This past week, Fix headed into the closet.  Not the metaphorical closet, but a room in our new terrace level that was slated to become a walk in closet for Big and myself.  During Fix’s week of vacation from work, I think he actually worked harder than normal.  Perhaps this week back will be somewhat of a break for him; different stressors, but more of a predictable routine.

Due to some interesting scheduling with our other children, Fix and Casanova (now 9) were the only vestiges of testosterone remaining in the home.  So, the two of them headed downstairs to begin the three day project of demolition, design, and rebuilding a space for clothing and storage.  The male bonding time seemed to be highly beneficial for both of them (and my clothing.)

Casanova got to play apprentice and spent most of the time selecting nails and screws from the slosh bucket, handing off tools, carrying supplies, and running the stairs to give the mommies periodic updates.  But there were other times he was hammering, drilling, measuring and marking.  He learned some important safety techniques and the thrill of handing power tools.  At the end of their hard days, they shared a round of Monster golf and a (root) beer. And above all else, they collective, but powerful father/son mentoring time; it was the thing memories are made of – for them as well as the proud Mommies that watched from a distance.

As I reflected on the two of those guys, I realized how much they learn from each other.  I was reminded once again just how much love can be transferred through the actions of others.  And I recalled something I wrote several years ago and never posted…

~ the laundry goddess, June 8, 2009

His Hands

His hands are thick and solid

Rough and calloused to the core

Leathery tools of steel are they

Displaying of years of toil

Those hands go off to work each day

For our family they provide

With his loving care I see

His hands are filled with pride

Our hands are very useful

They do so many things

But his hands hold a special touch

They give my soul their wings

The times those hands may touch me

Leave image on my skin

For when he is no longer here

I can still feel where they’ve been

His touch is warm and tender

His touch soft and like a dove

His touch is filled with passion

His touch speaks words of love

I crave his very essence

I’m addicted to his touch

I long to have him understand

I love him oh so much

I see the time is coming

When those hands may loose their power

Then I can give my strength to him

Imparting true love’s finest hour

goddess, 12-01-06

This morning one of our chicks is taking a huge leap from home and away from the protective shelter of our nest.
Miss Academic is jetting away on a school trip for the next 9 days to Greece.
We are all pleased and excited for her to be able to have this wonderful opportunity, but we would not be mothers if there were not trepidation over this journey.
One of our younglings is traveling half a world away, far from our reach… she goes with our love and our blessings.
We hope each of you will take a moment over the next 9 days to send her a bit of heartfelt good energy to help us keep her safe.

Have a wonderful time darling ! We love you….

The Mommies

The four year old has been relentlessly reminding us that today was President’s Day.  She knows this because it is the day after breakfast dinner and the kids are not at school.  (It is typical preschool logic.  Breakfast dinner = Sunday; the next day = school.)  Thusly, if the kids are home on a school day, something big is up.  The something big is actually report cards (teacher workday) but the county uses President’s Day as the excuse to let the kids stay home.

About the 90^th time she came to inform us, “Today is President’s Day!!!” Temptress snapped back, “I know…  and they’re all dead.”

To which our precious lobbyist retorted, “Barack Obama isn’t dead!” 

So, does that say something about our home and the attention this election received?  Our four year old thinks she is on a first name basis with the president. 

Maybe it is just a powerful representation of the hope we all have for our nation.  Maybe some of that hope will rub off on other aspects of our life that could use some new hope.  Time for Change…  it’s a powerful idea.

For those of you who may not yet be of the opinion that mass market advertising and the power of internet makes an impact on kids, read on…

Our son Stinky (age 10) has to be the most eclectic child on the planet.  A not so subtle mix of sensitivity and pure gross-ness, this child and his creative mind is a constant source of resigned humor to the Mommies.  Said child has earned the rank of Safety Patrol at his school and therefore must arrive 30 minutes early each morning on alternating months.  So we’re on our way to school this morning, when the following conversation ensues:

Stinky:  “I think we should get a large bag of Toxic Waste.”

Taxi Mom:  “And what exactly would you do with a bag of Toxic Waste?”

Stinky:  “I would jump in it and get some super powers!”

Taxi Mom:  “I think, perhaps, jumping into a bag of Toxic Waste would not give you super powers,” (and now with visions of 1980-something RoboCop movies dancing in my head) “Instead, it would probably peel off all your skin; you would melt and there by be dead.”

Stinky:  “That’d be cool.”  (thoughtful pause)  “Hey Mom…  Do you think a Radioactive Bug would work?”

Taxi Mom:  “Ya, perhaps.  But where do you think we could find a Radioactive Bug?”

Stinky:  On eBay!!!

Once I collected myself from an overwhelming case of laughter, I pictured this child 25 years from now…

• A mad scientist type with a creepy but effective cure for leprosy involving some sort of third world flesh eating entomology he discovered while paddling down the Amazon with his dog; or perhaps
• One of those college Professors that seems all too eccentric but is most certainly the most brilliant individual on the planet, and everyone wants to take his classes so you have to camp out the night before schedules are due to make sure you get in this time; or perhaps he’ll be
• The straight laced type who becomes famous when his now grown children publish in his honor a collection of short stories he used to make up for them when they were kids.

Parents, no matter how much they want to deny it, always have preconceived notions about Who and What their kids will become.  We take this parental pride and add it to the child’s base personality sprinkled with bits of grandiose accomplishment.  We want kids to grow and develop into every ounce of potential instilled in them by The Creator.  That tiny thing we held in our arms years ago had inside of it every wonderful possibility.  All we have to do is try hard not to mess it up; to guide without suppression, to love without dependency, and to release without guilt.

In 1992, my God gave me the first in a series of miraculous gifts.  Each and every day since then has been a glimpse of Deity’s Divine.  Good luck finding that on eBay.

~the laundry goddess, November 7, 2008

There was an issue with YM 16 (Drummer Boy) last night. After Fix’s reaction last night and then the anger that was thrown at me this morning, I questioned whether or not the discipline that was handed was appropriate. I was planning to blog and to ask you, our readers your opinion.  Much to my surprise I see Fix has beaten me to it.

There was a time in my life, pre-marriage, when I aspired to be the perfect mother. I was once praised by friends and family to have the “patience of Job.”  I played a very incremental role in the raising of my brother (12 years my junior) as well as my roommate’s two daughters, born while we were young college students. And then I married Fix and became the instant mother to a 3 yr old daughter.  Unknown to me at the time, this little girl would test everything I had or believed about parenting. And in fact would change me and the way I parented, and was not a change that was for the better. Her emotional issues are still a struggle for myself and family to this day.

Over time the patience I once had, diminished.  The mother I aspired to be disappeared and I became a shoot first ask questions later sort of parent.  My own bio children were being parented in a way I knew was fundamentally incorrect, but I felt trapped and unable to make the change I needed to. And then our oldest turned 18 and left home and I was going thru the “finding myself” phase I have spoke of before. I was making baby steps toward change, but with no backup from Fix, the changes were small.

When the quad came together I found strength and support with Goddess and Big to be the mother I always knew I had in me to be. To parent a way that empowered my children and kept their self esteem from taking a bruising. More than anything else I think this threw Fix. Of all the changes I was making, this one was HUGE and was just one more thing in me he did not recognize.

For the last 3 years I have found the patience that was once buried, I have discovered my ability to listen and then to weigh all of the points of matter and create a discipline that will teach a lesson and not tear down the self esteem of a young person.

I was given a lot of wonderful messages as a child. And I was also given a few messages that hurt and that I fight daily to overcome. I know I am far from perfect and that I will leave scars on my children, but it is my sincere hope that the positive messages far outweigh the negative and when they reach a point in their lives that they look back at their time as children, they see and understand I did my very best to show them that they were loved and valued and that when a wrong was committed I was able to act fairly and attention paid to teaching a lesson without harming their psyche or belittling them.

The issue over the weekend was a young man showing very poor judgment. He took money from my purse to purchase time on an online game site. When I realized said funds were missing ( $20) , I questioned certain members of the household including Drummer Boy . He as well as the others denied any responsibility.

In an offhand conversation, Scout  ( YM14) mentioned that he and Drummer Boy had discovered new things on said online game, thanks to the new membership status of Drummer Boy.

I did some investigation on price of game and method of purchase used and then compared that to what I  knew of Drummer Boys whereabouts and finances ( he had been given $10 the day before for gas for his moped and dinner at the H.S. Football game  his JROTC crew was presiding as security for), and came to the conclusion that indeed he was responsible.

When I discussed my suspicion with Fix his immediate answer was that since money was taken then the punishment should fit the crime and we should take money in return. Money in the form of Drummer Boys birthday cash. I should also take his moped keys for a period of time not determined.

While the birthday person is the one who receives the gifts, it is my view that the reason we celebrate a birthday is to celebrate the person and their place in our lives and to show our love and appreciation for them by the gifts we give.

I refused to use his birthday gift as discipline and requested other options, and in fact wanted the four parents to discuss it. Big came in preparing to leave for an appt. I asked if he had time to talk he said he really should be leaving…. Fix got upset at that response and left the house to return to his apt. leaving the discipline in my (our) hands.

I called Drummer boy in and discussed the matter with him, letting him know I had a lot of circumstantial evidence and that I suspected him of wrongdoing. It took 30 minutes of me sitting silently and waiting for him to come to terms with his deeds. But it paid off.

He was able to finally look up and look me in the eye and admit to the deed AND to apologize. This was a HUGE step for this boy given his history. I knew what I did from here was going to  mean more than a discipline. I needed him to see that I knew how hard admittance was, that I was appreciative of the apology and that what he had done was wrong and carried a consequence.

In my mind, since he took the money to buy something he wanted, a fitting consequence was to do without that thing which he purchased and then some. So he was grounded from all computers for a period of 90 days, the term of the online membership. I also logged in to his account, changed the account address to my email and changed the password so IF he tries to use it at a friends house he can not access it. I also advised him, that upon employment in the coming weeks, his first paycheck will be dedicated to making sure I receive compensation for the funds taken.

Also, driving his moped is a privilege, one given out of trust. Since he told me he was using his moped for purpose A, and in fact used it to commit his dastardly deed, he has lost his moped for a period of 4 weeks. And finally, just because I have begged him to do it for 3 weeks…. I have restricted him from going anywhere until his room is clean to the Mommies standard.

These punishments may seem light to Fix, but I am of the opinion that it suitable. I will say this. If Drummer Boy had not admitted to wrong doing and had not apologized of his own accord then I had other consequences in store, along similar lines, but more tough.

I needed to reward his honesty, not tear him down and yet offer a discipline that was painful and would convey to him that his actions were out of line. I think I have accomplished that.

We as humans are not meant to remain the same. We are always evolving and changing.

And as painful as it if for those who knew me before to accept, this is me now. And I hope in the end I am a better me.

I hope that I have become the kind of mother my children need me to be. I hope that I am able to impart messages to them that conveys my love, and teaches lessons that they can take into life and be strong, healthy and honorable adults.

One thing I have learned in my journey is that not everyone gets healthy messages. And sometimes it takes a persons  entire life to overcome the negative messages that they were taught as children. And some people are never able to.

Temptress

“One hundred years from now it will not matter what your bank account was, the sort of house you lived in, or the kind of car you drove; but the world may be different because you were important in the life of a child.”