Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Jun 8, 2009 in Parenting 101
Jordan-Brian Age 5
Einstein said, “Space and time are modes by which we think, not conditions under which we live.” Really? Then he must not have paid much attention to his son, because our children are a constant reminder that time is quickly passing.
I witnessed a dose of time this weekend when I turned around to face two teenage boys in front of me. Cousins raised around each other since birth now stand as tall as me.
This year they start high school.
Jordan - Brian Age 14
No wonder I see the crowsfeet around my eyes and slight wisps of gray hair.
Another thing has changed with time. They’ve gone from being a couple of gigglers to too cool for school teenagers.
Now if I could just get Brian to put his dirty socks in the hamper before he is 25 and my face is hanging somewhere under my neck.
Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Feb 12, 2009 in Parenting 101
When I first became a mom, I was informed that during the toddler years, Brian would make huge strides physically, intellectually, and emotionally. These stages of development are called milestones. Once our children reach grade school we begin to forget milestones, until we are slapped upside the head with the teenager one: the hormone milestone.
With it comes a new form of communication language which I didn’t study for two years in high school and one year in college.
It’s mostly mumbling sounds of “Ugh” or some sort of short, grumbling noise-thing which makes me think I’m going deaf from all the rock concerts I went to in the 70’s and the too loud 80’s music I danced to (OK still dance to).
Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Sep 26, 2007 in Parenting 101
If you have to ask me why I work so hard at maintaining a friendship with my ex, then you cannot imagine just how much I love my son. If you hint that I might be crazy because of the lengths that I go to … I silently laugh at you. Because…
all I have to do is look at this face
as he stands with his Dad.
or,
his body language as he walks away.
I would gladly suffer a thousand more heartaches to give him joy. What can I say? I’m a mother.
Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Aug 27, 2007 in Parenting 101
I don’t exactly know when it happened.
When did I become “uncool”? When exactly did Brian reach boyhood, the stage between child and adult?
I think we parents are notified of these amazingly irritating, trans-formative times when we are handed our new room with a view by our kids.
Submitted for your review, my view of the Scandia parking lot while I wait for Brian to come out from a pre-teen birthday party on Sunday.
You see, I wasn’t allowed to go inside to get him – THAT – oh dear God no – would be too embarrassing, so I was asked in a begging, pleading tone by my son to please just pick him up in the parking lot.
It was when I was sitting in the parking lot for 20 minutes, without a book - or a newspaper, in such sheer, utter boredom that I realized I had better get used to this new view. It dawned on me that my son has entered the my parents are sometimes cool, but mostly embarrassing years.
ME?
(Sigh) It’s official: I’ve become my mother.
I am beginning to see why parents are happy when their children get licenses. They no longer have to share this view.
Brian will be 16 in four years, which means that I have 4 more years of these types of views.
Screaming and shaking her head no, Catherine has run away.
Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Aug 22, 2007 in Parenting 101
A child left at home alone after school is exposed to extreme inherent danger.
If they call us at work 30 times an hour to have us referee a sibling rivalry – figure out what to eat – tell us they’re bored – or complain about whats on TV – we parents can hurt them.
OK – a little extreme – maybe we can just move out of state.
Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Jun 27, 2007 in Parenting 101
In my previous rant about what food Brian simply won’t eat (or sit near) I forgot to mention one rather large fact about children, OK, mainly Brian.
He currently don’t do charcoal.
Now, don’t get your nickers in a twist here thinking, “He hates barbecue??”. Hell no, he loves barbecue. If you could barbecue his eggs and cover them in hickory barbecue sauce he’d be in breakfast heaven. If you invented a good barbecue steak flavored milk shake he’d probably drink two in 5 minutes.
No, the charcoal I am referring to is the type that appears when you overcook food just a weeeeeeee bit.
For example:
Does this toast look burned to you? See that tiny bit of black on the left side? (Get out your magnifying glass). That qualifies as “kid-burnt icky” and ruins the other 90% of the toast. Ok, lets just be reminded that Brian doesn’t eat crusts of bread, so why do we even care if the crust resembles a used candle wick? Ummmm, because that is using logical thinking and there’s no logical thinking allowed when it comes to kids – stop using logic or you will end up with a lifetime prescription of Prozac.
If you dare burn this-
you may as well throw this grilled cheese disaster away, or eat it yourself. Kids will run from the room like this sandwich is on fire. Ever try the “scraping-with-knife-until-accidentally-cut-finger” move? Yeah well, kids won’t eat it after that major plastic surgery scrape job, even if you stand there begging with your bloody stump. The boys will be more fascinated with the blood anyway, so what were you thinking …
Dinner and a show?
God forbid, you burn the skin of the barbecue chicken. If you dare peal the skin off to save yourself from hearing the whine, “Iiiiiiiittttttttt’ssssss burned mom!” you will get the other whine, “Where’s the skin?? It’s my favorite part!” The dog will eat burned chicken skin though…
God, I love that dog. She loves everything I burn cook.
Ever try-
to feed any kids burned hot dogs at a birthday party? You will just find them eating the hot dog bun with catchup only (no mustard – remember mustard is a toxin) and feeding the burned hot dog to the dog, the cat, the bird – any moving creature that will take that burned thing away from them NOW. Brian will just resort to eating chips.
And please explain to me
why a child would eat almost the whole pizza and then say,
“It was just ok. It was a little burned though.”
“Only part of the end of two crusts were burned, son.”
“Yeah that’s why it was just ‘ok’.”
No wonder parents finally resort to this for kids: