While we're on the subject...

When I was pregnant with my children I had lots of strange dreams. After the two pregnancies I was amazed that the two pregnancies were similiar in that I had dreams. Each pregnancy I dreamt of celebrities. I am not a celebrity hound. I don't read the gossip rags. I may occassionally glance through People but do not seek it out. Another similiarity was the subject matter of the dreams remained constant for the particular pregnancy and each of the subject matter was disturbing for markedly different reasons.

For the first pregnancy I will not describe those dreams in detail; nor, even hint to what they were about. What I'll tell you is Goldie Hawn, Sally Fields and several other female actresses were in those dreams.

While I carried MI the actors ranged from Don Knotts to Tom Cruise (Which some of you may remember that I disliked Tom Cruise long before it came into vogue.) These were dreams of action, adventure, murder and doomsday. I was hounded with dreams about serial murderers, mass murderers and the end of the Earth as we know it. It use to scare me. I thought perhaps I was being possessed by the devil or something.

Where is all of this leading to? My Mom picked up my girls from their respective institutions. When she got to MI's she was handed a report. It wasn't good. In fact it was down right scarry! My little darling had her hands around another child's throat! She was doing her best at strangling the little guy. His offense? He told her he wasn't her friend.

Hmmm! Now that was a tactic I never thought of as a child longing for friendship and companionship. They won't be my friends I'll just kill 'em!

What's even funnier is we do not use physical punishment. Okay. We give 'em a slap on the hinney when they are behaving dangerously. Things like... playing with matches, running into the street, strangling other children... OOPS I didn't do that. No. I talked to her about how she could have really hurt the other child. I told her how disappointed I was with her behavior.

Reflecting on things that have happened over the past year in preschool I realize that MI is far more violent than my other children have ever been. This past year she told other children in her class that I would come and shoot them with my gun. (I don't own a gun!) MI resorts to her fists and feet first. What I'm wondering is... were the dreams an indication of what is to be? Do I have some sort of budding criminal on my hands? Pray not. I wonder whether the preschool teachers think she comes from an abusive family.

My little darling is the cutest thing in the world. She is sweet and funny but I don't think you want to make her mad. I keep telling myself that her spunk will hold her in good stead when she's an adult. I've told MI not to turn bitter. I've told her to stay sweet. This was one of those days where I wonder if I will ever get this parenting thing down.

My weekend

One would think that being stuck in a house with three little girls for the whole weekend would have driven me bonkers. Well it didn't. In fact, it was one of my best weekends in recent times.

I know that some family members found me rather dull when I was a stay-at-home mom. I think Passionfruit thought I was a bore. However, I would have to say that I really did enjoy being a professional mommy. I loved being able to run around doing what I wanted to do most of the time. Yes. I was a mother centered on my children. They were my world and my companions. Yes. There were times when I was lonely and bored. But overall I had fun with them.

But this weekend was a return to what it was like with the kids on a full-time bases. I allowed them to crawl all over me. I allowed them to jump on me. We played games. We read books. They made hot chocolate for themselves. I did the laundry. We baked pies. My house is a wreck but we had a good time together.

Now I have to admit that I can not say that I would have had such a good time if Passionfruit hadn't been here to spell me at times. I actually got to go to the bathroom alone a few times. This weekend should be remembered by all as a good weekend... a good memory. I'm glad we had this time together.

When I reflect on being a working mother I realize that I won't be "loyal" to the outside work. I want to be loyal to my children. I want to be involved with them. It was this weekend that I found out that DQ is teased at school for being Chinese. What can one say? It hurts to be teased but I told her that children always tease others for their differences. I asked her to think about all the kids in her school. I asked her whether all the children are a like? Their not. So I asked her whether she thought everyone of the students has been teased at one time or another. DQ didn't seem too upset after that.

There is a book at my library that is relatively new. The title is More than just a mother. I find this title offensive. I never stopped to look at it because I bristle everytime I look at it. Being a mother is one of the most difficult jobs a woman could ever take on in her life. Her charges are the most critical of her and are the ones that love her. I cherish my children. They are my life in the most profound way. I think the title should be More than just a woman. Any female born can be a woman but not all women can be a mother. I have a friend that I share the challenges of mothering. We often discuss our fears. Fears of whether we are mothering well. We fear that we are hurting our children. At that particular lunch we realized that those that do abuse children don't really worry about hurting their children. Yes, my friend, parenting is one of the most difficult, challenging, exhausting roles we live but I think we are doing the best we can. And I think our best is above average. Our Christian life is challenged by our children but think what our role model puts up with for thousands of years. Errant children frustrate God, don't you think? One can almost look at the New Testament as God looking for a positive way to deal with his challenging offspring. Think about it. The New Testament is all positive and loving but I don't think it is one hundred percent effective in getting God's children to follow Him. So God still finds us a challenge but I think he takes a lot of time outs.

I want to end with this thought: I am a mother. I am a human. I have failings. But everyday I try very hard to start the day a new. Work at one point made me loose my focus. I work to keep my focus on what is important... my children. I refuse to apologize for being mother focused. I am a mother. Accept me for who I am. I am not just a woman. I am a mother.

Manic Mass of Christ!

I really marvel at my parents. If we were anything like my children at Christmas time my parents deserve a medal! Especially for not killing us in our manic state. Yes! A manic state has creeped into our lives. The girls are all pumped up with visions of gifts, and gifts, and gifts.

I contemplate not celebrating Christmas. I think about telling the kids to forget Christmas morning because Santa called and said you all are too wild. Of course we do the normal threatening... "You better behave because Santa's watching!" Yet this doesn't even seem to phase them. It's like they know they'll get the goods no matter how bad they behave.

I don't know, Christmas is somehow different than when I was a kid. I was always excited about Santa coming. I wondered what I would get. I asked Santa for stuff and usually didn't get it. But you know I was never truly heart-broken, or disappointed. It was just great to run out to the living room and see all the presents under the tree. To wake Mom and Dad up early. To turn the tree on and watch the twinkling lights. To smell ginger bread men and other goodies hanging in the air-- it was all a promise. A promise that it was going to be the best day of the year. And you know I can't think of a single Christmas that wasn't wonderful.

What surprises me is how I have to go wake up the kids in the morning. I have already turned on the tree lights; had a cup of hot chocolate or coffee; and sat enjoying the quiet peaceful morning. I savor that brief moment in the morning, and then I can't stand it any longer and I go wake up those little darlings. I watch their faces as they see what Santa brought them.

Last year I had to explain to a disappointed DQ that a bike is a good thing. Better than the thing she asked Santa for-- a suitcase. Oh the drama of the morning. I really lost my cool. It was during the shower I took that I understood/realized what DQ must of thought when she didn't find what she asked for from Santa. I'm still kicking myself for the decision I made last year. I should have bought her the bag and gave Storyteller the bike. ST uses it more than DQ does any old day. Don't worry Storyteller's getting a bike this year. The best part is it's all put together already!

I've noticed this mania seems to increase with their age. Of course I suppose at some point this will end too. Especially after they realize that there isn't a real Santa Claus. If they turn into materialistic grubby monsters at that point I may just go ahead and skip Christmas presents all together. I'll use the money that I would spend on a charity that does excellent work. I'd much rather build a home half way around the world than buy some spoiled child an X-box or a Wii or what ever will be in fashion then. But that's the future. Right now they are the sweetest little girls. They're excited, sweet little girls that I love dearly.