The F Word

                Recently (okay, yesterday), I had one of those days best characterized by the F word.  You know the one- Failure.  I don’t mean failure in the sense of a bad letter grade on an exam- and generally that’s never been an issue for me (with the exception of my 8^th Grade Advanced Social Studies Class, and frankly I’m still waiting for the day where I have a real-life need to be able to label the states AND their capitals on a completely blank map).  No, I mean it was one of those days where it became abundantly clear that if someone were to grade me on the job I was doing in each of the many, many roles I perform these days, the results would likely be on par with that stupid geography test.

                I think we all have those days where we feel like a complete failure, so I don’t want to bore you with the precise details of my personal shortcomings, but hear me out for a moment.  On any given day, I am, among many other things: a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend, a cook, a lawyer, and a writer.  Over the last week, I learned that my oldest daughter has a potentially serious health issue which I should’ve caught earlier (failure as a mom); I totally spaced Rosh Hashanah, a hugely important holiday for my Jewish husband (failure as wife); my grandma ended up in a hospital and I wasn’t able to offer much comfort or any assistance to my mom because I was so caught up in my own stuff (failure as a daughter); a good friend came to me with a serious problem and I again, wasn’t able to offer much comfort or help because of my own issues (failure as a friend); I fed my family PB&N (that’s peanut butter and nutella, for you folks whose kids actually eat jelly) for lunch AND dinner (failure as a cook); I had my first ever less-than-satisfied client (failure as a lawyer), and instead of working on final edits for a novel set to go out to editors soon, I spent my time writing one that isn’t needed any time soon (failure as a writer).  I assure you that my house was also messy, my dog didn’t get walked, and I ate an obscene amount of sugar during this time too, so please don’t think my failures were limited to those isolated (but HUGE) screw ups.

                It didn’t help that I spent all day yesterday in continuing education seminars listening to a variety of accomplished lawyers, economists, and activists discuss issues of environmental injustice and toxic torts law.  Not only is that a really depressing subject with no practical solution, but it made me feel like even more of a failure.  It really offers perspective to know that 600,000 people in Haiti were sickened from cholera due to an oversight by the UN in 2010, millions of people are still suffering from the effects of the notorious Agent Orange in Vietnam, and locally, racial minorities are still significantly more likely to live in areas with horrific air quality than Caucasians.  There are attorneys out there fighting to wrong these injustices—waking up every day to work their asses off at low paying jobs with virtually no hope of ever reaching a satisfying outcome because, as I said, there are no clear solutions to these issues.  Meanwhile, what do I do with the law degree I earned—graduating at the top of my class?  Oh right….I blog, write romance novels, and occasionally draft legal briefs for other attorneys. 

                I keep reading in various sources how we all feel like failures more often these days and the overwhelming response is to blame social media.  That’s not what I’m going to do.  I don’t need a picture of a Pinterest-perfect house to tell me mine is messy.  I’m well aware that hot dogs and fruit snacks are a shoddy school lunch even before I see Facebook posts from other moms showing mini quiches and a mélange of fresh berries in their kid’s bento box (you know who you are S.R.).  I don’t feel like a failure because I have instant access to images of the most perfect moment’s of the lives of others; no, I feel like a failure because, well, sometimes I am.  And that’s okay.

                When I’m feeling overwhelmed, it calms me to see the newborn photos you upload to Instagram.  When I’m sad, I want to read the hilarious and adorable thing your preschooler did that you’ve posted on Facebook.  And when I’m feeling like a screw up, I want to see the kickass Frozen palace you crafted from fondant for your daughter’s fifth birthday. 

I’ve come to peace with the fact that I’m not the best at everything (or quite likely, anything), but I’m pretty decent at a lot of stuff.  Part of the benefit of having friends (be it real friends or social media “friends”) is that I can live vicariously through your successes.  I’ve accepted that more likely than not, none of my close friends will ever be president, cure cancer, discover a new planet, or save the environment.  But I damn well expect to see some more practical achievements by you guys. 

 

So, keep on posting photos of that tile backsplash you did all by yourself.  Tell me about your diet successes.  Upload as many pics of your last vacation as you want.  Show me a full month’s worth of organic, preservative and dye-free school lunches.  Brag about your promotion at work.  Let me see every zoo-themed cupcake you cranked out for the bake sale last week. 

I know that none of you have Pinterest-perfect lives all the time, but I want to see the moments where you do have it all together…because your successes cheer me up and remind me of my own days where I’ve done anything but fail.

 

Here's to a better tomorrow...

101 Ways to Make Mischief

Today I have a guest writer.  Her name is Katherine. I know, I know.  I’m less than a week into this new blogging effort and already I’m delegating, but bare with me.  Katherine would like to share some of her tricks.

1.        First, these tips work best if you are young- a year and a half old is perfect.

2.       These tips also work best if you are small for your age, under 20 pounds makes many of these feats slightly more impressive to the big people.

3.       When Mommy starts vacuuming, scream like you’re being eaten by a lion.  She will pick you up.

4.       Once Mommy resumes vacuuming, this time while holding you, play peek-a-boo by pulling her hair completely over her eyes.

5.       When this game gets boring, suddenly lean back as far as you can.  Mommy will shriek and set you down before she drops you.  Then, when she starts vacuuming again without picking you up, return to Tip 4.  Repeat this sequence until she abandons the vacuuming mission.

6.       Learn how to open doors.  Do this in secret.  Never let a grown up see you open a door.

7.       Learn how to climb out of—and back into—your crib.  Do this in secret too.  Never let a grown up see you perform either of these tasks.

8.       Scream and point accusingly at other children during playgroup whenever they have a toy you want.  This is easier than stealing their toy because their mommy will assume they took the toy from you and will hand it to you.

9.       Gnaw on table legs or any furniture that looks fancy.

10.   Climb onto tables whenever you have the chance.  But only if someone is looking.  Do not waste this effort on an empty room.

11.   When Mommy looks more frustrated than normal, hug her tightly and smile so she can see all your baby teeth. 

12.   When Mommy is on the phone, quietly open the basement door.  Inch down the stars carefully on your stomach.  Once you reach the bottom, stretch out face-down on the floor and start screaming frantically.

13.   Try to stand whenever Mommy attempts to put you in your car seat.

14.   If Mommy successfully gets you seated in your car seat, arch your back, flail your arms and legs, and scream like you’re being kidnapped before she can buckle you.

15.   Whenever you are in your car seat, remove your shoes and socks.  Throw your socks, then put your shoes back, but on the wrong feet.

16.   Every couple of weeks, put your shoes back on the right feet.  Mommy will be so accustomed to switching them that she will do this—then putting them on the wrong feet herself.

17.   Wedge your pacifiers between the mattress and bars of your crib.  Cry when they are all hidden.

18.   Take all of your Mommy’s shoes from her closet and put them in your crib.  Do this daily, whenever Mommy is distracted for a moment.

19.   Sample, then spill, any drink you can reach.  If you can’t reach, climb something.

20.   Learn the words to “Let it Go.”  When Mommy appears to be reconsidering her anti-spanking stance, belt out a few lines in your sweetest voice.

21.   Wait until the house is quiet and climb out of your crib.  Gather all the diapers from your room and toss them into your crib one at a time.  Climb back into your crib and fall asleep, smiling with anticipation at how mad Mommy will be at your sisters when she blames them for this in the morning.

22.   Open the pantry door.  Climb the shelves until you reach the open box of Brown Rice.  Do NOT get distracted by the fruit snacks.  These are a decoy!  Take the box and hold it upside down.  Once you notice rice falling out, start to run without dropping the box.  By the time Mommy catches you, there will be a nice trail.

23.   Break your food into small bits at dinner.  Throw some to the dog. 

24.   Insist on feeding yourself yogurt.  Since you are so small for your age, Mommy will do almost anything to get you to eat.  Smear half of the yogurt in your hair.  Finger paint with the rest.

25.   Never poop all at once.  Exercise the utmost self control so that you only poop enough to get your diaper changed.  Once the clean diaper is on, poop some more.

26.   Speaking of poop, try doing it in the bath every once in a while, ideally when bathing with your sisters.

27.   On occasion, help Mommy out by changing your own diaper.  Remove the dirty one, but don’t waste tons of wipes.  Scoot along the carpet to clean yourself instead.  Bring Mommy the clean diaper.  Cry sorrowfully when she doesn’t act appreciative.

28.   When you wear a dress, remove your diaper but don’t tell anyone.  Then when you are out in public, pee.  Giggle with excitement at Mommy’s surprise when she gets all wet.

29.   Splash uncontrollably in the tub.  If any soap gets near you, splash harder.

30.   Blow a kiss to Mommy when she shrieks with frustration.

31.   Do something really cute until Mommy gets her camera.  Then go cross-eyed or cry.

32.   Whenever you see paper with lots of words written on it, lick the paper until it smears into a beautiful picture.

33.   Insist on being held whenever Mommy is cooking. 

34.   Once she picks you up, snatch various utensils from her hands.

35.   Find a pen or marker.  Use it to color on furniture. 

36.   Put everything in your mouth.  The tinier the better.

37.   Better yet, wait till Mommy is watching and pretend to put small objects in your mouth.  Secretly hide the objects in your sleeves instead.

38.   Drop things in the toilet.  Shiny electronic things that beep are good, but so is jewelry.

39.   If Mommy asks where something is, run to the toilet and look in, even if you know the missing item is really in her purse.  Bonus points if you do the palms-up “who knows” gesture.

40.   Look at Mommy and say “pretty” when she is about to yell.

41.   Make a concentrated effort to learn to skip.  When Mommy says it’s time to leave the park, skip.  This will buy you an extra ten minutes of playtime.

42.   You know those vents in the floor that air comes out of?  Use them like drains.  Pour liquids in them.  Or sand, beads, or other small objects.

43.   Stand cooperatively next to Mommy when you play outside.  Then once she turns her back, run!

44.   At playgrounds, climb up the steps and then immediately go down the baby slide several times.  Once Mommy sits down on the bench instead of hovering over you, race towards the top of the fireman pole on the climber and pretend you’re going to jump.

45.   Tug hard on any jewelry Mommy wears.  It should snap off into your hands.

46.   Never hold still for a diaper change.  But vary your movements so Mommy never knows what to expect next.

47.   When Mommy is on the phone, scream randomly like you’re in pain.

48.   When you are in public, hang on Mommy’s leg until her pants start to fall down.

49.   Whenever you’re in the stroller, remove one shoe and, being as stealthy as possible, drop it when Mommy isn’t looking.  Wait five minutes before getting her attention, pointing to your bare foot, and saying “shoe.”

50.   Wait till Mommy pauses to catch her breath in between screaming and say “I wuv you.”

51.   Never finish anything you start.  This applies to food, puzzles, crafts, and blog posts.

 

Stay tuned for Tips 52-101

Chatting With a Four Year Old

                Recently, my husband and I were in the market for patio materials.  Knowing it would be a lengthy shopping venture and that my only role was to approve the paver selection, we drove separately.  Miraculously, I ended up with only one child—the elusive middle child—in the car I was driving.

                As I cruised off towards Menards, I cranked up the radio, assuming I was embarking on a peaceful, pleasant drive where I didn’t have to listen to overly detailed stories of first grade or repeatedly reach blindly into the backseat to retrieve tossed pacifiers for a fussy baby.  But before we were out of our neighborhood, my sweet Samantha began talking.  Here’s the gist of the conversation:

                “Hey mommy?”

                “Yes?”

                “Can you turn the radio down?  I want to sing Frozen for you.”

                Sigh.  “Sure.”

                “Snow blows cold on the mountainside, not a footprint… Hey mommy?”

                “Yes?”

                “Are you listening?”

                “Yes.”

                “Do you like Frozen?”

                “It’s got some good parts.” (Sidebar- do NOT ever tell your daughters you think Tangled has a better soundtrack than Frozen.  This comment will launch them into a tirade longer than both movies combined and will make you wish you had Rapunzel-length hair that you could strangle yourself with.)

                “Yeah.  It’s pretty good.  I like the song “Roar” too.  You know, because it’s what a tiger does.  Or a lion.  Is it a lion?  Hey, have I singed that song for you about the fieldtrip?  You know, where the little kid climbs into the lions cage and he roars?  It’s definitely about a lion.  Can Katherine sing ‘Call Me Maybe’?”

                “I don’t know.  Maybe you should teach her.”

                “Is that Bieber?” (she’s clearly realized I never turned the radio off—just switched it to the front speakers only).  “I used to like Bieber.  Do you like Bieber?  Hey what about Ryan?  I don’t know if Ryan is still my boyfriend.  Probably I will still marry him.  Well, him or maybe that Alex.  But only if he stops biting me when I take his toy.  That is not nice.  Ryan is always nice.  Except I never see him anymore because his class is a different class from mine.  He’s not in the ladybug class.  He’s a sailor.  Hey, mommy?”

                Sigh.  “Yep?”

                “Are pirates real?”

                I hesitate.  “Yes.”

                “Of course they are.  Would you vote for a pirate?  If he wanted to be mayor?  If he was a nice pirate?”  She barely paused.  “No!  Don’t.  It’s a trick.  When a pirate pretends to be nice, that’s how you know he’s not nice.  Except Izzy, she’s a nice pirate.  Not our neighbor Izzy, the one on Jake and the Neverland Pirates.  Izzy is nice too though.  Why isn’t our basement finished?  Izzy’s is finished and it is a playroom.”

                “We have a playroom.”

                “But we should have one in the basement too.  We could put a flag in it.  Did you know I can say the Pledge of Allegiance?  I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.  And to the republic where witches stand, one nation, under god…  Mom?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Sometimes I think you don’t listen to me.”

                “Hmm.”

                “Are mermaids real?”

                “What do you think?”

                “I’ve never seen one.”

                “Just because you haven’t seen something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

                “Yeah, I guess that’s so, because I haven’t seen any unicorns and they are real.  I’m opposed to draw one for school tomorrow.”

                “Supposed,” I correct.

                “What do you suppose?”

                “Nevermind.”

                “Yeah, because mommy, those gummy vitamins from Jake and the pirate show, they aren’t even nice, and they are supposed to taste good so you don’t know you’re eating fish flavors and stuff.  Are we almost there?  I have to go potty.  And not to pee.”

                “I’m driving as fast as I can.”  Trust me.

                “Do you have my underpants?”

                “Why would I have your underpants?  Aren’t you wearing them?”

                “Nope.  Doesn’t look like it.  Huh.  Weird.  Maybe Katherine took them.”

                Yep, folks, that was four minutes of my life.  Multiply this by 300 and you can imagine my day.