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    theresa


    Theresa Lode or, simply “T”, had her world turned upside down and inside out when her son was diagnosed with ADHD and a few other goodies. Her choice- follow the doctor's orders....or trust her heart and delve into the world of Free Range Education. She chose the latter...

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The Mother Lode encourages young mothers

Another helpful installment in my series, “Ask The Mother Lode”

Now that I’ve been past the diaper/toddler stage in my parenting journey for many years, I’ll sometimes have younger moms ask me questions on this delightful stage of child development. Let’s look at a few of their inquiries shall we?

Hettie Underwood of LaVergne, TN asks:

Why is it that whenever my child has “poopy” accidents it’s diarrhea?

Boy, I gotta kick this off with such a toughie.   This one stumps even The Mother Lode.  It’s one of those inexplicable laws of nature.  (The other of which is that it’s only when mom has a fresh shirt on will baby barf on you.  If this is a frequent occurrence like it was for me, I recommend overhauling your wardrobe with clothes fashioned from shower curtains.  Granted, you don’t feel as “nice” but clean up’s a snap.)

And another, from a woman we’ll simply call “Emma” given the intimate nature of her question-

Why is that, on the day I’m most exhausted  is the day that my hubby will step into our bedroom and ask….”Should I lock the door honey?”

You could recommend your hubby get a concubine (it IS in the Bible) but I’m not so sure this is a good idea.  (Think of Sarah.)  But I *think* the real problem here is the fact that mom is exhausted MOST days.  I could never figure out how to mitigate the exhaustion so I’m afraid you’re on your own here.

Melissa Schnazleworth of CT asks:

If evolution is true, shouldn’t young moms have 6 arms and 3 sets of eyes?

Yes.  That was easy.  Next question?

Amy Butzlauff of Bad Axe, MI asks two questions-

Will allowing my child to watch 4 hours of PBS kids rot their brains out?

No.  I speak from experience and to this date their brains are still intact.  I think.

And speaking of PBS- Is Barney of the Devil?

Does Barney allow mom to get a little peace and quiet?  I rest my case.

And from across the pond, Sara from South End on the Sea, England

My baby’s binky/paci/soother dropped on the floor…should I sterilize it?

This depends on how many children you have.  If it’s your first child, of course you should sterilize it.  Number two child?  Check for any lint and pick it off….number three….pop it in your own mouth to clean it off….four….well, I’m not even going there.  I’ve heard things…..

Sally from Butte, MT (That’s NOT pronounce, “Butt” people!)

I swore I’d never use a dishrag  to wipe off my child’s face but I’ve compromised.  Will my child get a strange infection on their face from kitchen bacteria?

I don’t think so.

Shannon Starlight (C’mon is that your REAL name?), CA (Ah! That explains it.)

A lot of people, strangers even, will often tell me to Enjoy them while they’re little. This is usually spoken to me as I’m leaving Wal Mart with a car seat in one hand, groceries in the other, my toddler hanging on to my jeans and my newborn hanging off my chest.  How should I respond?

In cases like this….you have my blessings to give ‘em a haymaker.  That is, if you can find a free limb. If not,  you have my permission to ask if they’d like to share your joy and help you out to your flippin’ mini van.  (There’s a reason Honda calls their mini-van an Odyssey.)

I do hope you’ve found this little Q & A chat.  Keep those questions coming!

The truth is that having toddlers is hard, hard work.  And I believe that there is a sort of amnesia that we parents experience which is why we continue to have the little darlings.

Keep the coffee brewing and a sense of humor handy and trust me….one day you’ll actually have time to yourself once again. It’s a fuzzy memory, I know.  You may even be able to sit at your computer and compose rambling blog entries….

theresa_sig

Hello adolescence, goodbye brain cells

Yesterday I’m on the phone with Molly’s school.  And like usual, I have to scurry back to my room to try to find a quiet place so I don’t sound like a babbling idiot, which I am these last few weeks, but I digress.

The counselor, a very helpful woman, is working on Molly’s schedule.  No, I don’t think the advance math class would be a good idea, I say.  She IS a very bright girl however….

Molly appears in the room.  Her arms are hanging limply by her side, flat affect on her face.  She mutters something.

I twist up my face and wave my hand pointing to the phone and then swinging it toward the door.  Does that need any interpretation?

I tell the counselor Molly is a very motivated young lady and will….

Molly mutters again…arms still hanging limply by her side.  I hear something about “a dang quesadilla” (pronounced “que-sa-dill-a”).  EGADS!  Is that drool on her chin?  Her head continues to just hang there like a ripe fruit just before it falls from the tree.

WHO is this child and where’d they take the one I was just describing?

“Thank you so very much for your help,” I purr.  It’s hard to purr when you’re snapping your fingers and swinging your arm but I think I pulled it off.

The phone call ends.

“WHAT was so blasted important?” I roared.  Uh-oh.  My evil twin was taking over.

Molly’s affect remains the same.  “The dang que-sa-dill-a is burning.”  Oh no.  NOW I get it.  This was her Napolean Dynamite imitation.

I run down into the kitchen.  Molly follows behind me.  Daniel and Caleb are both sitting up at the counter on stools informing me in unison that the “dang que-sa-dill-a” is burning.  BILLOWS of smoke are pouring out of the frying pan.

Molly mutters something , “I told you…” but I snap at her to be quiet.

I grab the pan and rush out to the deck.  Oh good grief.  I hope this doesn’t attract the fire department.  And lemme tell you, the pan wasn’t the only thing smoking.

“WHAT”S THE MATTER WITH YOU KIDS?!”

Molly continues in her Napolean imitation, “I moved it off the burner.”

“OKAY!  No more Napolean Dynamite in this home!  And it’s que-sa-dee-ah from now on,” I snap.

Uh-oh.  Who’s looking stupid now?

And the worse part….I think I initiated this nonsense by asking the kids if they wanted a “dang …” oh, you know, for lunch.  And then that call interrupted it.  I do not handle interruptions as well as I used to.

The smoke from the pan…and my ears…dissipated.

They lost their brain….I lost my temper.  I think the score was about even.

Calm now I asked, “Why didn’t you get it out of the pan?”

They all shrugged, blank looks in their eyes.  Oh, heaven help me.  My mind flashed back to working with middle schoolers.  One minute they’re normal human beings….the next….

I couldn’t help but laugh.  And then they laughed.

And then we had some (unburned) que-sa-dill-ahs.

Off for a few days

We’re kicking spring off with gusto this year with the arrival of one of my beloved sisters and her hubby!  It promises to be a fun week.

And then a few weeks later, after tax season, it’s off  Ohio and then Michigan to reconnect with family and some special friends. The beginning of May brings in one of our best friends from Montana.  This will be extra special as she’s bringing her son, Caleb’s partner in crime and best friend.

Just the thought of seeing the smiling faces of loved ones brings a smile to my face.  (And I’m not even finished with my first cup of coffee yet!)

So all that to say…I’ll likely be a bit quiet from here for a few days while I’m enjoying my company.

One of the things we wanted to do this year was reconnect with family that we haven’t seen in several years and this is a wonderful way to kick it off.

See you in a few days!

theresa_sig

Don’t count your eggs until your hens are bought

It’s tough having a budding entrepreneur sometimes.  Case in point.  I’m driving into town with Molly and Caleb and the conversation goes something like this:

Molly:  You know, on my next birthday I’m going to be a teenager.  I’m going to start listening to an iPod and ignoring you.

Mom: That’s nice honey.

Caleb: (who is looking pensively out the window,) opines: It’s very disturbing to think I was inside you once.

Mom: Uh, yeah.  Never thought about it quite that way.

The phone rings.  It’s Daniel.   He is hyperventilating.

“Honey, are you okay?  Do I need to call 9-1-1?”

“I SOLD A DOZEN EGGS!!!!!!”

I pulled the phone away from my ear.

“MRS. ISAACS SAID SHE BUY A DOZEN FOR TWO DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS.”

Caleb has turned back to staring out the window.  He looks pretty calm for reflecting on such disturbing thoughts.

“Daniel, need I point out you have two hens.  Both of them don’t lay every day. It will take over a week to fulfill your order.”

“YEAH BUT I’M GOING TO MAKE TWO DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS!!!!”

Somewhere in the background I thought I heard Molly talking about who she was going to invite to her birthday…over three months away.

“Daniel, I need to you take a deep breath…”  I was mentally adding the costs we’ve incurred in order to make $2.50.  Let’s see….there’s the fuel back and forth to the Mexicano flea market, the hen WE paid for after the dog got the other one….the laying mash….the hay….the….

“MRS. ISAACS IS REALLY LOOKING FORWARD……”

“Daniel.  Daniel?  DANIEL?!”

“Uh- oh yeah, Mom?”

“Where are these eggs coming from?”

“Dad said we’re going to buy more hens tomorrow!”

I thought I heard a KA-CHING go off in my head but it could have been my phone chirping.

Which brings me to today.  Daniel and Jay are off to the flea market once again.

Lord, I pray they don’t see any heifers on the way.  This money making could put us in the poor house.

Only a Dad- Happy Anniversary Jay!

20 years ago on a crisp Montana morning, Jay and I got married.  It was such a wonderful day and I remember clinging to every second of the day knowing how quickly it would fly by.  (I also remember considering myself an “older” bride at 24.  Ha.)

Little did I know that those feelings of time flying by was just a precursor to 20 years disappearing in a wink.   It’s also amazing to look back at how our love and relationship have changed and grown.  Those first giddy feelings of love  pale in light of the love we enjoy to day.  It’s the tough love that’s been forged by years of leanness, fussy babies, vehicle breakdowns.  But also plenty of laughter and happy memories.  (Like last night when we watched a Spanish “novella” substituting  English dialog for the words.  We were all howling. You should try it sometime…just keep the remote handy.)

Another 20 years wouldn’t be enough to time to discover the treasure I see in Jay.  Or another 100 years for that matter.  He’s my calm rescuer when the “check engine” light comes on, a faithful provider and a darn good Dad too.

Which is why I thought I’d post this poem today.

Only a Dad

Edgar Guest celebrates the importance of the role of an ordinary Dad.

by Edgar Guest

Only a dad with a tired face,
Coming home from the daily race,
Bringing little of gold or fame
To show how well he has played the game;
But glad in his heart that his own rejoice
To see him come and to hear his voice.

Only a dad with a brood of four,
One of ten million men or more
Plodding along in the daily strife,
Bearing the whips and the scorns of life,
With never a whimper of pain or hate,
For the sake of those who at home await.

Only a dad, neither rich nor proud,
Merely one of the surging crowd,
Toiling, striving from day to day,
Facing whatever may come his way,
Silent whenever the harsh condemn,
And bearing it all for the love of them.

Only a dad but he gives his all,
To smooth the way for his children small,
Doing with courage stern and grim
The deeds that his father did for him.
This is the line that for him I pen:
Only a dad, but the best of men.

False memories

My son may very well end up in politics.  He’s getting the lingo down pat and could charm the coat off of an Eskimo in a snow storm

This morning he was all eager to head out the door to get some wood salvaged from an old barn.  (This child *always* has a need for more building supplies.)

But I stopped him as he was ready to sashay out the door.  “Did you brush your teeth?”

He smiled a dingy smile and said, “yes.”

I have him my squinty-eyed-mama-knows-all look and said, “Lemme see ‘em!”

He grinned more broadly and slapped himself up the head, “Oh! I think I was having a false memory!”  He spun around and bee-lined into the bathroom.

After brushing his teeth, he appeared back in the kitchen…following me around, I might add….with the BANJO.

“Listen Mom! I got the theme song to ‘Sponge Bob’ figured out!” He began plucking it out, competing with the classical sounds from NPR creating what surely could be background music for a psycho movie.  (The part where the axe murderer is ready to slash his way through the shower curtain to the unsuspecting woman.)

And as I sit here and recall my crazy morning so far I can’t help but wonder if one day I will go psycho.  But then again, maybe this is all a false memory.

Where there’s smoke….

…there’s Daniel.  Well, it’s not exactly smoke, it’s fog.   From his fog machine.

I opened his bedroom door yesterday and couldn’t see a thing.  Billows of fog were rolling out the door.  I heard Daniel’s voice from somewhere on the floor.  “Son?” I asked.

“Yeah mom,” he replied.  I startled a bit. I’m still not used to his deepening voice.

I peered through the fog and he was sitting on the floor rigging up another invention with his Lego Mind Storm.  The glow from the LED’s on his numerous electronic devices gave the room an ethereal feel.

I started to ask him WHAT he was doing but decided against it.  Like the mysteries of UFO’s and Easter Island, there are just some things I’ll never understand.

So I just said, “I love you honey”.  And then I shut the door.

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