Is 33 old?

I'm down to my final month of being 32. As I approach my "mid-thirties", I have been giving age a lot of thought. (Yes, I think a lot, and I think a lot about nonsense, but it's better than not thinking and just watching MTV...which I do sometimes too.) I think that I've gumbled through every birthday that I have had since I was 19. I guess it was just because I felt that is what most women do. Today I thought about the positive things about being ONLY 33. Here's my list:
1. I still look like I'm in my 20's. Some may even argue that I'm still in my teens. Yay!
2. I am Asian, therefore I have great age-defying skin. Yay!
3. I have a great son that will pick my white and grey hair for me.(Wierd, I know, but he does this so with much enthusiasm- It's like those chimps on the Discovery Channel) Yay!
4. I am still under the age limit of having a mamogram or a colonoscopy. Yay!
5. I don't get heartburn on a daily basis, unless I SHOVE my McMeal into my McFace. :(
6. I am the youngest lady in my Bunco group...unless someone is holding out their true age.
7. My husband still thinks that I'm "HOT!" (It's true, he said so just the other day)
8. I am young enough to know who Lady Gaga is. Yay!
9. I shop at Forever 21 and I don't think that anyone would think that I was out of place. Yay!
10. I have every right to act immature because I don't look like a grown-up yet. Yay!

So, lots of good reasons to enjoy being 33. For now, I don't mind getting older. I know that I will always be younger than my parents. Come on birthday, BRING IT ON!

The Pocket Knife Incident

How do you raise a boy in this overprotective and overly-cautious society? I often feel like I am doing a poor job. My sons were gifted pocket knives for Christmas. They are 12 and 9. They were appropriate gifts, but in the back of my mind, I had thoughts of "What if they accidently take it to school?" or "What if they accidently cut themselves, someone else, or something?" They're boys! They should do boy stuff. They should be carving wood and sharpening twigs.

And then it happens: A knife is accidently taken to school. The good thing is that my son took it immediately to the teacher. He wasn't suspended. So I become more cautious about the whereabouts of the knives, but when he asks a week later if he can open up a box of Capri Suns, I don't think to check on how he will open it. I just assume that he'll use his hands, like most humans, and rip the box open. Instead, I walk into the kitchen to see a wounded/stabbed juice pouch on the floor lying in a puddle of its own fluids. As I put the rest of the pouches away, I realize that 5 more tragedies have occurred...and I cannot find the pocket knife. I guess I WASN'T watching so closely. Oops!

So do I take the knives away? No. My boys have every right to learn how to use them properly as well as learn when it is appropriate to use them. I take comfort in the fact that we did talk to them when they got the knives about what to do if they accidently took them to school. We discussed with them what was appropriate/inappropriate: EX. using the pen to write, EX. not knife fighting (because I HAVE seen them do that when they were younger when "someone" thought that they were ready for BIG pocket knives....WRONG!)

I found the knife in the afternoon after the Capri Sun Massacre atop one of the other boxes. He told me that he put it down so he wouldn't forget to leave it at home. I realize now that I have been a good parent. We have thought ahead about the possibilities and have made our kids aware of what could happen and what they should do. I certainly counted my blessings on that pocket-knife-afternoon when I picked my son up from school.

So what lessons do I teach my sons about airguns, garden lizards, inappropriate web searching, basic daily hygiene, motivation to do well at school, proper eating habits, foul language, exercise, too much tv?...the list is infinite. The best parents are always thinking ahead so they are never caught off guard. I know that I've been caught off guard a few times and I feel like a terrible mother, but maybe that makes me a good mom because I beat myself up for my parental mistakes and look for ways to keep incidents (such as the renegade pocket-knife-incident) from occuring again.

Life

Do I have one? What does it mean to have a life? I have life. I live. It seems though, these days go by as a flash and I can't remember what happened. Did I enjoy yesterday? I don't know. I don't remember. I guess that means that I didn't dislike it, but it wasn't superior. The one thing that I do remember from every day of my life is that I go to bed exausted, and I wake up the following day in a blur because I am so dang tired.
In order to determine if I have a "life" I decided to log a typical day in my blog.

March 18, 2010
7:00 AM Alarm goes off (Uuuugh...It's the Bible CD set to John. Wierd! So I lay there hoping for inspiration from the Holy Spirit)
7:15 AM Wake up. Tired. Moody.
8:00 AM Get the kids to school
8:15 AM Clean dishes and "work" on the computer (Facebook, e-mail, surf the web.....very important and maybe the highlight of my day)
9:00 AM leave for work
9:20-9:45 AM Sit and stare at my desk
9:45-12:10 Work (try to teach a 6th grader the purpose of slope....my God!)
12:30-12:50PM Start a load of laundry, clear off the table
12:50 PM Pick up Cayden
1:00-1:30 PM Stand at Carl's Jr. waiting....waiting....waiting for chicken stars to feed my boys before a birthday party
1:30-3:30 PM Hang out at the bowling alley and secretly stress out because my son hasn't completed a huge book report that is due tomorrow.
4:00 PM Realize that I haven't had breakfast yet
4:00-8:00 PM help son complete a book report that needs to be completely redone. Get frustrated because he completed it days ago, but hubby and I never looked it over to make sure it was print-ready.
6:45 PM Drive oldest son to Bible study
7:00 PM More laundry
8:00 PM Drive to dad's house to print the book report. (We haven't had a working printer in 2 years.)
9:00 PM settle down and watch 2 episodes of CSI on the dvr with hubby instead of going to sleep
11:00ish PM Bed, Finally!

Somewhere in there Jerrod realized that I wasn't going to make dinner so he put together a pork chop dinner and met with the tile guy.

And the party wasn't typical, so if I were to substitute soccer practice in there instead, it would be a usual day. Oh yeah, and I usually cook a meal for dinner.

So, I know that that's a cake day for most parents. What's my problem? I think that I have actually come to the conclusion that I need purpose in my life. I need motivation to spice up my life. I need goals. Today I am making my goal to get through my average day AND watch CSI at it's normal air-time. I think I can do it, and it will make me happy.

This is what I call life.....and I remember now that there isn't a CSI on Friday. I've disappointed myself once again.

Consistency Sucks!

It's the key to discipline, I know....but sometimes it feels like I am the one receiving the punishment. 2 weeks ago when the decision was made regarding our oldest son's restrictions, I cringed in a major way. I was so proud of my husband for being stern and strong. I was even a little scared myself from the tone of his voice. So when he turned to me and said (asked), "You can make sure that he comes home right away and does his homework. No tv, games, friends, fun....." Well, there goes MY freedom. I can't use the tv as a babysitter or send him outside to play with the neighbor or even his brother. I have to make sure that my son is miserable.

OK. It's been easier than I thought. I believe that it's the teenage mentality, anyways. He's finally done better on his school work and is using his imagination more (to which he once claimed that he didn't have). We've found drips of paint on his carpet and all kinds of wierd concoctions in bowls left on the counter.

It did get worse though. The week before, he and his brother were left in the house as I went to run an errand with the little guy. I specifically told them NOT to play games and then as I slipped into my heaven (bed) that evening (ok, afternoon for my nap...it was suppose to be a short cat nap), I found a stylus (that pen-like thing for their hand-held games). I could no longer leave them alone because I couldn't trust them to obey what I asked of them. I take 3 boys with me everywhere now. It's not that I LOVE to go shopping with 3 boys who all want/don't want something to put into the shopping cart. Don't get me wrong. I LOVE the grumbling that comes when I say, "Trader Joes!!!!!!"

This afternoon was THE BEST! I picked each kid up on my way to the doctor a half an hour away. The first complained that it would be "so boring" and the second was just whining about a hurt toe or something (self-inflicted bike injury caused by trying to stop the wheel with one's toe....duh!) The 3rd, well, he was great. He fell asleep with his head dangling to one side like he was going to choke himself and drool dripping down the side of his cheek. As if things couldn't get any more complicated, the doctor's office greeted my children with lemon water and cookies. That wouldn't be so bad, but one son can't eat butter cookies due to allergies so I hesitated, but the other 2 gave me those "I'm soooo hungry eyes and if you don't let me have just ONE cookie, I am going to complain until you say the words I know you REALLY want to say." We settled on a cookie each and the other had a piece of candy from their lovely cavity jar. The water was another mistake because the little guy took his cup and happily skipped to the beautiful, maroon, suede chair and even more happily, spilled the water into the back crease of the cushion. Now as I cleaned that up there was the issue with the bathroom, but if I keep going, you are going to think that I am incompetent and cannot control 3 boys at once. Well, it's the truth, but I've seen worse.....almost every day!

What a day! It's just not what I've gotten use to in the last year. My trips to the grocery store or the doctor's have become a mini vacation and in one month I've been reminded that in the world of parenting, there is no such thing as vacation. BooHoo!

What Am I? Your Maid?

I am a maid. I am my own maid. I do a crummy job, but I try to clean up after myself. I am not, though, my kids' maid. But for so long I have been acting like it and not treating messes as their responsiblity. So today I snapped...not like yelled and ripped my hair out, found lying on my floor in the fetal position with an empty bottle of wine on the counter....that was a different issue. Today it came more as a lightbulb switch...then in military-like style, came the orders. "Bryson: book, jacket, backpack. Cayden: chip bag, homework, socks.... Rylan: hamper top?" Whatever. He understood. As I spent 1:45 (1 hour: forty-five minutes) cleaning the gum stuck to the clothes dryer drum, I thought that this is TOTALLY unfair. I have my own mess to clean up, and now I'm cleaning this up and I didn't even cause it. I didn't leave the gum in my pockets and I wasn't the one who washed that particular load of laundry....because I'd check the pockets, but I'm just saying, not blaming. I am a parent. I am a mother and I should be respected as a mother. The kids never really complain about picking up their stuff, so why don't I tell them to just do it all the time? Good question. Well, maybe I'm a giver, but I don't think that I am. I don't like to clean up their stuff just for the "fun" of it or because I love them. I'd love them even if I didn't pick up their stuff. I've just become lazy and inconsistent with my discipline. So ask me how it's going in a week and I'll probably tell you that I am so sick of picking their stuff up. But ask me tomorrow and I'll tell you that it's the greatest thing, I tell them to clean up their stuff and they do it. It's like magic! I've learned....that "I am the mom and I lay down the law and for today, I want you to clean up all of your mess so I can do more important things like write about you on my blog".