothering him.

It is scary and it is wrong. Take them down.

There you have it. Once a week I will tell you what I like and what I don't. If I offend, comment - I love a good debate. I hope you enjoyed, learned a little and at least smiled once or twice. I know I had fun.

~That One Mom

That first one.

2011-11-30T12:48:00.001-06:00

Hours. That is how long I have been staring at this screen. Not all today, but a couple to many minutes a week. What do I write? What do people care about? What will make me draw in viewers? What is my hook? So I thought, what is most important to me? Easy - that's me. So here it goes.

I am not "THAT Mom".
You know the one. Perfectly manicured, always clean, airy demeanor. Nothing rattles her, or wrinkles her for that matter. Her children must be robots...I mean, who ACTS like that? Oh, and where did she get those matching outfits and the bows so straight? She must have live in help. Stylist. Wine cellar. On-call pharmacist.

No, I am "That One Mom".
Frazzled. Now that is an interesting word to start out with in my very first blog. First thing that popped into my head. So let's look it up....

fraz·zle

[fraz-uhl] -zled, -zling, noun

verb

1. to wear to threads or shreds; fray.

2. to weary; tire out.

noun

3. the state of being frazzled or worn-out.

4. a remnant; shred.

Yes, that's it. Frazzled. I am frayed. Like that shoelace on your child's sneaker that you keep meaning to cut down. Lots of little threads hanging, together but just flopping around every which way. They drag on the wet ground. Don't accidentally pull it the wrong way through the hole, now you'll never get it back in.

Yes, frayed.

However I do not think that frayed is so bad. I can say no. I can do less. I do not have to be who I am: mother, wife, daughter, sister, aunt, friend. All those little hanging threads at the end of my psyche are important to me.

I have to color code my calendars, screen my calls, make lists...forgive myself when I forget.

Wrinkled clothes, crooked bows, gum in the dog's fur?

Hey at least I started recycling.

Plus, God invented doors and ponytails for a reason - to hide the mess.

No, I am not "THAT Mom"

I am "That One Mom".

That imperfect, opinionated, coffee fueled, slightly loud, sometimes funny one - with ponytail.

Welcome.