My Kind Of Monsters

November 8, 2010

realmacgruber asked: Exactly what type of "monsters" do you have? Are they more of an "Eddie Munster", cute-Dracula-type, a PIXAR "Mike Wazowski" cartoonish monster-type, or are they full-blown zombies?

Do you need protection? Were they born in monster form or did they have their monsterdom thrust upon them, like being bitten by a werewolf or the walking undead?

Should I worry about your safety?

It depends on the day, really.  Their moods swing worse than mine sometimes.  Most of the time, they’re totally a Monsters-Inc/Kids-Say-The-Darnedest-Things combo.  Sometimes though, I wonder if I’m really just a modern-day Rosemary.  I find I usually have those thoughts when they’re tired, hungry, or grounded from video games — you know, basic needs and all that.

As far as zombies, I think sometimes they wish they were zombies.  However, we’re not really talking zombies a la Night of the Living Dead or Zombieland.  They run around with make-shift traffic cones and orange sand buckets on their heads defending their territories with imaginary plants that wield different offensive/defensive capabilities.  Yes, my little zombies prefer to eat plants most of the time.  Which is perfectly fine by me, actually.  I don’t think I’m ready for them to be too terribly interested in the logistics of death and flesh consumption.

My mom wrote a little poem (which I can’t seem to find now) about her grandmonsters and illustrated it with a pic she found and edited to fit.  I think, given both of our limited knowledge and expertise with photo editing software, its a pretty perfect graphic representation of the two of them.



And as far as safety goes, well, lets just say we haven’t seen MY monster graphic representation yet. *wink*

You Just Do

cluelessfather asked: This is a self-answering question sort of comment like thingy...You know what impresses me more than people who climb Mount Everest?

Single moms with multiple children.

I honestly have no idea how you (and others) do it. But congratulations on raising two terrific looking kids. Although it's great to have a blog (they are the modern day diaries) I highly, highly, highly doubt there will by any need for it to serve as any sort of reminder by the time they reach the age of 15.

I am certain your love and the sacrifices you made for them will be something they never forget, particularly as they get older and have the experience and knowledge to understand the depth of such devotion. 

I never realized it until now, but it feels really damn good to be acknowledged and appreciated, even it happens to be by a stranger. :)  I can only hope that as they grow, they see the same things and that you are absolutely right. Your post really touched my heart.  In fact, I’m actually crying as I type.  (I, like you, tend to be a little on the sensitive side, it seems!)


I guess, like any parent, I don’t really stop to think about what I’m doing or have done to get to where I am until someone brings it to my attention. 

I can honestly say during the course of my life as mommy, I never stopped long enough to think about how we’re going to get from point A to point B, how long it will take, what we’ll need for the process, who may or may not be tagging along, etc.  There is no procedure.   The mentality has to be to just do the best you can with what you have, and get through it.  Take each day as it comes, put the kids before anything (always, always need time for yourself, though), and basically do what you have to do to survive.   

I know people often comment about the trials of being a stay-at-home parent, or a two-parent-to-one-child family, and I sometimes will catch myself thinking try it alone with two, dude.  I won’t lie to you, when I actually stop to think about what it takes, it’s freaking hard.  And the worst part of all of it is the “mommy guilt.”  You know - that feeling that you’re inevitably doing something wrong that is going to screw your kids up for the rest of their lives, like letting them play with the iPod every night for an hour so that you can cook dinner after a 9-hour work day without them chasing each other screaming through the kitchen; or wondering if maybe the little one’s temperament stems from your inability, when he was months old, to hold him during feedings, or letting him “cry it out” because you had to change his two-year old brother’s diaper or get him lunch or keep him out of the dishwasher and away from the cabinets and off the stairs and OH SHIT HE FOUND THE DOGGY DOOR… and… and… ; or for all of those times you yelled or completely lost control.  

I’m sure some of these feelings may be a bit ridiculous, and some may be pretty typical, but I can’t help that they strike every now and then.  Especially when E-V-E-R-Y time I turn around, there is a brilliant new publication by some brilliant new psychologist/therapist/pediatrician/child development specialist with a brilliant new idea on what to do and what not to do and how to be the perfect parent.  I mean, I know the little one’s temperament likely stems from a lot more than just “mommy didn’t hold you” (there is a background with that kid and his conception and entrance into the world that cuts deeper than the birthing scar I bear), and I know the iPod probably isn’t killing any brain cells because the amount of use is pretty regulated, but does that make it stop?  Not even close.  But when it comes down to it, there’s no amount of parenting advice in the universe that can teach someone how to sacrifice their whole lives for that of another – or in my case, those of two others.  Changing your priorities, focus, and direction have to be conscious decisions - and there is no manual or brilliant new idea that can teach that.  

So, when faced with the question, “how do you do it,” the only answer that really comes to mind is  you just do.   And I guess at the end of the day, when the house is quiet and I’m alone with only my thoughts, and the questions and guilt and exhaustion start knocking at the door – that’s really the only thing that keeps me going.  

You. Just. Do.

 

Monster See, Monster Do

For some, being entertaining seems to come more naturally than it does for others.  Being fresh to this whole blogging thing, I have found it a little more difficult than I had originally anticipated to get what I’m thinking out there in a way that is as funny, witty, and entertaining as it appears in my head.  And I have to say, I’m a little jealous of my kids when it comes to this ability.  For them, it seems entertainment, whether finding or creating it, is a cakewalk.  For my kids, funny seems to just come naturally.  They are hilarious - and not just because I’m their mom and I think that they eat rainbows and poop butterflies - but because they really are just funny, and the kicker is that they don’t even know it.

For example, I’m in the kitchen making dinner one night and my four-year-old rushes in and stops in front of me all like, “Hey mom, check out THESE babies!” As I turn to look, I see him rotate his arms downward and flex in serious muscle-man fashion, then lift each arm to his mouth, one by one, and KISS his biceps!  KISS HIS FREAKING BICEPS!  Then he runs off and I just stand there, laughing and shaking my head as I ask myself “What just happened? Was that my kid? He’s FOUR YEARS OLD, where the crap did he get that from?”

And though I can usually count on the little one always being a character, his brother definitely has his moments, too.  One day they were both playing some imaginary game that involved light sabers, kung-fu moves, live-action sound effects, and the couch as a spring board (which is something I’m not too incredibly thrilled about and is the source of repeated time-outs - but we will save the couch kung-fu for another time).  On this particular day, CJ had the brilliant idea that part of his kung-fu mastery display would involve a running leap onto the couch, followed by a full somersault roll over the chaise lounge and back onto his feet.  Only, it didn’t quite go as planned.  Instead, he ran toward the couch, jumped up and landed on his knees, bounced off of the cushion and over the side of the chaise lounge, and landed flat on his butt on the floor.  Before I could even ask him if he was alright, he leapt up off of the floor and announced “I’m OK!  It’s alright, I’m OK!”

Of course I just sat there and laughed.

When I ask myself why it’s so much easier for them to be so funny, the only answer I can come up with is sheer lack of inhibition.  They are so far away from caring what anyone else is thinking, doing, feeling, or saying that they’re just free to do and laugh at what they feel is funny, and say whatever is on their minds. Now, I know I’m not the first person on the planet that has ever made this connection (in fact I’m pretty sure it was this same basic concept that led to the development of Wacko Jacko’s Neverland Ranch), but what I’m essentially saying here is maybe it isn’t such a bad thing to act like a kid sometimes - to throw the confines of every day responsibilities and the realities of your life away for a moment, embrace a little immaturity, laugh at the silly things and just be happy to be.

I know I’m no philosopher and I have no degree, but it seems to just make sense to me.  Especially lately as I’m struggling with my own take on the world and where I am in my life.  Like a lot of people that have made personal sacrifices to raise kids, I’m still juggling that age-old question about what and who I want to be when I grow up.  Part of me is content with the pieces I already have in place (I always wanted to be a mommy), but another part of me longs to do so much more with my life.  I guess what it essentially comes down to is this: do I want to be the kind of person that takes themselves and everything else so seriously in order to achieve my goals, that I make it virtually impossible to enjoy the small things that surround me every day?  I know that I don’t.  And I think it’s in these times of questioning and self-doubt, what I really need most is to be able to laugh and let go - and there really isn’t anyone I know who is better at laughing and letting go than my monsters.

So, even though I am the one that is supposed to be leading by example and molding and shaping them into the functioning adults they’re meant to be, I find that, from time to time, I am actually looking to them as the examples as they mold and shape me.