Hand-washing song

by Melissa

Everything is easier with a song! Here's one of our favorites that (I think) we made up, to the tune of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat"...



Keep in mind this is a demonstration of the song, not of hand-washing (I'm usually helping) nor of singing (except maybe the munchkin's cute li'l voice).

Scrub, scrub, scrub our hands
Scrub them every day
Scrub, scrub, scrub our hands
Scrub the germs away
Rinse, rinse, rinse our hands
Rinse them every day
Rinse, rinse, rinse our hands
Rinse the soap away
[and then we...]
Dry, dry, dry our hands
Dry them every day
Dry, dry, dry our hands
Dry the water away!
[Yay!]

flipping out? flip a coin!

by Melissa

it doesn't seem to matter what i make. unless it's a hot dog or some other talent-less dish, my girls generally refuse to eat. Sweet One complains. Little One just dumps her milk over everything. for the most part, i don't care. don't want to eat? fine. next meal is breakfast! still, it would be nice to see some of that nourishment reach their bellies. enter my friends to the rescue...

my friend Julie shared this strategy recently on Facebook (where else?) that her ever-silly husband Jason came up with, and it's too good not to share.

The kids were not into eating their dinner, so Jason grabbed a coin out of his pocket and made a game "Heads; 1 bite, Tails; 2 bites" the kids totally did it - and when they started to lose interest he had one of them call it and whoever won took 1 bite and whoever lost took 2 bites. I love how creative he is with the everyday struggles. You're the best Jason! I am so glad God made us partners in raising our children. Oh! and did I mention he let me leave for the last 1/2 of the game so I could go tanning. Seriously love the man!

i could see this working in a lot of whiny situations, as long as it's not overused. put on jacket or coat first? go for a walk or blow bubbles in the backyard? let mommy go tanning or send mommy off to her room with her book club book...? oh, wait...

photo credit: "Uncertainty" by Nicu Buculei via Flickr

The Responsibilities of Chores

by Jes

Really, I don’t blame the whining, complaining and the notion that chores are boring, because, well … I feel the same way. If given the option to read a good book, garden or have writing time, I would choose one of those over emptying the dishwasher, folding laundry or sweeping the floor any day, bar none.

As grown-ups we have learned the virtue of you do something because it is the right thing to do, not because you want to. After all, the dishes don’t do themselves and neither does the laundry. Recently I watched Disney’s “Sword in the Stone” and Merlin frees Wart (or Arthur) from his chores by using magic to make the cleaning tools come to life, and Wart complains that Merlin is taking away his responsibilities. He complained! That got my attention faster than the magical mop cleaning up the room (which is pretty cool, I need to get me one of those). Props to old-school Disney for a positive message!

Taking a lesson from young King Arthur, I decided it was time to stop looking at housework and honey-do lists as chores and view them as responsibilities. I have zero intention of doing a political correctness spin on an old-fashioned notion, but I wonder if changing the word made all the difference? So I tried it and there is actually a change in perception – not only did I feel more empowered but so did my children.

I have a rule in my house (that existed before the “responsibility” experiment) that we clean things up regardless of who makes the mess. I do the dishes even though I did not dirty them all, I do the laundry even though I did not wear all the clothes, I sweep the floor even though I did not put all the crumbs on the floor. So if I ask a child to clean up the living room, I mean everything, not just what they played with. We make messes together as a family, therefore, we clean up together as a family.

With this notion in mind, I decided to use the word “responsibilities” as well as issue some specific ones per child per week on a rotating schedule for extra oomph. I made a simple responsibilities list and clothes pins with their names on it to mark who does what. They pick out their extra responsibilities each Sunday and then the game is on! They love it! My oldest actually asked for one more responsibility to distinguish him from the younger two as he is the oldest. I could cry, I was speechless and my mother’s heart was overflowing with all sorts of parental pride.

Now, the whining and complaining was not gone. It was minimized, but not completely gone. But there are tricks a mom can use to turn whining into laughter. On hard-to-motivate days, make it a game. Here are a few games we enjoy as a family:

1Beat the clock. I set a timer for 20 minutes and we race against the clock to see how much we can get done – the reward is a scoop of ice cream. If we get it all done in the 20 minutes, then we get some whipped cream on top. So, the fun bonding reward is there no matter what and then there is a bonus reward for beating the clock. If it isn't done on time, just say, “next time we’ll beat that pesky clock and get whipped cream!” Make it silly!

2 Freeze-dance cleaning sessions. Turn on some fun music and every so often pause it, turning everyone into statues. When the music begins again, everyone starts cleaning! To be extra silly, make comments about the statues: “Look at Myles, his arm extended beautifully as he works hard to destroy the dust collection on the TV!” This not only acknowledges what they are doing, but humor breaks up the chore-day grumpies.

3Change of pace. Take turns deciding how things will be cleaned up; for example, we’ll move fast, slow, tip-toe, like a ballerina, or like a puppy dog (warning with this one, puppy dogs can magically use their paws to prevent the use of a mouth to pick up everything. Learned that one the hard way!).

How does your family approach chores … ahem … responsibilities? Do you play any games to make it more fun?



attribution: the photo for this post comes from ThreeIfByBike.

lines to use when you're crossing the line

i am so far from being the perfect parent. my default responses are to complain and blow up. when my kids most need a calm, controlled, routine-oriented adult is when, of course, it's hardest for me to deliver. many times, i fail miserably. despite my best non-swear word efforts, my 2-year-old is likely learning some of the real ones.

but then there are the times when i am able to pull it together in the moment – to not blow up at The No Factory in front of me, to not throw the fork across the room when i've just asked my children to refrain from the same thing, to not use a four-letter word when a goofy face would work so much better for everyone.

there are some key lines that others have passed on to me that raise the likelihood i'll find success in those moments:

"it's a season in life" my sister-in-law gave me this one. it's a powerful perspective-giver. i've found that even when the young one is kicking and crying, this line gives me the compassion i need to see her as my hurting toddler and not a mini-me out to get mom.

"i'm feeling very grateful today" this one comes from a blogging momma i admire over at Creative With Kids, who uses this now in response to the question of "how are you doing?" it gets rid of the first reaction (mine: "i'm going insane, thank you") by reminding yourself of the truth.

"get down on kid level" this is a good physical response to use that comes from a tip from A Mom With A Lesson Plan. sometimes i think back to a mad moment, and realize what i must have looked like to my child – a towering madwoman glaring down at her little girl. my daughter is not my enemy! but i sure am making her feel like it. i find that when i get down on the floor with my kids – even below their eye level, so they're the ones looking down at me – i gain better perspective on the situation. most times, things end in a hug when i do this. (and that makes me and them feel better!)

"good enough!" i gave myself this one. i'm a recovering workaholic perfectionist. and i'm slowly starting to really believe that "good enough" is "good enough" and not just another word for failure. perfection is not only impossible, it's downright damaging. if i say these words out loud, i'm telling myself to lower my standards – leave the dirty dishes in the sink (they've already been there 24 hours anyway) and sit down and read a book with the girls.

"i'm sorry" finally, this one comes from my Dad, who was always a great model of what to do when you do screw up. i get down to my kid's level or sit down with them, go over what happened ("i got really angry, didn't i?"), apologize and then share a hug. the fruits of this have already been shown when both my girls on different occasions have volunteered their own "i'm sorry" apologies without prompting.

maybe i'm not such a screw-up after all, right?

The Myth Behind Parent-Child Negotiations

by Jes

It starts out innocent. You put your child to bed and they suddenly have to go to the bathroom … again. Or they have a thirst like any other thirst they have ever experienced before and MUST have water or else they’ll fall to the floor in a puddle. Your child receives a plate of food with reasonable and healthy portions. They ask how many bites they must eat to receive a treat, or to be excused from the table. You ask them to help with a responsibility (like fold towels) and instantaneously they are hungry.

As they grow older the negotiations become more mature and at times pre-meditated. Your child is suddenly sweet, extra snuggly, being strangely compliant about everything. This is their first mistake because as a parent you weren’t born yesterday. Although you believe your child is an angel capable of loving, kind and respectful behavior, you also know their limitations. So what gives? They want something and they are buttering you up before asking and setting in place evidence for negotiation. “Mom, I did all you asked" …or … "Mom, I was really good today" ... "Why can’t I -- spend the night at Susie’s house? ... have more video game time? ... stay up 30 minutes later?”

At what point does a parent enter into negotiations, and when it is wrong for a child to negotiate?

As a parent I have learned it is critical to have clear expectations in place. For example, bed time is promptly at 9 p.m., so they need to take care of all their needs and potential needs before then. If they feel they may be thirsty after being tucked in, they need to prepare a glass of water just in case. If they wish to stay up, they need to discuss this with me ahead of time, not while preparing for bed. That is the wrong time to enter into negotiations as it sets a precedent that your clear expectations are really grey matter. When a child begins this negotiation with me I say, “Great question, ask me tomorrow and we’ll plan a day where you can stay up 30 minutes later, but not tonight. Bedtime is at 9 p.m.”

I usually receive whining, and last-ditch efforts to try and persuade me but I try as much as possible to stay the course (yes, sometimes they win me over, and they celebrate when they do … I do have my soft moments). Why stay the course? It is the wrong time to enter into negotiations, not that negotiations are wrong. There is a myth that children who negotiate are always manipulative and disrespectful of the rules. It is fabulous when children are able to plan and prepare an argument to make something happen, but it is unfortunate when they are allowed to manipulate as that undermines the value of respect.

Continuing with the example, to give in right before bedtime consistently (not occasionally) teaches them they can manipulate, that there are no boundaries and reasonable expectations. To request a meeting and a discussion at an appropriate time teaches them life skills they can take into other relationships and into their future workplace. It teaches respect.

I am not suggesting you turn into a tyrant and refuse water or bathroom visitations after lights have been turned off, but that you remind your children to care for their needs before the final bedtime routine. If necessary post a list in their bedroom or bathroom (words and/or with pictures) of all that is expected of them to do prior to lights out, ensuring a higher rate of success … and if nothing else, it puts the power of negotiations without argument back into your court. “Oh? Well, let’s take a look at the bedtime list. I’m sorry you forgot your water. Go back to bed and I’ll bring you a glass as you should be in bed now.” Or, “If you need to use the restroom there is no need to visit me and announce it, we can spend time together tomorrow, just go and then return straight to bed.”

What are some examples of clear expectations in your home? Do your children try to negotiate? How
are negotiations handled in your home? I would love to hear all about it! Other parents, too, it helps us
all learn from each other.



photo credit: "glass of water" by followtheseinstructions, via Flickr

Tweenkling Insights: Part Two

by Jes

I guess my son felt the glare, the vocal scoff and the response through clenched teeth were not enough “signs” for me to gather that he was mad. To further drive home the point, he had to march up the stairs with pounding feet, kick a toy in his path followed by slamming his door shut forcefully. His brother came in their shared room to get something, an innocent victim in this war, completely oblivious to the “signs”. The next thing I hear is my younger son protesting while my older son is screaming orders, the door opening and my younger son being thrown out. My older son had turned his small frame instantly into the strength of a club bouncer. My younger son was now fully aware of the “signs” and was ready to give his brother a few of his own. At this point, I pulled my younger son away before more damage ensued.

For those that know my oldest son, you know he is a shy, somewhat nervous person who enjoys a good laugh, a fun story and is endlessly curious about life. He is also compassionate, sensitive to others showing remarkable empathy at times, helpful, great with small children (so patient and kind when playing with them), and he loves to read. But lately, those beautiful attributes morph into a green monster ripping his clothes off when suddenly angry. In fact, my son claims when he gets mad it is like he Hulk outs and can’t control himself. This makes his self-worth plummet.

In the day of psychology, mass media fear of young adults and school shootings, the last phrase “can’t control myself” was a terrifying confession for me to hear as a parent. Cue husband – oldest of four boys, quite rascally and mischievous, grew up making his mom believe he was a perfect angel, all the while raising hell when she wasn’t looking. It was this boyish charm that lured me in at age 15 ;-) As my maternal fears began to climb to irrational levels, my husband waltzes in and says, “that is what boys this age do” as if that explains everything.

Yet, somehow it did. Or at least, it gave me pause. “They do?” I asked back, clearly perplexed as I come from the “civilized” gender (wink! wink!). He then goes on to explain that when he was around our son’s age, he got into a lot of fights. Most boys did. The testosterone kicks in, turning little boys into men, and they leave childhood fighting.

Being an old-school parent in many ways, I suddenly realized why parents way-back-then sent their boys to the chopping block around this age and through their teenage years. They needed to burn off some steam and learn to be constructive with it in a way that benefited the home or community and to control their impulses. With flat screens replacing active play time more and more in our culture, less tweens and teens are actively doing something about their changing body in ways that help.

I resent being a referee, and throwing a flag for unnecessary roughness is not my idea of a good time. However, I have fantasized about getting a whistle and cutting out some fabric to use for a quick reaction and attention grabber … not to mention a visual representation of how a line was crossed. Wouldn’t it be fantastic if all you had to do was blow a whistle, drop a brightly colored square on the floor and your brawling boys knew there was a 10-yard penalty and instantly went into separate rooms to calm down?

OK, so back to reality. What is a parent to do with a tween boy who is raging with testosterone? I don’t have a chopping block, but I do have dirty floors, laundry that needs to be carried up and down the stairs, toilets that need cleaning, dishes to be put away and so forth. And he has a father to battle in arm wrestling, practice throwing around punches and to have a Nerf gun war.

I have also learned it is a time for more structure despite the push for independence. With freedom comes great responsibility. Knowing expectations and being able to see results and the ability to check off tween honey-do lists boosts their confidence and keeps them connected. Make them a part of the process. Allow them to herald it is family meeting time to discuss the agenda for the day, the next couple of days, the week. Let them help you with the family calendar. When you discuss things, ask them what they think. You’ll be amazed at their intelligent response. It is also a great time to expand their horizons and find ways for them to give back to the community – whether it is their neighborhood, their school, church or even their city. Keep it local so you can be more easily involved, also maintaining connection. Will they resent the idea? Most likely, but once they start helping out they’ll enjoy it, even if they don’t let you know they have.

How do you help your tween or early teen deal with their anger? Their need to physically react to the emotions they suddenly feel? To feel in control despite developmental changes they can’t control?

How can we help them feel constructive and valuable, rather than shame and our disappointment for the hormonal changes taking over their bodies and mind?

Please share your ideas and comments! I would love to hear them (and so would other parents of tweens).



photo credit: "Lego Hulk Smash," by Fantaz via Flickr

Tweenkling Insights: Part One

by Jes

My oldest boy has been replaced by an awkward young male trying to figure out if he is a child or a young man, sometimes exploding in an emotional display that I would qualify as both – asserting his independence with both verbal finesse and preschool-like tantrums. Yes, I have a tween. For those who have (or have had) a tween, you know exactly what I am talking about. As a parent you feel the excitement of brewing independence only to realize it is coupled with sassy backtalk as a means to assert said independence.

One day he was playing and the next, he wanted a cellphone, his own personal computer, wanted to know how old he had to be to have his own Facebook account, and if he could do additional chores for money to buy his own things. He then began checking the mirror looking for facial hair, which I found very amusing but of course, kept the conversation at the level of seriousness he desired.

I must admit, I went through a whole month of total shock and denial followed by another whole month of sharpening my tools as a parent. I now declare back with equal energy, "Game on!”

Similar to a preschooler, those ages 9-12 may throw a tantrum to express their independence. However, unlike a preschooler, tweens are quite articulate, forming reasonable arguments and can have intimidating responses to “no,” not to mention their social needs are intense. Oh, did I mention their social needs are intense? They want get-togethers with friends every second of every day! My life is consumed with talking about friend-time, thinking about friend-time, planning friend-time … and video games, and wanting to know when we can have pizza again for dinner. (Their appetite is remarkable, especially if you have a boy!)

I will never forget the moment I snapped out of denial, it was a lovely Fall afternoon when my rule-following, compliant, always easy-mannered son yelled at me from the top of the stairs that I was ruining his life (his exact words), followed by a very impressive eye roll, and then a glare that instantly made my superhero-strength mom armor activate.

My first response? Anger. Pure, outraged, don’t-you-dare-disrespect-me fueled anger. We stared at each other for a few minutes, challenging each other silently while steam came out of our ears. Miraculously, my brain returned to me before I spoke, enough pressure had been released (thank you steam ears), and I realized that I needed to break the tension or he would not hear anything I had to say and it would perpetuate the problem. So, I decided to go along with this fantasy of his, hoping to stimulate his intellect into realizing the absurdity of his words.

“Well, I’m glad you finally figured it out. Each day I wake up, grab a cup of coffee and say to myself, 'How can I ruin my son’s life today?'” I watched the anger begin to dissipate. “We have a game, you and I. My role is to ruin your life (for which you’ll thank me for one day); and your daily quest is to figure out my master plan. What say you? Do we have a game?” He was trying desperately not to laugh at this moment. I stuck out my hand and he took it, shaking it in agreement.

Now when he displays his displeasure at my response and decision, I say with glee, “You did it! You figured out how I wanted to ruin your life today! You are so good at this game. I will need to come up with something really difficult tomorrow.”

This always turns a moment that could go wrong in so many ways into laughter. Inserting humor does wonders to a temperamental tween, I am learning. There are two proverbs that sum this up well: “A kind word turns away wrath”, and, “Laughter does the heart good like medicine.”

If you have or have had a tween – we need your ideas.

How do you help curb attitude without breaking their spirit?



photo attribution: "Fight," by Philippe Put via Flickr

word of the month: magnanimous

my youngest is potty training. which means i'm working extra hard on my positive reinforcement skills. that is, if i ever get to use them.

let's just say, i'm having better luck with the 5-year-old.

Sweet One is a fan of Fancy Nancy, an endearing book character who has taught my daughter more than one fancy word (plume is now her primary term for feather). and Fancy Nancy is teaching me a trick or two as well.

we've reached the stage of sibling spats. the youngest is old enough to interfere with the oldest's sense of personal space. they both have, shall we say, confident personalities. when Sweet One does the mature thing (especially for a kindergartner) and shares a favorite toy with her sister when it's appropriate, i try to heap praise. it works. however, it works ever so much better with a fancy bit of praise.

"how magnanimous!"

fancy and grown-up, two things a cute li'l princess can't resist. i can see the effect. she stands up a bit straighter. she's thinking about the word, not knowing it but understanding it at the same time.

now. if i could find a similarly fancy magic bullet to get the Li'l Miss to sit her cute tushy on a potty seat...



background image of Scuffed Tiles is via Flickr. the Fancy Nancy text above is an affiliate link to the books on Amazon.

There’s a New Sheriff in Town

Stick 'em up! It's a guest post from Jes...

Who's the real law in this town, anyway?

When the house grows from one child to two children and perhaps more, eventually someone receives the highly coveted bossy boots. For most homes, the boots typically go the oldest child, a natural fit given their birth order. In our home, this has certainly been true until recently. The youngest is sure giving child number one a run for his money.

Hi, My Name is Mt. Momsuvious

it's PMS WEEK here at silly = sane. today, we share a laugh with Jes, whose thoughts on patience are applicable to every day of the month! ... also, quick apologies for the tardiness of recent posts. i am currently without home computer. now, on with the words...

I think Pat Benatar has it right when she wails love is a battlefield. If we are not declaring “for the love of Pete” in exasperation over one more crazy thing – like telling our child for the sixth time to get their shoes on – then we are urgently trying to channel the saintly love of Mother Teresa to remind us that our children are worthy of our humanitarian support.

There is that moment, though, when a volcano explodes inside your brain and you think, “I can’t take this anymore,” sending your normal down-to-earth, easy-going demeanor into a fit of screams that would intimidate a drill sergeant. The children instantly do exactly what you’ve been trying to get them to do, all along causing another rush of rage in its wake. Seriously, is it not infuriating when you get to the point of yelling that your children finally listen?

I know the experts say the key to effective parenting is to remain calm. but when Mother Teresa fails to inspire our help and compassion, we need to find another solution. Otherwise, we may find ourselves in an anger management support group one day saying, “Hi, my name is Mt. Momsuvious.”

Recently I heard my boys’ teacher explain that when adults often lose patience with their children, they have lost understanding. I have contemplated that single sentence for a few weeks now and it has inspired me to stop and observe the dynamics rather than react to them.

I watched my children for a few days and noted my trigger points and then I asked myself, is this a control issue or is there a real roadblock to success? My findings were rather sad. Most of my trigger points are organizational and approach issues that are ALL on me! Not a defeatist by nature, I decided it was time for positive change.

For example, morning routines had become an issue with all three children in school and I found the biggest hurdle were the final moments of getting out the door to seat belts fastened, and it all revolved around transition from free time to “go” time. Now if my children want time in the morning to play or even watch a TV show (if time allows) before they jump in the van, they must have eaten breakfast, brushed their teeth and hair, gotten dressed complete with shoes and jackets on and placed their lunch snacks in their bags. Once everyone in the house has reached this goal (great way for natural peer pressure to stay on track), then there is time for open play or a cartoon. Getting into the van is no longer a stressful event. They are ready to go! No transition from play/cartoon to putting on shoes and jackets followed by stress affecting their ability to get into the van.

I encourage you to think about pressure points in your home that cause your normally peaceful
personality to explode and what you have done to gain understanding… and do share! Tips from fellow parents are a constant source of inspiration and encouragement! Your idea and solution may be exactly what another parent needs.



want to read more quality writing on momma rage? head on over to Creative With Kids, where Alissa has been keeping up an immensely helpful series on parental anger. my favorite post is Evolution of a Mama Tantrum - and How to STOP One.
credit love: the photos making up our Mt. Momsuvious image come from the public domain and "The Look" by Trinity, both via Flickr.

what the hell is pms anyway?

it's PMS WEEK here at silly = sane, but what exactly does that mean?

the acronym is for "pre-menstrual syndrome," as i'm sure you already know. but i'm going to re-define that as "pre-menstural symptoms." that word "syndrome" bugs me. it implies i'm somehow abnormal or have a disease. dude, my body is just getting ready to dump some unused eggs and give that fat ol' uterine lining a natural lipo, ok? that said, the effects of those working biological gears are pretty real... and pretty amazing, if you think about it.

that is, when i'm not scared out of my skinny jeans by what the hell my body is doing.

what you feel leading up to "that time of the month" may be different than for me. maybe for you it's just a craving for salt and an annoying whitehead, while for me it also brings real concern that my subcutaneous tissue is about to trade places with my epidermis. in fact, there are upwards of 150 symptoms associated with PMS, which basically renders the medical term useless as a medical term. a recent "controversial" research review took a critical look at the actual studies out there concerning PMS. it found there wasn't enough good research to definitively say PMS affects anyone with a uterus, and what good studies were out there (sample size and methodology and all that jazz) gave conflicting results. (find a Cliff's Notes version here.) it's a good reality check; we can't write off every bad mood as "oh, it's just PMS" (lame). i do think it reflects this inane and insane propensity to medicalize every nut and bolt of a woman's life, especially when it comes to the biology of poppin' out bay-bez. but, all that said, for me and most other moms i know, PMS is certainly not overblown. and while we shouldn't feel like we're inherently horrible for having estrogen, we also shouldn't let it be an excuse to spit obscenities at our loved ones.

so... here are some pointers for making a very real hurdle easier to clear:

• planning   it's called a cycle for a reason. there's a measure of predictability here that can work in our favor. if you don't already, map your moods and mark the days so you can find your own pattern and have a better idea of what's coming down the road. which leads us to...
• period   knowing what your body is doing, and why, makes it easier to handle the changes that come with that cycle – good (libido), bad (depression) or inconsequential (the zit will eventually go away). go back to sex ed if you need to with a Google search. which leads us to...
• perspective   as with colic and potty training, "this too shall pass." knowing that the negative stuff is temporary makes it easier to work through the tough emotions. and maybe even laugh in the midst of the worst days... and maybe not.

if you have daughters, use these times as teaching moments too. it's still going to shock her when it all starts going down. but there are some foundational things we can do now for our girls. i've got quite a few years yet before my girls hit puberty (something i'm thankful for... and my husband even more so). so you moms and dads with girls who have "entered womanhood" need to chime in here. but here are some things i think we can help our young girls learn to do now that will help them later:

• put words to their feelings
• pay attention to what their body is telling them
• be confident about who they are

as parents we need to get rid of this veil of shame that seems to surround lady parts. it's not "down there." it's a vagina. (come on, you can say it!) and yes, there was blood in the toilet after mommy went potty. but it's normal and shows my body is working as designed. (and, yes, it is yucky, too.)

what do you think? what does PMS mean to you? what are the toughest symptoms you deal with? what helps you get through that phase of the cycle? did things get worse after having children? what about you moms of boys? what do you tell your future men?



credit where credit is due: the red background for the title image comes courtesy Patrick Hoesly via Flickr.

alert! alert! the DEFCON mommy warning system

to start us off with PMS WEEK here at silly = sane, i've pilfered an idea from the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Department of Homeland Security. why? because if you're like our family, the home comes near to a war zone about once a month. and even if it's not "that time of the month," let's face it – parenting young kids can get yer dander up (incidentally, there will be more on old sayings such as "yer dander" later this week).

sometimes children (ok, and husbands) can be a little oblivious to what we feel certain is perfectly obvious: that our insides are starting to flip onto our outsides. but while our skin may feel like it's crawling, we do in fact look perfectly normal. we have not changed color. so there is a bit of help we need to give our families to help them recognize the warning signs.

one warning i've turned to a lot with my 5-year-old is the mental image of a thermometer brought to the bursting point. "i'm HERE, Sweet One," i say, holding my hand at the crown of my head. it's not above my head yet, but i'm close to falling off the deep end, so this warning tells my kids to dial down the whining and dial up the "ok, Mom" niceties. and of course, there's always the "hi, welcome home – i'm leaving" response to The Spouse when he gets home from his outside-the-home work. (how's that for obvious?)

another successful strategy for our family has been to create a Google calendar (color-coded red of course) to track the expected arrival of the topic at hand so as to anticipate when Crazy Momma might be in the house. this helps lay the groundwork for a defensive response. PMS is a nice enemy to have in that it's somewhat predictable. but that doesn't mean there won't be surprises. it wouldn't be much of an enemy otherwise. so it's good to be ready for battle at a moment's notice.

the key here is not to see yourself or your biology as the enemy. the only enemy is hormonal havoc – when things go too far. and for that, there are various conditions of defensive readiness:

DEFCON 5: normal peacetime readiness

the risk of hormonal havoc is low. life continues on its normal track. the kids are still going to whine and make you late getting them to school or music class. but that's standard operating procedure. expectations of duty and respect always apply. but spilled milk is not worth crying over (yet).

DEFCON 4: normal, increased intelligence and strengthened security measures 

the risk of hormonal havoc is guarded. there's a marked increase in sigh-and-mumbling chatter. but there's no real cause for concern yet. throw in an extra thank-you and hug and you're good.

DEFCON 3: increase in force readiness above normal readiness 

the risk of hormonal havoc is elevated. vacuuming takes on unusual importance. clumsiness increases. preparatory actions are taken: diaper bag is packed and ready for mobilization. pizza delivery is put on speed-dial. messes are quickly cleaned. coffee is hand-delivered.

DEFCON 2: further increase in force readiness, but less than maximum readiness

the risk of hormonal havoc is high. in fact, it's probably happening. we are in the red zone and deploying evasive maneuvers. meals come out of a bag or box. coffee comes from the hand of a barista. four walls are avoided with frequent errands and outings. children's screen time sees a marked uptick.

DEFCON 1: maximum force readiness

the risk of hormonal havoc is severe. if you've reached this defensive readiness condition, it's already too late. all that remains is to address the fallout. take the children and run. (but hand mommy that cup of coffee before you do.)

we routinely reach DEFCON 2 and have been able to strategize effectively to neutralize the threat most times. charting the movements of the enemy helps. but we are no strangers to DEFCON 1. then it's just all about escape and waiting for the storm to pass. because it always does. and that's a key part of the strategy, too: perspective. it means showing your kids that mommy's silly face always comes back, and there's never a bad time for a hug.

what about you? do you face the same battle? what strategies have worked for your families? what's in your anti-insanity arsenal?

Zombie Children in the Boredom Apocalypse

we wish you a very happy, sugar-charged (and, of course, silly) Halloween with our first guest post from Jes to the silly = sane blog. read and enjoy... and watch out for the vacant stare...

“Mom, I’m bored” is probably the scariest phrase I hear all day. On the outside it may not seem very frightening, but what happens to a child when they have entered the boredom zone is the stuff of horror films.

My usually imaginative, witty and active child literally turns into a mindless zombie. All thought, reasoning and feeling has fled their bodies and I am left with an uncooperative empty shell of kid who doesn’t even have the muscle strength to stand up and walk away from a couch. Instead, they usually roll off the couch with a sigh of exasperation followed by a whine that makes the nerves in my ear drum turn bionic, amplifying all negative thoughts and feelings all around me.

I am now properly set on edge and ready to do battle.

abort, abort!

uh, ground control? we've got a problem. minor flesh wound to cadet no. 1 on upper deck. stranded cadet no. 2 in lavatory, one level below. captain is in the middle, engaged in mortal combat with invading force that is slipping in through a crack in hold, threatening to destroy critical systems. (die, alien arachnid! you stand no chance against my paper towel roll of DOOM!) repeated requests for backup by cadet no. 1 are gaining in intensity. cadet no. 2 is falling out of contact; radio silence could indicate secondary mop-up mission. status briefing made clear to cadet no. 1 that captain is otherwise engaged. space dementia may be settling in...

you can't blame the children. they lack a fundamental awareness of the space-time continuum (namely, that there is one). when no one is bleeding (much) and there is no (real) crisis, the best tactic to reeling in young emotions that threaten to hurtle off into outer orbit is the diversionary tactic.

new feature: lines to use on your kids

remember Super Sillypants? well, i've got some more silly lines to use on young children who seem predisposed to being oblivious to the obvious. introducing silly sanisms. is that a word? sanism? no. do you care? no. you just spent all night nursing a fussy infant, "waking up" to make the kindergartner a semi-healthy school snack (hey, the Goldfish are whole grain), and somewhere in there managing to actually brush your hair and look half-way presentable (dude, i totally put on clean jeans today!).

the first silly sanism i would like to present for your use answers the onslaught of requests that grow exponentially with (a) each additional child in your brood and (b) the number of nanoseconds from the first query to your response.

summer bucket lists: surprise edition

seems like everyone these days is doing the summer bucket list thing. there are good reasons to pick up on the trend. for one thing, the kids love it. summer also is a special time where, even amid pesky work obligations and juggling the new schedules, there's a feeling of giddy nostalgia. school's out! i'm free! well, sort of. to wit, i'm on board with Dumb Mom who finds that having a plan is definitely better than no plan (which, as she puts it, is a sure-fire way to drive a person "bat-crap crazy").

there are several ways to approach the summer bucket list. you could simply make a list, and check it off as you go. you could do the same thing, but use an actual bucket. you could invoke your inner Kinko's and create fancy labels. you could come up with a bucket for each member of the family and do it crafty style. you can color-code by the length of time an activity takes or by the type of activity, a popular method. or take things to a whole new level and make it a game.

me, i'm a procrastinator. i'm also of the "good enough" parenting philosophy. do the kids get a kick out of it? then why go to the extra effort of making it an ode to Martha Stewart? bleck. so with no further ado, here's our version: the summer bucket surprise! (we actually don't call it that. but this is a blog. and blogs give things names. so there we are.)

Capt. Obvious vs. Super Sillypants

"The superhero in me
is tired" by Brett Jordan

"what are you doing, Mom?" she asks.

i am putting Mickey Mouse chicken nuggets in the microwave to cook for lunch. again. by this point, it should be pretty apparent what Mom is doing – to the 1 1/2-year-old much less the 5-year-old asking the question. in previous days, i would answer her with the same. but today, with an "you've got to be kidding me" pause before slapping the microwave door shut, i decide i'm tired of playing Capt. Obvious to Ms. Rhetorical Q. Princess.

"i'm making cardboard."

there's a pause while she searches my face to see if i'm for real. then her face lights up with the joke. "hee hee hee! that's silly, Mom." yes, yes it is. and so was your question, Obvious Girl!