My face, my face, my face is on fire…

Some days it’s great to be a parent.

And some days it conjures up feelings quite like those you experience while having the “back in high school without your pants on” dream.  Yes, sweaty, red-faced, I kinda-want-to-puke feelings.  Like the time one of my children told the baby sitter that his mama told him that boys have penises and girls have “dirty chinas.” (You guessed it…she’s Asian.)  But that isn’t the story I wanted to tell you today.  Instead I would like to take you to Thing Two’s preschool for just a moment, if I could:

“Ms. ______, can I have a word with you?” asked the preschool administrator when I arrived to pick up Thing Two the other day.

Me: “Of course!” (Said in my best perky mom Fakey McFake-Fake everything’s peachy keen voice. In the meantime inner voice screams: Oh crap, what did he do, paint a fellow classmate against their will again? )

Uppity Admin: “One of our staff members overheard the kids singing a song out on the playground…one they told us was taught to them by your child. It was a tad…well, we deemed it just a bit inappropriate.”

Me: “Ohhhh…noooo…” (Inner voice says: This is B’s fault, I know it!  I wonder which lovely little ditty of his cause this debacle…I bet it was “I’m eating boogers.”  I’m seriously going to kill him…this is so embarrassing…)

Uppity Admin: “They were saying….I don’t remember the exact words, let me grab my assistant, he was with them when the incident took place.”:

Me: “Okay, no problem!” ( Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…wait…did she actually just say “song in question?” “INCIDENT?!” Give me a bre…)

Enter sheepish shit-eating grin teenaged-assistant-creature: “Hi.  Uhhh, yeah.  Do you want me to just, like, sing it for you?”

Me: “Umm, sure.” (Inner voice: please don’t let it be the diarrhea song!)

Smiling Ass (istant): “The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire…”

Me: “Oh man, I am so sorry, you can stop right there…” (Oops.  My cd. okay, I’ll repent.  No more of mommy’s music on the way to school, I’ll buy Sesame Street’s greatest hits or something, please just make this pimply faced rat stop singing at me before he gets to the cursing! )

Smiling Ass (istant): “the roof, the roof, the roof is on fire…”

Me: “No, really you don’t have to go on…I apologize, I’ll talk to him…”

Smiling Ass (istant): (I am pretty sure he is ENJOYING my pain at this point…) “We don’t need no water…”

And just in time for the grand finale of my humiliation, over hops the preschooler “in question” to add (at the top of his lungs, I might add):

“Let the mother pucker burn!”

Thanks, kid.

Happy Friday everyone.  Please, make me feel better by sharing some embarrassing moments of your own.  What has a child in your life done that mortified you?  Or perhaps you are young enough to remember your own mortifying childhood behaviors.  Share!  And have an amazing embarrassment free and fun-filled weekend!

Mother Nature is not my friend

Getting older sucks.

I know, I know…I am only 31 years old, I have no right to complain, blah-ditty-blah-blah-blah. Age is just a number, you are as old as you feel etc. etc.  Well guess what?  You all can take that pile of clichés and shove em up your…noses.  I have tried desperately to have a good attitude about this whole aging thing, but Mother Nature has been sabotaging me every step of the way.  No, seriously, she has!  I have proof.

Exhibit A: The belly bulge

Who decided that the thirties was the magical time for your metabolism to slip into permanent deep freeze, hmm?  I have to admit it, I have never been one to exercise regularly or eat a super healthy diet all the time.  Sometimes it’s a salad, but often it’s a burrito.  And sometimes I do Pilates and sometimes I…do not(eez…err).  So anyhow, this is how I was through all of my twenties and it was never a problem…but now, all of a sudden it most assuredly is a problem.  When I sit down there is…a… roll where there once was not.  Also if you see gravity hanging around tell it my ass wants to have a talk…

Exhibit B: The drinking dilemma

I cannot drink alcohol anymore.  Okay, I can, technically, but when I do my body punishes me…severely.  Now my tasty alcoholic beverage binges come with a side of headache and an extra helping of hung-the-hell over.  You guys want to know what I do on the so called “drinking holidays?”  I stay home where its safe, watching old movies and eating ice cream… ice cream that I have to chase with a Lactaid I might add. Which brings me to my next point…

Exhibit C:  Oatmeal forever?!

What the hell is happening with my digestive tract?  You guys have to understand, I have lived my entire life harboring a serious addiction.  This addiction is to chili peppers.  I have always loved my spicy foods, and truthfully I still do.  But they just don’t love me anymore; or more specifically, they have a vendetta against my innards.  I know, too graphic, I’ll stop there…you guys get the idea, right? I spend too much time on the toilet, tearfully dabbing at my ass with baby wipes.

Okay, NOW I’ll stop and move on to my last point…

Exhibit D:  “What the F@$! is that?!”

The weird mole living under my left armpit, the little valleys on my face where flat lands used to be, the two inch gray hair I found sticking out of the top of my head.  These are the things I affectionately call the “what the f@$! is that(s)?!”   I hate them.  I have waged war against them.  And while they might win said war I will make my stand at battle after battle; armed with my arsenal of dyes and creams and tweezers and what have you.  I will not go down without a fight.

No, Mother Nature…I won’t go quietly into the night.  I will struggle with every last breath in this old rickety body…(am I laying it on too thick?  Sorry…I’ll rein it in…) How am I waging war?  Glad you asked!

• Mine (male) concubine: Me: 31, him: 25.  Yes, I can still pull a guy 6 years my junior…so wipe that shocked look off your face. I cannot express to you how much I enjoy being with a younger man.  I am pretty sure the arrangement is mutually beneficial; I bring wisdom and experience to the table, and he brings stamina and vigor.  What I mean by all that is we have great sex.

• Teen Magazines. Don’t judge, there’s valuable information in there!  This month I learned “how to tell if he’s crushing on me,” whether I am more of a “Miley” or a “Selena” and how to make my “peepers pop”…or something. And I got a fold out poster of the Jonas Brothers too. ( Which reminds me…who the hell are the Jonas Brothers??)

• The mall. I have to admit, this one isn’t working out so well for me.  The local adolescents mostly either stare at me warily or ask me to buy them cigarettes at the ‘Tobacco Zone.’  Neither of these reactions are making me feel particularly vibrant.  Besides, we are in an economic crisis…should I really be tempting myself with all those shoes??

(Note to self…take mall out of “the plan.”)

• School Friends. I left school (way too) many years ago to try my hand at that whole marriage / stay at home mom thing. Now I have returned and I am one of those “non-traditional” college students.  What that means is my classmates are all several years younger than me.  SEVERAL.  As in, some of them can’t buy beer yet. But hey, they make me feel incredibly smart and I help them with their homework.  So it’s win/win.

• My kids. Nothing makes you feel as childlike as a day of swing sets and Otter Pops, followed by a night of pillow forts and monster movies.  I have heard people say that having kids stole their youth, but those people are MORONS.  Seriously.  My kids keep me young, by giving me an excuse to act like an over-sugared spaz.  I highly recommend them ( The Otter Pops and the kids).

So those are some of the ways that I have chosen to rise against the big bad age monster.  I may not win the war, but I am winning enough battles to make it feel like a worthwhile cause.  And I got carded the other afternoon ( by the half blind great grandmother working at the Mexican restaurant around the corner…but it still counts, right??) so I think its working.  Mind over matter, kids!

So do you have any advice, oh internet brethren, for your aged pal Trista?  What do you do to keep yourself feeling youthful?  Am I just fooling myself?  Or do you subscribe to the “you are only as old as you feel” school of thinking?

Seek Sunshine

As I head to Florida for the weekend and think of Florida Sunshine, it seems the perfect time to share my life motto with the Eve-101 family. Occasionally, people will ask me what all the talk of seeking and sharing sunshine may be under the About Us section. I’m not called Sunshine because I’m blonde. It’s much, much deeper than my naturally blonde (lowlighted and highlighted twice a year) hair. It’s more than my normal disposition. SEEK SUNSHINE encompasses my life philosophy, a huge life lesson and an energy shared amongst those closest to me.

All that being said, today is just as good a day as any to share my motto and learn about yours!

Timing is relative… this happened five years ago.

Picture August…dark, black and dreary for a week at a time. The week after my ex left, I was sitting outside on the deck drinking my morning coffee pondering the state of my life, my heart and so much more. I was in tremendous pain. I mean, the man who had promised to love and cherish me forever….whom I believed….just left under some precarious conditions and my life and my very soul were in turmoil.

Out of respect and genuine love for him, I feel the need to share two things. First and foremost, he is an amazing, extremely active and very loving father to our children. Second, he did not cheat on me and those precarious conditions are not relevant.

The chapter that ended is not nearly as important as the chapter which began.

Sass Monkey, my daughter, was eleven months old at the time. I have no idea what she may have felt…She is VERY relevant !

My Little Man was 2 1/2 . He has my grandmother’s blue eyes, only larger. Angelic, even. He had seen and heard some things that children should NEVER see or hear….and part of my pain was not knowing how much of that was my fault. For anyone who has ever ended a marriage with children, perhaps this makes more sense. The point is that my son was absolutely in turmoil of his own. Words fail to express how much this impacts me.

On this bleak August morning, my Little Man comes outside, looks at the dark sky above and just practically cries, “Mama! Mama! NO SUN!!!!” My kids adore nature and everything about it. In any other situation, this could have been a toddler upset about the weather.

However, I recalled a time in my childhood when I felt confused or hurt by one thing and it was easier to tell my parents that something trivial or childlike was the issue. I saw my son basically doing the same thing. In my heart, all I could feel in that moment was his pain. Mine disappeared and his consumed me. I still get chills to remember just how much I felt his pain and how powerless I felt.

Literally, I could feel my son’s pain to my very core.

I honestly felt he was saying “look, I am really hurt and confused that the daddy I love so much will not be living here anymore….and I love my daddy so much….and, mom, I love you so much, too….but,I am confused…..I am hurt and now look…the sun isn’t even shining”. Without even knowing it, I realized on some level that this moment was going to define the course of the rest of our lives.

All this in less than a minute or two. This is how I think and feel.

Feeling his pain, all I could do was kneel down and look into those beautiful, innocent eyes of his that always brought my mamaw (moms mom) close to me. Mind you, she died twenty five years ago….so her influence on me is profound. I remember thinking of her love for me and mine for her….and giving consideration to what she may have said to me in a similar moment.

Kneeling down, I just gazed into those angelic eyes with so much love that I know he must have felt it. I pointed to the darkest, biggest cloud right above our heads. I asked him if he saw it. He responded with some fear and trepidation, “Uh huh, …….The Big One?”

I just looked at him and with what I attribute to my mamaw and God….felt the strength to tell him with every ounce of conviction possible:

” Yes, baby, the big one. Honey, the sun is right behind THAT cloud.”

I kid you not. Little Man’s expression immediately changed to joyous. God was in that moment. My mamaw was in that moment. He put his little hands on my cheeks, smiled and said “Oh….SEEK SUNSHINE!” Like all the truths of the universe were revealed to him and it was really THAT simple. SEEK SUNSHINE. He was right, it is that simple.

To me, there was something poetic about everything I had ever read about “a little child will lead us” and how God sent his son to save us and my own saving me.

We have said that phrase almost every day since their dad left. I painted the walls in my house yellow…to which my kids immediately proclaimed quite happily “Yeah…Sunshine!!!” It was my daughter’s fifth word. I have various sunshine symbols in our home. It is our life theme, if you will.

Now you know the catalyst for my life change and why I strive to seek the light in any darkness. I learned it from my greatest teachers, my children.

I’ve shared our life motto. What is yours? Was there a single moment where it became clear to you, or would you say it grew on you over time? I really want to know!! If you don’t have a life motto, share something a child has taught you.

Ridiculous Stupidity

It is not often that something grates my last nerve to the point where I want to grab the largest soap box in sight. In fact, it is rare that something crawls under my skin to such a degree that I must share it with anyone willing to listen. Who am I kidding? Occasionally, I am compelled to share the details regardless of such willingness. Every so often, I get a case of “let-me-shove-my-opinion-down-your-throat-itis.”

This past week, I have suffered (along with those around me) a massive case of the disease. Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe it was just time to balance my positive energy with back to back negativity. Our unseasonably warm October turned cold and rainy. I didn’t mind the weather as much as the sinus-ear infection it caused my daughter. When my kids aren’t feeling well, I tend to feel the same. Still, I was grateful for the shift to cooler weather.

I was not so grateful for our son’s baseball coach. I struggled immeasurably when he insisted our kids come play baseball in the rain one night. My opinions were not kept to myself. Low and behold, the opposing team did not have enough kids prepared to play in the drizzling, dark wetness. Instead of asking the parents, he made a decision to reschedule the game to a day where three of us could not be there. Oh, joy! I was just glad that I was not the only parent wishing he had taken the option of a forfeit from the other team.

Weather and moonlight aside, I allowed the negative energy to grab a hold of me. It’s like a domino effect. The minute you allow one thing to bother you, other things will quickly follow suit. I had to identify the root of my own issue. It was Mr. Mercedes Man. The only way to expel him and rid myself of “let-me-shove-my-opinion-down-your-throat-itis” is to share his evil ways. Or my own ridiculous stupidity.

On my commute home the other day, Mr. Mercedes Man decides to get *thisclose* to my economical Ford Focus. Granted, the back roads I use for my commute are picturesque and filled with luxury vehicles. Still, I don’t feel out of place or uncomfortable. Well, until you get so close to my ass that there should be a tube of Astroglide serving as your hood ornament. Yes, he was that close.

Tailgating to that degree qualifies him for asshat status in the Book of Carol. However, looking into my rear view mirror, I noticed a boy who could not have been more than five-years-old sitting in the front seat. I would peg him at maybe 45 pounds. Small kid. Despite my obvious tailgating discomfort, this absolutely sent me into a tizzy.

As a mother, I attempt to refrain from passing judgment on others. Don’t laugh. Really, I do my best to keep my opinions to myself. I won’t even venture down the path of spewing the Tennessee State Law. Okay, I will. Here are the exact specifications for young children:

• Children age one (1) through age three (3), and weighing more than twenty (20) pounds, must be secured in a child safety seat in a forward facing position in the rear seat, if available, or according to the child safety restraint system or vehicle manufacturer’s instructions.
• Children age four (4) through age eight (8), and measuring less than four feet nine inches (4′9″) in height, must be secured in a belt-positioning booster seat system, meeting federal motor vehicle safety standards in the rear seat, if available, or according to the child safety restraint system or vehicle manufacturer’s instructions.

It is not just the fact it’s a law which bothers me. Mr. Mercedes Man seems to think that his child is beyond the reach of every other bad driver on our roads. Clearly, his luxury sedan offered a back seat. Clearly, if he can afford a Mercedes, purchasing the proper booster seat should not be an issue. Instead, he chooses to defy the law, put his child in harm’s way and totally aggravate me in the process. To me, risking the safety of a child is both selfish and stupid. It was the catalyst for my bad case of “let-me-shove-my-opinion-down-your-throat-itis.” But, in the end, I know I let it happen.

Easily, this entire episode could have led me down a very different route.

Dammit, self-awareness!

Just as love begets love, perhaps ridiculous stupidity begets ridiculous stupidity.

What about you? What seemingly small thing can set your temper a-flare, or drive you crazy? Do you tend to feel irritated or sick when those close to you are not feeling their wheaties? Please, for the love of all that is ridiculous…share something that gives you a dose of what I felt this week!

The Bext Ex-Wife, Ever!

Little excites me more in this life than my kiddos. Oh sure, a night of all-consuming, down-n-dirty, multi-orgasmic passion brings a different level of bliss to my life. I won’t deny it! No doubt, winning the lottery would result in my dancing around naked and singing my joy from the mountaintops. Can you just envision it now? Me, poetically turning along my path of pirouettes, while doling out copious amounts of hard cash along the way! *sigh*

There is normal daily excitement and then there is “other” excitement. In the day to day, nothing excites me more than being a great mom to my son and daughter. Where some parents find the daily stuff to be mundane, it is where I know my greatest purpose is being served. It is in the daily interractions my children have learned some of the most important life lessons. It’s rarely what we are doing that matters, it is how we are choosing to do something. Cooking eggs on a Saturday may be dull to most. However, to us, it’s an opportunity to share a task, sing songs and make up goofy words. It’s learning, cooking and entertainment!

Coming a close second to that daily pleasure is finding new and creative ways to be a great ex-wife. Yes, you heard me right. When their dad left me five years ago, I was immediately committed to the idea of being The Best Ex-Wife, Ever. I am sure there were moments I fantasized about The Best Ex Trophy. In my head, I recall thinking, “if you are going to leave me, you are going to miss me and end up begging for me to take you back.” Perhaps I planned on being the Best Ex-Wife ever with a secret hope he would change his mind about the divorce. I figured I would kill his hatred with my love. Like that works!

The irony is that it did, in fact, work. It just didn’t work as I had envisioned. Once that initial rush of spiteful energy passed, I realized I actually DID want to be the Best Ex-Wife, Ever. At that point, it had nothing to do with my ex and everything to do with my children. I wanted to be my best “everything” for them. I wanted to be loving, kind, forgiving, understanding and all other things for them. However, to be those things for them, I needed to be those things with their daddy, too. In theory, it sounded good and felt right. In practice, it took a while. Divorce is never pretty, especially with children involved.

I will admit the first year post-divorce was not easy. There was anger and hurt on both sides, much undefined. Other than settling into a Parenting Plan and getting adjusted to the major changes divorce brings, I can’t say we accomplished much in the way of forging a positive parenting relationship during that first year. However, by the time our daughter was turning two and our son was almost four-years-old, things slowly began to change. My ex started dating a woman he really liked. I wanted my kids to know, unequivocally, that their dad’s happiness was a good thing. I wanted my kids to know that liking another woman did not diminish their love for me. I did NOT want my kids to feel any of the classic guilt most kids feel when given the opportunity to form a relationship with one parent’s new interest. As a result, they do have a great relationship with the woman destined to be their step-mom. Showing her respect is a natural extension of showing their father respect.

Flash forward. Our kids are six and seven-years-old. Their father and I are still (and often!) mistaken for being married at the ballfield or at their school. The truth is, we probably get along better than most married couples. We talk, we laugh, we email and share every detail regarding our kids. We stay on the same page because we know it’s the best thing for our kids. Turns out, it’s the best thing for us, too.

When people ask me how we do it, I say what works for us borders on things we learned in Kindergarten. For us, it basically falls under five key rules:
1) Be honest and Kind. Seriously. You don’t have to be a bitch or a bastard. Use common courtesy such as please and thank you. Manners are easily noticed and set the right example for your kids.

2) Admitting when you are wrong is imperative. Admit it to each other, preferably in front of the kids. “I was wrong about the field trip date”, is so simple. It also shows your kids that adults make mistakes,too.

3.) Be flexible and creative in your parenting plan. Instead of four full weeks during the year, it works much better for my ex (and our kids!) for him to keep the kids every other Tuesday. Don’t get stuck in the laws or rules of others, find what works for you and your kids.

4.) Share accomplishments openly. For example, I don’t sign report cards until he sees them. We communicate about classroom plays, activities and other things we should both know about. There is no exclusion, only inclusion. We share in the joy of being parents as often as possible. We laugh over silly stuff the kids do at each of our houses. Humor really does heal.
5.) Don’t take each other for granted. Remember, the marriage is likely over ,in part, because one or both took the other for granted. WIthout blowing smoke up my ex’s ass, I let him know how much I appreciate his support and involvement. He is at almost every practice, every game and at any school meeting upon request. I am grateful my kids have such a loving and involved father. Not all kids are that lucky.

Believe it or not, it’s the little things which make co-parenting so much easier. Basic honesty, kindness, compassion and understanding. It’s so simple, I feel a bit like an idiot writing about it! Often, I hear what a total asshat someone’s ex may be and how what works for us could never work for them. Tell you what, I’ll accept that you don’t think there can be any change. I just ask that you consider that change is possible. Truly, it started working for us when I decided his response was not relevant to my actions. Over time, his responses changed. Maybe the difference was making the decision for himself and not being coerced into “my” way

What about you? What works for you or someone you know in the co-parenting arena?

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