Just when parenting deja vu starts to settle in, your toddler prances into the kitchen five minutes before dinner, announces that she's poopied and then hands over the end product, which she was considerate enough to scoop up (bare handed, natch) after initially depositing it onto the living room floor.
In six and a half years and three kids, I can honestly say that was a new one on us. Who says life with kids is boring?
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Friday, March 29, 2013
Minivanity Mom: March Madness Edition
In honor of our hometown team's appearance in the Sweet 16 tonight, I'd like
to share a few hastily composed thoughts on the parallels between parenting and
coaching. How would you expand the list?
Offense Sells the Tickets, Defense Wins the Game
Whether you're trapping (for those of you married parents with one child), playing man-to-man or in a zone like my husband and I, the same basic defensive principles apply. Stay down in your stance and communicate.
Exhibit A: After a recent Friday of shuttling people to school, the doctor's office (our 12th visit of 2013), the Walgreen's drive-through and our accountant's house to pick up our tax return, my nerves were shot. So when my eldest commenced with aggravating her brother to the point of inducing ear-piercing shrieks, I gave them fair warning to stop. And when they didn't, I lost it. 24 seconds after my husband got home, I was out the door, but before the lock clicked I made sure to verbal the punishment I had handed down before his arrival: no television for the guilty parties for the rest of the day. Punishment for my husband, too, but that's called taking one for the team.
Clock Management
This is always important but rises to the level of critical late in a close game. Quick shots and ill-advised threes are not what most coaches look for when time is running out and you're up a bucket or two. I learned last week that most coaches even designate an assistant to do nothing but watch the clock late in the game to ensure they don't lose even a tenth of a second after a made shot or turnover. I need one of those on school mornings.
My teacher husband is usually long gone before our kids wake up, which means I have the pleasure of cattle prodding our daughter to eat breakfast, brush her teeth and hair and get dressed while I scramble to pack lunches, snacks and the permission slip-Malaria kit donation-library books-baggie of Box Tops-signed progress report o' the day. Inevitably, this process goes down to the wire. The kicker is I'm usually awake by 5:30 a.m., but nine mornings out of 10 I use that time to a) hear myself think and b) fold laundry, prep dinner for that evening, check e-mail, stuff outgrown/outdated clothing in a back for the Vietnam Veterans donation truck that makes a monthly stop at our house, and so on. Have I considered doing those things before going to bed at night? Yes, but if I don't fall asleep with my 5- and 6-year olds, then I'm more interested in eating ice cream and watching the tournament games than in washing the dinner dishes.
Game Changers
A stand-out player, a pivotal foul call, a hustle play: all game changers, people or points in time that swing the momentum or, uh, change the course of the game. In our house, this is my 6-year old. Between the hours of 8:00 a.m. and 3:15 p.m., Monday through Friday, peace reigns at our house. My son and younger daughter co-exist happily (mostly because my son is a peace maker who is supremely tolerant of his little sister), and I, meanwhile, don't feel like I'm enduring a four-hour cross-examination by Jack McCoy.
All that changes the moment our neighbor's red van rolls in the driveway.
From the moment she breezes through the door, Tinkerbelle backpack dangling from her hand, navy knee socks shoved down around her ankles, she is intent on wreaking havoc. Well, maybe that's not actually her intent, but it's usually the outcome. If her brother has received anything - a birthday party invitation from a classmate, a Dum Dum from the bank, anything - and she has not been equally compensated, she proclaims injustice and punctuates her proclamation with foot stomps and scowls. (Side note: She sees no problem when the tables are turned, however, as it's "different" when she's the only one of her siblings invited to a paint-your-own pottery party.)
Before she even changes out of her plaid uniform skort, she's pushing buttons, mine included. She is what you would call an agitator, a pot stirrer, relentless and seemingly tireless in her campaign. My prayer is that she will someday constructively channel this tenacity in support of a good cause. Maybe equal pay for women since she's so intent on ensuring there is absolute equality (so long as it favors her) in our home.
Go team!
Offense Sells the Tickets, Defense Wins the Game
Whether you're trapping (for those of you married parents with one child), playing man-to-man or in a zone like my husband and I, the same basic defensive principles apply. Stay down in your stance and communicate.
Exhibit A: After a recent Friday of shuttling people to school, the doctor's office (our 12th visit of 2013), the Walgreen's drive-through and our accountant's house to pick up our tax return, my nerves were shot. So when my eldest commenced with aggravating her brother to the point of inducing ear-piercing shrieks, I gave them fair warning to stop. And when they didn't, I lost it. 24 seconds after my husband got home, I was out the door, but before the lock clicked I made sure to verbal the punishment I had handed down before his arrival: no television for the guilty parties for the rest of the day. Punishment for my husband, too, but that's called taking one for the team.
Clock Management
This is always important but rises to the level of critical late in a close game. Quick shots and ill-advised threes are not what most coaches look for when time is running out and you're up a bucket or two. I learned last week that most coaches even designate an assistant to do nothing but watch the clock late in the game to ensure they don't lose even a tenth of a second after a made shot or turnover. I need one of those on school mornings.
My teacher husband is usually long gone before our kids wake up, which means I have the pleasure of cattle prodding our daughter to eat breakfast, brush her teeth and hair and get dressed while I scramble to pack lunches, snacks and the permission slip-Malaria kit donation-library books-baggie of Box Tops-signed progress report o' the day. Inevitably, this process goes down to the wire. The kicker is I'm usually awake by 5:30 a.m., but nine mornings out of 10 I use that time to a) hear myself think and b) fold laundry, prep dinner for that evening, check e-mail, stuff outgrown/outdated clothing in a back for the Vietnam Veterans donation truck that makes a monthly stop at our house, and so on. Have I considered doing those things before going to bed at night? Yes, but if I don't fall asleep with my 5- and 6-year olds, then I'm more interested in eating ice cream and watching the tournament games than in washing the dinner dishes.
Game Changers
A stand-out player, a pivotal foul call, a hustle play: all game changers, people or points in time that swing the momentum or, uh, change the course of the game. In our house, this is my 6-year old. Between the hours of 8:00 a.m. and 3:15 p.m., Monday through Friday, peace reigns at our house. My son and younger daughter co-exist happily (mostly because my son is a peace maker who is supremely tolerant of his little sister), and I, meanwhile, don't feel like I'm enduring a four-hour cross-examination by Jack McCoy.
All that changes the moment our neighbor's red van rolls in the driveway.
From the moment she breezes through the door, Tinkerbelle backpack dangling from her hand, navy knee socks shoved down around her ankles, she is intent on wreaking havoc. Well, maybe that's not actually her intent, but it's usually the outcome. If her brother has received anything - a birthday party invitation from a classmate, a Dum Dum from the bank, anything - and she has not been equally compensated, she proclaims injustice and punctuates her proclamation with foot stomps and scowls. (Side note: She sees no problem when the tables are turned, however, as it's "different" when she's the only one of her siblings invited to a paint-your-own pottery party.)
Before she even changes out of her plaid uniform skort, she's pushing buttons, mine included. She is what you would call an agitator, a pot stirrer, relentless and seemingly tireless in her campaign. My prayer is that she will someday constructively channel this tenacity in support of a good cause. Maybe equal pay for women since she's so intent on ensuring there is absolute equality (so long as it favors her) in our home.
Go team!
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