Okay, I don’t mean “Yay! My kid is sick!”  Of course I hate to see them suffer.  And I don’t love the sleepless nights and rivers of snot and feeling like every surface will be covered in germs forever.

But there is something sweet about sick days.  No to-do lists, no gym, no errands, no chores, no TV rules.  Toast for dinner.   The only thing that needs to be done is to help a little body feel better while it fights off the Yuck.  And that duty mostly amounts to making tea and snuggling on the couch while watching loads of TV.

This sweetness does have an expiration date.  After about 2 days the novelty wears off and we all start to get sick and tired of being sick and tired.  So I’m hoping for a sudden miraculous recovery tomorrow, and praying this particular illness passes over the rest of the household.

They never noticed.

No, I wasn’t having a fit of rage this time.  It’s just that these kids just don’t seem to do toys.  I mean, they’ll play with new things for a bit; mostly in a way that was never intended by the manufacturer  (“Let’s grind this chalk into dust!” “Let’s pretend these game pieces are bird food!”).  But then the toy is mostly discarded and forgotten, until a friend comes over and discovers it in the unloved bin.  Violet and Graham spend a lot of time playing with dirt and grass and water and rocks.  They draw and create and destroy.  Art kits hold limited fascination for them.  They want to make their own materials and games and rules.

This is good, right?

Since the fires this summer, I’ve been thinking a lot about all our stuff.  When you spend weeks worrying that at any moment something could destroy your home, you start to make a mental (or physical) Can’t Live Without box.  What I realized is that there isn’t much I would absolutely need to save.  In fact, when we replaced the floors in our house last month, we had to move most of our belongings into the garage.  Half of it is still out there and, like the kids and their toys, I barely noticed.

I try really hard not to accumulate too many Things.  The donation truck stops here once a month and I always have bags and bags to give them.  Yet I still feel overwhelmed with the amount of stuff that seems to multiply, Tribble-like, into an avalanche of items I had forgotten we even own.

So now it’s November and I’m thinking about Christmas and birthdays and requests from grandparents for updated wish lists.  Well, the kids and I have talked about it and decided on a theme: Experiences, Not Stuff.  Now that they are able to comprehend Future Fun instead of Instant Gratification, it’s possible to attempt this.  I’m sure Santa will bring a few items to unwrap, but the kids are mostly looking forward to exciting things to DO.  So far, their wish lists include: Sea World tickets, camp and singing class.

This could be the start of a great tradition.  OR… it could completely backfire and I’ll be The Mother Who Ruined Christmas.  But I think I’m willing to take a chance.  What experiences did you love as a kid? What do your kids love to do now?  What ideas can I give them for their wish lists?

Graham decided to illustrate this point on the Fourth of July.  We were having a family BBQ and pool party on Long Island.  The kids were wearing their tubes. I was eating my burger, watching them play a game called Climb on the Floating Lounge Chair and Fall Off.  Probably not surprisingly, Graham went overboard head first.  Because he had the tube around his waist, he couldn’t right himself.  He was stuck upside down under water.  Violet and the 8-year-old they were playing with  just stared at his flailing feet.  I threw my burger down and flung myself to the edge of the pool (a whole yard away).  Almost immediately I realized I couldn’t reach him.  So I dove gracefully into the water flopped into the water, my skirt flipping up in the process.  After about 20 years I was able to grab Graham and haul him out.  He coughed and started to cry.  We stood there, shivering, everyone at the party staring in shocked silence.

“That was my lesson!” Graham said when he was finally able to speak.  I’m not exactly sure what his lesson was… maybe don’t play Climb on the Floating Lounge Chair?  But I know what my lesson was: Don’t Look Away. Not even for a minute.  Not even with other swimmers nearby.   He went under so quickly and quietly.  Violet and her friend had no idea that he was in trouble.    What if, instead of watching them, I’d been chatting, or grabbing a drink or… ?  I don’t want to think about it.  I’ve not been as vigilant as I could’ve been in the past.  This was a wake-up call.

Swim lessons are scheduled for next week.  Life-savers for professional use only.

And thanks to Aunt Kathy for loaning me dry clothes.

A week after school got out, Rob came home to find the TV in the middle of the living room floor.  That was as far as I could drag it after I flipped out on the kids and ripped the thing off the wall.  (Okay, I carefully unplugged it.)

Before summer started we had a family meeting.  We agreed on a few ground rules:

1. I get to go to the gym every week day.
2. We all have daily “separation time”.
3. Each kid gets to pick 1 show per day.
4. No whining about the above rules.
5. I take them to do fun things all summer.

I somehow assumed that once we agreed on these rules, that would be the end of it.

Really? Why did I think that?  What, in my experience with kids, made me assume they would be rational?

So everyday it was: “Gym? Noooo!  Play in my room? Nooooo!  I don’t want to watch what he/she picked!! I want to watch another one!!! One more! ONE MORE!!!!”  Until I found myself lugging the TV across the living room.

Now, I am not a TV Nazi.  I think, like anything, it can be a very useful tool in moderation.  During the school year the kids got to watch a 1/2 hour to unwind after pick-up and a 1/2 hour while I cooked dinner.  The truth is, for the first 4 years of her life Violet  would have nothing to do with TV.  I can’t count the times I was sick and begging her to just watch the flippin TV so I could rest.  No.  She only wanted to run around and climb on me.  Graham, on the other hand, would happily sit in front of the idiot box all day.  (It’s very tempting for me.  This house would spotless, every meal a work of art, and my to-do list crushed.)

So after my irrational proclamation that they were “NOT GOING TO WATCH TV ALL SUMMER!!!”, reality hit.  What have I gotten myself into?  Well, it’s been two weeks.  They’ve (mostly) stopped asking to watch TV.  Instead they beg to use the computer/iPod.  And I let them.  For a bit.  After all, they only really know how to go to PBS kids and a reading website.  Of course, the first time I went to shower while they played on the computer I came out to discover they figured out how to watch PBS cartoons online.  Sigh.  So we’re working on some guidelines for computer time.  At least it’s a little more active than laying coma-like in front of the tube.

And that is not to say they don’t watch any TV.  It’s always on at the gym Kids’ Club.  And when we visit the grandparents this summer I’m going to let them gorge themselves on Nickelodeon.  Plus we have family movie night every so often.

I’m not trying to be all snooty and crunchier-than-thou about TV, I’m just experimenting.  Is it possible my kids will learn to use their imaginations more?  Will they figure out how to stop constantly fighting?  Or will they spend all summer in time-out while I cower under the kitchen table babbling incoherently?  Bet you can’t wait to find out.

I have decided that maybe I am not perfectly suited to being the mother of babies or toddlers.  When I think of those years, it reminds me, somehow, of being in high school: always exhausted, completely crazed by hormones, constantly worried and confused, overwhelmed by endless tasks, trapped in a never-ending routine, thrilled by the newness of everything and either madly in love or utterly crushed.  I’m grateful for what I experienced and learned as a teenager  and then the years with my babies.  But I’ll be honest: I NEVER WANT TO DO THOSE THINGS AGAIN.  That’s it.  I’m happy to be done.  I’ll look back on those days fondly but with a disbelieving shake of the head.  Because I can’t properly describe how equally awful and amazing it all was.  And how, because of that, I am enjoying this time so much more.

That is not to say that life is easy and the kids are well behaved angels all the time, or that I don’t bitch about it.  In fact, the reason I am able to write this right now is that they are enjoying “separation hour” alone in their rooms (a vacation routine that keeps us all from killing each other).  The second day of summer break was not so idyllic.  Unsure of what to do with themselves, and unused to being together all day, they fought.  And whined.  And fought.  And I snapped. And nagged. And snapped.  We seem to be reaching some kind of equilibrium now, but it’s tenuous.  Still, I’m able to not just make it through the day, but actually enjoy (most) of it.  A lot of this has to do with the fact that I’m getting much more sleep. But classes have helped, as have friends, exercise, hobbies, and way more time off than I ever allowed myself to have before.  But it’s also their age.  They have turned into to little… people.  Funny, smart, kind, happy people that I want to hang out with.  This is… well…  incredible.

Twenty more minutes until “separation hour” is over.  Time to take a nap.  Because these awesome little people I love are still freakin exhausting.

I can’t really fathom what a huge change this is going to make in my life.  Aside from two mornings a week, I’ve had Violet home with me for five years.  Five and a half.  That’s a long time to keep a tiny maniac from completing her plans of world domination.  Yes I’ll still be at home with Graham, but that is another story entirely.  I must say I am really looking forward to spending time with him.  He has been competing for attention since the day he was born and I’d love to see him relax and know he doesn’t have to try so hard.  I want to make cookies, do art projects, garden, with just him.  These are things I do with both kids, but generally Violet has to star in the show.

Which is why I am not worried about how she will do in school; even with the dual-language. I mean, in some ways I feel like I should warn her teachers, but I’d hate to give them preconceived notions.  Example: During swim lessons this summer the teen-aged instructor finally got fed up with Violet and another girl giggling and inching away from class.  They got sent into Time Out.  The girl burst into tears.  Violet looked at her with an expression of extreme surprise and said, “What are you crying for?  It’s just Time Out!”  I really hope her kindergarten teachers know how to channel that energy rather than sending her to endless exhile.  Her other “schools” never seemed to be able to do that.

I’ll admit it; when I was little, I was the kid who cried when disciplined. My personality is so opposite Violet’s that I often think she is some kind of alien child; like that dream I had when I was pregnant with her actually came true.   It’s clear I subconsciously assumed that if I had a girl she would be a mini-me; that I would always be able to relate to her and, thus, be better able to help her.  The truth is, although she looks more like me each day, she is a mini-Rob: outgoing, talkative, creative, high-energy, a leader, a performer, impossibly smart.  I don’t know what advice I could possibly offer to that kind of kid.  And will I understand her less and less the more she is gone?

We’re going to miss her.  She and Graham have decided they want to be twins so they can be together all day.  I just wish I could be a fly on the wall while she navigates through this next step.  I don’t want to rescue her, I just want to watch.  That would be the best reality TV show ever.

So almost a year ago we embarked on an experiment: put the kids in the same room for the summer.  Were we successful?

Well, that depends on how you define “success”.

If by success you mean that the kids learned to sleep in the same room happily all summer, then no.  We failed failed failed.

But let’s not focus on the negative, eh?  I’m counting the experience as a success because we accomplished two important things: 1) a smooth transition for Graham from crib to bed, and 2) the ability to survive family vacations.

I can’t take total credit for helping Graham deal with the weirdness of moving from a cozy crib to a giant bed.  Violet did all that for me.  He learned by example that big kids sleep in beds, with pillows and blankets.  Seems simple, but Violet had a very hard time with this when she was two.

As for the family vacations, while nights weren’t always perfect, it was such a relief to have flexibility in our sleeping arrangements.  We’ve gone to Oregon, Washington, New York, the hill country, and twice to the beach.  An added bonus is that when people visit us, the kids can be put in one room and the other can be used for guests.  (So come visit!  No more sleeping in the living room!  You’ll still have to wake up at the crack of dawn, though.)

What I’m trying to say is that we may have lost some battles, but we won the war.  (Okay, so technically we just won the sleep battle and the kids are still waging general war.  Update on that in a couple decades.)  Meanwhile, here are some room sharing tips:

• Don’t expect perfection the first night, or even the second.
• You may have to sit in the room with them until they are calm(ish).  Also, we are not above threats and bribes.
• If possible, position the beds so that the kids are out of each other’s direct line of sight.
• A sound machine can help.
• A toddler clock can help, especially in the morning.  (Be warned, you may have to physically dismantle the “alarm feature” because it “accidentally” gets turned on.  This enrages me like nothing else.)

Any other tips to add?  Vacations to invite us on?

Would you apply for this job?  Of course not.  But that’s what the life of a stay-at-home-mom feels like sometimes.

Am I complaining about my lame little 1st world problems?  Yes.  But it’s entirely possible for a person to go completely bonkers in a safe cozy home stocked with food and equipped modern conveniences.  I’m just trying to gain some perspective and explain why I’ve been a big giant raw nerve lately.

Let’s brainstorm some of our Roadblocks to Sanity:

• The end of naps means the end of any kind of daily break for me.
• Violet and Graham are not “easy” kids.  They don’t play independently for more than 5 minutes (and trust me, I’ve being trying to instill this ability in them forever).  They need more stimulation and energy than I can possibly give them by myself.
• Graham is unbelievably mommy-centric.  He will not allow Rob to do the most mundane chore for him.  Put on socks?  NEVER!  Make lunch?  FORGET IT!  (Tickle monster chase?  Sometimes…. ) It’s much easier to give in than withstand yet another hour of screaming.  The result is that Rob is on the sidelines at a time in our parenting lives when I need more help than ever.  This is seriously frustrating for a great father and husband.
• Because of the above, our to-do list grows ever longer and more overwhelming.

So what can I do about this?  I’ve got some ideas:

• Sit in a coffee shop with my computer both mornings they’re in school.  SIT. JUST SIT!  Try not to spend the entire time working.
• Spend more time with friends.  Drag myself there.  I always feel better afterwards.
• Eat well, exercise, vitamins… yada yada
• go out on more dates
• more wine?

Any others?    I know this stage is not forever.  And please understand that I also realize how lucky I am to have healthy kids and a wonderful husband.  Nevertheless, I’m endlessly surprised at the always-changing ways this whole parenting thing is HARD.  We want to find ways to enjoy it, not fight it.

Thankfully, no office coworkers are as cute or sweet as Violet and Graham… and I’m assuming they don’t snuggle as well.

VIOLET:  Mom, when is dinner?

ME:  Dinner was two hours ago and you didn’t eat it.  That’s it.

V:  But Mom!  I’m hungry!  I want dinner!

M:  I guess you missed your chance to eat dinner.  I’m not making you another one.

V (furiously):  If you don’t make me something to eat, I’m going to EAT YOU!!

GRAHAM (panicked):  No!!! Don’t eat Mommy!

V (still furious):  Graham, if you don’t let me eat Mommy, I’m going to EAT YOU TOO!

G (still panicked):  Nooo!  Don’t eat me!

V (soothing):  Graham, I won’t eat you if you let me eat Mommy.  Okay?

G: NOO!!!

V: Okay?

G:  No.

V: Okay?

G: NO!

Car and argument continue down the road. Dinner is not mentioned again.

We got an invitation a few weeks ago to a kid birthday party.  In it I was amazed to find a note indicating where the child was registered for gifts.  I have to admit that I was, well, a little creeped out.  Imagining any kid wandering through a toy store, marking down all the items she will definitely get at her birthday party just seems wrong.  Doesn’t that just take the fun, creativity and surprise out of it?  Doesn’t it seem like it would make the child feel a bit too entitled?  Don’t they need to learn how to smile and pretend that they like a present that actually sucks?

The more I thought about it, though, the more interesting the idea became.  What if I was the one to walk through the store and register?  Wouldn’t that avoid all those toys that the kids say they want just because they think it looks fun at the store?  Would that allow me to be sure they’d get appropriate items and not, say, slutty dolls or BB guns?  Wouldn’t it be helpful for out-of-town grandparents or childless family members who have no idea what kids like?  Or would that make me too much of a control freak?

What do you think?  Is a kid registry a good idea, or just creepy?