My Minis

I’m just going to face this one. I figure if I put it all out there I can move onto acceptance much faster. For years I’ve been hearing people say, “You’re kids are just like you!” I’ve always half heard this taking it like they look like me, which I see. But lately this observation made by the masses has taken on a different meaning. They are just like me. They take on every habit I have. Shit!

1.     Spanking-They love to spank every single person they come in contact with. And they think it’s hilarious. I tell them “No it’s not appropriate.” Then my boyfriend pointed out that I totally do this. Not with strangers, but still. Oy….

2.     The patented Beth “Errrr” sound- As in the short but effective “ERRR” I growl when I’m frustrated or annoyed. Smirker has this DOWN.

3.     “Let’s do this thing!”- It wasn’t until I noticed my kids say this every time we left the house that I realized I say this every time we leave the house. Huh. I really am predictable.

4.     Beer- I really like beer. It’s yummy. Every time I have one and Smirker is around, she tries to get it. She is obsessed. I don’t let her have it, but man she wants it!

5.     The “I’m going to start a project right before bed” thing- Love Monster has this tendency to want to start a major project about five minutes before bed. She has a burst of inspiration and must create NOW. “Mama! I’m going to make princess and dragon puppet show!” She has gathered all her art materials, and put two chairs together to be the stage and begins designing the set. Then it becomes a whole deal trying to get her into bed. I’m frustrated. She’s frustrated. I become the dream killer. Ahhhh! My inner self then reminds me, you do this daily. When I get inspired to do something, write something, organize something, I have to do it immediately or I go nuts.

6.     The walk protest- A zoo trip with the two girls. That sounds lovely right? I have the stroller, snacks, I am ready. And then Smirker pulls the “I’m just not gonna walk” card. She insists on my carrying her the WHOLE TIME. And if I put her down she wails. And it’s hot. Really damn hot. The day ends with them smiling and discussing how awesome the snow leopards were, but I am a sweaty, cranky mess. Jeez Smirker! Where do you get this from? Then I flash back to me in high school (Yes high school. I know. Embarrassing), on my family trip to Washington D.C. I practically chained myself to a bench by the Lincoln Memorial and refused to walk anymore. Yeah I did that. What a brat. Sorry Mom.

And I’m sure there are more habits I’ve passed on so let’s consider this part one.

Can you keep a secret? I sort of think all these things are cute. Sorta. In retrospect. They are my little minis! They really are little sponges. My smiles faded a little bit as I wrote that last sentence. We teach them everything. Weather we think about it or not. We do. Something to be aware of as parents. So yes I have to break some of these habits. But not the ERRR sound. That’s seriously adorable.  

Donna Day

Waking up this morning with my girlies snuggling next to me, I grabbed my phone to fix my blurry eyes on some facebook before I started my day. My newsfeed was filled with my mom blogger friends posting about Donna.

Today is Donna Day.

I couldn't take my eyes off of this beautiful face on my screen.

                                                                           Donna

Smiker and Love Monster opened their eyes and looked as well.

Smirker: Who that?

Me: That's Donna.

Smirker: I like the purple. Cover her owie?

Me: Yeah.

Love Monster: She looks so cool! I want her to come over and play.

Me: Love Monster, she can't.

And as if she somehow knew...

Love Monster: Mama, did she grow up?

Me (holding back tears): No babe.

Love Monster: Oh. (She knew what I meant)

Me: Let's try to help some kids like her today though.

Love Monster and Smirker: YES!!!


I fell in love with Donna about a year and half ago when I started reading Mary Tyler Mom's blog. Donna was her daughter. Donna died of an aggressive brain tumor in 2009 when she was 4 years old.  When I read Donna's story, so beautifully written by her mother, my life changed. Donna will forever hold a piece of my heart. Her story made me hold my girl a little tighter. Her story made me sad and angry that cancer robs kids of their childhood and in some cases their lives. Her story made me want to help this cause as much as possible.

So today is Donna day. Read her story. Check out St. Badrick's and consider helping in some way. Pediatric cancer needs the funding. If you live in Illinois, you can donate when you do your taxes.

Mary Tyler Mom and Dad also started Donna's Good Things to honor Donna and help kids with cancer find some good things.

Kids are not supposed to die. Of course you all know that. But after reading Donna's story, it made it personal. Kids are not supposed to die. Donna was not supposed to die.

Love to you Mary Tyler Mom. You are amazing. Thank you for sharing Donna's story.        

And if any of you don't follow Mary Tyler Mom on Facebook, do it! She is such a great positive force in this world and funny as hell.  (And she's a Chicagoan, so that makes her awesome.)

Thank You.

Love Monster’s kinder teachers are phenomenal. And LM worships them in her own six year old way (which usually means bringing them cool sticks she found on the way in and making them drawings of unicorns). I nearly break down in tears to see how much they love and support her. Seeing how amazing Love Monster’s teachers are got me thinking about my own. Two immediately came to mind. My sixth grade teacher and my theatre teacher in high school. I decided to track them down (I found them on linked in) and write them a letter of appreciation. Teachers do so much for you. They shape you. They believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself. And at the time we don’t appreciate it at all and least not in the way retrospect can give you. Below is one of the letters I wrote:

Dear Mrs. L,

 There are teachers you remember. 

You are one of those teachers for me.

 Fifth and sixth grade… wow that was not the best time for me confidence wise. I was awkward and unsure. And though I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time, you instilled confidence in me. And now decades later after high school and college and coming to LA in my twenties to be an actress, then getting married, having two kids, realizing my true dream is to become a children’s book author, publishing two epicture books, getting divorced… after all of that, I want to thank you for being one of the first outside my family to believe in me before I did.

*Side note I posted my sixth grade pic the other day to give you an idea...

 It’s been a long time since fifth and sixth grade! But I remember that time well. A few things stick out in particular. One, the poem. I remember the assignment. Write a poem describing something in detail without saying what it was. I did a poem about a rainbow and a pot of gold. I remember writing it with Sam and Ann. I felt so proud. My grandma even did a needlepoint of it! For some reason I didn’t remember that she made one for you as well. But when you mentioned you still had it when we touched base on LinkedIn, it gave me shivers. I still keep it by my desk. And it’s damn good I have to say! I use that poem when I do my author visits at elementary schools (doing those is a dream come true!). My writing career began in your classroom. When I discouraged, I look at it and the doubt floats away.

Another memory M.G. brought back to the forefront of my mind. Bridge to Terabithia! I remember acting scenes out with her during our reading time. Again, that nurtured the love of storytelling that I have.

 And (drumroll please) my favorite memory? The prize you gave to your students when they passed all of the times tables tests: getting to check out the cab of your husband’s semi-truck. Oh my gosh. The best prize ever. It was the best motivation to getting those nines (and math was NOT my forte). Everyone in class couldn’t wait. We worked hard on doing those timed tests. And the prize was not a let down. I remember that day well. It was so cool!

 But what I remember most is just you. Your warmth and wisdom and patience and support. 

 I wanted to write you to thank you. Thank you for being a teacher. Thank you for being my teacher. You made a difference.

  Take a second and appreciate the teachers that made a difference in your life. They are awesome!

Mother of Poop

That is me. Mother of Poop.

“Poopy Mama!” is their new favorite thing to call me.

And it’s not just me, pretty much anyone they know is called Poopy ________ (just fill in your name). They find this hilarious. And they love to make their stuffed animals poop and fart. Oy I thought girls weren't like this!

I was taking a shower the other day and my two naked girls burst in and joined me. “We love taking showers with you!” And Smirker pointed to my butt, ‘BOOTIE! POOP!” Sigh... Super funny ladies.

I am in a poop filled world and can’t escape it. But I embrace it. Bring it.

I wrote about Love Monster’s potty training so I only think it’s fair I write about Smirker’s. And it’s been entertaining. The day we began. I was ready. I took a deep breath. This will happen in it’s own time. Don’t rush her. Be patient. I told myself. I stripped her down to only a shirt. 

WEEEEEEE! This girl loves to be naked. I put out the potty and wait. Then Smirker disappears to her room for bit... hmmmmm. She comes out giggling. She points to her room and says “POOP!”

Awww man. She took a gigantic dump on her bedroom floor. Nearly as big as her head. For real. She reenacts it all day. Bearing down and laughing. “Poop!”

Love Monster is not thrilled. “I can’t believe Smirker pooped in my room,” she says forlornly. “And it was so big.”

The fact that Smirker pooped on the floor made me realize potty training might go well believe it or not. I’ve heard stories about how kids are afraid to poop in the potty. The floor is not that far off right? And I think she gets the whole potty thing! I explained it, demonstrated with her precious monkey and she retained it later! She totally got the whole peeing this right away!

The pooping... Not so much. Now that she is in daycare/preschool I put her in chonies (underwear for those of you who don’t know) for school and everyday I come home with a poop bag. Laundry day I have a whole pile of plastic bags with her name written on a piece of paper stapled on it.  Ugh. Gross. Then the Poo Clothes Incident happened.

It was a normal laundry day. Threw the clothes in the washer. Came back to switch to the dryer. I opened up the washer and... how do I describe this, it was like I put in poop scented soap.  What the hell. I search through the wet clothes and I find it. A perfectly laundered piece of poop. Horrified might describe how I was feeling. I forgot one of her damn poop bags and threw it into the washer. Poo clothes. Yummy! I had to rewash the clothes 3 times. I sniffed them obsessively. I shoved them in my boyfriend’s face. “Do you smell poop?? I think I smell poop. Smell it!” 

So this is where we are at. Since then there have been no more poop clothes incidents (thank God). She has pooped in the potty three times! And I throw a freaking parade every time. But that poop bag still comes home from school. Sigh... Smirker I know you can do it! Send out your poop prayers people. We need it.

There’s a Spoon in my Room and Other Bedtime Excuses

Children and bedtime. Ah yes that fun pairing. Man, just when you think you’ve gotten the hang of it there is another elephant crap sized obstacle that gets in your way. Like the fact that they can walk and talk.

When the girls were babies I was the queen of sleep-training. It was my mission. This was a major point of pride for me. I did the Babywise technique.  Yes I know. I’ve heard the criticism of this method. “It’s too strict and coldhearted! I can’t listen to my baby cry!” Whatever. Toughen up unless you want them to be your bedmate for years to come. (Not against family bed. But it is not for me.) I’m guessing most people who bitch about Babywise haven’t even read the book. It is not as harsh as rumored to be. Basically, you teach your baby to fall asleep on their own in their own bed. It’s great! And it works. The shit works. End of story. Okay enough of my “Babywise is not baby torture” rant. So I had two perfectly trained kids who slept through the night on their own solidly.

Awesome! My sleep-training job is DONE! I thought.

Ummm no. There is a whole other stage. And this time they can talk and move out of their room.

The list of excuses Love Monster has used to come out of her room and talk to me after bedtime have been quite entertaining:

1.     There’s a spoon in my room.

2.     Smirker put a band-aid on me.

3.     Smirker won’t stop saying cock-a-doodle-doo. (Yeah that would be annoying.)

4.     I forgot to say I love you.

5.     I can’t sleep. I’m too shy.

6.     And one more thing… (She has used this to preface numerous excuses…)

It began with each child right after I removed them from their nice safe, cell like crib and into their toddler bed. I could see the wonder in their eyes.  I could hear George Michael’s Freedom sound-tracking this moment and I did not like it. With Love Monster it was easier. There was no Smirker yet so from day one of the toddler bed we put a gate up at the door. Sure there were plenty of nights when LM would come to the door and pull a Stewie, “Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mommy! Mommy! Momma! Hi!” But the gate was there. She’d give up eventually and go to bed. Then she didn’t even open the door anymore. Again, take that sleep training!

But now. Now there is Smirker and sleep training has met her match.

I got this started off wrong. I will admit that. I put Smirker in her brand spanking new toddler bed and I did not put up the gate. I didn’t because of LM. I didn’t want Love Monster to feel trapped. What if she needed to go to the bathroom? But then when Smirker came of her room every five seconds for weeks on end I realized not using the gate was a mistake. So no biggie, let’s throw that gate up.

“NOOOOOOO GATE!!!!!” was Smirker’s response. And this was no, let her cry it out tantrum. She would scream this over and over try with all her little strength to rip or kick the gate down and then throw herself down on the ground crying in emotional pain. LM just looked at her like, “It’s a gate, man. Chill. Learn to co-exist with it. I did. And I want to sleep. Stop it.”

So the gate was OUT. But I couldn’t do this! She would come out of the room so much I didn’t know what to do. And her cuteness was seriously tough. First there her patented Smirker grin when she’d peek her head around the hallway corner. I’d walk her back into her room and lay her down and she’d cry softly, “Mama sit. Mama lay down. Please.” She’d bat her tear soaked eyelashes. For real.

Then not only did she have hard time going to bed, she began coming into my room around 2am, waking me up by whispering, “Surprise”, and crawling into bed with me. Here I made another mistake. I let her stay in my bed. I was tired. She’s pretty snuggly. Oy. I created a monster. Now she won’t leave my bed.

I made the decision to re-sleep train Smirker at three years of age.

I prepped. I read books and blogs about re- sleep training. The night of I drank a glass of wine. I mentally prepared that this would be tough and I wouldn’t get a lot of sleep. This is the key folks. I was ready. Bring it, Smirker.

I put the girls to bed at 8:20. LM fell asleep fast (school does this). Twenty-five minutes go by before Smirker got out of bed the first time. I was ready. (And my boyfriend had pen and paper in hand to do a tally). Smirker peeked out from around the hallway doorway. And I did what my research had told me to do. Calmly go up to her and walk her back into bed. And leave without a word. She fought it the first couple times. But then she got used to it. From 8:45 to 10:47 she came out of bed a total of 41 times. Each time she was further and further away from the living room. The last time she got up she just stood in her doorway. 10:47 and she finally gave up and fell asleep. Whew! It was tough but damn it I feel accomplished! She is my stubborn kid. But I won.

But I knew the night was not done.

“Surprise.” Her sweet little voice woke me up.

I looked at the clock. 3:45. I continued the method. Walk her to bed then leave. I put her back in bed 15 times. She (and I) finally went to sleep around 4:55.

And that did it. After that night. She didn’t get up. She may be stubborn, but I’m queen of stubborn.

Since then it’s been good. The girls do love to play before bed. I often hear them playing post office or The Amazing Café (the girls run a great coffee shop). And I’m good with that as long as they go to sleep in a reasonable time and stay in the damn room. And as long as LM doesn’t tie Smirker to the chair to force her to play tea party, which has happened. 

Unicorn Love

Love Monster loves unicorns. Like a lot. Like she wants to be one and simultaneously ride it at the same time. That phrase that is all over facebook?

 “Always be yourself. Unless you can be a unicorn. Then always be a unicorn.” 

Yep. Her mantra.

UNICORN LOVE! She’s gonna be one for Halloween. She has Rose, the stuffed unicorn that stays by her side as faithfully as her bear, Bees, she’s had since birth. She made a the fort below:

Unicorns are her obsession and I love it. Fantasy world is my favorite place to be. And one night Love Monster let me into hers. It rocks. Welcome...

“We live in Beautiful World. She lives in Bad World,” Love Monster said pointing down the dark hallway that leads to her and Smirker’s room.

Ahh I see. The “she” Love Monster is referring to is the Bad Unicorn.

“That,” Love Monster dramatically points to the clock mounted on the wall, “tells us when the bad unicorn is coming.”

“When-” I started.

“The 10,” was all she said.

Love Monster adjusted the paper horn we taped to the headband on her head. She gave Smirker a dirty look. “Sparkle! Come on!!!”

Smirker was not wearing the horn headband and was playing with Barbie instead. She did not care about her new role as Sparkle the Unicorn.

“Me! Me! I’ll be Sparkle!” I said way too excited. Love Monster bestowed me the headband and I began living my dream. 

Love Monster transformed me into a unicorn by pressing a plastic circle and square into my face. “I am transforming you with the power square and circle.” Why of course you are.

She lead me to a small fort made between the lazy boy and couch. “Now you can have a unicorn baby,” She said seriously. There in the unicorn nursery is Rose. Love Monster points to her tag. “That will tell you your babies name.”

“YOU DIRTY BEAST DUSTIES!” She screams. Yep I don’t know what that means either, but I think it’s some sort of war cry. We run to the dark hallway where Smirker sits staring at us. 

“It’s you,” Love Monster said now pointing a whiffle ball bat at Smirker. “It’s time,” She said to me.

Smirker is unfazed and goes back to her Barbie.

Love Monster pulls me back into the living room and begins to make weapons for our battle out of cut up straws and balls taped to flutes. “That was badess.” Yeah I thought she said badass too, but no. It was Badess. “She is the bad unicorn. We must transform her with the power circle and square. I find them and hold them intent ready for our quest. Although I’m pretty sure Smirker not gonna like anything pressed on her face.

Love Monster continued. “Badess lives in the Spooky Forest. She does not look beautiful. She likes gross things.”

“True,” I told Love Monster.

“She wants to steal our babies. Especially Hasbro.” She pointed to Rose. “She wants to destroy our homes and lakes.”

“How?” I said enraptured.

“She will make them red and bubbly.”

I nod. That’s not cool.

“Who’s with me?” She said completely serious.

“Definitely me,” I said.

Then the Winx Club came on the TV and she forgot all about Badess and the world she had to save from red bubbly horribleness.

I hope you enjoyed a peek into Love Monster’s brain. If I ever get the dramatic conclusion I will share it with you. I’m dying to know!!!

Happy Halloween everyone!

Love Monster Goes to School: Part Three- Called to the Principal's Office

I cried during my drives to work. I hated to leave Love Monster (and Smirker, don't even get me started with Day Care). And when I drove home I couldn’t wait to to pick her up, but I dreaded it at the same time. I listened to David Sedaris’ When You are Engulfed in Flames and I can’t tell you how much that helped me. Between David being in his underwear in a French waiting room and accidentally spitting a lozenge on a woman crotch, I made it through and laughed through the tears. I imagined how David Sedaris would write about the Love Monster saga. I think he would love the part where Love Monster tried to figure out how the bathroom works. This sends me into a spin.

I shout aloud in my empty car, “My god you sent a kid with ADHD to the bathroom on the fourth fucking day of kindergarten the way you would a normal kid, what the hell else did you expect to happen?? You’re lucky she didn’t dismantle the fucking pipes and build a water slide!”

Then I laughed to myself. I have most certainly cracked. While laughing I saw my smiling ID card for work looking up at me from the cup holder.

“What are you smiling at?? You leave your kid everyday at school and then even longer in the after school program, because you have to work?? Oh and she’s struggling hard core. What kind of mom are you?” 

I liken this to David Sedaris talking to a human skeleton, his Christmas gift to Hugh one year, who kept telling David he was going to die.

“You are a career woman now,” My corporate self kept telling me (She does look dazzling in the new Banana Republic work duds).

That night after another not stellar report from school. I let myself have a full on melt down. This transition was much harder then I ever had anticipated. I sat on the couch stared into space and in full on crazy mode said over and over, “I am a good mom. I am a good mom. I am a good mom.”

Did I make her like this? What should I have done different?

I started writing down all the things I want my girls to learn:

Respect me and adult. I will respect you too. You deserve that.

The Rules are there to keep you safe.

Sometimes school will be hard, but always look for the fun and in the end it will be great.

If you are not sure about something ask. Questions make you smarter.

You are a great leader, but to be one you need to be a good follower too.

Respect your teacher. They give you gifts everyday. They tell you what they know. It makes you a better person.

Being a good friend is being a good listener, playing nice, sharing and having fun!

I go back to my mantra:

“I am a good mom. I am a.... fuck it. I’m a mom. Deal with it.” 

Who was I telling to deal? I don’t know. 

It my my fault the next day started badly. Right before we left the house for school both the girls needed water. (Smirker has started pre-k by the way so I get double the crying now, but luckily she behaves once I leave). So I get the waters putting my schedule off by a few minutes, which I needed to chill about, but it can totally make or break my traffic situation. Then Smirker needed me to hold her and then she spilled her water all over me and I lost it and threw her water on the floor. Both girls start crying. Damn. 

“I’m sorry!” I say now filled with guilt. 

I drop Smirker off at preschool leaving her wailing on the floor. (Seriously this shit better get better, because that feels like full on abandonment every damn day). Meanwhile my worry has begun with Love Monster. I feel resistance in her and my loss of temper had definitely aggravated her already fragile state.

My worry was well founded. It was the worse drop off day to date. She cried so hard I thought she might throw up. She screamed, “Don’t go!” over and over and ran after me if I tried to leave.

And I don’t blame her. All she’s felt is negativity.

I leave her screaming for me. My heart is heavy and I called her dad. He listened and had my back. It’s nice that even though we are no longer together, he and I are a united front when it comes to the girls.

I drive with David Sedaris, my wonderful distractor, but it’s not working as much as before. I’m pissed about traffic. I talked to my boyfriend on the phone.

“And it’s going to take me two hours to get to work now that I’m late!” I yelled. He listened generously. “I’m gonna go. I’m just going to... drive.” My voice sounded hollow. It was all I could think of to say... drive.

And God, parted the cars ahead of me and gave me a smooth drive as if to say, “I can at least give her this.”

I focused on the truck ahead of me and a long piece of binding plastic was dragging the road behind it. I imagined my tires stepping on it like someone might step on the back of someone’s shoes and tripping it and my life turning into a cartoon.

But it’s not is it?

_________________________________________________________________

I never got in trouble at school when I was a kid. Never. And one week into Kindergarten a school meeting is called. The teacher told me in the middle of one of Love Monster’s tantrums when I was leaving her at school. 

I heard,” We need to meet with the principal, school psychologist and teachers.” I also heard (very tenderly), “maybe she shouldn’t be in this class.”

Great. I feel like I’m in trouble. My heart sank. And I also feel like she’s being passed over.

I’m nervous. Although I’m also aware things are getting better. The mystery of the lost evaluation was solved. The good old “slipped through the cracks” excuse. Oh I love administrative fuck ups! Ahh well. Honestly I know it happens. But it really sucks when it happens to your kid. But the teachers were aware of it at this point and started working with Love Monster more closely and gave her a sticker every day she has a good day. An occupational therapist began seeing her in school and was giving her techniques that seemed to really work. One being a weighed vest that she wears in class. It literally slows her down and gives her a feeling of comfort, kind of like being held. I was wary of this at first, but then I saw it in action. And it works. And she loves it!

Before the meeting I prepare like only a crazy, anal person like myself can. I write everything I want to say down. I write how I’m frustrated she was left to flounder. How I want everyone to see what a great kid she is. How I want her to learn and love her like I do. How positive reinforcement goes a long way with her, giving her a job is very helpful, she loves a written down plan and she needs some nurturing right now and maybe don’t let her go to the bathroom without an adult right now. Yes she has issues and that needs to be acknowledged and I am NOT using that as an excuse. I just want her set up for success and not failure.

And from the moment the meeting starts, I relax. It is very clear they are 100% on our side, on Love Monster’s side. They apologize for the evaluation debacle and for an hour we talk about how to help Love Monster. They assure me she does belong in this class and we talk about all the great things about her and they listen with smiles on their faces. I realize. They love her and her success is important to them. They validate the fact that she does have special needs and they should have been tended to immediately to avoid problems that happened. I feel so lucky to have these teachers. She belongs here. And we have a plan. Just like Love Monster likes.

When I picked her up that day it wasn’t smooth. She had made a girl cry because the girl had the same hair do as her and Love Monster wanted to be different. Ugh. It’s going to take time. But we’ll get there. I hope.

                      ____________________________________________________

Then they both have good days!!! I’m so freaking excited that we immediately go out to pizza and ice cream. I call their dad. We are so happy and relieved. I smile and look at my little girl. My little Love Monster. 

My smile fades. 

Truth time.

I have a dash of doubt. I know I shouldn’t. But I do. I am so protective of her. I’m scared.  I’m scared of so many things for her. Now it’s learning how to be a student, how to be safe on the play ground, making friends and having a good self esteem. Later the things I’m scared of for her... I have a deep, dark secret fear when it comes to Love Monster that is too much for me write down. I can’t write it down for all to see. Maybe I’m afraid it will become real. I hope the fear dissipates. It’s terrifying. But I do have hope. 

Even though just the other after getting in trouble she told me, “ But mom I stepped on that boy’s head SOFTLY.”

For now, I know I’m leaving her in very capable, no, extraordinary hands with her teachers. And for now Love Monster walking into the classroom, smiling and telling me how excited she is for mystery reader time is good enough for me.

This is the perfect picture of Love Monster. In motion and loving life.