The McDonald's Playland...

...a little piece of Hell on Earth. I've never been in a McDonald's Playland as an adult, and don't recall visiting one as a child (though I may have blocked it out to preserve my sanity) - nor would I have chosen to go on this particular night, but circumstances prevailed and there we were.

Let me just start by saying, if the hooligans I saw last night are any indication as to where our country is headed (parents included!), we are all in BIG trouble. There were two of us amongst the 30 or so parents crammed in that room that were normal - we wore the same "deer caught in headlights" expression and scanned the room continuously just waiting for the riot to break out. The others - most there for a birthday party- looked content as they watched their children kick, bite, scream, yell, shout, vomit, push, shove, and spit at each other. I, of course, didn't realize that there was a "Nice children not invited" birthday party going on, which was my first mistake. My second was allowing Brendan to see the play area - once he spotted it, there was no way we were leaving without trying it out. Now, I have to admit, the sheer gleam in Brendan's eyes and his utter excitement clouded my better judgement, and in we went. Brendan stripped off his shoes like an old pro, and with the help of cousin Cameron, entered the mayhem. Halle and I sat on the sidelines and prayed.

Brendan and Cameron became one with the deviants, and at one point I heard a little girl screaming, and a little boy growling, obviously chasing her - as they came into view, it took only a moment for me to realize that it was MY little boy growling and chasing the little girl. Oh, how proud I was - my little deviant in training.

At last, the party ended. When the parents came in from their smoke-break, it was time for them to round up the troops and head out. During this process I discovered even more reasons to never step foot in a playland again...I saw one mom put her daughter's shoes on at least 3 times, only to have her daughter run over to say "goodbye" to a friend, remove the shoes, and get back in the brightly colored child magnet. I saw kicking and screaming, crying and pleading and a whole lot of threatening - "We will NEVER come back here again if you don't get down here right now!", "I'll leave without you!", and my personal favorite, "If you don't come down here, I'm coming up to get you!" (Now that would have been funny to see) . Finally, after 15-20 minutes of bargaining, begging, and ultimately carrying screaming, kicking children out to the car, it was down to Cameron, Brendan, Halle and I. It didn't even take much coaxing to get the kids out of there, I think they were completely worn out.

Unfortunately the experience was not forgotten, for Brendan asked me this morning, "Mama, when are we gonna go back to that fun place?" Fun?

It's Only a Phase...

Phases. Why do all kids go through them? To make us crazy? I've got two kids, with totally opposite personalities, going through two totally different kinds of phases as we speak. And, the real kicker is the phase that Halle is currently in, Brendan never went through - go figure. Halle is in a very clingy, very whiny phase which I think (HOPE!) is being caused by her teeth; she's currently sprouting 5 or 6 new ones, and they all came in within the last week or two. Brendan, on the other hand, is entering a defiant/sassy phase, another surprise for me since he's been completely obediant up until now. So, I end up with one kid that's crying because I turned my back and she could no longer see my face, and one kid that turns his back on me and calmly does exactly as I just instructed him not to.

There are little glimpses, here and there, of my old children, though. Like last night, while Brendan was taking a bath, and out of the blue he turned to me and said, "Mama, I'm sorry for talking back to you yesterday." Or on the way to town this morning when Halle was dancing up a storm in the back seat, just enjoying the music.

Phases, I suppose, occur so that when the little monsters go back to normal, you appreciate your angels that much more.

Spoiled?

Are my children spoiled? I ask myself this question from time to time, especially as I walk through my living room, or their bedroom and take note of all of the toys, games, puzzles, cars, trucks, dolls, stuffed animals, and various other forms of entertainment that line the floor, sit on shelves, and fill their drawers and closets. I also wonder as I'm shopping when, much of the time, I have to resist buying yet another "thing" for one of them. The thing is, I really enjoy buying the kids things; I love their excited little faces and hilarious reactions. I love seeing them learn from the gadgets (i.e. these two placemats we bought Brendan - one has letters on it, the other is a map of the United States; he can now point out where several states are, knows which state - by name, and location on the map - we, and all of his Grandparents, live, and knows most of his letters by site - which I think is pretty good for a little guy whose only been three for one week!). I love seeing them having fun with, or cuddling with, something I picked out. I love the feeling I get when they are sooo appreciative and literally shaking with joy. I love everything about giving them something they adore... Perhaps this is more about me then it is about them!

If I were to honestly answer the question though, I'd have to say that I really don't believe they are spoiled. You see, despite them having a lot of "things" I don't feel they have any sense of entitlement for these items, nor do they beg uncontrollably when shopping, nor do they not appreciate the things they have. So, for now, I think we're ok.

The Art of Multi-tasking

I've always been pretty good at multi-tasking, juggling (no, not literally!) several balls in the air at the same time, and staying sane while doing so. Nothing, though, compares to the amount of multi-tasking that comes second nature when you are a parent.

I really, really enjoy it though, as crazy as that may sound... It's as though I have a little daily challenge that I can conquer, and at the end of the day, when I lay down in bed knowing that the kids are fed, and clean, and happy, it makes all the hustle and bustle worthwhile, and I wouldn't change it for the world.

I'm Somebody's MOM

Parenting to me is one of life's great journeys. The time goes so quickly that often living "in the moment" doesn't allow for much reflection about the time that was had. I'm using this space to write about parenting, and reflect upon my journey. Perhaps some will read it, perhaps no one will, but if you are reading - ENJOY!

To this day, the fact that I am somebody's mother amazes me. I look at my parents, I look at my friends with children, I look at my coworkers, and folks at the grocery store - they all "look" like parents to me. They look fully capable, fully in control, and fully aware that they are indeed in charge of the little people running at their feet. Then I look at me, and while I'm fully capable, and fully in control, it's as though I cannot fully grasp the fact that I'm actually a MOM! This past weekend Cary and I took the kids to the playground, and as I swung beside Cary pushing Brendan, with a sleepy Halle sitting contentedly in her stroller with her upside-down thumb in her mouth, I marveled in the fact that we created these two amazing little people.

Cary and I have been seriously contemplating having another baby. It's not so much a question of if, but when. I find myself looking, practically daily, at the scrapbook I made for the kids, and dwelling on their baby pictures; the hospital photos, the "coming home" photos, the first grin photos, and so many others. I miss the tiny cries, the contented sighs, the little bundles, but most of all...the amazing feeling of becoming a parent one more time.