Want to know how to get your kid a Division 1 Scholarship?

The obvious response to that question is yes.  (Who wouldn’t want to send their child to college free from financial shackles?)  I wish I could share with you some magical answer. The reality is, the odds of your child earning a scholarship are slim (and there are plenty of statistics to back that up). Don’t despair…Even if your child isn’t one of the lucky few, it doesn’t mean they didn’t accomplish something amazing. You will see so much more growth out of your child if you shift your gaze from the athletic scholarship and watch them soak in the invaluable life skills that sports provide.

Soccer, basketball, baseball, hockey, tennis…my parents put me into a lot of different sports.  I don’t think it took much prodding since I had 3 siblings who had already led the way.  Much like school, it wasn’t a choice; it’s just what we did.  And I loved it.  I loved the competition, I loved the team camaraderie, I loved the physical play, and I loved the feeling of accomplishment.  Being involved with sports taught me many things that have been useful throughout my life.  Things that I couldn’t learn in a classroom.

Courage-

For one, it forced me into new situations where I had to learn a new skill.  And when you first start, you’re horrible.  Beyond kicking the ball and understanding I was trying to get the black and white ball into the other net, I was not learning about technique. What I was really learning is courage.  Starting a new sport with a bunch of random kids can be frightening.  Putting yourself out there to try something new can be scary.  Every practice and every game helps kids learn that trying new things and meeting new people is fun and they will gain more and more courage every time they have to practice this skill.  I believe in having your child try new things (sports related or not).  A young child may not have the courage to try baseball for the first time, but you as a parent know it’s not just baseball they will be learning.

Perseverance-

Frustration is common, especially when trying a new sport.  Yes, I can whiff at a baseball, but no, I can’t give up. Working through the frustration and eventually feeling the ball hit the sweet spot is magical.

Besides trying a new sport or skill,  frustration also comes when you’re playing tough competition. I have played in many soccer games where we were tied or down by one with time running out. I push and push and push, desperately trying to get the ball past the goalie. When I (or one of my teammates) beat the clock and score, it’s total arm-raised, jump-in-the-air, hug-your-teammate elation. It may not lead to a win every game, but tasting success after giving it my all…no better feeling. Lesson learned: Perseverance pays off.

Humility/Motivation-

When I was in 3rd grade, my parents entered me into a tennis tournament despite the fact I had only played with my family and had no formal instruction.  I liked playing tennis, but I had no desire to play in a tournament.  My parents made me do it anyway (building courage).  I ended up playing the local phenom-first-grader who took lessons at the indoor tennis club.  I lost terribly.  I wasn’t used to losing to someone younger than me.  I remember my brother’s friend saying to me, “Hey, I heard you lost to a first-grader.”  He might as well have said, “You stink at tennis.” (Jerk…ahem, but my mature self is completely over it.) Losing may not have felt good at the time, but I learned humility and that experience torched a fire in me to get better.

Physical/Mental Toughness-

Soccer ended up being my favorite sport by the time I reached high school.  I loved being a part of a team.  Soccer taught me how to be physically and mentally tough.  I would get knocked down; get back up.  I would be physically spent; keep on pushing.  I would sprain ankles/wrists, break my thumb, get the wind knocked out of me, and constantly have varying shades of purple all over my legs.  It taught me to play through the pain, understand I am more capable than I know, and that some things have to suck before you get better/stronger.

Relationships-

My soccer teammates were some of my closest friends.  We battled together, ate together, laughed together, and won and lost together.  Some of my fondest memories from high school are being with my teammates on and off the field.  They were my 2nd family and almost 20 years later, we always start up where we left off no matter how much time has gone by.

When fall soccer season was over, I played basketball. Unlike my soccer team, it was always a mix of new faces.  We may have been a hodgepodge of personalities and interests, but we enjoyed each other.  I learned there are few people who have the potential to be your BFF, but everyone has the potential to be a friend.  Your friendships are like a deck of cards, similar but each person brings their own unique value.

I’m saying a lot about this one, but relationships are a crucial part of life. Learning how to handle different people will come in handy when your child embarks on a career.  Much like when I join a team and don’t get to choose my teammates; I join a company and I don’t get to pick my co-workers. I do, however, have a choice of how I treat people and make other people feel. They are all a worthy part of the “team” and my ability to make them feel like a valued member directly coincides with the success of our department.

Support/Compassion-

I could go on and on about all the life lessons I learned through sports.  The one lesson I will cherish the most is the love and bonds it created for my family.  With 2 older brothers and an older sister, I went to a plethora of games.  It wasn’t all about me and my games.  It was about taking the time to go support my siblings.  It was watching the hard work they put into being better and seeing the fruits of their labor.  It was about being normal, squabbling siblings, but once we were outside of those doors; we were family and they were my tribe.  I wanted them to do well.  I felt bad for them if they didn’t. When they lost, I lost.  When they won, I won.  When they earned an award, I did, too (of most proud sister). It taught me how important my family is to me. There is no replacement.

And that brings me back to you. I know you care a lot about your child. You wouldn’t spend hours sitting on the sidelines if you didn’t. I just think we should all take a collective deep breath and take the pressure off ourselves and our kids.  Just by being involved in sports, your child is going to learn extremely valuable lessons.  They may not put them on the road to the big leagues, but there is no bigger league than the game of life.  And thanks to your encouragement and support, they will show up with the best equipment.

 

Youth Sports: Let’s $top the Insanity

Remember when playing soccer meant signing up in the fall and then playing a few weeks later?  Remember when your best friend’s dad used to coach? Remember when your parents didn’t need to work a 2nd job so they could afford your sports fees?  Remember when weekends were spent running around the neighborhood, hanging out with your family, and just…I don’t know…being a kid?

My soccer career started in the 80s.  My games took place on a baseball field/hockey rink.  The field was made of dirt and sprouts of grass.  I don’t remember what kind of balls we played with, but I can pretty much guarantee they were no-name, pleather, and peeling.  Our uniforms consisted of a blue t-shirt with our school name printed in white.  I wore my older brother’s turf shoes, which had previously been used for baseball.  Our team picture was taken by parents (if they remembered to bring their camera).  In my team picture I am sporting jeans and a sweatshirt.  (Come on, Mom and Dad!  Jeans?!).  We had parents coach our team, despite never having played the sport themselves.

Fast forward to the 2000s. My oldest son started playing sports at 3 and has already tried soccer, t-ball, gymnastics, basketball, tennis, and swimming.  Most of these have either been community ed programs or lessons…fairly inexpensive and low-key.  When he turned 5, his soccer uniform went from a t-shirt to a head-to-toe Adidas uniform.  Huh?  I checked the online form to make sure I was registering for the right league.  This is “Rec” soccer right? Do we really need to pay $90 for a league that is played on a makeshift field, has volunteer coaches, and no refs? Couldn’t we just go with t-shirts and drop the charge to 50 bucks?  These kids are 5.  They don’t care if their clothes are on backwards or inside out.  They’re there to have fun and we’re hoping they learn something.  If they pay attention to where the ball is 80% of the time, I would consider the season a success.

I know parents around the nation are shaking their heads and thinking, “You just wait.  $90 wouldn’t even pay for my son’s hockey stick or my daughter’s dance make-up”.  And that’s where it goes from ridiculous to INSANE!!!  I decided to look up where my son was headed once he outgrew the rec league.  It took me a while to find the fees on the club website and then there it was…a whole freak’n mortgage payment!  $1,500 for one year of soccer.   That would have been the cost for my whole soccer CAREER!  (…excuse me while I hyperventilate into a paper bag…). On top of the $1,500, there are also coach’s fees, tournaments (add to that hotels, meals, and gas), paying for your coach’s traveling expenses, and…I don’t know…there’s probably some fee for having your child’s game video-taped and critiqued by a professional German soccer legend.  Easily you could end up paying over 2 grand for your child to kick around a ball.  Not to mention, most people have more than one child in some sort of sport and it makes me think, how the heck do people afford this and at what cost?

Growing up, my family consisted of my parents and 4 kids.  When we were young, my parents wouldn’t allow us to play on the traveling team because of the time commitment and cost.  We played in rec leagues and had basic equipment.  When we were older and were close to being able to drive ourselves, we joined the local traveling teams.  We lived in a modest community and the team fees were reasonable.  We had generic uniforms and only “traveled” to a couple local tournaments a year. We played several teams who had fancy gear (matching bags/warm-ups/jackets) and paid coaches.  These other teams went to out-of-state tournaments, expensive camps, and brought in trainers from Europe.  And we beat them.  We didn’t always win, but despite not having our parents pay hundreds of dollars; we won…a lot.  My brother’s team was the same way.  Many of us went on to play college soccer.  Only a couple went on to be D1 athletes, but you know what?…most kids don’t…no matter how much you spend.

The other day I was reading an article about a wealthy suburb in the Minneapolis area.  The article talked about their traveling basketball program and how the starting age keeps on getting younger and younger.  I not only found it disturbing, but laughable.  These teams had a guy taking stats of where players were making/missing shots and spent time watching video to critique the 8-yr-old’s “skills”.  Um, excuse me?  Have these people lost their minds?!  These are 8 yr olds, people!  They still write their names like they’re blind folded and some can’t even tie their shoes…you’re critiqing their shot selection?  The article went on to discuss parent’s motives and one poor lady embarrassingly said something to the effect of…”It’s fun for the kids and hopefully they’ll get a D2 or D1 scholarship”.  Really? First of all, let’s think about how many kids go on to be D1 athletes.   According to the NCAA, 3% of boys varsity basketball players go on to play D1.  3%!  And what is the reason parents desire their child to play D1?  Is it for the free tuition?  That makes sense.  College is expensive.  What doesn’t make sense is spending upwards of $10,000 for a 3% chance at a full-ride.  Would you buy a $10,000 lottery ticket for a 3% chance to win $100,000?  Seems pretty ridiculous, huh?

At some point in time, the youth sporting world took a turn for the worse and has become a huge financial strain for families.  It’s no wonder we see crazy parents pacing the sidelines, yelling at coaches, and throwing their lawn chairs…they’ve “invested” more money in their kid’s sports teams than the cost of a luxurious trip.  And they’ve probably spent more time at fields/courts/arenas/hotels than they’ve spent in their own home.

 

(Will Ferrell in the movie Kicking and Screaming)

Just to be clear, I am in no way saying kids shouldn’t play sports. Quite the opposite.  I am a huge proponent of youth sports and the benefits it brings.  I just don’t think kids need to play sports at the expense of their family’s financial health and well-being.  The average kid doesn’t need to go to an out-of-town tournament to find good competition. They don’t need a professional coach from the Czech Republic to teach them a slap-shot.  They don’t need to play several nights a week (which can lead to injury and burn-out).  We need to stop running our sports programs like we’re training future pro-athletes and start letting kids be kids.

This Youth Sports Crisis is a huge problem and it is our fault.  If we, as parents, didn’t sign our kids up for these astronomically expensive leagues; they wouldn’t exist.  It’s time we dial back the insanity we have created and get back to teaching our kids what real life looks like.  The vast majority of us can’t possibly keep up with the rising costs.  Please parents (and league presidents), let’s take it down a notch…or two.  Let’s get back to the basics.  And let’s make sure all kids can compete, no matter their parent’s pocketbook size.

The dinner dilemma = Head exploding

  

Every day I struggle with what to make for dinner.  Cooking does not come naturally to me and eating healthy doesn’t come naturally to the three people eating my meals.  The other night, I sat down in my living room and searched the internet for healthy recipes that are kid-friendly and easy to prepare.  This is like the Bermuda Triangle of recipes…if they ever existed, they have disappeared into cyber-space.

Plenty of recipes claim to be “Quick and easy”, but they are not.  Apparently these food ninjas are wicked fast at chopping/dicing/mincing their 10+ ingredients and also keep a plethora of foreign spices in their library-size pantry. As opposed to me, who sees a long list of ingredients and immediately hits “next”.

I also rarely find “kid-friendly” recipes that actually are something my kids would eat.  I don’t know who these kids are or where they live, but my kids would NEVER eat their “bright and colorful!” dishes.  “Try this quinoa with diced red and yellow peppers, avocado, and black beans.  Place grilled shrimp on top and drizzle with a lime vinaigrette. Spoon into your child’s bento box and watch them be the envy of the lunchroom.”  Ahem…more like the exception in the lunchroom.  I don’t know who these children are, but clearly they’re ADULT children.

After collecting some potential meals, I attempt one for dinner.  It basically was chicken, rice, and vegetables with an asian-inspired sauce.  I serve it to my family and they don’t like it.  I think my youngest son’s exact word was, “Yuck!”.  My 6-yr-old was a little bit less pointed and asked, “how many bites do I have to eat?”.  And my husband silently ate it, which is another way of saying, “this is not that good, but I have a better chance of dying if I say it out loud than if I eat whatever this is.”  When the boys were still picking at their plate, I walked upstairs and layed down on my bed.  I needed some peace and quiet.  I had other things on my mind besides making a sucky meal, but the whole “what can I cook my family?” is a constant thorn in my side.  I could make it easy on myself and just give them what they want (hot dogs, chicken nuggets, mac and cheese), but I’m trying to provide healthy meals so they eventually grow up to be adults with healthy habits.  It got me thinking, this whole “food stress” has been going on for a long time…ever since my oldest turned 2 to be exact…

At about 2 or 3 years old, many kids become pickier eaters.  I don’t know if it’s their taste buds becoming more sensitive or if they just finally realize there is more food in the house besides what is sitting on their plate.  Either way, feeding kids is tricky.  One day they can’t get enough bananas and the next day they hate them.  One day they gobble up their scrambled eggs and the next day they can’t even stand the smell.  It’s impossible to keep up with their ever-changing Martha Stewart-like bluntness.

Besides dealing with pickiness, we are also bombarded with news segments/articles/blog posts that tell us all the many ways we are failing when we feed our kids.

Head-spinning information I have read about our food:

• Fruits and vegetables have pesticides. Pesticides are bad.
• You should buy organic, but organic is expensive.  (I would buy organic if I knew that non-organic foods were bad for us.  I have yet to see a long-term study on the benefits of buying organic, but by the time that study comes out it will be too late.  Guilt-fest!)
• Canned vegetables are picked at their peak, which means they have a high nutrition value. They’re also inexpensive and last several months.  Canned goods leach BPA into your food.  BPA causes cancer.
• Milk is a perfect calcium/protein drink.  Milk has added antibiotics and hormones.  Ingesting too many antibiotics is making us resistant to them and who knows what the added hormones are doing…maybe causing early onset puberty (what?!).
• Wheat bread is healthier than white bread.  Make sure it is 100% whole grain wheat bread.  Don’t buy wheat bread from the grocery store…have you looked at all the nasty stuff they put into bread?  You should really be making your own.  I don’t have time to make my own.  Exclude wheat from your diet because it creates an inflammatory response in your body and gives you a “wheat gut”.  You also might be allergic to gluten, which is in wheat, so avoid it at all costs.  Wheat is a healthy part of a balanced diet.
• Buy organic, grass-fed, free-range meats.  Those meats are expensive…like back to the college days of only being able to afford ramen noodles expensive. (Side note- Ramen noodles have never been healthy.)
• Grill your meat to avoid unnecessary heart clogging oil.  Make sure the meat doesn’t get charred because then it turns into a carcinogen.  Carcinogens cause cancer.
• Be aware of any food that has a color other than…no color.  They probably have blue #1, yellow #5, red #666…these additives lead to ADD/ADHD.
• Buy REAL maple syrup.  The fake stuff is a bunch of toxins.  REAL maple syrup is expensive.
• Brown rice is healthier than white rice.  Brown rice has arsenic.
• Read labels for low sugar, low sodium, high protein, low-fat.  Be afraid of low fat…they must be replacing the flavor with scary things.
• Never ever buy anything with high fructose corn syrup, MSG, orange powdered cheese, or any long scientific word you can’t pronounce.  Most foods with a nutrition label have at least 1 item in their ingredient list that you are unfamiliar with or can’t pronounce.  Maybe it’s easier to find “clean eating” packaged foods at stores like Whole Foods, but they’re really expensive.  I would only be able to afford Half Foods.
• Apple sauce is fine, but real apples are better.  Organic apples are ideal.  Once again, organic is expensive.  If you do buy apple sauce, make sure it’s unsweetened and in a glass container.  The plastic ones probably have BPA.  Make sure your kids eat apple sauce for a week straight because it only lasts 7-10 days after opening.  After that, it turns into poison.

When did all of these toxic chemicals integrate into our foods?  I don’t remember my parents having mental breakdowns at the grocery store.  If they wanted hot dogs, they bought hot dogs.  If they were choosing which bread to buy, they bought the one on sale.  If they had a coupon for pasta, they bought the brand name; otherwise they went with the black and white boxed generic.  At home we were allowed one bowl of sugary cereal for breakfast.  If we were still hungry, we could have a bowl of whatever bland cereal we had in the pantry.  If we wanted pop, we could have some after we drank a glass of water.  (We rarely were thirsty enough for the pop.)  For cold lunch, we had peanut butter and jelly every day.  Our “Healthy” dinners consisted of a main dish, a bowl of salad, a stack of sandwich bread, and oddly enough pickles.  (My mom was ahead of her time.  Fermented foods are trending right now because they are good for your gut.).  We always had a glass of milk and had to finish it before leaving the table.  My parents didn’t worry about what was in our food.  They thought more about food as a class being “bad” or “good” and then it was all about what was a good deal.  Boy has life changed.

After all of the paralyzing information being thrown around, I’m left with only a few viable food options that still fit in my budget.  And to limit myself even more, I need to figure out some recipes my family will actually eat.  And that my friends is where my head explodes…and the remaining bits of brain matter I have left decides dinner will be fruit smoothies and a frozen pizza.  Sigh…there’s always tomorrow…

 

Parenting: Everyone is an expert…and then they have kids

When I was young and childless, I knew way more about parenting than I do now.  Not that I consciously thought I was an expert.  I didn’t.  I also wouldn’t have called myself judgmental…clueless would be more accurate.  I would see a certain situation with kids and think why didn’t the parents do this or why don’t the parents do that?  If my parent brain met my pre-parent brain, it would sigh, shake it’s head in disbelief, and walk away; knowing you can’t explain something to someone who has never been there.

Examples of pre-parent thoughts and why they need to be smacked:

Setting: Church

Problem: There is a family with a young boy whose hair looks like he just rolled out of bed, stuck his transformer in a light socket, and then smoothed down the front with Chapstick.

Pre-parent thought:  Really?  You couldn’t have just combed the poor kid’s hair?

Parent reality:  My morning doesn’t run smooth like yours.  It runs from side to side, jumping off couches, and crawling under chairs.  If there is a morning where stuff doesn’t get spilled, meltdowns don’t happen, and constant reminders are few; it’s a good morning.  Even if the kids are complying with my basic instructions (eat your food, brush your teeth, put on your shoes), they are still sloooooow…S.L.O.W….slow.  So, no.  No, I couldn’t “just” comb the poor kid’s hair.  If I combed his hair, that means I won’t have time to throw my own hair into a ponytail.  And you KNOW if you saw a mom without combed hair, it would raise a lot more red flags than a child’s. By the way, he also has some peanut butter on his pants…I’m just glad he’s wearing pants.

Setting: Restaurant

Problem: Child has been playing games on their parent’s iPhone THE. WHOLE. TIME.

Pre-parent thought:  All kids do these days is watch TV and play video games.  Why don’t they make that child put that away and color or have a conversation?

Parent reality: This is the first time we have been to a restaurant in a year and a half.  My now 2-year-old used to scream and cry every time we tried to eat out.  If a video keeps her attention long enough for her dad and I to have an adult conversation (and eat a decent meal), then hell yes I’m going to let her do it.  And what makes you think we let her use our phone when we’re at home…not that it’s any of your business.  Oh, and by the way, she chews on crayons and her favorite thing to talk about is poop.

Setting: Park

Problem: Mom has been talking on the phone for 20 minutes while her child plays

Pre-parent thought:  For goodness sakes, put down your phone and play with your kid!  No wonder kids have issues these days…absent parents, anyone?

Parent reality:  Yes, I have been on the phone for a while.  Why?  Maybe it’s because I have been playing with my little darling all morning and I just want some adult interaction.  Maybe it’s because I have to set up an oil change, make a dentist appointment or hold a meeting.  Maybe it’s because my older son has been getting chronic headaches and I need to talk to his doctor.  Maybe it’s because my friend has been having a hard time and she needs someone to listen.  And mostly it’s because I can’t hold a conversation with anyone unless my darling child is busy.  I love my child and that is why I brought her to a place she enjoys.  And to flip it around, maybe I’m trying to teach my child a little independence. If I followed my child around everywhere you may also call me a helicopter parent.  See how that works?

Setting: Target toy aisle

Problem: Child is freaking out because they can’t get a toy

Pre-parent thought: Geez…what is her problem?  She must get away with this a lot or else she wouldn’t be doing it.

Parent reality:  You see that child standing next to the cart?  Yeah, that 5-year-old little boy who is calmly standing there while his little sister flips out?  Yeah, he’s mine, too.  Yup, same dad.  Uh-huh, parented the exact same way.  There’s this little thing kids are born with called temperament.  It can make you look like a really good parent or a really bad parent.  Either way, I’m doing the best I can and it’s exhausting.

It’s exhausting.  Parenting is exhausting (and wonderful).  If you’ve never done it, don’t assume you know the answer.  If you have done it, don’t assume you know the answer.  Each child is born with their own complicated map.  Some maps are simple and easy to read…you know where you’re going and you get there.  Other maps seem to have a whole lot of unnecessary crap and just when you think you know where you’re going, the map deceives you and the off ramp you were looking for doesn’t connect to the highway…and the map is pissed you can’t read her mind.  (Sigh)…Darn maps…If only there was a Siri for parenting…

So the next time you see a parent struggling to hold on to a floppy fish of a toddler or see a zombie of a mom navigating the grocery store while sticking a sucker in her screaming child’s mouth…stop…smile at her…and tell her she’s doing good. That may be the only positive thing she hears all day…and as the saying goes: The days are long, but (as everyone reminds you) the years are short.

 

The best Christmas gift you can give yourself: A break!

Like most, I LOVED Christmas growing up.  The festive music, brightly colored lights, shopping for gifts, the anticipation of Santa’s visit…it all made December magical.  One of our family traditions was to make a Christmas chain out of wrapping paper to count down the days until Christmas.  As a kid, it meant the number of days until we could open gifts.  Now that I’m an adult, it means the number of days I have to get everything done.

I remember when I was 13 an adult asked me if I thought the holidays were stressful…ummmm, what?!  I had never heard of such a thing.  Why in the world would Christmas be stressful?  They might have well asked me if opening presents was painful or if I wished I went to school year-round…huh?  To me, holidays and stress were at the opposite ends of the spectrum.  And that’s how it should be.  A child should not know the stress that adults feel, but why do adults feel stressed?

Here is why:

Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, we have about 30 days to do the following…

1. Buy a Christmas tree (Saw off the end right before you put it up in your house, vaccuum up needles that fell off in the process, put on lights, maybe a ribbon, and let your kids help put the ornaments on…finish decorating after they’ve caked the bottom 2 branches. Water tree)
2. Take a photo of your family for Christmas cards (Find a free morning/afternoon/evening, pick out clothes for everyone that fit/are clean/coordinate, get kids dressed/hair combed and hope they’re in a smiling mood.  Have your kids sit next to each other and do anything to get them to show their genuine smiles.  After telling them to “SMIIIIIIIIILLLLLE”, dancing like a fool, and making up silly songs; you still haven’t captured a good photo.  You’re so ready to be done with this photo shoot (and so are they!) that you say some naughty things just to get a smirk (Did you poop your pants and do a dance? Poop, poop, poopity-poop, poopity-poopity-poopity-poop!).  Not proud, but it works.  BAM! Photo is done!) *Go water the tree
3. Put up Christmas decorations (Stockings, garlands, homemade decorations, figures, Christmas chain, wreaths, the list could go on and on) *Go water the tree
4. Put up lights outside (Wait for a “warm” day or at least a day where you won’t get frostbite.  Plug in all the lights to make sure they work.  Figure out where lights should go.  Get out ladders and wind, staple, fling, untangle, wrap, and clip on lights.  And if you’re really into it, set up yard decorations and have extension cords criss-crossing your lawn like roads on a map. Come inside with it half done because you can’t feel your fingers and your sick and tired of doing it.  Finish in a couple weeks on a freezing cold weeknight.)*Go water the tree
5. Go Christmas shopping (This involves several trips to multiple stores and sometimes going back to the same store several times.  Research prices online, order online, return things you ordered online because they weren’t what you pictured or you find them cheaper some where else.  Get gift cards for teachers, bus drivers, babysitters, etc.  Buy items you offered to donate to your child’s school holiday party.)*Go water the tree
6. Order Christmas cards (Find a good deal, pick out design, write a message, go to order, put in coupon code, realize your code has expired, find another site and start all over.  After several tries, order cards and hope they ship faster than they say they will.)*Go water the tree
7. Christmas parties/cookie exchanges (Work- find an outfit to wear and a babysitter, friends- find an ugly C-mas sweater and a babysitter, school- find a babysitter for your younger kids, send in pajamas for the pajama drive, a book for the book exchange, and candy canes for the craft station. Buy cookie ingredients, have your kids “help” mix the ingredients, bake them, have them get a little overdone and wonder if they’re still okay to bring to the exchange.  Ugh. Start over.)*Go water the tree
8. Wrap gifts (Wait for the time when your husband is gone with the kids, find where you’ve hidden the presents, try to remember who you bought what for, wrap, wrap, wrap some more, run out of tape, MacGyver the last couple presents with glue and ribbon so you can be done wrapping before the kids get back.)*Go water the tree
9. Send Christmas cards (Stuff cards in envelopes, buy address labels, format addresses to print out labels, push print…watch sheet come out with the printed addresses 1/4 of an inch off , reformat, print, reformat, print, reformat, print, throw labels up in the air and punch them on their way down.  After they land on the ground, kick them.  Sit down at the kitchen table and write all the addresses out by hand.  Let out a “WooHoo!” after you write your last address.  Pick up the envelopes and tap them on the table to straighten them out.  Sit back to admire your work.  Notice you wrote all the addresses upside down.  Let out a “SON OF A BI…(see your kid’s eyes peaking at you from the other room)…SCUIT!”  Put the envelopes aside and send them out once you have stamps.  Decide you just want to be done with this project and load the kids in the car to go buy stamps.  Put stamps on all of the envelopes, stick them in the overflowing mailbox, and toot your horn as you drive away to signal one more thing crossed off your list.)
10. [Insert other Christmas obligations here]

If that’s not enough, every time you go on Facebook you see all the many concerts, breakfasts with Santa, holiday parades, crafts, and gingerbread house displays that you should definitely be taking your kids to.  And if you check Pinterest, your front door should look like it popped off the front of a Pottery Barn catalog, your cookies should be too cute to eat, and at least half your decorations should be homemade using saws, drill bits, glitter paint, and handblown glass ornaments.  And on top of THAT, we have to continue with our responsibilities of work, kids, laundry, cooking, homework, cleaning, sports teams, church, exercise, family, volunteering, etc., etc., etc.

So it’s no wonder this time of year is stressful for many people.  There is a lot to be done.  However, I don’t think it has to be this way.  A lot of the pressure I feel at this time of year is trying to make everything special and fun for my kids.  If I think about my childhood and what I remember being special; it was nothing that took a lot of work.  Here is what doesn’t matter to a child:

A perfectly decorated Christmas tree– they just want a tree with some lights and ornaments…and they want to help.

Christmas cards with a professionally posed picture– they don’t care about this at all, but they like getting them.

Gifts wrapped with elaborate bows and a sprig of berries– you could wrap their presents in newspaper and they wouldn’t care…they just want to open it as soon as possible

10 different kinds of meticulously decorated cookies– kids just want sugar…a lot of it.

Running to every special event going on in town– they just want to play, do a couple special (and simple) things, but mostly just spend time with you.

Stressed out parents– they just want you to be happy.  When you’re happy, they’re happy.

(a perfectly imperfect gingerbread house)

Bottom line, give yourself a break.  If you enjoy doing it, then do it.  If you don’t, ask yourself it will matter to your kids in 10 years.  If the answer is no, don’t do it.  If baking isn’t your thing, buy the cookies.  If parties aren’t your thing, decline gracefully.  If a crowded holiday village isn’t your thing, then go sledding with your kids instead.  We all have are strengths, use them.  Don’t make other people’s strengths affect your expectations.  Think about what’s meaningful to you and your family, keep it simple, and watch the Christmas spirit go back to becoming your thing.

Holidays: Crazy kids or Crazier parents?

Holidays are a magically crazy time for kids.  They’re magical for the obvious reasons and crazy for the not so obvious…

Have you ever wondered why some kids go absolutely bonkers around the holidays? Have you possibly blamed it on their excitement or too many treats?  I have another theory.  Maybe, just maybe, could it be it’s because we (adults) contradict ourselves throughout the festive seasons and confuse the heck out of our little charges?  Not following me? …come along for the seasonal ride and you will soon understand.

Valentine’s Day-

Normal day:  You can have ONE piece of candy.  Any more and your teeth will fall out.  I’m not mean…I just love you.

Valentine’s Day: Here’s a WHOLE box of chocolate…because I love you.

Normal day: No, you cannot run outside pants-less! That is not appropriate.  Ever.

Valentine’s Day:  Go hang up these cute plump people all over the house.  They’re not naked…they’re cupids.  Totally different.

Normal day:  No, no, no.  You cannot pretend to shoot people.  We do not condone violence in this house.

Valentine’s Day:  See those cute little people flying around with weapons?  Yeah, when they shoot that arrow at someone it means they love them.

St. Patrick’s Day-

Normal day: Respect other people’s cultures.

St. Patrick’s Day: Today, kids, we’re going to dress in all green!  Dad is going to dye his beard orange and dance around like he’s a leprechaun.  I’m going to talk with a limerick all day…okay, lassies?  Who’d like a wee bit of juice this morn’n?

Easter-

Normal day: There isn’t a normal day for this next one…it’s just ridiculous on it’s own.

Easter Day:  Smile for this nice photographer.  I realize you’re sitting on the lap of a rabbit 100 times bigger than normal (who can’t talk, wears glasses, and looks really, really creepy), but look happy!  Why are you crying?

Normal day: No, you cannot go out and play in that…those are your nice school clothes!

Easter Day: Go put on your Easter outfit so we can go to the easter egg hunt OUTSIDE.  It’s going to be so much fun digging through weeds and crawling under trees…to get candy!

Normal day:  Don’t play with your food

Easter: Lets take these hard-boiled eggs and draw on them and then maybe we can dip them in some food coloring. Hmmm…it needs something else…I know!  Glitter!

April Fools Day-

A day devoted to being deceitful…no explanation needed.

4th of July-

Normal day:  It’s 8:00, time to go to bed.  No talking.  It needs to be completely quiet in here.

4th of July: It’s 10pm…you can’t go to bed yet!  The fireworks just started…Don’t you like these obnoxiously loud fireballs?

Normal day: Don’t play with fire.

4th of July: Hey, watch Dad go light that rocket and run away as fast as he can so he doesn’t blow his hand off.  No, it’s completely safe…really.

Normal day:  Don’t play with fire.

4th of July: Now, hold this metal stick while I light the end.  No, I’m not kidding.  It’s super cool…trust me.  Now swing it around really, really fast.  It’s called a sparkler…isn’t it fun?

Halloween-

Normal day:  No, you can’t go outside.  Why?  Ummm, maybe because it’s pitch black out.

Halloween:  We can’t go trick or treating yet!  It’s not even dark!

Normal day: Don’t talk to strangers.

Halloween: Lets go to these random houses and ring their doorbell.  No, I don’t know who lives there…just say trick or treat.

Normal day:  You don’t need more candy.  You need more vegetables.

Halloween:  You’re tired?!  But your pail is only half full!  We need to go to more strange houses with spooky decorations and get more candy!

Thanksgiving-

Normal day: You have been watching TV for an hour.  No more.  Go find something else to do.

Thanksgiving:  Lets all sit down and watch this 3 hour parade where people are sitting on top of moving vehicles and no one is wearing seat belts.

Normal day:  No eating before dinner.

Thanksgiving:  Come on in and help yourself to some hors d’oeuvres…in our room designated for eating before dinner.

Normal day:  No, you can’t have dessert…you didn’t even finish your dinner!

Thanksgiving:  Don’t give me any salad…I have to save space on my plate for the good stuff!  Plus, I need to save room for a piece of pie…or two.

Christmas-

Normal day:  No you can’t bring that stick in the house…there might be bugs on it!

Christmas:  Look out, coming through!  I’m just going to set this entire tree in our living room that I just cut down in the forest and dragged through the snow.  Ain’t she pretty!  Yup, I’m gonna give it something to drink, too.

Normal day: Don’t talk to strangers

Christmas:  See that man sitting over there with the red velour suit and the fur collar?  Yeah, that big guy over there with the ginormous dirty gray beard.  Yup, you’ve never met him before and funny, neither have I…go sit on his lap.

Normal day:  We came to Target to get groceries not to get toys.  I don’t care that you want it.  We need to start thinking about other people instead of ourselves.  You know there are a lot of kids out there who would love to have the toys currently sitting in your room.

Christmas:  Your relatives want to know what you want for Christmas.  Make a list.  Put a lot of stuff on there, too, so they have options.

Normal day:  You don’t need to use so much (toilet paper, tooth paste, tape, glue, etc.).  That’s wasteful and expensive.

Christmas:  I just bought these 10 rolls of wrapping paper, 2 bags of bows, and 5 things of tape.  Will you help me wrap all these gifts with this beautiful paper so it can be ripped to shreds tomorrow? This isn’t wasteful, it’s fun!  Plus, we don’t want your brother to know we got him a tennis racquet.  You think a wrapped tennis racquet still looks like a tennis racquet?  Well, at least he won’t know what color it is.  Oh, and remind me to pick up some gallon size garbage bags to collect the mountain of ripped wrapping paper.

Normal day:  Don’t let strangers in. Ever.

Christmas:  Yeah, you know that random guy at the mall?  Yes, the the one I forced you to sit on.  He’s coming down our chimney tonight…while we’re SLEEPING!  Eek!  Aren’t you excited?!  You’re not going to sleep a wink tonight…

Yeah, the poor kid isn’t going to sleep tonight because he thinks you’re about to let a COMPLETE STRANGER come into your house.  Not only is he going to eat the cookies mom just made, but he may even smoke a pipe and play with your toys!  Do you not see the problem here, people?!  We instruct kids to follow our rules ALL YEAR and then a holiday rolls around and we do and say crazy sh*t!

We contradict everything we have been telling them and then wonder why they go nuts.  All of these traditions seem innocent enough until you look at them through the eyes of a child.  I don’t think it’s the holidays making kids crazy…

Hurry up or we’re gonna be late…

Why are we always running late to school?  This is a question that has baffled me until I started to pay closer attention to our “Hurry up” morning routine…

My son’s elementary school is an early start school.  After much research, the school district has come to the conclusion that high school kids need more sleep and are better able to learn if they have a later start to their day.  That decision has led to my son’s school to start at 7:55am.  I understand the thought process…young kids are early risers and older kids are night owls.  What hasn’t translated through the research, however, is a parent’s ability to get young kids moving through several steps in order to get out the door before the bell rings.  In other words, their bodies are awake, but their brains and ears are not.

With that being said, this is how it goes…starting at 3 am (or somewhere in that vicinity)…

Thump! I hear the sound of little running feet coming towards my bedroom.  Open my eyes to see the top half of 3 yr old son’s head.  Whispering he says, “Mom, I can’t sleep”.  Lift Son #2 in bed and roll him to the middle.  Get kicked, head butted, and breathed on until I hear the running footsteps of Son #1 coming to my bed (6am).  Roll over to see Son #1 staring at me.  I tell him to get in and he ungently (not a word, but totally accurate) crawls over me with his bony knees and elbows and lays in the middle next to his brother.  For the next 30 min, I listen to yell whispers (oxymoron, but again…totally accurate) of “Don’t touch me!” “Moooooom. (Son #2’s) leg is touching me!” “Scoot over” “I was here first!”.  Until I’ve had enough and yell whisper back, “You know what?  I WAS HERE FIRST! This bed is made for 2 people and there is currently 4 warm bodies occupying it…if you two can’t be quiet, then go back to your own beds!”.  Then I hope and pray that they will because I’m too darn tired to follow through with my threat.  The boys finally provide some peace, but there is definitely not any quiet.  Now that they’re awake, they decide to use the comforter as a tent and pretend to set up camp between me and their “sleeping” dad.  I say “sleeping” because there’s no way he actually powered through that chaos, but he’s doing a stellar job at pretending.  While I’m glad the bickering stopped, I’m not going to get another wink of sleep with what feels like little squirrels under the covers and talk whispers of whichever character these “squirrels” have taken on.

Next thing I know the phone alarm goes off.  Funny…when I picked my alarm sound it seemed like peaceful bells…when I hear it at 6:30am the peaceful bells sound as soothing as a jackhammer and I fittingly want to crush it to pieces.  I hit snooze.  Boys ask if they can go downstairs.  Ummm, YES!  Please do!  Boys ungently crawl out of bed and run down the stairs to use the computer and watch cartoons.  I lay there for 5 minutes, tell myself I will get up at the count of 20.  Get to 20 and decide 50 makes more sense.  Hell, I’m almost to 1 minute so I count for another 10 seconds.  Take in a deep breath and fling off the 2 inches of comforter that was actually left for me to use.  Roll off the bed like it took more energy than lifting 10 bags of groceries and finally grab my phone and turn off the upcoming 2nd alarm.

I would just like to point out…it’s still before 7am.  School starts in about an hour and we have gotten exactly zero things checked off our get ready for school list.  I stand up and start walking to the boy’s room.  Start getting a head rush, but I’m too tired to care that the world is turning to black.  May or may not run into something on my way to their closet.  Pick out boy’s clothes.  (I realize with having 2 boys, this task goes way faster.  If I had 2 girls, this task would add 3 or 4 more steps…or 10 or 12).  Bring boy’s clothes downstairs and throw them in the family room to be put on after breakfast.  For older kids, it would definitely help the get out the door routine if they put on their clothes right away.  With younger kids, this would add an extra step because inevitably there is going to be yogurt, syrup, juice spilled on shirt, pants, socks (I don’t know how it gets there, but it does). I don’t feel like picking out 2 outfits for the morning so the pajamas stay on.

Start making breakfast in the toaster oven.  Get school snack for Son #1 while waffles cook.  Have trouble finding a snack because the school says it has to be healthy and “healthy” is hard to come by when we’re talking non-perishable.  You think about an apple, but he doesn’t like the skin.  You think about peeling it, but he doesn’t like when they turn brown.  A cheese stick might be good, but they get soft and mushy if they’ve been out for a while.  Maybe I should throw a yogurt in a baggie with an ice pack, but then you realize the small ice pack is sitting on the counter from yesterday’s snack. A room temperature ice pack might keep it company, but it definitely won’t keep it cold.  Start wondering if a yogurt will keep without ice or if it will turn to poison before…”beep, beep”…waffles are done.

Get waffles on plates.  Cut up waffles, pour syrup next to waffles and think of adding a healthy banana.  Cut banana to make a smiley face and set food on table.  Tell boys it’s time to eat.  Get cups and pour juice.  Add some water to the juice because you’ve heard juice is the devil and maybe watering it down will make it not so bad. Bring juice to table and notice there aren’t 2 little boys sitting down yet.  Tell boys it’s time to eat for 2nd time.  Watch Son #1 slowly shutting the computer.  I’m talking so slowly that I think if he cranked his head low enough he could watch an entire episode of Scooby Doo til the credits end.  Tell them to “Hurry up!”.  Son #2 announces he has turned into Slow Man while moving towards the table as if he is walking through a house full of Jell-O.  Tell Son #2 we don’t have time for Slow Man and to “Hurry up” before his waffle gets cold.  Both boys finally make it to the table and announce they don’t like bananas.  Tell boys I don’t care if they like bananas and they should instead be thanking me for breakfast (and for trying to make it fun).  Son #2 says, “Thanks, but I’m still not eating the banana”.

Sit down at table so I can have Son #1 read his practice book that needs to be read 3 times and returned so he can get a different practice book at least 3 out of the 5 days of school.  Have Son #1 take 5 minutes to read 10 words on first page because he’s trying to eat and look at the cartoons over my shoulder.  Shut off cartoons so he can concentrate.  Cartoons shutting off leads to younger brother’s mouth turning on.  Try to get Son #2 to stop talking so we can finish book.  Realize school starts in 25 min and tell him to “Hurry up!”.  Son #2 tells me he has syrup on his arm and needs to clean his hands.  Tell him I’m not going to help him wash his hands until he’s done eating because we’ll have to wash them again anyways.  Look at Son #1’s chair and notice he’s no longer in it.  Yell for Son #1 and realize he’s in the toy room.  Ask him what he’s doing and he tells me he’s playing.  Remind him we don’t have time to play and to come finish breakfast.  He comes back to the table and tells me he wants another waffle. I tell him he can’t have another waffle until he finishes his banana.  Son #2 tells me he can’t eat his banana and I see he has managed to mush it into a blob on his plate and “paint” a monster on the table.  Go over to pick up the sticky mess and notice waffle remnants all over the floor.  Wonder how much food actually found its way into Son #2’s mouth.  Son #1 tells me he finished his banana and is ready for a waffle.  I tell him great job, but since it took so long to eat the first one we don’t have time for another.  I reassure him he will have snack time in a couple hours anyways and realize I still haven’t packed him one yet.  Ask him to please get dressed while I take his little brother to wash off his hands.

Get Son #2 cleaned up and wonder how he managed to get banana on his forehead and the back of his pajama pants.  Start to help him get undressed and tell him he has to go to the bathroom before we put on his clothes.  Son #2 lays down and tells me he’s sleeping.  Tell him I don’t care if he’s sleeping and if he wants to decide when he goes to the bathroom then he needs to stop peeing his pants.  Sleeping son turns into Slow Man on his way to the bathroom and I look at Son #1 to see if he’s dressed yet.  I tell Son #1 to “Hurry up” and put his clothes on.  He tells me he is, while standing there with nothing but a sock on his left foot and a skeleton mask covering his face.  I tell him we have to leave in 15 min or we’re going to be late. I turn back to see Slow Man finally enter the bathroom.  Help Slow Man get his business done.  Slow Man turns back into normal pace man (Son #2) and I help him wash his hands. He complains that I put soap on his hands because “you’re supposed to get your hands wet first”.  Tell him it doesn’t matter and we need to “Hurry up!”.  Son #2 gets distracted by his own reflection in the mirror and starts singing to his new best friend.  Tell Son #2 I love his singing, but in order to get your hands clean you must rub them together.  Grab Son #2’s hands to get the job done faster.  Son #2 gets mad and says “I can do it myself”.  Start to leave to see if Son #1 is dressed and find him standing there with pants and socks on while staring at the now turned on TV.  Tell him if he’s not dressed by the time I finish helping his brother (who is yelling at me to help him turn off the water), then he’s not going to get to have dessert tonight.  Help Son #2 and yell to Son #1 to go brush his teeth when he’s dressed.  Son #2 runs out of the bathroom and says “Mom, watch me!” as he flies head first onto the couch.  Tell him that’s great and he says, “Mom, watch this!” as he jumps up with both legs parallel to the floor and lands on his back.  Tell him cool and hurry over to the stairs so I can get out of my pajamas and into something a little more public appropriate.  Son #2 asks me to watch him again and I tell him we don’t have time, but then I watch “one more”.

I run upstairs to find Son #1 fully dressed (YES!) and kneeling on the bathroom counter, while staring at his teeth in the mirror.  Beg Son #1 to PLEASE “Hurry up”or we’re going to be late.  Get myself dressed, hair pulled back into a pony/bun, and brush my teeth.  While Son #1 is finishing his teeth, I take a wet hand towel and try to tame his crazy hair.  Get his hair to at least stick straight out instead of straight up and decide a hat can do the rest of the job.

Run downstairs to get Son #2 dressed while telling Son #1 to get his shoes and jacket on.  Find Son #2’s clothes and realize Son #1 is wearing Son #2’s pants, which used to be Son #1’s, but are now about 2 inches too short.  Tell Son #1 to change pants as fast as he can, while I try to wrestle a shirt on Son #2.  Realize this process would have been a lot faster if I would have had Son #2 put down his fistful of toy figures before trying to put his arms through his sleeves.  Finish getting Son #2 dressed when he informs me he hasn’t brushed his teeth yet.  Tell him we have 10 min. to get to school and he can do it later.  Happily find Son #1 with his shoes loosely tied and his jacket on.  Bend down to tie Son #1’s laces into a double knot and have Son #2 jump onto my back and lovingly wrap his arms around my neck in a chokehold.  Tell Son #2 to please get off, I love his “Hugs”, but we’ve got to get out the door ASAP!  Tell Son #2 to put on his rain boots even though it’s not raining, while I smush a hat onto Son #1’s head and grab one for myself.  Son #2 asks me if his boots are on the right feet and I tell him no, but it doesn’t matter.  Son #2 starts taking off boots to switch feet.  Tell him we don’t have time for this and realize I still haven’t gotten a snack for Son #1.  Grab some healthy(?) fish crackers and throw them in his backpack.  Put backpack on Son #1 and grab the first jacket I see to throw on Son #2.  Put jacket on Son #2 as we’re walking to the mudroom.  Find random, adult-size hat to throw on Son #2.  Tell boys to go ahead in the garage.  Have them stand there while I put on my shoes.  Open door to garage and have Son #1 climb into jogging stroller and Son #2 sit on the front.  We don’t have time for a leisure walk so they both need to ride.

Realize I forgot my phone and run back into the house.  Not that I’ll need to call anybody, but I will need to know exactly how many minutes we have left until the bell rings. Run out of the house with my phone, shut the garage, and start speed walking to school.  Realize we have 5 min to get Son #1 into school, walk to his locker, put away his stuff, and get to class.  Start running to school.  Boys pretend they’re on a roller coaster.  Appreciate their imagination, but tell them it’s hard to push in a straight line when they’re swaying back and forth.  Pass parents walking towards their homes after having dropped off their kids 5 min. ago.  Realize how crazy I look running, but know I don’t have time to care.  Pull up to the back doors of Son #1’s school and slam on the brakes.  Give Son #1 a hug and a kiss and tell him, “Have a great day!  I love you!  Now run!”.  Son #2 wants a hug too, we don’t have time, but I can’t say no to a brother’s request for a hug so tell them to “Hurry up”.  Witness the sweetest thing ever between 2 brothers and realize how lucky I am.  Tell son #2 that’s enough hugging and Son #1 needs to “Hurry up”.  Watch Son #1 run to the back doors.  Wave to friendly teacher holding the door open.  Wonder if she thinks I look as frazzled as I feel…(realize my pants are on backwards)…yes…yes, she does.  Take a deep breath.  Exhale knowing I can now relax and slow down.  Ask Son #2 if he’d like to play on the playground. Son #2 starts to run to the playground, looks back at me mid-stride and yells, “Mom! Hurry up!”.

Trick or Treat…it’s not about the candy

The leaves are changing to vivid colors, the wind is blowing brisk, and the pumpkins went from being little blossoms to beautiful orange gourds waiting to have their best side carved into a joyful grin or a spooky spider. Halloween is one of the last few traditions of yesteryear and I hope my kid’s can hold onto the magic as long as their spirit allows and neighbors enthusiastically take part.

As a child, the excitement begins October 1st with the first site of a leaf-filled pumpkin garbage bag and cotton strewn spider webs stretched out amongst the front yard bushes.  The big decision looms before you of what alter ego you are going to take on when the 31st arrives.  As a child of the 80s you had 2 choices; homemade or store-bought from Target (you know…the ones neatly hung on a piece of cardboard that all looked the same, minus the printing on the plastic “bag” and the cheap mask). Growing up with 4 siblings, we were never given the option of buying a costume so our options were to use our imagination or have mom try to sew us something.  We had many winners (Care Bear, Strawberry Shortcake, warewolf, farmer, bum) and some losers (clown, mime, Rock ‘n’ Roll Baby (what does that even mean?!)).  Each year we would grab our pillowcases and trek from house to house trying to fill our bag with as much candy as possible.  Yum, Snickers!  Alright, Nerds! Whoa, Astro Pops!  And then there were the…thank you for the orange and black wrapped peanut putter kisses.  Oh, some pennies and a nickel…thanks.  And my favorite was from some bachelor having a raucous party of his own…wow, an apple…you’re too kind.  Yes, as an adult I realize it was nice for these folks to open their door at all let alone give us something for ringing their doorbell. I also understand that maybe they gave out the gross candy so they wouldn’t eat all the leftovers.  Either way, it was never about the candy.  No, I’m serious.  Okay, of course we enjoyed eating the Kit-Kats, Reeces Peanut Butter Cups, and the Twix in all it’s cookie-caramally goodness; but that wore off after a couple days.  By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, there sat my lonely trick or treat pillowcase that still made a crinkly sound when you lifted it with over half the candy collected still in tact.  No, it wasn’t about the candy.

The magic of Halloween was a whole event; dressing up until no one recognizes you, the excitement of seeing your friends, running from house to house without your parents, sweating off your face paint (Indiana) or trudging through the snow with your costume mostly consumed by winter jackets, hats, and mittens (Minnesota).  After the exhilaration of ringing strangers doorbells and having them kindly complement your costumes, dodging spooky lawn decorations with cackly laughs and haunting howls, and seeing the dusk turn to street lights and star-lit skies; it was time to go back to your house and dump out all your loot.  I loved sitting in my family room with rosy cheeks and stories to tell; while drueling parents checked out your well-organized piles of Slo-Pokes, Baby Ruth, Almond Joys, Butter Fingers, Dum-Dum suckers, and the not so fond piles of JuJubes, Bit-O-Honeys, and it’s worth mentioning again; the black and orange wrapped peanut butter kisses.  After counting, organizing, bartering, and reorganizing…it was usually late and time to get ready for bed.  After changing out of my costume and into my PJs, my mom would take petroleum jelly and try to get off the remaining smeared face paint from my cheeks and eye brows. My head would hit the pillow and I would drift off to sleep grinning thinking of another childhood memory made and how fun it will be in the morning when I can relive it all again with my friends at school. Halloween was magical.

I’m now well beyond the days of carrying around a pillowcase, but with two young boys in their prime trick-or-treat years; I’m seeing this holiday again through their eyes. The boys love dressing up and everyone is so generous and kind with their ooohs and ahhhs over their costumes. When walking up to each door, their heads bobble all around looking at the moving skeletons, watching the smoke machines fill the air with clouds of white, and trying to figure out which window is throwing out those spooky sounds. After they stand on their tippy toes and push the door bell a friendly face opens the door. We prompt the kids to say those magic words and the smiling person opens their screen door a crack, just big enough for the candy bowl to fit out the door. I can see their little eyes take on the size of silver dollars as they see their favorite candy laying amongst all the shiny wrappers. They stick out their dimpled hands and slowly pick a treat. In most cases they’re told to take a few more and after they come out of their “is this really happening” trance; they say thank you and run off to the next house. The boys love every minute of this magical night…and so do I.

I sadly realize there will come a time when they no longer have the same enthusiasm for dressing up. I understand that eventually it might not be the cool thing to do. I hope it’s later than sooner. And if they ARE still wanting to dress up and go out with their friends when they’re 13 or 14, I hope our neighbors are kind enough to realize the fun and innocence of this childhood tradition. And most importantly I hope they understand…it’s not about the candy.

Dear Nike, Adidas, Under Armour…Please Change Your “Swag”

Dear Nike, Adidas, Under Armour, and so on,

Sooooo, I am in desperate need of some t-shirts. I often buy plain-colored tees because I’ve come to the conclusion that cute ones don’t exist. I’ve looked at several stores and they seem to be either geared for the younger crowd (think, Hello Kitty and Mr. Happy) OR they want to start a fight in a suburban street (“Faster and Stronger”). Why is it that every sporty tee has some phrase trying to intimidate the people around you?

 

I am a mom in her 30s who is just trying to go for a run…I do NOT need a shirt to insult my fellow runners/walkers/bikers. “Hey old lady walking her dog”…”FIRST PLACE ALL DAY!”, “Hey teen boy riding your skateboard”…”FEEL MY SWAG”, Hey cop letting me cross the street…”CAN’T CATCH THIS”. Most phrases fall just short of “You Suck!” and “I’m Awesome!”. Yup, not the image I want to project.

I think Nike (and most of the other top brands) think we all want to feel and look like a bada$$. While there are times in my life where I do feel like a bada$$, I do not want to look like one. And just to be clear, those “bada$$” moments are not when you would think. They are not when I hear people cheering me on while running a race. They are not when I’m fighting for my last set of bicep curls at the gym. They are not when I’ve created my own lake front property (i.e. pool of sweat) in pilates class. Nope. The times when I feel most like a bada$$ is when I have been a great mom, wife, sister, daughter, friend; and still feel like I have had time to be good to myself.

Please, for the love of all people without a chip on their shoulder, make a tee that is positive. How about, “YOU’RE Beautiful”. “YOU got this!”, “You’re Stronger than YOU think”. If those words don’t fit your brand image, then forget the words and just slap a cute design on there. Your customers will thank you and so will your skyrocketing sales.

PS- Boys tees are just as bad. We want our boys to be humble, kind young men…Please change your “swag”.