Adventures In Motherhood

Arriving at the outdoor swimming pool with my 8-year-old on this sweltering 96 degree day, I was relishing the opportunity to melt in the shade, all alone for once finishing a favorite Jenny Lawson memoir, while my son experimented swimming with his new birthday snorkel set. Unfortunately, summer camp kids and families with the same plan to cool off overtook the pool. Surveying the landscape, there was nary a chair in sight for this weary, anything-but-lazy mother who had just finished canoeing 5 miles in windy conditions with my 13-year-old for 'extreme forced family fun' (#FFF) on the Willamette River. I considered the hard swimming deck cement my consolation prize in motherhood. Spotting a chair near the elementary school summer campers sitting on their towels playing cards, I eagerly asked the camp counselor if it was taken. "Yes," she replied, "the boy who can't swim sits there." Dumbfounded, I struggled with this logic while the chair remained un...

I have always been a proponent of language in our house.  "Use your words," I constantly remind the children, "and stop pounding your brother!"  My daughter learned 'wild words' in 5th grade; multi-syllabic challenges to our vocabulary, like 'perseverance', we implemented at dinnertime.  Foreign languages expand brain development, so I've shared smatterings with my children over the years and successfully advocated for a Spanish and after-school French class at our school.  My tolerance for profanity, however, in a house full of children, is zilch.  As such,  I swear by the 'Sriracha Effect'! I always knew my children would learn more than George Carlin's 'Seven Dirty Words' on the playground.   Over the years I've cautioned my children, "Use swear words at school and I'll know!"  Initially, they figured it was because of my CIA training and skill in lie detection and surveillance, however, I reminde...

Drastic behaviors call for drastic measures and my children's reactions ranged from "Oh no, you didn't!" to "What does this mean?” as they stared dumbfounded at the sign posted on our refrigerator.  Observing the sheer chaos I had caused, I relished the pleasure of liberation.  While I have fantasized about posting a sign 'Mom's left for the Pacific Crest Trail', or 'Mom's on an Eat, Pray, Love International Adventure', carrying nothing more than a backpack and none of the worries that accompany parenthood, that was not the sign I posted that day.  Who hasn't dreamt of escape?  That Monday, I did the next best thing; I closed the kitchen, and experienced relief and validation.   I look forward to the 2-3 times per week that we can sit down as a family and enjoy a delicious meal I have thoughtfully prepared.  The other nights we are lucky to have a sandwich in the car as we race off to children's sports activities.  I affecti...