Things I've Heard and Learned This Summer

10) No matter what you call them...lime...kiwi...honeydew...no one wants the green popcicles.

9) If they haven't had a sunburn at least once, they haven't been outside enough.

8) It is always meal time...unless you are serving green popcicles.

7) Four year old daughter turned to me in all seriousness after I finished fixing her ponytail on top, "Mom....Always Remember....Never poop in  your pants." 

6) Inhaling does not make the car get slimmer when your son is driving too close to a mailbox. Imaginary breaks don't work either.

5) Whenever you stop at a fresh produce stand, put half of what you want to buy back...you will be full before you can get to it.

4) Whenever you go to the library, put half of the books back, so you'll lose fewer.

3) Dinner on Pool day is funnel cake.  Anyone who objects can help themselves to the green popcicles.

2) You only get a bath on pool day if you ate a green popcicle.

1) Bringing Mom her laptop, a diet coke and a dish of ice cream is an effective bribe against me ever bringing up Summer Math books.  But in reality, you could just bring me a bottle of water and a lime popcicle, I've come to appreciate them...if only from repeated exposure.  As for the math books, it doesn't take much...(I don't like them either).

House Minority Whip

Attention children! 

There are four weeks left of summer.  If you have more than one book left to read, more than two weeks of math sheets to finish or more than one paper or project to complete, put down the comic, unplug the TV and stop viewing Dragonball Z and Phineas and Ferb on the computer.  Those 28 days will come quickly and there will be interruptions for things like hair cuts, school supplies, doctor's appointments, swimming, movies, little camping or vacation trips and baseball games. 

You do not want to miss out on going to the pool because you have to read Rebecca. 

You do not want to have to forgo the movies to finish a Charlotte's Web diorama.

The 12 pages of math may be possible to be finished in a 12 hour period but it will be a miserable 12 hours.  

I know I am Cassandra; I'm like the powerless minority opposition.  In many cases I speak the truth and no one listens because they value their own position more than anything forthcoming.  Even the ones who may follow my sage advice won't be actually grateful.  Top that with the fact that I hate nagging even if I know it's for their own good.

But I'm a Mom and so it's part of the job.  I have to make sure they do this.   However I know from years of experience and watching Congress, you put no stick without the carrot.   So here's today's get your homework done deal.  

"Finish two pages of math each and we're going to the pool for the evening.  Anyone who doesn't do two pages gets left behind and will have to endure an educational historical documentary." 

Tomorrow, we'll employ movie tickets; those staying behind get to sort socks.  I'll keep providing suitable bribes and less savory alternatives until the homework job is done; at which point I should be sufficiently experienced in graft enough to run for Congress. 

Wish someone would use this method with me to get the laundry and the paperwork done.  Where are my lobbyists?  Won't someone please try to buy my influence by doing the dishes? 

I'm Going to Have to Do This Ten Times?

My poor son has two choices for practicing driving; the little car --the Suburban, and the Mastodon, our 12 passenger van.   His course work was with Honda Civic that seated five.  As a result, there have been adjustments.   For example, his instructor said to pull halfway into the road, which if you do that with the van, you are all the way blocking.  So we've had to quarter the counsel he learned.   Breaking distance is the car length+seconds for your car's length, not the one in front of you.  It's a pain and an ongoing process for both of us.

I don't know if anyone else sucks in as if putting on tight jeans when their child hugs the curb and those mail boxes and trees look ever so closer than is comfortable; it's not like I'm going to make the van suck in and slenderize as it glides by the curb anymore than I'm going to become skinnier by exhaling hard while sucking in my stomach.  The reality is he has to drive this tank and so he must maneuver this tank.  It still stinks.

To his credit, he's a very careful driver.  Far more disciplined than I was at 15.  (Yes 15, I am probably the single reason that experiment died so quickly in Texas but that's another story).

The idea of trying to carve out 60 hours of drive time for ten separate children all of whom have their own personality quirks which will be exaggerated by the addition of a 3-4 ton (this) vehicle makes me reconsider whether or not  we really want to own a car or have drivers period.  Walking regardless of the weather suddenly has new found appeal.  

Then one of my friends faced with her own teenage driver talked about buying a third car.  I know we had one when I was a teen.  I know it would make teaching driving easier, but there are realities which one knows, once one embraces, have permanent consequences.  Paying for college, having a baby, buying a house, these are all moments of definition that will shape everything that follows.  Buying a third car. This would be one of those rubicons. 

I thought about the expense.  I thought about insurance.  I thought about parking on our drive way and manuevering out.  I thought about how it takes a Herculean effort to get the vehicles we have now serviced and one of them gets those sorts of things for free!  As I consider the hassle versus benefits calculation of even thinking about the idea, my mind gropes for an escape hatch, for something, anything other than this.  I can only think of one bribe possibly sufficient.

Hey son!  You know how you always wanted a dog?

Shill Shell Game

The President is out shilling for his healthcare plan because after sixteen months of discussing it and multiple speeches and town meetings and countless articles, he needs to get people wee-weed up about passing this bill.

What he either does not understand or willingly ignores, is that most people would be amicable to the careful crafting of healthcare reform and even the full funding of Medicare, Medicaid and SCHIP; but this bill is so messy and intrusive and full of pork and backyard deals that cheering it for its original moral pure intent (if not now, when? What should I tell these people?) can only be the foaming at the mouth true believer or the cynical manipulator of the masses. (Actually, he'll have to tell them, the services won't be available until 2018 but that's a mere trifling detail).

The deals are endless and myriad and complex. President Obama says Insurance companies are evil because they work for a profit, and that government is good, even though it works for the accumulation of power. However, the President undermines his argument by giving those evil companies 330 billion dollar subsidy. Is he buying their complicit silence as he thumps them with one hand and lines their pockets with the other? It SEEMS like that would be the case. The brother of Representative Mathewson, an undecided, is nominated to the Court of Appeals; 10th circuit but there's no quid pro quo. Every undecided or No that the government thinks it can shave has suddenly won the Ben Nelson Mary Landrieu lottery if they just keep it under the table.

If this healthcare bill is so morally pure, such muddy messy total bribes shouldn't be necessary. If all of America is writing letters beseeching the leader of the free land with ceaseless weeping, rended garments and howls of pain, shouldn't this bill be a shoe-in? But the idiosyncratic tales of individuals who need actual help are being co-opted for political cover. Every letter the President holds up is in complete favor of his program. All these parallel stories are only unsubstantiated and coincidental. They prove we need reform and these people need help; they do not prove we need THIS bill.

When Planned Parenthood and Emily's list and tons of 100% NARAL approved politicians are the chief architects and cheerleaders of a program, one can't just believe that there aren't shenanigans about funding abortion taking place. When you can look at page 118 and 119 of the Senate Bill that the President is shilling, it's obvious. Abortions shall be funded by the Federal plan for those circumstances as determined by the Health and Human Services Secretary. You have to wonder why they even bother to lie so stupidly; but they want THIS bill and we're the mark they have to get to agree to buy into the game.

The part of the population that agrees with the current proposed policies by the Senate, House and Executive branch should not be puzzled that those who do not agree, suffer from a "deficit of trust," that could only be bridged by the willing suspension of disbelief. You can't triple the deficit and add a new massive entitlement program and claim that by adding taxes and cutting waste, you'll have a deficit neutral bill. Unless you pre-pad the deficit such that when you don't spend as astronomically in one area as you planned (say cutting the Moon project of NASA for example), the money you originally estimated to spend in that area is shell game switched to pay for healthcare then technically it is deficit neutral. The Queen of Hearts was palmed before the shuffle even began.

It's being done right now with the stimulus funds and the TARP money. It may be clever. It may be accurate. It's still a total sham and a lie, with money being pre-allocated for one need, held until the crisis abates and then funneled to the program of the politician's choice. It's just been preplanned as part of the con.

We've been the front money for the game. We will not win in this three card Monty. Our best bet is to walk away. It's the only way we won't lose anymore.

Pesky Facts and other Thoughts

Senator Ben Nelson feels that he has exacted enough pounds of flesh to pay for the pounds of flesh that will be lost in the process, and that the wink and nod he gives government accounting will satisfy his value system. Under the Nelson deal, 45 Million has been allocated over the first ten years for Medicaid and perpetual federal funding for the state of Nebraska's senior citizens and there will be 13 states in which federal funding underwrites abortions.

Comparing Mary Landrieau of Louisiana to Nebraska's senator Nelson is unfair, it is oranges to apples. Mary Landrieau's deal of 300 million for her state's poorest citizens may have cost more fiscally, but at least she didn't sell out morals. She never held the unborn dear in the first place. Nelson, like Adam, couldn't resist the apple.

Reid has the 60 votes to bring the bill to the floor, avoid a filibuster and get the damnable piece of legislation into reconciliation with the house version so that the President can brag of establishing health care. But let's talk about those pesky things; facts.

What the bill doesn't do:
It doesn't lower the deficit. CBO estimates the cost at 2.5 Trillion over the next ten years and I'd add, when has the Government ever come in UNDER budget?
It doesn't fix Medicare (it cuts 470 billion from that program).
It doesn't provide care for the uninsured immediately --it will tax immediately, but the full benefits won't go into effect until 2014.
It isn't fully transparent because it still isn't finished being put together.
It doesn't safeguard the concerns of those who do not want to fund abortions.

What it does do:

It will demand that people and businesses buy coverage or suffer fines.

It will increase premiums (CBO estimates GNP allocations to health care expenses will increase 17 to 24 percent over the next ten years as a result).

It will cover abortions through a wink and a nod of allowing states to opt out and having a monthly premium fee of segregated money used to address this service. 45 million may constitute a fig leaf for Senator Nelson, but for most moral thinkers, dead is still dead and so if you oppose abortion, you don't really care if the abortions are done in Texas or New York, you care that they are done period. You care that your tax dollars pay for an immoral inherently evil act.

It will ration care by adding a layer of bureaucracy.

It will ration care by eventually eliminating much of the private sector. Private schools do compete with public schools but when the economy is tight, guess which ones are suffering?

It will encourage doctors who can retire to do so, rather than be paid less for the same services they provide now.

It will create a whole new segment of government that no one will have read or know much about other than that it costs tons of money and eventually, all of us will pay.

But when things are darkest, we must be lights. Hearts aflame burn brightly.

Call your Senator. Call Congress. Write. Email. Jump up and Down. Speak out. Read. Stay informed and above all else, pray for the strengthening of will, the softening of hearts and true wisdom of the Holy Spirit. Charity towards the poor and the sick does not negate the need to champion the innocent and the helpless. Christ turned away no one and if we would be followers, neither should we.

This bill is many things. People who have argued against it have been called racists, separatists, tools of the insurance companies, uninformed, neanderthals, homophobic, selfish and unpatriotic and unchristian.

This bill is many things, but patriotic, fair, evenhanded, reasonable, good, thoughtful, sensible or helpful to the sick, poor and helpless, and just to all, it isn't. This bill is many things,Christian isn't one of them.

I'll Have a Banana Split

In this down economy, we no longer employ my favorite survival crutch, a maid service with the wonderful name, “Crisis Cleaners.” So now, I must cajole, bribe, entice and warn with a scary low calm voice, my children into keeping their rooms neat and the public areas of the house reasonably free of debris.

The following are provided as a public service to parents everywhere, methods of getting the under 18 crowd to clean up their acts, however temporary.

One Room at a Time Tornado: If I send each child to clean, they will scatter to the four corners of the house, knowing that as I work, I will only rarely come into contact with all of them, thus allowing whoever does not get caught in my peripheral vision to remain in relative obscurity and leisure. By corralling all the critters in a single room and declaring, “We’re not leaving this room until it is perfect.” and blocking the door, the room will sparkle. Some children may get roughed up by others in the process. That’s okay as long as they don’t make a mess of the carpet.

The down side: When they grow up, they will write about you.

One Task at a Time: This approach seems promising, with a Socialist, Each Task according to His/her Skill, appointment of duties. Gamers however soon discern that incompetency equals easier work. So despite the fact that my sons can enter cheat codes and create power points, text message without looking and create 1000 part Lego masterpieces, the operation of a dish washer, washing machine and the mop remain mysteries. For a time, we were at an impasse. However, as I now have the passwords to all the computers in our home, I now can conveniently “forget” how to log onto the machines until they remember how to operate a vacuum.

The One Task at a Time method works as long as tasks can be clearly delineated, but sometimes, the house needs an overhaul in cleanliness, which leads us to the next method of extracting a clean home, straight bribery.

We paid a professional to get the home clean on occasion. Now, we shall pay the amateur. Putting post-its on the rooms with the designated required tasks and the going rate does lead to competitive cleaning. As long as the dollars are cold hard cash and not checks, you can get a room that looks like it was cleaned by a kid for pennies on the dollar. The trouble is, they expect prompt payment and usually, the rooms require a professional (Mom), to go through and redo. The money pays for the illusory feeling of children obeying commands.

Beat the Clock: This works when they are three and you have a fist full of Hershey bar mini’s for the kids who help clean up in the next two minutes. I could tell you that I don’t use it because I worry about cavities or obesity or that my kids have gotten wise to this approach but the fact is, Hershey bars don’t last long in our house, and it’s not because of the children.

The one guaranteed method of getting the home House beautiful is to enlist the aid of my beloved spouse. If Dad is cleaning, then no child has a prayer of exonerating themselves or escaping the chore taskmaster me. We set the timer for one hour and everyone cleans. There are Windex bottles spraying windows, toilets being scrubbed, floors mopped and a vacuum humming everywhere. There are flourishes like children who put fresh flowers on the table or the enterprising nine year old who straightens the pantry and by the end of the sixty minutes, the house looks like civilized people might live here.

After an hour, everyone is exhausted and the idea of dirtying the sparkling kitchen with pots and pans seems a poor tribute to the children’s actual work. So we’ve added a bonus to Sunday One Hour Clean up rule. Dinner on Sunday is Sundaes, and we go out to get them. Now, I just have to figure out how I can manage my diet if we keep the house clean.

My Original Sin

Desperation leads to desperate actions. After multiple bribes, systems, threats, promises, nagging days dictated by the timer, pull ups and readings of all the annoying books about learning to go…in three weeks, my son turns four.

Up to this point, he had refused to become potty trained.

I am sure when he becomes an adult, if he is so inclined, he can write a tell all book about me. In it, he can detail my certifiable insanity. In my defense, it’s not like I haven’t put in my time.

But I admit it, this was a new low, even for me. I know this isn't Parent Magazine approved.

I told him he couldn’t turn four if he wasn’t potty trained.

I told him it was against the law to turn four and not be potty trained. They’d revoke the birthday license and confiscate the cake and everything.

My son has been wearing underwear ever since.


While I refuse to celebrate until we go two days accident free, a tiny part of me is jumping up and down mentally at merely the possibility of potty training finally taking hold. It has been 1445 days of diapers for this guy alone.

For the record, I also refuse to repent as long as it’s working.

I suspect at the very least, I've committed a venal.
Wonder what I could say to motivate his sister…

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