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.
I am trying to understand why my old, cool friends have gotten so high strung and opinionated after becoming parents. In fact they actually seem to be shells of their past selves. With no energy to do yoga, or write or think about creativity or their dreams because now they are intent on micro-managing their child's every interaction. Am I destined to do the same thing?
Who can live without a BlackBerry? Not this Mom. And my dentist tells me I HAVE to use an electric toothbrush. And my own common sense tells me the children NEED to have hand held gaming units. But those are some of the things that are easy to recharge. Things like my own mental and physical energy are somewhat harder to energize.
My husband and I had two children 18 months apart. If you have your kids close together like we did, the "lost zone" can stretch up to five years -- in a row. That's a long time to be living together but doing different things. Remembering to be married means remembering to be together on a basic level, kissing, touching, nice words, helping each other.
When my son was six, he began to wear ties to school. He wears either a dress shirt and tie or full suit and tie every single day. I don't even see it any more. But others do. For the most part, all of the attention he has received has been positive. But once, in Grade 2, he received a different kind of attention.
When it comes to discipline, many parents have taken a large step backwards, and technology is to blame. In this day and age of smart phone journalism, YouTube, Twitter and Facebook shares, parents have become wary and hesitant of punishing their children in case their actions at any moment are recorded and uploaded to a willing audience in a matter of seconds.
I've been using the power of Santa Claus for a few weeks now, and things are looking good. For maximum effectiveness, the use of Santa and his omnipresence is good for the window directly following Halloween until December 25. During this time, I enjoy the increased attentiveness, dearth of meltdowns and general calm that precedes Christmas day.
We've all heard them. Those annoying phrases that our parents said to us growing up and now that we're parents ourselves, we've decided to inflict them our own kids. The reality is that the true meanings behind these messages that parents tell their kids are often not as straightforward as they appear to be. Following are the top 10 phrases that parents use on their kids, and what they really mean.
I sometimes wonder if I was properly prepared for having five kids, four of whom are little boys. After all, no one handed me the instructions manual that explained what makes boys tick! So, I've decided to write the Cole's Notes version, just for you! Share it if you know someone who also never received the manual!
Our daily routine was very predictable: my son would arrive home from school, he and his siblings would be given a nutritious snack, and then it would be homework time. That's when the tantrums, rage and complaints would begin. Common complaints were that I was SO mean and unfair, or "torturing" him to do his homework! Here are some tips I have used to get my son to do his homework.
Recently, my partner and I feared becoming "that family" on a flight from Toronto to Glasgow, Scotland. Our particular infant, born three-and-a-half months ago, has a killer set of pipes on him. I am certain that up against him most anthem rockers would scurry away like scared little country mice. We survived the worst of it and with these helpful tips you can, too.
With the kids, my husband is the sensitive one. While I am the screamer, he is the voice of reason. I almost felt inadequate when he told me his approach. But then I remembered: who I am is enough too. I don't have to change who I am, I just have to channel the qualities that make me who I am in the right direction.
The process of convincing a 18- to 36-month-old child to give up the freedom of a diaper and learn to use the strangely shaped porcelain bathroom furniture is not for the faint of heart. While the problems may seem humourous to many, including parents who have already gone through the nightmare, there are potentially germy consequences that need to be considered.