The Tooth Fairy’s Request

Warning: This post is for people with all of their adult teeth only! If you still have baby teeth, stop reading NOW!

Are they gone? Ok, good. Now let me ask you a question. Why are you still torturing yourself with sneaking into your child’s room and digging around under their pillow while they are sleeping like some dentally-obsessed ninja? It’s insane!

I remember the first time I played tooth fairy. My daughter was an early tooth-loser (which apparently is expected when your teeth grow in at 4 1/2 months), and I was not prepared. The good (?) news was she swallowed her first tooth (down the hatch with a hotdog at daycare), so I didn’t need to dig for a tooth. We penned an apology letter to the tooth fairy and stuck that under her pillow instead. Still, my heart was beating so hard when I tiptoed into her dark bedroom that I was sure the sound would wake her up. It didn’t, of course, but the stress was too much. After a couple more of these late night adventures, enough was enough. I needed a plan.

Enter: the tooth fairy request letter. I wrote a poem, printed it off, and put it into my daughter’s little rinse cup in the bathroom. Voilà! My tooth fairy anxiety was over. The tooth fairy’s request was as good as gold, beyond questioning, and incapable of having its terms negotiated.
Check out the digital download on Etsy! Even comes with a tooth fairy logo.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1478577375/the-tooth-fairys-request

Ride the Coaster

Like a lot of adults over 30, I did not get to choose how I spent my birthday this year. So, there I was, celebrating at Valleyfair in Shakopee, Minnesota, home of Wild Thing, a rollercoaster that goes as high in the air as it can without interfering with incoming aircraft, reaching speeds higher than most states allow on any interstate freeway.

I am not even remotely an adrenaline junkie. In fact, my idea of a rush is not wearing my life jacket on a pontoon ride. But instead of fighting against the tide of my family’s excitement, I tried to make the best of it while setting very clear boundaries.

More than once, I declared, “It’s my birthday, and I will not be bullied into doing anything I don’t want to do.”

A strong backbone only goes so far in the face of a begging 8 year old, so luckily, I had an even better excuse to refuse to ride – my 5 year old. She is the perfect size for the Planet Snoopy rides but just a couple inches shy of the minimum for the more intense rides.

“You guys go,” I said to my husband and oldest daughter. “I’ll stay with her.”

It made me feel like a good mom. The little one was happy I was with her. Dad and big sister got to ride all the rides they wanted. I didn’t have to do anything that scared me. It was a win-win-win-win. Or so I thought.

Every so often, they circled back with us, eyes lit up like matching blue fireworks, smiles plastered across their faces.

“Steel Venom is the best!”

“That’s my favorite so far too! Should we do the Rip Cord?”

“Yeah! But let’s not do the Starship again. That was boring.”

“We should definitely go on Delirious though, and the Corkscrew again for sure.”

The two of them were speaking a language I didn’t understand. I started to feel like I was missing out as they took off for more adventures.

I waved to the little one as she rode up and down on the Kite-Eating Tree, but my eyes kept wandering over to the coasters.

I used to like this stuff. Maybe I should just do it.

My heart fluttered. Butterflies started dancing in my stomach. I could hear my heartbeat as my breath quickened ever so slightly.

Nah, forget it.

How often do we as moms do this? We “opt out” to watch the little ones. We use our motherly duties as an excuse to not take risks, or do scary things, or get out of our comfort zones. And, many times, we do so happily, convinced we are doing what is right, what is expected, and something no one can argue with.

I’m calling B.S.

Not on sitting out at Valleyfair – on sitting out at life. We have to stop using our kids as scape-goats.

Of course, there are legitimate times we need to tag out. Nobody wants to see you run a marathon with a newborn strapped to your chest. But if you are beyond that mentally and physically consuming stage of motherhood, step back and ask yourself if you are using your kids as an excuse not to try.

Being a mom takes a ton of time and energy, but it also builds invaluable skills that are needed in every aspect of our world. If you are a mom, you are a peacemaker, a rule-maker, an educator, a caretaker, a quick-thinking problem solver, and a hell of a strategist. If you weren’t, there is no way you could hold your head up long enough to read this. We need moms – like you and me – to be out there following our callings, building bridges, uniting communities.

If we “opt out” and use motherhood as an excuse, what is that saying to our kids, especially our daughters? Be a mom OR… something else. You can’t do both. I don’t know about you, but this is not the message I want my daughters to receive.

I want my daughters to know you can be an awesome mom AND…

…have a career.

…compete in sports.

…volunteer in your community.

….advocate for something you believe in.

…do something for no other reason than you love it and it’s fun.

So how do you ensure they are receiving the right message? It’s not by reigning them in and never letting them leave your sight. It’s by doing. By setting an example. By showing them that you can be a mom, this magical person who cures all ills, AND.

We cannot afford to have moms sitting on the sidelines. We have to play the game. We have to ride the Wild Thing.

And I did, literally. I screamed…a lot. I giggled…a lot. I thought I was going to throw up for a few seconds. But I know I made my daughter proud, and that was worth every terrifying second.

Sweet Dreams Potion

I wouldn’t say I’m a proponent of lying to your kids. Not really. But I am a proponent of greasing their imaginations to stir up courage, positivity, and fun! I admit, the “greasing” is typically spurred on by a desire to preserve my own sanity, but I don’t think that’s selfish. I mean, when Mom is sane, we all win, right? Right.

Our 4 year old is afraid of bugs. More precisely, she is deathly afraid of all bugs. This has been easy enough to navigate during the winter, but with spring (supposedly) on the horizon, it’s getting harder by the day. We had a housefly buzzing around the other day, and she screamed bloody murder, started shaking, and ran for shelter. And she knew it was just a fly. Oh, and ladybugs? Forget it! She does NOT find them cute in the least.

We were dealing with this phobia alright until the other night. At two in morning, she started screaming about imaginary bees and for the next three hours, begged to sleep in our bed. Something had to be done. So, naturally, I made up a potion.

Inspired by a friend’s story of using “monster spray,” I came up with the Sweet Dreams (and no bugs) Potion. This potion, combined with two new night lights, will keep your preschooler’s dreams free from bugs and your bed free from preschoolers. Or at least, that’s how it worked at my house. Anything is worth a shot for a good night’s sleep!

Recipe for:

Sweet Dreams (and No Bugs) Potion:

  • Fill a spray bottle with water, then add:
    • 5 drops lavender essential oil
      1 drop peppermint essential oil
      A pinch of sugar
      A kiss from every person in the house

    Shake it up while saying these words:

    Sweet dreams, no bugs
    Bedtime kiss and lots of hugs
    Bad thoughts out, good thoughts in
    Soon the sun will rise again

    Spray two pumps in your room at bedtime for sweet dreams (and no bugs). Spray more or repeat the words as needed.

    Sweet dreams!

    The Tightrope of Parenting

    I participate in a group at church in which parents get together to discuss random life challenges while our kids attend Sunday School. Even though I can’t tell you the names of half the people in the group (and it’s like 5 people), I truly look forward to the conversations each week. I always end up learning something.

    One week, a mom relayed a story about her preteen son getting into a fight. Or, rather, getting punched. Her reaction was very different from that of her husband. She was horrified by the fact that this happened at all and wanted to talk it out with the aggressor’s family. Her husband thought their son needed to stand up for himself and was disappointed he didn’t return the punch. As a group, none of us knew which one was right, and the mom herself had mixed feelings. Initially, I chalked this up as one more reason I’m happy I have two girls – less likelihood for physical confrontation. But that’s a stereotype, and even if it’s statistically true, having daughters does not make me immune from being faced with tough parenting choices.

    Parenting is like walking a tightrope without a net. It’s a constant balance between being a confidant and a disciplinarian. The one who calms fears and the one who commands respect. The arms that hold you and the arms that push you forward. Should we shelter them from the storm or push them out into the rain? My philosophy sounds something like this – let them watch the rain from indoors while you teach them to build their own umbrella.

    We can’t stop the rain from falling or the punches from being thrown. All we can do is build up our children so they are able to decide for themselves how to handle it when it happens. We may or may not agree with how it turns out, but at least the situation was theirs to own. They’ll never learn from our mistakes the way they will learn from their own. Our job is to help them process it all. Teach them to breathe. Help them discover who they are.

    Kids are not a demonstration of our successful parenting techniques. They are people with personalities, tendencies, and genetic intricacies we will never fully understand. To think we can form them like balls of clay is absurd, and if you try, you will be constantly frustrated. Instead, let us treat them like the individuals they are, leading them down the wide path of human decency, making room for the millions of ways there are to walk it.

    Easier said than done, I know…

    I’m Done with Perfection-Induced Hatred

    Hello there, mom with a baby on your hip, hair cut stylishly to your chin with bangs sweeping gently across your perfectly threaded eyebrows. You patiently smile at your toddler, crawling around your platform booties, reaching up toward your new Kate Spade bag. The wide windows of your recently built home backlight your silhouette, curved in every spot it should be and nowhere that it shouldn’t.

    Today, I make you this promise. I will not hate you for being perfect. I will not tear you down for waking up early to go out for a run or to make a green smoothie. I will not judge you for paying attention to fashion trends or question you for being able to live on less sleep than a giraffe. I will not envy you for being able to work full-time or stay home more than full-time with the grace of Dutchess Kate. And I will not resent you for being better at social media photography than I will ever be.

    I’m done with perfection-induced hatred. It’s hurtful for you and me personally, and for women in general. Henceforth, I shall respect the game you bring to Insta, learn from the organic treats you provide at Girl Scouts, and engage with you like the human being you are. I will not measure myself against you anymore. This world needs us both.

    Adventures in Potty Training

    I’d read all the books and had tricks up my sleeve
    I knew she would do it if we’d all just believe.

    The neighbor boy was trained starting at 1.
    His mom told me, straight-faced, “Don’t worry, it’s fun!

    And you have a girl? Oh yeah, what a snap!”
    But I’ll tell you one thing – She was so full of crap.

    We started with “boot camp,” then stickers and charts
    Bribing with candy – each one a false start.

    Pull-ups, bare bottom, or fancy underwear,
    She went where she wanted, she just didn’t care.

    “What’s wrong with you?” I’d scream. “You’re almost 3!”
    “Seriously, Mom, who cares where I pee?”

    (Ok, this isn’t word for word
    But basically, that’s what I heard.)

    Then one day, I’m inspecting a wrinkle
    When from behind me, I hear it – a tinkle!

    “Baby! You did it! This is more than sublime.”
    “Yeah, like I said, Mom, all in due time.”

    Should I Have More Kids?

    I can’t tell you how many hours, days, and even years I have spent brain wrestling myself over this one. But finally, I found my answer. Not with the flip of a switch, but gradually, like waiting in the half-darkness of a neighborhood bonfire, moving my lawn chair around as I squinted through the smoke, finally seeing the white hot embers of a fire in ideal marshmallow-roasting condition.

    That’s how I found my answer. Spoiler alert: I didn’t find yours. If you are looking for someone to answer this question for you, let me send you a coupon for a magic 8-ball. While I don’t have answers for you, I can relate, and I will give you advice. I know what these brain-wrestling matches look like, and maybe the questions that helped me the most can help you too.

    First, I want to acknowledge the privilege of being able to ponder this question. The ability to conceive a child when you want to is a gift that so many people have not been given. I write this post knowing it is a moot question for too many. Truth be told, it was one reason I felt like I should have more kids. For all those moms-in-waiting who can’t have their babies or lose their babies or continue to wait for their babies, why would I not want to have more kids? What greater gift is there than growing life inside your own body? Take advantage of that privilege, dummy! On the other hand, I am one of few women I know who has not had to face the loss of a pregnancy. And why, when I have two healthy children, why would I want to risk that? Be satisfied with what you have, dummy!

    As someone who has made this impossible decision, here’s my advice to you.

    1. Listen to Your Heart

    I remember one mom of three telling me that after she had two, “I looked in the rear view mirror, and I just knew there was an empty seat. Our family wasn’t complete.” How magical is that? I thought for sure I would have that feeling too.
    After my first, I said to everyone who would listen, it’s going to be a LONG time before I do that again. But 3 years later when I laid eyes on my second daughter, I felt it so clearly, we are definitely going to do this again. (Apparently, planned C-sections don’t illicit the same snarky exhaustion as a 30 hour labor). But here we are, over four years later, and we haven’t done it again. And we won’t. The heart may be your guide, but it’s fickle.

    2. Listen to Your Head

    Think about the risks. Do you or your partner have any health issues? How have your other pregnancies been? How old are you?
    Let’s be real. Since I’m talking to women who already have a child or two here, please consider that you are needed. If your last pregnancy almost physically killed you or mentally wore you down to the brink of a breakdown, consider that. Your pre-existing kid(s) need you.

    3. Listen to Your Wallet

    I know, this is so lame. But kids are expensive! Now, if you are one of those families who thrives on minimalism, makes your own clothes, and considers coupon-cutting an exciting Sunday afternoon, kudos to you! I sincerely admire that. But for the rest of you shameful consumers like me, things add up. Sometimes it is not even the things you choose, but it’s things like medical bills or high-priced organic hemp baby formula. The point is, the expenses can be unpredictable, so make sure you are prepared to take it on. Financial stress is toxic and truly is no laughing matter.

    4. Listen to Your Family

    If your partner in life is adamant about having or not having more kids, you need to listen. What are they truly seeking? Why do they feel so strongly?
    And of course, listen to your existing kids. It might not be in their words (if they even have words yet), but you likely have an inkling as to how full your hands are. What will be the effect of another sibling on your existing ones?
    Don’t forget about the grandparents if you are lucky enough to have them. Especially if they are heavily involved with the children and/or you depend on them for childcare on a regular basis, the effect on them should probably be considered. The status of your support system (i.e. the proverbial “village” that it takes) is a key factor in raising healthy children.

    5. Keep Listening

    Sometimes it is hard to hear your own voice over the din of other people’s opinions. Keep trying. Ask yourself, am I making my decision for the wrong reasons? As a lawyer, I fully understand we could argue all day about what the definition of a “wrong” reason is, but as a woman and a mother, might I suggest that the only wrong reason is one that’s not your own.
    If you’re not having more kids because you are terrified every time the child you have gets a cold and you know deep down that your heart can’t handle more sleepless nights, then who is to say that’s the wrong reason?
    If you want to have four kids because you can’t stand the thought of an odd number, who is to say that’s the wrong reason?
    If you’ve always longed for an idyllic holiday season when a big group of adult children comes home to reunite, who can say that’s the wrong reason?

    I think all we can do is acknowledge that this decision will be different for each family. In the end, there are just as many pros as cons, but the weight of those pros and cons depends upon who you are, what you believe, and what your circumstances are.
    For me, I got comfortable with occasionally doubting my decision not to have another kid. Some days, I can tangibly feel that doubt coursing through me, my arms aching for the weight of a sleeping baby. But eventually, it shakes off of me somehow…
    I guess the high-pitched screaming about who hit who first and whose turn it is with the remote kind of helps.

    The Curse of the Cozy Womb

    My stomach is squished
    There’s no room for food
    I’m constantly fighting
    A very bad mood

    My face has grown jowls
    My pants barely fit
    No energy for standing
    But it hurts when I sit

    My belly keeps growing
    My skin showing marks
    I swear as I’m walking
    I’m throwing off sparks

    I keep growing outward
    My back caving in
    It feels like this baby
    could break through my skin

    I see other people
    Mask their confusion
    When my shirt suddenly forms
    an oblong protrusion

    As I laugh it off as
    “she’s saying hello”
    I see genuine fear
    That my belly might blow.

    My womb must be cozy
    A place of pure joy
    If only you’d learn
    My ribs aren’t a toy

    Nor is my bladder
    Your own trampoline
    Sometimes I wonder
    Can a fetus be mean?

    My aches and my pains
    Soreness and swelling
    How does this make
    For your comfortable dwelling?

    It does me no good
    To cry or to shout
    Sooner or later
    You’ll have to come out

    I know this discomfort
    Is worth it for you,
    But I promise you this –
    My arms are cozy too.

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