"The supermarket is NOT a playground!" and other brilliantly obvious quotes

Once upon a time, a nice mommy had to get some groceries for a Thanksgiving dinner for 10.  She set out, armed with her list, a large, empty cart, and two hangers on lovely children.  She knew that there was a bit of a risk attempting this arduous task with two children; after all, they had already spent 3 1/2 hours at work with mommy, playing video games, reading, and being basically sedentary.  She was determined, though.  "This could be fun," she thought.  They might enjoy being a part of this uniquely American holiday of togetherness.  Families come together at Thanksgiving, and what better way to celebrate that than to share in every aspect of bringing the holiday to fruition?  So what, they're only 8.  They can handle it.

So they begin in the produce section.  Quickly, the togetherness begins to deteriorate into determined shopper versus wild, giddy banshees in a battle of who can wreak the most havoc near hot house tomatoes.  (The banshees win.)  Large Granny Smith apples become cheek decorations, held closely to faces with a squeal of glee that is outrageously funny to children.  Not so much for the mommy.  "Stop that.  That noise is too loud!  Are we outside right now?"  The apples drop into the bag, destined for home and later to be chopped into a pie.  Wait, drop is not quite the right word--more like chucked into the bag.  "Stop that," the mommy hisses.  "They'll get bruised.  Can you go get me some bananas now?"  Off the mischief makers go to terrorize the bananas.

The still determined mommy finally steers the children out of the produce section only to be waylaid by the fresh, whole Dungeness crab on ice in the seafood section.  The children see immediate opportunities for puppetry.  The mommy sees salmonella.  "Don't touch that.  It's got bacteria!" 

Onward to the meat counter to get the pre-ordered turkey.  The mommy gives the order to the butcher.  The children see this break in the action as a signal to create some more mayhem.  All of a sudden, the aisle beside the ground beef and pork chops becomes a ring for a World Wrestling Federation championship.  One child has the other in a headlock.  Both topple to the ground again in loud peals of laughter that would have the world around them think this smackdown was the most fun they'd had in days.  "What are you doing?" the mortified mommy questions.  As if an answer to this question is what she really wants or even remotely believes she's going to get.  Shoppers go by and give the mommy looks of questionable emotions.  Sympathy in one face that says, "Oh yes, I feel you, sister.  That's why I'm here by myself."  Disgust in another, "Can't you keep those monkeys under control? What are you thinking allowing them to play in a supermarket the day before Thanksgiving?" 

"The supermarket is NOT a playground!" the mommy points out.  The children stare blankly back at her, pause for a second, and then burst into guffaws before trying to take each other down, karate-chop-style again.  Knowing that she's got to do something to intervene, the mommy quickly makes a small list for each of the children.  Go get this... the list says.  Well now she's done it.  The children bolt off in different directions in search of the "scavenger hunt" items.  Their frenzy in trying to get the yogurt/orange juice/aluminum foil/cider vinegar indicates to the mommy that this is not a helpful gesture.  It's become a race, and as with any race, there will be a loser.  And a sore loser is fodder for more dirty looks from passing shoppers trying desperately to get their own cranberry sauce, and it has tremendous potential for being the straw that breaks the camel's back in the fragile balance between being silly and snapping into a tantrum.  The children return with the items.  They ask for more tasks.  They want to work together this time.  The mommy is pleased.  She watches them as they go back again and again trying to find the exact right type of sea salt.

Finally, our little troupe of shoppers arrives at the check out counter.  Various tempting candies call like sirens to the children.  They are drawn to them, "Can we have one pleeeeeaaaassseeee?"  "No," says the mommy, matter-of-factly, hoping that a non-response will help the desire blow over.  The children become helpful, taking items out of the cart and onto the check stand conveyor belt.  "Wait....no....not the glass...." cautions the mommy with a hovering hand as the 3 lb. bottle of apple juice finally makes it to the hands of the checker. "Wow, Mom, we're going to go over $300!  This is a record!" one child bellows as he watches the tick, tick, tick of the register tape.  The mommy slowly swipes the credit card, trying to resist the urge to hush the child.  "We don't talk about money in public places, honey," she mutters under her breath.

"Would you like some help out?" asks the bagger.  "Oh if only you could," thinks the mommy.  "No," she says, "I think we've got it." she says.  And the children hop on to the sides of the already loaded down cart.  They make their way to the parking lot and the mommy spies another mom with kids entering the store.  "Now stay right next to me and don't get into trouble," the mommy hears the new mom say.  She passes the sympathetic look and smiles.

Finding the Working Mom Blogs

I'm on the search for more blogs written by moms who work outside the home.  I have found some cool ones written by moms whose job is to write the working mom blogs, (like Working Moms Blog and Working Moms Against Guilt) but not many when the mom has another, completely different job, but still wants to write her own personal blog.

This got me thinking.  Why is it that there are so many fewer "working mom" blogs than "SAHM blogs?"  It's not that SAHMs have more time.  I know they clearly don't.  In fact, when you're working at a job, (for the most part) you really actually have more time to concentrate on yourself and to work at a pace that seems infinitely slower than what happens at home (well, at least it does for me).  No, it can't be the time.  Is it that SAHMs have more to say? It's true, that most of the working mom blogs that I've seen have short posts and longer time between regular postings.  No, that can't be it either.

I suppose at the end of the day, it doesn't matter.  SAHMs and working moms have much in common.  They both have to get kids fed, get baths, homework, papers signed and with backpacks, and the list goes on and on.  And as far as blogs go, I find that I want to read those that provide me with a little bit of diversion from regular routine of my life.  When I read them, I am reminded that we're all trying to float in the same boat--raising kids in a world that has spectacular demands on your time and energy.  And that is why I find the time to read: Aging Mommy, Organic Motherhood with Coolwhip, Clueless but Hopeful Mama, Mommywords, Life in a Tiny Town and Swistle among many others.

Trying to balance between work and family is hard enough without any sense of knowing that you're not alone in this endeavor.  I'm so grateful for my friends and family who read my boring musings, and I'm grateful for mom bloggers--SAHM, WAHM or work outside the home mom--who show me how they do it.

What I Love About Volunteering

Even though I have a full time job outside the home, I definitely feel compelled to be involved in my children's school as much as possible.  I am currently the Membership Chair on the PTA board in charge of signing up families to help the state and national PTA advocate for school children across the country.  I feel good about being a member of an organization that does so much for children, but it's basically a paperwork job that I do after my kids are in bed or while they're in school.  It's great for lots of kids, but mine directly?  Not so much.

I do, however, find the time, because I think it's important, to be involved in activities for the school that directly help my children learn something.  This year, I'm working on the holiday craft fair, an afternoon in December where children can make art projects for gift giving for family members.  This year, we're teaching them quilling and pointillism a la Georges Seurat.  

I will get to be an integral part of my kids' education in a hands-on activity.  What I love most about this kind volunteering, though, is working with the amazing other moms whose artistic minds and inexhaustible creative energy inspire me.  Today, we got together, 3 of us, with all six of our kids, and while the kids played, we created crafts and art projects as samples for the craft fair.  Imagine Grandma's pride when she receives something like this made by her own 9-year-old grandson.

I made this sample by attaching ribbon strips to a stryfoam ring with straight pins

Getting to volunteer to do something that I love, that benefits my children, with women who I admire and enjoy--that's a dream come true.  This is what volunteering should be about.

I Have an Obligation to Vote

Today is election day.  Last night, I talked about the ballot measures with DG, read some blogs with various picks on the candidates and issues, marked my ballot, and placed it in a place in my work bag that I know will make it out the door.  Ever since I was 18 years old, I have voted in every national primary and general election.  I feel I have an obligation to vote--as a citizen, a woman, an educator, and a mother.

Don't worry. I'm not going to get all political on you.  I would describe myself as not very political at all.  I'm not that person at a party who starts a conversation with, "Can you believe what those yahoos are doing in congress?"  I quietly have my beliefs and try to stay out of the conversation. Except for those ubiquitous bashing political ads.  Hate them.  Kinda makes my stomach turn, and even more detrimental, makes me shut down and become mistrusting.  Political rally-er, I am not.

But if you really think about it, most people practice things in their lives that can be construed as a little political.  As moms, we make decisions about what we're going to feed our children--to breastfeed or not--organic or not.  We make decisions about education--public or private school.  To others around us, these decisions can be seen as a progression of our political agenda. It's based on our values, the way we want our children to have the best lives they can--often better than the lives we've had.  I mean, even as a member of the PTA, I am a part of an organization that lobbies for children and good education practices.  As moms, we are our children's best proponents.

As a college professor, I try to let my students know that voting is one of the most important things they can do to advance their own beliefs.  So many of my students in the suburban community college where I work feel like voting is something they don't feel qualified to do.  They're just 18.  They don't understand the propositions or the smear campaigns of the candidates (well, let's face it--who does?).  And I tell them that is precisely the point of college.  To learn about their world and to have a say in its future.  They say, "But no matter what I say, politicians are going to do whatever they want, so voting or not--it doesn't matter."  Arrggghh, I sigh.  Apathy.  No, no, no.  Imagine what leaders might do if you did not have a voice.  Voting assures that differing opinions are brought to everyone.  Your voice matters.

I read a quote by Thomas Paine that says, "Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom must undergo the fatigue of supporting it."  Fatigue means work.  The suffragists were tireless in their efforts.  As a woman, I feel I owe it to them to learn about a campaign and vote.  I have a responsibility to support my freedom and the right that they fought so hard to gain.

So today, when I pick up my kids, we'll march over to the polling booths, place the ballot in the little hole-puncher-thingy (I know, I think that's the official name for it), and fulfill my obligation.  Whatever the outcome of the election, I feel good knowing that I am modeling good citizenship for my children.  Who knows, I might even hand over that little "I Voted" sticker to them.

"She said what?!?!" -- Confessions of a Mom-Gossip

Many of my friends and I became mothers around the same time.  Most of my closest friends these days are those who I met when my kids were babies.  It's funny because I seem to be looking, constantly searching for camaraderie, from people who share my experience or who have been through the same experience so that I can learn from them.  But I'm learning a valuable lesson from this searching.  No one shares your exact same experience, and while other mothers will have struggles with the same issues I struggle with, I can't base my actions or opinions on what others' actions are.  I must make my own way. 

I say this because I've been thinking a lot about how moms tend to be in competition with each other over the best way to nurture, feed, educate, and even diaper their children (see the discussion over at Mommywords.)  One mom feeds her children only nutritious food with nary a sugary snack in sight and only organic fruits and vegetables; another mom attachment-parents her baby while another is Ferber-ing and night weaning; in the last 2 decades, the classic SAHM vs. working mom debate has reached mammoth proportions; public school, private school, home school; television or not.  It's constant--everywhere--especially in the blogosphere.

I have found myself caught up in this gossip mill sometimes.  I've said, "I would NEVER...." and "I can't believe she...."  I've searched like-minded individuals who have shared my opinions and unknowingly, under the guise of making more sense and resolve out of my own decisions, have bashed unsuspecting mothers whose choices are different from mine.  I've made comments based on my beliefs without thinking about how others might feel criticized.  This behavior has weighed very heavy on my mind lately.  I feel so badly about my past gossipy tendencies, and I am making a change. 

My daughter has very strong opinions and never hesitates to voice them as she sees fit.  I practice reflecting her feelings back to her, in a very neutral way, so that she knows she's been heard and acknowledged.  However, I almost always follow that reflective listening with a "but...." and then spew forth my own opinion and rationalization or belief that is meant to get her to think beyond her feelings and see my point of view.  Eliminating the "but..." is part of my new change in relating to other moms.  I don't think it's productive to echo a mom's feelings about how she's coping with some new dramatic change in her child's behavior/health/education and then negate it all with a "but....here's what I think...."

I'm not saying that I don't want to hear how others are coping and even get suggestions, like I mentioned above.  I want to know what you've done that works for you.  Maybe it would work for me too.  What I'm making a conscious effort to do now is see everyone's path for what it's worth.  We all want the same basic thing--to help our children grow into strong, independent, confident beings who navigate the social waters like experienced sailors using all the tools taught to them by the experienced sailors before them.  It's my job to be the example I want them to follow.  I can't very well teach my twins how to treat others the way they want to be treated if I'm engaging in clandestine character assassination.  I need to be done judging.

In "Bad Mother" Aleyet Waldman discusses how she saw her first "bad mother" on a train--a woman who pulled her daughter's hair as she was putting it into a ponytail.  She relays how she was mortified at how this woman could do such a thing, in public, no less.  She says we moms are constantly trying to live up to some unrealistic expectation and when we see others who fail to meet that expectation, we judge them.  I've judged and been judged, and I really want to let that drama go from my life.  Waldman says the definition of a reasonable good mother is, "one who loves her kids and does her level best not to damage them in any permanent way. A good mother doesn't let herself be overcome by guilt when she screws up."

This is my goal for today--I'm gonna try not to screw it up, but if I do, I'm gonna cry to you, who will lift me up, and I won't feel guilty about it.