Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Weight Watchers Week 4
FYI, I lost one more pound this past week; that's six in all. I am so glad that I can once again wear last summer's shorts because it has been mighty hot around here this week and I don't have money to buy any new ones. Sugar-free popsicles are keeping me satisfied lately. I eat one after exercising as a cool-off treat. They only have 15 calories, so they are ZERO points on Weight Watchers. So nice to have a "free" food that isn't a vegetable.
"Go Play"
I read a very interesting article online today. It was written by Hara Estroff Marano and was titled, “A Nation of Wimps?” Its premise is “Parental hyperconcern may be why kids can't cope.” It detailed the plight of many current college students, who don't know what to do when they go away to school and mom and dad aren't there to tell them what to do 24/7. In a way, it made me feel vindicated as a parent. At least once a day, when there is something I need or want to do, I’ll tell my girls to “go play.” Now, my mama told me to “go play” any number of times and I don’t recall being traumatized by the statement. So, how come I feel guilty when I say it?
Before we adopted our two daughters, I had always worked full-time. When I left my job to stay home with them, being their mom became my full-time job. And I went at it with all the enthusiasm and diligence I could muster. For almost the first full year they were home with us, I spent my days entertaining them. I’d do an hour of “school time” with them, teaching them numbers and ABCs, I read to them, I watched TV shows with them and above all, I played with them. I had wanted kids to play with for so long that I really, really enjoyed that part of parenting. After that first year, the girls started to play more by themselves, which was a good thing because, and I never thought I’d say this, I got tired of playing all day.
Let’s face it, as much as I love kids and like to be a big kid myself sometimes, adult fun and kid fun are two different things. And I had woefully neglected my house. Now, I’m no Stepford Wife and never will be, but I do need to keep some semblance of orderliness in my house. When the house is a wreck, it really stresses me out. I also began to get more freelance work (I work from home), so that meant that I spent less time entertaining the kids. They seemed to take it in stride, but I still felt, and feel, guilty about not spending every possible minute with them. But, maybe I should let go of this guilt.
“A Nation of Wimps” suggests that today’s parents micromanage their children to an unhealthy degree. This quote hit home for me: “Or perhaps it's today's playground, all-rubber-cushioned surface where kids used to skin their knees. And... wait a minute... those aren't little kids playing. Their mommies -- and especially their daddies -- are in there with them, coplaying or play-by-play coaching. Few take it half-easy on the perimeter benches, as parents used to do, letting the kids figure things out for themselves.” The article stresses that learning is not limited to academics and that children learn by playing on their own or with other kids, rather than with parents who tell them how to play. Yeah, what’s so wrong with sitting on a bench and letting the kids play?
My mom never “played” with me. Was she neglectful? Absolutely not. She read books to me, she colored with me, she took care of me in every important way, and was always, always there to listen to me. But, she didn’t spend her days entertaining me. She spent them taking care of our house, tending our vegetable garden, cooking our meals, and, yes (gasp!) actually taking time out to watch some afternoon soaps! The horror! I feel absolutely sinful if I spend a little time watching videos on You Tube.
She didn’t feel the need to micromanage my days. She wasn’t strict with me about trivial things. If I didn’t like what was for dinner, she’d make me something else. She didn’t make me go to bed at any particular time, even on school nights. She didn’t limit the amount of hours I spent watching TV. She didn’t play food police and monitor every morsel of snack food I ate. She didn’t check to make sure I did my school homework or tell me when to do it – that was my responsibility -- but she helped me with it when I asked. Outside of one well-deserved spanking, she never punished me – she just made threats that were never acted upon or gave me very heartfelt lectures when needed. Everything she did flies in the face of all the parenting books I’ve read and try to follow. The experts would say she didn’t set enough limits, that she endangered my health by not forcing me to eat vegetables, that she didn’t make sure I got adequate sleep so I could achieve at school, that she didn’t even make sure I got my homework done before I watched TV, that her lectures fell on deaf ears and that she should have given me “consequences” when I misbehaved. The experts would all predict a dire future for me based upon my upbringing. And they would be wrong. I grew up to be an independent, responsible adult because my mom gave me some space to breathe and expected me to take care of my own responsibilities. I wasn’t her full-time “job,” but her much-loved child. She and my dad were too busy trying to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies to overanalyze every move they made as parents.
Maybe I’ve been taking this parenting thing too seriously . . .
Disclaimer: Lest one of my siblngs read this post and think, "Who was this permissive parent? Not my mama," I will add that my mama was very strict and overprotective about any activities outside the home. That said, she did give me a lot of freedom at home.
Before we adopted our two daughters, I had always worked full-time. When I left my job to stay home with them, being their mom became my full-time job. And I went at it with all the enthusiasm and diligence I could muster. For almost the first full year they were home with us, I spent my days entertaining them. I’d do an hour of “school time” with them, teaching them numbers and ABCs, I read to them, I watched TV shows with them and above all, I played with them. I had wanted kids to play with for so long that I really, really enjoyed that part of parenting. After that first year, the girls started to play more by themselves, which was a good thing because, and I never thought I’d say this, I got tired of playing all day.
Let’s face it, as much as I love kids and like to be a big kid myself sometimes, adult fun and kid fun are two different things. And I had woefully neglected my house. Now, I’m no Stepford Wife and never will be, but I do need to keep some semblance of orderliness in my house. When the house is a wreck, it really stresses me out. I also began to get more freelance work (I work from home), so that meant that I spent less time entertaining the kids. They seemed to take it in stride, but I still felt, and feel, guilty about not spending every possible minute with them. But, maybe I should let go of this guilt.
“A Nation of Wimps” suggests that today’s parents micromanage their children to an unhealthy degree. This quote hit home for me: “Or perhaps it's today's playground, all-rubber-cushioned surface where kids used to skin their knees. And... wait a minute... those aren't little kids playing. Their mommies -- and especially their daddies -- are in there with them, coplaying or play-by-play coaching. Few take it half-easy on the perimeter benches, as parents used to do, letting the kids figure things out for themselves.” The article stresses that learning is not limited to academics and that children learn by playing on their own or with other kids, rather than with parents who tell them how to play. Yeah, what’s so wrong with sitting on a bench and letting the kids play?
My mom never “played” with me. Was she neglectful? Absolutely not. She read books to me, she colored with me, she took care of me in every important way, and was always, always there to listen to me. But, she didn’t spend her days entertaining me. She spent them taking care of our house, tending our vegetable garden, cooking our meals, and, yes (gasp!) actually taking time out to watch some afternoon soaps! The horror! I feel absolutely sinful if I spend a little time watching videos on You Tube.
She didn’t feel the need to micromanage my days. She wasn’t strict with me about trivial things. If I didn’t like what was for dinner, she’d make me something else. She didn’t make me go to bed at any particular time, even on school nights. She didn’t limit the amount of hours I spent watching TV. She didn’t play food police and monitor every morsel of snack food I ate. She didn’t check to make sure I did my school homework or tell me when to do it – that was my responsibility -- but she helped me with it when I asked. Outside of one well-deserved spanking, she never punished me – she just made threats that were never acted upon or gave me very heartfelt lectures when needed. Everything she did flies in the face of all the parenting books I’ve read and try to follow. The experts would say she didn’t set enough limits, that she endangered my health by not forcing me to eat vegetables, that she didn’t make sure I got adequate sleep so I could achieve at school, that she didn’t even make sure I got my homework done before I watched TV, that her lectures fell on deaf ears and that she should have given me “consequences” when I misbehaved. The experts would all predict a dire future for me based upon my upbringing. And they would be wrong. I grew up to be an independent, responsible adult because my mom gave me some space to breathe and expected me to take care of my own responsibilities. I wasn’t her full-time “job,” but her much-loved child. She and my dad were too busy trying to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies to overanalyze every move they made as parents.
Maybe I’ve been taking this parenting thing too seriously . . .
Disclaimer: Lest one of my siblngs read this post and think, "Who was this permissive parent? Not my mama," I will add that my mama was very strict and overprotective about any activities outside the home. That said, she did give me a lot of freedom at home.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Weight Watchers Week 3
I lost one more pound this week. I got an online "reward" for reaching the 5-lb. milestone. What might that reward be? A gift certificate for weight watchers snacks? An autographed photo of Sarah, Duchess of York? No! All I got was the illustration shown here -- a star with a five in it. Online users don't get keychains or pins or stuff at weight loss milestones because we are not being weighed in at meetings and could be dishonest about how much we've lost. I can't imagine why anyone would want to pay to join weight watchers online to post fictitious weight information. Can you?
Anyway, I was happy with losing one pound since it's that ever so lovely time of the month and I used just about all my extra allowance points last week due to a raging case of the munchies.
Mama, There's a Frog in My Stomach
A couple of weeks ago, Tessa told me she had a frog in her throat. I think she had heard her Aunt Sandy use this phrase. I also think she took it literally. She first used this phrase to inform me that she wasn’t feeling well because she “had a frog in her throat.” The next day when she did something naughty, she told me the frog in her throat made her do it. Pretty crafty, eh? Early last week, the little darling was jonesing for a Pepto tablet in a bad way. After going potty, she informed me that she needed a Pepto because that frog went down her throat into her stomach and gave her diarreah.
It gets better. At the end of last week, she told me she was feeling really tired because a frog and a bunny were both in her throat. Sunday morning, she came and got in bed with us when she woke. She started thrashing her head around and head-butted me in the chin. OUCH! I said, “Be still. Why are you doing that?” She replied, “Noga bunny rabbits are in my throat playing ring around the rosie. That’s why my head was moving.”
The kid has a truly bizarre imagination sometimes. Since we’re not related by blood, I can’t say she physically inherited it from me. Is it an inborn trait? Or have I corrupted her little mind with too many psychedelic 70s kid shows? Or is my weirdness rubbing off on her a little bit? One can only hope.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Weight Watchers Week 2
Believe it or not, I lost 3 lbs. last week. I was amazed. I've never lost that many pounds in one week on any "diet." And I don't really even feel like I'm on a diet. Despite my whining last week, I adjusted to the measly 1 pt. cut-back with no problem. After reading lots of info on the message boards, I discovered that many people use all their "allowance" points, and that I definitely should use all my activity points (users are alloted points for exercise; these points can be swapped for extra food points). During week one, I was not using all my points every day and not using any of my activity points or exra points. I thought I was going to lose more by staying under my points goal. During week 2, I used all my activity points and some of my extra allowance points. I actually ate more last week, and lost more. Amazing! I'd never have dreamed I could lose weight without starving myself, but it's working so far.
Friday, March 9, 2007
The "S" Word
This week, I’ve been trying to break my decades-long habit of uttering the word “sh#t” whenever I am frustrated. It’s a hard habit to break. There are a few other curse words I’ve been known to use, but this is the only one that it has been hard for me to stop saying in front of my daughters. I noticed they had started saying it, so I gotta stop it! We made a deal that any time I catch one of them saying it, I will say “Uh oh” and take 2 pennies out of the guilty party’s piggy bank. If one or both of them catch me saying it, I have to put 2 pennies in both their piggy banks.
It’s been an uphill battle. Today has been particularly difficult because of the free-lance project on which I’m currently working. Long story short, some screwed up files that I am cleaning up are making my computer crash noga times. Every time it crashes, I say sh#t before I even think about it. A little while ago, Bridget said uh-oh to me again and I said, “I know I said it and I don’t care anymore. Grrrr.” To which she replied, “Maybe we just shouldn’t do it anymore today.” Good idea.
I feel like Huckleberry Finn after he moves in with the Widow Douglas and has to behave himself. He has to sneak away and cuss a whole lot just to get the taste back in his mouth. I’m sitting here thinking about how my own mama and even my sainted grandma both said this word in front of me when I was a kid. Is it really such a bad word? I didn’t think so until I heard it coming out of my little angels’ mouths. I’ve tried saying “shoot” but that just don’t cut it. I tried thinking of the funniest word I could use in its place, something like “tarnation” maybe. But tarnation just doesn’t automatically flow out of my mouth like sh#t. Maybe if I practice it enough, though, it will become a habit. i do so love the word tarnation.
I’m not giving up yet. Even if my efforts fail, at least I’ll make a dent in their college funds, 2 pennies at a time.
It’s been an uphill battle. Today has been particularly difficult because of the free-lance project on which I’m currently working. Long story short, some screwed up files that I am cleaning up are making my computer crash noga times. Every time it crashes, I say sh#t before I even think about it. A little while ago, Bridget said uh-oh to me again and I said, “I know I said it and I don’t care anymore. Grrrr.” To which she replied, “Maybe we just shouldn’t do it anymore today.” Good idea.
I feel like Huckleberry Finn after he moves in with the Widow Douglas and has to behave himself. He has to sneak away and cuss a whole lot just to get the taste back in his mouth. I’m sitting here thinking about how my own mama and even my sainted grandma both said this word in front of me when I was a kid. Is it really such a bad word? I didn’t think so until I heard it coming out of my little angels’ mouths. I’ve tried saying “shoot” but that just don’t cut it. I tried thinking of the funniest word I could use in its place, something like “tarnation” maybe. But tarnation just doesn’t automatically flow out of my mouth like sh#t. Maybe if I practice it enough, though, it will become a habit. i do so love the word tarnation.
I’m not giving up yet. Even if my efforts fail, at least I’ll make a dent in their college funds, 2 pennies at a time.
Tessa's 4th Birthday
Tessa celebrated her 4th birthday on Wednesday, March 7, the same day her Dyehdooshka celebrated his 65th! I hope someday we can celebrate their birthdays together. We had Tessa’s house party on Saturday, March 3. She got some really cool stuff and everyone enjoyed the Strawberry Shortcake cupcake cake that she chose. On her actual birthday, she received her gifts from Mama and Papa. She got a Moon Sand castle building set, some tracks for her GeoTrax train, Polly Pocket dolls with career clothes, Kelly and Friend’s Playroom Playset, a talking tea mat with dishes, Wizard of Oz dress-up clothes, a hippity hop ball, and a Polly-Pocket-sized Little Mermaid doll. Bridget also got a hippity hop ball and a Polly-Pocket-sized Belle doll as “just because” gifts (I don’t want the non-birthday sister to ever feel left out).
The weather’s been so nice this week that the girls have been outside a lot and not playing with the new “inside” toys. It’s bumming me out because I was so looking forward to playing with some of these toys! I finally got to play Polly Pockets for a little while with Tessa this morning, but she and Bridget have jilted me once again for the outdoors and the neighbor girls. Maybe I’ll just sneak in there and play with her stuff while she’s outside (hee, hee).
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