This is Mom Parking...

Beginning January 22, 2009...Please come and visit my new national web site at JustAnotherMom.com! You can read stories like these...and more! The Dollar Diet, Tips, "Take Twenty" Homework, Favorite Products and the Question of the Week are designed to offer resources, support, ideas and tips for Moms of all ages...

So, come laugh, cry and learn with me and other Moms just like us!

Just like any great adventure,it sure is more fun traveling together!

Straight From the Theme Park Trenches

I guess as a Mom, I often learn the hard way. Such is true from our many theme park adventures and recent Disney Cruise.

Just as the soldiers in the trenches during a gun battle with bullets whizzing by over head, you become quite grateful for the smallest of items that can essentially save you. You also mourn for the items you forgot, simply left behind or hadn’t thought of at all. If you had only known...

I am still a M.I.T (Mom in training) regarding family survival tactics for theme parks, but I have managed to learn a few things on these often harrowing but exciting adventures. They are as follows:

1) It is helpful to dress your kids in the same colors or outfits. You’d be amazed how difficult it becomes to pick your child out from a sea of children similar in age and height-all running in different directions!

2) Purchase kids ID tags or make a laminated one at home with your name and cell phone information and have them wear it on a lanyard.

3) Bring extra plastic bags for trash and any surprises! (Need I say more?)

4) Bring your own extra cups or sippy cups for splitting the gigantic $5 drinks among the kids. And of course-bring Ziploc bags or plastic storage containers to do the same for popcorn and other snacks

5) Most parks allow you to bring in snacks and water! By doing so, you can save your waistlines and your wallet!

6) If you’re going to Disney or on a Disney Cruise, there is a way to get goodies for less! On these trips, I shop the Disney.com outlet and make goodie bags complete with a t-shirt, stuffed animal, etc ahead of time for our daughters! On the first evening of the trip, we present the bags to them! They’re happy-and we save lots of time, money and potential whining!

7) While we are on the subject of Disney…It is brutally hot here in Florida during the summer months! If you want to avoid sun burn and the long lines, try to visit from November through March. Early December is a perfect way to enjoy some amazing weather and to avoid crowds…I have also been told that Super Bowl weekend is a perfect time to visit with no crowds!(And yes, even during these months, use the sunscreen!)

8) While we try to pack some sandwiches and snacks to feed our daughters prior to getting to the parks…I wish someone had suggested that I do the same for the trip home! When your feet are tired, wallet is empty and patience lost-some sandwiches and chips are perfect for empty tummies on the way home! (And pack some pajamas for the kids for the drive home! They will pass out and you surely don’t want to wake them!)


9) I know, I know, I know…this one is an easy one. Bring a change of clothes for the kids and yourself! I have been soaked by water, dropped drinks, mischievous mustard, ketchup and by dirty hands!

10) Bring your own First Aid kits with lots of band-aids! You will need them!

Hopefully, a few of these tips will spare you some bullets in the trenches! And maybe, just maybe, you won’t look quite as exhausted or as patience ridden as some of the parents exiting the park that day! (For fun, take note of parent’s facial expressions and body language coming into the park-and exiting. It is quite interesting!)

So, these tips are going into my own survival book---following the chapter on “Doing More with Less…Sleep!

And please, I would appreciate your tips for theme park survival! I need all the help I can get while in the trenches…

The Inside Secret

So, it really is true.

Sometimes, I feel invisible. I reach out and touch myself just to make sure I still exist. I’m the roadie making sure everyone has just what they need. I’m the cab driver just getting them place to place. I’m the camel walking ahead or behind lugging racquets, jackets, back packs, water bottles and crayons. I’m known as someone’s Mom not by my real name or a title.

Sometimes, I feel mundane. No, maybe just too plain. I walk them to school in gym shorts and bright orange crocks. I wear capris so I can gracefully maneuver at the park. I am often wearing a t-shirt with stains from dirty hands. I don’t have time for accessories and my purse is too loaded to change. My comfortable shoes are tattered from keeping up. My make-up is minimal because my time was spent making their lunch and doing their hair. I don’t have the time, energy or money to keep up with the latest fashions.

And then it happened. My oldest insisted that I follow in family tradition of wearing a birthday hat for my celebration at a local restaurant. When I jokingly replied that I should wear my tiara, she whole heartedly agreed. This tiara was the very one that I wore on my wedding day some six years ago. It was sealed in a box at the top of my closet.

My daughters shrieked in delight as we opened the box. And there it was…as beautiful as the December day that I wore it last.

With the tiara in hand, I slipped away. Leaving my very hungry husband to load up the girls, I began to tear through my closet. I changed into a hip black ensemble, switched ear rings, found a perfect necklace, dabbed on some Channel, used my twice a year eye shadow and mascara and managed a quick up do-before securing the tiara on my head. I looked pretty and I felt pretty.

That night, I walked a little more poised. I smiled a bit more. I felt graceful. My husband and daughters kept staring at me. The restaurant patrons probably wandered what the tiara was all about, but it didn’t matter to me. Our youngest played the tambourine with the entertainer and my oldest showered me with home made cards and gifts collected from home. And my husband sat a little closer and held my hand.

Several years ago, a Mother explained to our group that the best remedy for those down, doubt yourself days was a tiara. She kept a tiara handy for those days and moments. She would wear it while cleaning, grocery shopping or at events with the kids. It reminder her that she was a queen-a different type of queen. The shoulders rolled back and the smile came forward. After all, you have to be happy when you are donning a beautiful tiara. The secret of the tiara…is on the inside not the outside.

So, it is really true. And I am keeping my tiara handy.

I Just Didn’t Know

The good-byes are the hardest. We’ve done them with hundreds lingering on the tarmac exchanging letters, hugs, tears and last minute instructions while dreading that final moment. We’ve done them at home where one last children’s toy is repaired before loading the car. We’ve done them standing in the kitchen rinsing the last plate from breakfast when the dreaded knock on the door occurs.

We’ve done them at local airports with cars whizzing by, horns honking at us because they want the space and the traffic patrol urging us to move-on. We’ve done them hurriedly on the phone when the right words just wouldn’t come. We’ve done them standing before a congregation with hands and prayers bestowed upon us-with tears quietly streaming down our cheeks..

And each time, I stare at him trying to remember each and every detail of his face. I memorize his smile, the creases that frame his eyes when he smiles, his laugh and the last departing words. I always watch as he walks away and fades into the crowd.

I stand there alone with tears in my eyes, a lump in my gut and a hole in my soul. I offer a silent prayer for his safety. And then I plead in another for faith to replace my fear. I cry all the way home not knowing when – or if I will see or be with him again.

And then the good-bye is done. It is back to daily living. There is homework to do, school functions to attend, bills to pay, a garage to clean, toys that need new batteries, lunches to pack, household chores, hosting a daughter’s birthday party, weeds to pull, oil changes for the cars, grocery shopping, first aid for many cuts and bruises, and simply trying to keep up with the growing list of to do items usually tackled by two. I become, by definition, a single parent…and often, an overwhelmed one.

And, of course, there is always the car that break down, the home air conditioning or hot water unit that suddenly ceases, the dryer that won’t spin, the washer that leaks, the DVD player that becomes disabled, a relative’s emergency, the family of snakes that have taken up residence under the outside AC unit, an essential document that can’t be found anywhere and a smoke detector hung from twelve feet ceilings that seem to always go into power failure at 2am.

All of this, of course, while your husband is unavailable and thousands of miles away. You become adept at fixing things, asking for help or just learning to live with it until he returns. The chore list grows-and so do the weeds. You run late to outings and you run out of energy.

You try to be both for your children and quickly learn you can’t. You can’t fix things like him. You don’t play like he does. You can’t build magnificent things with a couple of pieces of wood, some nails and an old hammer. You don’t go to the park and play hide and seek and do trail walks. You’re not as good at piggy back rides and puzzles. You can’t ride the ocean waves with his skill and humor. The milk shakes are too thin. You don’t swim underwater and you can’t seem to get the bath games quite right. And you learn that this is okay. There is always a place – a space saved and waiting for him here.

And when their tears flow and their souls are wounded from simply missing their Dad, you know you can’t fix that either. All you can do is hug and hold them while saying, “Me too.” It hurts, really hurts – for all of us.

You see husbands and dads everywhere. You see them playing at parks, splashing at pools, walking hand in hand at school outings, sitting with their families at church, eating together at restaurants, mowing the yard and riding bikes to school. And we long for him…

The garage door doesn’t beep at 6:30 and there is no one for the girls to hug hello at the end of a long day and there is no one to share my thoughts or bed with at night. You go to bed alone with your heart empty and your mind racing. You sigh that you made it through another day and you pray he did too.

Along the way, there are friends that rush to help, friends that just question and friends that are just there – right when you need them. You cherish the words, “How can I help?” even though you rarely take anyone up on the offer. You say a prayer of thanks for the friend that insists on taking your kids for the day because she knows you need the break. You reserve your emotions about the friend who just doesn’t get it and never will. You cry about a kind note from another that came at the most needed moment.

You are politely excluded from couple outings or you go alone. Either way is lonely and not quite the same. You miss him-you need and want him there with you…just like everyone else.

During birthday parties or events with other families, you watch your daughters search for another Dad that may be willing to swing them in the air, toss them into the water or just play-like their Dad does. And when pseudo Dad sweeps her into his arms, you are grateful for this wonderful volunteer and amazing but brief moment of smiles.

There are the questions. The question from a five year old that asks, “If Dad is a soldier, does he kill people?”

Then there are the questions from friends asking about my stance on Bush, the war and the military. The question from someone you have just met asking if you even believe in war and if you think that the number of American casualties and cost are worth it. You’re asked where Bin Laden is and why we can’t catch him. You’re asked, “Why can’t we just leave Iraq and Afghanistan and let them settle it?”

War is so very, very complex…but for you it is simple. You support your husband. You support the missions and tasks he is assigned and his commitment to those. You support his love of God, family and country. You support that his concern for his own life is secondary to his commitment to secure peace and freedom for you, your children, family, and friends and for millions of Americans he doesn’t even know. His service is not about war but one of freedom.

You often hear, “You signed up for this…” but does anyone know what they really signed up for in life?

You didn’t know the absences would be so long or hurt that much. You didn’t know that you would be glued day after day to CNN hoping for something, anything that would offer you some information and insight. You didn’t know that you would shed so many tears for casualties never mentioned by name because you truly hurt for those families…and because it could have been him.

You didn’t know that not hearing from him for three days would keep you up at night just wondering if he is okay. You didn’t know that managing a household could be so overwhelming. You didn’t know that being without him could be so empty-so lonely. You didn’t know that your children could miss the simple things with him so much.

And you also didn’t know that you could love that deeply or unconditionally. You didn’t know that you could fix a faucet or a loose wheel on a bike. You didn’t know that you could manage the finances, handle family emergencies and attend parties and events alone.

You didn’t know that you would meet so many wonderful friends along the way. You didn’t know that you would have spiritual mentors that guided you back to your faith. You didn’t know that families would adopt yours at the holidays. You didn’t know that a stranger over hearing that your husband was deployed would pay for your meal and thank you for his service. You didn’t know that the many prayers and notes from others could offer such peace.

You didn’t know that your daughter’s teacher would take the extra time to listen and offer hugs in the moments of her sadness. You didn’t know that a friend would come get your daughters when you were sick and had no one to take over. You didn’t know that your daughters reciting the pledge of allegiance and parading a flag about your den could mean so much. You didn’t know that the Star Bangled Banner would make you cry, really cry.

You didn’t know that when you married this wonderful man that you and your family would be a part of his sacrifice as well. You didn’t know that this military life could be so painful, so joyful, so difficult and yet so meaningful. You just didn’t know.

I Missed It

I knew. I knew by the way his shoulders slumped and the contorted expression on his face. It said everything that he couldn’t.

As we neared on the sidewalk, he glanced at a neighbor leaving for work and said in a whisper, “Have a good day at the office.” She didn’t hear him and soon the car door slammed and she was off for work.

As he approached, I looked at him and with tears in my eyes, and said, “I am so sorry.”

His wife of some 26 years, took her last breath the evening before. It was her third battle with cancer and he said even in the end she fought bravely. She loved life and he loved her. He said he had cried so much that he simply had no tears left. His daughter was worried about him, but he assured her that he and his dog would be okay.

I hugged him several times with tears streaming down my face. I cried for his loss and mine. I apologized to him for my mistake.

You see, we have been neighbors for three years. They live across the street about five houses down. I would see him and his wife riding bikes and walking the dog and always politely wave-but I never even knew their names. Somehow the busyness of life just got in the way. I never knew them. I never took the time to know them. That changed some four weeks ago.

Hearing she was sick, I stopped and introduced myself to him, gave him all of our contact information and urged him to please call if we could help in any way. The girls and I made several surprise trips with her favorite ice creams, flowers or hand made cards. And he surprised us with some vegetables from the local farmer’s market on a Sunday.

I talked to her once several weeks ago. She was gracious, courageous and downright funny even in the middle of a fight for her life. Sadly, in all of the three years we were neighbors that would be our very first and very last conversation.

So- I was sorry. I was deeply saddened for him, his daughter, their family and friends. But…as I explained to him, I was sad for me. I missed it. I missed getting to know a gem that lived right here-so near and I missed it.

God Surely Smiled and So Did I

Following gymnastics and a quick dinner out, we were heading home. The girls and I were chatting about everything, anything and nothing at all. The clamor consisted of littering, the guy that was running too fast, the lady not wearing a bike helmet, something about turtles and the meaning of the yellow stoplight.

As we made the turn for the home stretch, I saw it. It was the most brilliant sunset I have seen in years. Backed against the Florida sky, were gray blue skies delicately trimmed in orange with rays of golden sunlight stretched between the clouds as if they were mountains. Today, God was surely smiling.

As I pointed it out to my daughters, the youngest remarked that a pair of fluffy clouds in this amazing display of artistry looked just like bears and sure enough – they really did.

The oldest remarked that we must hurry home. I sped up just a little- all while the car fell suddenly silent. Minutes later, we pulled into the drive way. My oldest jumped out of the car and raced to the door. As we made our way in, she quickly disappeared and then reappeared – with paper, markers and an easel in hand.

“I must draw it.” she informed me. “And-we must all sit together and watch it.” she added.

So, there we sat-the three of us at the end of our drive way just watching. My oldest asked, “How do I draw this?”

I replied softly, “Just draw what your heart and eyes see.”

So our oldest began drawing-examining the sky and making absolutely sure she captured the shape and colors of the delicate clouds with just the right marker. Even our cat, George, joined in as he positioned himself in the middle of the quiet crowd.

Ten minutes later, the sun was absent from the horizon and the once bold colors were silenced. I gathered up the supplies and glanced at the beautiful drawing done by a five year old.

As the two were chasing George about the grass, I smiled. Simple things, like a glorious sunset shared with two young daughters, are the most treasured moments. I long, I need more moments just like this one…

And sometimes, as a Mom, in the midst of hectic schedules, endless chatter and the race to maintain a routine, I may see them with my eyes- but often fail to see them, really see them with my heart.

And I am grateful that my oldest didn’t let this one- yet simple- but amazing- moment pass us by.

The Meat Loaf

It was a beautiful day and we headed on over for a play date. My friend answered the door with a baby perched on her hip, the other hand frantically waving at the dog to stay back- all the while attempting to keep her knee in front of the other two—as my daughters and I slid our way into their lovely home.

Shrieks of delight were exchanged between the five children and soon the older ones scurried off to play and slowly destroy her once neat and tidy home-room by room. We both sighed. The destruction and impeding voice volumes are well worth it when you simply carve that one on one friend time – also known as adult interaction.

So there we were. It was she and I and the baby in the bouncer. Life was good.

She showed me around her wonderfully warm home and introduced me to her lovable and very social dog. After refereeing several minor disagreements between the other
four, we sat at the kitchen table to talk and catch up.

Twenty minutes later, the baby decided our time was up. Just like a baby pro, he managed to completely consume the next 30 with the usual-feeding, changing, playing and crying. I wasn’t irritated –just simply sympathetic. It wasn’t that long ago that mine were baby pros too.

Just as the baby settled down and the kids were playing quietly in the play room, my friend decided it was time to get started on lunch. She took the meat out of the refrigerator and the potatoes from the pantry.

I assumed we would have the usual-chicken nuggets, PB&J or pizza with some fruit or fries on the side. I really didn’t want her going to any trouble feeding me and my toddlers.

Seeing my startled look, she said, “I hope you don’t mind. We are having home made meat loaf and mashed potatoes for lunch today.”

“Sounds great to me. Please, what can I do to help you?” I asked.

“You just sit and enjoy yourself. I have it.”

So, I began to watch this wonderful Mother of three began to make the meat loaf and peel potatoes. The baby would cry and she would stop to console him and then resume making the feast. The children would yell and she would rush to help and to intervene. I offered assistance and she kept refusing…although she finally did let me hold and console the little one.

She frantically worked on this magnificent lunch for some 45 minutes. We talked when we could –in between all the activities and the joyful chaos.

Finally, the delicious lunch was served. I am embarrassed to say that my two ate very little of the delicious home made meat loaf and mashed potatoes. However, they were excited to devour the home made cookies that followed.

By the time we cleared the table, cleaned the kitchen and we returned the rooms to a pre-visit status, it was time to go.

As my girls were chasing her kids, I hugged her and said, “I really wish you hadn’t of gone to all that trouble. Next time, it is pizza on me.”

As we backed out of the drive way, we waved to all of them and I noticed she had the baby perched once again on her hip-and she looked exhausted. Our visit there had simply created more work, more stress and more exhaustion for her. She needed conversation and support-not more work.

While I appreciated her kind gesture of the meal, I too was seeking the same that day. I left with my belly full but my heart and soul still longing for simple conversation, funny stories and the laughter of “You too?”

I wished we had made yet another PB&J for us and for them –and used our time to laugh, cry, smile and simply ponder Motherhood. Time was the food that our souls needed the most that day…and we both left the table hungry.

As a Mom, I have often let the meat loaf get in my way too. Somewhere along the way, I became convinced that points are tallied by visiting friends and family for the cleanliness of our floors, glimmering toilets, sparkling counter tops, hidden dust bunnies, perfectly organized pantries and clutter free family rooms. I just knew extra points were given for home cooked meals, freshly baked cookies, fresh flowers and a perfectly planned activity schedule-with something for everyone.

The work, the planning and the details left me exhausted, frustrated and seeing these visits as somewhat of a chore…at least for me.

And then something changed. During a visit with my husband’s parents, my Mother-in-law explained that she wanted to spend more time with us-not in the kitchen-during our visit. She cooked a wonderful meal or two, but we fetched take-out BBQ, made sandwiches for lunch and dined on “just fine” cereal for breakfast. We all received the best gift…time with each other.

Since then, I have learned to relax a little. My husband no longer hides during my pre-visit cleaning frenzies- he actually joins right in. The house will be tidy but there be some run away dust bunnies, loads of laundry that still need to be folded and toys scattered about. My home will not be perfect-and neither will we…but I can bet you will feel welcomed!

I do plan and cook some meals but I also plan take-out, pizza or fun restaurant visits. Fun things and adventures are planned-but so is down time for everyone-even me.

And I can say, that in the last few years, the last minute cook-outs with ten friends, the last minute pizza dinner here with a friend and her kids, the last minute stay here by my husband’s friend –they were the best! Forget the cleaning, forget the planning-there was no time! I just went with it…come as you are and take me as I am! No grand gestures offered…just the gift of time and having fun together!

So before you work yourself into another cleaning frenzy, plan that third gourmet meal or dust the top of your refrigerator…your friends and family won’t remember your polished floor, the breaded tilapia parked on the perfect mound of rice, the unique hand towel in the guest bath or your clutter free closets…they will remember you and how you made them feel. And they will relish that they never left your table hungry.