Mom Panic!

It is Saturday.  We made it.  And nobody died.  Or spent time in an asylum. 

I'm surprising myself by even thinking this, but I'm not sure it was worth it.  It turns out that kids complain a little when moms ask them to do anything, not just turn off games.  It turns out that siblings will always fight a little, not just over controllers.  It turns out that moms will always stress out and convince themselves they're doing something wrong, not just over allowing too much screen time.  Moms will worry themselves over not hosting the proper number of play-dates, making sure their kids are eating vegetables, or whether their child is wearing clean socks.  Moms drive themselves crazy over everything.  Games were just my thing last week.  I'm sure I'll have moved on to some new insecurity by tomorrow.

As I'm writing this, I'm holed up in my office appreciating my coffee and the quiet that the morning provides, and contemplating all my crazy kid-induced anxieties.  It's a rabbit hole I really shouldn't have gone down.  Do I yell too much?  Do I hug enough?  When my kids are grown will they remember all the fun birthday parties, family nights and vacations, or will they only remember the time I summarily banished their video games?  Mom panic.

I know that I am not the only parent who has these thoughts.  My own mother has confessed to me at times that she still has regrets and worries that she did things wrong (For the record, she did everything right.  My mom is a parenting ninja bad-ass.  Just look at how well I turned out.  My sisters too.  We are walking, talking evidence of her mothering superiority.)  My beloved Gran once told me the same types of things.  She said she knew she made mistakes, but everyone does.  The trick is to let yourself off the hook for them.  She told me that I'll make my own mistakes too, because no matter what we do or how hard we try to be perfect we all mess up our kids our own way.  I think of that conversation almost daily.

The more I think about it, the more it amazes me that mothers have this innate ability to worry themselves over the littlest details of everyone's lives, while simultaneously forgetting to feed themselves, or shower.  Moms are funny creatures like that.  I find myself freaking out about my daughter brushing her hair, while I'm flipping my head over and tying mine in a knot.  A hairbrush hasn't touched my head since...well...I don't really remember when.  I worry about my son getting enough protein (he's my growing boy after all) so I'll make him a big breakfast before school.  My breakfast usually consists of a coffee poured hastily in a travel mug.  I even worry about my husband this way, and he is a grown, capable adult.  I worry a lot. 

My point is that maybe instead of worrying about everything and everyone else all the time, I should try teaching by example.  Maybe my daughter would learn to keep her hair neat if I kept my hair neat (lofty goal.)  Maybe the kids would learn that a nutritious breakfast is important if I could manage to eat something before 11am.  Maybe they would learn to keep their rooms tidy if I stopped doing everything for them (I'm very skeptical on this point).

My anti-tech experiment has taught me much more about myself than about the way my kids cope without games.  I didn't expect that.  It's made me all introspective and junk.  Perhaps my next experiment should be an internal one where I just calm the eff down for a week or two.  I'm not sure I can do it without the aid of pharmaceuticals, but it's worth a shot.  I'll let the kids be kids, and maybe I'll actually get a good night's sleep. 

Day 2 and Crappy YouTube Parents

The second day of our tech free week was surprising.  For a couple of reasons.  For one, the boy child offered to add more days without games, just to prove he could.  After the initial morning asks, neither child mentioned games, TV or Minecraft all day.  It was parallel universe weird, and I loved it.  For another, I realized I was right.  The kids really didn't understand why this horrible thing was happening to them.  They thought they were in trouble.  Dummies.  We talked it through, and they understand now that they aren't in trouble.  That I just want a week of peace, and I want to see their faces without the obstruction of the iPad in front of them. Things are good.

I will note that a life with limited technology is freaking exhausting.  Two otherwise self-sufficient tiny people now need my input on everything.  I am required to entertain them in ways I've never needed to before.  So far, the ends are worth the means. 

Since I began this mini boycott, I've received emails, tweets and Facebook posts from people.  Some showing support, some telling me that I am a monster and taking games away is akin to cruel and unusual punishment, some with funny videos and articles attached.  My favorite was this YouTube clip from my brother-in-law.  It feels good to know that whatever my struggles, I am not these parents.  And I don't have this child.

Watching that clip made me think about things.  The way I parent.  The way I talk to my children.  The way I allow my children talk to me.  It also made me think that these parents have lost all control.  I really do try not to judge other people's parenting style.  Except for when they suck at parenting.  And in my ever so humble opinion (which is never actually humble), these people suck at parenting. 

I'm not saying you beat your child with a stick when they act like this.  I'm not even saying you need to raise your voice.  You just calmly walk over to the computer, pull the plug, pick it up, and walk out of the room.  Whether or not you throw the thing out of your car window while doing 90 on the freeway is up to you and your local littering laws.  But, you most definitely do not stand there like an idiot, and have a prolonged argument about when or if your child turns off a game.  You really don't call in your spouse for back up.  Both of you don't need to say "Turn it off."  One parent is enough. 

I know your kid will scream like a banshee.  I know that it will be hard to see your sweet angel so upset.  I know these things.  I just don't care.  Parents and children are not equals.  'Family' is not synonymous with 'debate club'.  I've worked with kids for as long as I can remember.  Long enough to know they have the attention span of a house fly on meth.  They will get over it.  They won't hate you forever.  Maybe a day or two at most.

Tech Blackout: Day 1

I am not having fun.  In fact, I think I have made a terrible mistake.  I know I need to stay strong, and that the first day or 2 will be the hardest.  But honestly, the withdrawal is worse than I thought it would be.  The kids are ANGRY.  And, they really don't understand why this horrible thing is happening to them. 

I tried to distract them yesterday.  I took my daughter and our neighbor girls out for makeovers at the local beauty school while my son went ice skating with friends.  That killed about 3 or 4 hours.  Only leaving 12 waking hours for them to complain and act crazy.

It was a very long day.  A long day that ended in a battle, because even though it was nighttime, I still wouldn't let them play their games.  "Mom!  It's night!  What else are we supposed to do?!?"  Sleep.  Stare at a wall.  I don't care, but you're not playing Minecraft.

Today we have another friend over.  I'm taking them to lunch and a movie.  Again, about 3 or 4 hours occupied.  I think I'll have them wash my car afterward to kill more time.  (Actually my car badly needs washed.  I just don't feel like doing it myself.) 

I am hopeful that today is the day they'll forget about games.  I am hopeful, but doubtful as I've already been asked for Minecraft about 9283759486543 times.  In truth, I think today will be a carbon copy of yesterday.  More "I'm bored."  More "Please!  Just for a minute?"  More me with a headache.  This week will be very profitable for the makers of Advil.

I really do have good motives for this experiment.  I am hoping to teach the kids that they can have fun in real life.  That they don't need to be constantly "connected" to be connected.  My intentions are pure.  It's unfortunate that I can't seem to communicate them to my kids.  Maybe if I sent them in a text...

Kids+Technology=Jerks

Since the dawn of (modern) time, parents have pondered the question: How much technology is too much for our children? Do we allow them to have access to everything and trust them to police themselves?  Do we use video game, movie and app ratings, and parent restrictions to limit access?  Do we give them 30 minutes of screen time to reward them for taking out the trash and doing the other chores we don't feel like doing?  There are myriad paths parents can choose to take.  I'm not sure which is the correct one, but I know the path that I've been on isn't working for me.  And, here's why:  Technology turns my kids into jerks.

Some parents I know have adopted a 'just say no' philosophy.  No television, no computer, definitely no phones, video games or ipods.  I used to think those people were a little extreme (crazy). Unrealistic even. But I have to admit, the older my kids get, the more I think they might be on to something.

My kids watch tv, because I watch tv. They play video games, because their father plays video games. They have phones, because everyone has a phone.  (And, because I think think it's a safety issue.  I am an overprotective control freak, and putting iPhones in my kids' hands is as close as I can legally come to implanting them with GPS tracking devices.)  I think we do a fairly good job monitoring their use and access to that technology though.  No social media.  We read all their texts.  We keep the passwords for everything secret.  They can't even download music without our permission.  I would give us a solid B+.  (I bumped it down from an A because of those days where I just need some quiet time, so I let them play Minecraft for 2 or 3 hours straight.  It happens.  I'm not proud of it, but I'll cop to it.) I let them play games or watch the Disney Channel for a while when they wake up in the morning.  Then I kick them out of the house and make them play outside.  They read books, have play-dates and go on day trips.  It's not all screens and buttons.

But when it is, things go south in a hurry.  After an hour or so of screen time, I will give the kids a 5 minute warning.  The exchange always goes down something like this...

 "Games off in 5, monsters."

"But, Moooooooooooooooooommmmm.  Can I please just finish this?  I'm almost done.  Really.  Then I'll turn it off.  Promise."

"Ok.  Finish up, then turn it off.  I'll give you an extra couple of minutes, but I really mean it.  Game time is over."

"Alright.  I'm almost done.  Look."

"Sweetheart, I don't know what I'm looking at.  Just turn it off ok?"

"Ok."

20 minutes of reminders from me and 'almost done' from them...

"You've had extra minutes.  Time's up."

No response, which if I'm being honest, pisses me off more than anything in the world probably ever.

"TURN IT OFF RIGHT NOW!"

"Guhhh...I'm almost done. Seriously, mom!"

Then I walk over and press the power button.  Hell hath no fury like a child playing Minecraft scorned.  Voices are raised.  Feet are stomped.  Doors are slammed.  Eventually, they even turn on each other.  One blaming the other for me turning off the game.  It's ridiculous.  It's ugly.

The results are similar when I tell them we don't text while walking through the grocery store, or Disneyland, or anywhere really.  Or, when I tell them that we don't need the iPad to occupy us on 10 minute car rides.  We can actually look out the windows and speak to each other.  Weird, I know, but speaking to each other passes the time too.

While we were on vacation, my son's phone went missing.  Watching him learn to adapt to life without it over the week it was gone was amazing to me.  He read a novel in an afternoon.  He played with his sister.  He spent quality time with his dad with no distractions.  He was extra lovable.  The immediate withdrawal symptoms were trying, but once he got through it, it was all sunshine and rainbows.  Then we got his phone back in the mail...

So, in light of all the unnecessary drama brought into my life by Steve Jobs and Bill Gates, and inspired by the temporary loss of the boy's iPhone, I am declaring a tech moratorium.  For the rest of this week, my children will live like Laura Ingalls.  They will be forced to play board games, do craft projects, have fun.  They might even have to do things in real life instead of pretending to do them in an app.  I am excited to see how this little experiment will play out.  I'm feeling optimistic, and like a true woman of science, I will be documenting the results here.  So you can laugh at me.

First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage

A friend of mine got married today.  I am over the moon for her, and her husband, and their 2 beautiful boys.  I wish them nothing but the best in their lives together, and in honor of their special day I'd like to pass on some sure-fire tips for a happy marriage. 

I'd like to, but I can't.  There are no sure-fire tips for a happy marriage, because every marriage is different.  I can, however, pass on some tips that have worked for me in all my years of wedded bliss.

1.  Don't be an asshole.  Really.  It's that simple.  Take into account the fact that there are 2 people in the relationship, and they aren't both you.  Husbands have feelings and opinions too...even if they're wrong.  Listen, and don't discount him. 

2.  Dress to impress.  This one is a little 1940s-50s, I know, but I still think it's important.  I like sweat pants as much as (more than) the next girl.  But, when my husband walks in from a long day at work, I don't think he wants me to greet him in the same outfit I wear when I have the stomach flu.

3.  Try to make things easier for each other.  Pack a lunch, iron a shirt, whatever.  Doing those kinds of things doesn't show that you're inferior.  It just shows that you care. 

4.  Have your own interests.  If I had to force myself to pretend that I love video games, I would go completely freaking insane.  I am a nerd.  I like books.  My husband respects that, and I respect that he is a nerd who likes video games.  We can sit next to each other, happily ignoring one another.

5.  Do not gossip about your husband to your girlfriends.  Just don't.  Ever.  You may forgive him for whatever he's done to make you angry, but your girlfriends won't.  They're like elephants.  They'll never forget.  Write it in a diary.  Call your mom.  Get a therapist. Just do not air your dirty laundry. Once it's out there, you can't take it back. 

6.  Victoria's Secret.

7.  Laugh at/with each other.  Everything is easier to deal with when you have a sense of humor.  Housework, kids' tantrums, grocery shopping...there's humor in everything.  Find it together.

That's it.  In nearly 11 years, that's all the wisdom I've acquired.  I'm still learning a little more every day.  But, the one thing I know for sure is that marriage is not a job, though sometimes it does require hard work.  It's more like an adventure.  Enjoy every day.

Coffee Addicts Anonymous

Yesterday I celebrated Independence Day in the traditional way. I ate too much, played with sparklers, let my son light smoke bombs, watched some fireworks, and stayed up too late. It was just as the forefathers intended. And, though the hardest thing I had to drink was a water on the rocks, I am nursing a serious holiday hangover today.

I woke up this morning 2 hours later than normal. I was completely out of it. Unmotivated. I had only one thought on my mind. Coffee. 

I actually found myself worried about the number of minutes it would take my coffee maker to produce my first cup. I was almost anxious about it. Like it was an emergency. In those (approximately 3) minutes between hitting that 'brew' button and taking my first sip, I remembered an article I read in The Wall Street Journal a few weeks ago. It was all about how caffeine addiction and withdrawal are now classified as mental health disorders. 

I have liked (loved, needed) coffee my entire adult life. I have made a pot first thing every morning for years and years. During both pregnancies I (very painfully) switched to decaf, but I could never give up the feeling of that warm mug in my hand. However, I never considered my coffee addiction to be a mental disease. I think that's called 'denial'.

I love my coffee, and my coffee loves me too.

According to the American Psychiatric Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (World's most boring name. I think The Great Big Book of Crazy is a bit more of an eye-catcher, but whatever.), you have to have 5 of 12 symptoms to be considered intoxicated by caffeine. I have at least 7 most days. That's not a great number. But, my love of...or addiction to, if you must...coffee is so serious that even as I write this, I'm thinking "That means there are 5 symptoms I don't experience.  That's not bad at all!" See?? Denial is awesome.

Also according to The Great Big Book of Crazy, you have to have 3 of 5 symptoms to be diagnosed with caffeine withdrawal. When I'm not exhibiting those first 7, I'm exhibiting all 5 of these. An even worse number. And these symptoms don't mess around.  A headache so severe that it makes me consider an at home DIY lobotomy being one of them.

It's kind of funny to me that the American Psychiatric Association considers it a little bit bonkers if you use caffeine regularly or if you quit using caffeine regularly. You can't really win.

So, the question becomes which mental health disorder do I choose. Do I choose to be all bitchy and headachey, and attempt to kick the habit? Or, do I continue to wake up every morning and push the brew button, meet friends for a latte at my favorite cafe, and continue to be a (somewhat) pleasant and high functioning human? 

The choice is a fairly simple one.  For my own comfort, and for the well-being of my husband and kids, I think I'll stick with the kind of crazy that allows me my coffee each day.  

I am actively deciding to pay no attention to these latest studies and findings.  But, if the American Psychiatric Association releases the next version of it's DSM and expands it to include Amazon.com's lightning deals addiction, I'll start to take it personally. 

Writer's Block. The Silent Killer.

For a person who always has something to say, I have come down with a ridiculous case of writer's block. It sucks. I am a blank slate. No ideas. None at all. My mind is blinking a giant, neon "VACANCY" sign. 

It's making me crazy. 

I've watched the news hoping to be inspired, but that was a terrible plan. The news is stupid depressing. Commentary on the Zimmerman trial doesn't make for light reading, I will absolutely not write about celebrities and the idiotic names they give their babies, and if I write about politics I figure about 50% of my readers will hate me no matter what I say. 

I've done my usual people watching while back home in Indiana, but other than to point out that people in the Midwest seem to smile more (Let's work on that CA. It bums me out.) there's not a whole lot there. 

My children, whose exploits are typically my favorite topics, have been fairly mellow. I appreciate the peace time, don't get me wrong. It's just not that interesting to write, or read about. "Dear Internet, my kids watched TV together for 30 minutes without screaming today..."  See??

I'm at a loss. But, at the same time, every day someone asks me what I'm working on. I'm very flattered by that. I love it. I'm amazed anyone reads this at all, let alone regularly. I'm also a little embarrassed by it. Because, when they ask, all I have to say is "Um...uh...well...nothing."

But, I'm working on it.