What If I'm Not the Good Things?

So most nights as I'm tucking the kids in bed and saying goodnight, I try to remember to say to them, "Be brave, be true, be bold, be kind, be you." I don't know where I heard it, but I know I didn't make it up. I heard it somewhere, but it seemed like a good mantra to imbed in their subconscious. After seeing "The Help", I decided that saying, "You is kind. You is smart. You is important", was also super good. I like the idea of focusing on attributes that have nothing to do with the way we look. I so often tell my children how pretty or handsome they are and I realize I'm feeding into them thinking about the way they look as being super important. So, anyway, sometimes, in the morning, we say, "you are smart, you are kind, you are important." I can't think of anything wrong with it.

Ok, so back to my original train of thought. One night last week, kneeling on the floor next to my daughter's bed, having just turned off the light and being surrounded by nothing but the glow of her fish tank (really it's a snail tank because we can't keep the guppies alive), I say, "Be brave, be true, be bold, be kind, be you." And she says, "But mama, what if I"m not kind? What if I'm not the good things?" Hmm. Touche. Now what? I do the best I can and tell her that she has so many strengths and that she can always keep working on whatever she thinks she's not good at. And, really, it was a pathetic reply from me. I was surprised and didn't know what to say. Think about it, we're not all kind, we're not all bold, we're not all brave or true for that matter. Being "you" might not be that great. What do we do then? I'm still thinking about it. My favorite response to this situation came from my good friend. She said, "then Be Sorry!"

Easter Bunny Sleepover

So we went away for a spontaneous weekend vacation to the mountains. We got a killer deal on a super nice hotel room with two bedrooms, full kitchen and living room (with a fireplace) and huge deck with lovely snowy mountain views. To limit spending, I shopped at Costco on Thursday and got food for the weekend so we wouldn't spend extra eating out.

Turned out to be perfect. We took the kids out of school Friday and headed to the mountains. We spent 3 hours at a super fun sledding hill for only $18 with 14 open runs! Sunny weather, not a cloud in the sky. Unfortunately, my daughter took two hard rolls and then wanted to leave and said that was the last time she would sled EVER! We let her relax and eventually she got back up and headed to some easy hills and ended on a high note. On a side, today is Monday and I'm just seeing the light bruising on her forehead and the scabbing raspberry on her cheek. She really did fall hard.

Anyway, we hung out at the resort Friday and Saturday enjoying tennis, pools, games, hot tubs, tv's and movies, game night with friends, arcades, gondola rides and more. Sunday morning came and we were reminded that it was Easter. The kids were a bit bummed to know that they wouldn't be home on Easter and that the Easter Bunny probably wouldn't find them. In fact, my daughter had left a note on the front door of our house saying, "I would like you to know that we'll be back this afternoon, soooo please give us eggs too. I bleav in you." Cutest thing ever. Luckily, the resort had an Easter Egg hunt. We got up early, dragged ourselves out of bed and walked down the hill to the hunt. The coordinator asked the kids not to take more than ten eggs so there would be enough for everyone. The kids went in, the kids came out, our kids straggled out last. She had two eggs and he had 3. He had a good attitude about it, she did not. Needless to say, they were a bit disappointed. So we head back up the hill to hit our room, pack up and drive home. By this time we realize our daughter is feeling sick. Turns out she had a bit of a cold.

So we head over the mountains to go home. She can't watch movies or play games in the car because she gets carsick. So she talks... and talks... and talks. She's a bit on the verbal side. Eventually, the poor thing passes out. After a couple of hours, we're home. She climbs out of the car first to head into the house for a nap. 10 seconds later she comes barrelin' back out through the garage screaming that the Easter Bunny was here! Her brother goes running in after her and my husband and I follow. It was amazing. The Easter Bunny hit every corner of the house. Horses were out on the floor in our daughter's room with eggs mixed in. There was a self portrait of the Easter Bunny on her bed drawn with her crayons on her favorite stickies. In our son's room, his Diary of a Wimpy Kid books were opened on his bed, his Harry Potter legos were out on the floor, and the letters "EB" were spelled out on his desk with pencils. In the living room, the movie "Grease" was out on the floor along with a bunch of XBox Kinects games. In the kitchen, there was a sad face on the fridge with the words "No Carrots" on a magnetic pad. On the kitchen island remained a piece of half eaten asparagus. This Easter Bunny was good! The kids had an amazing time. They said they truly believed in the Easter Bunny now. They spent the better part of the next three hours bartering over their candy and trading until they were both happy. At the end, they both sorted their candy into piles that were color coordinated (I suggested making a multiple bar graph. Sadly, no one was interested.).

At the end of the evening, before bed, the best part was my daughter's thoughts on the whole day. She thought that for the Easter Bunny to have accomplished so much in our house, he must have spent significant time here. In fact, she decided he must have had a sleep over Saturday night. He must have known we'd be out of town and he used our house as a respite before the big day. She's decided to write a children's book (you can't steal this idea). She decided each page of the book would show the bunny doing something at our house: Xbox Just Dance 3, Reading bed time stories in her bed, hiding eggs, chillaxin' in the hot tub, eating aspragus, watchin' Grease in full costume, playing with horses in her dress-up clothes, playing Harry Potter Legos in full Harry Potter Costume (yes, we have it), and so much more. Cutest idea ever! So when this book comes out on shelves, you'll have to check it out since you heard it here first! Hoppy Easter!

Drunkbook

I hate Facebook, and yet, once a month, after a night full of wine I sit up late, in the dark, after my husband has given up on trying to manage me, and sign in to Facebook and make a fool of myself. I've done some regrettable things. I believe I contacted a boyfriend from like 20 years ago and hounded him for not staying in touch (as it happened to be New Years Eve, turns out, I heard he happened to be spending a pleasant anniversary with his soon to be fiance... oops!) I come up with my best comments on those nights. I think I'm hysterical. And always, every single time, I regret my lack of inhibition the next day. I remember that my friend, family, coworkers, children's friend's parents, etc., see me on this thing, and that, what I think is witty and an hysterical social commentary, is not so hysterical to all of them. F*$# 'em. Cause it really is funny. Here's what we need to start: Drunkbook. Ok, you are my witness. I thought of it first. There needs to be a social media network that requires a failed breathalizer for you to login. You heard it here first. I'm sure there are 8 million possible lawsuits that stem from this line of thinking, but seriously, you know it should happen. We should all know whether or not the people we are reading posts from were under the influence or not at the time of said posting. It would also be nice to know there is a place where our posts will not be read unless the reader is under the influence. For example, two hours ago I sat down to do my blog. After sitting for 3 minutes, I told myself, "No, self, you promised not to touch the computer if you've had anything to drink." And as I had had a glass a wine, I walked away, very proud, I must admit. But here I am, 3 glasses of wine later, coming up with Drunkbook. Seriously, that's good stuff. There needs to be a place for moments like this. What do ya think?