Take That!

A random collection of thoughts and clip art:

--I’ve written before about how I often have to battle my Super Mom impulses.  It’s an ugly pattern.  I settle into a healthy perspective and lifestyle and then she starts creeping back in, convincing me that I need to be more and be better.  Well, I recently clashed with her once again.  I somehow decided that I could work 20 hours a week (it’s busy season with one of my contracts) without requiring childcare beyond pre-school hours, which totals...wait for it...five hours per week.  I could do this, Super Mom told me, without breaking a sweat and without snapping at loved ones.  I could do this AND maintain a tidy home and precious friendships.  I could do this, she promised, and cook nightly meals.  I could pull this off and still have relaxing moments and pleasant conversations with my husband at the end of the day.  Can you believe I bought into these lies?  Maybe you can do all of this, but I cannot. So, beginning this week, Sintayehu will be in childcare one day per week.  This, along with preschool hours, the occasional naptime, and a Saturday morning stretch, should allow me to complete my work and have time to enjoy life and be the kind, relaxed, loving person that I long to be.  Take that, Super Mom.

--For some reason, I decided to start packing lunches the night before rather than the morning of.  This is a small thing, but it has been revolutionary!  Why have I not done this for the last 2 ½ years?  The mornings have been so much less harried and so much more enjoyable.  I can actually sit down with a cup of coffee as the kids eat their toast.  Any other seemingly obvious parenting tips that I’ve been missing?

--Please don’t judge, but Sintayehu got a vacuum for her birthday.  At first I thought this seemed a bit sexist and was hesitant to allow such a thing, but after some thought I dismissed that idea and actually made the request when asked what Sintayehu might like for her birthday.  “Helping toys,” I said.  Sintayehu loves nothing more than to help me vacuum, to help her brothers dust, and to help Jake unload the dishwasher.    She loves to be where the action is at all times and she genuinely loves to help.  We bought the boys dolls, encouraged them to wear pink, bought them crowns and sometimes insisted on the “girl” toy at McDonald’s just to shake things up.  And, quelle horreur, Eli got a pink easy bake oven for Christmas.  I digress.

I like the idea of work as play, and I have to say, she loves her vacuum.  (For the record, so does Eli.)  But I will admit that I might have raised an eyebrow had I attended her birthday party as a bystander before I had a daughter.  However, I think that if Sintayehu were to grow up in a time where there were no other options for her beyond the hope of marriage and a life at home, then a vacuum would be a sad, sad gift.  But for a girl who will have incredible opportunities to pursue virtually anything she wants, then a vacuum doesn’t have the same meaning attached.  And honestly, if our Sintayehu decides to grow up and vacuum floors day in and day out, well then I think that's a beautiful, noble choice.  For now, it’s a toy that she enjoys.  It's a toy that allows her to mimic her mom and dad doing a monthly weekly chore.  (Can you tell I'm overthinking this?)  

Mostly, she just looks so funny when she vacuums.  This is often a morning activity...before her hair is done...while her robe (which she calls her “robot”) is still on...with snow boots on her feet.  In fact, she looks like this.  I think she rocks.