Rejecting Reality

hate the news. I try to avoid it. When Modern Daddy and I sit down at the table with the paper I dive right into the Life & Style section. I read local interest articles, poke fun at celebrities, and laugh at Baby Blues in the comics. It's not that I am a head-in-the-sand type of person. I know that there are big bad things out there in the world, along with a plethora of little bad things and the occasional truly evil thing.

Children, however, aren't born with this knowledge. They're born open books, waiting to accept whatever love and comfort will be offered. I am blessed in my life. My children are surrounded by a loving family. They have too much food, a big house, and too many toys. Evil, to them, comes in the form of Disney witches or robotic warriors. The good guys always win. I want to wrap them up in my arms and keep them frozen in time. I never want them to realize that's not always the case.

Today Modern Daddy and I were discussing the depressing reality of a little seven-year-old girl who was walking home from school and never made it. We were talking in parent-code, assuming that our children were too absorbed in their play to notice. So when Glitter Fairy Princess turned to me and asked, "What happened to the little girl, Mommy?" I had to look away. I couldn't meet her eyes when I told her the truth. "She got lost honey, but they found her." Because she didn't understand that there's a difference between "found" and "safe."

My heart mourns for that family. It mourns for the countless others who face tragedy every day. And a very, very selfish part of me mourns for the innocence that my children will lose when they learn the difference between those words.

In the meantime, I choose to reject reality. I will play princess dress-up with Glitter Fairy Princess and the biggest danger will be falling in our precarious high-heels. I will play Matchbox cars with Little Man and the only casualty of the crashes will be my dinged-up baseboards. I will read them fairy tales and make up stories and faithfully change the channel when the news comes on. I will pray with them for health and safety but also for joy and thanksgiving.

I know that soon Glitter Fairy Princess will see the world and the evil in it, and that Little Man will be right behind her. I just pray that the reality we create in our home will prevail. I hope that I'll be strong enough to hold their hands and calm their fears honestly. I just haven't figured out how yet.

An Open Letter to My 20's

Dear 20's,

I have to be honest with you, I'm not exactly sad to be parting ways. It's not that we didn't have good times together. I've been so blessed with so many gifts during this time, and I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful. I met my husband and gave birth to two amazing children. I will miss certain things about you, to be sure.

It's just that I won't miss that feeling of uncertainty in the pit of my stomach as I step onto campus for a new semester. Or the frustration of not being taken seriously in the workplace because I seem "so young." I won't miss the arguments that came with the first year of marriage when two very strong-willed people were learning each others limits and quirks. I won't miss the heartache and hormonal fluctuations that came with trying to conceive. I won't miss the bed-rest and fear for the tiny life that came when we were finally successful. I won't miss the six to eight postpartum weeks that kicked my ass mentally and physically with both children.

So what will I miss? The open-mouthed baby kisses, those first precious smiles, the tiny flutter of feeling a life inside of me making itself known for the first time. I'll miss those nervous butterflies that come with a first kiss and the wonder of realizing that I'm in love and that perfect someone loves me back. I'll miss the brash confidence in my body that came with a high metabolism and a halter top. Sometimes I'll miss the carefree feeling of not being responsible for anyone but myself and the ability to stay in my pj's and play PlayStation all day.

But looking at my life now, at 30, I'll gladly accept the challenges this decade poses. I'll wear my stretch marks with pride and earn my gray hairs chasing the children you've blessed me with. So you see, it's not you, it's me. I'm glad to be 30, but I know there are plenty of girls standing at the edge of 20, waiting for you show them the women they'll become. I hope you're as kind to them as you've been with me. So thank you, and goodbye.




<--Modern Mommy and Modern Daddy in 2002

Do you have ANY IDEA how far away Maui is???

Mothers tell all sorts of harmless lies to themselves. Prime examples would be "These jeans shrunk," "I'll fold that laundry in the morning," and "I'll work out tomorrow." The lies that aren't harmless are the ones that we tell each other. You know, "Oh, no, he's not sick. He just has allergies." Or "We don't drink soda in our house." But the worst lie of all? "Oh, I love traveling with my kids! We wouldn't vacation any other way!" Beware of anyone who tells you this. He or she is either lying through their teeth or certifiably insane. In fact, I'm pretty sure after taking both kids to Maui (which is 10+ hours of flying away) I am now certifiably insane and I still won't lie to you about it. Flying that far with two kids and then flying back is my new personal definition of hell. Why do you think this post has taken so long? I had to wait until my kids were both sleeping through the night again until I could objectively look at the vacation and say "Oh, how fun!"

Now, before you judge me and my love for my children I'd like to say that we DID have a great time. Maui was unbelievably gorgeous. It was amazing. But Little Man doesn't like the beach. Or being hot. Or sleeping anywhere that's not HIS crib in HIS room here at home. Glitter Fairy Princess was WONDERFUL. She was well-behaved, she loved the beach, and she thought the waterfalls and waves were "pretty cool." But she really just wanted to be at the resort pool making "new friends." The sheer majesty of Hawaii was a little lost on her.

So, how did we survive? With one simple secret: We brought my parents. If we had attempted this vacation without the two extra sets of (very patient) adult hands I'd probably be tweeting this post from a hospital following my mental breakdown. But the plane wasn't NEARLY as bad as it could've been. My dad is the "baby whisperer." Little Man spent most of the plane time (there and back) on his lap or chest. GFP spent most of her plane time playing my DS (thank you "Build A Bear Workshop" and "Wonder Pets" games.) I spent most of the plane time thanking God that I was already on anti-anxiety medication. ("Leg room" is apparently a term of the past.)

As for our time there, well, words don't do it justice.

Maui Sun 2009 from Leigh (Modern Mommy) on Vimeo.

Our trip to Maui, August 2009.

And, just because I know you want to know, these are the things that we did while we were there.

We ate. Well. And a LOT. Our personal favorites? The Hawaiian sweet rolls from the Kamoda Store and Bakery in Paia and the Hawaiian Shave Ice from Ululani's Hawaiian Shave Ice in Lahaina. I got the "Tiger's Blood" flavor. Coconut and Cherry. OMG.


We went on a "Sunrise Bike Tour" but thanks to Tropical Storm Felicia it was too rainy and cloudy to see the sunrise. We did see an amazing rainbow, though.


We went snorkeling and to the beach, despite Little Man's objections. Of course, Modern Daddy got caught in the current (no one told us the trade winds whip things up at 2 pm every day!) Consequently he got stung buy some of these guys:


My parents and I went ziplining while MD watched the kids. This is a shot down into the valley that we were zipping over.


And, OF COURSE, we went to a luau. GFP even got a lesson in doing the hula.


It really was amazing. I can't imagine a better vacation. GFP keeps asking why we can't live in Hawaii and I just want to sit and stare at the pictures all day. I know we'll be back someday.

But maybe we'll wait until the kids are old enough to entertain themselves on the plane..

Faunasphere Stole My Baby! Oh, Wait... I Meant "Free Time."

If you follow me on Twitter, Facebook, here, or are my children you've noticed that I've been a little, well, preoccupied lately. No, no, I'm not talking about my undying love for Eric Northman. (I've been very careful to hide that particular love from my husband and children. *wink*) I'm talking about a new casual game from Big Fish Games called Faunasphere.

It's one part The Sims (you play as animals that you care for and breed to get desired traits), one part Duke Nukem (you zap "viles" and pollution to make their home planet liveable), and a very VERY large part of community-driven fun. When I began playing about a week ago I was blown away by how friendly everyone was. Need food for your fauna (animal)? Just ask, you'll have three or four offers of help almost immediately. It's refreshing to be able to play a game with my 4 year old beside me and not worry about things she'll see. (She IS beginning to read, after all. I usually can't have her too close when I'm emailing. *sheepish grin*) GFP loves when I play this game, though. The fauna lay eggs when they're leveling up and you can hatch them. They don't come out carbon copies, though. The animal you end up with is a combination of factors, which is why my horse had a unicorn and my gorilla had a cat. Believe me, GFP has VERY strong ideas about what fauna we should have. I'm currently in a quest for a pink bird. Because "that would be pretty cool!"


See my pretty pretty Unicorn??


Oh, and my cat? She just "hatched" that egg.

The game is currently in beta testing but you can go to the site and sign up to be on the waitlist (I was told this takes around a week.) Or, leave me a comment stating you want an invite and I can get you one immediately courtesy of Big Fish Games. First two comments asking for an invite get one. Have fun, and if you join the "sphere" let me know! (My username on there is EmeraldRay.) I'll be running around as a black unicorn.

Cultural Adventures with "Ni Hao, Kai-lan"

Glitter Fairy Princess loves the show "Ni Hao, Kai-lan" on Nick Jr. so when I was asked if I wanted to host a giveaway of the new DVD I was all about it. I even have a Kai-lan tshirt. I did not take a picture of myself in it, though, because it (*cough*) shrunk (*cough*). In fact, Kai-lan helped her make one of her best friends in school this past year.

GFP's best friend in preschool this year was a little Asian boy who didn't speak any English when he started. When she first met him she was thrilled because Kai-lan had taught her how to say "hello" in Chinese. She followed him around all day saying "Ni hao!" and waving. Unfortunately he was Korean, and didn't understand her. (She was quite angry. "Why won't that boy talk to me Mommy?") But she kept trying to communicate with him and eventually became friends. They both just lit up when they saw each other. (I realize he might not look very thrilled in the above picture, but her name was one of the first English words he learned at school.)

Kai-lan has adorable adventures with her animal friends and teaches important emotional lessons along the way. Lessons like being patient, being a good friend, and calming down are all modeled by Kai-lan. Normally after watching an episode GFP runs around the house repeating the Chinese words she's learned and being nice to her brother. Of course, I don't know if she's telling me the right words or not, but she seems pretty sure. All in all, it's a pretty good time.


In the title episode on "Kai-lan's Great Trip to China!" Kai-lan goes to China to visit her great-aunt and see the birth of a baby panda. It's fun, bright, and educational without beating us over the heads. GFP loved the episode and has seen it repeatedly already. In fact, she was just singing me the "We're Going to China!" song. Now one of your kids (or you, if you're into that kind of thing) can win a copy of this DVD. Just leave me a comment until 12 a.m. Thursday morning. I'll pick a winner on Thursday, July 16th. Even if you don't win, click on the link above to go to Nick Jr's website for Kai-lan printables and games. Good luck!


*****UPDATE!*****

The winner is... Kimba! Congrats, Kim! I especially love that this DVD is for a little boy, proving that you don't have to be a girl to appreciate the show.

And in case you're the type who needs proof, here's a screenshot of the Random.org number selection:

Hobbies of a Little Man

My Little Man is a simple boy. He likes cars. He likes blocks. He likes cups. He likes putting things in things and then taking things out. (Like putting a car and a block in a cup.)
Innocent enough, right?

Except when the place things go in and out of is the toilet. And since Mommy has such a strong reaction to the whole toilet-toy-swimming scenario it just makes it THAT much more fun. I've started keeping a list of things that have taken the dunk. They include:

• Care Bear
• Wireless Mouse
• Dollhouse Refrigerator
• Socks
• Hat
• Markers
• Crayon
• Cups
• Legos
• Christmas Morning Barbie (who GFP swears is really a Hannah Montana doll. Even though she's never seen Hannah Montana in anything but commercials. Which would explain the confusion since Christmas Morning Barbie doesn't have a horsey face. At all.)
  

Now, I have a few things I wouldn't mind being destroyed by a trip on the porcelain bus. For example:

• My to-do list (which never seems to be written by me. Not that I'm bitter.)
• That really irritating talking Princess Ariel necklace that GFP loves.
• That really REALLY irritating "press the button" Spongebob book that Little Man loves. (Imagine Spongebob's laugh. Over and over and over and over again. "Hahahahahahahaha...")
• Modern Daddy's copy of The Negotiator. (Yes, it was a good movie. The first 3 times. But really, do we need to own it?)
  
• Every issue of Real Simple that I own and hold on to. Because it just makes me feel like I should simplify through organization. Which is not realistic. Or simple.

Thankfully he hasn't figured out how to flush. Yet. Something tells me that his big sister is just waiting on the right moment to teach him. Like when she starts getting homework.

Musical Monday #11

I have recently fallen head-over-heels in love with Regina Spektor.

First off, the chick can TOTALLY rock out the heavy eyeliner.
Secondly, I'm a sucker for girls who play the piano. (Tori much?)

Third, she recorded with Ben Folds for his song "You Don't Know Me."

And lastly, she writes songs like this:
"The Sword and the Pen" from the album Far.



But also writes songs like this:
"On the Radio" from the album Begin to Hope.


So while I obsessively listen to her last two albums on shuffle on my iTunes, you should go out and buy them so you can join me. Just don't get mad at me if you go from dancing around your kitchen table to wanting to crawl under it and cry. That's how you know it's good.

As always, you can purchase Regina Spektor's CDs from iTunes or Amazon.com. Or visit her website here: http://reginasplash.warnerreprise.com/

(I recommend the iTunes version for the bonus tracks, including the first song I featured today.)
(And no, I don't get anything if you purchase this CD. But I totally should.)

Taking Back the Living Room... One Corner at a Time.

I have a secret to share with you: I'm a really REALLY bad housekeeper. No, don't worry, you don't have to call Children and Family Services on me. I don't mean DIRTY, I mean CLUTTERY. You know, like the kids may grow up understanding to check the dryer for the shirt they want because Mommy hasn't had time to fold laundry for the past 4 days.

I set my stuff down in a pile and it finds another pile and then the happy pile couple have a gaggle of baby piles and next thing you know I can't see the counter. When you add a husband and two kids to the mix it's disastrous. As much as I may want to rant and rage about the messes that THEY create, it really seems hypocritical. However, last week I just couldn't take it anymore. It hit me: my problem is lack of proper storage! I mean, if I had a place to hide put all the toys I could make the living room seem like a place that adults would want to be in, right?

This was the living room:




So onto Amazon.com I hopped. (What, like I could go out to the store with both kids in tow and find anything? I'm lucky I make it out of Target with detergent and ziplocks without going insane. I'd end up coming home with two more laundry baskets saying "To hell with it!")

I was convinced that if I bought just the right toy chest suddenly my living room would look like this:


(Photo from HGTV.com)


Okay, so we all know THAT isn't happening. But I DID find a toy chest. Fortunately I had proper help. If you ever find yourself putting something together you really must find a helper who can twirl in a princess dress and point at things for you.



And at the end of the day what did I get?


( Yes, GFP did decide she needed a costume change. Yes, she might be the most dramatic 4 year old ever. And yes, there are still toys everywhere.)

It's a start, right?



*sigh*

Musical Monday #10

Today isn't just another Musical Monday. Today is also my 7th wedding anniversary. Unfortunately Modern Daddy isn't around to celebrate today as he is out of the country helping those less fortunate. (Can you believe he was selfish enough to leave me home alone with the kids on our ANNIVERSARY? You and I both know that he's really on a glamorous cruise and those anti-malaria meds were just for show.)

Seriously, though, his big heart is just one of the many things that made me fall in love with him. So I dedicate today's musical pick to him, to our love, and to the family we've built together. I truly am the luckiest.

The Luckiest by Ben Folds

As always, you can purchase this CD from iTunes or Amazon.com.
(Or I guess you could always drive to the store and buy one, but that's just so last year.)

The Best Laid (Hatched, Grown, Slaughtered, and Sold to Publix) Plans

I am not great at many things. Some of the things I suck at include (but are not limited to): cleaning, holding my tongue, math, whispering, rocket science, gardening, crossword puzzles, being on time... Okay, I'm gonna stop there. In retrospect it might not have been such a good idea to list my faults. I don't think my ego is supposed to take a hit on my own blog.

Moving on...

One thing I CAN do well is cook. I'm not talking about gourmet souffle-flambee-french-sounding-words-that-end-in-the-"A"-sound type things, but stick-to-your-ribs homestyle cooking. (I am also exceptionally good at using run-on sentences. I don't know if that's really a skill, but I need the boost so I'm claiming it.) You know: meatballs, mashed potatoes, steak, kabobs, french toast, etc. Utilizing this skill, last night I decided to make a roast chicken for dinner.

I like cooking roast chicken. It always makes me feel a little bit like a legitimate housewife. You know, instead of the slacker modern mom that I am who spends half of her time chasing her kids in her PJs and the other half of her time complaining about it. In her PJ's. So there I was (not in my PJs, I might add) boiling potatoes and measuring stuffing and basting my chicken which was roasting away in the oven. As if she understood my desire to live up to the Betty Crocker of 1955, Glitter Fairy Princess insisted that we get dressed up and have a "fancy-makeup-party" while we cooked.

After an hour and a half I figured it was probably done, so I tested the temperature. And wanted to cry. After all that time the stupid little 4-pound bird was only 130 degrees! Now, if you don't cook this won't mean much to you, but I was aiming for 180 degrees. It's a reasonable goal that should be easily attained after 90 minutes in a 350 degree oven. It's not rocket science. (Which we've established that I suck at.)

My family was hungry. I was hungry. The sides were getting cold. So we did what anyone else would do. We had a big dinner of carbs. That's right, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and salad. And the chicken? Well, it was FINALLY reading at 180 degrees 3 HOURS after I put it in the oven. I don't know what went wrong. The oven is working fine. The chicken was bought fresh, not frozen. It's like I bought a reject chicken that resisted basic principles of cooking. What I do know is that it'll be a while before I attempt to roast another chicken.

Not one to waste, though, I've decided to look on the bright side. Now I have a fully-cooked chicken to use in some OTHER recipe this week. Considering the amount of grief the damn thing gave me last night I'll enjoy picking it apart.

Tamales, anyone?