Sunday, April 10, 2011

I like my "Toy Story" Journal...

...yup, I do.  I even made an entry today. 
I digress...let me back up and share (TMI).
I am a nudist.  Wait.  A home nudist.  Well, maybe nudist is the wrong term...maybe shameless is more fitting.  I am not shy in front of my kids or my partner...poor them....but they are use to it.  You would then assume that this level of shamelessness would be passed on?  Well, yes...and no.  (As we speak one exited the bathroom after a shower, all pink and clean, not caring that our front door was wide was only a few steps to her bedroom, but she is shameless as well.)  All this lack-of-shame should then make talking about the normal "female-uncomfortable-sex-period-life-body-blah blah blah" stuff a piece of cake as well, yes?  Well, yes.  And no again.  Is it ever that easy?!  My older daughter is, and always has been, quite mature.  With her is has always been no big deal...not embarrassing, not a bit awkward...straight up facts and discussions. 
So imagine my surprise a of couple years ago when my (almost) 10 year old doesn't want to even discuss her eventual period!  Wait a minute.  This is the same child that wore a robe to say good-night to guests, then cartwheeled away w/o any underwear underneath?!  Now she's turning red at the mention of arm-pit hair?  How could one of MY children be shy about talking about boobs?! 
As any good mother would do, I forced her to sit and listen to me babble on until at least her cheeks didn't match my red hair anymore, and she even asked a few questions. 
How would I be able to have an open relationship about her changing body, her growing curiosity, MY SANITY AT MY BABY GROWING UP?
The day came (a few months ago) where I found some "interesting" visited web-sites...and since I know my partner doesn't need to visit Wikipedia to learn about the male penis and its function, or having sex (yes, she did fess up completely about hearing kids talk at school and being curious), I knew I needed a new approach.  I took the scholarly approach and brought it up at dinner and drinks with some girlfriends who have daughters...and, as always, this was a Eureka moment!  The Toy Story Journal!!  (Ok, so it really has nothing to do w/ Toy Story at all...but it was a give-away at a friend's son's birthday so it was fair game.)  The Journal part came from one of the girlfriends, who happens to have two daughters also (and who happens to be a teacher).  She started a private journal between her and one of her daughters to discuss things that were difficult or embarrassing to verbalize.  What an awesome idea (...totally wish I could take all the credit)!  They have special places that they leave it for each other so it stays private, but can be passed back and forth.
OMG, this means I actually get to read a journal that has juicy info!  And its OK!  (Although, if you know my girls, you know that they are so non-typical that they don't journal to them self, and wouldn't know a juicy thought if it hit them in the backside...but I like it like that.) 
So, today I journaled to my Belle, telling her it was for all the things that she was embarrassed to say or didn't want to verbalize, but had thoughts or questions about.  I gave it to her and didn't say a word (thus, avoiding the pink cheek moment).  She took it and read it on her bed, then set it by her pillow and continued to play with her sister.  This made me smile because one, she read it and didn't look embarrassed (oh yeah, I spied), and two, that it didn't end up being dropped in a lost-to-the-world crap bin that she seems to shove everything else into.  I rated being put next to the pillow...saved for later. 

So hats off to girlfriends who have great ideas, Toy Story Journal party favors, open communication w/ the offspring...and cupcakes.  (Just pretend that wasn't random)

Monday, April 4, 2011

No time like the crazy-busy time...

I must confess, I'm not a blog reader.  Not to say I haven't been sucked in on the rare occasion where I just have to click on every "friend/follower" of the blog as I feel the pull of a strangers' life...almost voyeuristic like. 

Yet, I'm not a blog writer either.  It feels sorta "attention-whore-ish".  Yup, I said it.  All my real-life blogger friends can gasp knowing that I say that with honesty...and love.  I do have Facebook, but I also don't post that I'm tired, sick, about to walk into Starbucks, or what I'm making for dinner.  My thought has always been, "I don't care what 'xyz' is making for dinner (unless I'm invited or getting leftovers)" why should they care what I'm doing 24/7?  I pretty much post pictures...most people like pictures, right?

Well, it seems that people have been caring (and started asking) about something I'm doing...I have successful kids.  Period.  You would think that it would make me a successful parent (but I'll be the first to admit that the verdict is still out on that one...ha).  I get comments pretty regularly about my children and "how I do it".  This may sound like bragging, take it as you will, but my kids are the proof...the one thing I am not is a lazy parent. 
A few weeks ago, I had a staff member at my younger daughter's school ask me to write a book for the school about "successful parenting"...a kind of "how-to"...  I actually laughed and said that no one would read it!  I have good things to say, I have good parenting theories...yet its not a piece of cake to always put them to practice (...which is KEY...and hard...).  Mmmm, cake.

Thus, a blog.