Tag Archives: Jellybean

Thanksgiving Tribute to Teens

Yeah, I said it. And I’m saying it with true sincerity. I am thankful for being the mother of teen daughters. Well, technically I have one teen and one tween, but my baby is about to turn twelve and that is way close enough. Excuse me while I sob into her baby blanket.

I still feel like some of you are skeptical, but you’ll be true believers by the end of this post.

Tens Reasons I’m Thankful to Have Adolescents

1. They completely cleaned the guest room and bathroom for the arrival of my mother.

2. Coco (14) is making the pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving dinner.

3. They schlepped all of my mother’s stuff in upon her arrival.

4. They cleaned up after the 3 course lunch we had with my mother.

5. They are doing laundry even as I hide in the closet writing this post.

And lest you think I just like having teens for the free labor . . .

6. They provide my cover story for

  • my One Direction infatuation
  • my intense interest in all things Hunger Games
  • my awkward love of Just Dance
  • our getting VIP tickets to see the Cake Boss
  • my viewing of TLC bridal shows like there’s going to be a test

7. I have tons of extra accessories and shoes to choose from now.

But most importantly . . .

8. They make me laugh. I appreciate their wit, their charm, and their comedic timing.

9. We can have for real discussions about books, movies, travel, music . . . and One Direction. Did I mention that before?

10. They are my very favorite people in the world and not just because I made them. They are beautiful inside and out. They make every experience more enjoyable because they are interesting people. I mean c’mon, look at Jellybean’s Medusa Turkey.

So goes my tribute to adolescents. Be sure to throw it in my face when I have my next teen induced breakdown. You’ll probably have to wait a whole 15 minutes before that happens.

 

What are you thankful for?


 

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Ghost of Halloween Post Past

I’m sitting here sipping my coffee on the deck, enjoying the last of the fall foliage and Indian Summer before Hurricane Sandy hits to blow it all away and I just itch to write a Halloween post. But we haven’t done a ton of Halloweening this year because of my appendectomy.  With me down and recovering, my family has been so focused on the necessities — food, clean laundry, transportation, and preventing me from busting my incisions open — that decorating has taken a back seat. This is the extent of our festiveness.

Decorations: 10% Pic Monkey, 50% carved, 100% consumed by fruit flies.

 

But with Frankenstorm coming our way, the lack of decorating really seems like a stroke of brilliance. While my neighbors scramble to take down corn stalks and dollar store ghosts, I get to sit here scrolling through our blog archives. And low and behold, I wrote a Halloween post last year! That exactly 12 people read because the blog wasn’t live when I “published” it.

So with a little editing, I’m sending this gem into the blogosphere for real. It was originally titled “Halloween is Sucking Me Dry Like a Bingeing Vampire.” Erin and I were trying to get this blog started and I had a ton of other things going on. I was nearly erupting in hives from the time suck Halloween was for me last year. In fact, here is a “snapshot” of a two hour period in my household:

Helped Jellybean (10) to construct a papier-mâché zombie wedding cake
Cooked dinner
Edited a speech by Coco (13)
Braided Coco’s hair so it would be wavy when delivering the speech
Mended the shirt to be worn during the speech
Folded laundry
Shortened the pinkie of a Michael Jackson glove

I know the most surprising thing on this list is why would I be folding laundry when I have two perfectly good children to do this. Well, we desperately needed clean underwear in our drawers  and Coco was writing her speech and Jellybean was not yet woman enough to multi-task to the level of working with flour paste and clean laundry simultaneously.

Would you like a slice with finger or brain?

But in all seriousness, I bet half of you didn’t even blink an eye that I was making a papier-mâché zombie wedding cake. Congratulations, you are my kind of parents. You were doing your own equally stupid things for Halloween, so I don’t seem that far off the bell curve to you.

But the “cake” did have a purpose. At my daughter’s elementary school, they have this great event, started by a great teacher called Trunk-or -Treat.  Parents circle their cars at the fire company’s carnival grounds and the kids trick-or-treat from trunk to trunk.  Sounds simple in theory, right?  But what would be the fun if there was no competition involved?  Of course, we have to decorate the trunks!  It is in its fourth year and as with all good things it gets grander and grander.

The first year we opened our decoration box and threw a bunch of stuff in our trunk.  APPARENTLY, we were not really embracing the spirit of the whole thing.  I got to burn with the shame of “Slacker Mom.”  The second year we did an 80’s theme, but alas, the older gentlemen judging the trunks were not feeling that “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”  The third year we won a trophy (that is still proudly displayed on the mantle) for “Kid Friendliest Theme.”  Check out the “Funky Monkey Hot Tub.”

Cleanliness of monkeys cannot be confirmed. Enter at own risk.

 

Well, our theme last year was “Zombie Wedding.”  (We watch way too much “Say Yes To The Dress” and “Cake Boss”). We constructed a zombie couple out of PVC pipe to go with the aforementioned cake.  We’ll just say I spent $100 on this glorious-ness ::wink, wink:: since my husband reads my blog.  I swear, you give me PVC pipe, wire ties, duct tape, and fishing line and I can out-design MacGyver.

This is what 5 gazillion work hours looks like.

 

But oh my goodness, this trunk decorating dragged on my time so much that my family lived on fish sticks and learned to wear socks more than once. Don’t be too skeeved. We bought more underwear to bridge the gap. We’re not animals. Only deep breathing and wine prevented me from ruining all this fun with a screaming banshee grade meltdown. The killer is that this event replaced a free and simple school Halloween parade.  Kids just brought their costumes to school and walked around the field; simple as that.  But would we really be in the 21st century if we were allowed to keep things simple? If it doesn’t drive you to the brink of madness, is it really worth doing? Okay, I must interrupt this rant about the merits of simplicity with a confession. I did reallyenjoy making zombie breast implants. I disturbed my kids and I could not stop laughing.

NOT FDA Approved

 

But you know what truly made it all worthwhile? Winning, Baby! “Most Creative” trophy went to us! People were standing next to our creeps for photo ops like it was The Haunted Mansion at Disney World. Was it all worth it for the plastic trophy and $10 Wawa gift card?  I must admit, we are competitive enough to say, “Yes!”  But truth be told, Jellybean’s excitement and pride were pretty awesome, too.  I could hear the thump of one more brick mortared into the foundation of our relationship.  And here is the Sisterhood Secret: you  REALLY need that foundation to be strong by the time they reach their teens.  Just ask Coco, who wasn’t too cool to celebrate with the rest of us.

-Ellen

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First World Kid Problems

Remember those back-to-school essays: “What I Did on My Summer Vacation”? Heck, your pride and joy might be composing one as we speak.

But no one ever asks us Moms what we did. What’s that you say? Oh, now you want to know what we did? Well, it feels a bit patronizing, but since you asked, here’s what we did:

We Broke Our Kids

Erin: We are very blessed to be able to stay home with our kids but rest assured, we make the most of it.

Ellen: So much so that on one particular day, when we had nothing to do, Jellybean (11) screamed, “Hooray, I’m staying in my jammies all day!”

Erin: Yeah, if only we ALL could be as tortured as Jellybean.

Ellen: We are crying a river for her First World Problems…

Erin: So with our tongues wedged firmly in our cheeks…

First World Kid Problems Endured by Our Children

 

Learned to Fish Before Learning To Read. Could Have Just Gone To The Grocery Store.

 

 

Sore Arms Because Our Moms Stick Us In  Canoes or Kayaks Every Chance They Get. Made it Hard To Keyboard.

 

 

Had To Find Our Shoes Because A Small Fortune  Was Spent on Appropriate Footwear for Outdoor Adventures. Lost Our Level On Doodle Jump.

 

 

Had to Learn Fun But Silly Sports. Didn’t Get To Play Wii.

 

 

 

Had To Dance In The Rain.  TVs, Couches, And Computers Were Not An Option While Camping.

 

 

Had To Conquer Power Tools Because Mom Insists I Have Life Skills.  Could have ordered this stuff online with my smartphone.

 

 

Trotted Out To Playgrounds and State Parks For Fresh Air & New Experiences. Needed To Practice Wipe-Out On Our Kinects At Home.

 

 

Had To Swim With Rocks In Falling Water. Could Have Just Googled The Closest Chlorinated Pool.

 

 

 

 

Had To Learn Hard-Core Safety Techniques. We Thought Our Moms Could Keep Us Safe With Bubble Wrap.

 

 

Had To Whittle Toys. Mom Forgot To Pack My Action Figures.

 

 

Erin: So, alas, even if our kids’ essays sound a little wistful for some downtime, we can say that it was all for their own good. We did it all out of love. We. . .

Ellen: . . . had a fabulous summer and we are NOT gonna be wracked with guilt that their hands hurt writing their back-to-school essays.

Erin: You know what this is, don’t you?

Ellen: What?

Erin: A First World MOM Problem.

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Proclaimed while watching the Olympic equestrian events. There was more than a little outrage over the horses doing all of the work and the riders getting all of the credit. And just like that, the lively discussion left the gates.

What she said.

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The Best Homes Are People Not Places

Happy Memorial Day, everyone! I hope you have had plenty of family time and have taken a moment to think about our freedom and remember all of the women and men who have secured it for us. That’s what it’s all about, right?

Erin is spending Memorial Day Weekend at the beach celebrating Ace’s 15th birthday. But I’m relaxing with my family close to home, going to some parties, doing some baking, and attacking some yard work. So there is no reason to skip Stasha’s Monday Listicle: 10 WORDS THAT DESCRIBE YOUR HOME. A girl can only haul so much mulch or bake so many cookies without a break. Quick word of advice, don’t let those two activities cross paths. Mulch in baked goods cannot be passed off as fiber.

Erin's Weekend

Ellen's Weekend. This is totally representative of my discovery of the snake skin shed in the holly bush I was trimming. No exaggeration.

So where to begin? Erin threw out this helpful email, “My house is known as command central.” Gee, I think we all can say that. Not really enough to work with. Even though I’m not rollicking on the beach, I have better things to do than create lists out of thin air.

Then there is the post we wrote about Erin’s Oasis and my counter post about The Coco Room Apocalypse. Quite frankly, they provided TOO much to work with. And since  my house hasn’t been completely clean since I started blogging, I was in no mood to review Erin’s neat house techniques, albeit, they are very good and handy.

See? I'm sappier than I let on.

So I was going to copy from this canvas on my wall because Erin has a very similar one hanging in her house. But it seemed very precious and quite frankly, a little plagiarize-y. I mean, do I really want to stoop to ripping off the equivalent a Hallmark card? I may have a touch of the sappy, but I ooze with integrity. I’m Googling right now to see if there is an ointment for that.

But I was inspired! The Listicle asks for words describing our homes, not our houses. I was on the right track with the wall art, but I needed originality. Our homes are the people who fill our hearts and clog our septic systems, not the disorderly conditions of our stray sock baskets. And since you can’t get more one-of-a-kind than the people in our lives, I present without further ado…

The People Who Transform Our Houses Into Homes

(While the names have been changed per our kids’ requests, the personalities are all real.)

Erin’s Army first…

They are almost this funny. Wait, they ARE this funny.

1. Ace. My oldest son just turned 15 years old and is completing his freshman year in High School.  He is a huge sports fan and plays soccer and runs track. Ace looks like my husband and acts like me. He can make friends with a light bulb.  He is funny, impetuous, and confounding.

2. Biddie. Her blog name came to me, because my husband’s family is Polish.  They used this nickname  for his sister when she was younger, because she was small but mighty.  That’s our Biddie. Thirteen years old, smart, creative, funny, and athletic, Biddie is everything I wish I was at her age.

3. Charlie. He is my 11 year old who loves soccer, Comic Books, and hats.  I swear that he is either going to be the Frat President in college or its mascot. The kid is slightly cracked, but in the best possible way. Everybody loves him. One of the nicest compliments a teacher gave us about him was that of the 24 kids in his class, twenty-three of them considered him one of their best friends. He is our soft, sweet center.

4. Deacon. He was the one I had the hardest time renaming for the blog. His actual name is soooo perfectly him that it was hard to imagine him or referring to him any other way.  Deacon is 8 years old and loves to build LEGOs, play soccer, and do science and art projects. At home, we sometimes call him The Hammer, because he has singular focus and knows what he wants.

5. Eddie.  Eddie is a total Momma’s boy. My husband implied that his obsession might be a little more than your average bear (do you see where we are going with this? Oedipal Complex?).  Eddie is 4 years old and loves Star Wars, stealing the iPad2 from his siblings, books, and hiking. He is stubborn, smart, and adorable—a deadly combo.

6. Steve. Last, but never least, is my husband of 15 years, Steve. When I told him that I was going to use military-inspired aliases for the blog and I thought that I might call him The Colonel (you know, because I am The General), he said, “I feel more like The Corporal.”  He makes me laugh most days, and he is the most patient, kind person I have ever known. He’s the best.  You are just going to have to trust me on this one.

Now Ellen’s Crew…

Don't worry, we only wear these pants on Thanksgiving..for the stretch. Oh and on Groundhog Day...for the style.

7. Frank. He is my soul mate and the best father I could imagine for our two girls.  We have been together since he hit on me on that fraternity house lawn.  I am blessed to have his support and love.  He is sharp and witty and definitely lightens me up.  I might be a smidge intense. I do have a tendency to tell him that he is lucky I don’t have an addictive personality, because he might be a bit of an enabler.  But hey, he boosts my ego when Coco gets done with me.

8. Coco. So, Coco is nearly 14.  I think she really picked the alias Cocoa because she loves chocolate, but I changed it to Coco because the girl has style.  She is a preternatural force.  She brought me to my knees as an infant with her colic and sometimes we question if the colic ever ended.  She is a musician, an athlete, an actress, a writer, and a first class student.  God gave her to me to keep me in my place.  You should thank her too, because she keeps me from thinking that I am all that and a bag of chips.  I am happy and blessed to know her.

9. Jellybean. She is 11.  She is the least pleased with any of this blog stuff.  She is a girl you want as your friend.  She is kind, but not sappy, and definitely has a bit of the imp about her; just ask the cat.  She is fun with a silly sense of humor, but has a well-defined BS meter.  She is happy to be with a group, but can go and do her own thing without forcing the group to conform to her.  She brings her determination to her sports, her Legos, and her schoolwork.  Jellybean just gets it done.  Her laugh has brought me joy from the first moment I heard it.

Hmmm…I ran out of family members. Seems like we didn’t have Monday Listicles in mind when we were squirting out kids. So number 1o is a bonus funny…

10. Antique White. This is something both of our families ridicule tease Erin about. She wants to paint everything in her home “Antique White,” (I know, that’s a whole different issue). She actually thinks she has painted everything “Antique White.” I, along with the entire Army and Crew, are here to tell the world, and her, once and for all: HER CHOSEN COLOR IS YELLOW!

So I guess the moral of this story is that Erin can’t suppress her sunny, positive personality with the bland and mundane, even when she tries.  

Fondly, Ellen

Booooooring Antique White or Sparkling Superfly Yellow?  Which do you think fits Erin best?

Now check out the other great Listicles, although I can almost guarantee they won’t contain a flying Boohbah.


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Jellybean (11) quipped this after I announced that not only did I send her prepared water bottle off to school with her sister, this meant that Coco (13) had not one, but two water bottles in her lunch bag.  I do blame blogging.  Ellen

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A Hit and A Miss: The Monday Listicle Game

This week on Monday Listicles we are following the prompt from Anna at The Mommy Padawan.  She charged us with creating a list of “10 things you really like about yourself, things you are good at, or your super powers!”

We actually feel pretty good about ourselves. This defies all reason if you check out our old school pictures, but what can we say, we were late bloomers. So, hopped up on our own hubris, we decided to ask our kids what they thought was good about us.

 Ellen

When I asked my kids what they liked about me, the resulting conversation felt like a rollicking three ring circus.  So my list got a little out of control. I’m going to give each of my kids five things, because when you get this much sunshine blown your way, it feels like Mother’s Day.

Jellybean (11)

1. You buy us Cheez-its three boxes at a time.

Me – But what do you like about ME, beyond what I buy for you? You know, the inner me?

Jellybean – You have intestines.

That’s my girl!

2. Your fashion sense isn’t embarrassing.

Whew!

3. You do doctor stuff like healing my wounds.

4. You make great Tater Tot casserole and you stay fit.

Those two things seem kinda contradictory, don’t they?

5. You made me.

And my heart sings.

Coco (13)

1. You’re able to persevere through anything.

Wow.

2. You don’t get all uncomfortably up in my life.

3. You can parasail, rock climb, canoe, kayak, and hike.

Like a boss.

4. You are very creative with your blog.

That’s it. I need no other praise.

5. But what do you like about yourself, Mom?

Well, well.

Me – I like that I can pretty much do anything I put my mind to.

Jellybean and Coco – Yeah, we can see that.

Wow. Validation is mine, reflected back to me by my daughters’ words.

Erin

Wow. Reading Ellen’s kids’ reflections on their mom is sweet and inspiring and dear. My first thought after I asked my crew what they liked about me and heard their responses: “Huh, now I know why some animals eat their offspring.”

Sometimes Momma Bear just has to take matters into her own, er, paws!

To be fair, we were traveling in the car when I asked them, but here is the list unedited (and my crew didn’t make it anywhere close to 10!).

Me: So, what is something I do really well?

Crickets. Nada. Nothing. Then this. . .

1. Ace (14): You make great chocolate chip cookies.

Um, okay, he’s fourteen. All he thinks about is food.

2. Charlie (11): You are a great baker. You make great chocolate chip cookies.

Ok, slacker, your brother just said. . .

3. Deacon (8): Hmm, let me think. . . you make great chocolate chip cookies.

Really, boys? Where’s the love?

Now, I have heard that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but I didn’t know this applied to little men as well.

But I do make a damn, fine cookie if I say so myself.

Girl child made me feel slightly better . . .

4. Biddie (13, and my new favorite child): You are a creative writer, a good friend to everyone, you stay fit, and have a good fashion sense. Oh, and you make really good chocolate chip cookies.

Well, she is definitely fishing for something, but I’ll take it.

But the piece de resistance!!  My sweet baby who still cuddles me and tells me that I am his girlfriend and the most beautiful woman alive, what does he have to say??

5. Eddie (4): You are really good at yelling at Daddy.

(I feel like I need a disclaimer here: WE WERE ON A CAR TRIP! I was driving, and Steve was being a front-seat driver.)

Seriously? Are you kidding me?? The whole car thought that was a total hoot and raucous laughter ensued.

Charlie chimed in: “No do-overs! You have to put that on the blog.”

So there you go. Ellen’s kids sound like they want to nominate her for Mother of the Year, and MY kids sound like they want me in their own little sweatshop churning out the baked goods or appearing as a guest on Maury.

It just goes to prove what I have always known: My superpower is finding the humor in anything!!

So just to recap. . .

How Ellen’s Kids See Her: ROCK STAR

My kids tell me I look like Michael Jackson

How Erin’s Kids See Her: COOKIE JAR

My Kids tell me I look like Betty Crocker

Thank you to Stasha once again for her Monday Listicles. Without her, we might not have these beautiful family moments to treasure. But, in all seriousness, she has created a lovely community of writers who start their week off “write” with a list. Great writers, great blogs—what are you waiting for?? Get over there! Erin and Ellen

 

 

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Picture This

It was as beautiful a spring morning as ever was. A ray of sun filtered through Erin’s kitchen window spotlighting the telephone handset resting on the table. The two friends were uncharacteristically quiet as they sipped their coffee and the cat curled up on Ellen’s lap.

The phone rings and time seems to slow down as Ellen grabs Erin’s hand. “Well, answer it. You know your voicemail is full and they won’t be able to leave a message,” Ellen says.

Erin punches the button and lifts it to her ear. Even so, Ellen can hear, “Congratulations, your loan has been approved.” The radiant smile on Erin’s face confirms what she overheard. Ellen leaps to her feet, unceremoniously tipping the cat to the floor, to give her friend a hug.

Ellen proclaims, “Halleluiah, the kids can their get school pictures taken!”

ErinWell at least that is how it feels. I have FIVE kids. Five kids, people. And my father who adores school pictures. I take beautiful shots of my kids at the beach and the park. They are natural and expressive photographs and he likes them, but he LOVES the pictures taken by “professionals” in front of official backgrounds. 

Ellen– You mean the lapis lazuli vomit swirl background? Really?

ErinSomething about the official-ness of it must speak to his judicially ordered heart. And we get the full package for him: the 8 x10 for the homestead stairwell and the 5 x7 for the courthouse office.

Ellen – Well, at least someone likes them. I swear I spend a fortune every year, and they just sit in my china cabinet undistributed because they just aren’t a good product. (And, honestly, I let some things slip through the cracks.) I just feel so guilty if I don’t purchase them for some reason, like I’m making some larger public statement about how much I love and value my kids.

ErinI got your guilt. This, from Eddie’s preschool teacher, who nunned me up real good: “Just because he is the fifth child doesn’t mean you shouldn’t buy the picture package.”  

Ellen – Ouch!

ErinOh, it gets better. I caved and paid for the pictures.  Then. . .

Sister Mary Tarnish-My-Tiara says, “Everyone had wonderful pictures! You are going to be so excited to see them.” Long pause. “Except for Eddie. We had to take his picture 35 times, and the entire class was late to library because of it.”

Ellen– Did you get the bonus didn’t-want-to-make-eye-contact-staring-awkwardly-and-silently-at-the-ground pantomime from the rest of the moms because you were being scolded? By a nun.

Erin– But the end result was just as I predicted: a sourpuss picture of a disgruntled preschooler. I can get that any day of the week  just by telling him no. I don’t need it staring out of a frame at me.

Ellen –  I know that look. He seems to get it when we mention blogging, too. Poor tortured 4 year old.

Erin  But the real subliminal message to the world that we might not have our shizz together comes when the third grader wears his sports goggles in the class picture. That’s right. My sons, the future Rhodes Scholars, decided to play war THE NIGHT BEFORE class pictures, and, as any parent with 15 minutes of experience could tell you, things got ugly. And fast.

Luckily, the only casualties were Deacon’s glasses and my patience.

Ellen– Luckily, really!?! That seems to be an understatement, Pollyanna.

ErinOkay, we weren’t really lucky. Deacon’s eyes cross without his corrective eyewear, so a pic without glasses was never an option. I called the optometrist! But, denied! I can still hear them chuckling at the ridiculousness of my emergency request of making super special prescription glasses in 30 minutes. That’s right. I could hear THEM sharing the can-you-believe-what-this-crazy-mom-just-asked laugh—it was worthy of a group giggle.

My last resort without time or luck on our side were his sports goggles. His big, black, thick goggles complete with strap around the back. While I may cherish this picture and the fond, fond memories it brings, the other moms definitely looked askance at me afterward. And offered up fashion advice. Lots of it.

Erin models the goggles. Saying, “Not tonight honey,” without saying a word.

 

Ellen – The pressure of the class picture can make you crack. And you just keep telling yourself that message is subliminal. Those bad boys shout out, “This family is really just a steaming ball of hot mess.” Those pictures can’t be hidden in the china closet. They are up for worldwide distribution.

ErinNo one is feeling you more than me right now, Sister. 

Ellen– There is the whole what to wear thing EVEN when there is no vanity involved.  I’m not talking prissy girls throwing tantrums because they don’t have a shirt to perfectly match the blue of their eyes. I’m talking school-wants-to-make-everything-a-pain-in-my tuckus -because-no-one can-crosscheck-a-calendar.

School Admins: Ruining Mornings Since Little House on the Prairie

ErinI’m just gonna say it OUT LOUD: Jostens and Lifetouch are the cartels, but the schools are the Dr. Evil kingpins pulling the strings and making us dance.

EllenFor real! For the spring round of pictures, Jellybean (11) got the form for the April 13th pictures on April 10th. After coming off of spring break, this did not jump to the top of my priority list.

Flash to the morning of pictures and Jellybean comes down dressed like a hobo ready to clean out the garage.

“Honey, today is picture day. Why are you wearing old sweat pants?”

Jellybean-“Because it is the fitness test today in gym.”

Seriously, I’m shelling out $30 for pictures (cheapest substantial package) and the school scheduled the fitness test on the same day?

“Honey, they are taking the CLASS picture today. We can’t have you distributed to multiple households looking like a refugee. Or like one of Erin’s offspring. What about that cute dress you wore on vacation?”

Jellybean- (possibly a little tearful from me calling her a refugee) “But we have to do push-ups, pull-ups, and sit-ups. I can’t wear a skirt!”

Ellen- “So what time is gym?”

Jellybean – “First period.”

Of course it is. (In elementary school, they don’t get to change for gym.)

Ellen- “So you’re telling me that no matter what you wear, you’ll be a hot mess anyway by the time pictures roll around?”

Oy.

Ellen– So tick tock goes the clock, we go upstairs and settle on a embellished tank with a sweater, jeans, and Converse. Whatever, I surrender. The kicker? The gym teacher was absent so the fitness test was cancelled. Winner? The school for messing up my morning for no reason except its own evil entertainment.

Erin –  Seriously, we have 7 kids between us so the complaints reminiscing could go on forever. Let’s not forget that school pictures cornered you into highlighting Coco’s hair. But you do have to love the comedy in school pictures, too.

Ellen – I’m glad you can laugh. What about the tragedy of it all??

ErinOh wait a minute. WHAT ABOUT WHAT WE OVERCAME!

Ellen – That’s what I’m saying!

ErinI modeled the sports goggles. My pride is not an issue for this post.

Erin

 

Ellen – One of the first things Erin said when she handed me this picture? “Can you believe they didn’t even straighten my necklace?” Yes, that was exactly the first thing I was incredulous about.

ErinWhatever. Your turn.

Ellen – I’m actually proud about how far I have come.

ErinYou should be.

 

Ellen’s 7th Grade Picture. Believe me, the resolution is good enough.

 

Ellen – So clearly Erin is classier than me. I chose the group picture because I was not going down alone. We will close with Josten’s Mission Statement because, really, I would like for the whole blogosphere to tell them to suck it.

Jostens’ Mission Statement

Supporting your mission is our mission.

We take great care in passionately helping people:

Express themselves

Celebrate experiences and traditions

Recognize achievements

Share their stories

ErinJust one more thing I would like to add: Creating images that will cause your offspring to roll on the floor laughing at you with glee in their eyes. Have at them, Blogosphere!

 

-Ellen and Erin

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Don’t Have All of Your Friends in One Basket

"Don't Have All of Your Friends in One Basket" Parenting Advice: Diversify your kids's groups of friends. Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms

Tribes are a big part of Planet Teen © .  Your friends, your buds, your posse—If you are a teen, this core group can make or break your day. Most of the time, things are peaceful, sometimes less so. Here’s our take on maintaining your sanity when the tribe is rocky.

Ellen– If you have a teen or a tween, it feels like “PEER PRESSURE!” screams from every poster, magazine, and After School Special. Oh wait, After School Specials were my generation.

ErinAll of us of a certain age remember them—we had five channels and no remote. If you were a kid allowed to watch TV, you were tuning into such gems as My Mom’s Having A Baby—live birth and everything (should have probably taken notes or something) and Rookie of the Year (girls are great at sports too–who knew?) 

Ellen– Remember “Schoolboy Father,” where Rob Lowe lobbies to have custody of his baby even though he’s 16?

ErinWhat’s not to love? Anyway, these specials didn’t just aim to entertain, they had loftier goals—they wanted to educate us on some of the dangers of adolescence. 

Peer pressure figured in a lot of them. Apparently, friends were the real wolves in the forest. The ones with their sheep’s clothing sliding off in their not-so-subtle attempts to ruin your life.

Ellen– But in a rare turn, I’m going to look at the brighter side of things. Peer is not the bad word here. Peers can also provide wonderful support and encouragement.

Erin- Unfortunately, there is no way to order a “well-adjusted-fun-sweet-tempered-best-bud-for-your-kid” on the internet.

Ellen– Yet.

ErinBut you really are looking for more than “Hey, I’m a kid, you’re a kid” when trying to find a peer group that works for your kids.

Ellen- Now don’t get crazy ideas in your head about interviews and DNA samples. Your child has always got to have freedom in choosing his or her own friends.

ErinBut you know what they don’t have a choice over? Their birth year. For no other reason than when they were popped out into this world, they are stuck with their birth cohort at school.  In some schools, this group could be together for their entire K -12 lives.

Ellen– For some this could be the most comfortable fit in the world.

ErinFor others, the fit could be as awkward as OJ trying to squeeze his meaty paw into that glove.

Ellen– But while choosing your child’s friends is not something you should try to do or face dire consequences, what if you gave them more choices?

I have a phrase that I have coined, “Don’t Have All of Your Friends in One Basket.” Get it? A play off of the idiom, “Don’t Place All Your Eggs in One Basket.” I know, not a huge stretch, but focus on the wisdom of it, not my creativity.

"Don't Have All of Your Friends in One Basket" Parenting Advice: Diversify your kids's groups of friends. Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms

Thanks to Jellybean for crafting these friends

ErinIf I had any useful “Little House on the Prairie” skills, I would cross-stitch that sucker onto a dishtowel—that’s how genius this is! When kids are hanging together all the time, like in an elementary school classroom, nerves are bound to be frayed and cliques are bound to be formed. And you pray it won’t happen, but at some point your child might end up odd man out—kicked out of the basket.

Ellen– You know how you temper the angst? Move those kids around. Shake it up and create different baskets to land in. Through the grace of Lady Luck, I have nurtured and encouraged various circles of friends for my girls.

Erin– It’s like dosey-doe-ing your way through the square dance of life—switching partners just when things start to get a little ugly. I have nurtured such dance moves in my own crew, and we are all much happier for it.

Ellen– Sometimes it is better to be lucky than good. We didn’t start out with this strategy—it just kind of grew. But when Middle School reared its ugly head, we realized what a special thing our kids had.

Erin– Sixth grade was an ugly beast for Biddie. Dear sweet girls who had been close friends morphed into something else entirely. Our perfect fit was off, and school became a painful, ugly place.

Biddie was ready to cut the girls out. But we have a small school, it really did just look like hormones run amok (I never for one minute thought the girls were intentionally hurting her), and now was the time to learn how to deal with difficult people. Ellen shared her “Don’t Poop In Your Own Den” maxim, and we took it to heart. We also took a break.

"Don't Have All of Your Friends in One Basket" Parenting Advice: Diversify your kids's groups of friends. Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms

You heard us.

EllenIn case you are just joining us, “Don’t Poop In Your Own Den,” means not to cause a stink in a place where you have to stay.  Just like Ross and Rachel you can take a break without both sides knowing, but unlike in “Friends,” it can be a good thing—the best thing even.

ErinI asked Biddie, “Listen, who is not involved with the drama?” She told me about studious, quiet Abby who read during lunch.

“Well, girlie, Abby just became your new best friend.”

Biddie took a break from the school girl drama with a series of great books (Highly recommend The Penderwick books and The Lightning Thief series), and a quiet non-drama buddy to sit with at lunch. She focused her middle school friend energy (which is limitless) on her neighborhood friends, Ellen’s girls and their associated posse, and her track buddies.

No more sleepovers with school friends for a whole semester. No more afterschool time with them either. I keep hearing Ross from Friends voice, “WE WERE ON A BREAK.”

 

And you know what? After a spring and a summer laying low, by the time we reconvened for 7th grade in the fall, all had settled and life has been drama-free. We know we were lucky. We are also pretty darn happy.

Ellen– So I guess we would like to help you tweak your luck. If you have young kids, you are primed for this advice.

ErinAnd even if you have older kids, it’s really never too late to put this in action. Even if these “baskets” start when the kids are young, they are constantly morphing and shifting.

Ellen– One of the most important groups in our lives is the “Baby Friends.” These are a group of kids from our original playgroup. And I use the term “original” loosely.  On a playgroup pickiness scale of 10, I’m probably a 15.

Erin– I know not of this scale you speak of. I have zero radar and am not picky in the least. This brings its own issues sometimes, but I’ll try to stay focused.

Ellen– The playgroup members shifted around quite a bit in the beginning until the moms found a good fit.

Yes, we based it more on the moms than the kids. The kids were two—they didn’t care who they were snatching the toy from.

It all started with MOMS Club. You can see if they have a local chapter near you. It might be a good fit.

ErinFast forward 11 years and Ellen’s Labor Day party was a showcase for this group in action. Many of the people there were from the original MOMS Club group, but many were new friends who had fallen into the bunch. We Mom friends live in all the corners of our rural county, so the kids don’t get to see each other much anymore. But they fell in together like their days in the sandbox were yesterday.

Ellen– I think the giant inflatable water slide helped.

"Don't Have All of Your Friends in One Basket" Parenting Advice: Diversify your kids's groups of friends. Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms

This wasn’t even half of the kids there

ErinNow don’t despair if playgroup days have passed you by. Playgroup for elementary school is spelled like this: extracurricular activities.

That’s right. Once your kids are wiping their own noses and tying their own shoes, that sandbox looks like a soccer field, a Boy Scout or Girl Scout meeting, a dance studio, or a Destination ImagiNation team practice.

Ellen – It looks like a church youth group, a theater stage, or a Lego League. There is a fit for every personality type, so start googling now. Look at your local Parks and Recreation, community college, or library website for activities that make your child feel happy and comfortable. Service groups are a good warm and fuzzy fit, too, because they are already  made up of kids who are willing to work for the good of the community.

ErinSo when that snit of a mole hill becomes a mountain of frenemy warfare, a nice safe basket will be ready and waiting for your babies to jump into until the storm passes.

-Ellen and Erin

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