When I became a mother, I never wanted to pretend to be Santa Claus.
I didn’t want to participate in the big lie. Instead of magic, I thought the Santa myth was a bunch of overrated bologna. It didn’t make sense to me to buy presents for my kids and then pretend that some fictional character had actually given those gifts. I didn’t want to put my kids on a stranger man’s lap. And I never wanted to convince them that someone would sneak into our house at night while we were sleeping and knew if they had been naughty or nice. The whole pseudo-omniscience thing just really didn’t sit well with me.
I didn’t want anything to do with Santa. Or his sleigh. Or his reindeer. Or any of it. But it turned out, this whole Santa thing actually had very little to do with me. Continue reading “How Santa Started Visiting Our House”
At my son’s three year check-up, our pediatrician pointed to a picture in a book: “What color is this bird?”
“Boo,” my son, Wolfy, whispered. The bird was blue.
The doctor turned the page. “And what color is this bird?” he asked, pointing to a yellow bird.
“Leh-woe,” my son whispered. My son was speaking so softly that I’m not even sure the doctor knew he had answered the question. Continue reading “Why I’m Open About My Son’s Speech Therapy”
I used to be a very judgmental mother.
I was the perfect parent, except for one thing – I didn’t have any children yet. Well, I had one baby. One. He was a really easy baby. He smiled at everyone and was never grumpy, even when we changed his schedule. Looking back now, I realize that my life was pretty simple and I didn’t even know it. All I knew is that I was the mother of one easygoing baby and yet, I thought that I was an expert on all aspects of parenting. Continue reading “A Judgmental Mother Visits McDonald’s”
Recently our family took a trip to Montreal.
My husband and I thought it would be the perfect mini-vacation because it’s the closest city to where we live and even though it’s still cold outside, there is a lot to see and do. The highlight of the trip was supposed to be the Biodome, which is sort of like an indoor zoo.
The first problem occurred even before we left our house when I realized that my passport had expired a month ago. Everyone over the age of 16 needs a valid passport or enhanced driver’s license to get into Canada and back into the United States. Having an expired passport was really bad. It should have been an omen for what to expect from the rest of the trip. But we had already booked and paid to rent an Airbnb in Montreal. There was no changing the plans or cancelling. We would just have to drive up to the border and try our luck. Continue reading “Three Terrible Days in Montreal”
It’s not easy to admit you’ve made a mistake. As a parent, it’s even harder. What I did was wrong and I can’t even apologize to my son because I don’t want to remind him that for years, I told him that Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny aren’t real. I put my own ideals before the needs of my child. I strongly believe that lying to kids is wrong, but I let that get in the way of being a good mother. My little boy wanted to believe in magic. He wanted to be like the other kids and I didn’t allow that. Instead, I put myself first. Continue reading “I Regret Telling My Child There Is No Easter Bunny”
6:00am Lean over in the dark and peak at your phone. Freak out! You only have 30 minutes until it begins…
1 minute later (Actual time- 6:30) Hear that accursed chime – your alarm clock – your daily reminder that your plan to design Lego sets for a living or become a professional bass fisherman didn’t work out and your mix-tape wasn’t fire so you still have to go to work every damn day. Continue reading “How to Get Your Four-Year-Old to Preschool On Time (A Guest Post by my husband, Will Eberle)”
My newly-four-year-old son is deeply entrenched in the “Why Stage”.
For the past six months he has been constantly asking, “Why why why?” and it’s driving me crazy! Seriously. I think I’ve finally reached my breaking point.
I thought I would be a better parent through this.
Ever since my son entered toddler-hood, I knew that something like this might be coming. Continue reading “Surviving The Why Stage”
I keep making the same parenting mistake over and over I need desperately need to learn to stop.
I need to teach myself to quit being such a “tiger mom” before I end up seriously harming my kids.
Already I can see that pushing my three year old son to write his name ended up backfiring. “No!” I would catch myself saying, “Just do straight lines. You’re drawing, not writing!” I’m embarrassed to admit it but today, I even offered to give my little boy chocolate chips if he would try it again and “this time do his very best“. Ugh. I need some sort of intervention. Continue reading “Taming the Tiger Mom Inside Myself”
A year ago, when my son turned three years old, someone told me that this would be the year his knuckles would change.
The backs of his chubby hands would morph from being punctuated by little dimples to being accented by adult knuckles. The idea terrified me. This transformation became a metaphor for the year my son was three. He has grown and changed so much in the past twelve months that it’s no wonder he often displays “three-nager” behavior. Continue reading “12 Things I Love About Three Years Old”
Halloween is my favorite holiday. I love making costumes and I love candy. What more does a person need?
Then this year, my almost-four-year-old son decided he wanted to be Daniel Tiger, the main character on the PBS Kids show that replaced Mr. Rogers. If you know me, you know I hate Daniel Tiger. Sometimes, I actually feel sort of bad because Daniel Tiger is so nice but I just hate him so much. He’s like the guest you don’t want to invite to your party because he annoys you but he really hasn’t done anything that terrible so you feel obligated to include him and of course he shows up EVERY DAMN TIME.
So when my son, Wolfy, said he wanted to dress as Daniel Tiger for Halloween, I just nonchalantly said, “Sure.” But secretly, I was hoping my son would end up changing his mind.
Continue reading “Giving Up Control of the Halloween Costume”