Sarah came home a few minutes ago. She was crying and I followed her into her room to figure out what was up.  She wouldn’t say anything at first, but finally it came out that she’s very upset because the friend that she has been hanging around with told her to “shut up.”

I don’t like hearing, “shut up,” either. It’s rude and abrupt. There’s got to be a better way to halt the flow of words, but so far I’ve found that “enough” and “shut it” aren’t very good alternatives.

Sarah was angry and wanted a chance to “vent” to someone. That’s when she heard the “shut up.”  I’m pretty sure I was the subject of the vent, as I’d just kicked the girls outside and told Sarah to get some exercise. I thought it was very grown up of her to use the word, “vent.” She wants a friend that she “can talk to about anything.”  I tried to explain to her that there’s no such friend in existence.

I have a few close friends, a boyfriend, a sister, and a mom that I talk to about things. They are all wonderful listeners, but I cannot talk to any of them about everything. It’s not a matter of trust - I trust them. It’s more a matter of boundaries and respecting their time and attention. The truth is that nobody wants to hear all your stuff. They’ve got their own stuff and we are all just trying to get by.

I told Sarah that what she needs is a journal. She can write anything and everything in the journal and Bay and I will respect her privacy - we will not read the journal. She can unload, vent, talk about everything until she’s feeling calm again.  Everyone needs a safe place to let off some steam.

*Update* I found her a  journal. It has a pretty cover and a band that keeps it closed. She asked if she’s allowed to write anything in there, “even bad words?” I assured her that it is her book and nobody else will read it.

Image credit: Michelle Smith

Today is the last day of school for my kids, and for about the last month I’ve been poking around online trying to find some fun things for them/us to do over the next three months.

I found the video above and immediately bookmarked it to share here. Using things you’ve already got in your kitchen — food coloring, milk and dish soap — you can create a really cool little “color dance.” Here’s another fun example. I feel cheated — my experience with this only involved pepper and water!

I found several other videos demonstrating fun things to do with food, including one of my favorites: cornstarch goo (oh my goodness, that kid’s a doll!). There’s also a dancing egg using a shot glass and an egg, you can make instant ice, and for older kids, try a lemon battery.

What are your favorite food science experiments?

My teenagers went to the prom this weekend. They were very stressed out in the days leading up to the prom - lots of yelling at each other and me. The prom can mean a lot of pressure with expensive clothes, expensive plans, expensive after-plans.

I kept trying to remind them, “It’s really just about the two of you spending time together,” but they didn’t buy that idea at all. They’d nod and act like they were listening, but I could see that the wheels were spinning and Bay was still thinking, okay, how can I afford to get a french manicure on my toes in addition to tanning, acrylic nails, and an updo…….

At one point, they called me from the restaurant (Tres Hombres) to say that Greg had forgotten the tickets (also something they forgot - corsage and buttonaire). I drove the tickets down and met them at Chuckie Cheese. I loved the idea that they stopped by Chuckie Cheese in their finery. I can’t remember how many birthday parties I attending in that (overwhelming) venue. I imagine the visit was bittersweet with that combination not-kid/not-yet-adult feeling.

They came home yesterday and slept all day long, finally making it out to the living room in the evening. Lots of fun and now everything is back to normal again. Which means they are either laughing or bickering.

Young love.

Image credit: Michelle Smith

If your child has an overactive thyroid (otherwise known as Graves’ disease), be cautious if your doctor prescribes Propylthiouracil. One report says this drug has been linked to liver failure when taken by children. It may even result in the need for an organ transplant.

One estimate says that “as many as five to 10 children die each year due to liver damage caused by propylthiouracil.” Unlike other medicines, the damage is also not reversible once the child is taken off the drug.

Image: sxc.hu.

Last night , I witnessed the sweetest moment between my daughter, Bailey, and her boyfriend, Greg. I immediately wrote about it and sent it off to my friend. This friend, like me, is a little disillusioned by love, and I thought she would appreciate hearing about someone who is getting it right.

Greg lives with us, because his mother packed him up and turned him out about 3 months ago. He is a great kid, although I’m pretty sure that since he’s only been here a few months, we are still getting the very best of him. Bailey and Greg have progressed from dating teenagers to a sort of hybrid committed relationship, but it’s also almost brother and sister relationship. For example, Greg sometimes tattles on Bay. This drives her crazy.

Last night, we were sitting around the living room and all of my kids were working on homework. I was telling Bay about something that she did when she was younger and she started to cry. I was horrified, because I expected her to laugh. Greg leaned forward and starting talking to her very softly. He got up and left the room. When he came back, he had a tissue in his hand. He sat next to her, leaned forward and gently wiped under her eyes. She smiled at him, laid her palm along his cheek, and kissed him. I’m pretty sure that my mouth dropped open in shock and awe.

It was like something out of a romantic movie. I felt both thrilled and embarrassed to witness it. Thrilled because I love the kids and I want them to feel cherished. Embarrassed because it was such an intimate moment - like they were the only two people in the room, in the universe.

Both of these kids have had their share of heartache, most of it at the hands of two really crappy dads, but it hasn’t scarred them to the point where they are afraid to allow themselves to be vulnerable.

When it comes to love, sometimes you’ve got to put yourself out there, take a chance and put the rules to the side. It reminded me of something that happened between my last boyfriend and I. Bailey did this spot-on imitation of my sister, Robin. It was so like Robin, that I started to cry because I missed her (yeah, we sometimes have the tears around here). My boyfriend was horrified and although he didn’t wipe my tears, he did scoop me up with a sweet, “Oh, baby, it’s okay…” that I still remember.

I’ve got to be open to letting something like that in my life again. If those two kids can do it, if they can be that brave and that open with each other, then I need to allow it to happen for me, too. It will be hard, but I have to believe that it’s do-able. And dear friend, whom I’m 99% sure is reading this - it will happen for you, as well.

Image credit: Bailey Smith

My kids are just about to finish off school for this year, as are so many of yours. Course this means some of them will be changing schools and the subject of uniforms has come up. This got me

sxc.hu

thinking of what everyone thinks out there.

For myself I find that a school with uniforms is better, at least for me it is. You won’t have to worry about who’s wearing what or what colors are okay to wear and which ones aren’t. I like the idea that each child will look the same because you won’t be worrying about which one has the next “Cool t-shirt” or even how many different color shirts they need.

Instead they’ll wear the same thing day after day, you can have two or even three shirts, skirts or pants and not worry. Your child will just need it re-washed during the week. Yes, it might mean more laundry but you won’t have to deal with the “Mom, I have nothing g that goes with my green jeans.” Instead it’ll be “Mom, wears my paid skirt, pants, shirt.” You’ll just state you have another one in the closet. Sigh with relief.

What are your thoughts? Are you for or against school uniforms and why?

Three of my kids are teenagers and I feel that our mornings are spent on the run. I have a hard time getting the kids to eat something, especially my 16-year-old daughter. I’m a firm believer in the idea that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I found this recipe for breakfast cookies that are the perfect breakfast on the go.

The Apple Bin Inn is located in the beautiful Lancaster County area of Pennsylvania.  If you’d like more information about the inn, then click here. You can find this and many other tasty recipes at BnBFinder.com.

Apple Bin Inn Breakfast Cookies

Ingredients:

1 cup butter, softened
1 cup packed light brown sugar
½ cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1½ cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon almond extract
½ teaspoon salt
3 cups oats, uncooked
1 cup chopped dried apricots
¾ cup dried cranberries
¾ cup sweetened flaked coconut
¾ cup slivered almonds, toasted

Directions:

A scrumptious addition to any breakfast, or great as a midday snack!

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Beat butter and sugars together until creamy. Beat in eggs, flour, baking soda, cinnamon, almond extract and salt just until blended. Stir in remaining ingredients.

Drop dough by rounded measuring spoons onto ungreased cookie sheet.

Bake for 14 to 15 minutes or until tops are golden. Enjoy!

Recipe used with permission from BnBFinder.com

Image credit: All Posters.com

When I was a Girl Scout (about 30 years ago), I’ll admit that I hated selling cookies. I was extremely shy and hated going door-to-door. My mother hovered behind me in the car, but otherwise it was me standing by myself giving the “sales spiel” at each door I knocked on.

One time, I ended up knocking the door on a dentist who lectured me on reasons why sweets were bad for people. He wouldn’t buy a box of cookies from me, choosing instead to give me a toothbrush. My mother waited in the car the entire time the guy talked to me and even had me stand in his entryway. I kept looking back to the car, scared at the prospect of being in a stranger’s house, while my mother sang along to the car radio, oblivious.

That’s one reason I read this story with interest. One little girl set up a way to advertise and take orders online. This would seem like a great business strategy, but some parents argued about the safety of this approach. Others thought this wasn’t fair to the girls that weren’t selling online.

At the time I sold cookies, there was a big debate about whether kids should allow their parents to take sell sheets into work. I guess there’s always a debate about fairness when it comes to selling.

The other debate about safety is another of interest. I never thought going door-to-door was very safe, but is the Internet any safer?

What are your thoughts?

Image: istockphoto

I was roaming all over the house looking for my phone. Cause, you know, I had pictures on it that I was going to use for about 5 articles.

I was muttering “where is my phone?”

Pone. Zack, the two year old very near death (because I’m about to want to kick his ass), says and hands me my dripping wet phone.

I figure, I’ll be calm what’s done is done, he’s just a baby.

Maybe it will dry out, I think. I take the battery out and leave my broken phone on the counter.

Two seconds later I walk outside and there he is in the baby pool with my phone and the battery and this is what I did:

I got in his face and yelled NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! and then I picked him up and took him to time out.

So what? I still have a broken freaking phone.

This is the THIRD death of phone I’ve had since I was a reluctant cell convert only a year and a half ago. Every single one of them was Kid + WATER related (toilet and shower, now baby pool).

Of course, when I find myself in the presence of my cell phone engineer cousin, all I want to talk about is Why the hell can’t you make a waterproof cell phone?

Because we want you to buy more phones.

I knew it!

So, don’t call me. I can’t call you. I don’t know your phone number. I don’t have it written down. Email me. If you don’t have email - I guess our relationship is over.

Photo source: Empowering Girls: So Sioux Me (Could anyone want to kick that baby’s ass? Yeah. I could. I have to restrain myself every single time he drowns my F$%^! Phone!)

A friend recently told me she thinks she’s ready to have kids because when all her pregnant or mother friends endlessly blabber on about the minute details of discharge or tantrums she’s actually not annoyed.

I told her that the reason I know that I am absolutely finished having children is because I am over being interested and back to being annoyed.

I’m a pretty good volunteer, I do my public service. I focus on my strengths, I enjoy teenagers, especially the “bad” ones, so I volunteer as a mentor and for a teen outreach in the community. I run a book club to give women a place to go hang out with adult conversation. I occasionally clean my mother-in-laws floors, I take my non-driving grandmother grocery shopping or to the pharmacy, I invite my daughter’s best friend over so her mom can go to the doctor. I figure I’m good on the service front.

Today this woman informed me I had to sign up to teach my child’s Sunday school class. When I told her I don’t really like young children and would prefer not to do it she looked at me like I should probably be struck by lightening. I got the same look when I told them I didn’t want to volunteer for vacation bible school.

I understand their logic - everyone needs to pitch in and they need teachers.

But, here’s my logic - I’m sending my daughter to vacation bible school so I can get some work done. I’m going to my own Sunday school class so I can talk to grown ups. I spend all day, all week, all month with my kids - it’s these church services that give me a break from my kids. Signing up to multiply the children I’m responsible for by ten or a hundred is enough to make me want to run screaming.

I like some children. I adore my own and think they are the most interesting people ever created. I don’t mind being around children that are not total misbehaving brats. But, too often my friends even are raising total brats that never have a consequence or rule and I don’t find it the least bit cute. I even have a few friends I think twice before calling because they won’t enforce any type of discipline - no time outs, no spanking, no bed time, nothing - and frankly I’m sick of the whining, crying battle. That’s not fun for me.

Just because my children participate in the children’s ministries - does that obligate me to volunteer there? What do you all think?