Attention Moms (and Dads, too!)

From the day you announce your pregnancy, you enter into a world where you are constantly given advice!  Don't get me wrong.  I love to get advice from other moms who share parenting tips and strategies that work for them.  I learn so much from my friends who are parents, especially those with children who are older than mine.  I mean, they've been there..... in the trenches of parenthood..... where the kids are closing in and you are unsure where to fight, surrender, or run away!  Don't act like you don't know what I am talking about! :)  The helpful advice is always welcome.  The support is great, too.  After a particularly stressful Joey episode today, one of my co-teachers said to me, "This too shall pass!"  I needed the reminder.

However, it is the unsolicited, unhelpful advice I have a problem with.  If your "advice" is meant to insult my ability as a mom or insult my child, it would be especially helpful if you could just keep it to yourself.  Every mom has those moments where she questions if she is making the right parenting choices.  Every mom has her moments of doubt.  Therefore, shouldn't we encourage other moms during these moments instead of bringing them down further?

For those who are unaware, I am a mom of three.  Each of my children are a gift, unique, and precious.  Each have their own challenges.  My oldest, has down syndrome and autism.  My middle, is a freaking genius.  Keeping him challenged at school is a concern for us.  He was reading at two.  He is currently reading and doing math at a 6-7th grade level- he is in the 4th grade.  No, we are not letting him skip a few grades.  Emotionally and socially, he is a 4th grader!  (Sorry, I digress.)  Our youngest has been diagnosed with ADHD.  Currently, he tops my mommy worry list.    

So, for fun... to vent.... to let out the pent up anger and frustration.... I want to issue a challenge.  I want to hear it!  Tell me what "advice" you have gotten (or people you have had to deal with as a parent) that you have gotten frustrated with.  Then, pass the post on to you parenting friends so they can vent, too!  Let it out, Moms and Dads!  We'll call it a BITE ME list and I will start.........

To the nurse who answered all of my medical questions regarding my son who was on life support at the time with the same generic answer of "it's because he has Down Syndrome." -BITE ME!  (Even children with Down Syndrome have regular health issues, Moron!)

To the wonderful people who suggest my son's ADHD would be "straightened out" with a good spanking.... BITE ME!

 Go ahead, don't be shy, add your own........... I'm sure I will be adding to the list, myself!

Chores, Money, and the Epiphany!

I’ll admit it.  Sometimes, I have really good intentions when it comes to things, but lack the follow through to implement them.  There, I said it. I’m guilty.  This is especially true when it comes to chores and allowances for my children.  I know they need chores.  They need to contribute to the family and it helps them to learn many things.  I know all this.  BUT (and moms back me up on this) I have a lot to get done in a very limited time.  Sometimes, it is easier to send them out to play and do it myself!  I have tried many systems of assigning chores and even tied in an allowance if they get them completed.  This leads to me forgetting to mark them off on their list and don’t even get me started with calculating the amount of allowance they have earned.  This never works for our family.  Then, I had an epiphany!  In June of this year, I realized…wait for it…… I am working too hard!   Not to mention the kiddos were blowing through the family budget every time the ice-cream truck came through our neighborhood.  

I think it started when we bought the pool.  The boys would beg me to get in it with them and it seemed I always had something to finish up or a chore to get done.  Enter the epiphany.  I was contemplating one night about the chore/allowance dilemma when I stumbled across a blog.  The mom used a system for chores I thought was interesting.  I don’t remember the name of the blog and I think she got the idea from watching the Duggar Family.  However, I quickly went to work and tweaked the system to fit our family.  Then, I called a family meeting.  

Every so often, our family has what we call a “Come to Jesus” meeting.  I think “Come to Jesus” is supposed to mean you come to the meeting with a loving heart and open mind ready to share a moment as a family to try and solve a dilemma.  However, with our family, they usually mean “you better get to the table and figure out what is wrong with you right now or your gonna SEE Jesus.”  

As the boys gathered around the table, I spelled out the situation for them.  We had two issues:

 

1.       1- Mommy was working too hard to clean up messes she didn’t make.  I explained I wanted to have time to play with them and have fun, but I spent the days picking up after them and cleaning.  (Sometimes, living in a house full of “men” can be messy.)

2.       2- Finances.  I, like most moms, want to give my boys everything.  I also want to teach them the importance of budgeting their own money. I explained how when mommy and daddy gets paid, we have to pay bills, tithe, put some into savings, and then decide how to spend the rest. 

Then, I implemented the Campagnone grand plan.   

Here are the details:

I purchased some white and colored index cards and plastic index card holders from the store.  Then, I went to the computer and typed up the chores needing to be done.  Since Joey cannot read yet, I put pictures beside each of the chores.  I printed them out, cut them up, and glued each of them to individual index cards. I also saved the template to make it easy to print out if a card was destroyed and needed to be replaced.  Each day, each boy will get his card holder with their daily chores in them.  Before they are allowed to go outside, turn on the TV, or play a video game, they must do their chores.  Every now and then, I slip a colored index card into the mix.  They are always excited about this because it is a bonus chore and completing it will earn them an extra .50.  They realized how quickly that could add up!

Speaking of money…………….I explained to the kiddos they would get an allowance every week.  A friend once told me she gave her children .50 X the age of the child.  I thought this was a great idea! I also told them the allowance would have nothing to do with their chores.  (Logan was especially excited about that.)  Why?  Chores should be what you do to contribute as a member of a family.  You don’t get paid for doing it.  You also don’t get a choice in whether or not you complete your chores.

That’s it.  The system was all laid out for them.  So it began……

It worked!!!  We started this in June.  Three months later, it is still working.  The children will come home from school, eat a snack, do their homework, quickly get their chore boxes and get to work.  I even overheard one say to the other one evening, “Don’t leave your toy there! I might have to clean the living room tomorrow!”  Why does this work when MANY others have failed?

·         I don’t give them the same chores every day.  It is always a surprise to see what is in their chore box.

·         Slipping a color card in their every now and then adds to the excitement.

·         Because there is no chart to put a smiley face on or earned allowance to add up at the end of the week, it is relatively simple for me. I simply pick out three of four cards to put in the holders after they go to bed. 

·         The boys have stopped asking me for money.  They have their own money and make their own decisions on what to spend it on.  For the record, I’ve noticed the boys are much more discriminating on what to buy when spending their own money! 

A few weeks ago, a neighbor got the boys off the bus for me.   When I got home, she commented on the way the kids got their chores completed quickly and without fighting.  I printed her off the template and she now uses them with her own children.  When you find something that works so well for you, you want to share it.  If you would like a copy of the template, message me and I will send it to you! If you decide to use this system, please let me know how it went in your own house.

We partied like it was 13 years after 1999!

I want to thank everyone for coming out to Tyler's 13th birthday party yesterday.  The kids....I mean, teenagers.....had a great time swimming, listening to music, and dancing!  Despite the rain at the end, the party was a success!  Thanks again!

To Tyler on his 13th Birthday…..

Dear Tyler,

You were a beautiful baby.  I mean “make all the other mommies who had babies born that day want to cry because their baby looked positively ugly next to you” beautiful! You had the most beautiful skin tone I have ever seen.  What very little hair you did have was blond and your eyes were blue-gray.  You were long and skinny.  You came earlier than I expected.  However, even though you were a preemie, you were big at 6 pounds.  

I can hardly believe the tiny baby I held in my arms became a teenager today.  I can hardly believe you are almost as tall as I am.  I can hardly believe I can fit my feet into your tennis shoes.  13.  You are thirteen years old today.  I can hardly believe I am now the mother of a teenager.  

Thirteen years ago, I became a mommy.  I practically kidnapped you from the hospital the day they allowed you to come home.  I didn’t even wait on the discharge papers.  I was so sure a nurse was going to come into my room and say there had been a mistake.  They couldn’t possibly let a new mom with no baby care experience take such a perfect baby home.  Luckily, the nurse on duty lived next door and brought the paperwork home for me.  Still, your Aunt Kristi and I must have looked funny sneaking you out!

The day you were born, I looked into your face.  I turned to your grandma and said, “Wow!  You love me this much?!”  I couldn’t believe the amount of love a mother holds in her heart for her child.  Until the moment I first held you, I had no idea.  I knew then I would lay down my own life to protect you. 
 

There is a scene in Forest Gump where Forest ask his mother what her purpose in life is.  She says her purpose was to be his mother.  That is exactly how I feel.  My purpose in life is to be your mom.  I always dreamed about what I would teach my child.  Yet, you have taught me more than I have you.  You have taught everyone patience, courage, and persistence.  You never give up once you have a goal in mind.  Most of all, you don’t listen to the doubts of others.  You never let anyone underestimate you.  I wish I had half of the determination you display!  I am so proud of the man you are becoming.  

Happy thirteenth birthday, sweetheart!  Remember to be patient with your mom.  It is very hard for me to let go and give you the space you need to try new things.  Remember, you may be a teenager now, but you will always be my baby! I love you!

     Mom

Who likes Rollercoasters?

On Sunday, Tyler will be thirteen years old....13!!!  I still cannot believe Aaron and I will have a teenager in just a few days.  I've been doing alot of reflecting over the last few days.

When I found out Tyler would be born with Down Syndrome, shocked does not even begin to describe the emotional roller coaster that followed.  While the coaster has gotten a little tamer, I don't feel like I have ever gotten off of it.  Only those parents who have dealt with having a special needs child can fully understand.  The ride has leveled out.  There are more fun sections, more exciting twist and turns.  However, every now and then, you are taken to the very top of the highest hill and plunged into a scary free fall taking your breath away and leaving you terrified.  When Tyler was three, he was on life support when his airway suddenly collapsed.  At one point, the doctors came in to talk to me about making decisions no parent should ever be faced with.  There were times I wondered if Tyler would ever make it to thirteen.

Yet, here we are!  I am currently working on Tyler's birthday letter.  I took a moment tonight to look at some of the letters I wrote to Tyler when he was smaller.  I spent some time in tears.  Happy tears for how far he has come.  Bittersweet tears because the time has flown by too fast. 


 

Joey goes to Kindergarten!

“I will not cry.  I am not going to get overly emotional.  I have three kids, for crying out loud!  I have already been through this with the other two.  This is just another day of school.  I WILL NOT CRY!”

This has been my mantra for the last few weeks.  I have said it to myself, my husband, and other people.  I have said it strong and proudly.  Yesterday, it hit me full in the face.  I walked around bursting into tears over small things.  What am I talking about?  SCHOOL.

This year is a monumental year in the Campagnone household.  My oldest is starting middle school and my baby is starting Kindergarten.  Today was their first day.  

 It did not help Joey absolutely insisted on riding the bus!  I spent most of yesterday trying to convince him to let us take him.  He would have none of that. 

 Finally, he squared his shoulders and very firmly said, “  MO-OM, I am not a baby.  I am a big boy.  I have been waiting to ride the school bus for years!!!” 

My husband looked at me and said, “Let him ride the bus.  He’ll be fine.”  

Then, Logan chipped in, “I’ll show him where his class is!  Trust us, he’ll be fine!”

I relented since I was so outnumbered!  

This morning, I tried once more to persuade Joey to let me drive him the first day.  Again, no luck.  So I took him to the bus stop.    He squealed with delight when he saw the big, yellow bus come over the hill and proudly hopped on board.  

What a big boy!

A Chicken Kind of Day!

Whenever I need a laugh, I am drawn to a blog my BFF steered me towards years ago.  I love it and it makes me laugh every time I read it.  I think I laugh because I can sooooo see Steph and I having the “chicken conversation”  or doing something like this.  I apologize for some of the language in the blog.  I am going to copy and paste it here but I also want to give the link to the blog.  It is http://thebloggess.com/2011/06/and-thats-why-you-should-learn-to-pick-your-battles/.

So for your amusement, here it is:

And that’s why you should learn to pick your battles.

June 21, 2011

in Random crap

This morning I had a fight with Victor about towels. I can’t tell you the details because it wasn’t interesting enough to document at the time, but it was basically me telling Victor I needed to buy new bath towels, and Victor insisting that I NOT buy towels because I “just bought new towels“. Then I pointed out that the last towels I’d bought were hot pink beach towels, and he was all “EXACTLY” and then I hit my head against the wall for an hour.

Then Laura came to pick me up so we could go to the discount outlet together, and as Victor gave me a kiss goodbye he lovingly whispered, “You are not allowed to bring any more towels in this house or I will strangle you“.   And that was exactly what I was still echoing through my head an hour later, when Laura and I stopped our shopping carts and stared up in confused, silent awe at a display of enormous metal chickens, made from rusted oil drums.

Laura:  I think you need one of those.

me:  You’re joking, but they’re kind of horrifically awesome.

Laura: I’m not joking. We need to buy you one.

me:  The 5-foot tall one was $300, marked down to $100.  That’s like, $200 worth of chicken for free.

Laura:  You’d be crazy not to buy that.  I mean, look at it. IT’S FULL OF WHIMSY.

me:  Victor’d be pissed.

Laura:  Yup.

me:  But on the plus side?  It’s not towels.

Laura:  Yup.

me:  We will name him Henry.  Or Charlie.  Or O’Shannesy.

Laura:  Or Beyoncé.

me:  Or Beyoncé. Yes.  And when our friends are sad we can leave him at their front door to cheer them up.
Laura:  Exactly. It’ll be like, “You thought *yesterday* was bad?  Well, now you have a enormous metal chicken to deal with.  Perspective.  Now you have it.”

Then we flagged down a salesman, and we were all “What can you tell us about these chickens?”, as if we were in an art gallery, and not in a store that specializes in last years’ bathmats.  He didn’t know anything about them, but he said that they’d only only sold one and it was to a really drunk lady, and then Laura and I were all “SOLD.  All this chicken belongs to us now.”

Insert-inappropriate-cock-joke-here.

So he loaded it onto a trolley, but Beyoncé was surprisingly unstable, and the giant 5 foot metal chicken crashed over onto the floor.  And Laura and I were all “CHICKEN DOWN!  CLEAN-UP IN AISLE 3″ but he didn’t laugh.  Then the manager came to see what was causing all the commotion, and that’s when he found the very-conservative salesman unhappily struggling to right an enthusiastically pointy chicken which was almost as tall as he was.  The salesman was having a hard time, and he told everyone to stand back “because this chicken will cut you“, and at first I thought he meant it as a threat, like “That chicken has a shiv”, but turns out he just meant that all the chickens’ ends were sharp and rusty.  It was awesome, and Laura and I agreed that even if we got tetanus, this chicken had already paid for himself even before we got it in her truck.
Then we got to my house and quietly snuck the chicken up to my front door, rang the doorbell, and hid around the corner.

Knock-knock, motherfucker.

Victor opened the door and looked at the chicken in stunned silence for about 3 seconds.  Then he sighed, closed the door and walked away.

Laura:  What the fuck?  That’s it?  That’s the only reaction we get?

me:  That’s it. He’s a hard man to rattle.

Victor was surprisingly pissed that I’d “wasted money” on an enormous chicken, because apparently he couldn’t appreciate the hysterical value of a 5 foot chicken ringing the doorbell.  Then I said, “Well, at least it’s not towels” and apparently that was the wrong thing to say because that’s when Victor screamed and stormed off, but I knew he was locked in his office because I could hear him punching things in there.  Then I yelled through his door, “It’s an anniversary gift for you, asshole.  Two whole weeks early.  15 YEARS IS BIG METAL CHICKENS.”

Then he yelled that he wanted it gone, but I couldn’t move it myself, so instead I said okay and went to watch tv.  Then, when the UPS guy came I hid, but he was all “Dude.  Nice chicken” and Victor yelled, “IT IS NOT A NICE CHICKEN”.  Which was probably very confusing to the UPS guy, who was just trying to be polite, Victor. Victor seemed more disgruntled than usual, so I finally dragged the chicken into the backyard and wedged it into a clump of trees so that it could scare the snakes away.  Then I came in and Victor angrily pulled me into his office so that I could see that I’d stationed Beyoncé directly in front of his only window.  And I was all “Exactly. YOU’RE WELCOME.”  I told him that he could move Beyoncé if he wanted to, but he totally hasn’t.  Probably because of all of the giant rocks I piled on Beyonce’s feet to dissuade burglars.  Or possibly because Beyoncé is growing on him.  Still, I can’t help but think that we wouldn’t even be having this argument if Beyoncé was towels.  Honestly, this whole chicken is really a lesson in picking your battles more carefully.  Plus, he’s awesome and I can’t stop giggling every time I look at him.  Beyoncé, that is.

Best. 15th anniversary. ever.

UPDATED 2012: It’s been half a year and people still continue to laugh, scream indignantly and to ask questions, so here are a few follow-ups.  Victor and I are still (of course) happily married and after a few weeks he got over his giant rooster aversion.  Beyonce stares at him from outside his office window.  I eventually got new towels.  ”Knock-knock, motherfucker” is embroidered on all of them.  Victor was not impressed.  Beyonce-the-giant-metal-chicken now has her own Facebook page with over 30,000 highly imaginative fans, and you can buy your own travel-sized Beyonce right here for under $20.  You’re welcome world.  Now please stop yelling at me.