While the fantasy surrounding Santa can be a magical experience for a child, how to deal with the consequences of explaining "how a man with infinite resources has left you with less than your peers" can become complicated and send out the wrong message about the child's worth if Santa's yearly rewards don't add up to those of their elementary counterparts.
Many moms and dads dive into research and read everything they come across. There is no right way to handle news of this nature. The moment illness strikes, life becomes split into two sections: before and after. And it's normal to yearn to get back to before. Before was a time of blissful unawareness.
As the nicotine leached out of his system, the emotional outbursts started. Think of the terrible twos except with a terrible two-year-old that could bench press you. He was like someone suffering from Tourettes Syndrome. He would just started swearing and freaking out for no reason. No, I don't want to do the dishes. No, I don't want to go to bed. No. No. No.
I am all for moms who don't take themselves too seriously -- who don't try too hard to be perfect and who accept themselves for who they are, warts and all. I am all for mothers who are 'people' first. Who love who they are and are proud to chase their dreams. Because sometimes we mamas just get lost in this parenting gig, and we wake up 25 years later and wonder who we are.
When my arms were elbow-deep in the toilet this morning, I realized something. The kids called: "Momma, can you please get me a snack?" "Mommy, find my soother!" I kept saying, "You can do it! I'll help you in a second!" After a few minutes of this, they stopped asking. It got very, very quiet. I peeked out of the bathroom.
It's already begun! School has started, so kids are getting sick. We might as well face the inevitable: at some point or other, a virus will strike at the least convenient moment. The question is, how will we handle it? Here are some suggestions for opportunities to bond with your little ones on the days you are 'stuck' at home.
Parenthood is rife with exasperating platitudes, but I've found none quite so off base as this whole "time flies" business. My son, Emile, will not be out of the house before I know it. Those first three months of his life might as well have been millennia. I could not be more grateful to find out that rather than flying away, Emile has kept my perception of time stuck in slow motion.
Parenting is tiring, and fighting your kids' natural tendencies can be exhausting. Growth and change hurt, and there's risk of lasting resentment or shut down if you push kids too hard. But learning and greatness only come with tolerance for pain, and fear, and as parents we need to use the experience our kids don't have to help them push their limits. It's our job.
Hey, parents: Don't sweat the small stuff. Even if you work full-time, bottle feed, don't buy organic food, and never threw your kids gigantic birthday bashes with elephant rides, as long as you are physically and emotionally present for your children -- and provide a safe, stable environment for them -- they'll be just fine.
A new study from Michigan State University shows people who think they can learn from their mistakes have a different brain reaction to errors than those who don't. Children who expect to make mistakes are much more willing to try new things and take on difficult tasks. As a result they're open to learning more both at school and in other environments.
Having a child can be overwhelming, in every possible way. Especially if the child is your first born. You see, kids don't come with a manual. You have to mostly trust your gut, take some advice when needed and sometimes rely on the Internet for a huge chunk of information. I used the internet to Google "How to bathe a three-day-old" because I didn't have much help after my child was born.
American Idol is a great example of what can happen if you aren't honest with your children, and you send them out onto the stage, to fail. My kids are terrible singers. I am a terrible singer. They won't be one of those show contestants who are so painfully awful but are convinced they are the next Kelly Clarkson because their mom said so.
When I was pregnant with my first child, I had a list of all the "dos and don'ts" required for effectively achieving the status of perfect parent. As I swapped my hopes for a career in nursing, and instead chose countless hours of time bonding with my children, in those early days of motherhood when I was stumbling over the educational toys strewn about my home, nobody could have convinced me then that I would become what I am today.
More words were exchanged between us two just the day before. Trying to sort out the tangled web of emotions from the days prior. He, with a hoodie pulled over his face. Me, raw emotions and bundled nerves pleading for answers. Both of us feeling raw and exposed. On a road of good intentions, going nowhere fast.
In a nutshell: life is chaos, it's all my fault, but I just can't help it so bite me. I'm a busy woman who is chewing what she has bitten off as fast as she can. I'm a hot mess, always in a rush to get where I'm going, dragging my poor son behind me. But damn it, I'm doing it. I'm getting there. There is room for improvement for sure. But at this dawn of a new calendar year, I'm not going to make a grand pledge to change.