Threats n' Bribes....

[Click on Charts to read the fine print] My mama always said that raising kids is just "threats n' bribes, threats n' bribes..." which is a pretty simple philosophy considering all the tomes written on raising children. I've known this, but haven't been applying the "bribe" portion very well.

You see, just about every mom I know of is struggling with their kids right now. For me, it was the battle with the 5 yr old over throwing away Sam's stinky diapers. The feelings of guilt that swarmed every confrontation, not to mention his pleas for a play date were just getting to me because I didn't want to add ONE MORE KID to the mess I was dealing with! Then I noticed my sister had a very simple notebook paper "chart" on her fridge. So, I asked her about it.

"Allen (her husband) made that. When she's good, she moves forward a space, and when she's naughty, she moves back. Too far back and she'll end up on her bed..."

"What happens if she gets to the end?"

"Oh, she gets a package of M&M's..."

So SIMPLE! And a cheap bribe too! It eliminates motherly commentary on behavior, "What is WRONG with YOU TODAY!" and just simply, and emotionlessly, inflicts a consequence. BAM, you moved back a space. Wanna go another?
So, I made up a chart for my two kids. Service and being ready on time gets you points, sass & backchat moves you back. I printed it off, got some of those cheapie flat magnets off the fridge and had it all laminated together so it sticks on the fridge. Each kid has their own magnet to move forward and back.

Has it worked?!


YES! We have had two play dates, and the kids are excited now to get a point for any ole thing. My kids very own chart is probably the crappiest of the three, but I've been happy to switch the template and help others with their chidlren to gain some ground in the serenity department.

Cost? One bag of M&M's. Threats n' bribes baby, threats n' bribes...

Organize This!

We have been chasing keys for awhile - you look at them and think, "What is THIS one to?" and in sum, we have lost some that we really needed.

Tonight, my SIL Em and I had a polishing party, where we did keys! The downstairs to my house has many wonders that can be pillaged unchecked, so we have locks on the following doors:

1) The furnace room: you wouldn't THINK a kid would want to play in there, but you'd be wrong!

2) The Harry Potter closet a.k.a The Christmas Closet: This one, of course is the closet under the stairs, and it has all of our Christmas decorations/tree and festive knick knacks.

3) The toy closet. Due to incredibly generous friends, neighbors and family, we have accumulated quiet a few toys, games, and puzzles. I like my kids to have them, but not all at the same time, so this closet - along with Mom's vintage clothing, is also locked.

Throw in a house key, back door key, keys to different cars, old keys, keys to locks not currently in use, and you start to see a lot of silver! So, just like a girls night out, Em and I pulled out her collection of fingernail polish and stickers. We had a blast putting on base coats and colors with teeny decorations to our various keys. The result is that they look fabulous! AND - they are all different colors! AND, we now know which keys are duplicates, which ones go to what closet, and where we're going to store them.

It's a small step in the key department, but a big relief for our overall organization. Now we can finally open the furnace room which has also been lacking organization and get started on that. And I have Em's fabulous nail polish and sticker collection to thank. It's smooth sailing in the door department, and all because we got our heads together and had a painting party. Genius!

Thoughts on 38

Having just celebrated my 38th birthday, I've tried to think about what it "means" to be this old. I know that when I was a kid, and I met someone this old, you knew that they were an adult. You assumed that they could/would tell you what to do, and had attained just about all the knowledge they were ever gonna get.

They could drive, and have kids, and make dinner. And though I didn't know the in's and outs, I pretty much knew that an adult could buy ANYTHING they wanted. They could own every Strawberry Shortcake doll, plus the Berry Berry house, AND the scratch n' sniff stickers! Though they never ever EVER seemed to want to. Which was weird to me. I KNEW in my heart that I could spend money better than my folks. I would skip the phone bill and get all the cool toys.

Much wiser, I know how little I know about the world we live in, it's history, and what the future holds. So what has 38 years taught me? Well, here's a sampling:

Driving is scary. I fear for my kids lives every time we get in the car. There are some stupid people out there, and I have seen trucks run into cars, cars slide off the road, and even overturned cars that make my heart skip a beat.

The garage is one of the best cleaning investments. You see it every day, and it will stay cleaner than nearly any other part of the house.

Kids are not handed out on merit. I know many terrific people that struggle, or will never have biological children of their own. They seem to deserve kids more than some thoughtless kids who are in no way prepared to bring children into the world, and don't care.

Learnin to spel helps others understand you easily - and wearing clothes isn't just identity, it shows the world that you give a modicum of a darn about how you present yourself to them. Tuck in underwear - no one wants to see your panties, and beware of those who do want to see them - their intentions are not good. Don't physically damage yourself for fashion. Be gentle with the elderly.

If it is kind, it is always best to think out loud: I love that shirt! Your hair is super cute today! What a cute baby you have! I want to look like you do in those jeans. The most secure and put-together people are surprised that others think well of them without wanting anything in return, "Can I have yo number?".

Giving stuff to Goodwill is 99.9% always a good idea. I can count on one hand the number of things I've given away in 38 years and wish I had back. I can't think of one right now...

Instead of hoping for a boys or girls, it is wiser to hope for good kids, whatever they are!

The best way to secure laziness is to be supremely organized.

Everyone, at some point, will disappoint you - even God (though he may have the best intentions for doing so out of everyone...). Unless it's a toxic relationship, you forgive and forget, then remember that you too have disappointed people. Move on and be better friends tomorrow.

If you think, "Gosh I love you!" then say it as soon as you think it! Make a shortcut from your brain to your mouth. And say why. It is water to a parched soul, and no one is ever told enough that they are loved. Never.

Art is not a luxury. Keep yourself surrounded by the beauty that moves you - even if you can only afford the print.

Try to smile at yourself in the mirror instead of hunt for flaws. Children do, and adults don't.

Wherever possible, buy a balloon for your kid. You never need an excuse to have a balloon...

Help elderly and handicapped people without being asked. A simple, "Can I help you with that, " doesn't cost anything, and brings out the best in humanity.

Birthdays are a big deal. Even if doesn't end in a zero. Thanks to everyone who made mine spectacular!

What We're Having...

Let me start off by saying that this baby was a surprise. I was 10 1/2 weeks along before even considering that perhaps this nagging "flu" the kids had given me, might be something more. As soon as we confirmed it, I threw up. Ooooohhhh, the excitement.

Though we are backing into this, it is with great anticipation that we welcome #4. I was fairly certain that I knew the sex too. A girl. I was right with my first, Abigail. Then Benjamin, I predicted with my inner pregnancy eye, had to be a girl as well. As did Sam. And after my OB confirmed my suspicions a few months ago, saying that he was 60% sure that THIS one was a girl, it all seemed to fall into place.

Why? Because the Good Lord knows that I DO girls. I do hair, I do ruffles, I do ribbons & tutus. I do clothing colors that match skin tone, and I also did summer camp with 10 JAP's ten-year olds rather successfully.

Abigail's younger girl cousins have been enjoying a plethora of Daisy Kingdom dresses with sparkles, tulle skirts, bloomers and full slips. I also have ample advice on getting that perfect 'do. (Put 'em on the edge of the sink with their feet IN the sink so the fear of falling makes them not squirm as much when you do their hair...). I am courted by Gymboree, Wooden Soldier, Pottery Barn Kids, and Chasing Fireflies. So, the two boys were a surprise - but we worked it all in.

You see, in my 17-yr-old Life's Plan, I figured that it would play out this way; marry the awesome guy (check!), then have 4 kids in this order: girl, girl, boy, & girl. Putting the boy between two girls would ensure that he was raised to put the seat down and flush, or face their communal wrath. So, the girl, boy, boy was... not as planned, but okay. This last one was sure to finish out the set. Even Stevens. Two of Each. Matthew thought so as well. It's time for a girl... TLC, Tatiana Lisbon Crane. :D
So, ultrasound day, the sunny sonographer asked if we wanted to know what we're having. Heck yes! Show us that cute face! So, she goes immediately to the area and announces: it's a boy! (Imagine here a really long pause that can only be described as shock...) My three sons. You could have knocked me off the table with a feather - I nearly fell without the feather.

What the HECK! My last child will be a fashion dead end of bugs, dinosaurs, jobs and automobiles? The balance has shifted, irrevocably, to more males than females?! This is WACK. Matthew has 5 sisters and 1 brother! I have 3 sisters and 2 brothers. I did the math! The odds were in my favor!

I don't understand the Eternal Meaning of all this, but this is for certain; there's gonna be a lot of scouting in my future. Camp-outs and Pine Wood Derbies. The triumvirate of S's: Spit, Sports, & Scatological humor. All three boys will be within 5 years of each other. Based on the first boy, I believe that they will, collectively, destroy the house... all together; all at once. I'm cringing already. But, if they even THINK of rabbit hunting, i.e. dating a young, stupid airhead, they will go into an immediate course of Women's Studies from their mama.

But, for awhile, this baby will be mine. He will get loves and cuddles. I will swing him around, laugh with him, and tickle his tummy. He'll wear hats with bear ears, matching outfits, and have to put up with mom kissing him a lot. He'll be my baby, and our last. Welcome Lil' Baby Boy, to our nutty family. Hang on tight, and brace yourself, you're gonna fit right in kiddo - simply because you have no choice. :D

Purging in Times of Desperation & Pregnancy

It doesn't happen often, but every once in awhile, I get the itch to do a closet purge. Maybe this time it's because I still have capris in my drawer... in December, or perhaps the fact that being five months pregnant has caught up with me, but truly, the catalyst was the mountain of laundry that is taking over an entire room. "Zackanista! - Enough!"

Now, I don't know about you, but for me there are two kinds of purges. The first is the benign, "Eh, this doesn't fit/I don't like it/I don't want to wear it anymore." This is a harmless purge. A happy purge! Its usually done when you are making room for something better, something new, - something you like. The second kind though is awful. It is the gut wrenching, ugly truth-telling, reality-check, kind of purge. And this is what I did today.

Fashionistas and Clutter Control agents alike will tell you that the easiest way to purge a closet is to:
A) Get rid of the trash - for severe clutter cases where Snickers wrappers and empty cd cases are stored in clothing closets.
B) Get rid of things you no longer like/wear. And,
C) For those things that you aren't sure about , turn the hanger backwards, and after six months, if you haven't worn it - and turned the hanger around, simply pitch it.

My brain knows these steps and agrees that others should follow and comply with them. For my own closet though... it is a different story. I don't rotate my closet by seasons, I basically have it all there, all the time. My mom taught me to buy quality items that will LAST, not cheapie stuff that you have to get rid of every season because it has worn out. Pendleton over PennySaver.

So - here it goes. The ugly truth part. I. Have. Clothes from High School. A beloved Benetton sweater that I paid $88 for back in 1980... something. I also have a gorgeous lined wool skirt with a kick pleat that I look ROCKIN' in, when I'm under 150lbs. I got that in my early 20's, and I get compliments on MY butt just about every time I wear it. Especially at the Air Force Base. So, that's an early '90s item.

Needless to say, purging my closet is not a casual affair. I don't just go through random clothes and decide, "pitch/stay." It is like trying to get rid of investments. But, sadly, it has come to this. I steeled myself and admitted some difficult truths as I started pulling clothes off hangers from the back of my closet: I will NOT be needing this karate outfit from that one semester of college - not even for Halloween. All my karate moves are on a VHS tape that got ditched three moves ago. Even though this is a nice red suit and jacket, I hate the way the skirt makes my thighs look fat and how I'm always trying to yank the skirt down all of the 3 times I've worn it.

This warm, and gifted-from-a-missionary ethnic sweater, though warm, makes me look like a fat, hibernating, caterpillar. So I never wear it - and no one EVER wants to borrow it. Not even in sub-degree weather. Eh, this skirt. Even if I WAS thin again, I would put this skirt on once, and then indulge in something better. And, ohhhh, forgive me mom. The orchestra skirt you made me. I wore it through college, and just don't see when I'm gonna wear it again. I've moved it from coast to coast for the past 12 years and haven't worn it once. Not once. *sigh*

This went on for AN HOUR! I winnowed out about 2/3 of my closet. No one will really notice, because I have not worn most of this stuff for years, and no one has ever begged to help me clean out my closet and pick up on some of my great stylin' clothes - from two decades ago.

I will be severely hurting come spring, but for right now, I know I've done the right thing in getting rid of the hot pink shirt that is not-so-hot, and was bought on sale. I am down to ONE denim shirt, and it is stained, but it is my favorite. The wire hangers are in a bundle, ready to bless the lives of someone else, and I have a solid plastic hanger closet. And now I am ready to go to the basement and haul up all my "expec-TENTS." They will go between my Benetton sweater and my green wool skirt.

Yes, I will need to have this baby, get the flu, diet for a long time, run the circumference of the earth, and develop a dislike for chocolate, learn to sweat, sweat and more sweat until the layers come off. Is it likely? Not really, but hey, the Red Sox won the series. It can happen! Just as soon as I shake this "Curse of the Bambinos!" But for now. I'll just be thankful that I survived a Defcon 2 Closet Purge.

Santa is a Woman...

SANTA SPOILER WARNING!

I know that the traditional view we take of Santa is a fat, old, jolly man, but I have come to believe, at least among my acquaintances, that Santa is a woman. Everything that Santa does requires rather feminine traits: Intense listening, plotting, and planning ahead - not to mention doing it all in one night with nothing but a few cookies to keep you going. That doesn't even touch the PR (Christmas Cards), Party Planning, (aka Getting the Tree and Ornaments up and various tchotcke up around the house), and Calendar Coordination - for the inevitable, "What are you doing for Christmas/New Year's Eve?"

But what is the point of perpetuating such a farce? Is it simply because our mom's did it for us? Since they gave us a belief in magic, the impossible, and a caring universe, we should at least do the same for our own kids, right? Perhaps. But as I look at my motives, I actually think it all goes back to the main Spirit of Christmas; an imitation of something ancient and wonderful.

It stems from the belief that a loving Father in Heaven really did plan ahead for us, got us our souls most sincere desire, and delivered it quietly and inconspicuously to all of mankind in one night. He knew very well what we wanted and needed - to return to Him again, so that each of us could be together as a family forever.

He didn't ask for a lot of credit, He just asked that we believe in the gift of His son; that it was what we wanted, and was sent with a desire for us to be supremely happy. It was the best thing he could think of; someone to save us from sin, set a good example, and bring a spirit of love back into the world.

Imitation is the greatest form of flattery, and the motive for doing so is found in a favorite Christmas carol, "It Came Upon the Midnight Clear:

For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophets seen of old,
When with the ever-circling years
Shall come the time foretold,
When the new heaven and earth shall own
The Prince of Peace, their King,
And the whole world send back the song
Which now the angels sing.

So, we Santas of the world, send back to God His angelic song. Peace at home, good will to our friends and families, and a sense of wonder and magic that was first shown to us. We celebrate the spirit of the impossible, the magic and wonder of a generous soul who knows us by name, our deeds, and also who gives, who loves, and does not ask for perpetual credit, but rather asks that we be happy with what He chooses to send us. We are learning and imitating our Pere Noel, Father Christmas, Pai Natal, our Father in Heaven, and trying to become just like Him. All while eating some cookies. :D

So whether you are male or female, to me, if you don the traits of that Cloaked Man, then you send back that song first brought to us by a wondrous being. God who, daily, tries to send us gifts in quiet, anonymous ways. So, this year, I hope that we may take all the gifts given daily from our invisible benefactor, and send back to Him the same. In anonymous acts of love, silent prayers, and faith in Christ who wanted us to know that the future is bright. This is Christmas. And there is a Santa, for anyone who would try to be one.

Merry Christmas to all, and know that we send to you our love, gratitude and Christmas magic. Please, come on over and have a cookie!

New Calendar

I bought a new calendar today. 2010 "God Bless America." As obligations start bleeding into the new year, I'm running out of space for notes on my current calendar. The "Butter my Butt" one was *not* an option at Wal-Mart, but if anyone finds it, let me know how much it is.

There are two french sayings that I think of when plotting out a new year. The first one is a New Year's toast that says, "In the year to come, if there aren't any more of us, let there not be any less." I love New Calendar Day. A brand new chance for a brand new year. While perusing the $5 variety at Wal-Mart, the family was trying to decide between the beauties of America, tropical beaches, flowers, or Old Nauvoo. America won out on awesome photography and general consensus. Abigail made a push for Chihuahuas, Labradors and DEER. "But mom! You always point out the deer when we're driving!" Not in MY kitchen you don't. I'll take Mt. Rushmore and a salty bridge over a whole year of looking at dumb ole deer ANY day.

As I transition between years, I have to think if this is a freak-out year. Have we hit any certain milestones with expectations unmet; is it now too late to do something by a certain age? Nothing comes to mind. I got gray hairs and earned every one of 'em! I flip through the old tattered calendar, which like a pair of well worn shoes - the kind that is starting to rip and tear in places, and has definitely lost its glimmer - is looking really sad - especially when paired with the shiney new calendar. I flip through the months; good days, bad days, VT days, scouts, callings, short weekends, the endless house "to do" lists, and a sprinkling of doctor, dentist, and eye appts.

Each year, I'm handed a years worth of time, and it seems like so much. Then it gets eaten away with grocery trips, breakfast, lunch, dinner, laundry and sleeping. Some years less than others, but still. It's only when I step back from the rigmarole that I see that little by little, my kids have changed; I have changed. And it all happened in about a year's time. Kids lose that baby look, I can't seem to lose the baby fat, and I seem to be ever searching for when I can "just get a minute!" And it happens every year. Which reminds me of my second French phrase: Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. The more things change the more they stay the same.

So, here's to a fantastic 2010. One day at a time, and full to the brim. And if you are planning on having a baby, getting married, or having a significant event that you need me for, say so now - the calendar is filling up!