A bit of a rant

I don't use the blog often to complain...but today I just have to. First of all, a shout out to all stay-at-home moms and dads out there. I have a ton of respect and admiration for what you do. I am the first to admit, I am not sure I would be a particularly good stay at home mom. Patience is not my strong suit. Nor, really, is structuring play-filled days. A bad combo for having great success with the aforementioned role.

That said, I am sick and tired of organizations, schools, sports, etc. that cater only to households where a parent stays at home. Come on, it is 2009 and there are tons and tons of households where two parents either have to or choose to work outside the home.

1. The schools. Caleb is doing some summer school this summer to continue to work on his reading. We first discussed this with his teacher (who was/is awesome and I know this up-and-coming complaint has nothing to do with her) back at conferences in March. Yes March. We were told it would be held from June 22 through July 14 and would be a 6 hour day. All great and good, except neither of us work a 6-hour day. Now I could have made arrangements for Caleb to go to his summer camp program for an hour and a half a day, but that would have been to the tune of $220 a week. Hmmmm, $220 for 7 1/2 hours of care? Sorry, no can do.

My mom graciously agreed to help with picking up Caleb a few days a week and I would shift my schedule a few days a week. Problem was, we had no idea what time school began or ended. I called the school system office weekly from March until the last week of school. (Yes, I am sure they loooove me.) Kept being told it's a bussing issue and they didn't know if the day would run form 7:30-1:30 or 8:45-2:45. Come on! First of all, we all had to sign up for summer school back in March, so it was pretty clear who was attending and what the bus routes would need to be. On the last day of school, June 9 a letter came home with his bus route time and school hours on it. Giving us working parents a whopping two weeks to arrange for care.

2. Swimming lessons. Our kids need to learn how to swim. I mean really learn how. They have an okay doggy paddle. But it's time to get this done. I know there are plenty of lessons at the local Y and community ed on the weekends. But frankly, as a family with two parents who work outside the home (and inside the home, too, thankyouverymuch) the last thing we want is to book up our weekends. I knew our local swimming pool...no, let's rephrase that, our COMMUNITY pool, offered swimming lessons so I went to their web site to check it out. And do they ever offer swimming lessons. About 40 options to pick from. And every single one of them was offered at 9:00, 10:00 or 11:00 a.m. on WEEKDAYS! Awesome. Thanks a lot guys.

3. Soccer practice. Caleb and Noah are both playing soccer through our community leagues. Many of the parents show up to coach or cheer the kids on in heels, suits, skirts and dress shirts. Yet for some inane reason, Caleb's team is holding their practices at 5:00 p.m. on Tuesday nights. Clearly, we all signed up for soccer that has games at 6:00 or 7:15 at night for a reason. While I am fortunate enough to have a job where I can say "Hey my kid is in summer school so for the next few weeks, I have to leave early two days a week to get him..." I cannot and will not leave work for 7-year-old soccer.

So there it is. My "I am sick of this" post.

Kids are Funny Creatures

Brian and Caleb headed off to their first ever weekend away for Cub Scout camp. I'll let Brian share those stories and pictures later (we'll see if we can get him back on here...as I think his last blog post was when I went on bedrest 15 months ago :)

So that left Elijah, Noah and I together for the weekend. Noah was a bit bummed out by this, as Saturday was his 6th birthday. So Eli and I did what we could to try to make it feel special. Well, really, I did what I could as all Eli could do was just be Eli. Which he did a great job at.

We started off Saturday with Noah requesting blueberry muffins for his birthday breakfast. I made the mistake of putting the candle in the muffin while it was still too hot and we suddenly had a very pink, waxy muffin.

We kept moving over the weekend. Spent some time at a friend's house swimming in their pool and topped the day off with Dairy Queen treats. By Sunday, Noah was ready for Caleb to get home. And by all accounts, Caleb was ready to see us, too. Evidently, during free time, instead of b-b guns or boating, he said it was time to get home.

The boys reunited about 3:00 and had a good couple of hours playing. But we could both hear it... The bickering was rising to the surface. We have really been trying to teach the boys that when one or the other bugs them, just don't give them the satisfaction of knowing it has worked. Bottom line, if someone is trying to bug you...don't let them.

So this undercurrent was growing. Lovely.

Brian expressed that he wanted to go to Punch Pizza, kind of a "gourmet" pizza place in the neighborhood for dinner. To back up three (or 23) steps, I should say that Caleb has decided...and I do mean decided...that he doesn't like cheese. Any kind of cheese. Period. It is insane. And we have let him know this.

We have both pointed out to him that this will make for a truly miserable life of cast parties, overnights and sporting events (the sporting events were an afterthought as the two of us spent far more time hanging with friends and doing cast parties after plays than we did sporting events). Because, really, any of those events you will be bound to have pizza. But nonetheless, the pizza/cheese thing has gotten out of control. I have also pointed out that I make many meals with cheese in them and just haven't told him this, but that also hasn't proven our point.

It's also worth mentioning that this pizza place also has very little cheese on their pizzas.

So Caleb gets all dramatic on us about not wanting pizza. We just assumed, the kid is tired and he'll get over it, and so we all piled in the car.

The pizza place is about 8 blocks from our house.

We made it 4.

I was driving and the kids were bickering and picking and poking and still crying about cheese and swearing they weren't going to eat dinner and I thought...ENOUGH.

Time for a tough love night.

And so I turned the car around. (Sorry Brian.) And we drove home. And along the way, I came up with one of my best punishments yet. If being around each other is so hard and horrible, then we are going to have a week where we pretend they don't live together. While they share a room, this week they will not share a table, they will not be allowed to play together or even talk to each other. They have to take turns brushing teeth and be in the bathroom at different times. And they will be miserable. And we both hope...really, really, hope...that the might learn some little lesson about the fact that having a brother 20 months apart from you can be an okay thing.

Stay tuned. It's going to be a long week.

And no, we still haven't solved this cheese thing. Stay tuned on that front, too.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have walking (and chicken dancing)

On Memorial Day, Elijah took his first unassisted steps. And now, three weeks later, he is full out walking. In fact, it's his preferred mode of transportation. You forget how wild it is to have this little person just trucking around your home in an upright position until it happens.

He is also quite the chicken dancer. Elijah loves to dance. Music comes on and he can't resist moving to the beat. Reminds me quite a bit of Noah. One of his favorite moves is what we have come to call "The Chicken Dance." No, not that chicken dance, thankfully. But he pulls his arms up so they look like chicken wings and flaps them. It's ridiculously cute, if I do say so myself.

So here you go, our walking, chicken dancin' boy.

Tank Tops

It's a wild busy time at the Snyder household. School gets out today, I am off with the boys the rest of the week, we continue to run to and from soccer games and practices, summer camp starts next week and I am traveling for work next week. So I don't have much time to post. But had to share a funny Caleb observation/interaction from yesterday.

I was 3/4 dressed wearing my work pants and the tank top shell of my sweater set. It's been about 45-50 here in Minnesota (yes those were the highs) the past few days and it's been KILLING the kids to have to wear pants and long sleeves during the last week of school. Caleb walks into my room in the morning and sees what I am wearing.

Caleb: No fair! (don't you just LOOOOOVE that...man, Mom and Dad, I am sorry for all of the times I ever said that to you, it's the worst) Why do you get to wear a tank top to work and I have to wear long sleeves.

Me: (holding up my sweater) Caleb, I just haven't put the sweater on top yet cause I have to dry my hair and don't want to get hot.

Caleb: Ooooh, okay. Hey Mom, I know why it's called a "tank top."

Me: Oh yeah (thinking: really? cause I don't). Why?

Caleb: Well, because you are like a tank and it goes on your top.



Ouch. From the mouths of babes. Or almost 8 year olds. I think from the mouths of babes is better. Time to go eat some leafy greens and drink some water.