“Teen Mom” drawing criticism
Happy Mother’s Day
The second Sunday in May is my favorite day of the year.
Not for the gifts, or the special deals moms can find around town. Not for the flowers or for that nice dinner out. But because it’s a day set aside to cherish our own moms and our children. It’s the one day a year many of us can celebrate having a mother and being one at the same time.
Like many of you, I am completely in love with being a mom. It has brought the greatest joys imaginable and every day I wake up and know how truly blessed I am to have my little boy there. It’s the kind of love that is truly unconditional and unwavering. The kind of love that lets you know you’d do anything for your children. And it’s the kind that I celebrate in my own way every day, not just on Mother’s Day.
Mother’s Day makes me stop and think about how much my own mom has always loved and sacrificed for me. Although if you ask her, she wouldn’t call them sacrifices, but just “the things that moms do.”
So give your kids the biggest hug, not just this Sunday, but every day. Cherish those little gifts they’ll give you that they made with their own two hands. Call or visit your own mom. Tell her how much you love and appreciate her. Let her know how much you’ve learned from her. And enjoy your special day.
-Erica Smith
esmith@opubco.com
One-on-one time is worth infinity plus infinity plus one
Nearly every weekday morning for the last two years, I’ve had a little friend ride with me to and from work. We’ve had many conversations via the rearview mirror – my youngest child, now 5, buckled into a car seat in the back, and myself in the front as I drove to work and dropped him off at daycare just across the street.
We’ve talked about his school, his friends, his fears, his toys, how much we loved each other — googleplex plus googleplex times infinity plus 180 or so – and, most recently the latest superpowers that he acquired from a friend, including his laser eyes, ability to spawn tornadoes and hands that could freeze anything they touched. Some days, all he wanted to do was clench his green blanket and suck his thumb, a relaxing end to a long day, but now, at age 5, he’s growing up and moving out of that stage.
So today, I’m sad, as I have been for the last several weeks: I dropped off and picked up my youngest son at the OPUBCO Child Development Center for the last time. Today was his last day, and after next week, the doors to the wonderful facility will close for good. The teachers and staff and aides are outstanding, and I hate to say good-bye to them and the happy place that’s done so much good for children through the years.
As families have found other places for their children to attend, it’s become more and more like a ghost town lately, but the teachers still there continue to be dedicated and committed to the well being of the remaining children.
I’ve loved the childcare center (thanks, OPUBCO, for running it all these years), but I’ve cherished even more this one-on-one time with my son, daily alone moments that are hard to grab with any of my children, since there are three of them and only one of me. As the youngest, he’s had even less of me than the others because I’m spread thinner, now single and working full time, which I didn’t do when the older two, now 8 and nearly 10, were his age.
So for now, that daily one-on-one time is over. I’m so thankful I had it and hope to figure out a way to carve out more of it with each of my children amid the daily busyness. Any ideas?
~ Lillie-Beth Brinkman (lbrinkman@opubco.com)
Moving with a toddler
Sounds fun, right? Well, not so much.
Last weekend, I had the great pleasure of moving … with a 2-year-old. We didn’t move far, just a few miles closer to work, and to a much bigger place and much quieter community. However, that doesn’t ease the strain and hassle of moving.
Since it’s just us two, I had to figure out a way to get everything packed in the few days prior to the move, with a toddler underfoot in every room of the house. As I would fill up boxes, he would take things out of them. If he saw a toy he hadn’t played with in months being boxed up, all of sudden it was his favorite and must be taken out and played with immediately.
When two of my friends came to move everything, all he wanted to be was part of the action. I couldn’t help all that much moving things because I had to constantly watch him.
And for days to follow, I couldn’t for the life of me, find the right cup or plate or toy in the 40 plus boxes I had in the new place. I couldn’t find his favorite bedtime books or the caboose for his train set. And I heard about it – every day.
But we’re slowly getting settled. He only refers to it as ‘the new house.’ If I say ‘we’re going home’ he gets upset because the last time he saw ‘home’ as he knew it, it was an empty spot where things used to be. But going to ‘the new house’ makes him happy and excited, which makes it home to me.
Soon enough, it will be home to him, too.
Any horror stories about moving with kids? Share them here or e-mail me at the address below.
~Erica Smith
Gameday with a toddler?
Is this something that is possible? Without me losing my hair or sanity?
I have tickets to OU’s season-opener this Saturday. First, I am a bit suprised that you have to buy a full-price ticket for a 2-year-old but according to the athletic office “any human being going into the stadium needs a ticket. Even infants.”
Yeah, I guess infants would fall into the “human being” category, although I couldn’t imagine bringing one to a game. But a toddler, well, that may or may not be worse.
I hope I’m not crazy to try this, but maybe he’ll have a blast and we’ll have an extra activity to add to our fall calendar. Has anyone tried it? If so, give me the lowdown and some good tips if you have them.
~Erica Smith
esmith@oklahoman.com
Count it all joy (Sisyphus)
I often think of the myth of Sisyphus that I read about in school sometime years ago.
He was the man whom the Greek gods condemned to roll a huge boulder up a hill, only to see it roll down when he reaches his top. He then has to trudge back to the bottom to do it all again. Every day for all of eternity.
I can’t remember what Sisyphus did that was so bad in the Greek legend, but I think of him when I do the laundry. The laundry is my boulder.
When (if) I get it completely washed, folded and put away, I feel like I’ve accomplished a major feat, only to open the laundry hamper to see it already full again. With clothes from the swimming pool, the playground, sports games, the park or elsewhere and with towels from the pool as well as from the kids’ three baths each night.
I know I’m not unique.
I also know that we can find Sisyphus anywhere, in the little things like dishes and laundry and in the big things like child rearing. We get up every day and do it all over again.
Philosopher Albert Camus once suggested that Sisyphus was smiling as he faced his momentous task again each day, and in doing so, he had beaten the gods.
“One must imagine Sisyphus happy,” he wrote.
I like that. I also like what the apostle Paul wrote to the early Christians once:
“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.” (James 1:2-3 NKJV)
It’s hard to remember to smile in the nitty gritty daily grind of whatever my boulder is that day. I often have to remind myself to “count it all joy.”
But each day is a new day, and I am thankful for the chance to try again with my children, my family and friends whom I love. And with the laundry. And unpacking from our move a year ago. And the dishes. And the cleaning. And …
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning.(Lamentations 3:22-23 NIV)
~Lillie-Beth Brinkman
“Baby pact” in the news
The national spotlight is shining on Gloucester, Mass., but that’s not necessarily a good thing these days.
The most recent edition of TIME magazine includes a story about a so-called “baby pact” made between a group of girls at Gloucester High School.
The author of the story appeared on NBC’s TODAY Show this morning to discuss her interviews with school officials. She said they told her that several pregnant teen girls, out of a total 17 at the school, had confessed to making a pact that they would each get pregnant at about the same time and raise their babies together.
One girl apparently was impregnated by a 24-year-old homeless man, the TIME reporter said.
None of them, according to reports, is older than 16.
The blogosphere is abuzz with this latest bit of news, particularly since actress Jamie Lynn Spears, 17, reportedly had her baby on the same day that the world got wind of the so-called high school baby pact.
One interesting blog is Pregnant Pause, the National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy’s Web log.
What are your thoughts about the Gloucester baby pact?
– Carla Hinton
Happy Father’s Day to Moms, too
I had three calls yesterday … one from my Mom, one from my sister-in-law and one from an old friend. All called to wish me the same thing … a happy Father’s Day.
Many kids grow up in a household of a single mom. These are the moms who fulfill both roles – those of a mom and a dad. Among our many duties, we are the disciplinarians, the lone chauffeur, the lending ear, the entertainment, the teacher, the security blanket and most importantly, the beacon of unconditional love.
When you do it all, sacrificing unselfishly and without a second thought, you deserve to be celebrated … twice. I never really thought about it that way until yesterday.
So to all single moms everywhere, I hope you had a wonderful Father’s Day. You deserve it.
-Erica Smith
