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Showing posts from February, 2008

How Will They Ever Survive?

By 8:45 am this morning, I had already decided that I suck as a mother. It was that kind of morning. Here are the things that led me to this conclusion:

• It started last night, when I was too tired to give the girls a bath. I decided that I would give them a bath in the morning, before school. Who was I kidding? When exactly was that going to happen? What was I smoking? Anyway, the bath did not happen, big surprise, which meant that I had three little girls who were overdue for a bath and all of them would be out in public today.

• I couldn't find a hairbrush to save my life, which meant that I had three little girls, plus one bed-headed mommy, who were going to go through the day with little rats' nests on top of their heads. I used a comb on Lola's hair -- one of those thick ones with teeth that bow out slighty on alternating sides of the comb. It's slightly better than a regular comb, but it was still just this side of torture on her poor little head. I pul…

I'm Not Ready for This

My son is in 3rd grade. THIRD GRADE. He is 9. Most of his classmates are 8, turning 9. He is young.

So I am not ready for the things that are happening in his "social circle." He struggles a little bit, socially; he has a couple of great buddies, but he's the kind of kid who really cares what other people think, so he worries about whether or not the kids in his class like him or not.

There is one kid in particular whom he has a hard time with. Today, he told me that this kid is his friend now. I asked him how things changed. He said that most of the kids in his class don't like him and that this kid (I'll call him Bobby) is helping him get the other kids to like him. OK, unpleasant enough. But what was next?

"Bobby says I need a girlfriend."

Me: "Why?"

"Because if I got a popular girl to like me, the way that girls like 'Bobby,' then I would be popular too."

The difficult thing about these conversations with him is…

Fun Monday: Raising 5, Feeding 5

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Fun Monday for today, hosted by Mariposa, asks us two questions: Where did the name of our blog come from, and what is our favorite or most common dish.

OK, so the name of my blog comes from the fact that I am raising five children. There, wasn't that fascinating? Well, I guess there is a teensy bit more. When I first started blogging (not that long ago, just this past September), I was feeling like I stumbled on this amazing world of blogs and every where I turned, I was suddenly noticing blogs. So I started blogging with the name "Here a Blog, There a Blog, Everywhere a Blog, Blog." Kind of long, kind of obvious. I didn't really like it.

Then one night my husband, who has given me lots of good ideas for this blog, suggested the name "And I'll Raise You 5." I immediately liked it and changed it. Since lots of what I write about, and most of what I think about, and most of how I spend my time is related to those five little gems, it seemed fitting…

Independence is Annoying

Here's a little piece of advice for those of you just starting on the parenting journey, and looking forward to the joy of sharing new experiences with your baby, of watching her learn how to do new things. DON'T RUSH IT.

Independence in a toddler can be a frustrating and annoying reality.

Tried to have a nice time tonight with the girls. I had a mountain of dishes to wash from the minestrone soup I made for dinner multiplied by all of the lunch and snack dishes undone all day. And I thought it would be fun to put on some dancin' music and rock out with my daughters while gettin' busy with the suds. A few weeks ago, I taught Elizabeth how to use the remote control to the radio/CD player in the kitchen, thinking it was so cute how she could make the thing work on her own. The chickens came home to roost tonight, though, and made a mess all over my dance party.

We were having a nice time, but then she decided she needed "some animals" and she put the music …

Just Say No to Exclamation Points

Note to self: Avoid exclamation points! Or rather, avoid exclamation points. I have decided that this seemingly innocuous punctuation mark is evil.

The other day, right after the big beef recall, Rick and I were watching the news reports about the inhumane treatment of the cattle, and the station we were watching flashed large letters across the screen reading: "POSSIBLE CONTAMINATION!" The use of the exclamation point seemed manipulative; it made the news feel more like propaganda than news, and we were both turned off. I suppose that news companies are trying every which way they can to grab their share of the market; I just wish they could do it without exclamation points. Don't exclamation points convey a touch too much emotional energy to have a place in objective journalism?

A day or two later, I was making my to-do list, which is, as usual, way too long for one mere mortal. Good thing I am actually a superhero; according to Lola, I am ElastaGirl (from The I…

Talking to Myself

I can be the kind of mother I want to be, the kind I know will raise my children to be well and happy. That kind of mother is somewhere inside of me.

Take time to talk and listen.
Don't yell.
Don't scream.
Be patient: they are still learning.

Breathe.

Don't fight them. Help them negotiate the world by giving them confidence.
Give them confidence by making them safe.