The Key To Having Kids is Having Friends Who are AWOKS (Adults Without Kids)

I've just come back from a weekend at Hidden Valley Ski resort in Sommerset, PA. Our good friend J. found an amazing vacation rental: cathedral ceilings, gorgeous bedrooms, a well appointed kitchen, a spacious living room, and gorgeous views of snowy woods. In attendance were two married couples with no kids (J and M, and V and A), bachelor D.B., D and E with their kids, A and C, and me, Josh, Jacob and Casey. I was a little worried before the trip, because I can only imagine that if you are a person without children, and you are on vacation, that you do not want to get up at 5/6/7 AM in the morning. In fact, speaking as a person with children on most vacation days I do not enjoy getting up at 5/6/7 in the morning.

But I must praise my friends without kids for not only putting up with my kids and their terrible early rising habits, but, also, for playing board games with them, playing air hockey with them, playing "monkey in the middle" with them, tickling them, listening to them, laughing at their jokes, pushing them around the living room and pretending they were snow plows, taking pictures of them, sledding with them, and being all around awesome with them. The time you spent with my children gave me time to relax, hang out, read the newspaper, drink coffee, cook, clean, hike, admire my children from a short distance, and catch my breath.

Two days before the snow weekend my good friend Andy B. crashed at our place for two nights while he networked with his colleagues at CMU. He was a major celebrity guest for Jacob and Casey; they worked intently on a WELCOME ANDY banner, and Andy was kind enough to bring a really cool present for the kids---a set of "tell me a story" story telling cards. Andy has kids of his own, but on this trip they weren't with him. And so Andy was able to play with Jacob and Casey in such a way that they felt like the coolest kids in the world.

This weekend got me to thinking: isn't 3 to 1 a pretty good adult-to-child ratio? Shouldn't we be in these sorts of communal arrangements more often? It wasn't just that having adults without kids (AWOKs) around made my life easier (which they did) but they also helped me to see my kids a new way. I realized how much my kids JUST WANT TO PLAY, and how much it means to them to be taken seriously and listened to by adults.

During the communal weekend I also enjoyed squeezing and holding baby C-lion and Monx, and getting to support mom-of-newborn E in the way that I so wanted to be supported when I had a newborn. The weekend was over too quickly. I'm grateful to my new extended network of AWOKs, and I look forward to our next gathering!

The Farm

I was reading my favorite blog the other day and I found myself laughing so hard at what I was reading that little chunks of the carrot I was eating came flying out of my mouth. Tears started to stream out of my eyes, and I had to wipe my eyes in order to keep reading the post. The post was about a mom who was trying to take a shower, and how her frustrations with her children during the shower led her to threaten to take her youngest to "The Farm." The Farm is a work camp for naughty children, where they work all day and only get cold mush to eat. As I read Lindsay's post I regretted that I had not thought of a similar threat for my children. But Lindsay assured me that it was not too late to introduce The Farm into my parenting bag of tricks. She suggested I make a flyer about The Farm and leave it around for my seven year old, a new reader, to find.

I started to make a flyer about The Farm, but I couldn't find any clip art that showed cute children engaged in grueling, back breading labor. So I decided to introduce The Farm this morning, verbally, around the breakfast table. Here is how it went:

Me: Have you guys ever heard of The Farm?

Jacob and Casey shake their heads.

Me: The Farm is a place where kids work all the time, like washing windows and scrubbing floors.

Casey: Ooohhh, I love to clean! Can we go there?

Me. The problem is, the kids don’t get to leave the farm.

Jacob: Oh.

Casey: Are their parent’s there?

Me: No, it’s kids only.

Jacob: Who invented The Farm?

Me: I think The Farm was invented by a frustrated mom, who had naughty children.

Jacob: Oh.

Me: Also, all they have to eat is cold mush.

Jacob: After all of that work that they do? That doesn't seem fair!

Casey: I’m going to bring them some sweet yogurt, so they don’t have to taste the mush.

Jacob: Mom, please don’t ever send us to The Farm.

I think the seed has been planted. Don't you?

Happy Valentine's Day to All Our Lovey Friends and Family!

I went to write a Valentine's Day post tonight and I realized, in someways for the first time, that is was Valentine's Day that (sort of) brought me and Josh together. My friend Jennifer had given me a book for my 35th birthday on 101 Ways To Flirt, which, by the way, I found ever so slightly insulting, because if there was anything I knew how to do it was HOW TO FLIRT. Nevertheless, I read the book, and in it there was a suggestion to throw a singles only Valentine's Day party. I started planning the party in early January of 2002, and on January 18th I went to a party (also with Jennifer!) armed with a stack of party invitations.

The theme of my Valentine's Day party was "Black Friday." The date was February 15th, and my idea was a kind of "pity party" for all of us grieving, miserable singles. The invitation instructed attendees to wear all black, and I promised black food and black drinks. On one side of the invitation I had altered a bunch of Valentine's Day sweet hearts to say things like LUV SUX and GO AWAY and YOU WISH.

I met Josh at the party on January 18th, and even though we had a very cool conversation, I freaked out when Josh joked that he was "in process." I had told my therapist that very morning that I was done with guys who were, to quote myself exactly, "in process." So I got spooked, and ran away from the cool conversation. Later that night I tracked Josh down again and gave him a copy of the invitation. He seemed pleased.

A few days later I decided that in a man-poor town like Pittsburgh, Josh could easily be dating someone by Valentine's Day, and so I emailed him and asked him out for a date. He agreed, and the rest is, um history, right?

Anyway, by the time of the infamous singles only party Josh and I were pretty seriously not-single! The party had worked its magic and it hadn't even started yet!

In honor of this bizarre holiday, which I have definitely felt conflicted about over the years, I post this year's offering----cinnamon rolls made with red-dyed sugar, and shaped into hearts. I made them this morning for an impromptu brunch at Dan and Erica's house. Oh, and the secret to photographing food? Never use a flash! The secret to a happy marriage? Let your spouse sleep in if he/she must, go on lots of dates, and let your spouse watch whatever he/she wants on TV if he/she is willing to rub your back. Ha ha. Seriously, I don't have any secrets. But I think the rolls turned out pretty nicely.



Heart rolls rising....


Heart rolls baked!

Thank you Gramma and Nana!

The kids were blessed this week with wonderful Valentine's Day Packages from Nana Panush and Gramma Gregson! Here you can see Casey and Jacob dressed in their v-day pjs, and the beautiful hand made cards that Gramma sent. You can't see the candy, though, because they ate it already! Thanks to our awesome moms for their thoughtful care packages! You really help to make the holidays special!

Fear of a Teen Planet

The first time I had a newborn the world became a difficult, hostile place. My back ached, my nipples were constantly in pain from nursing, I slept in short 1-2 hour fits, interrupted by a baby's angry squall. I was constantly cleaning up poo and pee and vomit. I was like a new mom zombie---something closer to the walking dead than a human being.

Sometimes I would look to the future with anticipation. I would think, "I can't wait until my baby can walk." Or, "I can't wait until my baby can say 'Mama.'" I was careful not to say these things out loud, because more experienced parents would scold me: "Oh, these are the good years, my friend. Don't wish them away!" Or, this chestnut: "Ah, time flies, my dear! Your children grow up so fast. You'll be wishing these years back soon enough."

Later, I finally found an experienced parent who agreed with me. "The diaper years," he said, "go slowly....then everything speeds up."

The second time I had a newborn I began to experience the time warp that everyone talked about. My first born was finally out of diapers, and my newborn's diapers and nursing habits didn't seem like much of an imposition. I learned to nurse lying down, and I watched a lot of Top Chef and Project Runway. (One of my second born's first words was "remote"---or, actually "kemote"). With my second born, who I figured was probably my last, every vestige of babyhood seemed precious----something to be cherished. I nursed her longer, babied her longer, spoiled her longer.

My first born is now seven, and my second born is almost four. I feel like I have arrived at the sweet spot of parenting. They still need me---but not so much to wipe their butts. They need me for snack time, and play time, but they can dress themselves, shoe themselves, bath themselves (with some help drawing the bath, of course) and entertain themselves for much longer stretches of time. Tonight my children played together, without fighting, for twenty minutes.

But now that I am finally enjoying parenting, something new is happening: I am gripped with fear as I think about my kids becoming teenagers. I poke around on the internet and see stories about teens shaving their pubic hair, driving drunk, getting pregnant, flunking out of school, etc. I watch my favorite TV drama, Parenthood, where teens run away to live with their boyfriends, sneak out of their rooms at night, and go on long bus trips by themselves. The teenagers in real life and in fictional TV say the most hurtful, hateful things to their parents. Also, they slam the door a lot. I am afraid.

I've been thinking about starting a little time capsule full of things that remind me how much I love my kids, and how much they enjoy expressing their love for me---while they are still young enough to show it. Here's the Valentine that my first born son Jacob made for his family (me, his dad and his littler sister) for Valentines Day. I pretty much cry every time I look at it. It's the first thing I'm putting in my "I'm scared of my teenager" time capsule.

Some of Jacob's Bday Presents!

Hello?

Sledding at Frick Park

Adult's New Years

Kids' New Year

Breaking the Piñata

Making the Piñata

Growing up, my family had the most amazing way to celebrate New Year's Eve. On the day after Christmas we drove with our friends the Frosts about two hours north to the port city of Anacordes. From there we would take a 4 hour ferry to Friday Harbor, the queen city of the San Juan islands. From there we would drive to the Friday Harbor Labs and stay in these quaint, knotty-pine little cabins until January 1st or 2nd.

The four of us kids would play with our toys and eat our Christmas candy. The adults would read, relax, make meals drink wine and try to get an antenna rigged to the roof of the cabin to watch football. Usually unsuccessfully!

On New Year's Eve we would play card games (M'n'M poker), board games, etc., until midnight, at which point we would break open a piñata. As I got older I started to make the pinata myself, using paper maché and tissue paper. One year I made a piñata in the shape of our toy poodle. One year I made a dragon.

This year I decided to start passing down the New Year's Eve home made piñata tradition to Jacob and Casey. (Last year we broke open a store-bought one). We made a clock piñata using the Blizzard Maker box! I had some yellow streamers, so it sort of became a Steelers colored piñata. The kids enjoyed getting their hands dirty! And I had fun thinking about auld lang syne!