Silence in the Librar....er, Living Room

I am a horrible mother.  Yes, I said it.  I am a horrible mother.  No, I don't beat or spank or hit my children. I don't keep them locked in the basement tied to a radiator wallowing in their own filth.  No, I don't starve them or pray over them when they have life threatening illnesses.  I don't teach them hatred or intolerance or how to vote Republican.  I am a horrible mother because (dramatic pause for emphasis)...

I love it when they go to school.

There.  I said it.  My children, who I carried in my body and who I spent 9 months cooking then devoted 4 years to each of them as a stay at home mom, who I love more that the infinite Universe plus one; my children for whom I would step in front of a speeding train, for who I would climb Mount Everest in a bikini, for who I would ACTUALLY TOUCH A SPIDER (wait, maybe not that one).  Yes, I LOVE IT WHEN MY CHILDREN ARE NOT HOME ALL DAY AND AT SCHOOL.

I feel so terrible for saying that, but it truly is a wonderful thing.  I have had a child or children following me around every second of every day of every minute for the last 8 years, and while I was very anxious and weepy to see my littlest go off to Pre-Kindergarten this year, that sadness lasted all of about, oh, give or take, six minutes.

Let me explain why.

• Bathroom Use. - I can now actually use the bathroom for more than 5 minutes without someone knocking on the door to ask me if Optimus Prime has parents (no, he doesn't) or if killing a mammoth while walking through Skyrim is a good idea (no, it isn't).  I can sit and "ponder the universe" for as long as I like.  Seriously, it has been 8 years since I took a shit alone.

• Showering - Pretty much the same as "bathroom use", but in this case I can comfortably remove my clothes without having to lock 3 doors and run the risk of one of my boys coming in to ask me "why are your boobs so down low" or "is that your vagina? does it hurt?"  Showering has now become a pure art form.  I can actually savor scrubbing my hair with that awesome shampoo I spent too much money on.  I can sit and let the hot water soothe my aching back and let the bathroom steam up so I feel like I'm in a cocoon.  It's wonderful to be able to SHOWER again, instead of that five minute lukewarm water "pits and slits" routine I was doing for so long.  I feel like I am in a spa now!

• Exercising - My yoga in the mornings is now relaxing.  No longer is my Downward Dog seen as an invitation to body slam me.  My Sun Salutation is met with peace instead of "mom watch this, I'm a Ninja (something breaks)".  My final Savasana is restful and introspective, not "Look mom, I can be dead too!" followed by screaming and swords.  Yoga now, in the mornings, is what it is meant to be.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Savasana with Sword, Dodie -Age 4

Savasana with Sword, D Age 8

    

• Household chores - It used to be that folding clothes meant I would fold the laundry, leave the room, and come back to my children "helping" me fold by mixing everything up and dropping half the laundry on the floor or the dog.  The dog would then try to eat the clothes and end up slobbering all over half of them.  Yea kids, thanks for the help. Same with dusting and mopping the floors.  Please, just....dont help.

• Watching TV/Movie -  I can watch the most inappropriate TV or Movie I want without little pitchers hovering.  To date, while I have been folding clothes or dusting, I've watched, um, ok, um.....no that's not bad, no that's a kid show, OK!  I've caught up on Drunk History AND Mistresses so HA!  I am so rocking that TV time.  Today, for example, I watched a whole hour of The Adventures of Gumball before realizing that there were no children home and that I was the only person (read: adult) in the room.  Laughing.  Hysterically.  At Gumball

• Grocery Shopping - There is nothing more beautiful in this world than going shopping alone.  Especially grocery shopping.  Mysterious items like "Crap on a stick full of sugar that will kill you" do not end up in your cart after you turn your back to pick up broccoli.  Tantrums aren't being thrown when you accidentally walk past the toy aisle and screams of "I want that!" when pointing to some plastic knock-off "Tony the Train Engine" made in Crapzbekistan by blind infants in wheelchairs who are paid ten cents a year. There's none of that.  There's just me and the list and I'm out within the hour with time to spare.  It's amazing. 

• Gaming - I hate to say it, but I wish I had more time to do this.  For those folks who think that Stay at Home Moms have it easy, they don't.  And now that my kids are in school until 2:30, you'd think I would guiltily take some time to put my feet up and play some Dishonored or Assassin's Creed or finally finish my quests in Solstein and Skyrim.  I would so love to do that, but by the time I'm done with all the other things, there's really no time and I don't want to sit down and start something that I can only do for ten minutes.  Sure, I've taken a few minutes to check out Terraria (still don't get it), and kill a few skeletons in Minecraft, but if anyone thinks I've got a solid 8 hours to sit on my ass and play (like I'm sure some people think SAHMs do), you're wrong.  Gaming is still reserved for late nights, and because I'm so busy during the day, those "late nights" are few and far between.

• Me - Lastly, and not least, I've found this person again.  You lose yourself in your kids when you're a mom.  I haven't seen me in 8 years.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still a mom and still completely devoted to those boys I love so much.  Just, for a part of the day, I can just be "me" for a while.  I'm not "Mooo-ooommm wipe my butt!" or "Mommy help me with my math!" or "Mama he hit me!" or "Ma, I'm bleeding and my leg is falling off".  While, I love being all those versions of "Mom", it's still nice to discover "Alessia" is still around, lurking about in her Skinny Puppy T-Shirt and combat boots.  

So there you have it, all the reasons why I am a terrible mother.

I can't wait until tomorrow.

From the Mouths of Babes.....

I organized an event last night at Dante's school for the 3rd and 4th graders.  It was an Pajama party/Movie Night and lots of fun.

I am the type of mom who likes to interact and get to know the kids. Last year, I knew every one of Dante's Kindergarten classmates (and I'm well on my way to knowing all of his 1st grade mates this year) and I can still see them today and say hello to them (and strangely enough they somehow remember me) <----#sarcasmfont

Anyhow, I sat down with some of the kids and chatted with them and this is what I discovered from today's 8 and 9 year olds.

• The Lorax is good but it's boring and nothing blows up
• My dad used to be a DJ in the olden days in the 90's.
• My mom is really old.  She's 32.
• We should turn off the movie and dance because I want to show everyone my moves and maybe someone will want to be my girlfriend.
• It's weird to see my friends without their clothes on. (The kids were wearing pajamas, not the required school uniform)
• My grandpa was a warrior in the Venetian War. He's dead now.
• In the 80's there were no cell phones so people couldn't call anyone unless they were home.
• In the 80's computers were as big as your house and only rich people had them.
• Girls are weird because all they want to do is hit you
• Boys are weird because all they want to do is hit you
• My dad has tattoos like you except his are nicer
• I like your tattoos. My mom won't let me get one yet.
• Is Justin Bieber your favorite singer?
• You like Star Wars?  But you're a mom!
• How could you have seen Star Wars when you were a kid? It wasn't real back then.

And my favorite of the evening:

• I love your hair and your lipstick.  You look like a goth lady, but old and with jeans on.
  

Nail. Head. Hit It.

With Dante now attending a public charter school, hubby and I were faced with the fact that he was going to have to learn and recite the (stupid) Pledge of Allegiance everyday.  We waffled with the notion of teaching it to him beforehand without the whole "under god" phrase since it was not part of the original pledge and since Dante only knows the word "god" as being a word that we don't yell or use because it may "hurt people's feelings".

Before you start yelling at me that I've taught my son that "god" is a bad word, STFU and hear me out.  We taught him that phrases like "oh my god" should be replaced with "oh my gosh" because for some people the word "god" is important and we don't want to be rude.  We also taught him the difference between, "Look at that amazing painting of Jesus Christ" and "Jesus Christ, that painting just fell on me". Big difference.

Anyway, we waffled with teaching Dante the pledge beforehand without the 1950s Cold War era addendum but decided against it, believing that this would be a form of indoctrination that we, as Atheist parents, are completely against when it comes to religion and the like.  Let him learn and say the Pledge, whatever. It's not going to turn him into an evangelist sidewalk bible thumper.  Hell, I played the "virgin" Mary in a Xmas pageant when I was a kid and I turned out ok.  I also recited the pledge throughout my elementary years and was not scarred from it.  (Incidentally, I now do not say or stand for the pledge because I understand it to be a load of bullshit and I don't "pledge allegiance" to any flag or country. My allegiance is with my family, so stuff it. But, as an adult, that is my choice and my right.)

So the other day, Dante came home from school and with a solemn look on his face he said to me, "Mommy, I learned the Pledge of Unlegion today and I said the "under god" part".  I told him, "That's great! You can say it if you want to and if you don't want to you don't have to. Just do what you want!"  And I asked him to recite it for me:

I Pledge Unlegion to flags of the United States of America
And to restructive of witches stands
One Nation ....(then he whispered) Under God
With Limiting and Just Dance for All.

I clapped and said, "Great Dante! Now do you know what all of that means?"

And he calmly replied, "I have no idea, Mommy".

Exactly.

Harper Valley PTA, Not Really....

Well, it was inevitable in the grand progression of things. Since becoming a mother, I've watched my children achieve milestones in their development. But, I've achieved milestones of my own as well. I became a Soccer Mom; I became a Disney Mom, I sent my oldest son off on his first day of school; and now, I have reached yet another milestone: I have attended my first Parent-Teacher night at Dante's Montessori Academy.

I have to say that while everyone was really nice, I couldn't help hearing this song in the back of my head as I mingled and grazed over the hors d'oueuvre table.



Sure, it's not like I didn't expect to "stand out" from the other parents, I guess, but what caught me off guard the most was the fact that I did not feel as though I was a parent. In my mind, I was the kid. In my mind, I am still sixteen years old. In my mind, I was not the mother of two children. In my mind, one of the moms I met was forty years old and I thought she was "old" until I realized that I am 36 years old and closer to forty than to sixteen. I felt so strange because I forget that I am a grown-up. I really do. Don't get me wrong, I don't neglect my children and go out clubbing and have this delusion that I am really twenty years old. But, I tend to forget that I am a grown-up. I just think I'm sixteen and still "cool" and relevant. Something which slaps me in the face about how wrong I am when I see a group of alterna-teenagers looking at me funny as I try to "relate' with them about hair dye, tattoos, and The Smiths. Who the hell is My Morning Jacket, by the way and how come none of these kids know who The Misfits are?

True, I don't exactly look like someone who makes rice crispies treats and sends their kid to Montessori school and (soon) piano lessons, but we all knew that was going to be the case. Although secretly, I would have been thrilled beyond belief if, walking into the PTA meeting, I would have come face-to-face with a chunky 30-something alterna-mom who was stuck in the 80's and obsessed with VH-1 Classics. She wasn't there, but I did meet a very nice mom whose son and Dante seem to have "clicked".

It was fun being a parent at a PTA meeting. I got to ask about my child's progress, about his behavior, about him as a student. The most humbling slap back to reality was seeing Dante's "work folder" in which all of his art and writing projects are kept until they are sent home at the end of the month. Inside, I was greeted with the budding personality of my son, independent from me as his mom. I got to be "the parent", asking questions about what activity they were doing when this was made, that was made, and so on and so forth. And I got to be that parent who set aside a box here at home to put away the special art work my child produces throughout the years, so that when he is in his 30's I'll be able to give it to him to look at.

I've said it before, I'll say it again: I get it now, mom. I get it.

Mad Props to Henry David Thoreau

Never in my life have I attempted to "keep up with the Joneses". I have always done my own thing and not much cared if everyone else was doing it or if it was cool or if it was *ahem* appropriate. Since having a child and becoming a mother, things have changed and I feel that I am constantly being nudged into "keeping up with the Joneses" when faced with various parenting choices. While the major options are long past scrutiny (vaccinations, circumcision, breast feeding, and the like), there are these new hurdles that have arisen as Dante has gotten older.

The first came with potty training. I come from the notion that when you child is ready to potty train, they will potty train. There were moms around me who started training their children at 2 years old which was astounding to me. Dante wasn't interested in training at 2, and I didn't push him. The last thing I wanted was some sort of freak child who was scared of the toilet and who would grow up having strange scatological fetishes. That's all I'd need. I have slowly come to accept that Dante is already going to be screwed up on some level as his mother has pink hair, tattoos, piercings, and listens to Duran Duran like its cool, but I certainly don't want to compound that by instilling him with some gross poop fetish and toilet phobia. I can see it now, the year is 2026 and my son is on Jerry-atric Springer in a diaper being beat up by some 400 pound pink haired, tattooed dominatrix named "Mommy". Yea, don't tell me you can't picture it.

Anyhow, regardless of whether or not he was ready or I was ready to start potty training him, there was always the underlying push from the environment to start him. To keep up with the mommies around me, because, in my insecure brain, I felt like I was doing something wrong if I didn't throw him on a toilet and hound him until he was blue in the face. But I didn't. I stuck to my proverbial guns and went with the flow. Consequently, as Dante turned 3 and became more independent, he decided when he wanted to stop going to the bathroom in his pants and he told me when he wanted to use the toilet. It just happened out of the blue. Dante said "I have to go to the potty", we went, and that was that. Despite a few accidents here and there, he did it on his own and now just goes to the bathroom like a champ. No pushing, no coaxing, no begging or pleading. He was ready and he did it.

The next hurdle we've had to face is the school enrollment hurdle. It seems that the new trend is to start your child in school at 6 months old. I'm not even kidding. There are schools here in the area (and I am sure everywhere else) that enroll fetuses. You're pregnant? Great, enroll your embryo into our potty training classes and start taking away their pacifier. I'm not even joking. Isn't it our jobs as parents to teach our children? I mean, I can understand sending your child to school when they are 5 for Kindergarten because that's when their journey begins, but now I am faced with being one of the only mommies with a 3 year old who is not in school. And once again, I am being faced with "keeping up with the Joneses". My insecure brain starts chiming in with "Am I doing something wrong?", "Should I put Dante in school"? , "Is he going to be behind if he doesn't go to pre-pre-pre-K and learn about colors from a stranger instead of his mother?". These are all things that go through my head when I take Dante to the park and he's the oldest kid there and I am confronted by the Momazons asking me why he isn't in school. I usually say that I am teaching him at home and then get the "Oh you're raising a weird home schooled kid that's going to shoot up a school later on in life" look.

I don't want to put Dante in school yet. He's 3 years old for Christmas sake. We do just fine learning on our own. He's socialized, he's intelligent, he's engaging, he's curious and inquisitive. At this rate, I am not even sure if he is even going to go to school around here as we are zoned for some pretty horrible public schools and private school is not an option for so many reasons (namely, they are expensive and they are all religious and there's no way that's going to happen).
But I am constantly nagged by my psyche to "keep up with the Joneses", especially since all of Dante's friends his age are scattered around the area, at various schools during the week, and he hardly sees them anymore. Those are the times that my "keeping up with the Joneses" mentality kicks in the most. "Everyone else is doing it, why aren't we?" "Are we weird?"

And then I realize that, well, we are weird. We're always going to be a bit off kilter. Politically, religiously, the books we like, the movies we like, the clothes we like, and how we are raising Dante. It makes "keeping up with the Joneses" that much more difficult and essentially that much more pointless. I always likened myself to Thoreau's quote, "If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer." I'm going to have to remember that we march to a different orchestra entirely and trust my parenting choices to be good, intelligent, and the best for our awesome kid, and not try so hard to "keep up with the Joneses".

At least this week.