Category Archives: parenting

Beep

I set the timer on my microwave a lot. Sometimes it has to do with cooking, but most of the time it has to do with parenting.  For instance:

  • Using the toaster oven (cooking and parenting).  I have a habit of putting food in the toaster oven and then forgetting about it.  Frozen chicken nuggets don’t taste very good after baking for an hour.  
  • Chilling a bottle of wine in the freezer.  (Despite what you might be thinking, this has a lot to do with parenting.)  I have a habit of forgetting about this, too, and then the bottle freezes, the cork pops, and there’s a big mess.
  • Potty training.  I set the timer a lot when Dylan was potty trained.  I would put him on the toilet for five minutes in 30-minute intervals (or something like that) to keep the house from smelling like a sewer (or the public bathroom at the park).  Riley’s next! (Ugh.)
  • Family dinner.  This is a new phenomenon in my house.  We rarely eat as a family during the week, so I’ve started insisting that the boys and I sit at the kitchen table together for dinner for ten minutes (instead of eating on the couch in front of the television, computer and toys).  We eat and talk about our day, and when the timer goes off everyone is free to leave the table.  I’m happy to report we often stay at the table long after the timer goes off.
  • General warnings and threats.  “When the timer goes off in ten minutes, we are taking a bath!”  “When the timer goes off in five minutes, you have to let your brother play on the computer!” “When the timer goes off, you have to take your medicine!”  “When the timer goes off, it’s bedtime!”  You get the idea.
At this point, the boys are like trained soldiers.  They don’t always know what’s going to happen when they hear the beep, but they know time has run out on something.  I set it so often that Dylan sometimes yells, “No, don’t set the timer!” 
Yesterday, Riley and I went to Target while Dylan was at his afternoon basketball class.  While in the store, a woman on a motorized cart shifted into reverse and her cart beeped as she backed up.  Upon hearing the “beep, beep, beep,” Riley yelled, “Mommy, time’s up!”

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Filed under family dinner, parenting, potty training

The Things We (Don’t) Say

(WARNING: Blog Contains Explicit Language)

Did you see the pilot for “Up Al lNight” with Christina Applegate and Will Arnett?  One of the bits in the new sitcom was about how they had to stop cursing in front of their baby. The opening scene had them peering down on her in her crib saying things like “She’s so f—–g beautiful” and “I can’t believe we’re f—–g parents.”

It’s pretty simple.  If you don’t want your kids to swear, don’t swear.  However, we all do it, and that’s when you have to do some actual parenting and explain to your children (like a billion times) why these words aren’t nice.  And possibly give time outs.  And take away “Cars 2: The Video Game” privileges.  And hope they don’t walk into their classroom at school and say “fuck-a-doo” to their teacher like they’ve been doing at home.

And don’t forget about potty-talk like stinky-face and stinky-butt.  No big deal at home, right?  Well, at camp this summer, Dylan yelled “Goodbye stinky face!” to one of his friends, except there was a teacher standing between them and it looked like he said it to her.  I made him apologize, but the look on her face made it clear that he was dead to her.  The lesson there was that potty-talk can be as dangerous as an f-bomb.

Sometimes we just don’t want our kids to know what we’re saying.  In this case, I spell.  D has to get a s-h-o-t today.  Or, D is going to the d-e-n-t-i-s-t tomorrow and I’m  f-u-c-k-i-n-g dreading it. Or, D’s teacher asked me if he has a h-e-a-r-i-n-g p-r-o-b-l-e-m.  (He doesn’t.)  Spelling isn’t for everyone.  It requires a high level of attention – for the speller and the listener – and might not work if the television is on, the kids are whining or your smart phone is within reaching distance.  My best advice is to spell words that have less than six letters.  Of course, Dylan has begun learning his letters and sounds, and he watches the “Letter Factory” non-stop, so this technique will soon be w-o-r-t-h-l-e-s-s (sorry, that was more than six letters).

I have a friend who refers to her daughter as “Sylvia” whenever she talks about her in front of her.  For instance, she’ll say, “Sylvia isn’t going to so-and-so’s birthday party.” Just last weekend, Mike said something to me about Dylan but referred to him as “Derek.” I have no idea what he actually said because I was fixated on his code name choice.  Personally, I would have used Declan.  That’s the name I would use if I had a third child and it were a boy.  But I’m not having any more kids, so it’s more likely that Declan will be a dog or a fish’s name (or if my worst pet nightmare comes true, a lizard’s name). As you can see, code names are distracting for me.

In the end, whether you spell or use pseudonyms, it’s all about doing the best you can to protect your kids from stuff they may or may not need to hear. Still, sometimes we find ourselves in difficult situations.  Sometimes we end up talking, arguing and maybe even cursing or crying about our children and all of their idiosyncrasies and challenges right in front of them.  With no spelling and no code names.  And they hear all of it and they understand a lot of it.  Then what?

I recently found myself in this unfortunate scenario and was only able to stop after Dylan yelled, “Mommy, stop talking!”  What he meant was, “Stop talking about me!”  I did what any Loving (and very Guilty) Mama would do.  I stopped talking.  I hugged my little boy as tight as I could, kissed him until he forced me to stop out of annoyance, told him how special he was and how much I loved him, and hoped I hadn’t screwed him up for good.  And then I took his lead and moved on.  Kids are amazingly good at not dwelling or holding grudges. And then I promised myself that I would never do anything that f—–g i-r-r-e-s-p-o-n-s-i-b-l-e (too many letters again) in front of Declan again.


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Filed under cursing, Guilty Mama, parenting