Five Question Friday: March 4th, 2011

1. Have you ever forgotten your child in a store or at school?

No. But I have left my child with someone (my sister, husband, et cetera), forgotten that my child was no longer in the van with me, and had a mini-heart-attack when I've turned to say something to them and realized that they weren't there!

2. Where did you go on your very first date? (Like...first first, not first with your spouse or current significant other!)

I went to Lilliput (a miniature golf course) with a beautiful boy when we were in the 5th grade. Afterwards, we took a walk in my backyard holding hands and talking about our favorite songs (his was Paperback Writer by the Beatles) and then we went inside and watched Crocodile Dundee with my little sisters. I got really mad at my middle sister because she insisted on sitting in his lap (he really was cute, and my sister knew that she was just young enough to get away with it-she's no dummy!)

3. What's your "silly" fear? (We're not talking water and heights.)

White spiders. A spider of any other color can crawl on my face for all I care...tarantula? No problem. But if it's a white one my skin crawls and I scream like I'm, oh... maybe 5? (And) then someone has to come and save me!

4. Confrontation: do you cause it, deal with it as it comes, or run far far away?

Take it as it comes, baby. "Baby steps. Baby steps to the car..."

5. Wood floors or carpet?

I would looove hardwood floors, because that is what I grew up with (but unfortunately, for now, I have carpeting, and even worse, LOTS of ceramic tiling.)

Love Thursday: I Love When My Bella Figlia Sings

Old MacDonald Had A Random...

Me: "Old MacDonald had a farm! E I E I O! Aaaand on that farm he had a..."

Walker: "Kids!"

Me: "Kids? E I E I O! With a..."

Walker: "Oh yeah!"

Me: "Here, and a.."

Walker: "Oh yeah!"

Me: "There! Here a.."

Walker: "Great!"

Me: "There a..."

Walker: "Uh-huh!"

Me: "Everywhere a.."

Walker: "Oh yeah!"

Me: "Old MacDonald had a farm! E I E I OOOOOO!"

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Husband Mother

My husband has given me an assignment. It came about like this:

Currently in Illinois, my beloved called home just in time to hear me reach my uppermost threshold in exasperation, very close to having a nervous breakdown as I buckled under the relentless din that Thing One and Thing Two were dishing out. I kept sending them away, insisting on just a few quiet minutes in which to speak to their father, but they kept rubber-banding back to me, mouths and voices going incessantly. Jesse finally instructed, "Turn on them and yell, 'GO! NOW!', short and sharp." Fed up, I did, and they froze, mid-yap. Cowed and shrinking, they slunk down the stairs to their room. The baby said, "Mom, that made me scared of you," but I was so damn grateful for the silence that I didn't let it bother me.

For the first time in a long time, my OTRT love and I were able to have the semblance of an actual conversation. He said, "There's this book on the best-seller's list. I can't remember what it's called...something kinda like...the title's along the lines of 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon'. Anyway, it's about this Chinese woman who married a Jewish man and they made an agreement-the children would be brought up in the Jewish faith, but raised using the "Chinese" method of parenting."

I laughed and told him that I knew what he meant, having read everything that Amy Tan ever published. A "Chinese" mother doesn't worry about their child's psyche: bring home an A- and she'll harangue and harass and call you 'worthless' until you get back in line and bring home that A+, thank-you-very-much!

We laughed some more, and then he said, "Maybe you should raise the kids a little more Chinese." I said, "That would mean insulting Winter when she struggled with math." He said, "That's right," and then I got dead serious and said, "I could never do that. I don't believe in that." I could hear him smile over the phone and his voice softened and he said, "I know that."

I swapped out the boys' toy boxes for them for a bit more reprieve, and then my husband asked, "When was the last time you worked on your book?"

I stammered, "No, no. I'm having some sort of...problem. I mean, I've looked at it, but you don't understand, I can't even bring myself to write a blog. I can't even write a letter, and I don't know..."

He interrupted me, "That's it! I'm raising you Chinese."

I burst out laughing, "What?"

"Seriously. You're worthless. Other people write books! (I'm cracking up) No excuses!"

"God, I love you!"

"Here's your assignment..."

"No, seriously, I can't! I have to do dishes, and..."

"No Excuses! (More gales of laughter) Your assignment is to look up that book on the New York Times bestseller list-just type in bestseller and Chinese-and then write a blog about it. 500 words."

"Jesse, I..."

"Shut it! I'm raising you Chinese! Do it or I'll call you worthless again!"

"Okay," I laughed, "but if I don't get a comment from Jesse Mohn on my blog telling me that I'm worthless, I'm not doing any more assignments."

"That won't work. You know that I don't have access to the internet out here. I can't..."

"You're worthless! No excuses!

"Other people can access the internet...! (more laughter)"

Can you see why I love him so much? So. I looked up "bestseller Chinese" and found this article. I'd told Jesse that I wouldn't mind reading it (the book), just to understand the thought process behind the "Chinese mother" way of parenting, and after reading this article I have to change "wouldn't mind reading it" to "really want to read it." A lot of Western readers are screaming, "Abuse!" after taking in a few of Chua's examples of "tough love", but two quotes from Amy Chua's article/excerpt ("Western parents are concerned about their children's psyches. Chinese parents aren't. They assume strength, not fragility..." and "It's not that Chinese parents don't care about their children. Just the opposite. They would give up anything for their children. It's just an entirely different parenting model.") have me leaning further into the "for her" camp than the "against her" one.

One of the mantra's that the Mohn babies have heard from (and will continue to hear from) Jesse and I ad nauseum is, "Sometimes in life you have to do things that you don't want to do. Sometimes (in life) you have to do things that are hard." I think that Amy Chua's brand of parenting is designed to prepare kids for that. Do I have the stomach for her method? Not so much. But I can't condemn it, either.

(And) hey, that's how my husband raised me, and look how great I turned out! Seriously, though, what do you think? (No, not about how I turned out! About "Chinese mothering"...) Check out the article (linked above) or the book and give your opinion in the comments. Or else just, you know, tell me I'm pretty.

Spin Cycle: Behind the Blog

The first post that I ever wrote on Blogger explained the meaning behind "My Bella Figlia". For the pronunciation of "figlia", go here and click on the listening feature. To hear Pavarotti sing the aria Bella Figlia dell'amore, click here.

I first started blogging on the (now defunct) parenting site Maya's Mom. It was a wonderful community and I "met" several wonderful women, like BonggaMom and Jamie Lee. They gave daily blog prompts like "3 things I want to remember about my kids..." and "My Moment Wednesday". The site was sold to Babycenter, which is lovely. Really. It's just not Maya's Mom. All of my Maya's Mom posts are archived here. Several posts are missing photos as the save option allowed for text only. I keep telling myself that I'll get around to restoring these posts someday, but...*sigh*)

I generally blog in the morning while Sesame Street is on. I used to be more proactive about it, blogging at night and setting up posts for the following day, but I haven't done that in a while. I've found that the mommy-blog medium just works for me. I love being able to incorporate pictures and music to my posts, and I love that, in some ways at least, the internet is more permanent than a journal or a scrapbook. I love being able to connect not only with people like me, but with people that come from other experiences and truths. I want my kids to know who I was when I'm gone, not just as their mother, but as a person, and I want to be able to look back with rheumy eyes and remember those 3 things about them that I didn't want to forget.

For more blog-revealing spins, head on over to Sprite's Keeper.

RTT: "But we're all mad, here..."

I saw a bumper sticker while driving My Favorite Middle to school today that made me furious. It said, "Marriage=" and then had restroom symbols of a man and a woman on it. I wanted to ram their car. I wanted to write, "OR Marriage= Man + Man OR Marriage= Woman + Woman" in black Sharpie on their pristine white paint-job. I wanted to key their vehicle. Because ignorance and baseless fear make me forget what Mr. Rogers taught me.

I went to see the new Alice in Wonderland movie and cannot for the life of me understand why reviewers aren't getting behind it. Several reviews essentially said that it was "too weird". Really? If you approach anything referring to Wonderland without expecting (nay, embracing) the weird, well then, you just deserve what's coming to ya, that's what I have to say about that! My only complaint *Spoiler Alert* is that Alice doesn't choose to stay in Underland. My favorite parts: Johhny Depp's Mad Hatter's Scottish personality reciting The Jabberwock, the moment when The Hatter says to Alice, "Why is it that you always seem to be either too big or too small?" and the psychology of the 2 queens' relationship as sisters. I could write an entire post based on that last one alone...I also love Syfy's Alice. It just came out on dvd, and while the climax of that movie is sadly lacking, the rest of it is marvelous. Plus, Andrew Lee Potts' Hatter and Matt Frewer's White Knight are too good to be missed! Srsly.

I've been crafty lately (as in cutting and pasting, not rubbing my hands together muttering and laughing to myself.) My inner artist is screaming at me a lot, and my "real" life is suffering for it. My house is trashed, but brainstorming and plotting and writing and such are going swimmingly. I mosaic-ed a handmade cobra yesterday...just sayin'.

Sesame Street is over, and I really need to walk away from this screen long enough to engage my child, clean the kitchen and maybe start dinner in the crockpot. So... head on over to Keely's for more happy random! :)

Monday's Muse: Lucy March and Discovery Playlists

I am a Lucy March blog junkie. Lucy March is really Lani Dianne Rich, and she is an author that runs Discovery and Revision workshops when she isn't writing her latest novel. I haven't taken either of her courses (yet), but have picked up a lot of good stuff just from "hanging out" with her and Jenny Crusie online. One of the things that they both suggest is making a playlist for the book you're working on. I'm deep into my Nano novel, Ouroboros, and have compiled all of the music and some of the images that I've collected for inspiration and offer it up here for anyone interested in a glimpse at what I've been working on. It's in 3 pieces-really 3 playlists, the first two in video form. Enjoy! :)

Love Thursday: I Love Mr. Rogers

I grew up watching Mr. Rogers, Sesame Street and The Electric Company. I loved Mr. Rogers, especially, because he reminded me of my dad (thin and tall with a long, handsome face and dark hair parted on the side.) I could go on and on about all that I learned from PBS in general and Mr. Rogers specifically, but instead I'll just tell you this:

Once, about 4 years ago when I was having an awful day, I snapped on the television and started flipping through channels in an attempt to distract myself. About three channels in, I found myself eye to eye with Fred Rogers. His face took up the whole screen. He leaned forward, smiled at me and said, right. to. me. "I love you. Just the way you are." And I burst into tears. Because even when you're grown, sometimes you just really need to hear that. And for that alone I will always love him.

So, the next time that your world falls to hell, grab a blanket and a pillow and go curl up on the couch and watch Mr. Rogers. I guarantee you will feel better.

(A P.S. to any Mr. Rogers haters out there: I'd tell you just how much you suck and then beat you up, but Mr. Rogers raised me better than that.)

RTT-The Softer Side of Sears

I changed my blog background to reflect how much I need Spring to get it's a** in gear. It's kinda like the gentle (often hidden) side of me, so every time I log on and see it I think, "The softer side of sears..." Turns out my softer side is weird, too.

My family has been saying a lot of funny crap, lately. For instance:

I was explaining to Walker how his Pulls-Up worked. After explaining that if he tinkled in his Diego Pull-Up, the little blue pictures would disappear, West (who was remarkably interested in the subject) piped up with, "It's like he does magic with his penis!" I laughed as his dad amended, "No, it's more that he does magic with his tinkle!" Then in an aside to me, "The magic with your penis comes later!"

I was unbuckling Walker from his carseat when out of the blue he piped up with, "I'm gonna eat you like a burger!"

Jesse put on clean socks and then promptly spilled a glass of water on his feet and said, "Dammit! I just put these on! Someone needs to invent waterproof socks!" and I said, "They have. It's called "skin", dumbass!"

I had a lot of other randomness stored up, but unfortunately I stored it in my head and it turns out that my head isn't the place to put something that I want to find again...so. I got nothin'.

For a random time call Keely@The Unmom (and then she'll redirect you to The Bitchin' Wives Club as she's taking the day off!

Cool Ticker!

So here's the thing: I have been messing with my novel, trying to edit it, thinking that once I'd completed THAT, I would continue writing until I had 100,000-110,000 words. CreateSpace donated one free bound copy of each NanoWriMo winner's novel, but the text must be submitted and ordered by the end of May...so that's when I need to be finished. I've decided to just write until I've met my word count goal-much like in November, and then edit this monster (my literary baby.) Jennifer Crusie posted a cool link on her blog today. I've used it to make this ticker as I count down to 100,000. Jenny says that if we don't produce word count, people will throw rocks. Gotta go write!

"Haha, Mom! HA HA!"

I was laying down beside my poor, sick middle kid to facilitate his napping. He snaked his little hand into mine and smiled a little with his eyes closed. I said, "I love you!" His voice drifted away into sleep as he replied, "I love...Bakugans!"

Conversations with Walker #2

An exchange between my youngest and myself last week as I put both boys to bed:

Me: Seeing that West is hoarding ALL of the Ben 10 guys in his bed and correctly assuming that it's the cause of Walker's wailing in the crib behind me. "Buddy, what are you doing? Absolutely not! Half of those guys are Walky's from Santa..." I step forward and begin to "help" Westie sort action figures into two piles.

Walker: "West, you give me my fuckin' guys"

Me: Momentarily stunned, I don't turn around, telling myself that I definitely misunderstood that. I mean, we still have to ask him to repeat himself occasionally, his speech isn't always clear and there's NO WAY that my baby just said the f-word, right? Right!? "No, West. Gimme Jet Ray. That one's Walker's..."

Walker: Clear. As. Day. "WEST, I SAID, 'YOU GIVE ME MY FUCKIN' GUYS!!!'"

Me: Clapping hand to mouth to keep from laughing and walking to the doorway to see Jesse sitting in the living room, "Jesse! Did you hear what your son just said?!" I tell him, and even as he shakes with silent laughter it's not lost on me that I didn't have to spell out for him which son I'm talking about. "Oh God, and I can't even blame this on you, can I?!" He shakes his head no. "This is all me." I square my shoulders and put my mom-face back on. I walk back to the crib and use my sternest voice: "Walker Cash, you don't say that word, that's a grown-up word!"

Walker: All innocence and big blue eyes, "What word?"

Me: Oh. My. God. I'm going to have to say it. How do I say it without reinforcing it?! Jesus, take me now. "You don't say 'fucking'!"

Walker: "I didn't say 'fucking'."

My head explodes, The End.

Conversations with Walker #1

During family Christmas goodbyes:

Auntie Natty: "Goodbye Walky! I'll see you soon for your birthday!"

Walky: "Yeah, I gonna have a FOUR-ARMS CAKE!"












Auntie Natty: (fairly sure that this is the first I've heard of it, laughing) "Really? Does Mama know that? Well, you tell that mom that she can call me if she needs help with that!"

Fast forward to the day of his 3rd birthday party:

Mama: "Okay, Walky! First we'll eat pizza and THEN we'll have your FOUR-ARMS CAKE!!!"

Walky: "Nooo! I want a ACCELERATE CAKE!"












Mama: "Forget it, kid. Not gonna happen. I already bought the frosting for four-arms!"

Wordless Wednesday: Christmas Kids

RTT: Baby, Birthday, Backyardigans

Today is my youngest's 3rd birthday and I'm remembering that labor with him was the fastest and the most brutal and realizing that the words "fast" and "brutal" pretty much sum him up. Is that weird?

I asked Jesse to re-explain blu-ray for the umpteenth time last night and he finally got through to me when he said, "They're like dvd's on steroids. But good steroids, not some crappy nutritional supplement from GNC." and I said, "Like the steroids that make penises small?" and he said, "Yeah." So now I understand: Blu-ray discs are dvd's with small penises.

My daughter's cat, Snowbelle, killed the Christmas tree. We've had the same fake tree since Winter was a baby and now her damn furball has knocked it over and snapped the base of it and so next year we'll have to replace it. On the bright side, none of the ornaments broke and the tree will be taken down and put (thrown) away before the 1st this year.

I began re-reading what I wrote for Nano in November, getting ready to finish the first draft in January and I HATE IT. So much stupid crap to fix, like describing what my gamer husband would call an NPC (non-player-character) as "graying at the temples" in one paragraph and then reading that he's a buff, civic-minded teen 2 minutes later. Suck.

Walky is enjoying his first present of the day: a Backyardigans Fairytale dvd and I have to say that the Backyardigans are awesome, if only because they expose kids to every musical genre imaginable.

I've been planning a review post of several products (and shows and books) that I've come across lately( like Dawn Direct Foam dish soap and the Syfy channel's Alice and Brita water pitchers.) Maybe I'll eventually get on that.

Wintertime in MN has gotten to me early this year: it's usually February before I start buying new houseplants in desperation to get me through the last hard month of cold here. I have truly run out of window space, now and so I hope that this winter will end as it began: short and mild.

I've been sitting here, with my middle kid sitting within the circle of my legs while I stared at the screen trying to decide whether or not I've got any more random to share and now he just got up and Katie just jumped up to take his place, turning once before curling into a circle and collapsing against me with a contented doggy sigh that sounded suspiciously like, "Finally!" I think that's my cue. I should go, now.

Use the purple button at the top of the page to visit Keely and other Random Tuesday posts.

Merry Christmas

Westie's 6th Birthday, Belatedly

I can't believe that my baby boy is 6! He'd been pestering us to go to his favorite "restaurant" Old Country Buffet for weeks (his favorite because he is possibly the pickiest child on the planet, and at OCB he can eat pizza and fries to his heart's content *sigh*) and so for two weeks after picking him up from school I had to chant, "On your birthday, on your birthday" all the way home. The night before his birthday I snuck into his room and turned it into a maze of crepe-paper streamers and balloons. I started doing that when Winter was little and now the kids know that their birthday celebrations start the moment that they open their eyes. Westie wanted pancakes for his birthday breakfast, and so we all ate pancakes and watched him open a present at the breakfast table: the book I Spy A Dinosaur's Eye. He was thrilled that it was something that he could take to school in his backpack. Books are allowed, toys are not! He brought a big bag of treats for his schoolmates to ease the pain of having to spend his birthday at school-lol!

When he got home, he opened the two small presents from his siblings: a red Bakugan from Walker and a small shiny purple snake filled with sand instead of stuffing that his sister picked out and bought herself. She told him that it was just like his favorite stuffie (a huge, purple, stuffed snake) and that the new toy could be it's baby. He said, "No, it's the little brother!" I thought that was fitting.

At 5:15 we all clambered into the van to pick Daddy up from work. We headed to OCB equipped with a bag full of presents and a candle and lighter for whatever dessert he chose. We ate dinner and watched West's smile and the way that his hat hair fell across his forehead as he talked, animatedly using his hands for emphasis. We said our bests and worsts. Winter didn't have any worst, telling us that it was a triple-good day because it was West's birthday and she got to swim in gym class and the new Harry Potter film came out on DVD. West's best: "It's my birthday!" His worst: "I had to go to school on my birthday." Winter offered to take West for his dessert. He came back with a swirly ice cream cone, falling from it's cone onto his hand. I thought, "Seriously? There are a dozen perfectly good cupcakes over there that would hold this damn candle! Oh well..." I stuck the number 6 candle into the top of the cone and tried to light it. I burned myself. I yipped and shook my hand, making everyone laugh. I tried twice more (and burned myself twice more!) I finally got it lit and West blew it out immediately and laughed his head off, proud of his joke. I shook my head and said, "Forget it! Sing!"

We sang "Happy Birthday" and let him tear into the rest of his presents: a Play-Doh Burger Builder, Splashy the Whale, a small animatronic triceratops and another book, this one about Transformers. We carried the loot home and I let him stay up later than usual so that he could play play-doh with his brother and cheat at his new game (he doesn't like being sprayed with water and so turns the whale to face Walker during his turn-lol!) before tucking a very tired birthday boy into bed! Here are a few highlights!






Tomorrow: Westie's Birthday party with friends and family on the 12th!

Happy St. Nick's!

In our family (well, my family on my mother's side) we've always celebrated today as the Feast of Saint Nick. In honor of the predecessor to Santa Claus, our children put out their stockings on the night of the 5th, and dig their goodies out of them on the 6th. Some, more religious families, take this day to honor the saint through prayer and teaching, but for us it's always been a day of fun, a beloved family tradition and an excuse to parade new Christmas themed pencils, socks and hair-ties before our non-St. Nick-celebrating schoolmates. Getting to eat chocolate for breakfast was pretty great, too. The 6th marks the true beginning of our family's holiday season. This year, the Feast of St. Nicholas falls on a weekend, which leaves the whole day for my kids and their cousins to happily lug their loot around (instead of having to wistfully set them aside in order to don boots and backpacks.) I am thoroughly enjoying their enjoyment and remembering my mom and all of the little ways that she made me feel special. Today I wish for everyone, regardless of their faith or creed, love and joy and the evidence of abundant generosity in their lives. Happy Holidays!

Love Thursday: Hairspray

The movie 'Hairspray' was one of the last gifts that I gave my mother. I picked it up for her on a whim, fairly sure that she hadn't seen it yet. She hadn't and we watched it that first night together...twice. In the following months, she watched it dozens of times. Looking back, I should've been concerned (because in the months before my Nana succumbed utterly to Alzheimer's, she watched Grease religiously every night.) I was just happy that she loved the musical as much as I did. As of today, it's been three months since Mama died, so this post is for her. I love you, Ma.

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